Carver had questions—many of them—but before he could give them air, a deep voice called out, “Do I get a chance to greet the emperor’s favored general?”
Carver grinned, watching General Morelli’s approach.
Cregon’s grip on Carver’s shoulders flexed, as if unable to let his son go just yet. “In a moment.”
“Worried mother hen,” Morelli clucked. He slapped a hand on Carver’s back, then pulled him in for a hard embrace, regardless of his father still holding him at arm’s length. “It’s good to see you, General,” he boomed.
“Likewise, General,” Carver returned with a smile.
Elio Morelli was a large man with an even larger personality. He was from Westmont, a fellow general, and Cregon’s best friend—which meant Carver had grown up with Morelli so constantly around, he was practically another uncle. His brown hair was a little grayer these days, but it was impeccably trimmed, as was his short beard. Cregon often called Morelli vain; in response, Morelli usually called Cregon something that made Carver’s mother cuff the back of his head.
When Morelli drew back, Carver saw another man had joined them near the dais. Though Carver had only met him a handful of times, he recognized General Keats. The man was probably in his forties, with hair as dark as onyx and cut with military precision. Carver didn’t know much about him, as they’d never worked together, but he knew his father respected him.
Keats gave Carver a nod, and Carver returned the silent greeting.
“I know you have much to speak about to each other,” Emperor Vayne said, his gaze on Cregon and Carver. There was a mix of warmth and sadness in the emperor’s eyes. Clearly, he felt the sting of not having a similar reunion with Argent. “I’m sorry your personal conversations must wait.”
Cregon squeezed Carver’s shoulders one last time, then released him so they could stand side by side and face the emperor with the other two generals. His father laid a fist over his heart and inclined his head as he intoned, “We ever serve the emperor.”
“Thank you, High General.” The emperor glanced at Hector, who had settled at his nearby desk and was readying his quill and ink. When the steward was ready to begin transcribing, the emperor spoke. “As you all know, Argent is missing. He was taken by Tam Ja’Kell, an agent of the Rising. We must bring him home. No matter the cost.” His lips thinned. “Morelli, Keats—I’ve askedyou to join us because you have the most experience with the Rising. And Cregon, your insights are always invaluable. I wanted you all here to receive Carver and Jayveh’s initial reports firsthand, and then we can plan our next actions.”
Jayveh took the lead, though she and Carver took turns telling their experiences. The generals mostly listened, but the emperor had questions. He wanted to know every detail about what had happened to Argent—and all that had been done so far to find him. He also wanted to know everything that had transpired at the Feast of Remembrance, and all that had occurred since Jayveh had sent her letter.
While Jayveh remained insistent that Argent was alive, Carver expressed his doubts. He couldn’t share how he knew Argent was gone, but he listed the reasons he’d given Jayveh before they’d left Esperance. “There is no reason to believe Tam kept him alive,” he concluded.
The emperor’s troubled eyes glimmered with unshed tears. “Until we obtain absolute proof of my grandson’s death, I will not believe it. We must search for him. And Tam.”
“We should place a bounty on Tam’s head,” Keats suggested. “It will make it more difficult for her to maneuver. Chosen or not, she must be branded a traitor.”
“Do it,” the emperor said.
Cregon cleared his throat. “The emperor and I have discussed the situation, and we both feel it is of the utmost importance that the public doesn’t know Argent is missing. It could make him vulnerable to other enemies.” He looked at Carver. “You did well, avoiding towns and cities on your journey here. Any servants and guards who know Argent didn’t arrive with you will take oaths of secrecy. We’ll keep his abduction a secret for as long as possible.”
The emperor nodded, adding, “I have also summoned those who were on the periphery of the rebel plot in Esperance, to see if more can be learned from them—and determine their guilt. King Jamir is being brought in by Ford Gallo, and we already sent for Samuel’s father, King Harold of Wendahl, as well as Tam’s father, King Zehrn of Kalmar. We also sent for Amryn’s sovereign, King Torin, and her guardian, Rix Varden.”
Carver fought a wince. He knew Rix and Torin’s imminent arrests would hurt Amryn. Still, Carver couldn’t argue with the emperor’s logic; Torin and Rix had committed treason by aligning with the rebels, even if they hadn’t personally joined. And, if he was being honest, a small part of him thought Torin and Rix deserved to be punished. They’d asked Amryn to become a part of the Rising, pressuring her into risking her own safety in a foolhardy venture. She’d nearly died as a result.
Of course, Carver would never have met Amryn if theyhadn’tsent her to Esperance. The irony wasn’t lost on him.
“I decided not to arrest them in their castles,” the emperor continued. “I didn’t want to create any more upheaval in the empire. They all believe they’ve been called to the palace to give their annual reports, nothing more.”
“Samuel has assured me that his father had nothing to do with his decision to assist the Rising,” Jayveh said. “The rebels reached out to Samuel personally, and he alone had dealings with them. And I believe Tam acted of her own volition as well. She told me once that she was furious with her father for sending her to Esperance while her mother was on her deathbed. I think she joined the Rising to punish him, just as much as she wanted to hurt you, Your Eminence.”
“All of that may be,” the emperor allowed. “But I still want them questioned by Keats and Morelli. Samuel and Amryn, as well.” He lifted a hand, stopping both Carver and Jayveh before they could protest. “I will uphold Argent’s pardon of Amryn, of course. But it’s possible she knows something—some important detail—that she has not thought to share.”
“And what of Samuel?” Jayveh asked. “Will you pardon him?”
“It was my intention to arrest him. Now, however . . .” The emperor shook his head. “I must ponder this further.” He glanced at Carver. “I’d like you to meet with Keats and Morelli once we’re done here. What happened at Esperance could impact their overall strategy against the Rising, as well as the search for Argent, so I’m sure they could use your insights—and your direct knowledge about Tam.”
Carver inclined his head, accepting the order.
“What else can we do to find Argent?” Jayveh asked. She looked to Morelli and Keats. “Do you have any spies within the Rising? Anyone you can question about his whereabouts? Or do you know of a hiding place they might use?”
Morelli frowned. “Unfortunately, the Rising is not a typical enemy. There are no strongholds we’re aware of. Their network is strong and well hidden. If we catch a rebel, they usually only know the names of one or two others. Sometimes, they don’t even know the real identity of their main contact, let alone anything about the leadership of the Rising. It’s all done intentionally, only giving one agent of the Rising a small part of the larger plan. It makes fighting them—or even infiltrating their ranks—all but impossible.”
It was how they’d operated in Esperance as well. Tam had been in charge, leaving Jayveh, Amryn, and Samuel each with a small role, without any real details of the broader plan. It kept the Rising’s secrets well-guarded, unfortunately.
“We have a few spies,” Keats said, glancing at Morelli. “They’re all low-ranking. Untrusted, as of yet, but we’ll order them to keep their eyes and ears open for any news of Tam or Argent.”
