a balance between the religious and secular centers of power. Coronations, funerals, and rituals associated with the solar cycle were still held in the Cathedral, so the priests still felt very much in the game. They would have retained the right to send off delegations, too, if it weren’t for an irritating footnote in the law governing official ceremonies that allowed diplomatic missions to leave from the Palace Square, provided that the weather was fine, because it was a shorter walk from the square to the river dock. The footnote was criticized by many for stooping to mention the weather and the walking distance, but it remained in force nonetheless.
Unlike his mother, Uni had never been particularly devout. He enjoyed the splendor of church services but secretly sympathized with the teachings of a sect of learned men who held that the sun could be worshipped for its life-giving rays without any need for cathedrals and priests. All one had to do, they taught, was rise at dawn, go to bed at sundown, and work hard in between. His job at the archive had kept Uni out of the sun for most of his young life, and he was especially glad on this day to part ways with his private fear that he would spend his best years shut away in a dank basement. He looked around at the sunlit square like a kitten that had just opened its eyes, nervous at first, but growing in confidence.
The crowd in the square was getting increasingly impatient. Uni sympathized. When would everything begin?
“Don’t squirm,” Groki barked from somewhere behind him. Or was he hearing things? Uni wanted to turn around and look, but suddenly a pure, deep tone rang out over the square. It was the Great Cathedral Gong, and the sound of its note penetrated deep in the heads and chests of all present. Even Uni’s nervous stomach was vibrating. It was time!
The sound of the gong melted in the mid-morning sun, leaving behind a light hum that did not dissipate, but instead grew stronger and stronger until it sounded like the droning of bees. Uni realized it was the sound of voices. Inside the Cathedral tower, a choir of children was singing the Hymn to the Sun. Uni’s head turned like a swivel. He couldn’t shake himself of the illusion that the singing was coming from the sky. Soon he heard the stronger voices of the older boys, and after a while they were joined by the powerful voices of the adult men. Uni knew the words of the ancient hymn by heart, which was always sung in the language of pre-imperial Herandia. He had always admired the hymn as a historical relic, but now he heard it with new emotion. This time, he did not find the pomp and spectacle amusing. Touched, and feeling serious, he looked away from the Cathedral roof just in time to see the most important moment unfold.
A long red and orange carpet had been rolled down the shining marble staircase in front of the palace. On both sides of the carpet, two lines of Imperial Guards descended the stairs in parallel lines. Covered head to toe in armor that shone with gold and copper, they stepped in perfect time down the stairs until they reached the polished granite of the square. The shining discs on their helmets all disappeared from view at once when the two lines turned to face each other and each warrior struck the ground with his spear. Then they froze, two living walls stretching from the square to the Heavenly Throne, that symbol of the Herandian monarchs that was without equal anywhere in the world.
According to legend, the throne was made from a single piece of sky-blue lazurite. By design, it was too large for even the tallest man to sit on, so the Emperor sat on a small pillow on top of the throne’s footrest. A large jewel was embedded in the back of the throne (perhaps a topaz or a diamond, Uni had heard several versions of the story).
The gong rang out again, and the singing grew louder. Now, the singing came from all sides of the great square. Priests in yellow, orange and red robes carrying banners of the Sun stood around the edge of the square. Their voices came together in a single current that overcame all who heard it. Again, Uni swiveled his head back and forth to see everything and almost missed the next event.
Just in time, he noticed that the crowd around the throne had grown. Dressed in elegant robes, shining cuirasses, or the red garments of the priests of the Sun, they were all part of the Imperial Council, which was the highest authority in the land and comprised 24 of its most influential and respected men. Uni had always suspected that most of them, despite their grand titles, had little to do with the actual process of determining the Empire’s policies and fates. The full council met rarely, and only for official events. It was said that the Emperor occasionally consulted with members of the council at large, but that most affairs were managed by the small circle of council members whom Uni had already seen. As he watched the members, he saw Licisium Dorgoe listening politely to someone he couldn’t see because he was hidden by another member’s golden armor. Just then, the crowd shifted, the owner of the armor took a step to one side, and Uni saw who Dorgoe was talking to: it was Manelius Ronko, dressed in a fashionably fitted, snow-white robe with a bright purple stripe down the middle. He was telling Dorgoe something with great animation when the large man suddenly took a step back, put his hands on his chest, and shook with rumbling laughter.
“May the Sun scorch me, would you look at that!” Uni thought with a prickling of envy. His eyes landed on another figure. “I wonder who that is? All the soldiers are wearing shining helmets. The one with long, dark hair must be Necium Tameto. He’s violating the dress code, but no one seems to notice. Those nobles don’t dare say a word to the man who protects the northern border!”
Tameto glanced around haughtily at his fellow officers. Uni recognized a few of them: Enritel Narzey, the commander of the Southern Fleet, Rarocium Hanmo, whose forces guarded Capotia and kept an eye on the Arincils, and Dergedium Lami, who often had to beat back the barbarians of Torgendam. He had heard rumors of money budgeted to repair ships that later disappeared without a trace. He had also heard that the Empire’s foot soldiers wore torn uniforms and were sometimes ”leased” into slavery, where they were glad to be given three square meals a day. He had no warm feelings for Tameto, but his seven-thousand-strong cavalry was considered the best trained in the entire Imperial Army, and its men had an irrational, dog-like loyalty to their brave leader. Uni assumed that the palace bureaucracy put up with the sad state of the rest of the army because it had been twenty years since the last war with the Torgs, the fearsome Arincils were far away, and only the northern border was ever breached by disorganized bands of Sotray nomads. And yet Tameto had left his men behind to take part in the luxury and intrigue of the capital, where backstabbing and infighting made up most of the officers’ combat experience. His interest obviously went beyond protocol. The man turned his hooked nose, and for an instant Uni feared that the scourge of the northern barbarians would strike him where he stood. Oh Heavenly Deity, my imagination is playing tricks on me!
The atmosphere of anticipation was electric, as if a storm was gathering its forces to rain down on the noblemen’s heads. Uni had been told what would happen, but he was completely unprepared for the experience of seeing it. He turned to the column of Norius and saw that the Founder’s hands where shining with a blue light – that was the effect of quartz-coated bronze mirrors on the hands that shone blue when they caught the sunlight. The effect was a stunning reminder of how Norius had been blessed by the Heavenly Deity when he founded the Herandian Empire four hundred years before. The flames in Norius’ hands flickered with the colors of the rainbow and shone in gold sparks. It was a sight to behold! Uni held his breath. The rainbow light reflected down on the delegation, himself included. Suddenly, he realized how wonderful the sight must be for the people in the crowd, where his mother and his friends stood. His heart filled with a warm joy. He would have liked to look for them in the crowd, but just then, Norius’ palms turned towards each other. A ray of sun shot out from between them and fell on the Imperial Palace, as if Norius were sharing the Deity’s power with his successor!
The ray of light fell on the throne, and the crystal embedded in it lit up with a blinding burst that made everyone squint. Uni had been looking in that direction to see what would happen next, and he slapped his hands over his eyes. The light from the throne was so bright that it made him dizzy, and the white spots on the backs of his eyelids pulsed with the rhythm of his racing heart. He heard the people around him cry out in amazement and fall to their knees.
