There was a deep and profound sense of quiet in the Mikado's audience chamber when no one was speaking. Deep at the heart of the Imperial Palace, far removed from windows or outside walls and utterly sacrosanct, in the absence of human speech it was a place of such pure silence that most found it unsettling.

The Holy Sage, however, was used to it. The Mikado would speak when he was prepared, and not before. The old scholar was used to waiting.

When the moment finally came, there was a heaviness to the Mikado's voice that would have been wholly unfamiliar to anyone other than the Holy Sage. "We feel that the empire is at a great crossroads, Holy Sage. A moment of great crisis and opportunity. Do you sense it was well?"

"I do, Majesty."

"We chafe at our borders. We thirst to honor the spirit of our founder , who brought our ways to a new land and shaped it as his own. We thirst to do the same. It would be a tragedy indeed if we allowed our personal weakness to subvert this most holy task."

"Yes, My Lord."

The Mikado sighed deeply. "It is best that Holy Sages are not allowed the privilege of marriage, we think. For they are thus able to advise their Lord without the thought of wives and children clouding their vision. It is a great weight pressing down on us, ever threatening to drive us to error in a moment of weakness. And yet we must bear it, to continue our line. It is ironic, is it not?"

"Of such concerns I can only wonder and conjecture, Majesty, having no experience of my own to rely upon."

"To see a child of your own blood open his eyes to the world… To rise upon his feet and walk. To see him shed tears and to smile – these are most powerful visions, Holy Sage." The Emperor was silent again for a moment and the old man waited patiently, as he always did. "We have lost a son already, Holy Sage. And nearly another. It would be no small sacrifice to do so again."

"A great sacrifice indeed, Majesty."

"Yet at this crucial moment in our history we are asking many sacrifices of the common people. And will ask many more. How is it that we might ask less of ourselves, who rule over them by the will of the Gods? Must we not ask the greatest of sacrifices of ourselves, who have been given divine grace to lead the people? To not do so would be improper."

"Such is your wisdom, Majesty."

"The ages will judge our actions at this time, Holy Sage. They will judge whether we allowed the burdens of our heart to cause indecision and dissention when unity and purpose is most urgently needed. They will judge whether we secured the empire, or let it stand at risk of falling into the clutches of one unfit to lead it, by taint of the unholy." There was a heavy breath, another. "What is your council, Holy Sage?"

Now it was the old man's time to be silent for a moment, choosing his words carefully. "I advise caution, Majesty – for these are as you say momentous times for our empire. Decisions which once made cannot be undone must be considered most carefully."

"You are wise, of course. And yet – we have tried by dint of kindness and correction. We have tried the open hand and the closed fist, to induce change and relieve our heart of the great unease that grips it. We have taken actions most unpleasant and painful for us, in an attempt to shed light on the true path that he may follow it.

And yet he does not, Holy Sage. The true path is ignored, and the path of darkness and dissent is followed. Must we not now assume that the influences of disease have permeated so deep that their removal may no longer obviate the disease? That there may be influences so deep and sinister that not even we may remove them?"

Then old man felt a deep sense of foreboding at the Mikado's words, of events that were unfolding beyond even his powerful ability to manipulate them. "I cannot say, Majesty. I only urge careful consideration and deliberation."

"Of course." the Mikado replied dismissively. "We are always careful and deliberate. And yet, in the end we must always choose – not for ourselves, but for the kingdom we rule. No matter the pain it may cause in our hearts. You can never understand this, Holy Sage – the sacrifices we must make for the empire. Blessed are you to be free of such terrible burdens."

"Indeed, My Lord."

"We are at a great crossroads." The Mikado sounded as if his mind was far away, now. "And at this great crossroads, when plagued by doubt and worry for the future of the empire, we are blessed with a new son. Untainted by blood, untainted by the unclean or the unholy. We wonder if it is a sign from the Gods…"

****************************************************************************

Jin of the Hunters stared down from his perch far above the central courtyard of the Third Palace. The smallest of the three Empress' residences, it was nonetheless quite beautiful – high walls of blond wood surrounding a cluster of low residences and temples, their shallow-pitched pagodas brilliantly reflecting the early autumn sunlight off their dark-tiled surfaces.

In the courtyard stood a small open-fronted teahouse, simple and elegant in white and forest green. Jin's eyes were focused on the woman who rested on the small bench there with a bundle in her lap – or, more accurately, on the wiry figure of the boy who knelt next to her. Occasionally, his voice could be heard riding the breeze to where Jin stood, its pitch rising boyishly as it increased in volume. The soft ring of his laughter could sometimes be heard above the rustling of the leaves of the maples scattered throughout the grounds. Jin smiled at the sound of it.

"A most beautiful sight, is it not?" Jin spun to find the sliver-haired Master Star Diviner standing on the catwalk a few paces away. The Hunter cursed himself for his carelessness – there had been a time when he would never have allowed a mere civilian academic to approach unnoticed, but lately…

"You may be at ease, Jin – I did not intend to startle you."

"Shuga."

"My apologies for approaching unasked."

"It's fine. I heard you." The Hunter returned to staring down at the teahouse. "How did you know it was me?"

"I've come to expect you." Jin returned his gaze, surprised. "Surely you did not think I failed to notice your frequent presence close to Prince Chagum? "

"I… I suppose I did not expect to be noticed. Have I been so careless?"

"Not at all." Shuga smiled and turned to join the Hunter in observing the scene below. "It is only that during the time of the Nyunga Ro Chaga, we were together no small while. Your face became quite familiar."

"I see." Jin again cursed his carelessness and wondered if his skills were fading. "I'm supposed to be just another Royal Guardsman, you know."

"Are you not?" There was a rare hint of humor in the star diviner's tone. "My mind is eased to know that someone of your particular and considerable skills is watching over Chagum."

Skills, eh?… "It is only my duty, Master Shuga." Jin chuckled gruffly. "I think His Highness has noticed me too."

"Really?"

"I think so. I've caught the little fox staring at me and smiling once or twice, though I can't be sure… He sees a lot, I think."

"Indeed. Though his kindness makes him blind at times, too."

"What?" Shuga was clever, there was no question. Clever enough, however? That was the question.

A peal of boyish laughter rode the wind to their perch and the silver-haired man winced. "He has been pestering me for weeks, you know. To see the child."

"Has he?" Jin frowned. "It seems a simple enough thing – they are half-brothers after all." Nothing is so simple in this cursed place…

"As you say. But the Third Empress and His Majesty were not anxious to let the boy meet with Prince Torgal."

"That seems cruel and needless." Jin blurted out before he could check himself. "Apologies. I mean-"

"It is fine, Jin. You may speak freely in my presence." The younger man turned and met the Hunter's eyes directly. "At any time."

"Er – thank you. It is only… Prince Chagum looks so happy. How could that possibly be wrong?"

The star diviner shrugged. "It is not my place to question the wisdom of the Divine Hand, Jin – I am but a simple scholar. I know only what my eyes see and my mind interprets. It is as you say – Prince Chagum looks very happy. He was very excited the day Prince Torgal was born."

"Why should His Majesty not…" Checking his tongue this time, the Hunter turned back to the courtyard. "In my many occasions to guard His Highness since he returned to us, I have not often seen him happy."

"Again – it is as you say." The silver-haired scholar sighed deeply. "Even while the Second Empress was alive, there seemed to be an emptiness in the boy's heart that has not left him since his return. And when she passed from us…"

Jin looked across, sharply. "That was indeed a tragedy."

"For His Highness, especially. I fear that he feels very alone here now."

"He is not! I mean- His father, of course. He still has his father."

"Of course."

"Have you ever thought it odd, Master Shiga – that name?"

"Torgal?"

"Indeed. It is only… Only that Chagum has been declared to be the reincarnation of our empire's founder. And as such, it seems odd that the Third Empress' son should have been given his name."

Shuga said nothing for several heartbeats. "It is not my place to question the wisdom of the Divine Hand."

Jin stared at the star diviner for a long moment. "You were at the Mountain Palace when the Second Empress passed from us, weren't you?"

"With His Highness, yes." Shuga looked over at him. "As were you – am I correct?"

"Yes." Jin closed his eyes tightly, fighting to keep his body still and his breathing level. "You know, Master, there are times when I feel that my great concern for His Highness' welfare causes me to lose my sense of judgment."

"Jin?"

"He was very kind to me once, you see. When he was small, and I very young. And very alone. I have never forgotten. His Highness is very kind and gracious of spirit." A breath. "And it pains me very deeply when I stop to consider all that he has had to endure in his life."

"Indeed." Shuga whispered, taken aback. "You speak plainly and honestly, Sir Hunter. I can tell."

"On that occasion I shirked my duty in order to be with Prince Chagum at the Mountain Palace." Jin's voice had an odd, thin quality to it. "I could… I did not wish to be on the Imperial Grounds at that time." He took a deep, halting breath and closed his eyes. "I wished to be with him. I risked a great deal – by not being at my assigned post, I risked calling attention to myself in a most unflattering way and the results could have been…unfortunate for my colleagues and myself.

But I did not wish to be here on that day, Master Shuga. I wished to be with Prince Chagum – as close to his side as I could. And indeed, I was." The Hunter's eyes snapped open. "You care deeply about His Highness as well – do you not, My Lord?"

"His welfare is paramount to me, Master Hunter."

"Is it?" Jin smiled thinly. "That is good to hear, Master Shuga. You're closer to him than anyone. Please take great care and do not let your attention waver."

"What do you mean?"

"It is nothing special. Only that you should always be considerate of his welfare, at all times. And at all times be attentive. To everything."

The star diviner's pale visage had turned even whiter than usual. "As you will be, I am certain?"

"I will be watching. Always. But perhaps someday he will need someone to do more than watch, Master. Please remember what I've said."

"It is a promise."

"Good," Jin rasped. "It is indeed a beautiful sight – is it not, Shuga? Two Princes happily at play together. It makes one feel at peace…"

*****************************************************************************

Chagum had never really grown used to the idea of being in council with his father and the Holy Sage. True enough, the boy had many memories of visits to the audience chamber. Most of the recent ones were memories the boy would just as soon forget, but there were better memories too – and certainly no lack of familiarity with the surroundings.

No, it was the occasion more than the setting that unsettled the Crown Prince and set his stomach churning on the morning of a council. Sagum had attended them regularly from the time of his thirteenth birthday, of course – as befit his status as Crown Prince of the New Yogo Empire. He had occasionally told Chagum of the proceedings with his usual gentle humor, but that was not the same as being there. And picturing Sagum – tall, graceful and serene – in that room only made Chagum feel even more like a little boy interloping in the affairs of men.

I'm almost as old, now – almost as old as he was when he… That was a strange thought. In his mind's eye Sagum was almost as much father as brother, and Chagum supposed he would always remember him that way. The emptiness he felt at the loss had not lessened with the passage of time and subsequent losses – it still pained the boy every time he thought about Sagum's face.

Still, there was no denying that he was indeed an attendee at council – and as Crown Prince, Chagum had taken his duty seriously enough to speak his mind from the start, if cautiously and respectfully. He'd expected the Mikado to be proud, but Chagum's softly spoken observations generally seemed to annoy his father more than anything else. Especially when they disagreed, as seemed to happen all the time. But wasn't it his duty as Crown Prince to express his views and speak for the people?

The Holy Sage was always there, of course – he closest to the barrier and the Mikado's side. Chagum knelt in the center of the chamber, facing his father directly. On this occasion the Chief Treasurer was to his left and Shuga, of course, close to Chagum's right and just behind him – though in his role as Master Star Diviner, not the prince's tutor.

Things did not start off well. The first item on the agenda had been the Treasurer's report on the collection of the new taxes on rice and millet, a subject on which the young prince found it impossible to hold his tongue.

"It is as predicted, Majesty." the bearded treasurer said in his low drone, looking none too happy. "The collectors report that close to half the farmers were unable to pay the full amount they owed."

"Is their greed such that they are willing to shirk their duty to the Empire then, Tokai?"

"Er – if would appear so, Your Majesty. Many of the farmers begged that they might be given until the second rice harvest to pay the remainder. They argue that once they have sold off the millet they will-"

"Seize their lands, then, if they are unable to pay."

"Majesty?"

"Did you not hear us, Chief Treasurer?" the Mikado growled. "It is the law of the Empire – those who are not able to pay their tax shall have their lands seized. We do not understand why this has not been done already."

"I…– That is-"

The treasurer shuffled nervously for a moment and Chagum heard his own voice in the room, disturbingly sounding even higher than normal after the low rumble of the Treasurer. "May I speak, Your Majesty?"

There was a long, dreadful moment when the only sounds in the audience chamber were the breathing of the four men and himself. "Speak, Crown Prince."

"Your Majesty, as I said when the new plan of taxation was adopted, all but the largest farmers would find it difficult to meet the deadline for payment of taxes. I do not believe it is a lack of loyalty to the Empire – our citizens would pay if they could."

"Then they shall be pleased to see their fields and houses given over to that Empire's service, will they not?"

The boy swallowed deeply, mustering himself and trying not to think of his likely personal audience with his father later. "Indeed Majesty, it is as you say. But if we were to seize the land of so many farmers at this time, we would see a great many of them homeless and starving this winter. Many will surely die – and their families."

"Their lands will still feed the Empire, Prince Chagum. Or do you not consider that this is the most important fact?"

"If I may, Majesty… If we were to impose a limit on the amount of tax owed – as a percentage of the yield of the crop, so that the poorer farms with less yield would owe less – most would be able to pay their tax and stay on their land, and we would not have to feed and clothe the starving over the winter."

"Treasurer!"

"Yes, Majesty?"

"It would appear as if our young Prince feels he knows more about the nature of taxation than his Emperor and the Chief Treasurer."

"Yes, Majesty."

"And it would also appear, Chief Treasurer, that the young Prince is more concerned with the comfort of criminals than with the upholding of the law."

"It is as you say, Majesty." The Treasurer's voice quavered slightly.

More dreadful moments of quiet, as Chagum felt a burning inside his stomach beginning to rise to his throat. "Chief Treasurer."

"Yes, Majesty?"

"You will instruct the Chief of Infantry to send a squad to accompany the collectors on their next rounds. If the farmers still refuse to pay, seize their property. If they resist, they are to be taken into custody. Are we clear in our instructions?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"You see, Prince Chagum, that we are vested with the defense and welfare of the entire kingdom. There are those who wish to do us harm – many times in the history of New Yogo we have been forced to defend ourselves and we may need to do so again. It is the holy duty of our subjects to support our ability to defend them. We are distressed that you do not appear to see this."

Defend them? He thought bitterly. Who will defend them when their lands are being seized? The boy tasted bile in his throat. "I am sorry to have disappointed you, Your Majesty."

"Indeed." The Mikado's voice brightened. "With that settled, then, we have brighter subjects to attend to. We have decided to be generous, Prince Chagum. We have decided to give you a great opportunity."

Chagum's gut lurched. "I am grateful, Majesty."

"A great opportunity, Crown Prince. To demonstrate your ability to us. To demonstrate your ability and your loyalty."

"Thank… Thank you, Majesty."

"For too long, Prince Chagum, the Yakue villages in the Eastern Mountains have done little to support the Empire. They pay little in taxes, for their strange Yakue crops and goods are nearly worthless. They accept our benevolent protection and give nothing to us in return.

Therefore, we have decided that each Yakue village shall send all of its men and boys between the ages of sixteen and twenty-five years to serve in the New Yogo Army. In this way, they shall have the opportunity to serve their land and Emperor. It will be a struggle for some at first, but they shall quickly learn the ways of the Yogo people and forget their superstitions and rituals. And it shall be a great boon to our army. The threat from the Kingdom of Rota grows more serious all the time."

There was a sharp intake of breath from Shuga, to his right, and silence from the others. Chagum felt numb, and dizzy. "We have also decided that you shall lead the contingent of conscription to the villages, Crown Prince. Who better to do so than the Son of Heaven, the reincarnation of our first Emperor who brought civilization to these lands?"

Chagum's mouth snapped open and he gaped at the Mikado behind the partition. "I can't do that!"

"How dare you address us in such a way, Crown Prince!" the Mikado bellowed.

"My sincere apologies!" Chagum ducked his head quickly. "I only meant, Majesty, that if we were to conscript all of the men and boys from all of the villages, they… The villages would die, Your Majesty! They would not have enough strong bodies to till their fields or repair their-"

"Again, the Crown Prince thinks more of the desires of those who would flout the law than the Empire he serves. If their villages no longer suit them, they may come to the cities and learn the ways of civilized Yogoese. It is all in service to the Empire."

Chagum kept his forehead to the floor and closed his eyes tightly. "I most humbly beg you to reconsider this, Your Majesty. With utmost respect, I believe it would be devastating to the welfare of the Yakue."

"It is decided, Prince Chagum. Will you not thank us for the honor of such a great responsibility – one that you have done so little to deserve?"

Chagum felt as if he were in a dream, falling, unable to stop himself. He wanted to scream more than anything – as loudly as his lungs could make him. "I… I most humbly beg… That you assign this duty to another, Your Majesty."

"What?"

"I… I am unworthy. And I'm afraid I might be…unable to complete this duty. I believe it would be better placed in the hands of another."

"Do you..." The Mikado said in a low voice. Chagum panted softly, forehead still on the floor. "Master Star Diviner – you have the unfortunate task of completing the education of this… this boy. What do you say to this?"

"I… I believe His Highness is correct, Your Majesty. I believe he is too young at this time to take on a responsibility of this kind."

"Holy Sage?"

"I agree, Majesty." The old man spoke for the first time. "I believe this duty might better fall to one of our generals."

"Indeed. So it appears… Very well. See to it, Holy Sage."

"At your command, Majesty."

"Raise your head, Crown Prince." Chagum did so, opening his eyes slowly. The bamboo blinds remained in place. "We are most disappointed in your reluctance, Prince Chagum."

"I shall strive to please you better, Majesty."the boy rasped.

"Will you, now." The Mikado's voice took on a tone of disgust. "It would hardly seem possible that you could do less to please us, Crown Prince. You have a disobedient will – the same disobedient will as your mother."

The shock in the chamber at hearing the Crown Prince rebuked so personally and publicly was almost visible in the very air. Chagum was breathless, and felt himself trembling. "You are disobedient, as she was – more concerned with your own whims than the benefit of the Empire. Perhaps the fiend from Nayug has left a trace of its madness in you as well." The boy trembled more violently. "We are finished. You are all dismissed."

"Aye, Majesty." The Holy Sage stood and the others in the room followed suit. Chagum felt Shuga's hand on his elbow, steadying him as he struggled to rise.

"Holy Sage!" the Emperor's voice rang out.

"Your Majesty?"

"Prince Chagum is to have no contact with the Third Prince. We do not wish Prince Torgal to fall under an unhealthy influence. See to it."

"Yes… Yes, Majesty."

"None, Holy Sage – not even in passing. We trust that this is a clear enough command that you will be able to follow it?"

"It shall be done, Lord." The Holy Sage cast a worried glance at Chagum, and shuffled out of the audience chamber, the Chief Treasurer behind him. Chagum numbly allowed himself to be led from the room on unsteady legs.

Chagum allowed Shuga to support his weight until they were outside the Imperial Palace, momentarily numb. He felt as if he had been struck by a blunt fist, his body aching and his mind confused. He glanced around as if puzzled when his feet touched rough stone, then looked upward at the thickly overcast sky and gently tugged his elbow free of the Star Diviner's hand. "Thank you, Shuga."

"Your Highness, are you-"

"Thank you." Chagum took a deep rattling breath and started towards the Second Palace at a deliberate pace. Shuga took up a place a few steps behind and followed, absently wringing his hands.

The boy stared straight ahead during the slow procession, mechanically placing one foot before the other and taking no notice of the attendants bowing along their path. He walked the length of the entrance hall and, once inside his receiving chamber, looked around once again, seemingly dazed. With a sigh, he lowered himself onto a cushion and folded his hands on his lap.

The Star Diviner knelt next to him. "Shall I call for tea, Prince Chagum?"

Chagum turned his head slowly, then nodded. "If you like."

The silver-haired young man did so, and then he and the boy were silent. A few moments later two dining attendants scurried into the hall and set the service before the prince. Seeing no reaction, from the boy, Shuga quickly poured from the cast iron kettle and handed him a cup. "Drink, Lord."

"Thanks."

"My Lord…"

"You don't need to speak, Shuga."

"Highness-"

"You must not question the Divine Hand." Chagum took a sip of tea and smiled weakly. "I'm sorry I wasn't able to be a better student for you, Shuga."

"Your Highness!"

"I know this will reflect badly on you. None of it is your fault – you've taught me well. It's not fair for you to share in my shame. Not fair at all…"

"You have been a finer student than I could have ever wished! Even His Majesty praised your scholarship."

"Even his Majesty? Chagum asked wryly. He cut off the Star Diviner's protest with a raised hand. "It would make me happy if you were to leave my side, Master. I would be sad to see your career ruined by my stupid, childish mistakes. Somehow I don't think my scholarship is foremost on his Majesty's mind."

"Never!" Shuga gasped. He bowed quickly. "Highness – I will not leave your side, not even if so commanded."

"Is it not also treason to disobey the Crown Prince, Shuga?"

"Then let me be accused of it. I shall not leave your side while I still breathe the air and walk the grounds of the palace. I shall not."

"Then you're as much a stupid boy as I am!" Chagum spat, slamming his cup to the table hard enough to make the silver jump. He stared at the top of the Star Diviner's head for a moment, then sighed. "Raise your stupid head already."

"As you command."

"I don't know what to do now, Shuga." The boy whispered.

"My Lord?"

"I'm lost."