* * *

        And so alone upon the sands
        Two weapons bleed.
        Yet while they bleed
        In equal isolations sits -
        Seated, yes, but just as lone -
        A man who never dares a knife
        Yet never lives without a blade
        A skin away from striking.
        This chair least comfortable of all:
        Its purchase, peace:
        And all slaves sounder sleep, though one and all
        In fantasy desire that seat.

                                  * * *

        On the heights of the minor mountain of Cap Ogo Blotch, the
northernmost of the great rocks of Dalar ken Halvar, stood a
building of whitewashed stone. That building of whitewashed stone
was the palace of Na Sashimoko, that Shrine of Thrones (or, in the
mouths of some, that Shrine of Shrines) from which the Silver
Emperor ruled the City of Sun and the realms of Parengarenga.
        Despite its eminence, the palace owed nothing to the silver
science of interior decorating. Here slovenly decay had the rule,
and had ruled for centuries if appearances were anything to go by.
It was undecorated - indeed, parts of it were unfinished. But when
Hatch called in at the Treasurer's office, he entered another
world entirely, a world dominated by immaculate order and an
auditor's precision.
        The Treasurer, Nambasa Berlin by name, was a hard man, and
ruthless. His ruthlessness was exemplified by his noseless state.
In his youth, Berlin had fought a rival for the favors of a
beautiful young woman, and had persisted in fighting on to victory
even after getting his nose bitten off. Unfortunately, the woman
in question had then decided that she liked a third party much
better than either of the two fools who had fought over her; but
Berlin had benefited much from having the ruthless resolution of
his courage confirmed to both himself and the world at large at
such an early age.
        Hatch, however, did not like him, even though Hatch often
admired those who were brave, and courageous, and ruthless in
their resolution. In fact, Hatch had cause to hate him, for Berlin
had made him contribute two years worth of savings toward the
costs of the campaign to retake Malic Milvus. Right now, Hatch had
a grievous need for money; and he was sure his circumstances would
not have been so straitened had he not lost so much in paying for
the costs of the abovementioned campaign.
        For his part, Berlin disliked all the "purple filth" as he
termed the Frangoni. Nambasa Berlin was one of the Chem, the
wealthy and hence Real upper-class of the people Pang, and the
sexual rival who had bitten off his nose so many years earlier had
been a Frangoni warrior. Hence Berlin's hatred for the Frangoni.
        With such deep discontents sourced in their past, Asodo Hatch
and Nambasa Berlin should by rights have been bitter enemies,
whereas in truth they had an effective working relationship based
on a wary trust. Hatch appreciated Berlin's honesty, efficiency
and forthrightness; and Berlin, for his part, admired the way in
which Hatch tried to shoulder the whole of his family's debt-
burden.
        Thus their relationship stood when Hatch was admitted to the
Treasurer's office.
        "I wish to see the emperor," said Hatch, without bothering
with any introductory formalities.
        "Very well," said Berlin, and wrote out a pass which would
get Hatch past the guards who safeguarded the very imperial
presence itself. Berlin dated the pass, sanded it, sealed it in
hot wax and handed it over. "Present yourself to the Hall."
Hatch nodded, and removed himself.
        The corridor leading to the Hall was open to the sky, and the
Hall itself had a floor of loose stones in sizes up to that of a
fist.
        Some generations previously, the Silver Emperor had set about
manic renovations which had destroyed the previous splendor of Na
Sashimoko. Unfortunately, he had entered a deep depression before
the renovations entered their creative phase. He had sent away the
workers, and had never succeeded in conjuring up the enthusiasm
necessary to arrange for the completion of the work.
        Asodo Hatch entered the Hall, advanced gingerly across the
knobbled stones, and halted in front of the imperial plinth. On
that marble platform stood the imperial throne, a high-backed
chair padded with red velvet. Its lacquerwork armrests were of
black lacquerwork adorned with mother-of-pearl, and it came
complete with two silver-stitched cushions, one for the emperor to
sit on and the other for his feet to rest upon.
        For the moment, the throne was empty but for the Princess
Nuboltipon, who had no business being there, even though she was
undoubtedly the most well-bred personage in all of Dalar ken
Halvar.
        "Greetings," said Hatch to the Princess. "Greetings from the
low to the high."
        The Princess Nuboltipon made no answer to him. She never did.
She seemed, indeed, to think herself a member of a breed so
superior that it had no need to even acknowledge the existence of
a bit of Frangoni lowlife like Asodo Hatch. Nevertheless, Hatch
bore her contempt lightly, finding it a chivalrous pleasure to do
so.
        "My lady," said Hatch. "Can I be of some service to you?
Your slightest wish, you know, is ever my command."
        So saying, Hatch bowed to the Princess Nuboltipon. Then
straightened up, alerted to the approach of his emperor by the
blast of a trumpet.
        "All hail!" shouted an usher. "All hail the Silver Emperor!
All hail! All hail the great and mighty - "
        Here the usher slowed, for it was death to mispronounce the
emperor's name, but the contortions of that name might have been
maliciously designed for the very purpose of tripping tongues. But
the usher got it out without mutilating it.
        " - the great and mighty Plandruk Qinplaqus!"
        The Silver Emperor had other names, at least five of which
were known to Hatch. There were said to also be others by which
his slavegirls were entitled to address him, and he might have yet
more names as yet unknown, but it was as Plandruk Qinplaqus that
he currently chose to be announced in public in his own palace.
        Hard on the heels of his name, the Silver Emperor entered the
Hall, escorted by four slave girls. These were young women chosen
for their high-breasted beauty. All were nubile and graceful, fair
of face and seductive of gesture. Presumably the Silver Emperor
took them in fantasy, for to Hatch's knowledge (and Hatch followed
the palace gossip with a modicum of diligence) the emperor
certainly never took them in the fact of the flesh.
        The Silver Emperor looked indeed so old and frail that it was
easy to imagine that a single incautious act of lust might bring
his life story to an abrupt conclusion. Plandruk Qinplaqus was an
ancient Ashdan so shriveled and withered that he looked as if he
might blow away on the wind. Looks were not deceptive, for
Plandruk Qinplaqus had once nearly met with an untimely death when
the Hot Mouth had sucked him off his feet.
        On that notable occasion - no account of which was to be
found in the official annals of Dalar ken Halvar, for the scribes
who maintained the annals were a cautious breed - the Hot Mouth
had in-breathed of a sudden. The emperor had been snatched away by
the wind thus generated. Fortunately, Hatch had pounced on the
emperor. The muscle-pumped Asodo Hatch had caught the fast-flying
Silver Emperor, had thrown him to the ground, and then -
        Few people cared to remember what had happened next, but the
uncomfortable truth was that Asodo Hatch had sat on top of the
Silver Emperor until the in-breathing winds of the Hot Mouth had
died away to nothing. Hatch had never been thanked for doing his
overlord this favor, for Plandruk Qinplaqus was a wizard, and
wizards are mighty in their dignity, and are slow to give thanks
to those who compromise that dignity, regardless of the excuse.
However, the emperor had ever afterwards made sure that Hatch was
in his entourage whenever he went near the Hot Mouth, which he did
once a year in the course of his annual tour of inspection of
Dalar ken Halvar.
        Now the Silver Emperor stalked toward his chair of state.
        "Off!" said the Silver Emperor, on discovering the Princess
Nuboltipon ensconced in his throne.
        So saying, the emperor slapped the armrest of the throne with
a copy of the Imperial Census.
        The armrest shattered, disintegrating in a cloud of woodworm
dust. Bits of mother-of-pearl fell to the white marble of the
imperial plinth. The Princess Nuboltipon fled, nimbling over the
stones of the Hall till she was well out of reach of the
destructive might of the Imperial Census. At which point she
slowed, then cast a disdainful look over her shoulder. Then, with
her tail high and undaunted, she made her way toward the exit at a
pace more consonant with her dignity.
        The Silver Emperor struck his throne's surviving armrest with
his walking stick, which was old and crooked yet was possessed of
the strength of iron. That armrest also disintegrated.
        "A cheap and shoddy piece of rubbish," said the Silver
Emperor.
        As this he said, the Princess Nuboltipon disappeared out of
the door through which Hatch had entered. The soldiers there on
guard, who had less regard for her than did Asodo Hatch, did not
bother to salute her departure.
        "Hatch," said the Silver Emperor, tapping the Frangoni
warrior on the chest with the handle of his walking stick, which
was of silver, and was in the shape of a pelican.
        "My lord," said Hatch.
        "Find out who made this piece of furniture."
        "My lord," said Hatch, "it came to Dalar ken Halvar as part
of the spoils from Malic Milvus."
        This was true, and Hatch was glad to mention it, for he was
eager to reopen the matter of the Malic Milvus campaign and the
costs of that victory.
        "Yes, yes, Malic Milvus," said the emperor. "Where you put us
to abominable expense, this piece of rotten woodworm your sole
recompense to the throne."
        "My lord, I - "
        "You might brush down my robes," said the Silver Emperor, "if
you were wanting to be of assistance to us."
        Hatch plucked a fan from one of the slave girls and used it
to remove the splinters, dust and woodworm droppings which had
despoiled his emperor's robes.
        "Hatch," said the Silver Emperor, while Hatch was still at
work.
        "My lord," said Hatch, pausing in his cleaning duties.
        "See how far you can throw this throne."
        Hatch looked at his emperor in astonishment. Was he hearing
aright? And if he was, then was his emperor deranged or what?
        "In ... in which direction, my lord?"
        "The direction of your choice."
        "As my lord commands," said Hatch.
        Since Hatch was the emperor's slave, it was his duty to obey
the emperor's every whim. Sometimes these whims were exceedingly
strange, as Hatch had found in the past. Still, many emperors have
suffered from worse deficiencies than a taste for the occasional
piece of casual vandalism, so Hatch did not object too seriously
to his lord's excesses.
        Obedient to his emperor's command, the Frangoni warrior
braced himself, picked up the throne - it proved lighter than he
had expected - and heaved it toward the center of the Hall. It
crashed onto the rocks of the Hall and shattered in a cloud of
dust.
        "Ah," said the Silver Emperor, with a great sigh of
satisfaction. "That's something I've always wanted to do. So,
Hatch. So you do have your uses. You - you, girl - what's your
name - fetch me a chair."
        A chair was fetched and Plandruk Qinplaqus settled himself in
this makeshift throne - a procedure which was less than
instantaneous, involving as it did the placement of a cushion under
his feet by one slave and the serving to him of sherbet by
another.
        "Well, Hatch," said the Silver Emperor, once he was properly
seated. "Have you caught any more mad scientists?"
        "None," said Hatch.
        "Then you're in default of your duty," said the Silver
Emperor. "My spies tell me there were ten of them down by the
river. They were endeavoring to invent a vehicle for submersible
travel."
        "To do what?" said Hatch. "To ride the river to the Mouth?"
        "Don't be impertinent with me!" said Plandruk Qinplaqus,
shaking his walking stick at Hatch. "Impertinence ill becomes
you. Address the question, Hatch. What have you been doing to
catch me mad scientists?"
        In truth, Asodo Hatch had not been involved with any mad
scientists since he had disposed of Darius Flute. The unfortunate
Flute had cracked under the pressure of his Combat College
studies, and had abruptly withdrawn from the College, announcing
that he was going to start a new Renaissance of Technology in
Dalar ken Halvar. This was quite, quite mad, as the city of Dalar
ken Halvar and the continent of Parengarenga as a whole quite
lacked the population base and the raw materials required to
create any technology capable of economically out-performing an ox
cart.
        But the Silver Emperor had taken Darius Flute's claims
seriously. Plandruk Qinplaqus had never banned technological
enterprise, since the Silver Emperor knew full well that to forbid
something was to make it universally attractive. So Qinplaqus had
ordered Hatch to execute Darius Flute, but to do so in a manner
which would not draw public attention to Flute's technological
enterprises.
        Hatch had then proceeded with consummate skill. He had
arranged for his sister Penelope to marry the unsuspecting Darius
Flute; and, on their wedding night, Penelope had stepped outside,
Hatch had stepped inside, and Flute had been dead in moments. It
was the custom amongst the Frangoni that a bridge was fully
entitled to kill her husband if he disappointed her on the first
night of their marriage, so Flute's death had passed with very
little in the way of public comment; and the Silver Emperor had
been rightly pleased.
        But now -
        "Hatch," said Plandruk Qinplaqus. "Will you keep me waiting
all day? My question requires an answer. How many mad scientists
have you hunted for me of late?"
        "I did not know that my lord had commanded me to actively
pursue such creatures," said Hatch mildly.
        "You don't take this seriously, do you?" said the Silver
Emperor.
        "I trust that wisdom sits on the throne, and hence am ever
eager to obey those commands which come to me from the throne,"
said Hatch. "But as yet the throne has not chosen to give me any
instructions for fresh persecution, murder or otherwise."
        "I see, I see," said the Silver Emperor. "A legalist. Well
then, leaving aside the scientist question - have you seen this?"
        With that, the Silver Emperor waved the cat-intimidating
Imperial Census at Hatch.
        "No," said Hatch shortly.
        In his moods of deep depression, Plandruk Qinplaqus was hard
to handle, but as he ascended his manic curve Hatch usually found
him quite intolerable.
        "You haven't read it?" said the Emperor. "Well, then. It's
yours, then. Take it."
        Then the Silver Emperor tossed the Census in Hatch's general
direction.
        Hatch let it fall to the broken rubble of the Hall, then
bent, picked it up and carefully dusted it off. One never made
sudden or incautious moves when one was in the Emperor's presence.
The Emperor himself was possessed of the most admirable self-
control, but some of his guards were a bit too quick with a
javelin.
        "When you search those pages," said the Silver Emperor, "you
will find that a full fifty people claim themselves to be
scientists."
        Hatch knew the Silver Emperor lived in fear of waking up one
morning to find that one of his subjects had built a functional
starship, or something worse. It was true that many of Dalar ken
Halvar's mad scientists had claimed that they would do as much -
indeed, they had claimed that they would bring about a glorious
Age of Light in which every man would walk on silver and eat from
gold.
        "I will take note of the number of scientists," said Hatch,
endeavoring to remain non-committal.
        "There are probably more of them than that," said Plandruk
Qinplaqus. "With every census I trust the figures less. This one,
for instance! It tallies the last rice harvest to the very last
sack. But last harvest the mountains of Qash were in open revolt
against the empire. How then could we count those sack to the very
last?"
        Hatch caught a note of rising fanaticism in the emperor's
voice. Plandruk Qinplaqus was getting quite worked up about his
census. Hatch knew this mood. The Silver Emperor was on the
upswing, climbing out of his last and longest depression, entering
a manic stage.
        "Well," said Hatch, seeking an opening.
        "Well!" said the Silver Emperor. "You wish to speak, do you?
Then speak! Give your report."
        "My lord," said Hatch, thinking he had better speak both
quickly and bluntly. "There is revolution brewing in the city.
Indeed, some say it has started already."
        "I am intrigued," said the Silver Emperor. "Proceed."
        Hatch proceeded, and told what he knew.
        "So," said Plandruk Qinplaqus, when Hatch was finished. "Our
soldiers are on the way to the silver mines already."
        "That is so," said Hatch, "but if Scorpio Fax is to be
believed, then in the city - "
        "Forget the city," said the Silver Emperor. "They want a
revolution in the city? Very well! Let them have their revolution!
It will do us no harm. Ignore it!"
        "Ignore it?" said Hatch, quite taken aback.
        "Yes, yes," said the Silver Emperor. "Ignore it. What can
they do? Burn the city? It burns on a regular basis. Let them
riot, then let the riot burn itself out."
        "My lord, they threaten, they - "
        "Hatch," said the emperor, "the city is so thoroughly divided
against itself that nobody can hope to unite it. Can the Yara
unite with the Chem, the Frangoni with the Ebrell Islanders?
Whoever wins the city wins the nightmare. With the nightmare over,
they'll wake anew to me. To my reason. My mercy. My strength. My
prudence. My justice. They love me, Hatch, and with reason. I love
them too, hence let them have their amusements. Let then the
burning of the city count as such amusement."
        "My lord," said Hatch, "I think you let your city burn too
easily."
        "I let it burn for a purpose," said the Silver Emperor.
"There is conspiracy, it seems. Very well! Let the conspiracy
reveal itself. Then we will chop down the conspirators and have
done with all conspiracy for a generation."
        Hatch thought this poorly thought out, but he was dismissed,
and had no alternative but to leave.

                                  * * *