The Gates of Memory, стр. 90

He would make it right. He would.

As soon as he had the chance.

Hanns paced the small quarters he’d been given. Brandt had mixed feelings when he saw the emperor. He still felt respect, both for the man and the position he held. He agreed with the emperor’s decisions on what the empire must do next. But he wished the emperor had worked with Alena somehow, instead of exiling her. Given what Hanns might have done, Brandt supposed the decision had been merciful, but it still upset him, if for no other reason than he disliked being torn between friends.

Hanns barely acknowledged Brandt, too wrapped up in his own thoughts. Eventually, a guard informed him they had been summoned, and a focus returned to the emperor’s gaze.

Their audience wasn’t just with Weylen. More warleaders had arrived, the next wave of the many that would come. Weylen was still the key, but the emperor needed to persuade more than one person.

They were ushered into a small hall where there were no chairs. Weylen and Ren stood together in a circle of men and women. Brandt assumed he was seeing a group of warleaders and their Senkis.

Weylen, never one to mince words, began. “I expect you seek an alliance between our people, Emperor Anders VI?”

Some hint of menace in Weylen’s tone brought Brandt up short. Hanns noticed the same tone, and a slight frown darkened his face. “That had been my hope, yes.” His reply was cautious, as tentative as a man knowing he took steps onto thin ice.

“What are your terms?” Weylen inquired, his question as sharp as a blade.

“For us to determine,” Hanns replied. “But Regar has committed treason, and he cannot be allowed to control your gate.”

“Will you kill your son?” This from another warleader.

Brandt saw Hanns take the question like a physical blow, flinching away from it. He realized in all this time he hadn’t thought much on what Hanns must be suffering. His own blood had betrayed him, stolen from him what the empire needed most. Now his duty demanded he march against the child he had raised.

Hanns answered the question slowly. “I would prefer not to, but if no other option is left to me, then yes.”

Silence greeted the answer, broken a dozen long heartbeats later by Weylen. “And if we succeed, you wish the gate for yourself.”

Hanns looked uncomfortable under the questioning. No doubt, he’d never tasted this flavor of diplomacy. Even by Falari standards, Weylen’s inquiries were direct. “Yes. At least until the queen is defeated.”

“It is said you already control more gates than her, yet cannot defeat her. What difference will a third make?”

The question finally broke Hanns’ composure. “I’ll only know if I have the gate to try!”

Surprisingly, the emperor’s outburst appeared to impress the warleaders more than his composure. They nodded as he spoke.

“Tell us more about your proposed alliance,” one of the other warleaders asked. There was no edge in her voice.

“I’ve already ordered my troops toward the border,” Hanns answered. “They will not cross unless ordered, but they are accompanied by monks and warriors with strong affinities. With your permission, we will march side-by-side to Faldun. We will take back your capital and deliver it to your hands. And Prince Regar will be defeated.”

“And after?”

“After, I use the power of the gate to defeat the Lolani queen.”

“What about your troops?”

“They will leave.”

The warleaders glanced from one to another. They spoke quickly, in Falari. Brandt looked to Hanns, but if he could understand their language, his face betrayed nothing.

The warleaders spoke for some time. They didn’t shout or wave their arms about, but the passion with which they argued was evident. Watching them, Brandt couldn’t tell if Hanns’ argument swayed them or not.

Eventually, Weylen nodded, ending the final conversations around the circle. He locked eyes with Hanns. “We reject your offer.”

Brandt saw Hanns’ fist clench, fingernails digging into the palm. “You will die without our help.”

“Better that, we think, than allowing the empire a foothold in Falar. Your ways will never be ours, and should your army cross, the treaty shall be broken.”

Weylen’s threat landed heavily. Perhaps Hanns would risk war with the Falari. But the treaty wasn’t just between the two nations. It included the Etari, as well. If Hanns brought his troops across the border, he risked fighting both independent countries on the continent as well as the queen. That conflict, should it come to pass, would be impossible to win.

“I’m offering to help,” Hanns said through gritted teeth.

Brandt wasn’t sure if it was imagination or not, but he swore he felt Hanns’ power growing. Weylen took a mighty risk angering Hanns further.

“And for that, we thank you. But we do not want those with affinities coming through our land.”

“Even if they are your best hope for survival?”

“Even then.”

It was only then that Brandt understood Hanns’ mistake. He should not have fought to free Weylen’s village. The emperor saw it as a chance to save lives. The Falari saw it as a confirmation of their worst fears.

To Brandt’s imagination, the silence that stretched between the Falari warleaders and Hanns was full of threat. The Falari understood the gate’s importance, but they didn’t understand how much it meant to Hanns personally. Brandt had seen Hanns fight for his life, but he’d not seen the emperor this angry before.

Which made Hanns’ next words all the more surprising.

“Very well. Then escort me to Faldun alone.”

From the expression on Weylen’s face, the statement surprised him as much as it did Brandt.

“Take me back to Faldun,” Hanns said. “You can’t fight against a man with a gate, especially if half your people support him. And you won’t let my warriors over the border to assist. So take me. Escort me, make me your prisoner, do whatever you need to satisfy your sense of honor.” The last words were laced with disdain. “Just get me close enough to fight my son.”

Hanns’