The Children of Jacob Part 2/10

            It was the most wonderful and terrifying sight she had seen in her life.  Growing up she had only rarely left her farm to visit the nearest towns, but nothing she had seen there bore any relation to the grandeur of the capital.  So far Kathryn had only been there long enough to deposit her belongings in her dorm at the school, but she was anxious to see everything as quickly as physically possible.

            The first thing that had surprised her was the number of people.  She had known that many people lived in the capital and that even more visitors would be there at any given time as well, but to actually see so many in such a compact space was beyond anything she had been capable of imagining.  The noise, the motion, and the crowding were more than her mind could process, while the variety of clothing, skin colors, hair styles, and accents only added to the strain on her senses.

            The next thing she had noticed was the buildings.  Even the poorest homes were of a more ornate architecture than the richest manor houses she had seen back home.  As she made her way toward the center of the city where its wealthier residents resided, she could not believe how big the houses were.  At last she reached the Imperial palace and was moved beyond shock.  There was nothing in her previous experience to which she could relate the sight before her and make any sensible comparisons.  To have such intricate and delicate craftsmanship over so vast a volume--the entire history of the Empire scarcely seemed enough time even to properly begin such an undertaking.

            Perhaps the most striking feature of the capital was that, despite being a crowded urban center, it was so green.  Everywhere there were gardens with lavishly sculptured hedges and brilliant flowers of every color.  Nature too had to be refined by an artist’s hand before being allowed to enter such a magnificent place.  The city had been constructed on such a grand scale that the mountains that could be seen towering over its eastern and western borders did not seem to dominate it.  Rather they seemed to form the only sort of wall that would be adequate for enclosing so fine a treasure.

After wandering for several hours and absorbing as much of her surroundings as she could, Kathryn heard a thought creeping into her mind, chiding her for her childishness.  This sense of helpless awe was exactly what the designers of the city had wanted to instill in its visitors.  How could anyone question the authority of a place that was so obviously superior to him?  It was all meaningless.  Her authority did not depend on any outward appearance of wealth.  It came from all the farmers who had helped her to make it here, expecting her to relieve the poverty that had been inflicted by an unjust government.

From this moment, she decided, she would cease being a tourist and begin her work.  The first thing she needed to do was visit the goods distribution center.  It was there that the major task of the Empire was actually carried out.  All the crops, livestock, lumber, stone, and other resources that were collected throughout the Empire were brought there to be catalogued and either sent out to where they were needed, or placed into storage until a need should arise.  She would start simply by gathering information, for she did not yet know the exact nature of the problem she had come there to fix.  There was certainly corruption in the system, but whether this was a result of individual moral failings or merely a symptom of a deeper flaw, she could not tell.  She had to first learn about the process, and the quickest way she knew to do that was to observe it first hand.

It did not take her long to find it.  All she had to do was follow one of the many convoys that was being brought in.  It led her to a large open area with no walls, but only a canvas ceiling supported by regularly spaced posts.  With carts constantly arriving and departing, and soldiers unloading and loading them, the amount of motion and the density of people was just as great, if not greater, than in the rest of the city, but somehow it seemed less overwhelming.  Each person knew where he was supposed to be going and was taking the most efficient route to get there.  This created a sense of order that was lacking elsewhere in the capital.  Kathryn ventured in to get a closer look, being careful not to get in the way of any of the bustling people.

The space beneath the canopy was covered with a grid of large wooden storage bins containing goods of every variety:  grains, fruits and vegetables of exotic types, dried meats, lumber, precious stones for ornamentation, plain stones for building, and so on.  Between them was left just enough space to allow for single-file foot-traffic in both directions.  Some men were busy filling the bins while others were busy removing their contents to carts.  Here were the products of the labor of every person on the continent, and it was all being entrusted to them and the government who issued their orders.  Kathryn’s mind was suddenly flooded with doubts about her dream to serve on the council.  Could she really bear such a responsibility?  Perhaps not, but she would certainly make a better attempt at it than any had done before, because she would refuse to let herself forget whom she was serving.

“Oh, excuse me!” she said as she bumped into a soldier, too focused on her thoughts to have noticed him.

“Please watch where you’re going!” shot back the young man, who could not have been more than a couple years older than her.  He paused a moment and then added, “What is your business here?”

“I just wanted to see how it all worked,” came her meek reply.

“If you don’t have official business here then you’re not allowed to be here.  Now leave before I have you arrested.”

Scared by his harsh rebuke, Kathryn lowered her eyes to avoid his gaze and turned around.  Swiftly yet quietly, trying to avoid drawing any more attention to herself, she scurried back toward the exit.  She had not meant any harm.  Anyway, it was not as if there had been any signs posted outside stating that authorization was necessary to enter.  How could she have known she was not allowed in?  It was only a small bump, anyway.  Was that really worth such an outburst?  His reaction was clearly unjustified.  People with such irrational tempers should not be taken seriously, she told herself.  Still, as illogical as she tried to convince herself those feelings were, she could not help but feel ashamed for what had just happened.  Adding to her hurt was the sudden feeling that this great task she had set for herself would need to be undertaken alone.

#

He was exhausted to a point for which even his strict training had not prepared him.  This was Jorim’s first official mission, and despite his fatigue the thought that they were about to bring it to a successful conclusion filled him with excitement.  For the past week he had been a part of a convoy traveling through some of the northern states collecting goods to be brought back to the capital.  Since he was still a student at the Imperial military academy, and thus the lowest ranking member of the group, along the way he had always been assigned the most tedious and strenuous duties.  Thus he was particularly glad that they had visited the last of their scheduled farms earlier that morning and was looking forward to sleeping in his own bed that night.

He sneaked another anxious look at the sky.  A storm had been rapidly moving in from the west all day long, and he feared that it would overtake them before they were able to reach the capital.  There was another flash of lighting, followed by a low rumble of thunder several seconds later.  Ever since it had become audible, he had been counting the seconds between the lighting and the thunder as an additional way of worrying about how swiftly the storm was moving.  It would not be long now.

When it hit, it hit suddenly.  A cold gust of air blew in and clouds swept over the sun, bringing instant darkness.  A moment later, heavy drops of rain began falling in an unrelenting barrage.  They could do nothing but continue to press on, but their pace began to slow as the road became sodden and the cart wheels began sinking into the mud.

Two loud cracks caused Jorim to start.  The first came from a wheel on one of the carts snapping under the competing pulls of the mud and the horses.  The second came from a nearby lighting strike that caused one of the horses attached to that cart to jump so suddenly that its worn harness snapped.  The horse then bolted and began dashing about wildly, trying frantically to escape the storm but having no success whatever direction it ran.

“Can we fix it?”

“No.  We’re going to have to unload it and redistribute its cargo amongst the other carts.”

“Come on men!  We need to unload this cart.  Jorim, you go see if you can catch that horse.”

“Yes sir,” replied Jorim unenthusiastically, turning his own horse’s head and spurring it into motion.

As he rode slowly toward the escaped horse, he was unsure how to go about catching it.  It continued running at a frantic pace, violently changing direction at random intervals.  At least it was not gaining any distance.  All he could think of was to watch and make sure it did not run off as he waited for it to tire itself out.  Gradually it began to slow, until it was stumbling back and forth, scarcely able to support its own weight.  It was either too frightened or fatigued to notice as Jorim cautiously rode closer.  Once he had drawn near enough, he reached out and grabbed its reigns.

Suddenly a new terror seized the animal, filling it with a fresh surge of energy.  It turned sharply and ran, jerking Jorim so hard that, losing both his grip and his balance, he fell from his saddle into the mud.  For a moment of cold frustration he sat where he had landed and attempted to regain control of his emotions.  When he at last looked up again, he saw the horse calmly trotting back toward the caravan.

“Come on, quit dallying and let’s get going!” called his captain with a hint of amusement.

As he resumed his position within the caravan, Jorim tried hard to avoid looking into the laughing eyes of his fellow soldiers.  The goods from the broken cart had already been redistributed and the run-away horse was quickly harnessed to one of the other carts so that they were able to begin moving again.  The sun had returned and dried Jorim’s clothes by the time they arrived at the capital, but he was too weary to be able to appreciate this improvement in his conditions.  He was in a fatigued daze as he unloaded goods at the distribution center, thinking not of his work but only of how he would soon be able to go home and sleep.  When he was finally finished with his duties, he began stumbling away, more asleep than awake.

A sharp bump from behind yanked Jorim harshly back from his walking slumber.  He turned and saw a startled girl a few years younger than himself.

“Oh, excuse me!” she exclaimed.

Angered by this latest annoyance in a day that had already brought him more than his deserved share of trouble, he shot back without thinking, “Please watch where you’re going!”

            Still not fully awake, Jorim’s mind was not capable of anything beyond feeling annoyance at the injuries that had been inflicted upon him by the world.  Everyone was a part of it, and he wanted justice.

“What is your business here?” he asked.

“I just wanted to see how it all worked.”

“If you don’t have official business here then you’re not allowed to be here.  Now leave before I have you arrested.”

The girl quickly lowered her eyes, but before she did Jorim managed to see in them a look of bewildered fear.  This sign of emotion shook Jorim’s weary mind, freeing it from its blind rage.  She was just a scared girl overwhelmed by being in a place where she did not belong.  It had just been a small bump.  Why had he reacted so harshly?  He watched with remorse as she turned and began slowly walking away.

“Miss, wait, please,” he called after her in a tone much gentler than the one he had been using.

She cautiously turned back toward him.

“I’m sorry,” he said, “I’m just a bit tired.  If you like I can show you around and explain what’s going on.”

With a questioning look in her eyes, she replied, “Thanks, but I don’t want to bother you.  You’re right--I shouldn’t be here and you’re obviously too busy.”

His face relaxed into a broad smile.  “If you don’t want me to give you a tour, that’s fine, but you should know that I’ll take it as a personal insult.”

“OK then,” she said allowing herself to return his smile, “let’s go.  Thanks!”

#

As Kathryn listened to the teacher lecture about facts with which she was already well familiar, her mind raced ahead to explore the implications of what she was hearing.  The topic of the day was the taxation methods of the Empire.  At regular times throughout the year, surveys were made of the production levels of various goods throughout the Empire.  Based upon this information the council, which contained one member from each of the fifty-three states, would come up with recommended taxation levels for each good on a region by region basis, depending on the amount of surplus in each.  After these recommendations were altered by the emperor however he saw fit, the taxes would be collected by the army.  Whenever shortages arose, these goods could be redistributed, again at the discretion of the emperor.

“Teacher,” interjected Kathryn during a pause in the lecture, “Wouldn’t it be more efficient for the states to be in charge of taking inventory of the production levels?”

“Kathryn, the Imperial government has been managing the surveys with no problems for hundreds of years.  Now please stop interrupting.”

“But...”

She was cut off as the teacher continued with his prepared speech.  She tried to pay attention but could not keep the questions from flooding her mind and drowning out his words.  They longed to break free and be asked, but she knew they would only be answered with rebuke.  In this manner she endured the lecture--struggling not in understanding it, as many of her classmates did, but in keeping herself quiet so as not to prolong the torture any more than necessary.

“...As you can see, the council is entrusted with a considerable amount of power.  This will be a great responsibility for those of you who may one day find yourselves serving there,” the teacher said to conclude his lesson.

Kathryn could resist no longer and began speaking rapidly, afraid of being stopped before she could completely relieve herself of her burden.  “But aren’t there risks with having so much power in one place?  It’s a huge temptation.  Doesn’t it make corruption both more likely and more dangerous?  Why not spread the power amongst the states so that no one body has too much of it?”

This was as much as she was able to get out before the teacher once more interrupted her, saying, “That’s enough Kathryn.  Class, you’re dismissed.”

The students gathered their books as quickly as they could and fled the room.  Only Kathryn was left behind, moving slowly and aimlessly as her mind was still occupied with the questions that had been running through it for the last hour.  The instructor watched patiently as she finally made her way to the door.

 “Kathryn,” he said, “You must learn to trust the experience of those who are older than you.  How will you ever learn anything if you don’t trust anyone?”

She looked at him with blank eyes and then left without responding.  The questions continued coming and debating themselves within her head.  Some answers were found, but they would not be able to satisfy her until they had been tested against the ideas of others.  She was so occupied with these thoughts that she gave no consideration to where she was headed until she found herself in the same garden where she often met Jorim and Jacob.  This realization brought her the first sense of peace she had felt all day.

#

Just three more repetitions, Jorim told himself in an attempt to distract his mind from the burning in his arms and shoulders.  The bracelets he was wearing on his wrists were only two pounds each, but they felt as if they were considerably heavier.  He looked in dismay at how much the staff he was holding parallel to the ground was shaking, but was unable to do anything to steady it.

“Eight!” called the instructor.

Jorim and the nineteen other students swung their staves in horizontal arcs, bringing them to the other sides of their bodies.  He glanced over his shoulder at Jacob, who was letting the tip of his staff dip until it almost touched the floor.  Usually Jacob’s form was much better than his own.  The pride in finally being able to outlast his friend in an exercise helped to ease the pain in his muscles.

“Nine!”

He swung his staff back to the other side and noticed the sound of Jacob’s movements lagging a half second behind his own.  He did not turn his head to take another look, but kept his eyes fixed on the tip of his weapon as he struggled to keep it level.  Just one more.

“Ten!”

With no strength left in his arms, Jorim torqued his hips around, forcing his torso and arms to follow.  Once his staff reached its target position, he held it there for an instant to prove his control to himself before letting one end fall to the floor.  Using it to help support his weary body, he looked over at his friend who was leaning against his staff in a similar fashion, but breathing much heavier and clearly more exhausted.  He wanted to ask him if he was all right, but it was strictly forbidden for students to speak without permission.  Instead, he turned his eyes back toward the instructor who was pacing slowly in front of the class, silently surveying his trainees.

“Tired, Jacob?” he asked when he had reached him.

“Yes, sir,” he managed to reply as he gasped for air.

“It looks like you’ll need a lot more conditioning before you’re able to handle the two pound weights.”

“Two pounds, sir?  I’m sorry, sir, but I thought you had told us to use twenty pounds.”

The instructor froze in disbelief and then pulled up one of the loose sleeves of Jacob’s shirt.  There on his arm were two ten-pound bracelets.

“I said two pounds, Jacob!  Why didn’t you say something if you misheard me?  Surely you must have known that I wouldn’t expect you to jump all the way from one to twenty pounds!”

“I figured you had your reasons, sir, even if I didn’t understand them.”

The instructor laughed and added, “You’ll make a fine soldier, Jacob.”

#

It was the penultimate day of the week-long festival, and everyone in the village had gathered for the competitions.  Throughout the rest of the year their skills as lumberjacks provided for their needs, sustaining their lives from one week to the next.  During these few days, however, they were transformed into frivolous games as a means of paying homage to those who had attained the greatest mastery of them.

Only two remained in the children’s competition--boys aged fourteen and twelve.  The younger one, despite his age, had managed to finish second the previous year.  He was the oldest son of the village’s chief, and everyone was eager to see how much his skills had improved after another twelve months of training.  So far their expectations had been more than adequately met.  In the earlier rounds, none of his opponents had even cut a quarter of the way through their trees by the time he had felled his.

The competitors stood with their freshly sharpened axes resting on their shoulders in front of two similarly sized trees.  As soon as the signal was given, the older boy began hacking away furiously while the younger one simply closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath.  As he slowly released it, he opened his eyes and calmly considered the tree standing before him.  Suddenly his face tensed into an expression of focused intensity and he brought three effortless strokes against the tree.  The third cut clean through the trunk, ending the competition.

Dumbfounded, his opponent lowered the head of his axe to the ground and leaned against the handle panting.  Despite his defeat he flashed a smile of admiration toward his obvious superior.  The victor returned his smile, but this exchange was short-lived as the spectators quickly crowded around him, shouting wildly.

“I haven’t ever seen anything like it!”

“You’ll have to skip ahead to the adult’s competition next year if any of the other boys are to have a chance!”

“Your father better be careful or you’ll soon be besting him too!”

“We’ll be in good hands when your time comes to be chief!”

He was delirious with relief.  Since he was old enough to speak he had been told what he needed to do:  learn the art of chopping wood so that he could become a strong leader.  If he succeeded at this goal, everything else would follow.  Now he had finally proven himself. 

“Come on, let’s go to the feast.  Now is the time to enjoy yourself,” said an unknown man pulling him along.

Yes, now was a moment to be savored.  His life was not always easy, but it was simple.  As long as he and his people were not afraid to work, the forest would always take care of them.  Whatever hardships may come, nothing could take away the feeling of security that this thought provided him.

#

For several months the people had watched as the building had been constructed.  Since Abar had united the many states of the land into a single empire and declared this city its capital, the construction of new buildings, gardens, fountains, and pools had not ceased.  The capital had to be transformed into a city worthy of the ideals the Empire embodied.  Now the residents of that city gathered to see the newest building, whose extravagance was only surpassed by that of the palace itself.  Abar stood at the top of its steps, between the central pillars that supported the portico, and looked out at the crowd that had gathered for the dedication.

“Citizens,” he began, “you have entrusted my council and me with the responsibility of caring for your lives.  This has not been an easy task, but we have always striven to be worthy of that trust by ruling with wisdom and compassion.  Bearing such a burden, however, requires a rare skill that is not often found naturally among people.  That is why I present to you on this day the new Imperial school.

“The wisest men and women in the Empire have been selected to teach here, where they will train youths from every state.  The students will be taught logic, science, law, and history so that they will have the necessary skills to rule justly.  Their coursework will serve as preparation for a new exam I am instituting.  In order to ensure that only those who are most qualified are granted seats on the council, no one will be admitted who has not first passed this exam.

“This new system promises to strengthen the leaders who serve you, which will in turn improve the quality of life for every citizen of the Empire.  So please accept this school as our gift to you.”

When he finished speaking, the crowd erupted in cheering.  Many of them had not really understood what had been said, but they could not doubt that such a wondrous new building would bring them only good things.  Even after Abar had walked away, they continued cheering in anticipation of the better days ahead.

#

He read over the questions again, but still he could make no sense of them.  For the past four years he had spent every hour of every day either in the classroom attending lectures or in his dorm room studying.  He had written down every word each of his instructors had spoken and pored over them until he could recite large portions from memory, but despite his efforts the meaning behind all those words still eluded him.  Desperately he copied down various pieces of what he had heard, uncertain whether his answers had any relation to the questions being asked, but knowing that he had to write something.

It was hopeless.  The odds of his accidentally matching some fragment from his memory to the proper question were virtually zero.  All that pain and self-inflicted torture--all that time he had been so sure that he had been improving himself--had been wasted.  Four years away from the ones he loved, away from the world with which he was familiar, and away from everything that brought him joy had been rendered meaningless in the span of an hour.

Well before the allotted time was over he walked to the front of the classroom and handed his exam to the instructor--he could not withstand the torture any longer.  He avoided looking at his classmates as he left the room.  They had to know.  They could sense it.  His early departure was a signal to all of them that he had failed where they were succeeding.  He could make no excuses.  He had offered everything he had to offer, but had still come up short.

As he walked back to his room he kept his eyes on the ground to avoid looking at the magnificence of this city in which he was so unworthy to live.  This ultimate showcase of man’s artistic vision and skill was intended to bring pleasure to the elite thinkers of the Empire, not to simple villagers like him.  The other students had been right to mock his strange accent and dress.  Their minds had been able to grasp upon their first glimpse of him what his own had refused to accept until now--he did not belong here.

As soon as he entered his room he was drawn toward the object that served as the strongest link to his past life.  He picked up his axe in both hands, admiring how perfectly balanced it was.  This was the first time in four years that he had grasped its handle, yet he still felt that holding it was the most natural thing in the world.  He wanted to find the nearest forest and start slicing through it.  He could still do it.  As long as he could continue cutting wood everything would be all right, just as it had been before.

He thought of returning to the faces that he had been yearning to see for so long now.  They understood him.  They appreciated his talents and stood in awe of him because of them.  Now more than ever he longed to return to that place where people knew what was important, and what was important were those qualities that he most embodied.  If only Abar had never founded that cursed school and created that horrendous exam for gaining admittance to the council!

No, it was foolish to wish for such a thing.  If his own people held him in high esteem, it was only because they were simple and ignorant.  The attempts of his teachers to educate him had been almost completely unsuccessful, but one lesson had been learnt:  by any standard that mattered he was inadequate.  It was a harsh lesson, but he was glad to have learned it so that he was no longer living a deluded life.

He thought back to the excited faces that had sent him off to the capital to be trained in Abar’s great school with dreams of his one day joining the Imperial council--what naive fools they had been!  They had praised him only because they were too stupid to recognize his worthless incompetence.  He could not return to them and let them see him as he truly was.

He sat on the edge of his bed holding his axe just below its head, turned so that the handle rested between his knees and the blade looked him squarely in the eyes.  It had such clean edges, he thought as he remembered how easily it had sliced through the stoutest trees.  For hours he contemplated its simple elegance, not moving even after it had long since grown too dark to see.  At last, realizing that there was only one course left for him, he rose and walked out of his room still clutching his axe.

There was no one awake at that hour to see him as he walked through the streets toward the western edge of the city.  Leaving behind the region that had been tamed by man and beginning his climb through the mountains, he looked up at the sky and saw that there was neither moon nor stars to guide him.  Again and again he tripped over the uneven ground until his arms and legs were covered with open wounds, but he no longer cared enough to notice.  Several hundred feet above he could dimly make out a narrow cliff with a large boulder at its end standing as a solitary sentinel over the city.  This, he decided, would be his destination.

While he stumbled through the darkness, gradually making progress toward the cliff, he contemplated whether there were any alternatives to the path he had chosen.  Throwing himself from that cliff would be so simple.  Then all the consequences of his failure--the humiliation, the struggle of building a new life--would be gone and he would be free to rest.  These were the thoughts that were drifting through his mind as he reached the edge.

He looked once more upon his axe and remembered all that it had once meant to him.  It had been his purpose in life, but now he had no choice but to say goodbye.  He raised it over his head and then brought it down, imbuing it with all the strength that he would never need again.  The blade slammed into the boulder, which tough and hardened as it was, was unable to repel this irresistible force.  Not until the axe head had sunk several feet into the stone did it come to rest.  No one would ever be able to retrieve it to use again, he thought as he turned to walk back down to the city.

He had not been able to consider the idea of taking his own life seriously because of all the consequences of his failing, he knew that none of them were worse than death.  After all, his purpose in coming to the capital had been to provide a better life for his people and for himself.  His death would only grieve his people and certainly would do nothing to improve his own life.  Besides, it was not the fact that he still had life that was causing him pain, but the fact that he still had hope.  Now that he had let that die, all that was left was his unfeeling flesh.  Let that live.  Let it finally learn its proper place in the world.  Soon enough it would have an eternity to rest.

By the time he lay down in his bed he felt as if everything that had been him had been sucked from his body.  He had no energy, yet he did not feel tired.  He could not sleep, he could not stand, he could not think, and he could not feel, so he lay there for hours until the first ray of sunlight penetrated his window.  Then he rose and mindlessly began walking.

As water poured out on the ground will continue flowing without thought or effort until it has found its lowest point, so he wandered the streets without full consciousness of where he was going.  Around him the city was waking from its slumber.  Blacksmiths were lighting their furnaces, bakers were starting to mix their dough, and merchants were setting out their wares.  How foreign they seemed to him, those inhabitants of the world of dreams and goals and purpose.  It was a world to which he no longer belonged and to which he could never return.  If he wanted to survive, he would need to accept that fact.

Then he noticed the Imperial stable and knew, without understanding why, that he should go there.  Down the path he descended toward it and hesitantly pushed open the door.  The stench of manure struck him as soon as he entered, catching his attention as no other sensation from that morning had, for it was the first sign from the outside world that he had understood.

After the olfactory shock had passed, he looked up at the horses and marveled at the excellent condition in which they were kept.  They were strong and healthy, with lustrous, well manicured coats.  Only dumb beasts, and yet they were the objects of such lavish care.  Even they had found their place in this realm of opulence.

“Excuse me, can I help you,” said an old man in heavily soiled clothing walking up to him.

“I want to work here.”

“You want to clean out the stalls?  It’s dirty work and it doesn’t pay well.”

“I don’t care.  It’s what I want to do.”

It was the job for which his education had prepared him.

#

It was her first council meeting, and in her excitement Kathryn had been the first one to arrive.  The silence gave the chamber a pristine solemnity of such weight that she was scared to disturb it and uncertain whether, even if she had possessed the courage, she would have possessed the power to do so.  In this moment, more than in any other since she had come to the capital, she doubted her ability to bring about the change for which she hoped.

A slightly raised, circular platform stood in the middle of the room, surrounded by the fifty-three chairs for the representatives from each state.  The seal of the house of Yedinay--the outline of a pine tree with a rising sun behind it--was etched into its highly-polished, wooden surface.  She had been taught that the pine tree stood for the strength, endurance, and longevity of the undying Empire, while the sun represented the divine ruling wisdom of the emperor.  Looking around, Kathryn noticed that four of the chairs had been pushed back so that they were a couple feet outside the circle formed by the others.  They must have belonged to the states that had failed to produce anyone capable of passing the exam.  Their representatives were still permitted to participate in the discussions, but their votes did not count in any of the final decisions.

A chill rose up her spine as she thought back to the exam she had recently passed and the schooling that had led up to it.  It had tested no real thinking abilities--it was only there to ensure that people went through the Imperial school to learn the useless facts that it taught.  What use would that education be to her on the council?  No, it was really just a veiled method of weeding out the poor and guaranteeing that council seats only went to those wealthy enough to afford the high cost of living in the capital.

In a ring behind the chairs stood statues of the members of the very first council of the Yedinay Empire, like unyielding sentinels watching over the government they had instituted.  She walked around until she found the likeness of Abar I.  He had lured them in saying that it would be a council of equals--no one’s opinion would be given a stronger weight than anyone else’s.  How long had Abar allowed them to believe that they had any power before shedding the pretense and crowning himself emperor?  How many councilors today were still deceiving themselves into believing it was they who ruled?  Hundreds of years after Abar’s death, his mute statue still had the strongest voice in the council.  The government was not a law-making body, but merely an institution for preserving the regulations handed down to them by their predecessors.

She would be so much more than that.  Already she had formulated plans to improve the way the Empire collected and redistributed goods.  Every free moment she had been able to find as a student had been spent learning about the way the process worked.  There were too many instances of a single person being given responsibility with no one to check him.  The opportunity for corruption was too great, but she had a plan to reduce this threat drastically with only an insignificant sacrifice of efficiency.

A faint cough caused Kathryn to turn away from the statue, and she was surprised to see that several other councilors had already entered and seated themselves without her noticing.  She quickly, but silently, found the chair engraved with the name of her state, Glendan, and sat down.  Within a few minutes the rest of the seats had been filled and the secretary rose to start the meeting.  Kathryn listened eagerly as he began calling out the role, concentrating on how she would say the word “present” so that her first official word in a council meeting would be perfect.  A thrill rushed through her as she finally heard her name, causing her voice to quiver as she gave her response.

As the discussion began she held each word in her mind to ruminate over its meaning and savor the depth of its importance.  It was these words that would shape the policy of the entire Empire.  Even if everyone else there had long ago relinquished their power, the potential was still there.  The figures that were being read of the amount of wheat that had been produced in each region represented the lives of real people.  Her father and mother and brothers were among those people.  It was now her responsibility to ensure that each of them had what they required to survive.

She scrambled to keep up with the numbers as they came at her, wondering how the others were able to process such a deluge of information.  If she had been able to spare a second to take a casual glance around the chamber, she would have found her answer.  None of her fellow councilors were paying attention--most were looking over notes for their own reports.  A couple were dozing lightly.

“That’s everything for the wheat distribution,” said the councilor when he had finished reading his report.  “Copies of my proposal will be provided for each of you and we’ll have the vote tomorrow.  Is there any more business concerning crop redistribution before we move on?”

Kathryn waited for someone to speak, but the room remained silent.

The councilor started again, “In that case...”

“Excuse me,” interrupted Kathryn timidly.  She proceeded to speak rapidly without pausing for breath, “But there’s an issue I’d like to address.  I’m worried that our current system of overseeing distribution encourages corruption, but I have a plan that could fix that and it wouldn’t be too difficult to implement...”

“I’m glad to see that one of our newest councilors is taking such initiative,” said the first councilor as soon as Kathryn was finally forced to take a breath.  “Perhaps you should wait a few sessions before introducing anything.  That will give you time to understand better how things work and to formulate your plan.”

“But I’ve already worked it all out,” Kathryn said waving a stack of papers toward him.  “It’ll just take a couple minutes for me to outline the basic idea.”

The councilor laughed and replied, “Well, I can see you’ve been quite busy, but really, there’s no hurry.  The Empire has been running just fine for nearly half a millennium.  I think it can wait a few more weeks for you to settle in.”

“This council has been stagnant for nearly half a millennium.  Every hour we procrastinate is just going to make it that much harder to really start working again,” answered Kathryn in a tone that was no longer reserved and even bore a hint of anger.

“Are there any seconds to the new councilor’s suggestion to open up discussion on distribution reforms?”  Again the chamber fell silent.  After a few seconds he continued, “Very well.  Let’s move on to the next order of business, then.”

#

It was his first council meeting, and being new to the capital, he had become lost and was the last to arrive.  He recognized Abar immediately from when he had visited their town six months ago preaching his plan to unify all the states into a single confederation.  Their armies would be shared to increase the security of all, their goods would be shared to increase the prosperity of all, and the burden of leadership would be shared to increase the freedom of all.  Each state would have an equal voice so that no one was treated unjustly.  His state had been eager to join, and had been one of the first to send a representative to the new capital to serve on the council.  Unfortunately, his predecessor had become ill, and he had just been appointed as his replacement.

The other councilors were holding conversations in isolated groups of twos and threes.  Only Abar sat by himself talking to no one.  They were discussing recent news from each of their respective regions, feeling out what exchanges might be open for consideration once the official meeting began.  He listened attentively, waiting for an opportunity to break into one of the conversations, but before one arose, Abar stood up.

“The confederation is not working,” he said in a steady voice that was void of emotion.  “There is too much chaos, and a strong hand is needed to restore order.  Therefore I have decided to crown myself the first emperor of the Yedinay Empire.  This is not a debatable issue, but if anyone wishes to make any comments he is free to do so now.”

He wanted to leap to his feet and scream back his response, but he was unsure of what to say.  Surely one of the more experienced councilors would know how to fight this decision better than he would.  Why was no one saying anything?  All of them would suffer from this.  Even to one with no trace of greed or ambition in his being, too much power could create an addictive high too strong to resist.  Given to someone like Abar, who clearly already possessed a rather voracious appetite for power, the results would be disastrous for everyone on the continent.  How could they let a confederation meant to serve the needs of all be consumed by an empire that would serve the needs of only one?

He searched their faces for some sign of help, but all he found was meek acceptance.  Were they scared, or just too apathetic to exert the effort to speak?  Every muscle in his body was straining to thrust himself up from his chair, yet the oppressive unanimity of their silence held him where he sat.  He could sense that the issue had already been decided in the minds of everyone else, and there was no argument that could change that.

After a long thirty seconds Abar continued, “The council will still meet here, but only in an advisory capacity.  My voice alone shall give the final verdict in all matters concerning the Empire.”

Then Abar walked out of the room without saying another word.

#

Kathryn looked down from the bridge like a god at the miniature world before her--foot-wide continents scattered throughout an ankle-deep ocean, vast forests of miniature shrubs, deserts that could be traversed by a single step, and mountains that could be cleared in a single leap.  Of all the gardens in the capital, this was her favorite.  The simplicity of its components--ordinary rocks, a few bushes, carefully raked sand--along with the meticulously planned randomness of their arrangement gave it a relaxing feeling that could not be found anywhere else in that busy city.

            “Hello there!”

            She turned her gaze upward and saw Jorim in his deep green military cloak.  Next to him was Jacob, who had only last month earned the right to wear the rich crimson cloak of the elites.  He was the youngest soldier ever to earn that honor.

            “Hi,” she answered, “back from defending the Empire from whatever evils might arise to threaten its peace?”

            “Well, that flood wall did look like it might be ready to burst within another decade or so.  So yes, I think the excellent job we did of escorting the several cartloads of stone there for reinforcements should be earning us both medals of honor,” replied Jorim.

            “And how about you?” asked Jacob.  “You seem in unusually high spirits for having just come from a council meeting.  Have you finally started to accept the routine there?”

            Kathryn thought for a moment and then half-whispered, more to herself than her friends, “No...I just had a very interesting conversation with a couple of my colleagues afterwards.”

            “Anything you can share with us, or is it top-secret government stuff,” Jorim asked with a grin.

            “Nothing like that,” laughed Kathryn with her voice returning to normal volume.  “It was shop talk that probably wouldn’t interest you.”

            The three of them wandered through the garden sharing stories.  Ever since Jorim and Jacob had graduated from the academy they had no longer been able to see Kathryn on a daily basis.  Their missions would often keep them out of the capital for weeks at a time, so they had all developed a greater appreciation for their rare opportunities to meet.  As their conversation progressed, however, it eventually found its way from personal matters back to the political discussions that had always dominated their time together.

            “Have you ever thought about free trade?” asked Kathryn.

            Jacob gave her a somewhat puzzled look.  “What do you mean?”

            “You know, if the government didn’t take so much from its citizens and just let them trade for whatever they needed.”

            “You’re not just trying to pass off your work onto the people, are you?” asked Jacob.

            “Well now there’s a benefit I hadn’t thought of...although actually that’s not too far from my point.  I guess it’s more a matter of not trusting myself to do the job rather than being too lazy to do it.  I just wonder whether it’s too much responsibility putting such a small body in charge of the allocation of goods for an entire continent.”

            “So you’d rather have no one in charge of it?”

            “I’d rather leave it up to the laws of supply and demand.  We’re never going to be able to distribute goods perfectly to everyone who needs them, so we might as well at least have a system that’s fair.  I’d rather depend on my own ability to produce than to be forced to rely on the wisdom and integrity of the emperor.”

            “You don’t trust the emperor?”

            Jorim finally joined the conversation, adding, “Sure the current system isn’t perfect, but I don’t think that means we shouldn’t try.  We can’t just abandon the farmer who happens to have a bad harvest.”

            “I grew up on a farm, remember?” replied Kathryn.  “You don’t have to worry about me abandoning the farmers.  I’m not saying the government shouldn’t intervene at all, but there’s plenty of room between the current system and a completely hands-off economy.”

            “Yeah, but what makes you think having less government control will improve things?”  Jorim asked.

            “Maybe I’m just becoming too cynical.  I don’t trust people not to act selfishly, so the best way to combat that is to put people’s greed in competition with each other’s and hope that it all cancels out for the greater good.  I’m not saying it necessarily would be better, but why not at least discuss it?”

            Jorim was about to answer, but Jacob shot back first, “Because it wouldn’t work.”

            “And how do you know that?”

            “Because Abar I had his reasons for setting up the system he did.”

            “And what reasons are those?”

            “I don’t know, but he had them and that’s good enough for me.”

            “Well you can’t really argue with that.”

            “No you can’t.”

            Kathryn seemed to be becoming frustrated and was having trouble formulating a response, so Jorim stepped in again.  “What about morale?  Do you think people would work as hard if they knew some natural disaster could wipe out their work and they might not receive any compensation?”

            “They’d work harder because the government wouldn’t bail them out from their laziness.”

            “That’s a good point,” said Jorim thoughtfully.  “You may have something there.”

            As Jorim pondered this, Jacob interjected, “Maybe, but even if a free market did encourage people to work harder, that wouldn’t outweigh the other disadvantages.”

            “How do you know?” asked Kathryn.

            “I trust the emperor.”

            “You need to learn to think for yourself.”

            “Why?  I’m happy.  The Empire seems to be getting along quite well.  Why change anything?”

            “But haven’t you ever thought that maybe things could be better?”

            “By whose standards?  My job is to see that the emperor’s standards are met.  I have no ambitions beyond that.”

            “I just hope that the emperor lives up to your standards,” said Kathryn gently.  “If he lets you down, then you’re going to be left with nothing.”

#

Light was returning once more to the jungle.  Jacob could not remember now how many mornings he had seen there.  It did not matter.  Anything he had to look forward to had been stolen from him, so the passage of time was no longer relevant.  He continued his aimless path through the village, not being bored by the fact that he had already walked by all the same sights several dozen times, because he saw none of them.  The yawning chasm that had been left within him after all that he held dear had been removed tore at his innards, drawing the focus of his senses away from the outside world.

What were those rebels doing to the capital now?  This question, which kept coming back to his mind despite his efforts not to think about it, still caused him to shiver every time it resurfaced.  That magnificent city--that symbol of greatness, peace, and unity--was now in the hands of those who were incapable of understanding its worth.  What would become of all those helpless people who had been bereft of the Empire’s care due to the ambition of a few selfish people?  It was best to forget about it.  This wilderness was well beyond the reach of whatever government might be set up there.

The people were starting to come out of their huts.  He tried to avoid looking at them because he feared what he might do in any momentary lapse of control.  His pain demanded to be spread to everyone, and although he had withstood its pleas to this point, he was unsure of his ability to continue doing so indefinitely.  Fortunately they could see this.  The empty gaze of his eyes, the bent posture of his body, and the stumbling shuffle of his gait all bore witness to the intense sorrow within.  It was a sorrow such that even experienced from a distance, it was more than any of them could bear.  They all knew to stay away from him.  All of them save one.

“Hello there!  Beautiful morning isn’t it?”

Why could Dinah not see what they saw?

“You look kind of tired.  Did you sleep at all last night?  Come to think of it, have you slept at all in the past four days?”

Or did she just not place any value on her life?

“I brought some fruit if you want it,” she said holding up a basket.  “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you eat either.  You can’t tell me you’re not starving.”

Do not even look at it.  Any encouragement will only ensure that she never leaves me alone again.

“You’re not deaf, are you?  Or mute?  Or maybe both?”

Maybe she will believe I am deaf and give up.

“Come on, you can’t keep on living like this.  Something terrible has happened to you.  A lost loved one maybe?  I can only imagine how much they must have meant to you and how much pain you’re in right now, but they wouldn’t have wanted you to suffer on their account.  Have some food.  I promise you it’ll make you feel better.”

I do not wish to feel better.  Why should I feel happy when the world is in such ruin?

“Well if you won’t talk to me, at least let me walk with you.”  Then she added with a grin, “If you don’t want me tagging along, then just say so.”

He did not lift his head to look at her, but he could feel her walking beside him.  What was it that kept drawing Dinah to him despite his efforts to drive her away?  He did not want her friendship, for it could never replace what had been lost to him.  Even if it could, he would not dishonor the memory of the ideal he loved so much by attempting to seek contentment elsewhere in its absence.  No, he had given his heart to but one lover and would remain faithful to her even if it meant the abdication of his own happiness.  This was the only fitting tribute he had to offer.

Together they wandered through the village for hours, neither saying a word to the other.  Dinah’s eyes remained fixed on his face, but he never lifted his own to return her gaze.  The other villagers could not understand why she refused to give up on him, but were relieved by her persistence.  When she was with him he somehow seemed less dangerous.  It was an imperceptible change, and no one would have been able to explain what it was, but something in the way he carried himself spoke of a definite transformation within.  The grief was not gone, but had been muted ever so slightly.

“Well, I have work to do, so I’ve got to go,” she said at last.  “But I’ll be back as soon as I can, and you know where to find me if you decide you need me sooner.”

As she walked away Jacob paused, too briefly for anyone to notice, and then continued on as before.

#

She did not have to come down to the docks herself, but on a hot summer day there was nothing she enjoyed more than feeling the cool breeze off the ocean.  In front of her were men straining at the end of a rope that ran over a pulley and down into a boat that was moored along the pier.  As they pulled, the net attached to the other end rose slowly into the air, the wet scales of the wriggling fish within sparkling in the sunlight.

“It looks like you’ve had another successful voyage,” she said when she saw the ship’s captain.

“Aye, it’s been a good couple of weeks for us.”

It had been a good time for all the fishermen of the city.  That was fortunate because a late cold snap in the spring had killed off much of the farmers’ crops in the eastern part of the state.  By sending a larger than expected shipment of fish to the capital, she would have a more persuasive argument when requesting extra crops from the council.  Only a few years before, such an exchange would not have been possible.  In those days before the confederation, the surplus fish would have rotted in stinking heaps while the people would have gone without bread.  Many had been scared when Abar set himself above the rest of the council and declared himself emperor, but so far the trade had not been hindered, and that was all that mattered to her.

Her father was the richest fisherman in the city and one of the wealthier people in the state.  When they had first joined Abar’s confederation, he had been the popular choice to be put in charge of overseeing the goods redistribution in the region.  However, he had not wanted to give up fishing, so she had taken the job in his place.  She had enjoyed the position, finding pleasure in both the intellectual challenge of it and in the knowledge that she was providing a critical service to the people.

The past week had been particularly busy, because another shipment from her state was soon due in the capital and needed to be sent off within a couple of days.  It was her responsibility to take inventory of both her state’s production and its want.  Whatever surplus was not used up by internal consumption would be shipped to the capital where it could be delivered to any region in the Empire that might not be so fortunate.  She also needed to send an official request for whatever goods she felt her state required.  Formerly, these requests were processed by a council made up of a representative from each state.  About half a year ago, however, Abar had assumed all decision making powers to himself, relegating the council to an advisory role.

The strong production from the fishermen had put her in a good mood as she walked back to her house.  She much preferred being the one with the power to give than the one dependent on handouts from others.  Her house was already in sight when she noticed a caravan of empty wagons being pulled toward it.  Curious to see who they were, she began running up to meet them.  As she drew closer, she saw that her home was indeed their destination, and a few moments later she was able to recognize the identity of the men driving the wagons by their deep green cloaks.  She arrived at her house a few minutes before they did, still catching her breath as she greeted them.

“Hello.  Can I do something for you?”

“Are you in charge of the goods distribution here?” asked one of the cloaked men.

“Yes, I am.”

“You were.  We’ve been sent to inform you that by decree of Abar I, the Imperial army shall henceforth be in charge of all the collection and redistribution of goods.  We thank you for your service, but you will no longer be needed to help in this capacity.”  His voice was stiff, as if reciting from memory.

“But why?  I don’t want someone else to take over.  I like my work.  Besides, isn’t it better to have someone local--someone who understands the needs and capabilities of the region?”

“Sorry, ma’am.  The emperor was very clear about this.  But you have his firm assurance that this decision has not been reached lightly and that it has been made with the best interests of the Empire as a whole in mind.”

“But...”

She could think of nothing else to say.  How could she argue against reasons that had not been given?  She was not worried about finding work.  There was always a position waiting for her aboard one of her father’s boats.  What worried her was the breach of trust by Abar.  It was obvious that the purpose of this new edict was only to draw more power to himself.  Barely six month had passed since the young confederation had been transformed into an empire, and already its supreme ruler had been infected by greed.  Unless something happened to change his course, she feared where Abar I would lead the continent.  Helplessly she watched as the wagons began rolling toward the docks where they would be filled with plunder to bring back to their master.

#

Kathryn walked away from the council chamber as quickly as she could, trying to force out the thought that she would have to return again the next day.  For now her only concern was to get away.  Five years she had served there, and her list of accomplishments could not even fill a single page.  When she thought back to the goals she had set for herself when she had first decided to join the council, she could not keep the tears from her eyes.  The plan she had formulated before her very first meeting--her plan to check military corruption by having civilian escorts for all goods collection convoys--had not only never been implemented, but it had never even been discussed on the council floor.  Five years, and still she had no pull with her peers.

That afternoon they had been discussing the taxation level on wheat.  There had been no major shortages that year, so she had proposed allowing the farmers to keep more of what they had produced rather than handing the entire surplus over to fill the warehouses of the capital in fear of some future catastrophe.  Why force them to live in want now simply to save them from the possibility of want later?  It was not that the opposing view had no merit, but that no one even bothered to bring up any supporting arguments that she found so aggravating.  The only response she received was, “The emperor will never allow it,” and the debate had been closed without a vote.

How could she return the next day?  What would be the point?  No, she could not think about that now.  She would go to the garden and allow herself time to reflect.  The boys were supposed to be returning that evening--talking with Jorim always brightened her disposition.  She made an abrupt turn to head toward the garden, and in doing so nearly ran into someone who had been following behind her.

“Excuse me!” she said, and then noticed that she recognized the man and his companion beside him.  They were both senior council members.

“No, no, not at all.  It was entirely my fault--I was walking too close.  It’s just that we were hoping to be able to talk with you, but you had seemed so preoccupied that we hadn’t wanted to disturb you.  Do you have a few minutes?”

“I guess so,” she answered, trying to keep her voice steady by suppressing the emotions that had been brooding within her.  “What’s on your mind?”

“We just wanted to let you know that we empathized with what you’ve been going through in the council.  It’s not right for them to brush you aside like that with such flimsy arguments.”

“Thanks...but why didn’t you say anything in there?” she asked, hoping that she had successfully hidden the resentment she felt.

“Many years ago, well before you joined the council, we were as outspoken as you.”  He paused briefly before adding, “And we met with the same amount of success.”

The other man continued, choosing his words very deliberately, “We’ve since decided that trying to force our ideas through the council might not be the best way to effect the changes we desire.  Tell me, are you opposed to change?”

Both the tone and content of the question struck her as odd.  If they had been paying any attention to her in the meetings, as they claimed they had, then they should have already known the answer.  There was something more to it that he had left unspoken, but she had not figured out what it was as he had probably hoped she would.

“No.  I’m very much in favor of change...if it’s for the good.”

“Of course.  And you’ve seen for yourself, as have we, that bringing about change by working through the council can be a bit difficult.  Would you ever consider thinking about...alternative methods?”

“Well, I’m not...I suppose...” her words stumbled out until the meaning of what they were talking about finally solidified in her mind.  She continued in a firmer, more definite tone, “Yes.  I believe I would.”

This brought a smile to both of their faces.  One of them handed her a crumpled scrap of paper and whispered, “In case you’d like to discuss this more.  Hopefully we’ll see you again soon, and in the meantime you should consider whether your duty is to serve the Empire, or to serve the people it represents.”

As they walked away, she unfolded the paper she had been handed.  On it were written the words, “The north garden.  2 a.m.”

 #

The main hall of the palace was filled with people pushing and jostling with one another, each attempting to obtain a better view.  They all wanted to be able to see the two new councilors who were being inducted.  The only restriction to serve on the council was that a person be able to pass the exam.  Beyond that, the states were free to select their representatives in whatever way they saw fit.  Many were appointed for life, and the others were chosen at irregular intervals, so it was rare to have two new members at the same ceremony.

Kathryn kept running her hands over the black velvet strips that lined the edges of her maroon robe, taking pleasure in the rich softness of the fabric.  The garment she had been given to wear for the ceremony was perhaps the most valuable object she had ever touched.  Although it was merely an external covering, it helped her to feel that she belonged, that she was worthy of her luxurious surroundings.  Still, she kept trying to remind herself that it was not the robe that made her worthy of the title she was about to receive--it was all the challenges she had overcome to be there.  It was the many weeks of earning the support of her fellow farmers in order to raise the money to move to the capital.  It was having the courage to leave everyone she knew and loved to live in a city that was completely foreign to anything she had ever experienced.  It was the endless hours of studying useless facts to pass an exam of trivia.  It was the research she had done beyond her required coursework to understand how the system she was about to enter worked.

A chorus of trumpets called out, indicating that it was time for her and her fellow inductee to enter the main hall.  She was amazed at the number of people crowded in there and overwhelmed at the realization that they had all come to see her.  Watching her companion through the periphery of her eye, she tried to match her steps with his--slow and majestic, just as she had been instructed.  Gradually they made their way toward the flight of four steps that led up to the platform where the ceremony itself would take place.

Upon reaching her place at the top of the stairs, Kathryn looked around at the priceless artifacts displayed on that stage.  Flanking her and the other inductee were two candle stands of highly polished silver.  Directly in front of them was a small rectangular table, about six feet in length with a three foot square cross section.  Each of the four side faces was covered by a silver mirror, and on top was a neat arrangement of various silver bowls, plates, chalices, and other articles, each presumably symbolic of some or the other virtue of the Empire.

So much silver.  How much were the contents of that table alone worth?  How long would the articles that occupied that stage with her be able to keep her family fed?  She looked down again at her robe and the thought of how she had doted over it made her feel queasy.  She was about to become a part of all this.  Had all those farmers who earned every morsel of food they ate with hours of intense labor sacrificed a portion of their precious produce just so she could join this cult of extravagance?

Again the trumpeters began to blow, their call sounding much louder to her this time, for they were standing only a few feet away at the base of the steps.  As they played, three men walked onto the platform, coming up a second set of stairs on the back side.  The two in front were wearing crimson cloaks and walked to either side of the table where they stopped and faced the inductees.  The third man positioned himself in front of the table midway between them.  His clothes were of such an exaggerated level of opulence that Kathryn now had the sudden feeling that she was under-dressed.  This was the emperor.

The trumpeters stopped their fanfare once he was in place.  Patiently waiting for the last echoes to fade, as if refusing to allow any noise to compete with his words, the emperor began his speech.  It started with a reminder of the great wisdom of Abar I in founding the Empire on such noble principles.  From there it warned of the importance of vigilance in protecting those virtues of unity, order, and equality.  The entire time he was speaking, Kathryn kept staring at the silver on the table behind him, wondering about the nature of what it was she was being called to serve.

“And the greatest responsibility in upholding the glorious traditions of the Empire falls on the council that rules it,” he said, turning his head from the crowd to the new councilors.  “Do you pledge your loyalty to upholding the Empire and the ideals it represents?”

Kathryn hesitated almost imperceptibly before answering, “I do.”

An empire consisted of people, not a single man, she told herself.

            #