“My first real memory from childhood, is of Hell.”

Around me the city was moving.  People walked by in great numbers, on their way to and from their own business.  The breeze carried the smells of the sea across the streets, the local salt marshes lending their pungent aroma to the scents of food and flowers from the shops around the street.  The chair in which I sat was cordoned off from the street itself, and I had had a small table to myself before someone sat across from me.  I gazed at him calmly, occasionally taking a sip from my coffee.

“Is that so?  Was that for the coronation?”  His voice was melodic and rich. 

He knew about the coronation…that marked him as not a commoner, which his tunic and robe had been hinting at.

This man who’d sat down opposite me was peculiar.  He’d taken the seat only a few minutes before, and struck up this conversation…I felt like I’d known him for a long while, despite his strangeness.  His skin was a faint yellowish, with a shock of red hair that looked almost translucent. The musculature driving his jaw was pronounced as if molded to the side of his head with clay, and it moved smoothly as he spoke. Teeth sharp and slightly angled, his eyes were a clear white, strangely with no blood vessels showing at all, green irises like a spring forest - and the pupils of which were dual purple specks set side-by-side. Not a Shadrim, not human, his species was completely unfamiliar to me.

He had introduced himself as Arnd.

I nodded, and swallowed.  “I was four years old at the time, and it was the first formal event I attended.  You should have seen the clothes my family fitted for me.”

“I probably saw them.”

“Really?  You were in attendance for the coronation?”  I was beginning to understand now.

“I imagine the training was difficult for someone that age,” he said. 

“Oh yes, despite it being a joyous occasion, we couldn’t afford to have any slip-ups before the King.  I was drilled in proper methods of demonstrating and observing station.”

“That was a very glorious ceremony, yes.  We were planning the assaults on the Bone Mountains of Kriaak at the time.  I don’t remember how the old Emperor died, though.”

I pointed to my plate.  “Choked on a bone.  She was over eighty years old, after all.” 

He nodded.  “Oh yes, I remember her lamenting how stupid it was to be Emperor over five worlds and to be brought low by something so trivial.  She really was furious.”

I smiled.  “Yes, humility is sometimes lacking at the rarified heights.  When you have almost eight hundred million subjects and twice that many slaves, it’s hard to imagine something like a chicken to be your downfall.” 

“She recovered well, though,” he said.

“Yes, I’m told she was most gracious in meeting with the nine houses to choose a successor.”  I sipped from my coffee.  “I was too young to really remember it well, but my father regales me with the story from time to time.  For being the sixth son, he spent an inordinate amount of time with me, telling stories.”

“You are the sixth?”

I nodded.  “Before you ask, I have no expectations of inheritance.  Ninth of ten children, I’m pretty low in our rank here.”

He shrugged.  “There are ways to carve one’s name without relying on family.”

“Is that why we’re talking now?”  I looked over to the street where a team of halflings pulling a milk-wagon stopped and began carting a few large metal barrels in one of the doors.  Their whipmaster was human, riding in the driver’s seat and half asleep. 

He smiled at that.  “Clever and deductive, I did say I wanted to know more about you.”

I reflexively curled my tail around my chair and feet.  Seeing him smile was both comforting and unnerving.  I couldn’t quite tell where I stood with this man.  I felt a bit like a bug on a card.

A memory came back.  “Flattery, but I’m a no-one here.  Maybe I don’t understand as I should.”

I figured it best to continue where we had been.  “I still remember our House Matron in my room, standing by my mirror and inspecting every detail of my attire, demanding I bow properly so many times that I lost count.”

“So you’re accomplished at court?”

I shrugged.  “I’m a Voruscan noble.  She must have done something right, but it took six months or more.  I remember only the barest of details of that training, but if you throw me into court today, I’ll remember the precise bows, salutes, and courtesies needed.” 

“She sounds very good.”

I nodded.  “Tail wraps to the right just so, horns angled just so, and so on.  Failures were emphasized with the rod, which did in fact accelerate my learning, though I must admit I grew to resent it.”

“If it accomplishes the job, the subject’s feelings on the matter are not all that important.”

“That sounds military.  Are you with the Caern Jale?”

“More or less.” 

“You are enabled to discipline Shadrim, then?” 

“I have dispensation from the Throne, though I am not of your blood.”

“That’s interesting.  I was of the mind that no Unsworn were permitted to lay hands on us.  The punishment for such action is rather severe.”  The Voruscan Empire had a variety of criminal punishments, but none were quite so vicious as those in place to discourage violence against the nobility.

“In my service, all titles of nobility are on hiatus.  In fact, I’m more likely to send you to the boats than anyone who might visit violence upon you.”

I sat back and chewed a bit.  “At least you’re honest about it, that’s refreshing.”

“I have no interest nor profit in deception here.  I’ve never had to sentence anyone for treason or cowardice, so I haven’t had to practice that particular punishment yet.”

“Glad to hear that, though there’s always a first time.” I smiled as I said it.

“You remind me of your father, you have his profile.  Same heavy horns, same bronze eyes.  I suspect you have a good bit of him in you, and as a result I’m not too concerned about betrayals of State.”

“How do you know my father?”

“I know the masters of all the nine Houses.  I knew the masters of the four extinct ones as well, when they were still around.  Some even served with me.”

“You seem to get around a lot, and to have known the absent houses, that’s a few centuries’ work.”

“I age well,” he smiled again.

“You must be relatively highly placed.”

He nodded.  “One does not reach my position overnight.  I have been tasked by my master to represent him with your people for a rather long while.  Which is why I know your family,” he paused to attract the attention of the serving maid.

“I understand you were fairly accomplished in the elemental arts, is that right?” He asked after a moment.

I ordered another coffee, while he ordered a meal.  He referred to our penchant for magic – my people were well-versed in it, so much so that even our children would be considered formidable wizards among the primitive Northern tribes.  Some lands prided themselves as being competitive in the mage arts with Voruscans, but we only permit them as a means of introducing opportunities for innovation.  Were they ever to become a threat, no doubt they would have been integrated, or excised.

“Yes, I was taught from our family’s books,” I said.  “And probably the only inheritance I will have is our familial alliances with the Ancients.  Since you were around beforehand, did you have any role to play in the Ascension?”

“I was not the broker of that particular deal,” he said.  “That was a personal matter between the King and your Council of Wizards, at the behest of your House lords.  My time was well after that.”

“So as Shadrim,” I tapped my left horn for emphasis, “you were elsewhere?”

“I didn’t say that,” he said.  “I just said I didn’t arrange the contract.”

I nodded.

“You seem like you may be unhappy with your geneology.”

I looked up.  “No, not at all.  We conquered the Dwarves outright, the Elves retreat before us to their forest strongholds bordering the Fey lands, Maure, P’Logrian, and Suche are entirely under our dominion.  We have gained much from the Ascension, and I am happy with the hand I’ve been dealt.  I could have been born a slave, a Halfling, even a G’torrian.  I cannot argue that the Ascension didn’t meet its goals.”

“Have you any great ambitions?  A satisfied soul often has no direction.”

“Of course I wish to establish my name, my own house.  Perhaps a mercantile company will enable this, but as you’ve probably guessed, a term of service in the military may be quicker.”

He nodded, then prompted “Tell me a bit more about your memory of the coronation.”

“Well, there’s a lot of it, but I was most impressed with the Throne itself, that enormous dias, so many tiers, all that rough-cut black glass, and the crushed red velvet and rivets of gold.  And of course, the King himself and his Angels.  From my height, I felt like I was looking up a mountain to heaven.”

I took a drink before continuing.  “I understand every God creates and owns his angels, and that they take on forms particular to their master.  I was surprised at the ghostly nature of them, at times insubstantial, from other angles almost like statues.  And then, of course, the King.  He was astonishingly beautiful.”

“Was there anything you found peculiar in your visit?”

“I remember the King stopping me, as we presented ourselves to him.  He gave me his hand.  My father was right there, and the king said something like ‘His sacrifice is your gain, child.  Take my boon.’  He had very long fingers.”

He slowly sat straight up in his chair.  “He said that?  To you?”

I nodded, a little confused at his intensity.  “I’m actually surprised to remember it so well, seeing how young I was.  I suppose it made quite the impression.”

“Did he elaborate?”

I shook my head.  “That, I can’t recall.  I was a child.”

“You remember nothing else of what he said?”

“I remember he told my father something, ‘You grace me with restfulness,’ or something.  I also remember he held my hand for a long while as they talked.  He was an awesome figure, just being around him made me feel dizzy, and holding his hand so long I didn’t know how to disengage.”

“Obviously he did, though,” he said.

“Yes, and a little later my father told me I did exactly right.  I was so proud to please him.”

“You should be.  You are one of perhaps three people in the history of your race to receive the King’s boon.  One of six I know to have actually touched him.  Do you know what form it took?”

I shook my head.  “I don’t, no.  I never understood what it was.”

He frowned, as though calculating something in his mind.  “Anything else you recall?”

“The rest of the visit is a bit blurry to me, though I remember enjoying it immensely as a place to explore.”  I thought about it a bit.  “I wandered the great halls and marbled rooms, looked out the windows at the great burning core, the great tapestries and strange armors were very interesting to me as a child.  The memory is still fresh.  Maybe someday I’ll see them again.” 

“Your father was made Regent, yes?”

I set my cup down.  “That’s right – the Silver Spire took the crown when Jaden of House Cartaiga was made emperor, but Father was declared the guardian regent should something befall him.  Quite the coup for us, I don’t think father had any desire or expectation to be elevated so.”

I took another drink.  “I remember…a mouse.”

He looked at me, head cocked.  “Did you say a mouse?”

I nodded, and chuckled.  “Yes, while I was exploring, there was a small grey mouse.  I followed it around through a library, I think.  I remember wondering what it ate, where it lived.”

“Pandemonium has no mice,” he said.  “And yes, that library – The Sanctuary of Antenora is its name – is the recordkeeping district of the city.  The King keeps all his important deeds and materials there.”

“That’s why I remember it, I think.  So many books, I thought it was the most magical place I’d ever seen.  The great room with the podium.  The little animal seemed so out of place.  I don’t know, perhaps it was in someone’s luggage when we traversed the gate.”

He thought it over for a moment.  “I suppose so,” he said. 

“We returned home after a few weeks, Warmaster Voedle had kept the Spire in our absence.”

“That’s all you remember of the period?”

“Pretty much.  I recall the food was very good.”  Speaking of which, some very good smells were coming from the tavern window.

“Not really looking for that,” he said.

I smiled.  “Well, you did ask for me to tell you of my earliest memories.”

“I suppose I did.  Anything else stand out?”

“I don’t think so.  My childhood was otherwise, I should think somewhat unremarkable for a son at the back end of inheritance in Vor Kanta.  I studied weapons and magic from my father, literature and history from our Matron, strategy and planning with Voedle.”

“I always liked Voedle.” He said.

“You knew him?”

“I chose him from the Legion to be your house Warmaster, yes.  Your great-great grandfather requested a new Warmaster after his old one failed him.”

His food arrived, a steaming joint of pork with soured cabbage and mustard.  The skin was done to a perfect brown crisp.  It looked good, and I motioned for one myself.

“Kings Grace upon him, he’s been a faithful servant for us for my entire life.  Hopefully for some generations to come.  It is always difficult for me, I can never remember how old they…sorry, you are.”

“Yes, I can see that would be a problem,” he said.  “Voedle has been with your family for what, seven generations?  And his blood entered your family line at least four generations ago, yes?”

“That’s right, I think,” I said.  “I think I’m a great-great-great grandson, or something.  I think all of my family trace some kind of blood relation to him now.  Of course, it doesn’t matter that much, we all have blood of the King in us, or we wouldn’t be wearing these," I tapped my horns to emphasize my point.

“So the Sapphire Spire will pass to the eldest, yes?”

“Yes, my sister will take it after my father dies.”

“You get nothing?”  He asked this while spreading mustard upon some of the meat.

“Well, informal propriety would probably grant me a respectable residence and sufficient funds to avoid shaming the House.  But am I actually due anything?  No.”

“And so we arrive at my reason for being here.”

“Which is?”

“I wish to recruit you.  I will train you in Caer Ingrath in the city of Vor Ichaer.  You will be an officer in the Caern Jale when you complete your training.”

“Caer Ingrath…seat of command.  You didn’t even ask if I wished to join the Caern Magistra.”

“You don’t strike me as the type to spend years hunched over a desk of books.”

I shrugged.  “True enough, I suppose.”

“So, I’ve established who you are.  I wanted to be certain to whom I was speaking before we spoke.  I’ve stated my goal, and your involvement."

"You make it sound like a secret mission!  So, I am bound to ask why this is so important to you?"

Across the street, the halflings had finished unloading the milk cans, and pulled the cart past us.  Their collars were dark leather, and their harnesses were of a similar make.  One glanced at us as they jogged past pulling the wagon, the others simply kept their heads down.  Their harnesses jingled gently, the rings of steel clinking upon one another where they were not chained to the wooden wagon.

"I have a…strange question.”

I shrugged.  “It is?”

“Are you are aware of any omen surrounding your birth?"

“Um, no?”  I thought about it for a while. 

“Really?”

“Torior doesn’t look kindly upon fairy tales,” I said.  My father.

“I’m not asking what he believes, I’m asking you.”

“Seems to me to be foolish to scry a future you are bound to change even if you get a properly recognizable answer,” I said.

“That sounds like your father,” he replied. 

“But it seems true to me, regardless.  I don't really believe in omens. Divinations are little more than spit in the breeze - if you pay attention to the wind, you already know where it will land, there's no point in fouling the air."

"Such contempt, and yet such divinations are why I seek you out."

"Then perhaps you have had better quality diviners than I have had, since the ones I have had experience with were no better than charlatans hiding their lack of any other meaningful talent." I finished my coffee and set the empty cup back on the table. 

He smiled thinly.  “I understand you give little credence to prophecy.  Have you heard the saying that prophecy are to the gods as tracks are to game?”

“I haven’t.”

“It means that the actions of the gods leave hints in the universe for the sensitive to detect.  Much as depressions in the ground can instruct the wary as to what animal has passed here, the hints of prophecy are hints to the passage of the gods.  Their footsteps in the past and future leave clues for the prophet to detect and interpret.”

“An interesting theory.  How is this appropriate to me and this omen you refer to?”

"The omen under which you were born was rather...unique. And very specific."

"Will you do me the honor of telling me about it?"

"Of course, but all things in their time." He paused to pull the large bones on his plate apart and raised one with a nod, roast pork hanging from it. 

"Good meat. You choose your locations well." He nodded while waving the bone slowly.  He then stuck half of it in his mouth and with a loud crunch bit roughly through the bone and mascerated it calmly.  The sound must have deafened him, I could hear it across the table.

"I choose more for the company than the food, but yes, that's been an added benefit," I smiled as the bar-maid – Meshanta was her name – took my empty cup and dropped off coffee.  She hit me playfully in the shoulder when she heard me say that.

“Your food will be out shortly,” she said quietly, then bowed to my guest and left.

Yes, she and I both knew there was more than just balance in a tail.

"So, sir, what is there which needs an inexperienced, spoiled child of an aristocrat in our military?" I leaned back in my chair and smiled, sipping slowly at the blackness in my mug as my mind raced.

“As I said.  I wish to recruit you. Service. Yours to me."

"Service?"

"Yes, to me."

"I caught that part. I am asking what kind of service."

"Military.  I will see you trained, so you will be a well-trained spoiled child."  He returned my smile.

“Thus the Caer Ingrath, I understand.” 

“It’s time to discuss the real reason behind this.  Omen."

I tilted my head. "This must be some omen, to bring you here.  Are you sure you aren’t looking for my older sister, Ambria?"  Ambria was always reading stones or bones.

"Ambria is in the service of the sixth Regiment already, as you probably know.  I am here today for you.”  Arnd looked over at me, still holding a fragmented bone bared of its flesh.

“I still don’t understand this, why you need me.”

He dropped the bone onto the plate.  "Understand it is not to brag to you, but to simply offer perspective, when I tell you that Voedle has been my creature since I created him from the soul of a merchant, seven hundred years before he contracted service to your family, some two centuries ago." As he said this, Arnd's hair faded from view as if it had never been, and a flash of blue oil-flame crawled up from the base of his collar to dance in a widow's peak on his forehead. Almost as quickly, the flames vanished and the hair reappeared.

My heart sped at a rather undignified rate for a few moments. "You certainly have my attention. I still fail to see how I deserve such notice, however."

"Things come to pass for reasons even we of the Legion cannot say. I have reasonable certainty in the divinations given me that you will be a valuable addition to my army's strength."

"Which army do you refer to?  Voruscan?  Or the army under your command among the Legions?"

"Certainly that of the Empire of Voruscis. Depending on whether the predictions show themselves to be true, then perhaps both."

"Exactly what did this prediction say of me?"

"Exactitudes are not part of divinations, I'm afraid."

"I thought you said it was precise?  Can you tell me anything of it?"

The fiend took another piece of meat from his plate, crunching the bone loudly with his eyes closed, smiling at the taste and feel of it.  He frowned slightly.  "It specified you by the date of your birth, the location of it, the family to which you were born, and your blood heritage."

"So, it identifies me, or at least someone very like me. But prophecy is nothing without an effect. It predicts me, but what about me? Am I to die early, live forever, bring down the Arrallian Empire single-handedly?" I couldn't help but smile at the thought of the cryptic medium reading tea leaves for this great Infernal.

And great he must have been, to have been the creator of our Warmaster.  Only senior members of the Legion could create or elevate new fiends of Voedle’s caliber.  That would make this one powerful, and one of the senior members of our Empire’s officer corps. 

“Wait.  Your name is not Arnd, is it?”

He set what was left of the bone down.  “No, it is not.”

“So?”

“I gave you a name that would mean nothing if I was not certain you were going to join me.”

“Are you certain now?”

“My name is Balenor.” He paused for a moment.  “Does that mean anything to you?”

Holy hells.  The Arch Liaison.  Right hand of the King, Warmaster of the Voruscan Emperor.  I drank more coffee simply to wet my tongue and to give me time to think. 

He said, “Yes, I think you do see now.”

Well, I certainly felt a little smaller.  Maybe I should not have frustrated him with so many questions.  He politely waited for me to calm a bit. 

“Why is this omen important to you?”

"You bear your name because of it."

"I don't understand. What?"

"Torior chose your name - Azrael - because of this omen. You know of the origin of your name, do you not?"

I smiled a little.  "Yes, Azrael, angel of death, the one responsible for seeing souls into the queue for the Morrigan to pass judgment upon. I thought he simply had a morbid fascination to name me after such."

"Close enough that I need not correct you. Your naming was not inspired by a fascination with the angel, though. It was with its role. The prophecy said that the one born would one day have a hand in the passing of many multitudes of the dead, and the destiny of a great king. It is hard to put the thing into words, as prophecy rarely lends itself to linguistic clarity." Now Balenor was gazing over at me idly, gauging my reaction, I think.

He looked directly at me.  “He thought the line meant you would one day be Emperor.”

I laughed out loud.  “I’m so sorry, excuse me.  Me?  Do you know how far away from the throne I am?  What manner of disaster would have to occur to the empire for me to be selected for the throne?  Forgive me for the impertinence, I understand your station, but doesn’t that strike you as a bit…far-reaching?”

He smiled as well.  “Yes, perhaps that’s a stretch.  I suspect more likely it means that you will end up winning a war against another kingdom, bringing its lands into the Empire.”

"That is interesting." I stared up at the skyline. “But it seems to me that it goes an awfully long way to stroke my ego, when that isn’t necessary.  There’s no way I’m going to manage that.  I’m only one man.”

"One untrained man.  A trained officer can make all the difference in a war.  I suspect that this is how the prophecy will come to pass. If you are to have a hand in the passing of a great many, I would be profited greatly in seeing to it that your hand was around the throats of your Empire's enemies – the felling of a kingdom and its king would be another great victory for the Empire.  And as a result, a benefit to me."

"I suppose, but the prophecy was not so explicit, was it? I could just as easily be responsible for a great defeat that brings a great many of our own champions to their graves."

"Perhaps I believe that destiny can be guided - that the overarching fate that awaits us all can be divined, but that the details of that fate can be, shall we say, 'tuned' by intent."

"So you think that in your service, my intent toward your success will result in my destiny playing out in a great victory for you?"

"I not only believe it, I am certain of it."

"How can you be?"

"I am not of this world. I can be certain of a great many things. While I may be mistaken on some of them, on this I do not think I am."

I looked from his face out at the street, where people were walking about on their business.  Other individual slaves jogged by upon their masters’ errands, their status marked clearly upon their faces.  They mixed freely among freemen and even Shadrim who strolled upon the street.  I caught a whiff occasionally of the brewery some blocks away.  I didn’t know it at the time, but it was a point of pride to me that our cities were not open sewers like those some of the slave races came from. 

"That is not an answer."

"You should know by now that my kind rarely gives full answer to any question."

"Touché."

Balenor smiled.  “You were already contemplating joining the Caern Jale.”

I nodded slowly.  “Yes, that’s true.  I will ask a different way, were you aware of my endorsements from Voedle and Torior?”

The fiend grinned, a somewhat unsettling expression.  “Yes, I’d been waiting for them.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I have been waiting for several years for you to mature, so that we might have this conversation.”

I had forgotten that the immortal nature of the fiends often inspired great patience in their senior members. 

I slitted my eyes, and scratched the base of my left horn. "Suppose such a happenstance is not what it means at all, but that someday I shall become an Exarch to the Black Queen, instead?  The Morrigan is, after all, a major player among the altars at which we pay our homage."

"Then I shall surely benefit by having your service as a member of my troops for however long you remain, and further by having a connection close to the Lady Death herself."

I said nothing for a moment. "I note you did not say 'ally'."

"I would not presume to know the future." Balenor's smile became a smirk.  “And as far as anyone is aware, she has no allies.”

"Ironic, given your reasons for being here.”  I looked back from the street.  “So...you seem to have thought this out rather thoroughly."

"I have no other way.  I did not attain my station with short-sightedness."

"Then let us talk about what it might mean for me."

"As in what would be the benefits to you of this choice?"

"Yes, precisely.  I’ve also considered opening my own distillery, or perhaps take what money I do have and construct a winery."

"I see.  I am prepared to enter you directly into training as an officer, with a commission awaiting your successful completion of initial training. Payment appropriate to your rank, on a monthly basis, including a place in the queue for you and any soldiers under your command to have looting rights and battlefield trophies. You will be clothed at my expense in a uniform I determine, and your initial weapons and equipment will be provided by the Empire."

"Land? Title?"

"On completion of your committed tour, you shall be granted land appropriate to your status and success. I can make no commitment now as neither of us knows the distance you will cover, but you will have my word that it shall be so. Your name already grants you title, but if you achieve rank of Captain I will grant you appropriate lands as is my right by contract, and I shall petition for a greater title if that is called for.  Potentially you may also advance in title if you distinguish yourself to the honor of the Emperor."

"Much of that has dependency on other agency."

"You'll find almost all things in life do. Even the barbarians of the Northlands recognize the interrelatedness of the fates of individuals. Given what Voedle has said about your command of Arcana and History I have few doubts that you will exceed common expectation."

This fiend was a direct line between our Emperor and the Legions of Hell themselves.  This was far greater than I was expecting – and the opportunity of a lifetime.  How my father saw to arrange this I could not tell.  I’d also played this hand as far as I was willing.  I didn’t want to test his patience.

"This is much to think about. All this over an omen."

"The omen only caused me to seek you out.  Treat it as a common term of service.  I can see that you are of good material. You are Shadrim, as well, which I consider a trait of value. No common human, without a hint of the blood, would have drawn such attention, prophecy or not. You represent a useful commodity to me. If you prove your worth, I will reward it. It is as simple as that." The smile was gone now, Balenor's face was completely serious.

"This is no small decision to make, sir."

"I would not expect it to be. But among your alternatives, I believe it to be the best.  You may always put your winery or distillery plan into play after your realize the gains of your service with me."

"That’s true…so you think military service is the best answer, do you?"

"Without hesitation. We have only discussed the direct implications of the military benefits. We haven't even begun to discuss the intangibles."

I raised an eyebrow - on an elf it would have been far more dramatic, since a Shadrim cannot raise it further than the base of his horn. "Hmm...Such as?"

"Association with the Legion, for one thing. Serve me well, and I will remember. Through me, you meet others. Opportunities abound among my kind for an enterprising officer. I don't expect you will always be a member of the Empire's army, even if you take a career path within it. I am always looking to augment my own Legions with good talent. Depending on how you perform for your Empire, you might find service with me."

"I see."

"Know that I offer you nothing unusual relative to others of similar station. This choice is a beneficial one regardless."

"I understand. What would our relationship be in the military?"

"I would not be your commanding officer, unless and until you reach rank of Captain or higher, but your commander would likely serve me directly, or with perhaps one layer of rank between us."

"I would like to see the entirety of the offer in writing, of course."

"Of course. I shall have a courier bring you the contract this afternoon. If you decide to proceed, you may report to Caer Ingrath with the document and sign it there."

"One more question, if I may?"

"Ask away."

"How much longer are you bound to the Empire?"

He didn’t bat an eye.  "One hundred fifty-one years, six months, seventeen days, seventeen hours, and thirty-seven minutes, or until the King commands otherwise."

"That was rather exact!"

"It rarely pays to be otherwise when one can, don't you think?" With that, he deposited three coins on the table, stood, nodded, and walked away.

A few moments later Meshanta came out to clear the table. "Who was that?"

"An officer from the army.  A very senior one."

"They sent an officer from the army to try to get you to join? That's different." She looked puzzled.

"He came of his own accord."

"Strange." She walked back inside, carrying the plates and cups.

I nodded. 

As the clatter of the dishes being cleaned echoed out to me on the street, I looked up at the top of the tower.

"Strange indeed," I muttered.

My mind was made up before the papers arrived.