Blood of the Fold

The drums, however, had nothing to do with the Prelate’s death; manned by soldiers, they announced the impending arrival of the emperor.

Sister Verna met the troubled eyes of people she passed. She touched the heads of the scores who approached, seeking solace, and offered the Creator’s blessing. “I only remember kings,” she said to Warren, “not this Imperial Order. Who is this emperor?”

“His name is Jagang. Ten, maybe fifteen years ago, the Imperial Order started swallowing up the kingdoms, joining them together under its rule.” With one finger, he rubbed his temple in thought, “I spent most of by time in the vaults studying, you understand, so I’m no sure of all the details, but from what I gather, they swiftly came to dominate the Old World, joining it all under their rule. The emperor hasn’t ever caused any trouble, though. At least not way up here in Tanimura. He stays out of palace business, and expects us to stay out of his.”

“Why is he coming here?”

Warren shrugged. “I don’t know. Perhaps just to visit this part of his empire.”

With the faint first light came a gentle breeze, unusually warm for winter, that ruffled the fur of the huge beast and billowed open Richard’s black mriswith cape.