Enlightened Empire

Once the small court had restored Corco’s status as prince, he could bring his personal guards through the walls at last. Even better, he was able to make proper plans for the day. First, Fadelio would go out into the inner city to visit his father, the dead emperor’s great general Atoc, to get the testimony of someone they could believe for a change. He would also inform their allies in the traditionalist camp outside the city on what had happened the previous night.

Meanwhile, the crown prince made himself ready to worship his dead father. He cleansed his body in the baths, meditated for an hour, put on the blue funeral tunic and robes he had bought back in Porcero and wore as many silver trinkets as his fashion sense could stomach. With this, he was ready to face his maker. He made his guards carry his effects, including the small bamboo tube of water from the celestial mountain, and met up with the prime minister. When he exited his temporary quarters, the old politician stood at the entrance, ready and waiting. After a short, cold greeting they went on their way towards the Moonlight Ziggurat.

Though the ziggurat was the political center of Medala, the structure was much older than the empire itself. As far as Corco knew, it had sat in its place for as long as anyone could remember. In all that time, it had always been the center of the northern island of Sinchay, no matter who had claimed power over it. Corco marched up the square stone stairs and looked over to the rounded edges to his side. Apart from the stairs in the center, the ancient stone slabs had been rounded on the outside and then neatly fit together to crate the enormous building which resembled a beehive in shape.

"Prince Corco-" The prime minister was eager to start a conversation, but Corco interrupted theincoming excuse. He wasn’t interested in a conversation with the snake.

"The paths should have carried last night’s water well. What do you think, old man?"

A look down besides his feet revealed the grooves which were carved into the top of each individual slab, the only change the Pluritac dynasty had made to the Ziggurat after they had taken control of it some six hundred years earlier. As part of the stars-and-water-worship of the Pacha faith, the grooves were meant to catch and guide rain, like they had done during last night’s storm.

Once the procession had traveled half way up the stairs, they stepped onto the slabs and continued along the ziggurat’s side. Any further up and they would reach the great court, the Ancestral Hall and eventually the peak’s Pacha shrine, so they had to make a detour to reach the imperial tomb in the back of the structure. Around half way along their path, prime minister Chaupic made a second attempt at conversation.

"Prince, if you could-"

"Prime Minister, if you would be so kind? I will soon visit the father I have not seen in seven years and would like to focus rather than do chit chat."

As they followed the path of the rain, silence once again descended over the two men, even though they had much to say to one another. After his experience from the previous night and the farce in the small court the next morning, Corco had decided that he would rather not speak anywhere within the palace complex, not as long as there was a chance that someone might listen in. Thus, all the sounds they were left with came from their footsteps on the wet stones and from drops of water somewhere in the distance. At last, the group had rounded half the ziggurat and the imperial tomb had come into view. Or rather, the top of the tomb had, since the entire structure was built underground.

What was visible to them was an artificial pond of considerable size, which was fed into by the grooves they had followed here. Had it not rained the night before, they could have seen the tomb’s enormous, bowl-shaped roof. In comparison to the impressive water feature, the entrance itself was only a square hole in the ground, barred off with heavy iron chains. Usually, the only reason anyone would notice the entrance at all were the always present guards in its front. However, at the moment they were accompanied by their guide through the tomb: The Pachayawna, the old head priest of the Pacha faith.

Unlike the usual bluish-gray robes of the priests, the Pachayawna wore cobalt robes covered in stars above his waist and covered in waves below it. However, like most of his fellow priests, he was also very thin, had a shorn head and carried a large, empty clay pot on his back.

"Pachayawna. This mortal seeks entry to the land of the dead to meet his ancestor." After he had arrived in front of the old priest, Corco gave a deferential gesture. The old man replied in kind.

"Good, this priest will guide Prince on his journey."

After he had spoken, the priest unlocked the chains over the tomb’s entrance and led them down the revealed steps.

Since they would have to wait outside, Corco took the blessed water back from his Arcavian guards. Although he had almost died the night prior, Corco still wouldn’t be allowed to take his warriors into the tomb. After all, even though he was his father’s old servant, it was already considered unusual to let prime minister Chaupic follow along.

Thus, both Corco and Chaupic were led down into the darkness. As the prince left the light of day behind, so did he his protection. However, he was not worried about any more tricks. The tomb was usually closed off and no one should be inside. The only priest allowed into the royal tomb was the Pachayawna himself; and he would never give up his privileges. As for the possibility that the head priest might collude with Spuria or his brothers to let in an assassin? As a place of the dead, the royal tomb was already considered a part of the underworld. No mortal would come to enter the tomb for fear that any evil spirits like the immortal sea snake Hatun Supra would trick them and eat their souls. The only way to enter a Pacha tomb and be safe would be in the company of a Pacha priest.

"How often have people been visiting my father?" Corco asked the Pachayawna.

"Since the funerary rites, Emperor Titu has not received any visitors beyond his father. Elder Caelestis has so far visited once every few days to speak with his son."

"What about the rest? His concubine? His sons?" Corco asked in disbelief. How could these people be so shameless and not even keep up appearances?

"Unfortunately, it seems the living have no use for the wisdom of the dead."

As the priest kept lighting lamps on their way and led them deeper and deeper into the damp catacombs, Corco’s mood sank with their position underground. While his breathing grew heavy from the musty air, he observed the figures which the priests had carved into the stone walls over the centuries. The common motif was the deep sea. Whales, algae, sea snakes, turtles. And waves, of course. Waves everywhere.

According to the Pacha faithful, after death the spirit would have to leave the body and move downward through the deep sea, to reach the afterlife among the stars, so the choice of imagery was not surprising. It was also the reason emperors were buried at such a depth: To give them a shorter journey. In all possible ways, the emperor’s way through the depths of the sea were made as easy as possible. Their bodies would be covered in a sweet rice paste, as the journey would last so long as there was still meat on the bones of the deceased. Finally, twelve turtles, considered to be mystical guides to the afterlife, would be sacrificed as companions during the funeral. This rituals also made turtle figurines a popular present during lesser noble funerals, the idols meant to support the dead on their path ahead.

After they had lost sight of the world of the living and Corco was sure that no one would overhear them from the outside, he turned his head to the prime minister. However, the old man had already been eager before and so he was the first to speak up, his voice enhanced by the eery echo from the green stones all around them.

"This servant would like to thank Prince Corco for his support in front of the court this morning."

"The court? Who would that be?" Corco threw back a sarcastic reply. After all, Chaupic himself had been a key member of the small and grand courts for decades. He had already served under Corco’s great grandfather and still did so today, after his father had died.

"Empress Mother Spuria of course."

Chaupic’s eternally frozen smile seemed a bit weary this time, though Corco couldn’t know if the man was just acting out a different role from his usual one.

"Is that so?" the prince thus shot back in a flat voice.

"Yes. Two months after the emperor’s unfortunate death, Lady Ichilia managed to convince the ancestors to declare her Empress Mother."

"Well, she’s not ’my’ mother." Corco stopped and turned to face the man, baffled. How could any of this possibly happen? The head priest, meanwhile, waited several steps ahead to give the two opponents some space.

"At the time, Prince Corco’s warrior, a man named Quirinu, had returned to the capital and brought tale of Prince’s demise. Since the crown prince was considered dead and both remaining princes were Lady Ichilia’s children-"

"I get it, it doesn’t matter since she’d be the emperor’s mother soon. But why give her the title early? What was her excuse? Stabilize the royal family?"

"Prince Corco is wise," flattered the politician.

"Doesn’t take a genius to understand a simple power grab." Corco would never believe that Spuria, a woman he only knew as selfish, vicious and choleric, would act out of anything other then self-interest.

In response to the prince’s bile, the politician bobbed his head up and down in an exaggerated manner.

"By now, the empress mother has installed her men all throughout Pluritac Castle and is in complete control of the small court."

Only a raised eyebrow and a dry look answered Chaupic’s complaint. Corco doubted that the old politician wouldn’t also have some pieces left in play, not after decades of preparation.

"Thus, this old servant hopes Prince can understand that it was not his will to leave prince’s guards outside the castle walls. The accommodations as well had already been prepared and instructions sent from inside the empress mother’s Golden Yard."

"So you’re implying that Spuria is the one who wanted me dead?" Corco asked back in a flat tone.

In reaction, the politician looked shocked, though Corco was certain that Chaupic’s current inner state couldn’t be further from surprise.

"Oh, no. This old servant would not dare. Just that, since the emperor’s death, the empress mother has done much to guarantee Prince Pachacutec’s ascension to the silver throne. Surely it would pain her to see all her hard work wasted."

For now, Corco decided that he had humored the politician for long enough. No longer would he follow the man’s breadcrumbs through their conversation. Instead, now that he had privacy, someone in the know and a reliable witness within earshot all at once, the prince decided that it would be best if he got answers to some of his more pressing questions.

"Now that we’re talking about the emperor’s death, how did my father die exactly?"

"I am surprised that Prince would not know," Chaupic asked, another mask of shock on his face.

"I have asked around, but I’ve only heard ’natural causes’. But when has a Pluritac ever died naturally at the age of sixty?"

Now the politician looked embittered, as if he had bitten into a lemon. Corco still didn’t buy it.

"Truth be told, this servant is not entirely sure himself. Some time after Prince Amautu’s return to the capital, the emperor decided to close himself off within the Moonlight Ziggurat. At that time, the only ones with access to him were the elders of the ancestral hall, the empress mother, the princes and some close personal servants. Even his decrees to the courts would only come through his warriors. He seemed unwilling or unable to attend the court deliberations in person."

"So you’re saying that no one can tell me what happened to my father?"

"Some do, but unfortunately, this old servant can only offer rumors. After he had spent some time in isolation, the emperor brought doctors into the ziggurat, so word has it that Emperor Titu was ill. When he heard the news, Prince Amautu sent word back to the Chutwa Empire to bring the best doctor he could find over the Verduic Sea. Alas, it was to no avail and the emperor went on his final journey soon thereafter."

"Is that so?" Corco asked with the enthusiasm of a sedated sloth. Just because of an owed debt and some privacy, he had been stupid enough to believe that the old politician would tell him the truth.

"Prince should not doubt all that he hears. Truth is everywhere, though we cannot always see it." Out of nowhere, the old priest chimed in. As they had descended further and further down towards the center of the old tomb, the Pachayawna was building a trail of light behind them. In his duties, the man had acted in such silence and suretythat both of his wards had forgotten about his existence. Now that he was reminded, rather than get fooled by Chaupic some more, Corco asked the priest something he had been curious about for a while.

"Pachayawna, on my road here I have been to Mount Urquna. The grand seer there told me about that celestial prophecy. I wonder what Pachayawna thinks about it."

"If a man looks down the mountains, he can not see his brother at the bottom, no matter how good his eyes. How far from us must the stars be, compared to the height of a mountain?" Accompanied by his strange sing-song voice, the priest stared by at the musky ceiling, or maybe past it, up to the stars.

"So you think that our suffering won’t matter in the grand scheme of things? What if I said that I can make a man see down a mountain as clearly as if he stood at its foot?" Corco replied with a smile. Lenses sure were neat.

"It seems Prince has already found his path and will not need further guidance. Fortune might favor us yet."

The old priest’s wrinkles stretched back around his face to reveal a mysterious smile. Corco, on the other hand, was sure that the priest had misunderstood his joke. Silence fell over the group as everyone’s thoughts sank into their own pits.

After they had been left alone with the echo of their steps for a while, they had reached the lowest chamber of the pyramid, the gateway to the afterlife. In here, the dead would be barred up after their funerals, until only bones were left.