The Great Game by H. M. Clarke

Author:H. M. Clarke [Clarke, H. M.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: H.M. Clarke
Published: 2018-11-11T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER SIX

THE EMPEROR’S PERSONAL apartments were not far from Prince Garrick’s suites. The prince now stood waiting in his father’s receiving room along with Duke Malchance, Captain Talon and some of his select personal guard. The room was opulent and lush in bold reds and gold and it was still exactly the way Garrick remembered it from his childhood. The room had not been touched since his mother had last redecorated it. Garrick was glad that at least Felian had not got her claws into this. Father was not completely under her control.

The wait was not long.

The large double doors at the far end of the room opened and a clean faced freeman that Garrick did not recognize came through it.

“The Emperor is ready to see you now,” the man said while sweeping down into a low bow.

Garrick gave the man a nod and then gave Malchance a meaningful glance. He then strode towards the door, Malchance fell in behind him and Captain Talon and his chosen men followed directly behind them.

The new room was large and spacious with a large fire roaring in the grate and plush arm chairs placed around it to get maximum warmth. Spaced around the walls were several footmen, waiting to jump to the Emperor’s every whim. The tattoos on their cheeks showed them to be Kalarthri. But Garrick’s eyes were drawn to the chair placed closest to the fire.

“Hello, my boy. Come, sit down.”

Garrick’s father patted the arm of the chair next to him as he talked and as he moved, the blanket covering him slipped to reveal old stains in the lounging robe he wore.

Garrick frowned but quickly sat in the chair offered by his father. Malchance and the others stayed where they stood. Protocol dictated that they had to remain standing in the Emperor’s presence unless told otherwise. As he made himself comfortable in the chair, Garrick noted that his father’s hair was unwashed and oily and his beard and mustaches had not been trimmed or cleaned.

“Hello father,” he said. “How are you? Ranen said that you had been feeling ill.”

“Phish,” Groudin said waving away his son’s concern with a weak wave of his hand. “I’m feeling fine. All these fusspots worrying about me falling ill. It’s damned annoying.”

“So, you haven’t been sick?”

“Just a cold, nothing more. But I haven’t seen you in a dog’s age, Garrick. Catch me up on all the news.”

“The news?”

“Yes, tell me all that has happened since you were last here.”

Garrick was suddenly thrown into confusion. Surely his father would want to talk about the war? Garrick threw a look at Malchance who gave him an imperceptible shake of his head.

Garrick turned back to his father. “I’ve seen Harada. He’s doing well.”

“Harada! You need to tell him to come and see me. I can’t remember the last time he came back home.”

“Father. He is a Wing Commander, he can’t leave his unit without his superior’s permission.”

“A prince does not need permission.”

“But Harada is not a Prince. Not anymore.

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