Chapter No. 37 Tempestivitas

Surely in vain the net is spread in the sight of any bird.

Grimsy shifted his gaze between General Alisto's gruff blustery face and Sir Vallen's sharply chiseled features. An argument had ensued concerning the military's next plans for battle and it was escalating in intensity. He hated the bickering that went on between his military leaders, but he had no choice but to listen. Like it or not, they were the experts.

"We need to draw the rebel army out into a major engagement," Alisto said, gesturing with his stubby fingered hands at imaginary foes. "These hit-and-run skirmishes are driving us to distraction."

Vallen paced back and forth like an expectant father. "Enticing them into a major engagement, as you call it, will be most difficult. We will need a pretense."

"What possible pretense will entice them to field a large army?"

Grimsy held a finger up. "How about a threat to a strategic location at the foot of the Steppe region?"

Alisto stared at him for a brief moment before offering his answer. "The only thing of strategic value in the Steppe region is the City of Arkanon."

Grimsy shook a finger at him. "Very good, general."

"No offense, my lord, but I believe that your choice of a battlefield is too obvious," Alisto said, gesturing to emphasize his deference to his emperor. "The rebels will suspect a trap."

"I disagree," Vallen said, "If we threaten to close the City of Arkanon, the rebels will have no choice but to stop us."

"We would have the advantage of first deployment," Alisto said. "The rebel dogs would be forced to face our armies with little time to position their forces."

Grimsy held his hands up. "This sounds like a great plan to me. Why don't you work out the details and we can talk about it later."

"As you wish, my lord," Alisto said, bowing.

"We will inform you when we're ready," Vallen said with a quick nod.

After Alisto and Vallen left, their emperor buried his head in his hands.

A knock.

Grimsy looked up at the door to the war room. "Enter."

Mansa made a tentative entrance, pausing to discern his emperor's mood.

"Come in," Grimsy ordered, waving.
Mansa hurried to a safe position at the opposite side of the oak table and produced a parchment. "I have the disposition of prisoners that you requested, my lord."

"Good! Good." Grimsy's eyes widened briefly before they narrowed to a focused concern. "Go on."

"You know about Tara," Mansa said. "Ladies Harra, Somak, and Shonla are being held in the former hidden prison. Timka is in the same guest wing as Tara. Master Hansa has been executed and Madam Gowen is being executed today."

Grimsy's eyebrows rose. "What?"

"She is to be cooked in oil, my lord."

"Where is this to happen?" Grimsy started to yell and then calmed to a roar.

"In the chamber pit, my lord," Mansa said quickly, his heart racing with fear.

Grimsy jumped up and rushed to the door, pausing to gesture to Mansa. "Come. We may be able to stop this abomination before it is consummated."

When Grimsy and Mansa arrived at a large chamber in the lowest level of the main dungeon, they could smell the smoke.  Gowen was already immersed up to her neck in oil, sitting in an iron tub, her neck secured in a collar attached firmly to the sides, her wrists secured in manacles bolted to the tub's sides. The tub was off to the side of a pit filled with burning coals. Two muscular, sweating guards were in the process of shoving the tub out over a grating suspended above the coals. The fire had already heated the oil up high enough to cause sweat to erupt on Gowen's haggard face.

Grimsy turned to Mansa. "Just in the nick of time. You're lucky."

Mansa blew a breath of relief before he yelled up to the two guards. "Stop!"

They turned to cast wary eyes on him.

"This is the Emperor," he said, pointing at Grimsy.

The two men stopped pushing the tub and bowed.

Gowen began to cry out, her lips twisted in a grimace and her face glistening.

"Pull that tub back away from the heat," Mansa yelled.

The two guards hurried to obey his command. When Grimsy climbed up the ladder to the platform on which the tub sat, the two guards backed away.
He knelt alongside the tub and patted Gowen on her head, slicking his hand along her wet hair. "It seems that I have arrived just in time to see you cooked, woman."

She stared at him with glazed eyes. "Please, my lord. Don't cook me. I beseech you. Have mercy on me."

He smiled, tilting his head to look squarely into her eyes. "You are not going to cook. You may have to face some other punishment, but not this." He gestured to the pit of coals.

Her eyes filled with tears and she began to sob. He patted her head again and stood up.

"Get this woman cleaned up and have her brought to me."

"Yes, my lord," one of the guards responded.

The other guard simply bowed.

Grimsy climbed back down the ladder and placed a hand on Mansa's shoulder. "See to her, and see to the other prisoners. I want no executions without my approval. Do you understand?"

"I do, my lord."

He patted his back. "Good."

Grimsy slouched on his throne with his jaw cupped in his hand. He felt drained and tired, not at all what he had expected to feel like as emperor. No wonder why his father was the way he was, full of fear and hatred for his own subjects. This was not what he wanted his reign to degenerate into. He had other plans.

Without changing his slouch, he watched Mansa shuffle quickly up and bow.

"Gowen has been cleaned up as you commanded, my lord."

Grimsy perked up. "And, she is where?"

"In the punishment chamber on the guest wing, my lord."

"I thought I told you to bring her to me."

"I'm sorry, my lord. I'll go get her."

"No." Grimsy said, holding his hand up. "I'll go see her. You can go and prepare a room for her on the guest wing."

Mansa bowed. "Yes, my lord."

Grimsy entered the punishment chamber to find Gowen standing near a pillory wearing only a sheet. Her face exhibited both fear and confusion, but she elected to simply observe his approach.

But she couldn't resist. "Why am I wearing only this sheet? Are you going to punish me?"

"No." He feigned offense. "I have no desire to punish you. I came here to make sure that you are unharmed."

Her eyes widened with surprise. "I don't . . . I think I am unharmed." She sighed. "Just a bit frazzled."

"Good. I'm happy that I was able to save you from a horrible death."

"Why, my lord? I was convicted of aiding and abetting the murder of your cousin and sentenced to slowly cook in oil. Why would you wish to save me?"

"Your conviction and sentencing occurred under my father's reign. When I took office, I decreed that all executions be nullified and all prisoners be released. For some reason, you and several others have fallen beneath the bureaucratic morass that still exists in this incompetent Empire."

"But why are you not like your father?"

The question temporarily startled Grimsy. He stared at her for several minutes before answering.

"My father hated and despised his subjects. He suspected everyone, even his closest advisors and family members, of plotting to overthrow him. The obscene and perverted justice system that prevailed under his reign was the result of his suspicions.
"I, on the other hand, love and respect my subjects. I want to see that their lives are made better because of my reign. The old justice system has been replaced by a more equitable and humane system, even though it is still flawed.
"Unfortunately, I am still striving to root out these flaws, but I am not making much progress."

"Your progress has been most fortuitous in my case, my lord." She struggled to keep the sheet halves closed. "But, what will happen to me now?"

"You will be housed in a room in the guest corridor and your needs will be provided for." He looked at hands trying to protect her modesty. "And, you will be given proper clothing."

"Thank you, my lord. I will certainly appreciate that."

He gave her a smile that oozed with amusement. "I'm sure you will." His face relaxed. "I understand that you faced inquisition."

"It was most embarrassing, my lord. All those men looking at me, and me wearing nary a stitch; I could literally feel their eyes on my flesh."

"Well," said Grimsy said as if disappointed. "They certainly couldn't have roasted you over a fire if you were clothed."

Gowen's eyes widened briefly. "It would have been most unpleasant with or without clothing, my lord."

Grimsy nodded but his eyes radiated perverse pleasure. "Yes, but without clothing you would have been more exciting, especially to a male audience."

"Why do men take pleasure in seeing such a spectacle?"

Grimsy was taken aback by her candor, but he regained his composure quickly. "It is the nature of men to take pleasure in the fusion of sex and pain, especially when it involves the fair sex."

"You answer with the truth, my lord."

He nodded again and took his leave, but he still had a smile on his face.

She, on the other hand, had a frown.