Chapter 3: The Gods’ Plan (3)
Iskandel slowly straightened his posture, so subtly that his counterpart wouldn’t notice. Sitting up straighter than ever before, he made a request in a clear tone, as if he were a different person.
“Brother. What exactly were Karasvati’s orders?” Iskandel asked.
“‘What looks good tastes good, so send a delegation led by Iskandel, the best-looking man on the continent.’ That is exactly what she said. She also added an order for you to participate in the tournament held in Durgtah to commemorate the Saintess’s coming-of-age, staking your honor on it,” the crown prince answered.
“Me, in a tournament? I thought I was sufficiently elevating Karasvati’s honor just by showing off my pretty face.”
The crown prince shot a sharp glare at Iskandel, who was sighing dramatically, then stated the true objective in a low voice. “Find an excuse to get out of the tournament, an upset stomach or something. Karasvati mentioned a stay of up to three months, but I want you to drag it out as long as possible and settle in. I want you to be my eyes and ears in there, quietly and for a long time.”
Forget the goddess’s honor, he wants me to be his spy? What the hell is this? Iskandel skillfully composed his momentarily faltering expression and asked, as if for confirmation, “Am I capable of accomplishing such a great task?” He spread his arms wide as if to say, look at me.
The crown prince’s gaze slowly swept over his entire body. His clothes reeked of cheap herbs, leather sandals splattered with alcohol from a brawl, and he had disheveled hair. The crown prince couldn’t help but frown at Iskandel’s attire, which was worse than that of a common ruffian. It was a pathetic sight, showing no benefit from the emperor having dressed him in only the finest tributes, but through it all, his handsome face was annoyingly perfect. He looked so much like his mother, it was a wonder how a man could look like that. He eyed his half-brother, who was more like a son in age, and spoke in an even more displeased tone.
“I do not trust you, but I trust the Kanad blood that fills half your body. Even if you are capable of nothing, you should at least be able to lay the groundwork inside. So that I can leave my name as the first emperor to conquer that impregnable fortress city.”
Instead of answering, Iskandel lowered his eyes and stared at his toes. To leave the capital and put down roots in a remote fortress city… it was essentially a punishment. But he was certain this was an opportunity that would never come again. It was a chance to escape the goddamn imperial palace, where he was allowed to do nothing but waste his life. And at the same time, a chance to magnificently ruin the aspirations of the brother who had ignored him his entire life.
“Well… alright. Go ahead and trust me with it,” Iskandel assured.
The crown prince’s lips twisted at the answer coming far too easily. As sincere greed flickered behind the contempt in his brother’s eyes, Iskandel’s unenthusiastic heart slowly tilted toward mischief.
If I take what he wants… things will get interesting.
Having organized his thoughts, Iskandel looked straight at the crown prince with eyes that were clear, belying a man soaked in alcohol and herbs. “I will do my best and return.”
At his confident reply, the crown prince’s eyes, filled with ridicule, traveled from the top of Iskandel’s head to his toes and said, “You misunderstood. I do not expect you to return alive. A good spy seals his lips with death before his master’s identity is revealed.”
“Oh, you’re being disheartening again. Even if I die in Durgtah, the attention showered on me won’t transfer to you, brother.”
The crown prince fell silent, his expression unreadable.
“You need me alive so you can use my name to enjoy yourself with the goddesses, just as you’ve been doing recently.” Iskandel shrugged, calmly meeting the gaze of the crown prince, who looked like he wanted to strangle him. “I know you invite the goddesses by telling them you’ve prepared a place for the four of you to ascend to the top of the temple. And since I know you gag at the mere sight of my face, I’ve been tactfully late. But it’s a bit disheartening when you say things like that.”
While bantering with a loose tone, slightly dazed from all the vices, Iskandel was calculating his own gains and losses. If I say this, he will do whatever it takes to make sure I don’t come back. He’ll plant a real spy in the delegation to watch and kill me. I’ll pretend not to know, and as soon as I figure out who the real spy is, I’ll offer up his head and get myself a position in Durgtah.
It wasn’t a bad future. Feeling like he wanted to leave this instant, Iskandel smiled brightly at his much older half-brother. The middle-aged man, who had gone pale at an insult the likes of which he had never heard before, couldn’t even get angry for the sake of his pride. He simply glared back, clenching his jaw.
“If you just retract the order to die, I will show you more satisfactory results than any spy you have ever employed. Please write a letter to Durgtah at once,” Iskandel promised.
The crown prince raised his left eyebrow. Iskandel listed his demands more specifically.
“‘I heard from Karasvati. It is welcome news. Your enthronement and the Saintess’s coming-of-age ceremony are symbols of a new era, so from now on, I will send the son the emperor loves most to put the past behind us and move toward a closer relationship than ever before’… something along those lines.”
“Hmm,” the crown prince deliberated.
“Even though they requested the cultural exchange first, they will be wary and suspicious when the delegation arrives. So, to avoid suspicion, I will carefully select the delegation with only loose characters who suit me. Men who look decent enough but exude an indelible smell of burnt herbs. Lazy, listless men who would never be suspected of being spies.” Iskandel paused to gauge the other’s reaction. The crown prince just tilted his chin arrogantly as if to say, go on. “All you have to do is write one letter. Since Durgtah first requested this of Lady Karasvati, they’re not likely to refuse. What are you hesitating for?”
“And after you get into Durgtah? How do you plan to contact me?”
Iskandel answered, “I will send a carrier falcon with a letter disguised as a personal note. If I describe the internal structure, food situation, and vulnerabilities in detail as if I’m just sharing my daily life, they won’t suspect a thing.”
“I wonder.”
“I will use a great deal of metaphor and allusion. Since all the friends I associate with are of that sort, I, too, am quite skilled at useless ostentation.”
The crown prince, who had been studying him with narrowed eyes, finally gave a barely perceptible nod. Iskandel nodded back, feigning concern.
“There won’t be a problem on my end… but I’m a little concerned that it might be quite troublesome for you to interpret, brother.”
“That’s why I pay scholars a salary. Don’t worry about that part, just report frequently,” the crown prince demanded.
Iskandel smiled brightly and nodded. To think that the next emperor was a man who couldn’t even catch the insinuation that he was a bastard who wouldn’t understand a coded message. The future of the empire was clear as day.
* * *
“You’ve come, Karasvati!”
“Yes, Hashana. I’ve told the crown prince all about the delegation you requested. An official reply should arrive soon. I’ve also thrown in a very handsome young man, perfect for commemorating the first night of your coming-of-age ceremony. That’s a gift from me.”
“Really?”
“Yes. No need to thank me, just bring me that alcohol you made with Enimu as quickly as possible. Rsanda was bragging about it so much. I’ve been dying to try it.”
Hashana, who had been welcoming her guest with a bright face, couldn’t give a straightforward answer and just kept smiling sweetly. She knew from experience that drinking parties between Karasvati and Rsanda always ended in a fight.
As if she could see right through Hashana’s intention to offer Enimu juice instead of alcohol, Karasvati tilted her head and ordered her to leave, “You are the saintess of war created by the god of war, not a nanny who restrains the gods’ drinking parties. Hurry up and bring the alcohol.”
Hashana, who had been trying to hold her ground, reluctantly bowed politely and retreated. Pointing at the quickly receding Hashana with the tip of her foot, Karasvati grumbled disapprovingly, “I’ve said it before, but… Rsanda, you’re too soft on your creation.”
Rsanda, who had been standing with her arms crossed and a disgruntled look on her face, pouted and followed her friend’s foot with her gaze. The pretty foot was pointing to her creation, Hashana, who held all of Rsanda’s wishes. The thin, white fabric of Hashana’s clothes fluttered like a butterfly as she moved with healthy grace. Rsanda, watching Hashana with a thoughtful expression, kicked away the foot that dared to point at her saintess and dismissed the criticism.
“I am not soft. I am tempering Hashana strictly in my own way, so stay out of my family’s business,” Rsanda stated.
“Look at this. See how you blindly take her side. You and I have been friends since the beginning of time, and you’re coddling a saintess you just created twenty years ago? Honestly, this place is full of insolent things.”
“And what about you? You came running the moment you got a letter from her.”
“The humans who warm my bed tell me that when you don’t have children of your own, your niece is the cutest thing in the world,” Karasvati replied.
It was then that the two goddesses, bickering as usual, leaned back lazily under the balcony awning. A high priest, who had entered with a cautious bow, placed a well-prepared tray of drinks on the side table between them and quietly backed away. Karasvati naturally called out to the fleeing high priest.
“What happened to the pretty Hashana? Why did a withered old human come instead?”
The priest replied, “She asked me to tell you that she will begin preparations to welcome the delegation now. She said the banquet seats at the tournament stadium need to be rearranged urgently, and she instructed me firmly to ensure that you can enjoy herself comfortably without any inconvenience.”
“She’s just making a polite excuse and running away because she knew I’d drag her into a drinking party.” Karasvati scoffed and waved her hand, dismissing the high priest. As they traded glasses, Karasvati nudged the arm of Rsanda, who still wore a heavy expression, and asked, “Aren’t you curious what exactly Hashana asked for? Shall I show you?”
Rsanda flatly responded, “No need. It’s obvious. She probably asked for my help to make Durgtah like the area around your temple as her coming-of-age gift.”
“Oh my. You knew that and still let her ask me? Knowing full well what kind of mischief I’d pull in return for granting her request?”
“My Hashana is a smart girl. She did it because she was confident you wouldn’t be so tacky as to make a fuss over a kid’s coming-of-age gift.”
The more Rsanda defended Hashana, the deeper her worries grew. Perhaps because she had kept the gates closed, hoping her creation wouldn’t be tainted by the debauched era, Hashana was too naive and upright.
