Aidan and Sebastian crouched behind a large oak, examining the crumbling wall that bisected the forest in front of them.
Gunnar and the Scout Company were concealed in the trees on both sides of the narrow track behind them. They were somewhere close to a hundred miles southwest of Paradise and probably less than a day from the foothills of the mountains.
The forest showed no signs of thinning. Occasionally, though, they glimpsed the mountain peaks ahead through a break in the canopy of leaves.
Aidan examined the structure, also crumbling, looming behind the wall. “Is this what I think it is?”
“Yes, if you think it is an old Imperial palace.” Sebastian pointed to some of the stone carvings and toppled statues near the wall’s gate.
Aidan laughed. “Do you see why I don’t like aristocrats? Who builds a palace like this in the middle of a forest?”
“An emperor who liked to hunt.” Sebastian waved an arm at the trees surrounding them. “This had to be built sometime before the Collapse. A lot of these trees would have come later, after nobody was tending the land. We need to talk to the librarian in Paradise. Maybe there is still a record of this place somewhere in the archives.”
Circling the compound took about two hours. Without cleared landscaping, the forest floor was a difficult obstacle by itself. Staying close to the walls helped because the remnant of a decorative moat slowed the forest’s encroachment. They noticed no signs of recent inhabitants.
Parts of the palace’s roof had collapsed a long time ago. Inside the wall, some of the outbuildings still had four walls and a ceiling, but the doors typically were destroyed. So most undoubtedly were filled with leaves, animal spoor, and rotting remnants of the furnishings.
“It was not totally stripped,” Sebastian observed. “Probably someone looted it once before its location faded from memory, but we could poke around a bit. See whether anything valuable remains. See whether there are any bandits or pokkirs.”
Whistling softly to summon the Scouts, Aidan exited cover, and they began to explore the site.
The courtyard and grounds behind the palace were empty. So was the palace, although both showed signs of temporary camps. Most of the outbuildings had damaged or collapsed roofs.
Inside the palace’s main door, in a large receiving room, with floors covered in black and white slabs of cracked marble, two staircases ascended to a second floor. Several broken statues and destroyed picture frames littered the floor.
Leaning against the wall near the front door, Aidan ate a handful of nuts, while pairs of the Scouts moved upstairs and forward into the main hall.
“What will you do when this is over?” Sebastian meant the war against Emperor Marcus.
Aidan shrugged. “Make your sister happy. Raise our child, maybe a few more children. Live a decent life in which I don’t look upon every stranger as a potential assassin.”
“That is a worthy dream.”
Aidan laughed. “You sound unenthused.”
“No, I mean it. That kind of life would be wonderful.”
“You could do the same, you know,” Aidan insisted. “Marry the dancer or some suitable bride chosen by your father. Make children. Enjoy your family.”
Sebastian nodded. “I could.” He was silent for a time. “I hope I will. But I want the world to remember my deeds in life.”
Aidan reached and thumped his fist against the wall behind them. “Look at this monster of a palace. Its owner must have shared your desire to be remembered. It is a foolish dead-end. The world forgets everything.”
Sighing, Sebastian stood and placed both hands against the palace. “You sound a bit like my rhetoric tutor. He used to assert that only words are permanent. But I think the problem is that this emperor settled for building palaces. If we defeat the Tiberian Empire and unify the world around our new principles, we can build a legend that will live for centuries.”
