The Autumn Republic

“It belonged to Charlemund,” Tamas said. “He was more concerned with opulence than with good taste. At least his damned bust isn’t here staring me in the face anymore.”

“You broke it, sir.”

“Ah. That’s right. Come on.”

They left the foyer and took a right, heading down one of the great hallways toward the kitchen per Adamat’s instructions. As they drew closer, Tamas could hear a distinct humming and felt his step quicken involuntarily. They reached the end of the hall and he gestured for Olem to wait for him, then stepped inside.

Unlike the rest of the empty manor, the kitchen was full of warmth and light. Two of the ovens burned brightly, and Tamas was hit by the smell of warm bread, roasting mutton, and squash soup. His mouth watered and his fingers twitched in anticipation.

The main baking table was clean at one end and set with silver tableware for two.

“Good morning, Field Marshal.”

It was a shock to see Charlemund in a chef’s apron, white hat on his head, and for a moment Tamas reached for his sword. Charlemund had put on at least two stone since Tamas had shot the Arch-Diocel in the gut and then thrown him under guard until he could figure out what to do with him. His face was broader, and he wore a grin that Tamas had never seen on Charlemund before.

He let his hand fall away from his sword. “It’s really you? Mihali?”

“Mihali is dead.” The grin faltered for a moment. “Unfortunate to say. I am Adom, in my purest form.” He looked down at himself. “Well, I never looked quite like this. I’ll admit that Charlemund was a little handsomer than me, in my original body.”

“How?” Tamas asked.

Adom tugged at the strings of his apron and swept it to one side. “Come! Break bread with me. I can hear your stomach from here and I haven’t eaten in at least a couple of hours.”

There were no chairs, and the table was too high for them anyway, so Tamas stood opposite Adom while the god ladled him a bowl of squash soup. A few minutes later, Tamas was asking for another, which Adom happily supplied, before serving the main meal of mutton, sliced thin on toasted bread.

“Your son,” Adom finally said, breaking the silence.

Tamas stopped chewing for a moment, having forgotten he’d even asked a question. “What about him?”

“After he shot Kresimir, the counterstroke almost killed him. It would have killed anyone else instantly, but Ka-poel’s wards were tight enough to block even Kresimir’s fury. It put him right on the brink, and even I couldn’t bring him back. But that darling girl.” Adom shook his head. “I’ve never seen anyone learn so quickly. Not even Kresimir himself.”

“What does that have to do with you?”

“I’m getting there. She figured out that Taniel’s coma would require a life. So she took Charlemund’s. She stripped his essence from him, leaving his body nothing more than a husk.”

“That’s terrifying.”

“Yes. Yes it is, and I have lived hundreds of lives over thousands of years. I know terrifying.”

“But how do you know all this?”

“She told me. While you were in Kez.”

“She can’t speak.”

“She’s a very good communicator. Anyway, I stole the body, and when Kresimir killed Mihali, I transferred myself into it.” He slapped his belly happily. “It was a crude transfer. I usually put myself into a brand-new vessel, an infant still growing inside a mother’s womb, one that might otherwise be stillborn. But this method worked just as well!”

Tamas looked down at his meal to find it almost gone. He reached for the platter between them, but Adom was faster, slicing off several pieces of mutton and depositing them on Tamas’s plate.

“Why didn’t you come back?” Tamas asked.

Adom chuckled. “Well, I’m in the body of the most hated public figure in Adro, so that would have been inconvenient.”

“Brude,” Tamas said.

Adom sobered. “Brude,” he confirmed.

“Did you know he was involved?”

“I didn’t. Not until after Kresimir killed me. There is an instant, flashing between consciousnesses, that I am more aware than when inside a body. That’s when I felt his influence. It explains a lot, really. Him trying to keep Mihali under wraps at the asylum, for one thing. He wanted to keep an eye on me. Keep me out of the way.” Adom scowled.

Tamas leaned forward. “What does he want? He claims-”

“I know what he claims,” Adom said, waving his hand. “I’ve seen that much. But whether he’s telling the truth, I can’t tell you.”

“You’re not a lot of help.”

Adom let out a booming laugh at that, and Tamas found himself grinning. That laugh was all Mihali.

“Brude. Brude, Brude, Brude.” Adom shook his head, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes. “He’s the youngest of us, you know. A prankster. He had the ambition to match Kresimir, but he lived in Kresimir’s shadow. He bickered with everyone. Even the two of us had our quarrels, though none as serious as he had with the others.” Adom popped a bit of bread into his mouth. “I can’t pierce the veil he’s raised around himself, but I can tell you that he’s now far more powerful than he ever was in Kresimir’s time. That scares me.”