I am not sure whether I am allowed to post another opening, but I may shift the order of the first two sections. Here is a slightly revised version of the second section. I might then place my previous opening as a continuation of this opening.
Many thanks for all your help.
Anezka Milich sat in her room in the nurses’ quarters, reading a letter from her brother posted on the border, when she heard the menacing sound of marching boots in the corridor. The noise grew louder and Anezka wondered whether one of the nurses was about to be accused of stealing from the Imperial Palace.
The stamping ceased and then there were whispers amidst the clatter of swaying swords. Anezka knew they were Imperial Guards, and she was wondering why they would be talking outside her door when she flinched at the sharp rap on her door. The Guards, she knew, would kick away the hinges, so she hurried across the room to open the door on a forbidding scowl above a huge breastplate shimmering in the afternoon light.
“Anezka Milich?” The young nurse shivered as she recalled her last conversation with the Emperor, when he spoke of his dream about his father. Anezka’s father cautioned her to avoid the Imperial family. They were, he said, a vicious and ruthless set, who would give no more thought to ripping out her throat than plucking an apple from a tree.
“Anezka Milich?” The officer repeated his question, his voice rising towards a growl as he strode into the room.
“Yes.” Anezka could barely utter her reply as she retreated to her bed. The officer followed, his breastplate now bathing her room with a silver glow.
“Anezka Milich, you have been summoned by the High Steward of the Throne.”
The officer, she knew, would answer none of her questions, so Anezka slipped into her shoes to follow the officer and his five companions, all fully armed, into the waiting carriage. The officer who collected Anezka and brought her to the gates of the ImperialPalace was apparently not distinguished enough to accompany her to the door of the High Steward, for she was handed over to a new escort. An older and stouter man with a long grey moustache, his dark blue uniform adorned in red braid from his shoulders to his boots, led Anezka through a familiar courtyard before diverting from her usual route to walk along passages decorated with old wooden chests, large carved chairs and an array of ashen portraits of sombre old men in court dress, all holding rolls of papers decorated with wax seals. Anezka trembled as she pondered her fate before the High Steward, so she endured a slow progress through the palace because her portly companion appeared capable of no more than a gentle stroll towards the High Steward.
Finally, Anezka noticed two breast plated guards in the distance standing either side of an imposing doorway, the carved wood decorated with the Imperial crest gilded in bright silver, and she knew this was the end of her journey. The doors parted as Anezka approached to reveal a squat figure in a dark blue court coat sitting behind a wide desk of dark wood. As she drew near, Anezka saw the High Steward’s gaunt face staring at a paper before him on the table, and she noticed how intently he appeared to study every word on the page. The guide halted at the door with a stamp of his boots on the polished tiles and the High Steward looked up to gaze at Anezka before a nod sent the officer away and the young nurse passed alone into the room. She bowed.
The High Steward rose from his seat as the door closed to announce that the Emperor no longer wished to be treated by a collection of nurses, but required only one attendant, who was to remain in the Hall of Glory at all times. The Lord of the Land, the Sea and the Sky chose Anezka as his companion.
“I am not worthy, your Eminence,” Anezka replied, her answer delivered with another bow.
“Let the Emperor be the judge of your worth, my child.” The Steward smiled as he noted her unease. “Do not worry. We all know that Our Guardian is dying. You are not expected to save him. He wants … a peaceful end.” The Steward closed the file on his desk and sighed, offering the young nurse a feeble smile. “The world is about to be transformed, Nurse Milich. I know no one, other than Princess Xeniya, who remembers the Empire before the coronation of Our Guardian. He is like Elista.” The High Steward turned to the window, but the planet was hidden by the sunlight. “He has always been with us. Now we are about to lose him.” The High Steward left his chair and moved around his imposing table. “You are familiar with a patient’s final moments. I believe that, for Our Guardian, they may be a … desperate experience. I … I …” The High Steward bowed his head, and there was a moment of silence before Anezka heard a muffled gasp. “Do not let him suffer.” The voice was no louder than a whisper.
“I will not fail my Emperor,” Anezka promised.
“No, my child. I don’t think you will. The Emperor has chosen well.” She answered with another bow. “Collect all you will need, and be at the Southern Door at seven thirty tonight. You will go to the Hall of the Gods to be cleansed by the Deacon. He is expecting you.”
Anezka left the High Steward’s office, disturbed by the thought that she alone would nurse the Emperor in his final days, and visited the Bright Temple to pray to Goddess Malika, the divinity of nurses. After returning to her quarters she walked barefoot to the Hall of the Gods to spend an hour kneeling before an array of images of past emperors, each edged in golden frames glimmering from the light of one thousand candles. The capital’s Deacon, a frail cleric barely able to stand, panted his rambling prayers upon the young woman, shored by two adolescent monks who whispered the words to remind their senile charge whenever he forgot his blessing.
The dark timber of the Southern Door swallowed the mellow evening sun as Anezka stood before the mighty frames. The doors parted just for her and she stepped from sunlight into the perpetual dusk of the Hall of Glory. The doors closed behind the young nurse and Anezka walked timidly towards the Emperor’s bed, knowing that she alone would witness the final moments of the rightful ruler of the entire world, the Lord of the Land, the Sea and the Sky, the Seventh Maximillian.
Many thanks for all your help.
Anezka Milich sat in her room in the nurses’ quarters, reading a letter from her brother posted on the border, when she heard the menacing sound of marching boots in the corridor. The noise grew louder and Anezka wondered whether one of the nurses was about to be accused of stealing from the Imperial Palace.
The stamping ceased and then there were whispers amidst the clatter of swaying swords. Anezka knew they were Imperial Guards, and she was wondering why they would be talking outside her door when she flinched at the sharp rap on her door. The Guards, she knew, would kick away the hinges, so she hurried across the room to open the door on a forbidding scowl above a huge breastplate shimmering in the afternoon light.
“Anezka Milich?” The young nurse shivered as she recalled her last conversation with the Emperor, when he spoke of his dream about his father. Anezka’s father cautioned her to avoid the Imperial family. They were, he said, a vicious and ruthless set, who would give no more thought to ripping out her throat than plucking an apple from a tree.
“Anezka Milich?” The officer repeated his question, his voice rising towards a growl as he strode into the room.
“Yes.” Anezka could barely utter her reply as she retreated to her bed. The officer followed, his breastplate now bathing her room with a silver glow.
“Anezka Milich, you have been summoned by the High Steward of the Throne.”
The officer, she knew, would answer none of her questions, so Anezka slipped into her shoes to follow the officer and his five companions, all fully armed, into the waiting carriage. The officer who collected Anezka and brought her to the gates of the ImperialPalace was apparently not distinguished enough to accompany her to the door of the High Steward, for she was handed over to a new escort. An older and stouter man with a long grey moustache, his dark blue uniform adorned in red braid from his shoulders to his boots, led Anezka through a familiar courtyard before diverting from her usual route to walk along passages decorated with old wooden chests, large carved chairs and an array of ashen portraits of sombre old men in court dress, all holding rolls of papers decorated with wax seals. Anezka trembled as she pondered her fate before the High Steward, so she endured a slow progress through the palace because her portly companion appeared capable of no more than a gentle stroll towards the High Steward.
Finally, Anezka noticed two breast plated guards in the distance standing either side of an imposing doorway, the carved wood decorated with the Imperial crest gilded in bright silver, and she knew this was the end of her journey. The doors parted as Anezka approached to reveal a squat figure in a dark blue court coat sitting behind a wide desk of dark wood. As she drew near, Anezka saw the High Steward’s gaunt face staring at a paper before him on the table, and she noticed how intently he appeared to study every word on the page. The guide halted at the door with a stamp of his boots on the polished tiles and the High Steward looked up to gaze at Anezka before a nod sent the officer away and the young nurse passed alone into the room. She bowed.
The High Steward rose from his seat as the door closed to announce that the Emperor no longer wished to be treated by a collection of nurses, but required only one attendant, who was to remain in the Hall of Glory at all times. The Lord of the Land, the Sea and the Sky chose Anezka as his companion.
“I am not worthy, your Eminence,” Anezka replied, her answer delivered with another bow.
“Let the Emperor be the judge of your worth, my child.” The Steward smiled as he noted her unease. “Do not worry. We all know that Our Guardian is dying. You are not expected to save him. He wants … a peaceful end.” The Steward closed the file on his desk and sighed, offering the young nurse a feeble smile. “The world is about to be transformed, Nurse Milich. I know no one, other than Princess Xeniya, who remembers the Empire before the coronation of Our Guardian. He is like Elista.” The High Steward turned to the window, but the planet was hidden by the sunlight. “He has always been with us. Now we are about to lose him.” The High Steward left his chair and moved around his imposing table. “You are familiar with a patient’s final moments. I believe that, for Our Guardian, they may be a … desperate experience. I … I …” The High Steward bowed his head, and there was a moment of silence before Anezka heard a muffled gasp. “Do not let him suffer.” The voice was no louder than a whisper.
“I will not fail my Emperor,” Anezka promised.
“No, my child. I don’t think you will. The Emperor has chosen well.” She answered with another bow. “Collect all you will need, and be at the Southern Door at seven thirty tonight. You will go to the Hall of the Gods to be cleansed by the Deacon. He is expecting you.”
Anezka left the High Steward’s office, disturbed by the thought that she alone would nurse the Emperor in his final days, and visited the Bright Temple to pray to Goddess Malika, the divinity of nurses. After returning to her quarters she walked barefoot to the Hall of the Gods to spend an hour kneeling before an array of images of past emperors, each edged in golden frames glimmering from the light of one thousand candles. The capital’s Deacon, a frail cleric barely able to stand, panted his rambling prayers upon the young woman, shored by two adolescent monks who whispered the words to remind their senile charge whenever he forgot his blessing.
The dark timber of the Southern Door swallowed the mellow evening sun as Anezka stood before the mighty frames. The doors parted just for her and she stepped from sunlight into the perpetual dusk of the Hall of Glory. The doors closed behind the young nurse and Anezka walked timidly towards the Emperor’s bed, knowing that she alone would witness the final moments of the rightful ruler of the entire world, the Lord of the Land, the Sea and the Sky, the Seventh Maximillian.
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