TheanswerstuckintheChancellor’sthroatashefetheEmperor’sgazeonhim.Itwasnearlyimpossibleforhimtohidehisemotionsfromtheotherman.“Rourans,YourMajesty,”hesaidatlast,thewordsbarelyawhisper.
Buttheywereloudenough.Awaveofshocksweptacrosstheroomasthescribesbegantowhisperamongthemselves.
TheEmperorignoredthem.“Wholeadsthem?”heasked.
“HecallshimselfB??riKhan,”theChancelloranswered.
“IkilledB??riKhan,”theEmperorsaid,hisvoicebeginningtosoundstrained.
“Hisson,YourMajesty.”
TheEmperorshookhishead.TheChancellorknewwhathewasthinking.Therewasnowaythatwaspossible.Howcouldachildofthemanhehadpersonallykilledmanagetoresurrectanentirearmy?HehadspentyearsworkingtomakesuretheRouranforceswouldneverriseagain.Hehadnearlylosthislifedozensoftimesandyetnowtheywereback?Heshookhisheadagain,strugglingtocontrolhisbreathing,whichwasstartingtogrowragged.“Theyweredestroyed,”hesaid,hisvoiceloud,thesoundechoingoffthewallsofthethroneroom.“Iaskagain:Howisitpossible?”
BeforetheChancellorcouldrespond,asmallvoiceroseup.Lookingoverinsurprise,theChancellorsawthatthelonesurvivorofthegarrisonattackhadgottentohisfeet.“Youmayspeak,”theChancellorsaidtotheguard.