Kotan seemed like a blur after the departure of Sweet Mask and Alus from the city. As expected, Piso’s seal worked wonders when they have to cross the checkpoints between Kamui’s extreme north and Aramathi. Then again, to make it more believable, Sweet Mask had to act like a prisoner, which he took on well for the sake of reaching Aramathi as safely and as hastily as possible. Besides, Alus definitely felt he was more of a prisoner than Sweet Mask, because he was obligated to do the favor. However, when they entered Aramathi, Alus abruptly halted the chariot.

“Why did you stop, Alus?”, the masked man asked with some irritation, “We’ve no time to waste.”

“I know,” Alus calmly replied, “But where in Aramathi should we separate ways?”

“I see. I was planning to go straight to Pasco, but when you brought it up, I realized it’d be hard for you to keep the ruse.”

Pasco is the capital of Aramathi.

“I didn’t really think that far…”

“No, you’re right. I’d be good in the outskirts of the city.”

“If you say so.”

With a crack of the whip, the horses return to action and pull the chariot once more. Unlike Kamui with its high-rise buildings, large-scale establishments, and enormous markets, Aramathi’s landscape outside its capital sprawls with small villages, farms, and barns. The roads begin to get bumpy, and some checkpoints are not even guarded nor maintained. Days passed before they reached Pasco’s suburbs, which only differed from the border in the size of its population. If Kotan’s slums are already dismal, Pasco’s are beyond comparison.

As they entered the outskirts, there is already an uneasy feel that is not felt even in Dalreida’s nor Kotan’s peripheries. While the suburbs are not deserted, and people seem to do their normal business, it was as if eyes are watching and ears are listening to their every step, likely because they looked foreign, but it may also be connected with their severe poverty. Virtually none can afford a chariot, and horses are better off as food to live for another day.

“Is Aramathi still part of Dalreida?”, Alus can only remark in a controlled manner, wary that he might offend if a local heard him.

Sweet Mask answered with a weak voice, “The situation in Aramathi deteriorated after Piso’s service here, but even when he became dictator, little has been done to reverse this.”

“How low has the republic gone? I can’t believe…”

“This is reality, Alus. If you deserted Piso because of what you’ve witnessed in the capital, this would reinforce your decision. But…”

“Yes?”

“Alus, you’ve done enough for me already. I can take it from here. Go into the city before the day ends if you don’t want to get mobbed. Tomorrow, take the main road towards Bayan. Go straight, don’t look back. And then, live the life you’ve always wanted.”

“Are you sure?”

“Sure I am. I have less allies here than in Kamui. I can’t assure you any protection. Now, go.”

Sweet Mask immediately jumped from the chariot, and slapped the two horses, causing them to be agitated enough to rush the chariot away from the area. He can only hear Alus’s voice from a distance, but his words are no longer recognizable. From there, Sweet Mask ran away as well, seeking the nearest refuge to begin his operations in Aramathi.

Fortunately for Alus, the road they were taking goes straight to Pasco. When he regained control of the chariot, he was about to crash into a traffic jam at the city gate. It appears that security is tighter in the capital than in the rest of the province as guards thoroughly check every vehicle and person entering. When it was his turn to present his papers, he used again Piso’s seal in an attempt to smoothen the process.

However, when the guards saw the seal, they expressed more astonishment than respect. They referred the case to their head, who seemed just as wide-eyed as his subordinates. The head guard then descended from the gate’s tower to speak with Alus.

“Alright, carry on with your work,” the head guard announced, “I’d take care of this personally.”

“Yes, sir!”, the guards saluted and returned to their posts at the gate.

Meanwhile, the head guard escorted Alus some paces away from the gate. As they walked, Alus can faintly hear that the former also wore a similar scale armor such as his.

“I’m extremely sorry, my lord,” the head guard said as he forcibly shook Alus’s hand, “Are you here for official business in Pasco?”

Alus is quite certain that the head guard has a higher rank than him, at least a captain. When he quickly scanned the guard’s uniform, it seems he is a colonel, which actually ranks higher than that of a captain. However, he figured that it must have been the impact of Piso’s seal. Thus, he tried to look more confident and act as if in a position of power.

“Why, yes,” Alus said as he removed the head guard’s hand, “I’m from the capital and…”

“Oh, is that so, my lord? I understand. Let me arrange a suitable escort for you!”

“N-no, I don’t think…”

“I insist, my lord. As you may know, traffic in the city is unthinkable!”

He opened his mouth to signify his hesitation, but the head guard has already called four more chariots to accompany him. With the head guard taking over his chariot, Alus has been relegated to a status of spectator. As they slowly traversed the city, a number of people came out to see what the escorts are all about. Nonetheless, their reactions were mixed, with some cheering while others jeering. Yet another group of people were silently looking on. Whether or not they knew of his perceived function, Alus left it unexplored.

“Lord Alus, I thought you’d never come in Aramathi,” the head guard spoke as if attempting to impress, “Pasco City is the Pride of the East. It grew from a small settlement founded during Piso’s governorship, and the economy has been progressing after peace has been achieved in this province. As you can see…”

The head guard’s words soon became babbling to Alus’s ears. For the first time in his life, he was given an executive treatment. He is not the one escorting a superior, he is the one being escorted. Regardless of the people’s impressions, never has it occurred to him that he would even be surrounded by spectators who would watch his entry.

He savored the smell, the sight, the sound, the feel of being welcomed to a city. Even in a smaller scale, he has experienced for himself the triumphal marches which frequented Dalreida in the past decades. Before he knew it, they have arrived at the Governor’s Palace. It commanded great influence over the city, not only because of its symbolic or practical functions, but also for its unbelievable size. It was the only high-rise edifice one could see in the whole of Pasco.

Unlike the Dictator’s Palace, which compensates for height the lack of land in the capital, the Governor’s Palace had the luxury of incorporating wide spaces around it, most of which are devoted to gardens, statues, sculptures, chariots, and other spectacular displays of wealth. The palace also had towers and spires on its four corners, extending upwards to pierce the skies. If this is the only indicator to be considered, it would not be thought that Aramathi was an economically poor province at all.

“W-wait,” Alus demanded, “I thought you’re bringing me to a hotel or something?”

“Hotel? No, my lord,” the head guard responded, “This is the safest place where you could be!”

After disembarking from the chariots, the guards formed two lines across each other to welcome him. The head guard opened the chariot for Alus, and then saluted at him. Before Alus can react, the governor slammed open the palace doors and rushed towards him. The governor held and kissed his hand, a custom in Aramathi which meant utmost respect.

“Lord Exquisitor, the name’s Horden” the governor said as he led Alus inside, “Please forgive my men. The heat must be getting on them because summer arrives earlier here than in Dalreida.”

“Exquisitor? Me?”

The Exquisitor is a special position created by the republican government to check and balance the provinces, albeit their ranking and tasks differ depending on the necessity and the existing laws. Then again, since their main job is to look into a local governor’s or representative’s state of affairs, a provision which the Assembly super majority has struggled to remove, or at least amend, throughout the years, it is said that exquisitors have the highest mortality rate among major government positions.

An exquisite statistic for seemingly tiring and thankless work.

Yet, Alus appears to have been confused with the actual exquisitor assigned for Aramathi, especially because he did not receive a similar welcome when he entered Kamui even with Piso’s seal.

“Why, of course, my lord. I have been informed of your arrival weeks ago, but some trouble in the border might have delayed your arrival, no?”

“Ah… right you are, Governor Horden.”

“What should I punish my men with, Lord Exquisitor?”

Still having a baffled face, Alus replied, “W-what? No, governor. Your men are good in my book. If the heat’s getting them down, let them off some steam.”

Horden was visibly irked for being unable to chastise his troops, but the frightened soldiers relaxed as they heard Alus’s apparent pardon of their perceived inefficiency.

“Y-yes, my lord…,” Horden said with a tight smile, “Please, grace my humble abode.”

The hallways almost resembled that of the Dictator’s Palace, except that the Governor’s Palace have more ornate designs, some of which are distinctly Aramathian, and more statues that represent not only the three gods of Dalreida, but the governors of Aramathi.

Also unlike the Dictator’s Palace, fine carpets have covered the marble floors of the Governor’s Palace. Horden himself was richly dressed with a toga worn over another toga, rings in all of his fingers, shoes studded with jewels, and a crown of gold. He is the personification of the place he resides in. However, one particular display caught Alus’s attention. It was an empty pedestal.

“Governor, your place looks well kept,” Alus asked, “but why is this installation incomplete?”

Horden looked at the direction where Alus pointed, and when he saw it, Horden’s voice slightly changed. While stroking his beard, he said, “Lord Exquisitor, as you may have observed, this area is dedicated to Aramathi’s governors… But when Lord Piso visited once our grand city, he was taken over by rage and slashed the statue of him. Therefore, it is left unoccupied since. Or at least, that is the story handed down to me.”

“By whom?”

“My father, of course. I succeeded him as governor. Don’t you recall, my lord?”

Alus laughed, “Why, yes! I’ve no problems with your father now, haven’t I?”

A wide smile covered Horden’s face, as if he was trying to contain laughter.

“Heh. Yes, my lord. I find the story too fantastic myself. You’ve seen the size of these statues. These are even bigger than those in Dalreida! I simply can’t imagine any man who can cut these huge stones with bare hand strength.”

They left the hallway to enter Horden’s office, which appeared to be more of a throne room than a governor’s hall. What shook Alus more is that there was an orgy happening in the office. Men and women are already partying, which suggests that they must have been doing so for the entire day, because Alus arrived in the palace a tad before the night fell. Only a few, including the governor himself, had any clothes on. Most of the people are naked, some of which spread food on their bodies to be devoured by the others.

Wine poured down like it had unlimited supply. It is disorder at its worst. Some danced to the music, while others sang, albeit not all can synchronize with the tunes. Yet many used the rhythm for conducting intercourse with each other – heterosexual, homosexual, interspecies, name it, they are doing it, and their partners are quite interchangeable as they go, undertaking positions beyond the wildest imaginations. Even the palace staff joined the party, because they thought cleaning the place during the orgy would just exhaust them.

“G-governor!”, Alus wailed, “What is this?! Isn’t this your office?!”

Horden lightly punched Alus in the arm, and then said, “Yes, Lord Exquisitor! Isn’t it great? You’re just in time to have the Pasco Experience. Turn up the music!”

The dimly lighted hall became darker, and then lights soon differed colors as the music increased in intensity. Interestingly, the music does not come from live musicians, who themselves have also joined the orgy. It comes from the radio, which receives a transmission from the studio inside the palace grounds. The famous Pasco Party reached another level.

Someone shouted, “Hey, look! Gov’s back!”

As if given a signal, almost a dozen young women flocked Horden, all of them thinly dressed.

They said seductively, “Isn’t it about time to harden, dear Horden?”

“Just don’t forget some for Lord Exquisitor here, will you ladies?”

Horden can only bring out malicious laughter after saying so. Besides, the girls are already stripping him of his regal wear. Without paying attention to the order, the orgy forged on while they seem to even invoke it as an important religious ritual to their local gods. As for Alus himself, instead of feeling aroused or excited, which his flesh might easily dictate, he felt shock and dismay of the sight. Is it bribery for the Lord Exquisitor? Or that is really how things are being done in Pasco?

Slowly, Alus came for the door to take his leave, and he did without anyone else noticing. Not even the governor. He thought it would be better for his mission to get going than remain in the palace. As he retraced the steps he took with Horden, Alus heard footsteps coming his way. He stopped walking and prepared to draw his sword from under his cloak.

The sound is likely being made by a person in armor, but could it be an ally or an enemy? With the palace in such state, who knows if any sober person is left to defend it? Tension rose from his body as sweat began to form. He moved his fingers to check his grip, but when he took a closer look, it was a fellow soldier. With that, he returned at ease.

Wheezing, the soldier still tried to speak, “My… lord… Lord Exquisitor, sir…”

Alus grabbed the soldier by the shoulders, “Breathe first, and then calmly tell me.”

The soldier took a few deep breaths, and then said, “My lord, a coup… A coup is coming!”

“A coup? As in, now?”

Alus broke his hold of the soldier. He realized that Pasco entered a crisis as soon as his arrival.

“Yes, my lord… soldiers adhering to a cult… They’ve risen outside the city…”

“A cult… Cashera?”

“No, my lord… Rabka’s cult! They’ve the city surrounded as we speak!”

“Rabka… And so, you rushed here? Why?”

“Yes, my lord… The radio’s not working… when I tried to contact the palace from the gate…”

“Probably so. They’re having an orgy right now.”

“Not again… I implore you, Lord Exquisitor, please take command!”

At that moment, Alus realized he was actually talking to the head guard of the city gate. He did not easily recognize him because of the hallway’s darkness, which was only lighted by short candles, a situation exacerbated by the lack of windows in the palace to add some moonlight.

“I… W-what…,” Alus stuttered at the head guard’s request, “B-but… I mean, G-governor Horden… Y-your leader…”

The head guard again took a few deep breaths, kneeled on both knees, and then screamed, “Please, Lord Exquisitor!”

His voice echoed along the hallway, albeit Alus thought to himself that it only echoed in his mind. Further examination of the head guard’s expression made Alus understand where he is coming from.

There lies more into him than a sense of urgency. It is the burden of responsibility, which he himself ought to possess as someone designated for a special purpose.

Gathering courage, Alus firmly said, “Indeed, you’re right. Let’s have a move on, colonel.”

It filled the head guard with hope as he looked up to Alus, “M-my lord… Yes, Pasco is now yours to command.”

A mere lieutenant has become the commander of all military forces in a provincial capital, and incidentally, it was his master’s former command as well.

Can Alus keep up the act of being exquisitor? Who is Rabka and what is his cause? What has happened to Sweet Mask?