Rise Of Empire (7 page)

“I can’t believe you couldn’t find anyone to ally with.” Alric berated Arista as he collapsed on his throne. The two were alone in the reception hall, the most ornate room in the castle. This room, the grand ballroom, the banquet hall, and the foyer were all that most people generally ever saw. Tolin the Great had built the chamber to be intimidating. The three-story ceiling was an impressive sight and the observation balcony that circled the walls provided a magnificent view of the parquet floor, inlaid with the royal falcon coat of arms. Double rows of twelve marble pillars formed a long gallery similar to that of a church, yet instead of an altar there was the dais. On seven pyramid-shaped steps sat the throne of Melengar—the only seat in the vast chamber. When they had been children, the throne had always appeared so impressive, but now, with Alric slouched in it, Arista realized it was just a gaudy chair.

“I tried,” she offered, sitting on the steps before the throne as she had once done with her father. “Everyone had already sworn allegiance to the New Empire.” Arista gave her brother the demoralizing report on her past six months of failure.

“We’re quite a pair, you and I. You’ve done little as ambassador and I nearly destroyed us with that attack across the river. Many of the nobles are being more vocal. Soon Pickering won’t be able to control the likes of Ecton.”

“I must admit I was shocked when I heard about your attack. What possessed you to do such a thing?” she asked.

“Royce and Hadrian had intercepted plans drafted by Breckton himself. He was about to launch a three-pronged
assault. I had to make a preemptive strike. I was hoping to catch the Imperialists by surprise.”

“Well, it looks like it worked out after all. It delayed their attack just long enough.”

“True, but what good will that do if we can’t find more help? What about Trent?”

“Well, they haven’t said no, but they haven’t said yes either. The church’s influence has never been strong that far north, but they also don’t have any ties to us. All they want is to be on the winning side. They’re at least willing to wait and watch. They won’t join us because they don’t think we have a chance. But if we can show them some success, they could be persuaded to side with us.”

“Don’t they realize the empire will be after them next?”

“I said that, but …”

“But what?”

“They really weren’t very amenable to what I had to say. The men of Lanksteer are brutish and backward. They respect only strength. I would have fared better if I’d beaten their king senseless.” She hesitated. “I don’t think they quite knew what to make of me.”

“I should never have sent you,” Alric said, running a hand over his face. “What was I thinking, making a woman an ambassador?”

His words felt like a slap. “I agree that I was at a disadvantage in Trent, but in the rest of the kingdoms I don’t think the fact that I am a woman—”

“A witch, then,” Alric said, lashing out. “Even worse. All those Warric and Alburn nobles are so devoted, and what do I do? I send them someone the church tried for witchcraft.”

“I’m not a witch!” she snapped. “I wasn’t convicted of anything, and everyone with a brain between their ears knows
that trial was a fabrication of Braga and Saldur to get their hands on our throne.”

“The truth doesn’t matter. Everyone believes what the church tells them. They said you’re a witch, so that makes it so. Look at Modina. The Patriarch proclaims that she’s the Heir of Novron, so everyone believes. I should have never made an enemy of the church. But between Saldur’s betrayal and their sentinel killing Fanen, I just couldn’t bring myself to bend my knee.

“When I evicted the priests and forbade Deacon Tomas from preaching about what happened in Dahlgren, the people revolted. They set shops in Gentry Square on fire. I could see the flames from my window, for Maribor’s sake. The whole city could have burned. They were calling for my head—people right in front of the castle burning stuffed images of me and shouting, ‘Death to the godless king!’ Can you imagine that? Just a few years ago they were calling me a hero. People toasted to my health in every tavern, but now … well, it’s amazing how fast they can turn on you. I had to use the army to restore order.” Alric reached up and pulled his crown off, turning the golden circlet over in his hands.

“I was in Alburn at the court of King Armand when I heard about that,” Arista said, shaking her head.

Alric laid the crown on the arm of the throne, closed his eyes, and softly banged his head against the back of the chair. “What are we going to do, Arista? The Imperialists will return. As soon as they deal with Gaunt’s rabble, the army will come back.” His eyes opened and his hand drifted absently toward his throat. “I suppose they’ll hang me, won’t they? Or do they use the axe on kings?” His tone was one of quiet acceptance, which surprised her.

The carefree boy she had once known was vanishing before
her eyes. Even if the New Empire failed and Melengar stood strong, Alric would never be the same. In many ways, their uncle had managed to kill him after all.

Alric looked at the crown sitting on the chair’s arm. “I wonder what Father would do.”

“He never had anything like this to deal with. Not since Tolin defeated Lothomad at Drondil Fields has any monarch of Melengar faced invasion.”

“Lucky me.”

“Lucky us.”

Alric nodded. “At least we’ve got some time now. That’s something. What do you think of Pickering’s idea to send the
Ellis Far
down the coast to Tur Del Fur and contact the Nationalist leader—this Gaunt fellow?”

“Honestly, I think establishing an alliance with Gaunt is our only hope. Isolated, we don’t stand a chance against the empire,” Arista agreed.

“But the Nationalists? Are they any better than the Imps? They’re as opposed to monarchies as much as the empire. They don’t want to be ruled at all.”

“Alone and surrounded by enemies is not the time to be choosy about your friends.”

“We aren’t completely alone,” Alric said, correcting her. “Marquis Lanaklin joined us.”

“A lot of good that does. The empire took his holdings. He’s nothing more than a refugee now. He only came here because he has no place else to go. If we get more help like that, we’ll go broke just feeding them. Our only chance is to contact Degan Gaunt and form an alliance. If Delgos joins with us, that may be enough to persuade Trent to side in our favor. If that happens, we could deal a mortal blow to this new Nyphron Empire.”

“Do you think Gaunt will agree?”

“Don’t know why not,” Arista said. “It’s to our mutual benefit. I’m certain I can talk him into it, and I must say I’m looking forward to the trip. A rolling ocean is a welcome change from that carriage. While I’m away, have someone work on it, or better yet order a new one. And put extra padding—”

“You aren’t going,” Alric told her as he put his crown back on.

“What’s that?”

“I’m sending Linroy to meet with Gaunt.”

“But I’m the ambassador and a member of the royal family. He can’t negotiate a treaty or an alliance with—”

“Of course he can. Linroy is an experienced negotiator and statesman.”

“He’s the royal financier. That doesn’t qualify him as a statesman.”

“He’s handled dozens of trade agreements,” Alric interjected.

“The man’s a bookkeeper!” she shouted, rising to her feet.

“It may come as a surprise to you, but other people are capable of doing things too.”

“But why?”

“Like you said, you’re a member of the royal family.” Alric looked away and his fingers reached up to stroke his beard. “Do you have any idea what kind of position it would put me in if you were captured? We’re at war. I can’t risk you being held for ransom.”

She stared at him. “You’re lying. This isn’t about ransom. You think I can’t handle the responsibility.”

“Arista, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have—”

“Shouldn’t have what? Made your witch-sister ambassador?”

“Don’t be that way.”

“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, what way would you like me to
be? How should I react to being told I’m worthless and an embarrassment and that I should go sit in my room and—”

“I didn’t say any of that. Stop putting words in my mouth!”

“It’s what you’re thinking—it’s what all of you think.”

“Have you become clairvoyant now too?”

“Do you deny it?”

“Damn it, Arista, you were gone six months!” He struck the arm of the throne with his fist. The dull thud sounded loudly off the walls like a bass drum. “Six months, and not a single alliance. You barely got a maybe. That’s a pretty poor showing. This meeting with Gaunt is too important. It could be our last chance.”

She stood up. “Forgive me, Your Majesty. I apologize for being such an utter failure. May I please have your royal permission to be excused?”

“Arista, don’t.”

“Please, Your Majesty, my frail feminine constitution can’t handle such a heated debate. I feel faint. Perhaps if I retire to my room, I could brew a potion to make myself feel better. While I’m at it, perhaps I should enchant a broom to fly around the castle for fresh air.”

She pivoted on her heel and marched out, slamming the great door behind her with a resounding
boom!

She stood with her back against the door, waiting, wondering if Alric would chase after her.

Will he apologize and take back what he said and agree to let me go?

She listened for the sound of his heels on the parquet.

Silence.

She wished she did know magic, because then no one could stop her from meeting with Gaunt. Alric was right: this was their last chance. And she was not about to leave the fate of Melengar to Dillnard Linroy, statesman extraordinaire.
Besides, she had failed and that made it her responsibility to correct the situation.

She looked up to see Tim—or Tommy—leaning against the near wall, biting his fingernails. He glanced up at her and smiled. “I hope you’re planning on heading to the kitchens. I’m starved—practically eating my fingers here.” He chuckled.

She pushed away from the door and quickly strode down the corridor. She almost did not see Mauvin Pickering sitting on the broad sill of the courtyard-facing window. Feet up, arms folded, back against the frame, he crouched in a shaft of sunlight like a cat. He still wore the black clothes of mourning.

“Troubles with His Majesty?” he asked.

“He’s being an ass.”

“What did he do this time?”

“Replaced me with that sniveling little wretch Linroy. He’s sending him on the
Ellis Far
in my place to contact Gaunt.”

“Dillnard Linroy isn’t a bad guy. He’s—”

“Listen, I really don’t want to hear how wonderful Linroy is at the moment. I’m right in the middle of hating him.”

“Sorry.”

She glanced at his side and he immediately turned his attention back to the window.

“Still not wearing it?” she asked.

“It doesn’t go with my ensemble. The silver hilt clashes with black.”

“It’s been over a year since Fanen died.”

He turned back sharply. “Since he was killed by Luis Guy, you mean.”

Arista took a breath. She was not used to the new Mauvin. “Aren’t you supposed to be Alric’s bodyguard now? Isn’t that hard to do without a sword?”

“Hasn’t been a problem so far. You see, I have this plan. I sit here and watch the ducks in the courtyard. Well, I suppose
it’s not really so much a plan as a strategy, or maybe it’s more of a scheme. Anyway, this is the one place my father never thinks to look, so I can sit here all day and watch those ducks walking back and forth. There were six of them last year. Did you know that? Only five now. I can’t figure out what happened to the other one. I keep looking for him, but I don’t think he’s coming back.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” she told him gently.

Mauvin reached up and traced the lead edges of the window with his fingertips. “Yeah, it was.”

She put her hand on his shoulder and gave a soft squeeze. She did not know what else to do. First her mother, then her father and Fanen, and finally Hilfred—they were all gone. Mauvin was slipping away as well. The boy who loved his sword more than Wintertide presents, sweet chocolate cake, or swimming on a hot day refused to touch it anymore. The eldest son of Count Pickering, who had once challenged the sun to a duel because it had rained on the day of a hunt, spent his days watching ducks.

“Doesn’t matter,” Mauvin remarked. “The world is coming to an end, anyway.” He looked up at her. “You just said Alric is sending that bastard Linroy on the
Ellis Far
—he’ll kill us all.”

As hard as she tried, she could not help laughing. She punched his shoulder, then gave him a peck on the cheek. “That’s the spirit, Mauvin. Keep looking on the bright side.”

She left him and continued down the hall. As she passed the office of the lord chamberlain, the old man hurried out. “Your Highness?” he called, looking relieved. “The royal protector Royce Melborn is still waiting to see if there is something else needed of him. Apparently he and his partner are thinking of taking some time off, unless there is something pressing the king requires. Can I tell him he’s excused?”