The Pinnacle Of Empire (Book 6)
Read The Pinnacle Of Empire (Book 6) Online
Authors: C. Craig Coleman
The Pinnacle
of
Empire
Book 6
The Neuyokkasinian Arc of Empire Series
By
C. Craig Coleman
Neuyokkasinian Arc of Empire Series
Book 6
The Pinnacle of Empire
Copyright
©
2015 C. Craig Coleman
Cover art by artists
Landon Markasky
Map by Cartographer Antonio Frade
DEDICATION
Dedicated to Author Richard Sutton whose mentoring through the publication of this series has made it possible. We have an obligation to try to make the world a better place. Mr. Sutton lives that philosophy.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
Special thanks to Karlie DeMarse copy editor, whose help made possible the proper publishing of this story.
Thanks to Landon Markasky for the spectacular cover art and Antonio Frade for the splendid maps in this book.
Table of Contents
3: Governor_Hedrak_Mendenow_Province
5: Nemenese Travels Urgenak Forest
9: Saxthor Returns to Engwaniria
10: Velstorbokkin Falls to Senoshesvas
12: Intrigue & War Mobilization
19: War in the East; New Plot in the West
20: Eastern War; Beginning of Decline
Neuyokkasinian-Powterosian_Dictionary
Prologue
:
In Engwaniria, capital of the Powterosian Empire, Emperor Saxthor Claremendak Calimon de Chatronier of Neuyokkasin sat on the golden dragon and phoenix throne in the cavernous grand audience hall of Ossenkosk Palace. Belnik, elevated to the peerage as Count of Feldon, still insisted on attending Saxthor. He brought fruit and drink as servants lit the last candles near the dais, then left the emperor to his reflections. Saxthor scanned the silent splendor and reflected on the warmth of his youth.
“Where does time go, Belnik? So much has happened, so much I’ve neither sought nor imagined would ever occur. How is it that the plans you make never come to pass? Life takes its course, bearing you along as a leaf in white water, dashing your efforts to direct it.”
“It’s not really random, Saxthor. You’ve made decisions that took your life in certain directions even if Your Majesty never intended many events that resulted. If you’d refused to go into exile, Witch Earwig would have killed you. If you hadn’t agreed to undertake the great adventure, you’d never have reassembled the Crown of Yensupov and, most likely, the Dark Lord would now rule Neuyokkasin.”
“Still, I don’t know that we’re in control of our lives.”
“Life gives us challenges, Saxthor. It’s up to us to make good decisions and hope luck and timing are with us. You’ve done well in that.”
“I missed my youth and growing up with my family. Swept along in this whirlwind of a life, I’ve fallen in love with Queen Dagmar, but as emperor, I can’t marry her. I have the world, but what good has it brought me? I have the most splendid palace ever built, my slightest thought is law, but what I’ve loved most, my success has denied me.”
“Everything in life has a price, Majesty. You accepted your dynastic responsibilities. You saved your family’s throne, your kingdom, your people, and now most of the world. That’s a pretty grand accomplishment.”
“The poor think the rich have it easy. Wouldn’t they be surprised to learn wealth and power have their own set of problems?” Saxthor saw Belnik smile.
“Will there be anything else, Your Highness? If not, I’ll leave you to your thoughts.”
“Stay a while, Belnik. I need to talk to someone and there’s no one else here I trust.”
“How may I assist, Majesty?”
“We’re alone; you needn’t be so formal. How is your family? Those six children of yours must be nearly grown up.”
“Thank you for your consideration. They are nearly grown, as you say. The oldest is at the Konnotan court. Governor Vicksnak took him as his aide. It was most kind of him to look after my son.”
“Bodrin will train him well. He’ll be well established at court with a bright future.” Saxthor looked at his cousin. I suspect he knows I asked Bodrin to look after the boy, he thought.
“Your Majesty has been most generous to Neuyokkasin. I understand you’ve opened the royal treasury to expedite the kingdom’s restoration.”
“Yes, and I’ve ordered the imperial treasurer here to send financial assistance to Sengenwha and Graushdem to rebuild those shattered kingdoms. I’ve listened to the people’s complaints and seen for myself suffering everywhere. I’ve just read the imperial commission’s report on the state of the empire. Tomorrow, I’ll order the arrest of the ministers of interior and treasury. They’ll be tried for corruption; there’s ample evidence. Their hereditary titles and estates will be forfeit. They’ll be imprisoned for life for their treason when found guilty. I’ll order all their assets traced, seized, and sold. The crown will return the proceeds to their victims. We must make a strong and clear statement that corruption will neither pay nor be tolerated under the Calimon dynasty. There’s so much to be done.”
“Your Imperial Highness was the right man to save Neuyokkasin and the whole peninsula. Now it seems you’re the right man to revitalize the empire as well.”
“Perhaps, but the price is too high.”
“Your Majesty is thinking of Queen Dagmar again.” Belnik frowned.
“Yes, I love her so much. We’re meant for each other. We understand each other, being of royal heritage and having experienced so much together.”
“You must marry the princess imperial to prevent civil war. Queen Dagmar must marry King Grekenbach to mend old wounds, alleviate her peoples’ fears of imperial Neuyokkasin, and concentrate on incorporating Prertsten into Sengenwha. You both have your mandates that far outweigh your personal wishes. At least the new kingdom of Graushdem-Sengenwha will be a strong ally. Peace will come to the world.”
“Maybe… the more I learn of the empire, the kingdoms of Senoshesvas and Velstorbokkin to the west, and Zenobia to the south, the more I worry that peace is not yet at hand.”
Imperial Chatra Boktorian entered Emperor Saxthor’s private audience chamber. The resplendent court robes shuffled slightly, revealing his portly torso as he walked. Three attendants followed, carrying bulging leather satchels crammed, presumably, with documents and maps to substantiate the minister’s impending presentation. Boktorian hesitated before removing his elaborate headdress, revealing a vulnerable, balding head. As he bowed, his double chin jiggled below full, clean shaven cheeks. Only the sharp glint in his dark eyes suggested the shrewdness Saxthor knew of the man. Saxthor put a letter from Bodrin on the table beside his elaborately carved chair and rose to formally greet his chatra.
“Good evening. We trust you’re well,” Saxthor said.
“Except for a touch of gout, I’m in excellent health, Majesty. Thank you for asking. I trust Your Majesty is well also.”
Saxthor nodded. “Have you brought the reports on the empire and the three kingdoms we inquired about?”
Boktorian motioned for the attendants to deposit the satchels on the emperor’s desk. With an arrogant back flip of his hand, he indicated they should withdraw.
The minister took a beautifully embroidered cloth from his sleeve and mopped his brow. He bowed, as if to apologize, then his flabby arm swept toward the bundles. “Yes, Your Imperial Highness. These are the documents you required.”
“Tell us in your own words about the state of the empire. We wish to know your view of the world,” Saxthor said.
Boktorian fluttered, unable to restrain a smile, beaming with presumed self-importance. “The empire has seven major provinces, now eight with the inclusion of Neuyokkasin,” Boktorian began.
“The kingdom of Neuyokkasin remains our personal kingdom. It is to be treated as such, though within the imperial domain,” Saxthor interjected.
“Of course,” the flushed chatra said. “The rest of Your Highness’ empire consists of seven provinces whose governors are personally appointed by you and serve at your pleasure. The imperial legions are traditionally stationed on the borders with the adjoining kingdoms to the southeast and west. As Your Highness is a distant relative of the former ruling dynasty, the empire has traditionally avoided stationing legions on the Neuyokkasinian border until the recent altercation.”
“Yes, well, the
altercation
as you put it is concluded. Send for General Occtec. Inform him that now that the war is concluded, we wish his recommendation on demobilizing twenty percent of the legions. We wish to retire the oldest legionnaires and settle them on grants of undeveloped imperial lands close to the three kingdoms. Their presence will deter mischief, and they’ll be close by, should we need to recall them to service in an emergency. We must reduce imperial expenses and roll back taxes if we’re to renew and stimulate the economy now that the war is over.”
“But Your Highness, the government must go on. It may be unwise to reduce the army and taxes. The three kingdoms still pose a threat.”
Saying nothing, Saxthor glanced at the chatra. Boktorian lowered his face, noting the instructions in silence. He again mopped his brow. Both men knew the minister had overstepped his place, presuming to tell the emperor what he must do.
“Your next assignment, lord chatra, is to report on recommendations to reduce government expenses at all levels by five percent. There are always inefficiencies and elevated costs in government. The late emperor allowed governmental representatives to expand without restraint. We will correct some excesses. We will eliminate programs that no longer serve their purpose. Establish a new office of accountability and have it review job responsibilities with recommendations to update or abolish. We’re going to reduce excessive personnel on government payrolls. We want weekly updates on your progress.”
Boktorian bowed acknowledgement, mopping his glistening brow yet again. “As you say, Majesty.”
“Tell us of the three kingdoms,” Saxthor said. He noted the minister’s confidence dissolving. He needs to learn I’m not to be led and manipulated like Engwan. His arrogance needs to be restrained, but I don’t wish to dampen his enthusiasm or initiative. I see he feels the need to document his claims.
Boktorian rushed to the great desk and fumbled with the satchels. The stress lines in his face relaxed as he exhaled, having found several substantiating papers for what he was about to present. He rolled out a continental map, secured its ends, and pointed to Zenobia.
“Zenobia, on the southern border, is an old and mysterious kingdom ruled by King Zirkin, the sorcerer-king. Like the two western kingdoms bordering the empire, Zenobia is protected by high mountains that prevent invasion by an army sufficient to subdue it.
Generations ago, the empire attempted to invade Zenobia, but the army was repelled at the passes. The stalemate continued through Engwan II’s reign. Finally, they concluded a peace treaty when his son Emperor Elwin came to the throne. Since then, Zenobia has been a nominal ally of the empire, though they declined Engwan’s request for assistance when he began the invasion of your Neuyokkasin. Not a lot is known about the kingdom. Its people are fierce, living conservative lives farming rich but rocky soils. They are loyal to their kings, the current monarch especially, revering his purported powers as a sorcerer. They rely on him to keep wars at bay. The kingdom seems to insist on self-reliance, doing little trading with the empire. Zirkin doesn’t even allow our ambassador to take residence in his capital. However, the Zenobian ambassador resides here in Engwaniria, not far from Ossenkosk Palace. Zenobia is isolationist. Our agents watch the kingdom from a distance for signs of growing evil since the king indulges in sorcery, but to date, the king seems non-threatening.”
“And what of the two western kingdoms?”
“Senoshesvas and Velstorbokkin on the western border are also mysterious. Velstorbokkin is the oldest of the continental kingdoms. Its ruling dynasty has been on the throne since the collapse of the Occintoc Empire. Old King Nemenese of Velstorbokkin is sixty-seven. He was quite an athlete and warrior-king in his youth. Even now, his red hair turned white is thick. His beard and fierce eyes intimidate our ambassador. It is mostly an agricultural kingdom, protected behind her mountainous border with the empire. They trade extensively with Tixos. Nemenese seems content to remain behind his mountains and live in peace.”
“And the third kingdom, Senoshesvas, what of that kingdom?”
Wide-eyed, Boktorian moved closer to Saxthor. He held out a scroll, shaking it slightly. “Senoshesvas is the incessant source of ripples in the placid lake of peace. King Nindax of Senoshesvas is relatively new to the throne. We think he was of royal birth, but he wasn’t heir apparent. We understand he may be insecure in his lofty station. At forty-seven, he’s a tall, heavily muscled man, overcompensating for his background with ostentatious military uniforms bespangled with orders and metals to enhance his imposing figure. His long, black hair is disheveled, along with his beard, a strange contrast to his meticulously kept attire. Nindax is always spoiling for a fight. He’s missing his little finger on his left hand from some brawl, we’re told by our spies.”
“A fight? Does this King Nindax seek war with the empire?”
“We just don’t know. If trouble comes, it’ll come from Senoshesvas. Nindax knows he can’t challenge the empire directly, but if he senses weakness, no one knows if he would go to war to expand his kingdom.”
“Get us more information on this Nindax. That will be all for now. You may leave the documents you’ve brought. We’ll look over them as time permits.”
Boktorian bowed deeply. As he rose, Saxthor noted his facial muscles relaxed. The chatra placed the scroll on the desk and bowed repeatedly, backing from the room. When he’d gone, Saxthor picked up the scroll-map and studied it. What the chatra said verified what his Neuyokkasinian chatra suspected about the three kingdoms.
Clearly, Nindax is the king to watch, he thought.
* * *
“Who does he think he is?” Princess Imperial Tottiana asked her mother, Dowager Empress Helgamyr, as she burst into the dowager’s Ossenkosk Palace quarters.
The sudden intrusion startled the slightly plump dowager. She sat straight up in bed, cleared her throat, slapped at a lady-in-waiting attempting to straighten the duvet, and adjusted her elegant bedcovers to her liking herself.
“Who, my dear?” Helgamyr asked, taking a mirror from her attendant and gently patting her dyed, tightly-curled, black hair, checking for any strands out of place.
“Saxthor the usurper, of course,” Tottiana said, noting her mother’s flabby arm when she handed the mirror to the lady. She’s let herself go since father died, she thought
.
“Oh… him… yes, well, you can’t expect too much from him, my dear. We’re descended from the oldest of the continental royal houses. Your grandfather, King Nemenese is a true royal, and of course, my Engwan was a great, if unappreciated, emperor. The genealogist reports this upstart Neuyokkasinian was merely king of some obscure state on the peninsula before seizing the imperial throne. His dynasty is but two hundred years on the throne, a new comer. It’s all in the breeding, you know.” The dowager cast a momentary glance at her agitated daughter. “What’s he done now?
“Countess, get the black laced gown with the gold embroidered butterflies and the black gown with the embroidered ruby roses we discussed last night. I simply haven’t been able to decide. I want Tottiana to choose which I should wear today.”
“Don’t you think all that embroidery is a bit excessive for your mourning, Mother?”
“What can you mean, child? I may have been displaced by that upstart, but I still hold status at court. I must maintain my appearance as the nobility expects. After all, I was empress less than a year ago.”
“But mother, you’re forty-five now. Don’t you think all that embroidery on mourning gowns might be a bit… well… provocative?” She wears the most flamboyant gowns and always with slippers too small for her feet, she thought. I suspect this vanity is overcompensation for losing the throne. It must be an attempt to reestablish her worth
.
Helgamyr’s face flushed; her eyes grew red. She gazed at the ornate, silver-framed picture of her late husband on her nightstand. The sinews in her throat strained and she swallowed, apparently choking back tears. But then her lips pinched and her eyes narrowed. “So I’m an old has-been now, am I?” the dowager’s croaking voice mumbled.
“I didn’t say you were a has-been or old, Mother, just that you’re so lovely, you should wear the simpler gowns so your own dignity shows to your advantage.”
The dowager puffed up. A twitching smile dispelled the ugly red flushing. She permitted her attendant to bind a heavy velvet robe around her. Helgamyr came to her daughter and led her to the adjoining sitting room where servants had laid out a sumptuous breakfast on hearing the dowager was awake. The two royals sat, nibbling on delicacies washed down elegantly with a fragrant tea amid the finest tropical palms, ferns, and orchids.
“Now, what has Saxthor, or whatever his name is, done to upset you?” Helgamyr patted her daughter’s hand. “We’ll have more cream cakes, Countess.” The dowager’s plump hand extended beyond the ruffled lace cuff. Tiny plump fingers, choked with dazzling gemstone rings, pointed at a delicate crystal plate besmirched by crumbs. The two royals watched the slender lady-in-waiting withdraw. As the intricately carved door closed behind her, Helgamyr’s head jerked back to her daughter, her face pinched to a point.
“That usurper has ruined everything. Even my maid Nina fled when she heard that man was marching here to take the throne. She accompanied me when I came here to marry Engwan, you know. Good servants are rare, especially these days.” Her hand flicked toward the door. “These noble ladies-in-waiting seem vexed when asked to do the simplest things.”
“Well, what’s done can’t be undone, Mother. We’ll have to make the best of it. It’s just that I know Saxthor loves Queen Dagmar; the whole court chatters about it behind my back. I can see it in their faces when they look at me. The pity is too much to endure. Everyone knows he spent every hour with her while she was here for the coronation. It was such an insult to me. Now he avoids me, a further affront. He knows we must marry to stabilize the empire. I’m the laughingstock of the nobility.”
“We’ll get our revenge yet, my child.” Helgamyr didn’t look at her daughter. She was perusing the remaining pastries on the tea table.
Tottiana began a muffled weeping, dabbing her eyes with her handkerchief. Helgamyr’s head instantly jolted back to her daughter. “Stop that at once. You must not let others see you effected by that upstart.” The alert dowager glanced at the door. “You are the Princess Imperial. Of course you’ll marry the usurper. We must preserve this dynasty even if tarnished by this intruder. We’ll bide our time and get our revenge.”
Tottiana dried her eyes, cleared her sniffles, and checked her coiffure. She sat rigidly upright just as the courtier returned with the plate of cream pastries.
Helgamyr squeezed her daughter’s hand between their chairs, out of sight of the countess. She bent over to her daughter’s ear and whispered, “We’ll have our revenge yet.” Tottiana rose to leave. “Do stay and have another of these delicious cream cakes, my dear.”
“I must go, Mother.”
“But you haven’t told me which gown to wear today,” Helgamyr exclaimed.