In addition to the sunshine and open skies over my head, I was also relieved to have Bane back with us. The confines of the underground passageways of Dhel-Ar had simply been too restrictive for him. While he could have managed to walk them quite easily, Bane would never have been able to take flight while we traveled inside the mountain and chose to rejoin us when we emerged on the far side instead of suffering the restriction to his movements.
Our travel to Oróna was uneventful, save for the increasingly obvious anxiety I noticed from Líann as we drew closer and closer. She tried to hide her nervousness, and actually did a very good job of it, but I knew her too well and could almost feel it radiating off her despite her outwardly calm appearance. I assumed that Líann’s was just looking forward to returning home after so many months being absent from her Realm and didn’t press her on the issue. She’d never had any problem telling me when something was truly bothering her, so I didn’t think much of it beyond that.
Once we reached the great elven city, our army camped on the vast plains that lined the road just to its north—the same road that the delegations from the remaining independent Realms outside my Empire would have to travel as they arrived in Oróna. Each one would survey the entirety of the Imperial Army before they sat down at the negotiating table with me, with the message I’d sent to them clear in their minds.
We still had two days before the envoys were expected to arrive, and I took some of that time to tour the city. It was a much more formal affair than my last time walking through the streets; my full escort of personal guards couldn’t prevent that fact, but Oróna was still a marvel to behold. The bright white stone walls and graceful arches had lost none of their appeal, and the sights and sounds of the city were a delight to behold once again. Understandably, for a monarch who’d been absent so long, Líann had a full schedule for herself during those two days as well, and it prevented her from accompanying me on any of my excursions. Fortunately, the third morning was not only the day that the delegations were scheduled to arrive, but also our weekly breakfast together, and Líann finally revealed to me what had been troubling her during our journey, as well as what had kept her so busy the previous two days.
After taking a few nervous sips from her teacup, Líann finally told me just what she’d been doing.
“I’ve been keeping something from you,” she confessed hesitantly. “I would have told you sooner, but I knew that you’d object. But it’s too late for that now—it’s already done, and there’s nothing you can do now to change anything.”
Líann’s words caused me a great deal of alarm—whatever it was, this was no small matter that she’d been attending to. I wanted to say something, but Líann was so uneasy that I let her simply go on, rather than interrupt her.
“I may have been a horrible person before I met you, but I’d like to think that I was at least a decent Queen,” Líann anxiously toyed with the cup in her hands as she spoke. “I cared for my lands and my people, if not as individuals, at least in general.”
“But I’ve been torn between my obligations to them, and my love for you, and Íforn has suffered for it. My people deserve to have a ruler who is devoted only to them, and that is not me. I cannot leave your side, Empress, nor can I continue to rule Íforn from afar. I’ve been forced to choose one or the other, and yesterday, I made that choice.”
“I’ve submitted my formal abdication to the Regent; he will assume the Throne this afternoon. The documents have already been signed and attested, I cannot undo what has been done.”
“Íforn is in better hands now, and I am in yours,” Líann stared down into her lap as she finished.
To say that I was stunned or in shock would not capture even the slightest fraction of my surprise. Líann had surrendered everything she had… for me. More than most could ever dream of accumulating in a lifetime, and she’d willingly thrown it away to remain by my side.
It was true what she’d said—Líann and I couldn’t leave each other for any real length of time. Our previous time apart had nearly been devastating for both of us, but to simply wave off her title, the role she’d literally been born to assume, was an act of devotion I’d never expected. I reached across the table and pried Líann’s hands from the cup she was nearly worrying to pieces and held them in mine until she finally looked up and met my gaze.
“You were born to be a Queen, Líann,” the words seemed to flow from me without any thought or intention on my part. “And when the time is right, I will make you a Queen again. My Queen. You will sit by my side and help me rule Arrika. You’ve lost nothing—you’ve only given away a small thing so that you may gain something even larger.”
“You will not go without a title in the meanwhile,” I finished. “You’ve been my unofficial advisor for a while, and now I’ll make that an official Cabinet position and name you Chief Advisor to the Empress.”
Neither of us were in the mood to eat after that, and we lay down together for a while instead. Líann rested her head on my shoulder and I held her as she cried every few minutes. She’d given up everything she’d ever had and ever known for me, and the pain of that loss weighed heavily on Líann. Unsurprisingly, we shared no tendrils of darkness or passion that morning, but Líann did ask me to send her one of my softer threads. She wanted to feel the simple basic nature of its influence once more, a reminder I assumed, of just what she’d done.
Although Líann had taken in that thread before, that morning was the first time that she truly understood it. The subtle nature of its simplicity, the way it embraced the unadorned aspects of life, finally connected with her and Líann recognized its inner meanings and full importance. Only once she’d felt herself fully disarmed from the heights of her position did the impact of those threads register with her completely.
I stayed with her far longer than I should have, offering Líann reassurance in her state of discomfort, but we both had much to do to prepare for the conference that was to be held the next morning. Meetings to attend, final briefings to review, and so much more. Finally, Líann kicked me out, putting on a brave face as she sent me on my way.
Thoughts of Líann’s sacrifice continued to run through my mind, but with the conference the next morning and all that I needed to do to prepare for it, I couldn’t afford their distraction. Many thousands of lives potentially hung in the balance of what was decided the next day. I needed to focus my mind on what I had to do to preserve as many of those lives as possible before I set out to extinguish the others.
I had individual meetings with all my Ministers, and then we ended the evening with a full conference together. By then, news of Líann’s abdication had spread like wildfire, and the shock of it, along with the abrupt coronation of King Taeren, had likely thrown a great many of our opposition’s plans in disarray. An oddly convenient side-effect of Líann’s timing that did not pass unnoticed during our own discussion of the issue.
“I made the decision some time ago, that is true,” Líann confessed with a wry smile as we discussed the implications. “But only once I’d made up my mind did the matter of timing enter into things.”
The internal strength required for Líann to plan such a momentous event with such calculation filled me with awe. Even though Líann was certain of her choice, the decision she’d made still devastated her. To carry on with that burden inside her and keep it secret, even from me, spoke of a reserve within her that I’d never known before. I wasn’t sure whether that was because I’d underestimated her or if it was due to the growth she’d undergone, but it was quite obvious that Líann was far stronger than I’d given her credit for.
Although the dramatic turn in events would likely affect how the other Realms approached our discussions, we eventually decided that it hadn’t really changed anything for us. Our appeal would essentially remain the same—join us or be forced to join. There would be no third option offered. With our course of action confirmed, we concluded our planning for the morning summit and headed off to rest fo
r the night.
“Líann’s excuse that she abdicated because she felt called to serve all of Arrika might fool most, but I know that she did it for you,” Tási commented when we were alone in our chambers and could finally talk freely. “Even so, that took a great deal of courage.”
“Líann didn’t do it for me; she did it for us,” I corrected Tási’s statement. “Mostly she and I, to be sure, but we’ll all benefit from her sacrifice.”
Tási nodded slowly in acknowledgement of what I’d said. She had no choice, really—it was the truth, and she recognized it as such.
“Do you need to go to her?” Tási offered hesitantly. “This is no small thing. I’ll understand if she needs you with her once more.”
I’d never expected it the first time Tási had conceded a night to Líann. Even though this one was almost more deserved in some ways, the offer Tási made surprised me. As much as I wanted to take Tási up on that offer, the timing for it was just not right. Líann would have definitely called on me to share my darkness with her, and I wasn’t comfortable wielding it that night, on the eve of such important negotiations. No, I needed something very different at the time, but I wasn’t about to let Tási’s offer go so easily either.
“I do need to spend some time with Líann,” I admitted. “But not right now—this is not the night to bring out my darkness. We have a very important meeting in the morning, and I need you to bring me your calm. Tonight, more than anything else, I need you, Tási.”
I gazed into Tási’s deep blue eyes the entire time I spoke to her, letting her not only know, but also feel just how intensely I meant every word I’d said. Tási understood with perfect clarity, and I shed my armor and laid down on my stomach so that she could send me the calming waters of her gentle touch.
Tási’s powers were far weaker than mine, but she’d become the absolute master of them. The second her fingers slid across my skin, I felt the gentle currents of warm water ebbing and flowing through the muscles of my back and shoulders. The soothing nature of Tási’s touch, and the waves of pure calm she was able to send into me along with it, relaxed me like nothing else ever could. My anxiety over the coming negotiations melted away beneath those waves, like tiny sandcastles being swept away by the incoming tide, and I felt myself melting away with them as well into the deep, dark water of peaceful sleep.
28
I woke up in the same position I’d fallen asleep, having slept so soundly that I’d never even stirred. It was perhaps the most restful night’s sleep I’d had in many long months, and couldn’t have come at a better time. I certainly needed to be at my best; the fate of seven Realms weighed in the balance that morning.
Tási was already gone when I woke, but I knew where she’d be waiting for me. My entire Cabinet—including my newly-installed Chief Advisor—were going to enter the negotiations together, and they’d be waiting for me in a room we’d commandeered close to the site of the meeting just for that purpose. So, after getting ready and having a quick breakfast, I left to join them there.
I arrived ahead of time and was relieved to see that I wasn’t the last. Stel and Venna were still not there, but there was still plenty of time left before we needed to head over to the conference. They joined the rest of us shortly, and we waited together in silence for it to be time to make our entrance. We’d said all we needed to say—everyone knew their roles and the parts they had to play. For most, if everything went well, they would need to do nothing. Broda, as my Ambassador, and I would do most of the talking. Only if things went badly, would anyone else be called upon to speak.
The envoys were already seated when my counsellors and I filed into the conference room. I’d been expecting to see seven representatives sitting across from us, but one of the chairs sat empty. The two dwarven Ambassadors were present, as was the representative from the lone elven Realm outside my domain, but only two of the expected three human Kingdoms were present. Based on my briefings, I had a good idea which one had decided not to attend.
When the introductions were made, my suspicions were confirmed. The isolationist Realm of Laska had not bothered to attend. Their culture was barely above basic tribalism, with clans and other loose organizations dominating much of the region’s society. Still, they were ruled by a council of Thanes, the title they bestowed upon their nobles, and I’d hoped that those nobles might have seen reason.
While the absence of Laska was disappointing, there were six other Realms to deal with, and after Broda spoke our half of the introductions, I proceeded with the demonstration we’d planned.
“Each of your Realms were presented with a copy of the Imperial Charter,” I began as I rose from my seat. “No one can deny that its terms are just and fair, or that under its umbrella exists the best and only chance for peace for every Realm.”
“You’ve seen the Army I’ve brought with me, the Army that I will lead against the Dark Lands once all of Arrika has been united. The choice before you is clear: join with us. That’s it—there simply is no other option.”
“My quest, the quest the Gods themselves have chosen to bless, is for me to unite all of Arrika. There can be no exceptions. I will need all of your strength to challenge the might of the Dark Lands, and I will accept no less. What is left for you to decide is whether we will come together by way of friendship and acceptance, or with rage and fury.”
As I spoke the last, I extended my arms forward towards the envoys seated across from me. In the palm of my right hand I held a ball of brilliant light, woven from my threads of love and respect, which I drew forth as I spoke the words ‘friendship and acceptance,’ and the rays of its luminous light illuminated the room. In contrast, my left hand held a seething ball of rage that I produced as I spoke my final words, and its roiling mass of pure darkness made good on the implications of my threat. I held the two orbs in my hands for only a moment before letting them dissipate, pulling their threads back inside me. From there, it was Broda’s turn to speak once more.
“Who will be first to sign?”
The Realms had plenty of time before the meeting to evaluate the Charter we offered and to verify our claims. The dwarven Realms of Bhamar and Braskan, along with the human Kingdom of Earmont had all come with the express intent of joining, and my display hadn’t been necessary to convince them. The representative from the human Realm of Ryland had been sent with one simple mandate: determine if my claims were true, and if they were, she was to sign on as well. It had taken her no more than a quick evaluation of our God-forged gear to make that determination, and just like that, four Realms had been added to my Empire.
The elven representative from Sianna was also sent with one particular mandate: secure their border against attacks from Laska. Although the King of Sianna wished to become part of my Empire, their neighbor to the north had made threats against them, should they join me. Threats they couldn’t ignore if they wanted to remain safe from border raids and skirmishes. However, once their other neighbors had all signed on, the Siannans no longer faced any threat but on their border with Laska, and the troops freed up by joining the Empire and gaining our security provided them all the assurances they needed.
Once the Siannans’ reservations had been addressed, only the Realms of the representative from the island nation of Ansa and the absent Laskans remained outside my jurisdiction.
“We will not be bullied into joining your Empire,” the Ansan delegate snorted derisively. “The troubles of the mainland do not concern us, and we will not sacrifice our people in your wars.”
“I would ask you to reconsider your position,” Broda replied calmly to the man’s belligerent comments. “Lest you find the troubles you speak of knocking on your own doorstep.”
“Neither your army nor your threats worry us,” he dismissed her words. “Our islands have never been conquered. Just like our friends in Laska, we refuse to give in to your blatant attempts to subjugate us.”
The two traded barbs back and forth for a while until it wa
s obvious that the Ansan delegate was there for no purpose other than to cause trouble. Venna stepped in then and thanked the intolerable man for his time, and the meeting was adjourned. A separate session was then held with our new allies, where we welcomed them to the Empire and discussed both their needs and obligations with them.
All agreed to supply the troops required of them, but none would be able to do so very quickly. Each needed to realign their forces with their new alliances in mind, especially the Siannans with the troublesome Laskans to their north. It was disappointing, but not unexpected. We’d actually discussed this exact scenario, among others, and had already made some of the necessary preparations for it. Even many of our best-case scenarios had anticipated the Laskans’ resistance, with the Ansans’ a close second. With that in mind, we’d already called in a number of favors, and everything we needed to take both Realms was already in motion.
That was it—in the span of a single morning, far faster than anyone had anticipated, the conference was over. Five of the seven Realms had joined me. Most of them only needed the barest of prodding, if any, to do so. War and strife had ruled over the lands of Arrika for so long that only the most arrogant and foolhardy had refused my invitation once it became apparent that the peace I’d offered them was real.
But the two Realms left for me to conquer each presented their own particular challenges—the Ansan representative’s boast had not been misplaced. His Realm, much like the halfling Realm on the other side of the continent, had the security of being an island nation, but while Ansa was safe from many of the troubles of the mainland nations, it was not immune to their consequences. The island Kingdom relied on trade for many of its needs and a great deal of its economy. When war or raids disrupted that trade, Ansa was frequently brought to its knees. That’s why, as the first order of business in the War Council we convened after the mornings’ meetings, word was sent out that all trade between Ansa and the Realms of my Empire was to be halted. It would take some time for my Army to reach the straights across from Ansa, and in that time I intended for the rulers of that Realm to begin to feel the consequences of their action.
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