“The throne is not the issue here. Your concern is Laister. Your concern has always been Laister. Let me make this clear to you one last time. Pathra Krous, the last Emperor of Fellein, stated who would ascend the throne when he passed. He named his cousin Nachia, as was witnessed not only by me but by the Lords in residence at the time. I have shown you the signed writ. I even allowed you to examine the royal seal before it was opened. Nothing has changed. Nothing will change. Laister is not fit to run the Empire. Nachia ascends to the throne before the end of the day.”
“You overstep yourself, Desh Krohan.” Her voice now was softer still, the faint whisper of a serpent preparing to strike. She was afraid of him, but she was not backing down.
Sometimes a person picks the wrong battles to champion.
“No, Danieca.”
He was still trying to find exactly the right words to end the discussion when she continued. “You forget yourself. I am not the Empress, that’s true enough, but you would do well to remember who you speak to. I have a great deal of influence with the right people and you know that to be true.”
“I do.” Desh nodded his head. “I know exactly how much influence you have. I know how much you are worth. I know your fortune is vast. I also know that Laister has done several scandalous things that have been brushed away by your influence.”
She started at that. Likely she would have tried to speak, but he continued on. “I am aware of everything that happens, Danieca. I knew about your delving into sorcery when you were younger, and I know exactly how well that went for you. I could, if asked, point to precisely where the bodies are buried.” He leaned closer. “Really, Danieca, not everything you read about sorcery is true. I speak from experience here. I wrote most of the books that are studied.
“I know where Towdra keeps his money. I know who you trust to watch your wealth when you are away. I know exactly what you own and where you hide it.” His voice rose, though he was doing his best to avoid actually yelling. The good fortune of the day was that Danieca had come to his private offices before preparing to make her latest threats and the rooms were excellent at keeping their secrets. “I know more than you understand, Danieca. As clever as you think you are, there is nothing you have done that remains a secret from me for long.”
“You’re an advisor, Desh Krohan. Nothing more than that. You’d do well to remember your place.”
“My place?” It was Desh’s voice that became a whisper then. “I am not an advisor. I am the First Advisor to the Throne of Fellein. I am the Regent to the Empire. Until I surrender the throne to the proper heir, I am in charge of the Fellein Empire, the greatest single power in the known world.”
Desh managed to stand even taller. “And you? You are an old woman with delusions of importance. Would you like to test me, Danieca?” He leaned down until their faces were only inches apart, knowing full well that what she saw most clearly were the shadows of his hood. There had been a time when he’d allowed himself to go casually around her, but those days were long past. They had not been friends or allies for many a year. Instead she was a thorn he tolerated. Sometimes he found her charming in her own caustic fashion, but not at the moment. He had had enough of her veiled accusations of impropriety and the barely concealed warnings of how powerful she was.
“You won’t be the first member of your family to threaten me. You likely won’t be the last. But I will tell you exactly what I have told previous members of the Krous bloodline that have tried to force my hand. You do not want to push me any further. If I decide that you are a real threat to me, I will defend myself.”
That got her attention. The woman who had pushed into his office with a dozen demands now looked at him and nodded her head fearfully. She opened her mouth to speak and he stopped her again.
“Just to make this very clear, Danieca, I will defend myself in any way I feel best suited to protecting myself, the Empire and the interests of the Empire. Consider very carefully the stories you heard about me when you were growing up and contemplate whether or not you wish to test their validity.”
She did not run out of his office, but she left with as much dignity as she could muster while walking at three times her usual pace.
Desh sighed and settled back into his seat. Usually one or more of the Sisters was there to stop that sort of confrontation, but they were away and he missed having the buffer.
His fingers found their way to his temples and once there started worrying at the knots of tension just under the skin.
The sound of Nachia entering his chamber was a small one, but he heard it.
Desh looked up and smiled at the woman. Nachia Krous was a beauty, much like most of her family. The entire group had married for money and success for generations and somewhere along the way they’d found a way to breed attractive children. He wasn't quite sure where things went wrong as they aged, but in most cases that seemed the case.
“My family has been here to see you again?”
“Of course they have.” He grinned and winced both. “Haven’t I told you it would be best to avoid sneaking into my chambers by way of the hidden passages?”
“Of course you have. But I’m about to be the ruler of the Empire, so I figured I could just ignore that rule.”
“There is that, I suppose.” Her logic was much like Pathra’s. That alone made him believe he was making the right choice by following the dead man’s wishes. Pathra Krous had been his friend as well as the Emperor of Fellein. He had been groomed and chosen by Desh himself. While Pathra had definitely been the one to suggest Nachia, it was also true that Desh had been planting that suggesting for a long time before the decision was made and that he’d spent a fair amount of his time grooming her just as he had her cousin.
“Have they convinced you that Laister is the better choice?”
“The world is many things, Nachia, but it has not gone completely mad. Laister will not be the Emperor. It’s you walking to the throne when the coronation takes place.”
“Have they all shown up?”
“Do you mean your family or the royal families?”
“Both I suppose.”
Desh sighed. “Well, it seems King Marsfel will not be with us.”
“Being dead tends to cause difficulties.” Nachia spoke under her breath but Desh heard her just the same. He almost scolded her, but in the end he merely smiled indulgently. She was behaving herself. She seemed to understand as well as Pathra had that she could say things to him that were decidedly not for the general populace.
“As his heir apparent, Lanaie has asked for aid in securing her kingdom.” Desh looked at her carefully as he poured himself a small goblet of sweet wine to ease the pressure in his skull. He poured a second for her as an afterthought.
Nachia took the small treat gratefully and sipped. “And have you made a decision on that, Desh?”
“Of course not. I’m setting that particular challenge aside for the new ruler of the Empire.”
She made an obscene gesture and Desh almost choked on the wine he’d just raised to his lips. “Really, is that the sort of thing Empresses should do on their coronation day?”
“So long as I am wise enough not to advertise the fact. Isn’t that what you always told Pathra?”
“He always did talk to you too much.”
“More than you know, ‘old man’.”
Desh rolled his eyes but could not keep a smirk from his face. “I’ll not live that name down for a while then, I suspect.”
“You are old and you are a man. It’s a fitting title.”
Amazing how the right words from the right person eased his tension far better than wine had ever managed.
“Sit down, Nachia. Relax for a few minutes before you have to start getting dressed.”
“I’m contemplating a drastic change in fashions.” She shook her head and sneered just a bit as she took a seat.
“I’m sure you are. Just the same, that dress you wear tonight will be the height of any
fashion.”
“I’m not wearing it so much as having it built around me.”
“I have no doubt you will look amazing.”
She paused and looked away from him. “I’m scared. You know that don’t you?”
“If you weren’t I’d be horrified for the fate of the Empire. You should be scared. It’s a very large responsibility you will be taking on.”
“That’s not actually comforting, Desh.”
“It’s not meant to be. But I will be by your side, Nachia. You understand that much at least. I will be by your side at all times.”
She nodded and blinked several times. Her face was already showing the stress of her future upon the throne.
“So there’s that. Today you ascend to the throne.” Desh sipped at his wine and savored the sweet warmth it offered. “Tomorrow we begin dealing with the affairs of the nation properly.” A slow grin spread across his face. “And next week we start looking to find you a suitable husband.”
“Excuse me?” Her voice did not quite shatter, but it most definitely cracked.
Desh smiled. “One of the duties of the Empress is to have an heir. It avoids problems like the one we’re facing with your family right now.”
“So would killing them all.” She was joking. He knew she was joking.
Still, “That could be arranged.”
“Shame on you, Desh.”
“I’m just acting in my official capacity as your advisor, Majesty.”
“Not for a few more hours.” She shook her head. “Not just yet.” She said the words like they were a plea to the gods.
The gods did not answer.
Six
The Coronation of Empress Nachia Krous went off without difficulties. That was the part that mattered. The rest of the world falling into pieces was merely an unfortunate side effect of the times.
Merros Dulver shook his head and looked at the courtyard before him. The Summer Palace was a vast place, to be sure, and it would be easy to get lost within the many halls of the place. The courtyard, however, was not a location where getting lost normally seemed remotely possible. The lawns were carefully cultivated; the hedges trimmed down and tended with regularity. It seemed a horrid waste of labor to tend to the place in Merros’s eyes, but the fact remained the entire area was a beautiful, wide open spread that ran in the front of the Summer Palace and looking at it now he couldn’t imagine the hedges would survive.
The long stretch of cobblestone road leading to the palace was clear, but on both sides were vast crowds of people, all of them looking on with awe. And, closer in, wooden platforms had been raised to seat more people and to give a clear view of the coronation. He had understood Tyrne was a very large city, but never had Merros seen so many people in one place, not even in the numerous border clashes he’d been part of.
There were musicians aplenty, and they made sure to spread joyous music for all to hear. He wondered who paid them for their efforts, but he had enough to worry about without adding that particular consideration.
Nachia Krous was crowned with all the appropriate celebration and decorum. Merros himself stood on the platform with her – he had even escorted her with a full battalion behind him – and he had watched while Desh Krohan introduced her, and the heads of each of the different churches in Tyrne had offered their blessings on her Majesty. She made her vows and she was given a spectacular crown to place on her brow above a dress that surely had enough fabric to make a dozen uniforms.
And while all of that went on he looked around for any sign of cutthroats, assassins, or even anyone with a good arm and a rock, because sometimes people wanted to get attention in the worst possible ways and didn’t consider their actions until after the fact. Nothing. Sometimes silence was lovely and other times it was nearly perfect; of course there were exceptions. He should have been delighted but instead the lack of anything untoward made Merros tense.
He shook his head. Perhaps that was the recent past rearing up to bite at him. There had been a time when he’d been a bit more optimistic. At least he thought there had.
A roar went up from the crowds as Empress Nachia was revealed to them in her full regalia, wearing her crown and holding the sword that had last been used to crown her cousin. He observed her with as detached a mind as he could. She was a lovely young woman. She was also capable of having him executed with little more than a thought, not that he believed she would. Still, it helped to have a little perspective.
Instead of looking at his new Empress, he scanned the crowds, looking for anyone who stood out, who did not follow the general mood of the crowds. It was easy enough to see them. The entire Krous family seemed to stand out along those lines. Brolley Krous was standing close by his sister and seemed delighted. Laister Krous looked less pleased. His expression was exactly the same as if he’d realized he’d just inhaled a bug in his sleep.
They were amusing on both sides, but there seemed no threats from either side of the Krous spectrum.
Taurn Durst moved closer to him and spoke just loudly enough to be heard over the din of people applauding. “We have to move now, sir. You said you wanted her back in the palace fast as could be.”
Merros nodded. The man was right, of course. “Let’s get her in the carriage and get back to where we need to be.” The notion of moving a woman a hundred yards in a carriage seemed almost comical, but not really, not when one considered the massive crowds.
He looked around and saw the armed soldiers along the wall, each with a crossbow and all of them alert. Had they looked at all bored he’d have made examples of them and they knew it. This was a moment to be careful. It had been only a short time before that a careless moment had caused the death of the last Emperor.
He gave a nod to Taurn and the man moved, calling out sharp orders to the Imperial Guard around them. The soldiers were in formal armor, wearing the dark blue coat of arms for the Empire and gleaming in the twilight. When they moved it was with nearly perfect precision, and Merros allowed himself a brief flash of satisfaction. Nothing less for this event. They had to look perfect in order to make the people understand that the Empire was strong.
Even if he doubted that strength was enough.
New recruits kept coming in, moving into the barracks and then quickly discovering that all of their previous training was only the start of their learning. The new soldiers, the old, all of them were fast discovering that they were not up to standards. Merros was serious about preparing the troops.
One hundred of the best the Empire had to offer held the way for Nachia Krous and Desh Krohan. Merros Dulver walked four paces behind them and, as they passed, the troops lined up behind him.
How the new ruler of the Empire managed to fit herself and her gown within the confines of the carriage would remain a mystery for all time in Merros’s eyes, and yet she accomplished that feat and left enough room for her advisor.
And a moment later the eight black chargers were moving on, pulling the head and heart of the Empire into the Summer Palace and leading the way for Merros and his troops.
And when they were inside and the main gates had been closed, the General allowed himself a little breathing space.
Only a little, however, as the celebration would surely go on for a good number of hours, regardless of whether or not the new Empress wanted to celebrate.
Nachia Krous sighed and fidgeted. “I hate this damned dress.”
“The coronation is done with. You can now head to your chambers and find something more comfortable if that’s your desire.” Desh Krohan’s voice was low and calm and he stared at her with that damn half-smile of his in place.
“You don’t approve though, do you?”
“It doesn’t matter, Nachia. You are now in charge of this nation. I merely offer advice.”
“By all the gods,” she shook her head. “You’re actually glad to be done with ruling, aren’t you?”
“I’ve never cared to rule, Nachia. I prefer to observe and offer assist
ance.”
Before she could respond the wizard’s face pulled into an expression of pain.
“Desh? Are you well?”
He shook his head and held up a hand for silence.
“You should take the time to get dressed in something more casual, Nachia. I have… a task to attend to.”
“A task? What do you mean?”
“The Sooth are making demands.”
He had spoken of the Sooth before, but she shook her head. Sometimes he spoke of the Sooth as a mystical art and sometimes as the spirits that art dealt with. Perhaps it was both. Whatever the case, she knew from experience that he did not like dealing with the Sooth.
“You said you don’t like handling the Sooth alone, Desh.”
“Not a matter of choice in this case, Majesty.” His teeth were gritted and his brow stippled with beads of sweat.
“What is happening, Desh?”
He looked up at her;those eyes she knew so well were dark and desperate.
“The Sooth almost never make demands, Nachia and when they do, I do not dare ignore them.”
The carriage came to a halt and, as it did, Desh rose from his seat and opened the door, sliding quietly into the crowded area. When Merros Dulver offered her a hand down there was no sign of the sorcerer.
“Your Majesty…” He held an arm out for her and she took it, mostly because the insane dress she was wearing made walking without help feel nearly impossible.
“I need to get to my chambers.”
“Your chambers?”
Nachia stared hard at him. “I’m not wearing this thing a damned moment longer than I must. I want comfortable clothes and I want them now.”
“As you wish.” He stifled a smile and walked with her, a dozen armed men following behind them.
“Are they necessary?” Nachia didn’t like the idea of being followed wherever she went.
The Seven Forges Novels Page 41
