Contents
Title Page
Glossary
Dramatis Personae
Map - Left
Map - Right
Offer
Quote
Prologue
1 Neublusten
2 Vilnia
3 Everdawn
4 Vilnia
5 Asturia
6 Everdawn
7 Cormona
8 Vilnia
9 Everdawn
10 Cormona
11 Vilnia
12 Everdawn
Epilogue
Preview
Hearts of Fire
Author's Note
About The Author
Online
Dedication
Other Books
Copyright
Empire Asunder
Book One:
Three of Swords
By
Michael Jason Brandt
Guide to Imperial Ranks, Titles, and Terms
Nobility
Emperor - the highest authority in the Empire, dominion over all twelve kings
King - ruler of a kingdom/province, swears fealty to the Emperor
Duke - ruler of a duchy within a kingdom, swears fealty to a king
Baron (Hern in some provinces) - ruler of a barony within a kingdom, swears fealty to a duke or king
Count (Landgrave in some provinces) - ruler over two or more lords, swears fealty to a baron, duke, or king
Lord - landed gentry with Imperial holdings
Military
Soldiers are divided between recruit ranks, drawn from the commoners, and officers, generally drawn from nobility or esteemed veterans of the recruit ranks.
A standard squad (squadron for cavalry) is 10 privates plus a corporal.
A standard company is 4 squads (3 for cavalry) led by a captain.
Officer Ranks
General - commands an army, reports to the king
Commander - commands a regiment or detachment, reports to a general
Captain - commands a company, reports to a commander
Recruit Ranks
Corporal - recruit in command of a squad, reports to a captain
Private - recruit, reports to a corporal
Provincial and Town Officials
Chancellor - a position of authority over administrative or financial matters within a province, appointed by king
Retainer - personal follower of a specific member of the nobility, sometimes themselves of lesser nobility
Magistrate - chief judicial and executive official in a city, town, or significant village, usually appointed by lord, count, or baron
Clerk - chief administrative official in a city, town, or significant village, usually appointed by magistrate
Historian - librarian overseeing Archives, usually appointed by magistrate
Other
Swordthane - member of the Order of Swordthanes
First of Swords - singular head of the order
Second of Swords - one of two thanes obedient to the First of Swords
Third of Swords - one of six thanes obedient to a Second of Swords
Housethrall - servant for life in the employ of nobility, town official, or prominent family
Fieldthrall - worker for life employed on one of the many farms dotting the Empire
Cards of an Imperial Deck
Heart - Love
Crown - Nobility
Shield - Friendship and Loyalty
Dragon - Beasts
Storm - Chaos
Sword - War and Conflict
Devil - Evil
Skull - Death
Dramatis Personae
Akenberg
King Hermann
Prince Markolac (Marko), Hermann’s eldest son
Prince Nicolas (Nico), Hermann’s second son
Renard, retainer to Prince Nicolas
Dolen, a Swordthane and mercenary
The Threeshields, Akenberg cavalry company
Captain Bayard
Corporal Keldon and Mickens
Privates Mip and Pim, twin brothers, young recruits
Private Lima, a young recruit
Private Manus, a veteran
Asturia
King Anton
Princess Letitia (Leti), Anton’s daughter
Prince Tobias (Toby), Anton’s son
Lord Jacinto, Anton’s adviser
Captain Gornada, in command of Anton’s Royal Guard
Private Zenza, a Swordthane and member of Anton’s Royal Guard
Duke Iago, ruler of Feana, a rebel province
Everdawn
Rosco, village magistrate
Kluber, Rosco’s son
Riff, Rosco’s housethrall
Rodrik, village clerk
Sofi, Rodrik’s wife
Kevik, Rodrik’s son
Kleo, Rodrik’s daughter
Jak, Rodrik’s housethrall
Henrik, village historian
Calla, Henrik’s daughter
Acolyte Bashir, former caretaker of the Shrine of Tempus
Disciple Lukas, current caretaker of the Shrine of Tempus
Vilnia
King Volocar
Commander Jenaleve (Jena), Volocar’s eldest daughter
General Ariens, in command at Halfsummit
Captain Marek, in command of an infantry company
Private Karlo, a soldier
Private Redjack, a soldier and scout
Private Yohan, a soldier and half-Oster
For a free full-size color map of the world of Empire Asunder, please visit:
http://www.michaeljasonbrandt.com/
“The Sword’s purpose is to draw blood; to inflict pain; to distress and dominate one’s enemies. It is thus the symbol of conflict and war, to be eschewed over aught but Devil and Skull.”
—from the Imperial Deck Standard Rules
Prologue
A King’s Plan
A LAZY BREEZE wafted through the king’s chambers, bearing the aromatic essence of hyacinth and narcissus from the castle gardens. In calmer times, Hermann would stand sentinel on the enormous stone balcony overlooking these colorful grounds, their row upon row of trimmed plots as pleasing to the eye as their scent to the nose. He considered doing so now, to reassure his restless mind—a mind that needed reassuring, for although resolute in his decision he was not wholly without regret. It was not easy to kill one’s son.
Perhaps he would have gone to the balcony, and perhaps a fresh view of the world outside these walls would have led to a change in plans, a softening of temperament, a life spared. But his tired bones did not easily stir from comfort in recent years, and the luxury of the armchair was a pleasure not easily forsaken.
Besides, reassurance could take many forms. Pollak padded into the room, arousing a creased smile on papery lips. The only one of the king’s mastiffs allowed in these chambers, he soundlessly crossed the expanse of golden carpet to recline by the chair. Hermann’s hand reflexively reached out, and Pollak raised his head to meet it. The creature peered at his master with deeply affectionate eyes while the king stroked the smooth fur with slow, loving motions, all thoughts of gardens and reconsiderations banished for the moment.
The two of them shared these long minutes, distractedly content, until another breeze brought a chill and a touch of damp vapor, scooped off the nearby lake that gave Neublusten its name. Hermann’s gaze drifted to the slackening fire in the hearth, his mind balancing the desire for greater warmth with the effort required to achieve it, the appeal of summoning a servant with the regrettable necessity of privacy.
Whether dwelling
on the enormous or trivial, this was how his thoughts had always flowed; forever weighing options, seeking advantages, eliminating inefficiencies. It was by such deliberation that he had arrived at this juncture.
As a boy, he had repudiated the delights and whims of his peers in favor of the practical pursuits of status, wealth, and influence. And this philosophy had served him well—was he not now ruler of the greatest of the Twelve Kingdoms? Was his voice not respected by all, from the lowest fieldthrall to the highest Swordthane, a far cry from the middling station he had been born to? Respect was much more satisfying earned than inherited. But maintaining that respect in perpetuity was an effort beyond mortal capacity.
In this sense, he understood the emperor’s decision. In this one sense alone, however.
I am stepping down, Eberhart had unexpectedly informed the council. The people, the beasts, the very winds grow restless. All signs point to change. I am not the one to lead the empire through it. The announcement had rocked them like an explosion of Carthic fire.
Hermann’s quest for personal power had consumed much of his life. His earliest memories were filled with dreams of becoming emperor, of uniting the Twelve Kingdoms beneath a single banner. For a time, the prospect had even seemed achievable. Effort and inventiveness had raised him to foremost of the landgraves, overseeing these very lands surrounding Castle Neublusten. Determination, courage, and a touch of ruthlessness had brought him the throne. As king, he had systematically broadened the realm to include parts of neighboring Daphina and Asturia—wherever those provinces had been unable to resist his embrace—all through pretense, bribery, and bluster. Hermann had skillfully avoided overt war until he could be reasonably certain of not just victory but domination.
Perhaps he had waited too long. His armies had been ready, his justifications formulated, his anticipation of consolidating all three central kingdoms into one at a climax—when Eberhart came rising from the countryside as if birthed by the land itself. The man was a second sun, a titan amongst dwarfs, the strength of his persona even greater than that of his sword arm. Some claimed he had created the Swordthanes himself, although Hermann had first heard rumors of their eclectic rituals when but a child, so he dismissed that notion as one more hysterical fantasy. Yet there was no question Eberhart had taken the mystical order from obscurity to prominence, from disdain to admiration. Its appeal to the powerless masses, dispossessed of land and influence, was easy to understand. But even the nobility quickly embraced the quasi-religion to a degree that surprised Hermann. He supposed patience, discipline, courage, personal merit—and the promise of meeting one’s end on one’s own terms—held a certain universal appeal.
For whatever reasons, Eberhart’s meteoric rise put an end to Hermann’s ambitions. He watched another man become emperor. A better man, if truth be told. He accepted this in mind and heart, and doing so had allowed him to rule with a modicum of contentment for more than a tenyear. There was no shame in admitting one’s inferiority to the First of Swords and King of Kings.
But now with a simple, sudden announcement Eberhart was gone, the empire suddenly and irrevocably cast adrift. Since that moment, the implications never left Hermann’s thoughts. While the others of the council—kings and dukes alike—pled for reconsideration, Hermann sat silently, his mind already turning over the permutations. The emperor’s departure created a power void that someone desperately needed to fill.
Eberhart had said so himself. It is time for a new man to do as I’ve done. My life was meant to unify the lands and people of the empire. It was never intended for the challenges that lay ahead.
A potent stability accumulated during Eberhart’s reign prevented the empire from collapsing right away, but it was only a matter of time before the claimants would appear, dragging the disparate provinces back toward bickering, discord, and open conflict. A new leader needed to emerge quickly if the solidarity that was Eberhart’s gift was to be maintained.
Hermann was now too old to seize power for himself, but that did not mean he had lost all trace of his old ambition. It still burned in his breast, more a smoldering ember than a raging flame. He had long since realized it was not his destiny to rule the empire personally, but he would do everything in his power to see that his son did.
Thank the gods that his mind remained sharp and nimble. Now was a time for strategy, for influence, for manipulation—with the ultimate reward at stake. And he had no doubt there were eleven other kings with similar thoughts.
“You wished to see me, My King?”
As if reading a father’s thoughts, Markolac stood tentatively at the room’s sole entrance.
“Yes, Marko. Please come in.” The prince took a series of broad strides into the chamber before taking a knee.
Hermann continued to pet Pollak absentmindedly while he studied his eldest. The boy had grown into a fine young man. No remnant of the babe who had barely survived his first illness or that child who had frivolously chased birds and hidden beneath the skirts of servant girls at the appearance of strangers. With age and maturity, the lad had turned studious and serious. Reliable.
“Please stand. How are you feeling, Son?” He looked strong and healthy, but the last time they had spoken, a tenday prior, Marko had taken on a mild cough. Every factor needed to be considered.
“Fine, Father. Thank you for asking.” No hint of the cough remained.
“And your studies? How do they progress?”
“Excellent, Father. Master Goodwin has me learning Carthic and Dauphi. Chancellor Thamos is taking time to explain the finer details of excise, tariff, and capitation.”
Hermann resisted a shudder. Taxes were nearly as dull as they were important. He hoped Marko had a better head for them than his father.
There was a certain formality to the interaction, as befit their station. A necessary formality that superseded even cherished familial bonds. Hermann longed to reach out to his son, draw strength from the youthful virility, envelop his own sequestered soul in unconditional love. But he could not. Such displays of weakness were for the commoners. A nobleman—especially a ruler—never broke character.
As the questioning persisted, Hermann watched his son closely. What had started as evaluation slowly became appreciation, and a father’s pride warmly spread throughout his body. One by one the last reservations fell away. Marko seemed to have all the temperament and regal countenance Hermann could have hoped for. Moreover, just into his twenties, he would have the energy and resilience for what lay ahead.
But was he ready to be a king? It was time to find out.
Hermann laid out his plan. In most cases, he left no detail unspoken, for Marko needed to appreciate the minutia of decision-making. The monologue took less than ten minutes, for there was no interrupting, but there were certain to be questions at the end. Hermann would learn much about his successor based on how his eldest chose to present those questions.
The plan’s veneer came first. He began with the emperor’s departure, an announcement not yet publicized while each ruler figured out how to release the news with minimal disruption. The look on Marko’s face indicated surprise, but not dismay. That was a reassuring sign to Hermann, a better starting point for what came next.
“A messenger has already been sent to King Anton in Cormona, proposing a marriage between you and his daughter Letitia.” An eyebrow raised, but the prince otherwise kept his reactions in check. He had been raised well.
“I am dispatching your brother Nicolas as an ambassador of goodwill. He will conduct the final arrangements and provide the royal escort for the girl when she comes to Neublusten.
“The benefits of a union between Akenberg and Asturia are obvious. Acting in concert, we control the Emperor’s Council vote for the central kingdoms, which is now more important than ever with every province fighting to influence how the empire will change.
“What is more, we are about to find ourselves in open conflict with Lorester. War appears unavoidable under current circumst
ances, but if Akenberg gains an ally, Lorester will stand down.
“Weddings are always popular affairs. Our people will rejoice at the news. So will the Asturians. It will also portend a way out of their current…problems. Anton may be inclined to resist this offer, but it will be very difficult for him to refuse.
“It is also a sham.”
For the first time since the news of the emperor, Marko reacted. Not dramatically, but his muscles tightened and his eyes broke away momentarily, unable to match Hermann’s unwavering intensity.
“Following the emperor’s announcement, the Loresters approached us about an alliance. You will still have your wedding, but to King Maximil’s daughter Glacia instead. She is a far more suitable match.
“As you know, the Loresters have suffered mightily this harvest. They seek our food—and our protection. Without Eberhart as a bulwark, each province will be forced to fend for themselves. Lorester needs us. In exchange, they will willingly provide what soldiers they can for a joint attack on Asturia.
“We simply need to distract Anton while we mobilize. He and I have a history. He distrusts me.” And not without reason. “Asturia has spies in Akenberg that will warn him of preparations for war. He must believe those preparations are for war against the Loresters or he will take precautions against us.
“With Lorester by our side and Asturia under our heel, we will effectively control the central kingdoms. And the central kingdoms have always been in a strong position to dominate imperial politics. Our collective influence would certainly determine the next emperor. I intend for it to be you.”
He paused a moment for effect, studying Marko’s face intently. If his son was astounded by the declaration, or even pleased, it did not show.
Three of Swords (Empire Asunder Book 1) Page 1
