“Summer, my head is hurting. How does it look?”
Summer gave the hand in hers a little squeeze. “It looks good. Much better. Do you see the sunset, Princess?”
Though her eyes did not open, Jena said, “Yes. It’s lovely.”
“Sleep now. Save your strength.”
“You’re right. Quite a fight coming.”
“Aye.”
“I can’t wait to see Father again. And the gardens. And Yohan, of course.”
As the last traces of light outside gave way to night, neither spoke. Summer assumed her friend was asleep. But in that moment of blindness while her eyes adjusted, she heard a sob. Then the weak, waning glimmer of the vulture spread its eerie light on Jena’s pained face.
“I need to see him again,” she said in a choking voice, so very uncharacteristic of the proud swordmaiden. “I need to hear him say he loves me… If he loves me. How could he? I don’t think I ever said a kind word to him. Not one.”
“His love for you shines like the stars, Jena. He told me so.”
One, two, three more sobs. Then they stopped. “Thank you, Summer.” The princess smiled.
In the pale red glow, Summer watched the taut cheeks loosen as a perpetual strain lifted. The face, beautiful once more, relaxed. So, too, did the fingers held tightly in Summer’s own.
She laid her dead friend’s hand gently on the harsh stone floor. Moon and stars, take her.
Summer fought back the tears, for she heard footsteps approaching. That could mean only one thing—the Archon returned. There was no time to mourn, for now her end had come, as well.
10
Cormona
Renard had always told his last pupil that he had the gift of knowing the right thing, and the strength to act upon it. Those words were often a source of pride to Nico, who allowed himself to believe that he had lived up to them more often than not.
Now he spent hours pondering Renard’s observations and their implications to this current, critical impasse. For once, the right thing utterly escaped him.
The others were no help, for no one but he saw the needs of the empire entire in quite the same terms. Akenberg would win this confrontation, eventually, and that was victory enough. If Asturians suffered in the process, that was simply their own fault.
Nico tried to see it that way, too. This was war, after all, and war always brought suffering. One way or another, he could bring the Asturians to heel. A siege might be lengthy, but the heaviest costs would fall on the enemy, army and civilian. An assault would be much faster, at the price of lives on both sides. Either option would lead to Akenberg’s hard-fought victory in this battle between the kingdoms.
But victory alone would not do. Following what he had witnessed for himself at Allstatte, and heard through the messenger about Vilnia, every capable soldier needed to be deployed east or west against demon or Chekik. As Arturo once told him, there was no room for petty squabbles, no capacity for wasted lives.
The Asturians could not simply be brought to heel. Nico not only needed a surrender; he needed an ally. Asturian blades must be turned against other foes, not sheathed, and not buried with their owners. He needed both kingdoms to see this struggle not as neighbor versus neighbor, but as empire against annihilation.
Later, while discussing this point with Generals Koblenzar and Freilenn, Nico received vastly different responses. Freilenn was sympathetic, open to further discussion, though unconvinced the plan in place was insufficient.
Koblenzar, by contrast, became increasingly agitated in behavior and speech with every suggestion. “We have an unbreakable position. Certain victory lies ahead, and you wish to change that?” Nico practically expected to hear “foolish boy” added to the end.
He did not argue with the more experienced general, however, for he knew the man had a point. Freilenn articulated the idea clearly. “Third, a perfect resolution is rarely attainable in warfare, and a good commander must know when good is good enough.”
The guard, Leny, appeared at the entrance. She whispered something to Lima, who ducked out for a moment before reappearing. “Lord Jacinto returns, with a new offer.”
Koblenzar grinned. “I told you so.”
Nico and Freilenn exchanged a look. It was certainly possible the leader of the Asturians had at last recognized the irresponsibility of his stance and had come to reason. But the naked hostility and callous indifference of the dignitary had been so remarkable, they dared not get hopeful.
Still, there was no harm in listening. After his previous intractability, any movement at all would be an improvement.
“Preposterous,” Koblenzar said.
“I concur,” Freilenn agreed. “This is foolish.”
And there it was, just as Renard always said.
“I’m of a mind to consider this,” Nico said, choosing his words carefully. “But I must be sure of the terms.”
“Let us be quick, then, Young King. I dislike the stench of your camp.” Jacinto wiggled his nose for emphasis.
Nico ignored the theatrics. The offer was the only thing that mattered.
The first words from the man’s mouth had made Nico’s heart race. I speak to you not as King of Akenberg, but as Third of the Order of Swordthanes…
As you are aware, Cormona is proud to have our own thane.
Let us allow honor and skill determine the fate of this conflict.
“I will get your vote on the Council?” Nico asked, repeating the terms the man himself had offered.
“The loser will vote with the winner,” Jacinto clarified. “The duel is not yet fought.”
“And our forces integrated beneath one command? Asturia will fight beside Akenberg?”
“For the duration of this conflict, yes. Nothing is forever.”
“Hmm.” Is that the trick? Was this where Jacinto hoped to fox his way out of obligation?
If so, Nico did not believe that would work. A Third drew a great deal of respect from the soldiers and people, regardless of where he was from. Once the armies were combined and grew used to following one leader, it would be difficult indeed to split them apart.
He could see, however, what Jacinto got out of this arrangement. It gave his side a fighting chance, and himself the possibility of surrender without shame.
At some point in the future, even shy, stuttering Prince Tobias would be old and confident enough to demand his throne. When that day approached, a power struggle would ensue, and a disgraced Lord Jacinto would have poorer prospects than one who had saved his people from the hardships of siege and battle.
And when the time came, Nico knew who he would support, for he felt a bond near kinship with Leti’s little brother. To say nothing of the love he felt for Leti herself. One way or another, their family would go on ruling Asturia as long as Nico had any influence on events.
Jacinto sighed. “There will, of course, be those who object.” That this man could suddenly play the role of the reasonable one, pretending to be in favor of unity against those who opposed, was a testament to his diplomatic skills, no doubt highly developed through years of pretense and manipulation. “That is why the outcome must be...final. If there is any doubt…”
He was speaking, of course, of withdrawal. This man, like others of his generation, had no understanding of the code between Swordthanes. In a bout of such import, the loser would fight to the death. It needed no further discussion.
Nico could refuse the offer, naturally. A year had not passed since his last bout, the requisite time after which a thane was compelled by the Order to defend his title. But there was also no reason he could not accept.
“Madness,” Koblenzar said. “You cannot consider this.”
Freilenn leaned in. “Third, we need not treat them as equals here. We have every advantage.”
Nico recalled the moment he had met the brash Asturian thane, in the dueling chamber of Anton’s castle. A fight had nearly broken out then, as the man insulted both Toby and Nico with unwarranted v
itriol. Then Leti had sent the man back to his quarters.
The weak, indolent man, whose fondness for drink had gotten the better of him…
“Very well,” Nico said. “Swordthane Zenza is to come to the center point between the armies. Alone.” Remembering the debacle with Pim and Gornada, Nico would allow no trickery or mistakes.
Jacinto’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth opened in retort, but Koblenzar’s outburst put an abrupt end to the discussion.
“Get out!” He yelled at the dignitary. “End this foolishness now.” His wrath was such that even Jacinto’s refined expression lost all composure, and the fear of physical harm drove him out faster than his age should have allowed.
Even before the man was gone, Koblenzar faced his king. “I have watched you blunder through one victory after another, but this is too far. Someday your luck will run out, and Akenberg will suffer the consequences.”
“General, I have always allowed disagreement in my presence, but there are limits to what you can say to your king.” In the back of his mind, Nico knew there was truth in the accusations, but this was not the way to present them.
“My king…bah. A good king cares for his own people. I see now that your desire to be emperor exceeds all else.”
“I’ll remind you, General, that you were in favor of—”
“I thought it would bring prestige to Akenberg, but you care nothing for us. Just like your father, you care only for your own ambitions.”
“I am not my father, General. How can you—”
“You’re more alike than you know, Nicolas. Power and glory, at any price.” Koblenzar began to calm down, though his words still stabbed at Nico’s wounded pride. At first the clumsy blows of a mace, now they were the practiced cuts of a dagger. “You rule as if you’re already emperor, yet with any justice you never will be.”
The attacks were fast and furious, but Nico was used to fighting back. “You’re wrong, Koblenzar. Power and glory mean nothing to me. You never took our Order seriously. Our code. Honor is everything.”
Koblenzar snorted. “Honor? If there was any honor in this world, your family would be gone from it.”
“General, return to Neublusten. You are dismissed. Again.”
The part of Nico where the anger raged hoped that the other man would draw his sword and attempt a strike. That part was disappointed as the outburst ended, and the sad old figure left the headquarters without another word.
He left Nico shaking with doubt and confusion.
“He’s wrong, Third.” Freilenn spoke quietly, yet the calm authority that served him so well as an officer remained. “You are nothing like your father.”
“Am I not? Am I not putting others ahead of my own people?”
“Nay. What’s best for the empire is what’s best for your people, for without one there cannot be the other. You saw this before anyone, but I see it now. And others will, too.”
“I thought Koblenzar and my father were friends. Why does he hate us? What has my family done?” This was an inquiry Nico knew he should have pursued long before now. Yet he had always told himself that he was different, so the answers did not matter. Or perhaps he was simply afraid to hear them.
Freilenn paused, taking the time to formulate his words. “Your father always placed more value on consequence than act.”
“Speak freely. You cannot upset me more than I am.”
“Very well. Hermann was not born to the throne, as you know. The man was as common as the name. Loyal clerk to the Landgrave of Braden principality. The landgrave was a drunkard, and allowed his clerk greater responsibility than the norm. And when the landgrave died of overindulgence, Hermann himself assumed the title at Hern Walkenson’s behest. The principality thrived, and the baron relied more and more often on your father’s capable hands. Until the hern died, in a tragic house fire. Without an heir, so King Friederich elevated Hermann once more.
“You know where this ends, and I make no accusations. In any case, Hermann was always a thoughtful man. A careful man. Not to mention a reliable worker with a reputation for helping everyone who asked. By the time King Friederich and his sons died in their unfortunate boating accident, Hermann had the vocal support of the other nobles. There were a few dukes who could easily have staked claims, but they thoughtfully deferred to your father.
“And he was a good king, as far as Akenberg was concerned. Our neighbors may not agree.” Freilenn took a deep breath before continuing. “Particularly Asturia. King Anton had followed a similar path from commoner to crown. His ascension, however, was not so smooth.
“Some within Asturia opposed Anton’s claim. Others, like our Lord Jacinto, supported it. This kingdom was thrown into chaos and conflict. King Hermann saw that weakness as an opportunity, and marched in with the Akenberg army. I was a captain at the time; I remember it well.”
“We just invaded Asturia for no reason?” Nico asked.
“Well, as to that, Hermann made an atavistic claim to Lambon and the whole of Krankensheim. We marched in ‘for the defense and security of the people.’ Understand, Third, your father was neither the first nor last to do this. I’d guess most land that’s changed hands was taken with similar justifications.
“Naturally, Anton was too weak to oppose Hermann. He owed a debt of gratitude to Jacinto, who won a king as his ally but lost his own land in the process.”
Freilenn paused, remembering the original question and the root of this story. “Your father was a good king, as I say, but he had many enemies. And no friends. Men like Koblenzar stayed with him because he rewarded them, but when the king allowed you to cashier the general, that pretense came to an end.”
“I see. Thank you, General. It’s a part of history—my kingdom’s and my family’s—that I should have learned before now.”
He was about to dismiss the officer, but the man stepped closer and put a comforting hand on Nico’s shoulder. “Koblenzar is wrong. You’ve never blundered, not that I’ve seen. He simply sees the world differently.”
One glance outside showed that night had fallen. “General, please see to the deployments. I think we should prepare for the siege until we know for certain there is no treachery. And get some sleep.”
“Aye, Third. You, too.”
His departure left the headquarters quiet. But not empty. Lima and Pim were both there. Watching, or perhaps watching over.
He asked them to leave him then, uncertain quite what he meant. And when they obeyed, he contemplated the meaning of being alone. He stood at the cutaway window for a time, staring at the walls of Cormona and the lights beyond. Then, at last, he returned to work.
When Lima reentered the headquarters an hour later, he was surprised to see her. “What are you doing up?” he asked.
She laughed. “You told me to return at midnight.”
“Did I? Well, I’m happy you did. What is the Lorester expression, ‘Duty never ceases?’”
“Aye, Third. And nay, Third, it does not.”
“Ask, Lima.” He could see she had something on her mind.
“Do you really believe he—Lord Jacinto, that is—will follow through on his promise? That the Asturians will obey your orders after the morrow?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it? Or one of them. He may not want to, but his hands will be tied. The people will have witnessed the duel for themselves. In grand spectacle. That is no easy thing to ignore.”
“You hate spectacle.”
“I do. But it sometimes has its uses.” Nico recalled the fight against Arturo, which he never would have won without the boisterous support of the crowd.
Or without my father poisoning the opponent. If there is any justice, I will lose this fight.
Nico knew better than to continue that line of thought. There were too many events that required his attention, too many preparations to complete.
He tossed a sheaf of papers to his aide. She glanced at them, then frowned. “Is this really the time?”
Ple
ased by the speed of her cognition, he merely stood and reapproached the window. The cloudless sky was well lit by the moon and stars, all the beautiful constellations shining on the world below.
He smiled at the vivid mental image that struck him. “Do you remember when I first made you my aide, after the battle just over there?”
“Of course.”
“You could barely read then. I knew that, and was unsure about my decision. Have I ever told you how pleased I am how it turned out?”
“Many times, Third. I tire of hearing it.”
He chuckled. “Pim, too. I wouldn’t be here if not for the two of you. And Mickens. And Renard.”
Nico looked wistfully outward a while longer. “I thought of this place as home, once. You know?”
She said nothing, so he went on. “That dream is dead.”
“It needn’t be. They’ll follow you, after the duel.”
He shook his head. “It isn’t the same. I thought… I thought it might be, but it isn’t.”
Then he pried his eyes away from the distant castle, and his thoughts back to the matters at hand. “Your pardons, Lima. Just fanciful musings before a duel. They always come, but they’re brief.”
Lima joined him at the aperture. He wondered what she saw as she looked. Something different than he. A much different world.
“It’s getting brighter.”
“What’s that?”
“The star.”
“Get your head out of the clouds, woman. We have enough problems down here.”
“Why are you allowed to muse, and I’m not?”
“Benefits of being king. Get some sleep, Lima.”
“You, too, Nico.”
“Nicolas the Great! Nicolas the Great!”
The adoration of the crowd always made him feel uncomfortable. But never more so than this morn, coming so soon on the heels of Koblenzar’s accusations of ambition and pretension.
At the same time, Nico truly loved the soldiers who followed him, and their respect meant nearly as much to him as the honor for which he constantly strived. He could not help but feel both inspired and humbled by the display of reverence they showed him now.
Empire Asunder BoxSet Page 71
