Valkyrie's Shadow

Empire in Chains: Act 5, Chapter 5

Empire in Chains: Act 5, Chapter 5

Chapter 5

“What’s this?”

“A birthday cake?”

Lady Zahradnik frowned at the object on the table before her. Frianne watched the exchange from where she was seated beside Dimoiya.

“It’s a bit late,” Lady Gagnier said, “but it can’t be helped, yes? We should be thankful that your next assignment had you come through Arwintar on the way to the Wyvernmark.”

“For how long have you all been plotting this?” Lady Zahradnik asked.

“Rather than ‘plotting’,” Lady Gagnier answered, “it should be expected? It’s your birthday, so we’re getting together to celebrate.”

“It’s not necessary,” Lady Zahradnik replied. “I’ve never celebrated my birthday before.”

Lady Zahradnik’s frown spread to Lady Gagnier, who looked over at Lady Corelyn.

“You’ve never celebrated her birthday before?”

Lady Corelyn shifted over to wrap an arm around Lady Zahradnik’s shoulder. The Baroness put on a look one might find on a petulant child.

“Oh, we have,” the Countess said, “but Ludmila and her entire family were about as dense as a platinum brick. Or maybe it’s just that stoic stubbornness of theirs. A combination of the two is likely. Every year, we congratulated her with a cake before they returned to Warden’s Vale. She split it up evenly with her family and the people that came with them, then they quietly ate it. You’d think it was their last meal.”

“Come to think of it,” Lady Wagner leaned back on her wrists, “She missed mine because she was sweeping the Upper Reaches after that invasion. Then she missed Florine’s because of the Azerlisia thing…well, we’re doing it every year from now on. No objections!”

Unlike the grand celebration one might expect for an eligible young noblewoman, Countess Corelyn and her friends had gathered in a humble affair. They were all seated on the floor around a low table in the living room of their suite in the Mithril Market Inn. There was no public display of wealth, influence and prestige: it was simply a gathering of close friends.

That Frianne and Dimoiya had been invited made her a bit itchy, a bit happy and overall not quite sure if she should be present. It was only a few weeks since they had met, after all.

“If you insist…” Lady Zahradnik’s frown deepened, “but I’d at least like to point out that the sigil of House Zahradnik is a raven, not a chicken.”

“It’s not a chicken,” Lady Wagner frowned back, “it’s a Dragon. Y’know…‘cause you just beat one?”

Official news of the Second Legion’s victory had reached the Court Council several days previous, but the information had been suppressed to keep it from reaching the public too quickly. Gossip and rumours, however, would still make a few details common knowledge in Arwintar within a month. In the meantime, the central administration was working frantically to get ahead of the factions that would surely manoeuvre for economic advantage in the freshly-opened frontier.

For Lady Zahradnik’s part, she looked entirely unscathed and entirely unenthused by her accomplishment. If Frianne hadn’t known any better, she might have assumed that nothing out of the ordinary had happened at all. Frianne frowned as she looked at the frowning Frontier Noble: maybe it was nothing out of the ordinary for her.

“The staff at DEATH BREAD was surprised that we requested one,” Lady Corelyn said. “They were pleased that we came to them, of course, but I don’t think they had any experience in making something like this. Don’t be too judgemental.”

High Nobles going to a bakery in the slums for a birthday cake. Frianne didn’t have anything against their venture, but it was certainly unheard of for imperial aristocrats.

“Yeah!” Lady Wagner seconded her best friend, “We’re showing our support, so stop frowning us. Leave your grumpity grumping for your fellow grumps in the Imperial Army. Did you visit the shops out there, by the way?”

“I went to the ones in Enz and Norford,” Lady Zahradnik said, “Ilyshn’ish has been visiting them every day.”

“Who’s that?” Dimoiya asked.

“Ludmila’s Dragon,” Lady Wagner answered. “She’s been travelling around the Empire with one of the Sorcerous Kingdom’s Merchants.”

“…I didn’t know Dragons ate bread.”

How were cities not being driven into mass panic with a Dragon coming to purchase food from a bakery? As far as Frianne knew, there had been no reports about any incidents along those lines.

“Dragons can eat anything,” Lady Zahradnik said, “but Ilyshn’ish prefers meat. She’s been ordering meat pies from DEATH BREAD every day. Speaking of Ilyshn’ish, she had dozens of agents from different imperial factions following her around. I sent them your way.”

“Whose way?”

Lady Zahradnik pointed at each of the other Nobles from the Sorcerous Kingdom in turn.

“They’ve returned to their houses to prepare comprehensive proposals. Once they’re done, they should be arranging for visits to the Sorcerous Kingdom. I told them they would be accommodated at Castle Corelyn…that’s what you wanted me to do, right?”

“Yes, that’s a part of what it’s for,” Lady Corelyn replied. “As for everything else, I think the three of us can handily manage. Plus, the entire duchy is trying to forge new trade partnerships, so they’ll receive a warm welcome.”

“You don’t plan on keeping all those connections to yourselves?” Dimoiya asked, “If your faction becomes the primary economic connection between the Empire and the Sorcerous Kingdom, you’ll have all the influence here that you could want.”

In the Empire, it was what any sensible Noble would do. At least when it came to foreign relations. Domestic affairs were carefully monitored and balanced for the sake of stability, but bringing wealth and prosperity to the Empire from abroad was another matter entirely. As long as the domestic gains fuelled by foreign wealth and influence did not represent a tangible threat to the imperial throne, the aristocracy was encouraged to pursue such ventures without limit.

Frianne wasn’t certain how the Royal Court of the Sorcerous Kingdom regulated its internal affairs, but she couldn’t imagine them seeing any of their Nobles as a threat to power. Additionally, the Court Council would be highly averse to interfering with the business of its citizens if the Empire’s suzerain was on the other end of that business.

It was an enviable position for any Noble, and a troubling issue for the Court Council – especially if that business ran counter to imperial policy or even imperial law. They wouldn’t dare lodge a protest with the Royal Court of the Sorcerous Kingdom: at most, an advisory or notification worded in the most inoffensive manner possible would be issued.

“I understand that it’s still difficult to grasp,” Lady Corelyn said, “but our circumstances are far removed from those of aristocrats in Re-Estize or Baharuth. Representing the nation’s interests as a whole not only aligns with our goals but also provides orders of magnitude more leverage in our dealings. In our service to His Majesty, progress and prosperity come to all. What our houses gain is so much more than we could ever hope to personally accomplish.”

“Surely there must be a limit,” Frianne said. “To be certain, the productive potential of the Sorcerous Kingdom makes the ceiling that much higher, but it will inevitably happen. Land and resources are limited; trade flows must be balanced. At some point, someone is going to decide that there isn’t enough for everyone and act accordingly.”

“That’s where we differ,” Lady Wagner told her. “Florine, Clara and I are from Merchant houses. Regular Nobles think that owning land and having wealth is the be-all end-all, but we know that prosperity is better. The Sorcerous Kingdom has the power to protect everything that we build – all we have to do is build it…and that’s what we’re best at.”

Frianne’s gaze went to and from the faces at the table until it eventually settled on Lady Zahradnik. Neatly packaged within Countess Corelyn’s faction was everything required to project the interests of the Sorcerous Kingdom to foreign lands. Their visit to the Empire had definitively proven this and Frianne was under no illusion that they had come anywhere close to the limit of what they were capable of. Between them, they could probably bring a nation back from the brink of total annihilation and set it solidly on a course to a new golden age.

Their conversation drifted away from more serious subjects to what one might expect of the unique group of young, well-to-do women. When evening fell, Frianne and Dimoiya returned to the First-class District. While Dimoiya returned home, Frianne’s destination was the Imperial Palace.

She went by the guards at the entrance and through the arches of the main atrium, steps echoing off of the columns and walls. Her journey brought her past the public areas and to the inner palace. A familiar face greeted her at the entrance of the Imperial Harem.

“Lady Frianne.”

“Officer Anoch,” Frianne returned her smile. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help with your brother.”

The youngest daughter of House Anoch made a face. It didn’t much match the resplendent uniform of the White Silver Imperial Guard.

“There has to be something wrong with his head,” Selene Anoch muttered. “What could he possibly have reservations over with those four?”

“If things weren’t that bad,” Frianne replied, “he wouldn’t still be single.”

“We’re gonna have to step up our efforts,” Selene sighed. “I wonder how much enchanted mithril chains cost…oh, if you’re here for His Imperial Majesty, he’s having dinner with Roxy at the moment.”

Selene waited for another member of the Imperial Guard to arrive and take her place before leading Frianne through the cloistered courtyards and gardens of the Imperial Harem. The sentries and occasional patrols – who were of course all women – stationed throughout the complex nodded in polite greeting as Frianne was guided deeper inside.

“How has he been doing?” Frianne asked.

“Much better now,” Selene said. “He’s still not his old self, but His Imperial Majesty really turned around once that little fuzzy guy started showing up. I don’t know what they get up to, but there’s a joke going around that he’s been replacing lost hairs.”

If there was a joke like that circulating around the harem, then the Emperor must have been positively jovial. Jircniv’s physical and mental health had been on the decline ever since the appearance of the Sorcerer King. It was to the point that the Imperial Dynasty worried that he was on his way to an early grave.

They stopped at the bottom of the stairs leading to one of the buildings in the inner harem. Selene nodded to Lady Rockbruise, who was standing guard at the door. She disappeared into the building for several minutes before coming back out again to escort Frianne inside.

Every building in the Imperial Harem was effectively a manor of its own, each furnished by the houses who sent their daughters to serve the imperial throne. This particular building was an exception, however, as Roxy was not from an aristocratic house, but a commoner.

In a harem filled with women chosen for their beauty and social status, Roxy was the only one who might be called ‘not beautiful’. Despite her low station and lack of feminine charm compared to the other concubines, she was the Emperor’s favourite and the closest thing the Baharuth Empire had to an Empress.

As if in testament to the Empire’s meritocratic ideals, Roxy was a woman chosen for her intelligence and administrative talent. This intelligence came with certain eccentricities, however.

Foremost amongst them was the fact that, while she was one of the Emperor’s concubines, she had no real interest in giving birth to the next sovereign of the Baharuth Empire. Rather than that, she encouraged Jircniv to have children with the other concubines. Her assertion was that certain things – such as good looks, Talents and aptitudes that might be inherited through one’s blood – could not be trained. Roxy was confident that she could take those unpolished stones and refine them into excellent candidates for the imperial throne.

At a distinctly small, plain-looking dining table, Jircniv Rune Farlord El-Nix, Emperor of the Baharuth Empire, sat across from his favourite. He looked towards Frianne as she entered the dining room, motioning for her to come forward.

“Frianne,” he said with a rare, genuine smile, “please join us. We’ve just gotten started.”

“You seem in high spirits, Your Imperial Majesty.”

“Is that so?” Her cousin’s smile did not fade, “I suppose that I am. Let’s dispense with dreary formalities. Leinas, you may leave us.”

Frianne exchanged looks with Roxy, who seemed to shrug with a helpless look. She took a seat as the concubine went to retrieve another dish.

“Though I risk fouling my good humour,” Jircniv said, “I must ask how you’ve been faring with those visitors from the Sorcerous Kingdom. The reports to the Court Council have been markedly subdued. Ah – try and spare my stomach, please.”

“Then I should preface this by saying that no amount of preparation could have properly readied me for the experience. I would not have believed most of what I presently know as my past self.”

The Emperor nodded quietly with a look of grim introspection.

“So you understand,” he said. “By the reports, they seem Human enough, but I can’t imagine what sort of monsters they might have sent our way. Now, what didn’t you mention in your reports? The old men might expect the safe and sterile accounts of a new aide, but I know your grandmother taught you better than that.”

“They came and did exactly as I reported,” Frianne replied. “What happened along the way probably would have been dismissed as inconsequential by the Court Council.”

“Damn,” Jircniv sighed. “So that Undead monster’s already targeting our weaknesses. I knew those reports from Kabein conveyed more than they appeared, but I didn’t want to consider it. The information from the Second Legion about that liaison officer and her activities indicates the same thing.”

“House Zahradnik was on your ‘keep’ list for the Duchy of E-Rantel, wasn’t it? For the exact reason that they would easily integrate with the Imperial Army. The other three houses were to be retained for their excellent capabilities, too, if I recall correctly.”

Jircniv grimaced before gulping down his wine. His napkin lingered on his lips as he digested their discourse.

“Now it feels like he’s rubbing these Nobles we should have taken with E-Rantel in our faces. No, I doubt it’s anything so petty. Did they focus on anything in particular while they inspected Arwintar? Something they took issue with, perhaps?”

“They showed next to no interest in our bureaucratic processes,” Frianne replied. “Considering their Prime Minister’s excellence, we’re probably nothing by comparison. I suppose what they were most intense about were the same things my grandmother takes issue with. Overall, they seem concerned about the imbalanced focus that comes with our pace of development.”

“Ugh, that does sound like your grandmother. Are they trying to hinder the Empire’s progress? There’s still so much that the previous Emperors set in motion that needs to be finished before we neatly wrap it all up with a pretty ribbon. Any ‘culture’ we focus on will only become obsolete in a generation or two while the stopgap measures we have in place threaten to fly apart in the transition.”

From a purely bureaucratic perspective, her cousin’s point was valid. Altering their course at the current juncture of the Empire’s broad reformation would exact exponentially increasing costs. In Jircniv’s opinion, meandering when they were merely halfway through was not an option: they needed to push for their goals as quickly as possible to maximise efficiency and curtail the risk of issues that might develop due to the incomplete changes to the nation.

Frianne, however, did not believe that the pursuit of bureaucratic reforms and the cultivation of imperial culture were mutually exclusive efforts. Rather than that, it was something that needed to be done hand in hand.

“The army seems to keep up,” Frianne pointed out.

“Because an Imperial Knight gets eaten by a monster if they deny reality,” the Emperor said. “If we start promoting ‘culture’ with those other Nobles, they’ll start pining for their old glory days even more than they already do. Those idiots never learn – distancing ourselves from those useless, antiquated traditions will be to our advantage when we finally do address the cultural concerns that lie at the end of our path.”

“What about Frianne’s treatise?” Roxy offered, “I think it holds great merit.”

“Oh, are you two ganging up on me now?” Jircniv raised an eyebrow, “Then I’ll give you the same answer that I gave Frianne: the proposal is excellent if one only considers its potential to increase our national power. However, it also increases the power of the nobility. We’ve been working to break down their influence, not build it up. Unless you can somehow guarantee that every civilian house will be as loyal as our martial houses, filling the ranks of the aristocracy with mages is just asking for trouble. It’s better to raise mages without annoying dynastic ties and…history.”

Frianne sighed inwardly, but she knew better than to push too hard. Her cousin was a man who had risen to prominence by asserting absolute dominance. He would only delegate power to those he could trust and that trust only went as far as he could reign them in.

She sometimes wondered if the reason why the Empire was so deficient in its cultural aspects was that they, too, were often beyond the control of the throne. Had the Emperors of old purposely acted to minimise the influence of those ‘problematic’ aspects for the same reason? What would a society that developed around a figure of absolute power and his supporting mechanisms look like? For some reason, she did not think it would be as wonderful as many thought.

Still, that Jircniv was beginning to show the fires of his old ambition again could only be taken as a good thing; the Empire needed its Emperor to lead them once again.

“Well, that’s enough of that,” Jircniv said. “After weeks of dealing with these ‘representatives’, what do you believe they’ll report to their masters? Any sign of ‘recommendations’ that might precipitate further change in the Empire?”

“They’ve made reassurances that the Sorcerous Kingdom has no desire to infringe upon our autonomy in a harmful manner,” Frianne replied. “Any changes that might come our way will address the overarching concerns of their hegemony. In the event that such changes are demanded of us, I believe that continuing to defer to our suzerain will be for the best. Compliance may mean that we will be able to continue to work with Human representatives. At the worst, loyalty is our best defence.”

“Assuming that the Sorcerer King ever intended to use them again in the first place,” Jircniv said. “I wouldn’t be surprised if they were simply sent here to sniff out what they could before being replaced by an Undead functionary. Though there’s still the operation with the Sixth Legion…with how the Second Legion’s work turned out, the Sixth Legion is probably facing a giant mess right about now.”

“How do you mean?”

“Competition,” Jircniv said. “The Second Legion is now filled with Dragonslayers who are swimming in plunder. The Sixth Legion is filled with ambitious young men looking to make their mark on the Empire. There’s no way that they won’t take the Second Legion’s achievements as a challenge to surpass.”

“…do you think that this was done on purpose?”

The Emperor snorted.

“Of course it was. You probably didn’t realise it back then, but I’m sure you do now. The Sixth Legion and its supporters tried to play the Sorcerous Kingdom and they got played right back – no, it was worse than that. The task to get rid of that Dragon Lord…the Sorcerer King’s countermove was already staring them in the face before they made their move; he knew what the result would be and the effect it would have on the Sixth Legion. Now, General Gregan and his command are up to their eyeballs in overeager idiots.”

“Shouldn’t something be done about that?”

“Before asking that question,” Jircniv told her, “you should be considering what the objective of the Sorcerous Kingdom is in doing this.”

Frianne’s mind for military matters was limited; any credible speculation she could make lay on the civilian side of things. Even so, the potential outcomes branched out in so many different directions that it was difficult to settle on any of them.

The Emperor smirked at her silence, swirling the wine in his bejewelled silver goblet.

“No matter what we do,” he told her, “they will get the answers that they are looking for. The Empire has already become a stage prepared and set; we are but puppets on strings dancing in the palm of the Sorcerer King’s hand. There is no choice but to go along with the performance we are being made to play out. As your grandmother would say: it is what it is.”