She knelt down and felt the gritty texture of a cold clump of dirt in her hand. Her father had loved the soil. He would break it up with his huge leathery fingers and smell it. He even tasted it. Field and farm had been his whole world, but they would not be hers.
“I know you meant well,” she said. “I know you believed. You thought you were standing up for me, protecting me, saving me. In some ways, you succeeded. You might have saved my life, but you did not save me. What fate might we have had if you hadn’t championed my cause? If you hadn’t become a martyr? If we stayed in Dahlgren, you could have found us a new home. The Bothwicks would have raised me as their own daughter. I would have carried wounds, but perhaps I would have known happiness again. Eventually. I could have been the wife of a farmer. I would have spun wool, pulled weeds, cooked turnips, raised children. I would have been strong for my family. I would have fought against wolves and thieves. Neighbors would say, She got that strength from the hardships of her youth. I could have lived a small, quiet life. But you changed all that. I’m not an innocent maid anymore. You hardened and hammered me into a new thing. I know too much. I’ve seen too much. And now I’ve killed.”
Modina paused and glanced up at the sky. There were only a few clouds on the field of blue, the kind of clear blue seen only on a crisp winter day.
“Perhaps the two paths really aren’t so different. Ethelred was just a wolf who walked like a man, and the empire is my family now.”
Placing a hand on the grave, she softly said, “I forgive you.” Then Modina stood and walked away, leaving behind the mound with the marker bearing the name Deacon Tomas.
The candles had burned down to nubs and still they were not through the list. Amilia’s eyes drooped and she fought the urge to lay her head down on the desk. She sat wrapped in a blanket with part of it made into a hood.
“Should we stop here and come back to it tomorrow?” she asked hopefully.
The empress shook her head. She was wearing the robe Mince had given her. Amilia had not seen her wear anything else since Modina had taken control of the empire. Other than on the night of the hawking feast, the empress had never donned the crown or mantle of her office. “I want to get through this last set tonight. I can’t afford to have these positions left vacant. Isn’t that right, Nimbus?”
“It would be best to settle on the remaining prefects, at least. If I may speak plainly, Your Eminence, you relieved over one-third of all office holders. If new ones are not appointed soon, the resulting void might give warlords an opportunity to exert authority and fracture the empire.”
“How many do we still have to go?” Modina asked.
Nimbus shuffled through parchments. “Ah, there are still forty-two vacant positions.”
“Too many. We have to finish this.”
“If only you hadn’t removed so many,” Amilia said in a tired voice.
Since taking power, Modina had worked tirelessly and demanded the same of her aides. The change in her was amazing. The once quiet, shy waif, who had sat before a window each day, had transformed into an empress, commanding and strong. She organized meetings of state, judged the accused, appointed new officials, and even demanded that Nimbus teach her letters and history.
Amilia admired her but regretted Modina’s dedication. With so much required of her, Amilia had only a few moments each day to spend with Sir Breckton. The secretary found herself strangely nostalgic for the hours they had spent imprisoned together.
Each day the empress, Nimbus, and Amilia met in Saldur’s old office. Modina insisted on working there because it contained numerous charts, maps, and scrolls. These imperial records were meticulously organized and provided details on all aspects of the kingdom. Not being able to read, Modina had to rely on Nimbus and Amilia to sift through the documents and find answers to her questions. Nimbus was a greater help than Amilia, but still Modina insisted on her presence.
“I just wish I could remove some of the nobles as well,” Modina said. “There are several kings and dukes that are as bad as Saldur. Saldur got King Armand of Alburn his throne through the assassination of King Reinhold, and I hate that he is rewarded for such treachery. Are you certain I can’t remove him?”
Nimbus cringed. “Technically you can. As empress and the descendant of Novron, you are semidivine and your authority is absolute to all those who call Maribor god. However, such notions are fine in theory, but you must function based on reality. A ruler’s power comes from the support and loyalty of her nobles. Offend enough of them and not only will they not obey you, they will almost certainly raise armies against you. Unless you are prepared to govern by the strength of Maribor’s will alone, I suggest we keep the ruling nobles, if not happy, at least content.”
Nimbus shifted in his seat. “A number of Ethelred and Saldur supporters are most likely preparing for a coup. Given the current situation, however, I am certain they are puzzled how best to proceed. For over a year the regents actively promoted you as empress and a goddess—supreme and infallible. Now that you actually wield power, it will take some creative manipulation to convince others to act against you. Finding allies won’t be easy, but they have some advantages. For instance, you are inexperienced and they expect you to make mistakes, which they will hope to exploit. The key is to avoid making any.”
Modina thought for a moment and then asked, “So although I am all powerful, I have to obey the nobles?”
“No, you merely have to keep them from wanting to get rid of you. You can do this in two ways. Keep them placated by providing things they want, such as wealth, power, and prestige. Or make the idea of opposing you more distasteful than bowing to you. Personally, I suggest doing both. Feed their egos and coffers, but build your base around loyal leaders. Men like Alric of Melengar would be a good start. He’s proven himself to be trustworthy, and you’ve already won his gratitude by saving his kingdom. Bolster his position by providing income through preferential trade agreements. Grow that seed of an alienated monarchy into an economic, political, and military ally. With powerful supporters, the nobles will not be so quick to attack you.”
“But Melengar isn’t even in the empire.”
“All the better. Those inside the empire will compete for power amongst themselves. Everyone on the ladder wants to be on a higher rung. Because Alric isn’t part of that ladder, no one will feel slighted when he receives preferential status. If you were to act similarly with a noble within the empire, you will generate resentment of that favoritism. You can proclaim aid to Melengar as prudent foreign affairs. By endorsing Alric, you’ll be building a supporter who won’t be easily assailable. And one who will be more grateful than those who consider it their due.”