Wintertide (The Riyria Revelations #5)

“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 Thomas.





***

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 the night of the hawking feast, the empress 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 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 Nimbus teach her letters and history.

Amilia admired her but regretted Modina’s dedication. With so much required of her, Amilia only had a few moments each day to spend with Sir Breckton. The secretary found herself strangely nostalgic for the hours they 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 the regents. 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 descendent of Novron, you are semi-divine 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 certainly 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, and they have some other 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 already inside 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 one of your own nobles, 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.”

“But won’t this be expensive? Where will I get the funds? The people are already suffering under a heavy tax,” the empress said.

“I would suggest meeting with the DeLurs. They generally operate outside official channels, but offering them legitimacy can provide mutual benefit. Given recent events with the Ba Ran Ghazel in Delgos, Cornelius DeLur in particular should be most receptive to a proposal of imperial protection.”

“I’ve been thinking about Cornelius DeLur quite a bit lately. Do you think I should appoint him as Trade Secretary?”

Nimbus smiled, started to speak, paused, and then eventually said, “I think that might be a little too much like placing a drunk in charge of a tavern, but you’re thinking along the proper lines. Perhaps a better choice might be to appoint him Prefect of Colnora. Until recently, it was a merchant-run city, so recognizing this officially would go a long way toward good relations with merchants in general and the DeLurs in particular. Best of all, it won’t cost you anything.”