All that really mattered was that the empress was alive and well and that Amilia the Beloved was with her. Not all the news was welcome, however, as edicts declared dwarves and half-elves were to be recognized as full citizens of the empire. This touched off the Spring Riots in Colnora and Vernes, which Sir Breckton squelched with a contingent of imperial troops.
In the north, the realm of Melengar all but vanished. What the imperial invasion had not destroyed, the elves had. The young king Alric, who never married and had no heirs, did not return, nor did his sister. After more than seven hundred years, the line of Essendon ended, and it was Count Mauvin Pickering, now Imperial Governor Pickering, who returned to administrate the province of Melengar. By all accounts, he was a good and just man, and before long rumors of his marriage to Lady Alenda Lanaklin circulated.
The death of Archibald Ballentyne left the province of Chadwick vacant of a lord. The seat was replaced when the empress appointed Degan Gaunt earl. In her announcement speech, she said that the appointment was not only deserved but appropriate.
By Summersrule, heralds were crossing the empire shouting in every village about the news from New Percepliquis. The first buildings were standing on the mount at Amberton Lee, just enough to allow the empress to move her court, and she was using the holiday to celebrate the move and commemorate those who had given their lives to save the empire.
The games where held in the newborn city, which was little more than chalk and string outlines. Thousands came hoping to glimpse Sir Hadrian or Sir Breckton on the field, but neither entered the competition. Sir Renwick won top honors, unhorsing Sir Elgar in the final tilt.
The highlight of the celebration, however, was the marriage of Sir Breckton to Lady Amilia in a moonlight ceremony performed by Patriarch Merton. On the last day of the celebrations, Empress Modina made the startling announcement that she had adopted, as daughter and heir, the half-elf child Allie, henceforth to be known as the imperial crown princess Alliena Novronian.
The celebration lasted a full two weeks, and when it was over, the roads were filled with carts and wagons of soon-to-be-footsore travelers on their long journeys home. The hilltop at Amberton Lee, now officially renamed New Percepliquis, was once more filled with the sounds of hammers, chisels, and saws. Sheep grazed on the southern slope, and milk cows on the north.
As the sun began to set, lights appeared in the windows of the “palace”—a simple thirty-room blockhouse. It was the first of the dwarven constructions and designed to be servants’ quarters for stable hands and groundskeepers. For now it housed the whole of the imperial government.
On the front steps, which were broad and afforded a fine view from the hilltop, a small group gathered to watch the sunset and the approach of the imperial carriage.
“It really is coming along nicely,” Hadrian told the dwarf as he sat with his arm around Arista. He was dressed in a soft tunic and she in a comfortable blue linen dress. “It’s hard to imagine this is where I fought only four months ago.”
The now leveled land revealed tiers where buildings would be constructed partially into the sides of the hill. Huge blocks of stone marked corners that anchored string lines held in place with stakes that designated future walls, roads, and pathways. Most were rectangular, but some were octagonal or completely circular. Still others defied any description, looking haphazard and bewildering from their footprints in string.
“It’s beautiful,” Arista said.
“Bah! You can’t tell a thing yet!” Magnus scoffed. He tapped his temple. “If you could see what’s in here, then you could really appreciate it. This city will make the old one below us an embarrassment.” He looked out across the hill. “But it will take time—years—decades, really—but yes, it will be beautiful.”
The laughter of children blew in with the evening summer breeze as down the slope Allie and Mercy chased fireflies, where a holly tree stood and five boys once spent days in a tent they called the Hovel.
The carriage pulled to a stop, and when the door opened, the white-wigged chancellor Nimbus stepped out. He was dressed in his usual outlandish colors, and on his chest was the massive gold chain of his office. He smiled at Modina and Amilia and greeted them all with a sweep of his hand and a lavish bow.
“It’s about time you arrived,” Modina said, rising to meet him.
“Forgive me, Your Eminence,” he said, dusting himself off. “But there was a great deal to be done before blowing out the last candle in Aquesta.”
“How long will you be staying?” Amilia asked.
“I’m afraid not long. I’ve really only come to see what you’ve started here and to say goodbye.”
“I can’t believe you won’t stay. I don’t know how I will get along without you.”
“Alas, as I told Your Eminence in our correspondence, it really is time for me to move on. You have matters well in hand. New Percepliquis is coming along nicely. When I accepted this chain of office, we both knew it was temporary. I will be leaving in the morning.”