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IN MEMORIAM
To my father, the consummate legalist
MAIN CHARACTERS
Laureous Imperador
Laureous II Heir to the Imperador
Delehya Youngest child and daughter of Laureous, from his second wife
Gunnar Solatiem First Marshal
Haeltyn Kaahl High Justicer
Prudhyr Fraenk Imperial Administrator of Agriculture
Taeryl Laergaan Imperial Administrator of Commerce
Tybaalt Salaazar Imperial Administrator of the Treasury
Engar Tyresis Imperial Administrator of Waterways
Carsius Zaenn Imperial Administrator of Natural Resources
Iustaan Detruro Premier, and Councilor from Enke
Luaro Maatrak Floor Leader, and Councilor from Ondeliew
Dominic Ysella Councilor from Aloor, Chairman of Waterways Committee
Chaarls Aashen Councilor from Sudaen, Agriculture Committee
Alaaxi Baertyl Councilor from Veerlyn, Military Affairs Committee
Paolo Caanard Councilor from Point Larmat, Chairman of Foreign Affairs Committee
Astyn Coerl Councilor from Tryar, Waterways Committee
Haamlyn Commodus Councilor from Kathaar, Commerce Committee
Symeon Daenyld Councilor from Neewyrk, Chairman of Military Affairs Committee
Gaastyn Ditaero Councilor from Endor, Waterways Committee
Alaan Escalante Councilor from Silverhills, Military Affairs Committee
Dannyl Grieg Councilor from Whulte, Waterways Committee
Sammal Haafel Councilor from Nuile, Agriculture Committee
Aksyl Haarst Councilor from Suvion, Commerce Committee
Oskaar Klempt Councilor from Vhooryn, Chairman of Commerce Committee
Aldyn Kraagyn Councilor from Encora, Justiciary Committee
Eduardo Maalkyn Councilor from Hyarh, Commerce Committee
Haans Maessyn Councilor from Uldwyrk, Waterways Committee
Stefan Nortaak Councilor from Oersynt, Waterways Committee
Voltar Paastyn Councilor from Zeiryn, Waterways Committee
Georg Raathan Councilor from Gaarlak, Chairman of Agriculture Committee
Graandeyl Raendyr Councilor from Obaan, Commerce Committee
Ahslem Staeryt Councilor from Machtarn, Chairman of Justiciary Committee
Stron Thaalyr Councilor from Eshbruk, Chairman of Natural Resources Committee
Lyaard Khaard Senior Clerk for Ysella
Paatyr Jaasn Junior Clerk for Ysella
PROLOGUE
Machtarn—34 Springfirst 812
DOMINIC Mikail Ysella stepped from the rented coach and surveyed the Council Hall, a modestly imposing gray stone building, with an accompanying building holding stables, the two being the only structures for more than a hundred yards in any direction on Council Avenue. Unsurprising, given that it had only been recently completed. Close to a mille to the north, beyond the Way of Gold, stood the gates to the Imperador’s Palace. Ysella’s left hand momentarily dropped to the grip of the short truncheon at his waist, concealed largely by his bluish-gray suit coat. He glanced back over his shoulder to the south, toward the bulk of the city and the harbor beyond, then shook his head. Machtarn might be the capital of the Imperium of Guldor, but it wasn’t that much larger than Aloor, or Aloor as it had once been, and was certainly less cosmopolitan than old Aloor—before the Imperador Laureous leveled half of it.
Ysella looked to the coachman. “I might be a while.”
“I’ll be here, Ritter.”
Ysella managed not to offer an amused smile at the title that had come with his election to the Council, a title already held by his older brothers, solely because they inherited or would inherit sufficient lands. He walked to the arches framing the entrance to the Council Hall, where two guards in pale green uniforms stood.
“Sir?” inquired one, politely.
“I’m the new councilor-elect from Aloor.”
The other guard gestured and, when a youth in a gold and red uniform appeared, said, “Escort the councilor-elect to the Premier’s office.” The guard then turned back. “All new councilors get their pins and credentials there.”
“Thank you.” Ysella followed the messenger from the entry foyer down a wide hallway to a green marble archway, beyond which was an anteroom with several desks. Behind each desk sat a clerk in a forest-green military tunic. The messenger guided Ysella to an older clerk at the leftmost desk.
“Sir, do you have your election warrant?”
“I do.” Ysella extracted the long leather wallet from his inside jacket pocket, removed the warrant, and presented it.
The clerk scanned it, then looked up, frowning. “Ritter Ysella … from the former…”
“The former ruler of Aloor? Yes, he was my grandsire. I’m the first generation allowed to run for public office.”
The clerk nodded, checking through several folders before opening one and studying it. “Premier Detruro indicated he wanted to meet with you. If you’d let me confirm that he’s free, sir.”
“Of course.”
As the clerk stood and made his way to the closed door in the middle of the rear wall, Dominic surveyed the chamber. The white walls bore few marks of use, although areas above the brass sconces of the wall lamps looked slightly duller, likely from repeated removal of the soot from the burning oil.
In moments, the clerk reappeared. “The Premier will see you, sir. Go right in. I’ll have your credentials and pin by the time you return.”
“Thank you.” Ysella made his way to the half-open door and stepped into the study, closing the door.
“I’m pleased to meet you, Ritter Ysella,” Iustaan Detruro declared as he stood.
At that moment, Ysella realized how tall the muscular but balding premier actually was, more than two heads taller than Ysella, who was a touch above average height.
Detruro gestured to the chair in front of the ornately carved goldenwood desk, then seated himself.
Ysella sat and waited, smiling pleasantly as he met Detruro’s eyes, trying to get a sense of the Premier, since, unlike some, he could only discern feelings through careful observation.
“I’ve wondered what you’d be like.”
“I suspect I’m not much different from any other councilor who’s an unmarried third son,” replied Ysella.
“I understand you’re a legalist. That’s not exactly usual in a family with lineage such as yours.”
“I had no interest in subsisting on familial alms.”
Detruro’s laugh was warm, amused, and doubtless practiced. “You look younger than most councilors.”
“I doubtless am.” Given that you’re barely twenty-six.
“You’re not wearing a gladius.”
“I understood that blades longer than a belt knife aren’t allowed in the Council building.” Ysella didn’t mention his dislike of dueling, still occasionally practiced among landors.
“Wise and considerate of you to have discovered that. Have you found lodgings?”
“Not yet. I’m staying with Councilor Aashen. He’s a distant cousin. By relationship, although Sudaen isn’t that close to Aloor.”
“Chaarls should prove helpful, but I’d suggest you stay away from the Citadel area. It’s cheaper, but rather rough. There are some smaller suitable dwellings close to Camelia Avenue near Imperial University.”
“Imperial University?” Ysella was unaware that Machtarn held such an institution.
“It’s only been open the last three years. The Imperador felt a university was necessary after the Trinitarians closed down their college.”
“I hadn’t heard that.” As he spoke, Ysella managed not to wince. While Aloor was a good four hundred milles from Machtarn, everyone in Aloor, at least those in every landed family, had heard about how Laureous exiled all of the scholars at the Trinitarian Seminary to Neewyrk in the far northeast of Guldor. Although rumors abounded, no one knew exactly why, and for some reason, no one had mentioned the new Imperial University. Possibly because few in Aloor dared to criticize the Imperador, and fewer still wanted to praise him.
“I understand you have
some background dealing with water law.”
Rather than explain in detail, Ysella nodded, adding, “Some background, but not so much as an older and experienced legalist in such matters.”
“I’d thought to assign you to the Waterways Committee.”
Ysella understood that as well. Young men from landed families who were councilors all knew something about land, agriculture, and the grain exchanges, as well as labor, from dealing with the susceptibles, and other less endowed persons, who did most of the manual labor on estates.
“The chairman of the Waterways Committee is Councilor Sheem, and when you can, you should introduce yourself. The new Council will be sworn in next Duadi. I look forward to working with you.” Detruro stood abruptly. “The clerks will have your office assignment and provide you with your keys and everything you need.”
Ysella didn’t quite scramble to his feet. “Thank you, Premier Detruro.” He inclined his head politely before turning and leaving the office.
1
Machtarn—20 Fallend 819
AT a third after second bell of the morning, Ysella stepped through the main door into his second-floor office in the Council Hall, actually two offices. The space on the right contained his two clerks, and a bench where visitors could sit. His equally small personal office on the left held a desk, a file chest, a narrow bookcase, and three chairs, accessed by a door in the middle of the wall between the two spaces. A single window behind his desk was the principal source of light, but his personal office also had a separate door to the main corridor, which had proved useful once in a great while.
“Good morning,” offered Ysella to the senior clerk, Lyaard Khaard.
“The same to you, Ritter. Paatyr went down to get the morning Tribune. He should be back any moment. You received only a few letters this morning.”
“Complaints or petitions, I imagine.” Since anything personal gets delivered to the house.
“And a message from Premier Detruro,” added Khaard.
“Another announcement to all councilors.”
“It didn’t look like those, sir.”
“I can always hope.” Ysella smiled, ruefully, before entering his office, where he immediately took off his overcoat and hung it on the wall peg. He crossed the room to open the interior window shutters. Although there wasn’t any frost on the glass, he felt the chill. By Yearend there would be frost, and the Council Hall would be almost uninhabitable, not that it wasn’t close to that already, despite the small wall stove and the heavy blue-gray woolen suit that he wore.
He turned to his desk, picked up the letter knife—a miniature replica of an Alooran gladius—and opened the envelope from Detruro. He extracted the note card and read it, still standing.
Dominic—
I’d appreciate it if you’d stop by my office around third bell this morning.
The note was signed with a flowery “I” accompanied by the seal of the Premier.
Ysella had no doubt what was on Detruro’s mind, what with all the “discussion” in the Waterways Committee about which districts should receive priority in the appropriations legislation. Because the Council would be called to order at fourth bell, Ysella intended to be on time, since his relations with Detruro had been little more than polite from the first, no matter what Ysella did to be friendly.
As Ysella laid the note on the desk, Paatyr Jaasn, the junior clerk, knocked on the half-open door. “Would you like to see the Tribune immediately, sir?”
“I think that means I need to,” said Ysella dryly, stepping away from the desk and taking the newssheet. “Thank you. If you’d close the door.”
“Yes, sir.”
After seating himself behind his desk, Ysella began to read the lead story above the fold.
WAR LOOMING?
“Nothing more than a senile war hound!” That was how Atacama’s Grande Duce Almaetar described Imperador Laureous after the Atacaman three-deck galleon Victorya Grande opened fire on the Guldoran frigate Paelart for entering Atacaman waters offshore from Port Lenfer in the Gulf of Nordum on Duadi, the second of Fallend.
While the Paelart suffered only minor damage, her cannon crippled the Atacaman vessel, forcing it to return to Port Lenfer …
Given the almost uncritical support of Laureous previously evidenced by the newssheet, Ysella doubted that the damage to the Paelart was minor.
… the Grande Duce has been increasingly strident in his denunciations of Guldoran efforts to rein in the depredations of so-called privateers sailing out of small isles in the Cataran Delta …
Guldoran First Marshal Gunnar Solatiem has vowed to deploy naval marines to deal with the privateers if the Grande Duce refuses to remove them, despite Atacaman claims that no such privateers exist and that such attacks would require Atacama to defend its lands and honor …
Ysella shook his head, then read through the rest of the newssheet.
The only other article of interest reported that Commodore Daargaen, the head of naval procurement, charged Jaahn Escalante with refusal to abide by the price of tin agreed to contractually. Escalante claimed that “unavoidable circumstances,” as spelled out in the contract, required him to increase prices to the Navy. Ysella had certainly heard of the Escalante family, given that Alaan Escalante was the current councilor from Silverhills. However, Alaan had never mentioned family or relations in their brief conversions, and the fact that the Tribune didn’t mention Alaan suggested that any relationship wasn’t close.
Even so, it could get sticky, particularly since Alaan serves on the Military Affairs Committee.
Ysella felt slight surprise that he hadn’t been contacted by Reimer Daarkyn, the Tribune newshawk assigned to cover Council committees, including the Waterways Committee.
But he’ll likely show up today … and certainly no later than tomorrow. With a wry smile, Ysella set aside the newssheet and slit open the first of the three envelopes on his desk, extracted the letter, checking the signature and seal—that of Cyraen Presswyrth, a familial acquaintance from Khuld. Then he began to read.
Councilor Ysella—
As you may recall, last spring you met with landowners from Khuld and Daal. At that time, you indicated that you’d look into obtaining funding to deepen the channel in the upper reaches of the Khulor River to return it to its previous depths. Recent reports from Machtarn suggest that the funds presently in the Waterways appropriations would be insufficient to accomplish more than a few milles of deepening.
The inability to transport agricultural goods and produce effectively by water is already creating considerable hardship on all those dependent on river transport, something that could be counted on in the times of your grandsire.
In other words, you’re not delivering the way your grandsire did when he was king of Aloor.
When Ysella finished the first letter, he opened and read the next two. All three were similar and came from the heads of landed families with ties to his own family, which was why they’d written.
They have no idea what it took to get the funding that I managed. But then, Ysella also knew that they didn’t care. All they knew was that he hadn’t gotten them all they wanted and felt they needed.
He stood, picked up the three letters, and carried them into the anteroom. “Lyaard, if you’d draft replies to these, politely saying that I fully understand the difficulties that they face, that the Waterways Committee obtained as much funding as was possible under the strictures set forth by the Imperador, and that I’ll be looking for every opportunity to add funds in the future to deepen the upper reaches of the Khulor River.”
“Yes, sir.”
“While you’re handling that, I’m going to meet with the Premier.”
From where he sat at the other desk, Jaasn rolled his eyes.
“I know,” replied Ysella, “I’m so fortunate.”
Khaard failed to conceal an amused smile.
Ysella left his office on the upper level, one of the more distant offices from the Council floor, despite his position as chairman of the Waterways Committee, and made his way down to Detruro’s office.
There, one of the newer clerks said, “You can go in. He’s expecting you, sir.”
“Thank you.”
Ysella closed the inner office door behind himself.
