Chapter 688: One Among Many

One Among Many

“Magistrate. I am glad you would join me for this meal,” Martel declared. He sat in one of his private rooms suitable for eating with guests. Two plates filled with delicacies stood on the table, offering spiced meat with the vegetables of the harvest season.

“It did not seem prudent to refuse,” Alexius mumbled, sitting down.

“I’m pleased we could find the time to speak,” the captain continued, knowing he had plenty of it. Eleanor would make sure it took all afternoon to fetch the emperor from the fortress. “My home is not far from your city, after all. I’m from Farill, and I travelled through Anvallum on my journey here.”

“I have heard you are from Nordmark.” The magistrate took a bite to eat. “Not that anybody would doubt that, seeing you.”

A reference to his eyes, Martel figured, but for once not maliciously intended. Anvallum would have others with the same hue. “It’s why I thought we should talk. Your region would benefit from our proposal above all. How often does anyone in Morcaster think of Anvallum? This way, you’ll have people present when decisions are made.”

“That same distance that makes us forgotten would also prevent that,” Alexius argued. “If every time the Senate is convened, it takes our delegate a month to reach Morcaster, all decisions will be long done before they arrive.”

“That is simple to solve. They will simply stay here permanently rather than travel back and forth.”

“I suppose. But that means they will have to decide on their own without having time to consult with their superiors back in Anvallum.” The magistrate ate with quick, fidgeting movements. “Neither is ideal.”

“Solutions rarely are. Would you rather have less-than-ideal influence or none at all?” Martel did not wait for an answer. “If we cannot agree, the threat of civil war returns to the table. To stand any chance of winning, all the northern legions will be withdrawn. Nordmark will be surrendered to the wild, and Anvallum will be a frontier city. Your farmlands and outskirts will suffer Tyrian raids.”

“We have our own legion that protects us.” Alexius sniffed as he took his cup of undiluted wine.

“Think of all the coin spent on the war against Khiva. Imagine if a small part had been invested in Anvallum or southern Nordmark. So much more land could be ploughed, reducing the fear of famine. With better roads, trade would increase, more towns could flourish, and rather than being the edge of the Empire, Anvallum would be the centre of not one, but two thriving provinces.” Martel exhaled; it had taken him a while to memorise all the arguments, most of them invented by Eleanor.

“But if that money had not gone to the legions, it would have gone somewhere else than Anvallum regardless.”

“Undoubtedly. But once my legions are discharged, that’s a lot of coin the Imperial treasury will have left in future years. When the decision has to be made where to spend it, wouldn’t you feel more comfortable knowing your delegates were in Morcaster, championing your cause?”

The magistrate did not reply, but he took another sip of his wine. “This is good,” he professed. “It’s hard to get the good vintage up north.”

“I appreciate plain talk. Will I have it?”

“I don’t want civil war, or marching my soldiers through the entire breadth of the Empire to see them slaughtered by incendiary spells before the walls of this city,” Miles spoke quietly. “You’ll find no argument from me against.”

“And in favour? You’ve banded behind Legate Honorius as your captain. Will you help sway her to avoid what you just described?”

“If I feel I have the right words to say. But between you and me, she’s a woman of great faith. If you want to make an impression on her, you should have a clergyman or two on your side,” the legate revealed.

Considering how Martel had treated the high inquisitor, he might not have the best reputation among the Faith. “I appreciate the advice.”

“Milord,” a servant called out, hurrying toward them. “Lady Fontaine has returned.”

***

They all gathered in one of the many halls of the palace. Martel had yet to figure out the purpose of having so many. They often looked similar and seemed to serve the same type of purpose, suggesting there was only need for one.

Everyone waited in a different way. Several of the magistrates milled about or spoke in a nervous manner about idle matters. Miles looked calm, if bored, while the other legate, Alexia, scowled in every direction. As for the captain of their group, Honorius, she looked stern to the point of haughty.

On a balcony, a handful of people appeared. Three children or adolescents, the eldest of whom Martel recognised as Flavius, heir to the Empire. An odd-looking fellow, expressionless and unemotional; Martel had met him twice, and both times he had felt unnerved, like being scrutinised and judged by the Imperial prince for reasons unknown. The other children had to be his younger siblings; they looked nervous.

On either side stood the emperor and his wife. Martel could not recall if he had ever seen the woman before, but he remembered his first impression of Corvinus the Third. The man had looked imposing to Martel; not due to his stature, being of average height, but because of the value of his enchanted garments. Now he wore a soldier’s tunic, and it became apparent to Martel how he was just a man.

Not everyone shared the same revelation; Giles of Marbury stepped forward and fell to his knees. “My emperor!” he cried out, and Martel felt a wave of disgust at this display of supplication. Three months ago, the emperor would never have noticed or cared about some magistrate from a city somewhere in the Empire. Yet now he raised his hand magnanimously toward his loyal subject, who looked on the verge of tears. Martel nodded toward Eleanor, who had the royal family removed.

“Where will you take them now?” exclaimed Giles. “Back to some hole, barely fit for rats, consigning His Imperial Majesty to a slow demise while we argue and bicker endlessly?”

“He’ll be provided quarters of the same comfort as yours,” Martel replied coldly. “If it’s good enough for one of us, it’ll do for all of us. I suggest we return to the table, now that you’ve had your curiosity satisfied.” One after the other, they made their way back to the negotiating table.