Libertatis Imperium (Gate)

Chapter 72

charclone

Well-known member
Ugh, ch 75 fought me. As did the Humanity's Illusion chapter I am posting today. Sorry for the slow rate of updates.

With a groan, Pina collapsed into a chair, finally free of the negotiations with NATO, safe in the Jade Palace, her private estate. After weeks of negotiations, her job was done. The agreement was more than the Empire hoped to preserve but less than it wanted.

She still wasn't entirely sure what NATO wanted, but territory around Alnus had been surrendered to the Alnus Community as a sort of vassal of NATO, as well as territory stretching across the northern Elbe border around the Tybe Mountain range, stopping outside of the Deabis Coastal Province Its northern border stopped at Italica, and the western border stopped at the Roh river.

The land was underdeveloped, mostly comprised of scattered villages, as the Empire had maintained its focus on the vassal states to the south and north of Sadera proper. It was, nevertheless, more territory than the Empire hoped to lose, but it saved the Empire from having to make any large reparation payments.

Those directly affected, commoner and not, would be compensated from a purse the Empire would give as its reparation payment, in addition to a manageable yearly sum for the next fifty years. The provisions NATO had offered, in exchange for the promise of trade – to be negotiated at a later date – and exchanges of scholars to study each other's records and culture, were a branch that Pina was certain could be leveraged to get the Senate to agree to it, not to mention make it look as though she was able to wring some concessions out of the otherworlders.

NATO was not completely satisfied either, of course. Pina had, per her father and the Senate's wishes, refused to budge on the issue of the Bellatrix Lepus Province. It caused some deal of strife, Pina noted. Both in the negotiation party and in the 'newsgroups', according to what her knights at Alnus gathered.

Now, her father just had to sell it to the Senate to be ratified. He had already given his assent, so it was merely a matter of time until the senate convened once more.

A servant fed logs into the fireplace, stoking it to life. Soon, despite the twilight hour, the room was bathed in light and heat, stone insulating the occupants from the nighttime chill.

A servant entered, carrying a tub of hot water. Pina sighed in contentment as she placed her feet into it.

"Ah, Your Highness," Hamilton entered mere heartbeats later. "My apologies for the late hour, but you wanted a report on the efforts of the knights?"

Pina groaned.

"Yes…" She sighed, slumping in her seat. "What are the important parts? I can read the rest myself in the morning."

"Ah, several of our supporters are reaching out to senatorial families. Some of those families have expressed support for the peace," Hamilton said. "Senator Casel is the most notable member among them. He agrees that a war with NATO is not in the Empire's interests."

"Hmm," Pina hummed, closing her eyes as she relaxed. "Hopefully, my efforts with the peace treaty don't make any of them switch sides, believing that NATO is weak for agreeing to a deal that ends it so swiftly. Is there anything else?"

"Not with how easily NATO crushed the legions sent against it," Hamilton protested. "Ah, yes, it seems your brothers have been throwing some money around at alchemists and mages, trying to entice them to join the military."

Pina pursed her lips and opened her eyes to look at Hamilton.

"Do we know why?"

"Ah, the alchemists were claiming they could unravel the secrets to NATO's weapons," Hamilton said. "As for the mages, I don't know anything specific."

Pina groaned and placed her face in her hands.

"Probably to make up for the difference in capability," She muttered. "Is there any talk of restarting the war?"

"Ah, no," Hamilton shook her head. "Diabo was praising your efforts in the negotiations… though, he was also… um…."

"Just say it, Hamilton," Pina shook her head, swinging her loose red locks with the motion. "I won't be irate with you."

"He… was also applauding you for doing something beyond 'playing with your knights," Hamilton winced as she repeated what she heard. "He was… dismissive of our accomplishments at Italica, as largely downplayed any other actions on your part. I… think he is trying to make you seem, um…."

"Less than ideal as heir?" Pina finished the thought for her, sighing. "Father expected as much."

Hamilton shifted nervously, uncomfortable with having repeated Diabo's lies and insults to Pina.

"That will be all Hamilton, thank you," Pina dismissed her aide. "You may take the rest of the night off. We can discuss the rest in the morning."

"Oh, um, good night, then, Your Highness."

Hamilton withdrew, leaving Pina alone with her thoughts and fears.




The fall weather was milder at Alnus than in Canada. It wasn't surprising, given the lower latitude and different axial tilt, but it was something unusual to Philip. The weather was not quite tropical, closer to southern France than on the Mediterranean coast, but it was still warmer than what it would have been this time of year in Canada.

Despite what some of the US soldiers claimed, Canada wasn't a frozen tundra. Not in its entirety, anyway.

It meant growing seasons were longer and meant greater harvests if the ground was good. Or simply bolstered by modern farming capabilities. Something he had been invited to oversee by the recently settled farmers.

It was obvious to King Duran that Richard was completely out of his depth. Not just being a noble, but also overseeing a harvest.

As he rode the NATO chariot, the Humvee, he watched as a farmer tried to explain why he was trying to give a tithe of his produce to the young knight.

As his escort opened the door for him, he heard the farmer get around to explaining the point of tithes.

"Well if you had started with that, things would have been much clearer," He heard Richard say in response. "When you go into Alnus to sell your produce, talk to a staff sergeant Philip, he'll help you sort out what and how much is being set aside for emergencies. He'll also explain the tax system being set up."

"Everything well, Sir Richard?" Duran called out cheerfully.

Richard gave the farmer a wave as the man bowed and left the knight before he turned to look at the King.

"King Duran, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Sir Richard greeted. "I was just about to head back to Alnus."

"Ah, then you can ride along with me," Duran smiled and gestured back to the Humvee. "I find myself enjoying these vehicles, though not as much as a horse. It is a pleasant mode of travel, if startlingly fast."

Seated in the back of the vehicle, the pair travelled in silence.

About halfway back to Alnus, Duran broached the topic he wanted to discuss with Richard.

"Have you thought about my offer?" He asked.

"The factory?" Richard sighed. "This past week, my inbox has been flooded with requests, questions, offers, and threats from businesses looking to get into Falmart. I've also looked at the laws. You don't need me to get a factory."

"Oh?" Duran gave Richard a sidelong glance. He studied the younger man for several moments as the Humvee bounced along the dirt road. "Why tell me this? Wouldn't it benefit your people?"

"My people?"

"The Warrior Bunnies, the people of Alnus, and the many slaves that have escaped the Empire and flocked to your banner," King Duran said. "Are you not the lord of Alnus?"

"No," Richard sighed. "As I was telling the farmer back there, I'm a knight of an order of chivalry, awarded the title and membership for actions in service to the good of others. I am not, however, a noble as you would define it."

"Yet, you refuse the land and title I am offering," Duran frowned in confusion. This went well beyond modesty. "Why? Why are you so opposed to a title? I have spoken with members of your… parliament. They are not opposed to granting you permission to accept the title. You already bear the responsibilities."

At the look on Richard's face as his resistance wavered; Duran pressed on.

"And consider this: if Tara were to be made queen, it would look poorly on her if her lover were a mere honorary knight, rather than a noble," He pointed out. "The factory and mines would mean wealth for you and your people, beyond simply trading and farming."

King Duran, Wolf of Elbe, gave a subtle grin as he saw Richard's resistance crack.

"Why are you so invested in the mines? I recognise that you can't access their wealth, but selling the land seems to go against it," Richard questioned, to Duran's surprise, rather than giving in. "Surely, you have other mines that could feed a factory?"

"True, but their output is limited," Duran shrugged as if it was an impossible option. "New mines would free up opportunities and workers. I am quite interested in expanding trade, both with my neighbours, and NATO. But let me ask you this: If the Gate closed, would you stay?"

Richard frowned.

"I would."

"But Alnus would not be able to support itself like it does now. It would shrink, and the location is far from fortified against attack," Duran pointed out. "Without local industry, well, like an archer requires far more than just a few fletchers to be useful on the battlefield, I suspect your soldiers would find themselves hampered by the lack of local manufacturing."

Richard squeezed his eyes shut.

"Very well, you've convinced me," He sighed, slumping into his seat. "Send the proposal to me. I will have a lawyer look over the agreement and look for a business partner to supply the expertise and machinery. I suppose we'll start with a refinery. At least it can be used as a point of pride for Alnus, something of their own labour, rather than handouts from NATO."

"That's the spirit," King Duran chuckled. Quietly, he reaffirmed his decision to be careful with the borders. The metals and industry were needed, true, but the diamonds in the mountain were far more valuable. A mine, placed on his side of the border, but close enough to share protections from the dark elves, could extract the diamonds without becoming entangled in NATO's interests. Labour might be an issue, due in part to NATO's insistence on banning slavery, but Duran hoped that the dark elves could be persuaded to work through other means.

With those diamonds and the coin from trade, Elbe's mages might become worth a damn.

Duran's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden chirp from the driver's radio. It was followed by muffled words in English and included several phrases he couldn't translate. But he recognised the tone of concern in the voice and the way the driver suddenly changed direction.

"Sir Richard, King Duran, there was an incident. I have orders to take you to FoB Alnus," The driver announced. "Someone tried to assassinate Tyuule."
 

ATP

Well-known member
Well,either Zorzal,or other bunnies.Do not matter,really.Why not send her to Earth?

That aside - they should prepare for Gate being closed,becouse it happened before.
Making factories capable of producing tools and weapons on,let say,1950 level would be good - Studebakers and AK 47 should be enough against any Saderan invasion.

Strange,that in canon nobody thought about that.
 
Chapter 73

charclone

Well-known member
The fire crackled as a servant added more wood to it. Roast animals were slowly turned above the flames, the centrepieces for the feast Diabo was throwing.

He could, through the corner of his eye, see the way Zorzal was eyeing it, nearly watering at the mouth.

It settled Diabo's nerves. His brother had in recent months begun to exhibit behaviour that was rather unlike him, so something once more in character was a calming reminder that Zorzal was still the gluttonous and hedonistic brute he had always been. Even if it turned out he had some hidden depths for poetry and oratory.

Diabo mentally shook his head as he pushed the doubts aside. His brother was a bully, of course, the poetry about war and glory would appeal to him. That he had some skill at stirring the hearts of men, well, Diabo would be lying if he said he wasn't jealous, but he supposed it wasn't that surprising, given his time as a commander. He probably learned it while on campaign, from his more experienced officers.

"My apologies, my thoughts wandered," He said to his conversation partner. "You were saying?"

"No apology necessary, Your Highness," The senator waved it off. "I tend to ramble on."

"Oh, no, not at all," Diabo said easily. "Your words simply made me think. My father does command an… unprecedented amount of power over the senate. In times, such arrangements made sense; after all, an army cannot be led by consensus among the soldiers. But you had an excellent point about the purpose of the Senate, as well."

"Indeed," The senator nodded before taking a sip of his wine. "Ah, a good vintage, an excellent choice your Highness. But as I was saying, there are other members of the Senate who hold similar views. We are not calling for the Emperor, or his heir, to relinquish their rightful powers, merely that they return some of the Senate's powers to see to it that the duties of the Senate are properly carried out."

"Sadly, I doubt my father would see it that way," Diabo made a show of sighing in sympathy. "He no doubt plans to prop Pina up as a puppet for himself, while he retires, and let her slowly take over fully by the time he passes. My sister is many things, but I fear she is unsuited to the role of leading a nation. Not to mention, she is alarmingly close to NATO."

"Oh, indeed," The senator nodded, then caught themselves. "Ah, not that your sister is incapable, of course, but… I question the Emperor's sense when there are other alternatives to her, that are much more capable."

"Oh?" Diabo hid his smile behind his own wine glass. The words were false, disguising the true conversation, but it was this sort of arena that Diabo thrived. "My brother, perhaps?"

"Ah, indeed," The senator said with only a slight blink of surprise. "True, his political strength is settled in the military, but with your assistance, and his glory, I and many others believe Sadera would be in good hands."

Diabo gave a polite thanks to the compliment, to acknowledge the pledge of support, before continuing his rounds around the feasting hall. His Lapis palace was not as prestigious as Zorzal's Silver Palace, or the Emperor's Imperial Palace of Sol, but it was by no means small. It was, after all, fit for a prince of the Empire.

Yet, the number of people present seemed to threaten the sheer size of the gargantuan hall. The cooks were hastily preparing the first course, due in an hour as the sun began to wane outside, but he had no fear about them failing to meet his standards. He selected only the best of the best, barring those chosen for the emperor.

From his scribes and cooks, down to the cleaners and guards, he made sure they were well-paid, skilled, and fully aware of what would happen if any of them let rumours be spread. Zorzal was insulated by his reputation, people expected certain behaviour from the lout, and that kept any controversy from sticking to him.

Diabo was not so well protected. He had an image and a reputation to maintain, one that required finesse, skill, charm, wit, and attention to detail. It could not tolerate controversy turning his political allies into his foes, not before he was prepared to deal with them, anyway.

Politics was a delicate game, requiring a willingness to use underhanded methods to achieve one's goals, not like fighting. While neither were clean, in Diabo's eyes, there was no real skill to fighting, armies simply marching up to each other and bludgeoning with formations away until one side won.

Politics required tact, subterfuge, acting, and strategy beyond merely putting troops into places.

Besides, with politics, one could end wars before they started, without cutting taxes by sending farmers off to die.

Secure in his superiority, Diabo quietly continued to plot, his plan of being the power behind his brother on the throne coming to fruition as many senators pledged their support.

He never noticed the two pairs of eyes, subtly watching him. One with scorn from the shadows, as one might look down on a particularly annoying pest. The other, with a sly look of a fox, whose prey was stumbling straight into its jaws.




Pina, across the inner city, greeted her guests as they joined her at the Jade Palace.

"Senator Tiberius, Marquis Palesti, welcome," She gave the senator and nobleman, as well as their accompanying families, a warm smile. "Marquis, your daughter is just at the entrance of the gardens, if you wish to speak with her. My cooks have several foreign delicacies being prepared, obtained from Alnus."

"Oh?" Marquis Casel El Tiberius glanced at her. "I don't suppose you would be willing to give us a hint as to what those might be?"

"Spices, meats, wines," Pina answered. "More than a small selection. My knights spent some time compiling a list of what we could acquire."

"Hoping to reinforce the pressure for a treaty, and establish trade?" Casel asked, catching Pina's plot rather quickly.

Marquis Palesti gave a polite chuckle, before making his excuses and leading his family off.

Pina gave Bozes' father a nod of acknowledgement, before sighing at Casel's deduction.

"It was that obvious?"

"It was," He shrugged. "But given the audience and your allies, the correct move."

The elderly senator gave her an encouraging smile.

"While I have my disagreements with your father, I agree that a war with NATO is not in the Empire's interests," He said. "But, if we are to broach such a topic… perhaps it might wait, or shall we head to a balcony?"

Pina nodded and led the way to an upper floor, well away from the chatter of the party. The Senator sent his family off to enjoy it, as he followed the Imperial Princes. Quickly, the sounds of people loudly speaking became muffled by decorated stone and timber.

"Now," Casel noted a knight staying nearby the Princess, just out of direct sight. One of Pina's guards. "I assume those nearby are those you trust?"

"I do," Pina replied. "What is this about?"

"Both of your brothers have been gathering power, in coordination. I cannot in good conscience tolerate either of them taking the throne," The senator said as a cool evening breeze drifted over them. "There have also been murmurs of senators and nobles with… less than perfect principles being blackmailed. Secret heirs, assassinations, Dar in the city. It is alarming."

"Are you suggesting my brothers are planning a coup?" Pina fought to keep her tone from becoming raised or accusatory. The balcony was isolated, but the sound could still carry.

"No, no," Casel shook his head. "I am saying that elements of the nobility are becoming restless, and I fear your brothers may make use of this. Despite the Emperor, the Senatoria Familia has always been cutthroat and power hungry."

"Aside from yourself, that is," Pina jibed.

"I was born to a baron and rose through service to the emperor. It is why my dissent is tolerated, I am a voice of reason," He quoted an old phrase. "'Respice post te. Hominem te esse memento. Memento mori!'; 'Look behind. Remember thou art mortal. Remember you must die!'. The Emperor tolerates me because I remind him not all blindly follow him. It likely helps that I have demonstrated greater interest in the Empire's health than in power. I would not be a senator, if not for the Emperor choosing to reward me."

Pina shook her head.

"Regardless, what are you suggesting I do about it?"

"Nothing you are not already doing," Casel shrugged. "Keep seeking allies, look for opportunities. But, know this, I know I can trust you to have the Empire's interests at heart, thus, I believe you are the best person to rule. You have my support, should you have need of it, and my counsel."

"Thank you for your pledge of support, senator," Pina nodded. "Please, enjoy the party."

After the senator left, Pina remained and looked out over the city from the balcony. Her heart clenched. While heartening to receive such support, Pina wasn't sure she could trust him. She wasn't sure she could trust anyone, thanks to her fears and doubts.

How many of her knights were in Zorzal's camp, merely bowing to oaths and obligations? How many senators were simply looking to be close to the next heir?

Was her father and Senator Tiberius correct in believing she was the best choice?




Dimmu clamped his jaw shut as he coughed. The damp air of the old palace, buried underneath the city of Sadera and excavated by the Haryo's predecessors, made his lungs ache. He hated this place. It smelled of rot, decay, and pain.

Forcing his twisted body straight, he kept walking. A guard, a mix of a human, Dar, elf, and dragonkin, only glanced at him before returning to huddling in front of a small fire.

Dimmu ignored him and the ache in his body. The whispers of Palapon, his god and the god of revenge, guided him to his destination.

It had only taken a few weeks of being seen in the right places for the guards to become accustomed to his presence. He was, after all, one of them. Born and raised as a member of the Haryo, the product of the previous leader's breeding program, to achieve the ideal mixes of blood, to create a perfect chimera.

Instead, Dimmu was born a twisted thing, like the rest of those born from the project. His health frail and his body barely able to sustain itself. The failure wasn't enough to condemn them, their minds came out sharp, with many having talents for magic.

But it was enough that the previous leader was ousted and a young firebrand took his place. Bouro couldn't stand the sight of the wretches. Worse, many were smarter than him.

Dimmu had gotten lucky when the others were purged. He had been close enough to a merchant's caravan that he could sneak out of the city with it. Not just close physically, but also holding some level of camaraderie with the merchant, aiding him with currency and trade secrets.

Travelling with the merchant had opened his eyes to what the world was like beyond Sadera. The books the merchant gifted him, on the Warrior Bunnies, however, left a far greater impression.

The first Haryo were born from Dar, according to the tales. The Dar were then absorbed by the only native race of Falmart, born from the composite creatures that could take the traits of any parent. The remaining Dar were in fact chimera, like himself.

But the Warrior Bunnies, claimed to be a 'pure' race and alien to the world… were the same. Their offspring, while slanted towards female births, could be the product of any race. Yet, the Haryo had maintained that the Warrior Bunnies were not natives.

It made him start to question everything he knew.

Until, one day, he encountered a priest of Palapon. The offer from the god was tempting. Life, to sustain his failing health despite his relative youth at the time, to see vengeance on Bouru, not only for the others purged, but also for the lies spread that poisoned the very air the Haryo breathed.

The price was cheap, he had thought. In truth, both of them had been surprised at how hard it had been to uncover the truth of the tale of vengeance that predated Palapon's godhood.

That it now led to the birth of a goddess to hold dominion over Apocryph and who was also Hardy's lover was an even greater surprise.

But now, revenge would soon be his.

Dimmu smiled to himself as he entered Bouro's office. Once, it had been a throne room, perhaps Sol's own when he was only a demigod. Now, it lay in ruin, the tiles on the floor and walls long fallen away, the throne removed, and dirt piled in corners.

Without a word, he bowed to the leader of the Haryo, placing a letter on the desk, before departing. Instead of leaving, he slipped into a shadow, near the door, just so, making it appear as if he had left. Moments later, Bouru went rushing past.

The idiot hadn't recognised him after all this time and so believed him to merely be a loyal, braindead lackey.

Dimmu stepped out of the shadow. Abandoning his forced gait, he hurried over to the shelf. A mental clock ticking. From his tattered robes, an otherworlder device was pulled out.

The whispers of Palapon guided his hand to pull down the best book for his purpose.

Three dozen flashes of the camera later, and the ledger was returned to its place, Dimmu left the complex entirely, vanishing into the Saderan night with a single question on his mind.

Who would be best to give this evidence to?




Pina yawned as the last of the guests left, either to the guestrooms or back to their estates within the city.

Her doubts remained, but she had received several more pledges of support, mostly from the families of her knights, but that numbered more than a few Senators and a large number of nobles.

She started for the stairs, her bed her aim, when the rapid footfalls of a servant caught her attention.

She sighed and waited for what she expected to be news of a guest who had drank too much and passed out, or perhaps some wine had been stolen.

"Princess, this letter was left at the servants' entrance," The servant panted, pale and shaken. "It… I think you should see what is inside."

Pina took the letter; a folded packet of cheap paper. Not something easy to obtain by a commoner, but it was also too frail for a noble to have bothered with.

Part of her expected some sort of threat as she opened it.

Instead, she found something that made her blink. Squares of material, otherworlder in nature.

But on them were images of pages from a ledger of some sort. It took Pina a moment to read the first page of the group, and it made her heart drop.

"It would seem the senator's rumours were worse than we thought," She muttered. Her mind immediately assumed he was responsible before she corrected herself. He wouldn't have access to otherworlder materials like this.

"Thank you for delivering this," She told the servant. "Go, get some rest. In the morning, I will speak to my father."
 
Chapter 74

charclone

Well-known member
"What happened, sister?" Tara demanded the moment the MPs guarding the hospital room permitted her entrance, Richard waiting outside for the moment. "Are you safe?"

Tyuule's several moments of silence sent icy tendrils to wrap around Tara's heart.

"She didn't harm me," Tyuule finally said, after several gut-wrenching moments. "Oh, she intended to, at first but…"

Tyuule trailed off. Her face darkened with shame and a deep sorrow.

"… after she saw the scars, she wouldn't do it. She realised the truth of my captivity."

Tara winced. Her sister had not been a flawless beauty before the war; training was far from safe and their people did not live in the lap of luxury. But beneath the medical gown, scar tissue was visible, not caused by blades or a scuffle, but instead caused by bites from human teeth, badly healed whip scars, and other, equally dark sources.

"… She won't be the last," Tyuule continued. "You know very well how stubborn our people can be, sister. I will never be accepted as queen again."

"Don't say it," Tara pouted, slumping into a nearby chair. "… please don't. I… if I am made queen, they would make me marry some… 'pure-blooded' male instead of Richard, and I don't want to have to deal with running a Kingdom, I saw what the stress was doing to you."

Tyuule snorted bitterly.

"There aren't any males left. Zorzal slaughtered them all," She gave a morbid laugh. "Besides, most of the stress was coming from the Empire on our borders. With NATO, that threat is negligible. On top of all that, you are already managing a kingdom. I can see how big Alnus is."

Tara huffed.

"Anyway," The potential queen said to her sister, changing the subject much to Tyuule's amusement. "Why do you think there will be others?"

"… because, if a former member of my guard is willing to try and kill me, then certainly others will as well," Tyuule answered. "She also mentioned, between sobbing apologies, that there was a great amount of fear amongst our people that we would be sold to NATO."

Tara snorted.

"Hah!" She scoffed. "With all the effort they are putting into avoiding stepping on our toes, and helping us, I doubt that."

"Oh? No fear that they may demand compensation for their assistance?" Tyuule quirked an eyebrow. "The Empire has tried to do the same, to force their culture on us."

"Hardly," Tara snorted. "Oh, they share their culture, but they are very careful about it. Small amounts, and only if we go looking for it, often asking about our culture more often. I've started to teach Richard how to fight with one of our knives."

Tyuule laughed. It still was tinged with sadness, but Tara considered it an improvement over her earlier dour mood.

"It's probably Radya and her ilk stirring up trouble again," Tara sighed. "She… doesn't trust NATO. No matter what they do or say."

"Well, why don't you tell me about what she has been saying?" Tyuule asked. "I suppose, since my life is in peril, I should lend my experience to my sister to help her solve the issues at hand."

Tara just gave an amused sigh before she started to explain the political situation.




Outside, Richard started to doze, leaning against a wall. A cough woke him.

Blinking he gazed at the man leaning against the wall next to him, wearing a US uniform, lacking rank insignia. The nametag read 'Smith'.

"So, I hear there are troubles in Alnus," He said cooly.

"You're a spook, I assume?" Richard asked. "Lack of rank insignia kind of implies that."

"I prefer intelligence officer, but yes," The man sighed. "Alright, so in short, we're concerned by the political situation in the Empire. Local issues we aren't too concerned by, but fear things could get out of hand."

Richard winced. He had feared something like this since the Long Patrol had been brought forward as an idea.

"What do you want out of me?" He asked, his throat running dry.

"Nothing major. We will do what we can on our end to smooth things over, but we recommend you look at expanding the Long Patrol, soon, just in case," The spook said. "The Empire… is following certain historical Roman trends, shall we say?"

Richard winced again, a frown settling onto his face.

"So, succession crisis or coup?" He asked. "I take it Zorzal is as much a brute as his treatment of Tyuule implies?"

"You should have received a packet on most personalities in the Empire before the party," The spook winced. "I'll investigate that little screw-up. But I recommend you read it before making any judgment calls. And it appears to be both of the emperor's sons against Pina. At the moment that doesn't directly concern us, technically, but…"

"If you wish for peace, prepare for war," Richard sighed. "Okay, so, expand the Long Patrol. Anything else?"

"Yes," The spook bit his lip and glanced at the door between the two MPs who were deliberately ignoring his presence. "We would prefer if you avoided using a coup to stabilise the local power structure; it gets too messy, but we aren't ruling it out as an option. Just make sure things stay stable and the Warrior Bunnies form some sort of government before things in the Empire kick-off."

"… you know they can hear us, right?" Richard asked. "Tara and Tyuule, that is?"

"I am aware," The spook sighed. "I already spoke a little with Queen Tyuule, prior to the assassination attempt on the matter of succession. Now, I will be in touch, if anything else happens. Best of luck."

Before Richard could say anything, the Intelligence officer walked away, disappearing around a corner. Richard sighed.




"Who's fault was this!" Radya screamed. "Which idiot thought killing Tyuule while she was in NATO's hands was a good idea? Now they are crawling over Alnus!"

"Only a few patrols," A newly arrived tribe leader rebuked her. "I understand the power of the otherworlders, sorry, NATO is great enough to crush the Empire, but given how they are treating us so carefully, do we really need to fear them, given they fear us?"

"There is more than one way for our people to be destroyed," Radya spat back. "Now, who was responsible?"

"None of us," One of Radya's lieutenants replied. "I think she acted on her own. She wasn't close to anyone involved."

"Fine, then it was her own stupid idea," Radya fumed. "We need her alive, for now, as proof. A point for our people to rally against, given her betrayal."

"What are you suggesting we do?" Another newcomer asked.

"I have found another pure-blood that is eligible to be queen," Radya lied. "We merely need to rally enough support for her to be crowned, over Tyuule being restored."

In truth, the young woman wasn't pure-blooded. But she looked like she was and had no one close to her that was able to verify claims to the contrary. With her in Radya's camp, alongside enough supporters that could unseat Tyuule, Radya was confident her victory was set, if not in stone, then at least in clay.

"We aren't likely to get enough support," The tribe leader replied. "Most of my people, and many others, are thankful to be free of the Empire, have roofs over our heads, warm clothes, good food, and some land to live on."

She sighed.

"The only reason I am supporting you is because we cannot have an impure on the throne, like Tara, nor a traitor," She bluntly stated. "And I am not confident in your plan."

"It will work," Radya hissed. "For our people's freedom."




"Expand the Long Patrol?" Tara asked as the sun was beginning to set. "Given the increased numbers here at Alnus and the increased territory, it would be prudent."

"You heard what he said, I assume?" Richard walked alongside her to their house. "It's more than that."

"No, they fear it might become more than that," Tara corrected him. "But that being said… is Alnus even making enough money that we could afford the increase?"

"Yeah," Richard sighed. "There was an agreement made just yesterday that come next spring, the farmlands are going to be greatly increased and some greenhouses built. We are going to be using Earth techniques to mass-grow local herbs and sell them, alongside some cash crops. Plus, trade is picking up and we are still selling Earth spices. The mines are also going to be profitable."

A cough from behind them attracted their attention.

"Excuse me," Lelei said gently as they turned to face her. "But if you are expanding the Long Patrol, would you have a use for mages?"

Richard blinked.

"I… am not sure," He said. "Getting bored of the scientists?"

"No," She replied laconically. "My sister is looking for work."

"Uh," Richard awkwardly rubbed his head. "What can she do?"

"Detect metals under the ground," The teal-haired mage explained. "Arpeggio studies the magic of minerals and their properties. She could be useful in a mine."

"Well," Richard said after a moment. "Invite her to Alnus and I'll talk to her. I'll cover the travel expense."

Lelei nodded, before turning and walking away.

"Well," Tara snorted. "Maybe we should discuss this more privately."

"Yup," Richard agreed. "So… what are we going to do about Radya?"

"If she keeps it to being argumentative, nothing," Tara sighed. "We don't need the council for other things, at least."

"It would mean the loss of your people's monarchical traditions," Richard pointed out.

"A small price to pay for our people's survival," Tara admitted. Then she paused. "Wait, did King Duran grant you the mine as a fief?"

"He hasn't, yet, why?"

"Well, that would make you a landed noble," Tara giggled. "How does Richard, King of Alnus sound?"

"Like the punchline of a raunchy joke," Richard sighed as he began to walk towards home once more. "Given what Alnus sounds similar to in English."

"Alright, I will admit that," Tara yielded. "Say, speaking of English, Lelei spoke in English just now… I think her English is better than mine."

"She sounded like an American, so no," Richard snorted before continuing with a faux snobbish accent. "You, on the other hand, are speaking the King's English as well as I do, much better than any American speaking their bastardised dialect."

"Yup, definitely a noble," Tara laughed.

"Hey!"
 
Chapter 75

charclone

Well-known member
The caravan, coming from the East and just outside the borders of Sadera, came to a halt as they sighted the riders.

The Order of the Rose, in full plate, barrelled down on them. Alongside rode members of the Emperor's Guard.

The caravan master took a deep breath to settle his nerves before he stepped forward to meet them. He expected no trouble, as the Knights were well-reputed. They had even driven off bandits harassing his caravan, just a few years ago.

He very quickly paled when, instead of breaking off to carry past while a party approached for news, they came with swords drawn. To his relief, they did not charge, but instead, they wheeled around, surrounding the caravan.

His attempts to discern their moods was barred by their helms, completing their full plate. It was strange, the caravan master noted. He seemed to recall the women knights hadn't worn their helmets previously. It added weight to the pit forming in his gut.

One of the knights, dressed in fine plate and accompanied by another in a lesser suit on one side and one of the Emperor's Guards on the other, approached. A demand for the caravan master to present himself rang across the road.

Swallowing, he stepped further forward towards them.

"How may I be of service?" He asked, his voice wavering with uncertainty.

"The emperor received evidence that your caravan is being used to smuggle illicit goods banned by Senatorial decree!" Pina's voice emanated from her helm. "We, the Order of the Rose, have been dispatched to investigate."

"Of-Of course, your Highness," The caravan master paled. Part of him was furious. If one of his people was transporting illicit goods, he'd have their hide even if the knights didn't kill the fool. He took pride in his skills and integrity. But another part of him was terrified. What illicit good was so important that the Imperial Princess herself would be sent to investigate? Was it just a product of her childhood fantasies? "How may I be of assistance?"

The Guard in his red-swathed armour glared from beneath his helm.

"Have your people step away from the wagons," Pina commanded, signalling her knights forward.

The caravan master hastened to obey.




Pina felt sweat trickle down her neck. She was no stranger to standing for long periods in the sun, but it was unpleasant. Made worse by the anticipation.

The photos had included not just lists, but also locations, helping them find much of the goods. A sword with an outlawed enchantment. Illegal narcotics. Restricted medicine. Unregistered goods. Undocumented, and untaxed, slaves.

Pina had her doubts about whether they had even been legally enslaved. Her right as commander of the patrol gave her authority over the confiscation, so she made a point to have the slaves interrogated and freed, later. Perhaps send them to Alnus, or take them into her own service.

The caravan master, for his credit, seemed surprised at the goods' presence. Furious, even, when the sword and slaves had been brought out.

Getting admissions as to who the buyers were was easy, simply implying that they already knew, based on the photos of the pages, led to the guilty merchants confirming most of them.

Pina was furious that some of her own supporters, family to her knights, were among them, though they were a tiny majority.

Most were friends of her brother, Diabo. The slaves, in fact, had been paid for by him.

"The matter of your complicity will be debated at a later date, Caravan Master," Pina informed the man as he alternated between righteous indignation, shame at his failure to spot his subordinates' duplicity, and fear. "We will escort your caravan the rest of the way to the city. Those directly culpable will be jailed. The rest of your caravan will remain in the city while the investigation continues."

Without a further word to the man, Pina organised her knights to corral the caravan towards the city. All the while, her mind churned as she thought over the consequences.

She should have been happy to bring criminals to justice. Especially with her father's direct support, in the face of the evidence. But there was the nagging feeling of doubt.

The photos were NATO products, no other source could produce them. So the question was, how much did NATO know and why are they helping her by interfering?

Were they just looking to stabilise the Empire? Earn a debt owed to them? Undermine slavery? Cripple the Empire?

And how deeply had they infiltrated?

Those and other questions plagued Pina's mind as she led the way back to the capital.




"So Pina raided some caravan and arrested some smugglers," Zorzal scoffed as he swallowed a bite of fruit, a glass of wine in his other hand. "So what?"

"It matters, brother, because it makes her look like a champion of the people, more than she already did," Diabo didn't bother looking at Zorzal, lounging on a couch and eating, as he scribbled several hasty notes. "And because she has, with the Senate's permission, arrested several of the nobles behind the smuggling. Including several of our supporters."

Zorzal just scoffed, failing to hide his amusement beneath his glass.

"Serves them right," His face split into a grin. "They were spitting in the face of the emperor's laws. We don't need them."

"Brother," Diabo gave his brother a flat stare. "It has weakened our position. Worse, it makes us look incompetent for not catching them ourselves. Pina was well informed to hit that caravan. She may have blackmail against others as well."

"Pina? Blackmail?" Zorzal erupted with laughter, his body shaking, his wine spilling to the floor to Diabo's displeasure. "She couldn't live with herself if she tried!"

"So you say," Diabo countered. "But did it ever occur to you that perhaps our dear sister's honourable veneer was a façade?"

Zorzal fell silent. He stared at his brother for several moments. Then burst out laughing again, his chest heaving and tears swelling in his eyes.

With a sigh of disgust, Diabo just pointed to the door.

"If you are just going to mock, please go," He sighed, looking up at his brother. "I have letters to write and plans to enact so that we do not lose any more support."

With a wave, Zorzal left, stumbling, and leaning against walls as he continued to laugh. After several minutes, the eldest of Molt's children sat on a bench in the open-air atrium. He closed his eyes, chuckling to himself as he tried to steady his breathing.

"Are you well, my prince?" A voice came from the shrubbery behind him. "If you require a healer...?"

"I'm fine Bouro," Zorzal breathed, a smile plastered on his face. "Just amused by my brother's erroneous assumptions."

Bouro made a coughing sound.

"Ah, well, in that case, if it would please you, I have found several women who might fit your tastes," The strange creature said. "I can have them sent to your palace at your leisure."

"Perhaps," Zorzal said. "But later. Now, what is my sister up to?"

"Recently, she has been entertaining guests. She has freed several of the slaves from the caravan and is sending them to Alnus," Bouro replied, almost sounding disappointed. "And her knights have been expanding."

"Ah!" Zorzal smiled. "I should form my own knights! Soldiers and nobles who are veterans, not soft noble women."

"I shall prepare a list," Bouro said."

"No, no," Zorzal waved at the shrub. "I have some brothers in arms from my campaign coming from the East, along with my legions. Oh, and I have some friends who are being released by NATO."

"As you wish," Bouro responded. "Nevertheless, I shall endeavour to ensure you have a steady source of dependable recruits."

"Sure," Zorzal snorted. "That's fine. When I am Emperor, I will need to expand the Praetorian Guard anyway, and replace some people in it."

"That does raise an issue, your highness," Bouro cautiously said. "If your father chooses Pina as the heir…"

"She doesn't have the fortitude," Zorzal grunted, finding his earlier bemusement ruined. "Nor does she understand what being Emperor entail. She may have been born in the purple, unlike Diabo and I, but it is more than just timing. Her mother was originally a concubine, anyway."

"But what if he does choose her, despite that?" Bouro pressed. "What then?"

"We will deal with that if it happens," Zorzal shrugged, uncaring and missing the look that formed on Bouro's face behind him. "It won't. I understand you spies need to live in constant fear, but don't let your paranoia become cowardice."

"Of course not, my prince," Bouro frowned. "Never cowardice. Not if we are to succeed."
 
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ATP

Well-known member
Diablo is still competent,Zorzal still behave like idiot,and Bouro think that he is master behind his back.Poor dude,whoever win,it would be certainly not him.
 
Chapter 76 New

charclone

Well-known member
A.N. School eats up a lot of time and energy, especially papers.

Richard's chest heaved with each breath, and the blade in his hand wobbled as he held it in a defensive position in front of his chest. His legs ached and shook as sweat rolled off his face in thick drops to land near his feet.

He stayed crouched low, tense, ready to move.

Across from him, Tara breathed easier. Her own blade was steady, held firmly with an experienced grip. Her stance was strong and limber, she shifted her weight from foot to foot, swaying on the spot as Richard tried to guess which of his flanks she would attack.

With a lurch, she fainted to her right, then bounced to the left to lash out and tap his hip.

Caught off balance and tired, Richard stumbled as he tried to turn, landing with bruising force on his back.

Richard lay sprawled in the hard dirt of the sparring field, now disused with the end of the festival and the start of the last harvest before winter. Above him, Tara laughed, taking a seat next to him in the dust.

"I think we are done for the day," She said.

Richard replied with a tired, wordless affirmative.

"You were doing well, until that last bout," She continued, placing her hand on his. "I think we pressed too hard."

"Yup," Richard groaned as he pushed himself up and leaned against his lover. "Doesn't help that your people's fighting style is based around bursts of speed and flanking manoeuvres. Very different from how I'm used to fighting."

"Not well suited to fighting in formations, is it?" Tara laughed, sheathing her training blade. "But, like your military's method of fighting, it relies on dispersion and camouflage."

Richard hummed as he sheathed his own training blade, feeling the ache from his muscles start to set in.

"Oh, I definitely overdid it," He groaned. "I am going to be very sore tomorrow."

"Come on," Tara said, sliding beneath his arm to help him up. "Let's get a shower and then rest."

"Unfortunately, I have some paperwork I need to check on," Richard groaned as he stood. "So I need to handle that after the shower, and I think Lelei's sister is supposed to arrive today too."

Richard felt Tara tense under his arm, her arm across his back. Her ears slumped, framing her face.

"We aren't going to escape work, are we?" She said. "You are being recognised as the local lord under NATO by the nearby kings. NATO has you managing Alnus, so they aren't exactly wrong… my people want me to be queen…"

"Whether intentional or not, knowing or not, there are consequences for actions," Richard replied. "I… should have considered the perspective of the local lords. So that is partly on me. I agreed to help, due to my relationship with the slaves we, mostly you, led to the Gate. And you chose to follow me."

"And because of who my mother is, my sister being hated due to her actions, and my appearance," Tara kept pace with Richard as they walked towards their house. "I can't let Radya win, the lunatic is as arrogant as some of the Saderans. But…"

"But you don't want to be queen," Richard nodded.

"Honestly, at this point… I realise I don't get a choice," Tara sighed. "But I won't let them foist some inbred 'pureblood' male on me."

"So, plan 'coup' is a go?" Richard laughed. "More seriously, how do we achieve that?"

"Well," Tara hummed in thought as they turned a corner, joining the main street of Alnus. "Atalli's tribe, recently arrived, have always been strong supporters of my sister. They were outraged when they heard about the assassination attempt, so we can probably rely on them. But the Walled Hill tribe has a feud with them. It's suppressed due to the current displacement, but they may vote against them on principle."

"Fun," Richard groaned. "Okay, so, we need to herd cats. Let's list who we can rely on."

"Well, aside from the catfolk among the Long Patrol, we don't need to worry about them," Tara snorted. "More seriously, I'll ask my sister, but I don't know for sure the full list."

"Alright, can you do that while I head to the office?" Richard asked. "We can talk about it afterwards, before dinner."

"Sure," Tara nodded.

Then they both paused, staring. A small crowd had, once more, gathered before their residence.

It was a weekly occurrence now, with new arrivals expecting Richard to hold court, or locals expecting him to weigh in on an issue.

But there usually wasn't an air of excitement among them, nor were they usually clustered around Hannah.

The Long Patrol Warrior Bunny's face split into a wide grin when she saw the couple, nearly bouncing on her toes as she leapt towards them, a cloth-wrapped bundle in her hands.

"Richard," She grinned. "You remember that treasure my ancestor had, alongside his sword?"

"Yes," Richard strained, pulling his arm away from Tara. "… is that it?"

"Yes!" Hannah cheered. "Another member of my tribe had it, hidden until they revolted and were permitted to head to Alnus."

She gently unwrapped the object, revealing a gold figure.

"One of the Saderan ancestor's standards!" She lifted it, offering it to Richard and Tara. "My tribe agreed that it would be gifted to the Long Patrol, as a symbol of our dedication."

Gently, Richard took it.

Tara's face made a complicated expression.

"… if the question of the queenship were to come up, would your tribe support me?" She asked, her voice tentative. "And on other issues?"

"Well," Hannah blinked. "It would depend on the issue. Our tribe is also much reduced… I think you might have had a small point about our… aggression and unwillingness to fight under another's command."

Tara chewed her lip in thought before she answered. She didn't want to antagonise Hannah, even if she had admitted to the flaw. Richard spoke before she could.

"Um, I don't think this is Roman," He said, gently holding the Golden Eagle in his hands. "No SPQR on it. Instead, it says… uh, heh. Garde Impériale. This is a Napoleonic French Eagle of Napoleon's own Imperial Guard. In very good condition."

Hannah blinked.

"So…?"

"So, this is the standard of another nation, much younger," Richard explained. "… the symbology is probably lost on you and the Saderans, but, well, a young, new noble using this as their standard?"

Richard let out a giggle, causing Tara to give him a strange look.

"Well, well, well," He said, his face stretched into a grin. "If we use this, people will start joking about the Long Patrol conquering the whole damn continent. 'Soldiers of the fifth, if you would shoot your Emperor, well, here I am!' Well, it gives me an idea."

Hannah, Tara, and the other Warrior Bunnies gathered around stared at him.

"So, the issue is that the queen must take a pureblooded male as their consort, correct?" Richard asked. "But what about a different title, a different ruler? Many tribes are gone, and many traditions are already lost. So, why not forge something new, something less bound by history?"

"How does that relate to this … Napoleon?" Hannah asked.

Tara's eyes went wide.

"Well, Napoleon, at the tail end of the failing First French Republic founded the First French Empire from the ashes," Richard snorted. "He lost in the end but is well remembered for his victories and return. Conquered most of Europe. More critically to my point, he established new traditions and rules, because there was nothing related to a French Empire before."

"So, what, we form the Alnus Empire?" Hannah snorted. "Sure. Why not? Better than letting the old crones keep arguing."

"'Three days I stood the plain, liberty's course for to maintain,' Richard sang to himself as he stared at the Eagle. "Vive l'Impératrice."




"You are certain about this?" Radya stared at the agent. "Not some joke, not mistranslated?"

"Absolutely," The agent said. "A Dar amongst the Long Patrol, I saw him with my own eyes and heard Sir Richard talking about an Alnus Empire. He had a Saderan Eagle in his hands."

Radya snorted.

"We aren't going to die for his ambitions. Sadly, this cuts our options short," She grunted. "I will admit, seeing our people ruling over Sadera would be a soothing balm for the pain we endured because of Tyuule. But it must be us, not NATO."

She dismissed the agent, then set about thinking. She hadn't had enough time to consider who she could trust absolutely amongst the new arrivals. A handful here, a handful there, yes, but not whole tribes. She lacked a solid power block, with Tyuule's image slowly being redeemed, in part thanks to the former queen not seeking her throne.

Perhaps, then, something could be done using a small number, to force the issue of the monarchy and put her chosen puppet on the throne?

Radya churned the idea over in her head.




"So, this is your sister then, Lelei?" Richard, sometime after he had stashed the Eagle away, and scheduled meetings to start testing the waters about the idea, had stayed true to his word and had gone to his office to work on the paperwork, despite the aching muscles. Just as the work day began to end, Lelei had come in with a slightly older girl.

"Yes," The mage nodded. "This is Arpeggio."

The brown-haired woman gazed around the office, a dazed expression on her face until Lelei sharply drove her elbow into her side.

Arpeggio made a wheezing sound and gave a glare to her sister.

"Expecting a throne room?" Richard asked, leaning back in his chair. "Well, sorry to disappoint. I'm not technically a lord, but things are getting muddled due to politics. Anyway, your speciality, according to your sister, is mineral magic?"

"Ah, stepsister," Arpeggio corrected with a slight flush. "But I am also versed in alchemy, and I know my written words well."

"Sir Richard is also a scholar," Lelei informed her sister.

Arpeggio paled.

"Ah, well," She coughed and resumed. "I also have several letters of recommendation from archmages in Rondel."

"Given I have no frame of reference for them, I'm afraid that doesn't help much," Richard said. "But I am willing to trust your stepsister's recommendation. As I understand it, you can detect metals beneath the surface?"

"Ah, yes!" Arpeggio began to excitedly explain. "I can detect them quite deep, with high accuracy. I need a sample to attune to, but it can be done. In addition, I know a few spells that can let me move material. It is faster than a dozen men with pickaxes, but it is very exhausting. I can use it to shore up mine tunnels."

"NATO has better tunnelling machines," Lelei interjected. "And don't proposition him. Under the Rurudo tribe's laws, he would be married to Tara already."

Richard blushed, glancing away, embarrassed at Lelei's perspective of the matter.

"Who is Tara?" Arpeggio asked.

"Queen Tyuule's sister, a Warrior Bunny. And the next in line," Lelei bluntly informed her sister, without any emotion in her voice. "Don't anger her."

"Of course not! I don't want to end up dead!" Arpeggio shouted back in response. She flinched, then gave Richard a bow, her face apologetic. "Ah, forgive my outburst, your lordship. If I may be excused? I need to discuss with my sister some details about Alnus she failed to inform me of. But I am still willing to work."

"That's fine," Richard coughed. "I have my own issues with my sister. But there are a few other details first. Lelei, do tell her about your work with the scientists. She will be splitting her time and we need to better understand magic to utilise it."

Lelei gave a firm nod.

Once they vanished, Richard sighed.

"Okay, well, what next?" He moaned. "Oh, right, the meetings tomorrow about the Empire… why did I say that? What was I thinking? Gah! And I am late for my talk with Tara, she'll be pissed if we ruin dinner talking about politics!"
 
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ATP

Well-known member
Napoleon Eagle - that explain who was Hannah ancestor.And,making Tara Emperor would solve many problems.
Radya interpretation is funny,as usual.

And Lelei attitude toward her sister is funny,too - she would suspect her of trying to marry every important NATO officer she would meet.
Why not? Arpeggio would be useful waifu,maybe not for general,but some texas oil baron?

P.S What kind of problems catpeople did in Long Patrol?
 

charclone

Well-known member
P.S What kind of problems catpeople did in Long Patrol?
It was a joke about herding cats. Tara made another, related joke, about catfolk being part of the Long Patrol.

Herding Cats: An idiom denoting a futile attempt to control or organize a class of entities which are inherently uncontrollable—as in the difficulty of attempting to command individual cats into a group (herd).
 
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