David Weber - Hell Hath No Fury

"We are also asking for emergency volunteers from the Talents to fill critical positions in communications, intelligence gathering, medical care, and many other areas. If we cannot fill those needed positions through volunteerism, we will have no choice but to institute conscription."

Shock detonated through every Talented delegate to the Conclave. Even Darcel was stunned by the suggestion. Of all the major Sharonan nations, only Uromathia practiced conscription. Ternathia, Farnalia, Harkala, and New Ternath and New Farnal all relied upon a tradition of voluntary military service. So did virtually all of the smaller Sharonian nations, and even in Uromathia, the Talents were automatically exempt from conscription because they were so relatively scarce, as necessary to the civilian infrastructure as to the mnilitary. What Zindel had just suggested-or threatened-was unprecedented, hadn't happened in over four hundred years, and a roar of protest rose. It hammered at the Chancellery's banner-hung walls and-

"You will be silent!"

Zindel chan Calirath's bull-throated bellow stunned the entire vast chamber into silence.

"By our best estimate, judging from when we initially lost contact with our forces in Hell's Gate," he said into the ringing stillness, biting off each rough-edged, husky word like a sliver of bone, "the Arcanans advanced over four thousand miles in approximately twelve days. They are now little more than forty-four thousand miles from Sharona. If they launch a second-and successful-assault on Fort Salby and continue to advance at the same pace, they could cover the remaining distance to this very city in barely three months. Do not presume to protest anything the Throne demands in a war of survival. We don't have time for it, and I will not let any of you jeopardize all of us. Is that clear?"

No one said a word, and Zindel chan Calirath's nostrils flared with satisfaction.

"Good," he said much more quietly. "Then understand this, as well-all of you. We did not start this war, but we will finish it. We will take back the portals they've taken from us in their treacherous attack.

We will punish the atrocities they have committed against our people. And we will insure that this

'Union of Arcana' will never again pose a threat to us, to our children, or to our grandchildren."

A roar of approval went up, louder by far than the previous protest. Kinlafia found himself on his feet with the rest, applauding madly, yet even as he did, he looked down from the gallery at Chava Busar's face and saw the cold, calculating eyes that watched Zindel with carefully veiled contempt.

When the tumult finally died, Zindel continued his implacable, methodical outline of his preparations.

Troops to be raised and trained, railroads to be extended, shipyards to be built, munitions factories to be expanded, fortifications to be planned and built, weapons to be improved, developed, and deployed … the list went on and on, marshaling the resources of every universe Sharona had ever explored and hammering them into a weapon of war.

"What I require from you," he finished finally, "is the immediate passage of sufficient taxation to pay for these utterly critical measures. We do not have time to wait for formal parliamentary elections. The Arcanans have taken that luxury out of our hands. When those elections are held, I will seek approval of our present emergency revenue measures from that Parliament, but they must be passed now, and they will not be a negligible burden for anyone. This will be an expensive war. Never doubt that. Every Sharonian will feel the bite of higher taxes, and that bite will be deep. Many will protest when they realize just how deep. But when they do, ask them this question. Which do you prefer-higher taxes and higher prices, or Arcanan dragons in your skies, burning down your homes and loved ones? That is their choice. We did not ask for this war, but we will, by the Triad, fight it with everything we have-with every ounce of strength we possess!"

Another ovation met that statement, although it was more subdued than the last one. Talk of things like higher taxes and conscripted labor forces had that effect.

"That concludes my prepared remarks," Zindel said when silence had fallen once again. "Does anyone have questions? Not debate-questions?"

No one spoke for several seconds, but then the Emperor of Uromathia stood in the heart of his own delegation.

"Your Majesty," he began, bowing in Zindel's direction, "and esteemed colleagues, Uromathia shares the profound grief which the heroic death of Crown Prince Janaki has brought to all of Sharona and applauds the Emperor of Ternathia's determination to deal with this crisis."

Something flared deep inside Kinlafia as Chava said the word "Ternathia."

"However," Chava continued, "while no one could deny the necessity of the measures which he has outlined, Uromathia must question whether or not he possesses the authority to demand them." A stir of protest began, but he continued speaking, clearly and strongly. "It is unfortunately true that Crown Prince Janaki's death has reordered both the Ternathian imperial succession and the proposed succession of the Empire of Sharona. And it is also unfortunately true that as of this moment, there is no 'Emperor of Sharona,' nor an Empire for him to rule. There has been no Coronation, and the conditions specified by the Act of Unification for the Empire he is to rule have not been-and cannot, as written, be-

satisfied."

"What are you suggesting?" Ronnel of Farnalia demanded furiously.

"I am simply suggesting," Chava replied, "that this is a time of enormous uncertainty, and that under those circumstances, it is particularly important that all these matters be handled in strict accordance with the provisions under which the nations represented at this Conclave agreed to surrender their sovereignty. Yes, we are at war. Yes, it may be a war for our very survival. But if we are to face our enemies as a single, cohesive whole, we must be truly united, and there must be no question of the legality and legitimacy of the government under which we will fight."

"Come to the point-quickly," Zindel chan Calirath said icily.

"Very well, Your Majesty." Chava bowed once more. "My point is this. The death of your son has invalidated Section Three of Article Two of the Act of Unification. Unless the provisions of that article and section are satisfied, the Act is not binding upon Uromathia or any other signatory power. If there is to be a true Empire of Sharona, then I must respectfully request that the succession be secured as contemplated by Article Two in light of the changed circumstances resulting from your son's lamentable death. Is Crown Princess Andrin ready to marry the son I designate as her groom?"

A savage roar of outrage erupted. Half the members of the Conclave were on their feet, shouting and demanding Chava's ejection from the Chancellery, and Zindel's hands tightened on the podium with such force that Kinlafia expected the wood to crack. Then the gavel crashed down again and again, hammering for order, and all the while, Chava stood in the tumult, eyes defiantly insolent and wearing a smug little half-smile of satisfaction.

The furor died down at last, trickling slowly away into silence. When the entire Chancellery was still once more, the Emperor turned his attention back to Chava Busar.

The Uromathian's smile faltered as Zindel chan Calirath's icy gray eyes bored into him with scalpelsharp contempt.

"The son you designate?" the Emperor said, and Chava actually blanched at the menace in his deadly soft voice. "Haven't you overstepped your authority by presuming to name which of your lecherous, illbred mongrels will have the right to rape my daughter?"

Chava Busar's face went sickly white with shock, then purple with rage.