Michael Sullivan - Percepliquis

“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.”

“Really?” Amilia asked. “So soon? I thought we’d have a few days at least.”

“I am afraid so, my lady. I’ve had many farewells and found that they are best kept short.”

“You’ve been wonderful,” Modina told him, squeezing his hand. “This empire wouldn’t have survived without you. Every citizen owes you a debt of gratitude.”

Nimbus addressed Amilia while gesturing toward the empress. “We did all right with her, didn’t we? I think that board really helped.”

“Yes,” Amilia agreed, and raced down the steps and hugged him tight. She kissed his cheek, startling the chancellor. “Thank you-thank you for everything.”

Modina motioned for Nimbus to come closer and briefly whispered in his ear.

“Oh yes, the new couple,” Nimbus said, looking at Hadrian and Arista. “Congratulations on your wedding. What will you do now?”

“Yes,” Modina said. “Now that the honeymoon is over and you’ve been duly knighted, Sir Hadrian, what are your plans?”

“Don’t look at me. Arista is running this show. I thought we’d be back in Medford by now.”

“Oh right.” She rolled her eyes. “I could just see you as king in the royal court, listening to the earls and barons griping about who has the right to water cattle on the north bank of the Galewyr, or settling a dispute with the clergy over their refusal to pay a tax on the vast tracks of church-owned land. No, I know how it would turn out. I would be the one left alone in the throne room sorting through the tangled string of a dozen petitions while you’re off hunting or jousting. I’m sorry but I’ve had more than my share of ruling and it would only make us both miserable. That’s why I gave Melengar to Mauvin. It also made it easier to admit Melengar to the empire, as he didn’t have any problem with accepting a governorship as opposed to a crown.

“Do you know what our good knight here has actually been doing with his time? During our honeymoon?” Arista bumped Hadrian with her shoulder. “Why he was too busy to take part in the joust?”

Everyone looked slightly uneasy, wondering what she might say next.

Arista paused a suitable moment to let their minds wander, then said, “He’s been working as the smithy in Hintindar.”

Magnus chuckled, Modina modestly smiled, but Russell Bothwick roared. He slapped his thigh until his wife, Lena, laid a calming hand on his leg. “You’re a romantic, you are,” he said through laughter-invoked tears. “Stoking a forge instead of-”

“ Russell! ” Lena burst out.

“What?” he asked, looking at his wife, bewildered. “I’m just saying that the man has got his priorities all wrong.”

“Well, it’s not like I’m there all day and night,” Hadrian said, defending himself. “The fact is they don’t have one. Grimbald left over a year ago and they have all this work. They’re desperate. I hate seeing my father’s forge lying cold. It was taking twice as long to till the fields with dull hoes and spades.”

“But it hardly seems the best use of time for the last living Teshlor Knight,” Nimbus remarked. “And you.” He looked at Arista. “The last master of the Art… what have you been doing?”

“I learned to bake bread really well.” She too received many surprised looks, not the least of which came from Modina, Amilia, and Lena. “No, seriously, I’ve gotten good. Arbor says I’m ready to marble rye and wheat together.”

Nimbus glanced at Modina, who nodded.

The empress leaned forward. “I would like to ask you both something. The lord chancellor and I have been corresponding on this matter and I think he is right. There is so much that needs to be done. There will be warlords, more uprisings like the riots this spring. With the elves back across the river, goblins have begun raiding again. And of course something must be done about Tur Del Fur.”

“I’ll second that,” Magnus grumbled. “It was bad enough when humans controlled Drumindor; now there’s Ghazel wandering its halls.”

“The empire needs people of good character to guide and protect the people, good arms, strong arms, wise arms. I can only do so much.” She gestured at those in her court. “We can only do so much. The realm is vast and we can’t be everywhere. Plus, there is the matter of stability. While I am alive, the empire will be strong, but even small kingdoms have fractured at the passing of a monarch. The larger the empire, the greater the threat. With no structure in place, no solid tradition to hold us together, the empire could break into civil wars.”

“Two of the things that made the Old Empire so strong-so cohesive,” Nimbus told them, “were the Cenzarium and Teshlor Guild. The Grand Council was created from the best and brightest of both. They maintained order and could govern in the absence of a ruler. Until these institutions are restored-until wizards and knights of the old order patrol the roads and visit the courts of distant governors to ensure they are upholding the law-until they guard the borders of Calis and Estrendor, the empire will not be safe or whole.”

“Imagine what a hundred Hadrians and a hundred Aristas could do,” Modina told them. “And you.” She glanced at Myron. “We need a new university. Sheridan is gone. We can think of no one better to lead such a project.”

“But I-” the monk began.

“Think of it as a bigger monastery,” Nimbus interrupted. “Administering to a larger flock. You will teach them of lore, philosophy, engineering, languages-including elvish-and of course about Maribor. Teams can be sent into the old city to retrieve any volumes that still remain there. They can be the seeds that can help you spread knowledge to all who are willing to learn.”

“We will collect all the works and place them under a huge dome of the greatest library ever constructed,” Modina added.

“That does sound nice, but my brother monks…”

“There will be plenty of work for all.”

“I’ve already started laying the foundation for the scriptorium,” Magnus told him. “It’s five times the size of what we had at the Winds Abbey.”

“And the Cenzarium?” Arista looked at the dwarf.

Magnus smiled sheepishly. “The walls are already going up. If you look out there, to the left, you can see them.”

“So this has already been settled on?” she asked, pretending to sound indignant.

“While certainly no one,” Nimbus replied deftly, “least of all those present here-would ever ask any more of you two, and while you have earned a long and well-deserved rest, I was confident you would not abandon your empress, or the empire you fought so hard to establish.”

“Where’s the guildhall to be?” Hadrian asked.

Magnus pointed. “Across the square from the Cenzarium, of course. Just like in the old city.”

“At least we will be close neighbors,” Hadrian said.

“We can have lunches together.” Arista grinned at him.

“And in between them will be a fountain and statue of Alric, Wyatt, and Elden,” Modina explained.