Percepliquis

CHAPTER 14

The ceiling of the grand imperial throne room was a dome painted to mimick the sky on a gentle summer’s day, and Modina still thought it beautiful. Dressed once more in her formal gown, she sat on the gaudy bird-of-prey throne with the wings, spread into a vast half circle, forming the back of the chair. The throne was mounted on a dais that had twelve steps to climb. She could not help remembering the days they had forced her to practice before it.

“Do you remember the board you ordered sewn into my dress?” she asked Nimbus, who looked suddenly uncomfortable.

“It worked,” he replied.

“Who’s next?”

Nimbus studied the parchment in his hands. “Bernard Green, a candlemaker from Alburn.”

“Send him in, and get another log on the fire. It’s freezing in here.”

Unlike the great hall, the throne room was rarely used, or at least that had been the case until now. When the empress had been a mythical creature, the room had been sealed. Now that she existed in the flesh, the room was opened once more, but it always felt cold, as if it would take time to recover the warmth after those years of neglect.

Nimbus waved to the clerk, and a moment later, a short, soft-looking man entered. His eyes were small, his nose narrow and sharp. Modina immediately thought of a squirrel and recalled how she used to remember the court of Ethelred by similar associations before she learned their names.

“Your Grand Imperial Eminence,” he said with a shaky voice, and bowed so low his forehead touched the floor.

They all waited. He did not move.

“Ah-please stand up,” she told him. The man popped up like a child’s toy, but he refused to look at her. They all did that. She found it irritating but understood it was a tradition and it would be even more unnerving for them to try to change. “Speak.”

“Ah-Grand Imperial Eminence-I, ah-that is-ah-I am from Alburn, and I-am a candlemaker.”

“Yes, I know that, but what is your problem?”

“Well, Your Grand Imperial Eminence, since the edict, I have moved my family here, but-you see-I have little means and no skills other than making candles, but the merchant guild refuses to grant me a license of business. I am told that I cannot have one as I am not a citizen.”

“Of course,” Nimbus said. “Citizenship is a prerequisite for applying to a guild and only guild members are allowed to conduct a trade within the city.”

“How does one obtain citizenship?” Modina asked.

“Usually by inheritance, although it can be granted to individuals or families as recognition for some extraordinary service. Regardless, one must be a member of a guild to gain citizenship.”

“But if you need to be a guild member to apply for citizenship and you need to be a citizen to be a guild member, doesn’t that make it extraordinarily difficult to become a citizen?”

“I believe that is the point, Your Eminence. Cities guard against invasions from outside tradesmen that might disrupt the order of established merchants and reduce the profitability of existing businesses.”

“How many citizens are there?”

“At present, I believe about ten to fifteen percent of the city’s population are citizens.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Yes, Your Eminence. It’s also a drain on the treasury, because only citizens are required to pay taxes. Also, only citizens have the right of a trial in a court, or are required to serve to protect the city walls in the event of attack.”

Modina stared at him.

“Shall I summon the city’s merchant council and organize a meeting in order to review the guild policy, say, tomorrow?” Nimbus asked.

“Please do.” She looked back down at Bernard Green. “Rest assured I will address this matter immediately, and thank you for bringing it to my attention.”

“Bless you, Your Grand Imperial Eminence, bless you.” He bowed once more with his head to the floor.

Modina waved her hand and the master-at-arms escorted him out. “I don’t so much mind the bowing-that’s actually nice. It’s the scraping I can’t stand.”

“You are not just the empress,” Nimbus told her. “You are a demigod. You must expect a little scraping.”

“Who’s next?”

“A fellow by the name of Tope Entwistle, a scout from the north,” he replied.

“A scout? A scout follows the candlemaker?”

“He just has a status report-nothing urgent,” Nimbus told her. “And the candlemaker had been waiting for three days.”

A stocky man entered wearing a heavy wool tunic with a little copper pin in the shape of a torch on his breast. He also sported wool pants wrapped in leather strips. His face was blotchy, his skin a ruddy leather. The tip of his nose was more than red; it was a disturbing shade of purple. His knuckles and the tips of his fingers were a similar color. He walked with an unusual gait, a hobbled limp, as if his feet were sore.

“Your Imperial Eminence.” The man bowed and sniffled. “Sir Marshal Breckton sends word. He reports that there has been no confirmed movement by the elves since the initial crossing. In addition, he sends word that all bridges and roads have been closed. As for the lack of movement on the part of the elven force, it is his estimated opinion that the elves may have gone into winter quarters. He has also sent several quartermaster lists and a detailed report, which I have here in this satchel.”

“You can give those to the clerk,” Nimbus told him.

He slipped the satchel off and sneezed as he held out the bag.

“And how are things in Colnora?”

“Excuse me, Your Highness.” He stuck a finger in his ear and wiggled it. “I’ve been fighting a cold for a month and my head is so clogged I can barely hear.”

“I asked, how are things in Colnora?” she said louder.

“They are fine in Colnora. It’s the road between that gets a tad chilly. Course I can’t complain. I’ve been up on the line in the wilderness and there it is colder than anything. Not even a proper fire allowed, on account of not wanting to give away our positions to the elves.”

“Is there anything you need?”

“Me? Oh, I don’t need much. I already had me a good hot meal and a sit near a hearth. That’s all I need. Course a soft, warm place to sleep awhile before I head back would certainly be appreciated.”

Modina looked at Nimbus.

“I will inform the chamberlain,” he told her.

“Thank you, Your Eminence,” the scout said, and bowed again before leaving.

“I never really thought about how it must be out there for them, waiting,” Modina said.

“Next is Abner Gallsworth, the city administrator,” Nimbus said, and a tall, thin man entered. He was the best dressed of the lot that morning, wearing long heavy robes of green and gold draped nearly to the floor. On his head was a tall hat with flaps that drooped down the sides of his head like a hound’s ears. His face was long and narrow, qualities made more noticeable by the sagging of age.

“Your Imperial Eminence.” He bowed, but more shallowly than anyone else so far, and there was no scraping to be seen. “While I am pleased to report that all the provisioning you have commanded has been achieved, and that the city is functioning at high efficiency, I nevertheless regret to tell you that there is a problem. We are becoming overcrowded. Refugees are still arriving from the surrounding towns and villages-even more so since the news of troops sealing the roads and passes has leaked into the countryside.

“We now have several hundred people living on the streets, and with the winter’s cold, I have daily reports coming across my desk of frozen corpses in need of disposal. At present we are carting the bodies outside the walls and piling them in a fallow field to await a spring burial. This solution, however, has attracted wild animals. Packs of wolves have been reported and those still outside the city walls are complaining. I would like to request permission to dispose of the bodies at sea. To do this, I will require access to a barge. As all ships are presently under imperial edict, my request has been repeatedly denied. Hence I am here, appealing to you.”

“I see,” Modina said. “And what provisions have you made to prevent the future deaths of more refugees?”

“Provisions?” he asked.

“Yes, what have you done to stop the peasants from freezing to death?”

“Why… nothing. The peasants are dying because they have no shelter. They have no shelter because they cannot afford any or none can be found. I can neither create money nor construct housing. Therefore, I do not understand your question.”

“You cannot commandeer ships to dispose of bodies either and yet you stand before me requesting that.”

“True, but a barge is an achievable goal. Preventing future peasants from dying is not. The city has been overcrowded for weeks and yet just this morning another large group has arrived from Alburn. There are perhaps fifty families. If a viable solution is what you desire, I suggest preventing any more displaced people from entering the city. Seal it off and be done with it. Let those that come here looking for charity learn that they must provide for themselves. Allowing them entry will only cause a higher rate of mortality.”

“I suspect you are right,” Modina told him. “I also suspect you would feel quite differently if it was you and your family standing on the other side of our locked gate. I am the empress of all the people. It is my responsibility to keep them safe, not the other way around.”

“Then please tell me what you would like me to do, for I can see no solution to this problem. There is simply no place for all these people.”

Modina looked around her, at the painted dome and the great stone hearth burning the new log she had ordered.

“Chancellor?” she said.

“Yes, Your Eminence?” Nimbus replied.

“How many people could we fit in this hall?”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, then pursed his lips. “Perhaps a hundred if they do not mind squeezing together.”

“I think if faced with freezing to death, they will not mind.”

“You will open the throne room to the public?” Gallsworth asked, stunned. “How will you conduct the business of the empire?”

“This is the business of the empire, and no, I am not going to open the throne room to the public.” She looked at Nimbus. “I am opening the entire palace. I want the gates opened at once. Line the halls, corridors, even the chapel. I want every square inch used. There will not be a single man, woman, or child left in the cold as long as there is any room to spare. Is that understood?”

“Absolutely, Your Eminence.”

“Furthermore,” she said, turning to Gallsworth, “I want a study done of the city to locate any other sources of shelter that could be utilized. I don’t care how hallowed or privileged. This is an emergency and all space is to be used.”

“You’re serious?” he said, amazed.

“I will not have my people dying on my doorstep!” she declared in a raised voice that left no room for question.

Guards looked up, concerned by her unusual outburst. Servants appeared nervous and several noticeably cringed. The city administrator did not. He remained straight, his eyes focused on her own. He said nothing for a moment; then his lips began to move about as if he were sucking on something, and finally he began to nod.

“Very well,” he said. “I will begin to look into the matter, but I can tell you right now where there is a large unused space. The Imperial Basilica of Aquesta has the capacity to house perhaps a thousand and at present is home to no more than eight individuals.”

“If you knew this, why did you not say something before?”

“I would never presume to fill the house of god with poor, filthy peasants.”

“Then what in Maribor’s name is it for?”

“The Patriarch will not be pleased.”

“Damn the Patriarch!” Modina barked. “Nimbus-”

“At once, Your Eminence.”

“Why are the two of you not asleep?” Modina asked, entering her bedroom to find Mercy and Allie wide-awake.

Modina insisted that Allie stay in her room as part of her initiative to free up as much space as possible. When Allie asked for Mercy to join them, Modina could not refuse. Now both girls were in their nightgowns, wrapped in blankets, facing the darkened, frost-covered window. At her question, the girls looked at her and then quickly wiped their cheeks.

“Too cold,” Mercy replied unconvincingly, and sniffled.

“It’s freezing,” Allie agreed. “We couldn’t even play outside today.”

“Even Mr. Rings won’t set foot out there.” Mercy glanced to where the raccoon was curled up near the fire.

“It is very cold, isn’t it?” Modina said, looking out the window at the starry sky. The night was always clear when the temperature was frigid.

“It freezes the water in your eyes!”

“It makes my ears hurt.”

Modina put her hand to the frosted glass-the same window she had spent so many hours kneeling before. It was like ice to her touch. “Yes, the cold is troublesome, but it might just be the miracle we need.”

“We need it to be cold?” Allie questioned.

“Well, if Mr. Rings won’t go outside, I don’t suspect anyone else will want to be out there either.”

“You mean the elves?” Mercy asked.

“Yes,” she replied. She didn’t see the point in lying.

“Why do they want to kill us? Allie is an elf, but she doesn’t want to kill us, do you?”

Allie shook her head.

“I don’t know why,” Modina said. “I’m not certain anyone knows. The reason is likely very old, too old for anyone to remember.”

“Will they-will they kill us when it gets warmer?” Allie asked.

“I’m not going to let them. Your father isn’t going to let them either. Is that why you were crying? You miss him, don’t you?”

The girl nodded.

“And you?” Modina looked at Mercy.

“I miss Arcadius and Miranda. She used to put me to bed at night, and he would tell me stories when I couldn’t sleep.”

“Well, I think I can help with that. I know a story-a story that a dear friend once told me when I was feeling very bad. So bad, in fact, that I couldn’t even eat. How about we get more wood for the fire, curl up in my big bed, and I will tell it to you?”

She watched the two padding about in their bare feet, collecting armloads of split logs.

The empress smiled.

Everyone commented on how gracious she was for taking them in and sharing her personal chambers. Although, there were some who thought that it was a political ploy-that her generosity was extended to make it impossible for any duke to suggest such indignities were beneath him. This was not the reason, only a convenient secondary benefit. Modina did it because she had promised Wyatt she would look after Allie, and she meant to fulfill that oath. As there was no separating the two girls, Modina inherited twins. Having done so, she realized that even if Wyatt returned that night, and the winter melted to summer and all the problems with her kingdom were swept away by some miracle, she would still want the children to live with her. Carefree laughter was something Modina had not heard in a great while. She had stared out her window at a free blue sky to avoid the gray world of grim-faced men. Now a bit of that sky bounced within her chambers. They reminded her of Maria and Jessie Caswell, childhood friends who had died too soon.

She tucked the girls in and lay beside Allie, stroking her hair.

“This is called Kile and the White Feather. The father of the gods, Erebus, had three sons: Ferrol, Drome, and Maribor. They were the gods of elves, dwarves, and men. He also had a daughter, Muriel, who was the loveliest being ever created. She held dominion over all the plants and animals. Well, one night Erebus became drunk and… well, he hurt his own daughter. In anger, her brothers attacked their father and tried to kill him, but of course, gods can’t die.

“Filled with guilt and grief, Erebus returned to Muriel and begged her forgiveness. She was moved by her father’s remorse but still could not bear to look at him. He begged, pleading for her to name a punishment. He would do anything to win her forgiveness. Muriel needed time to let the fear and pain pass, so she told him, ‘Go to Elan to live. Not as a god, but as a man to learn humility.’ To repent for his misdeeds, she charged him with doing good works. Erebus did as she requested and took the name of Kile. It is said that to this day, he walks the world of men, working miracles. For each act that pleases her, Muriel bestows upon him a white feather from her magnificent robe, which he keeps in a pouch forever by his side. Muriel decreed that when the day came when all the feathers were bestowed, she would call her father home and forgive him. It is said when all the gods are reunited, all will be made right and the world will transform into a paradise.”

“Empress?” Mercy said.

“Yes?”

“When you die, do you meet others who have died?”

“I don’t know. Who is it you want to meet?”

“I miss my mother.”

“Oh, that’s different,” she told her. “I am quite certain daughters and mothers are always reunited.”

“Really?”

“Of course.”

“She was very pretty, my mother. She used to say I was pretty too.”

“And you are.”

“She told me I would grow up to be a fairy princess one day, but I don’t think I will now. I don’t think I will grow up at all.”

“Don’t talk like that. If your mother said you would be a fairy princess, you trust her-mothers know these things.” She hugged the girl and kissed her cheek. Mercy felt so small, so delicate. “Now it is late and time for you to go to sleep.”

A bright moon was rising.

Modina thought of the fifty-eight men outside, pitched on a snowy hillside, ordered by her to remain in the cold. Some would lose fingers, others toes, noses, or ears, and some might be dying right then, like her father almost had the night of the blizzard. They might be huddled in a shallow frozen hole they had chipped out of the snow, trying in vain to keep warm with only a thin wool blanket and a few layers of clothes separating them from the bitter winds. They would shiver uncontrollably, their teeth chattering, their muscles tight as they pulled into balls, snow and ice forming on their beards and eyelashes. The unlucky ones would fall into a deep warm sleep, never to wake up.

She thought of the men, imagined their pain and fear, and felt guilt. They were dying on her command, but she needed them to be there. As much as she wished it could be better for them, as much as she wished she could pray for warmer weather, she looked out at the sparkling stars and whispered, “Please, Maribor, I know I am not your daughter. I am but a poor peasant girl who shouldn’t even be here, but please, please make it stay cold.”

She fell asleep and woke a few hours later. The room was dark, the new logs having burned low, and everything outside the covers felt chilled.

It was Mercy who had woken her. She was kicking and twisting in the covers, her eyes still closed. She wrestled, her arms twitching, her eyes darting fretfully under her lids. From her mouth came fearful utterances like the cries of terror from one gagged.

“What’s wrong with her?” Allie asked with a sleepy face and matted hair.

“Bad dream, I suspect.” Modina took hold of Mercy’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Mercy?” she said. “Mercy, wake up.”

The little girl kicked once more, then lay still. Her eyes fluttered open and then shifted left and right nervously.

“It’s okay. It was just a bad dream.” Mercy clutched at Modina, shaking. “It’s all right, everything is okay now.”

“No,” the little girl replied with a hitching voice. “It’s not. I saw them. I saw the elves coming into the city. Nothing stopped them.”

Modina patted her head. “It was just a dream, a nightmare brought on because of what we were saying just before you fell asleep. I told you I won’t let them hurt us.”

“But you couldn’t stop them-no one could. The walls fell down and flying monsters burned the houses. I heard the men screaming in the fog. There was lightning, the ground broke, and the walls fell. They poured in riding white horses all dressed in gold and blue.”

“Gold and blue?” Modina asked.

She nodded.

Modina’s heart felt as if it skipped a beat. “Did you see the elves when you escaped the university?”

“No, just the flying monsters. They were really scary.”

“How did you know they dressed in gold and blue?”

“I saw them in my dream.”

“What else did you see? Which way did they come?”

“I don’t know.”

“You said they were on horses. Did they arrive here on horses or did they come by boat?”

“I don’t know. I just saw them on horses coming into the city.”

“Do you know which gate?”

She shook her head, looking more frightened as Modina quizzed her. The empress tried to calm down, tried to smile, but she could not. Instead, she stood up. The floor was cold, but she barely noticed. She paced, thinking.

It’s not possible for a child to see the future in a dream-is it? But that’s what the Patriarch said when he was quoting at the meeting. “They came on brilliant white horses, wearing shining gold and shimmering blue.” Still, that ancient account might not apply to these elves.

“Can you remember where you were when you saw them enter the gate?”

Mercy thought a moment. “We were on the wall out front of the courtyard, where Allie and I play with Mr. Rings.”

“Was it day or night?”

“Morning.”

“Could you see the sun?”

She shook her head and Modina sighed. If only she-

“It was cloudy,” Mercy told her.

“Could you tell which side the sea was on while looking at the gate?”

“Ah-this side, I think,” she said, taking her right hand out of the covers and shaking it for her.

“Are you sure?”

The girl nodded.

“You were looking at the southern gate,” Modina said.

“You two get back to sleep,” she told the girls, and left them staring as she rushed out of the bedroom, pulling on a robe. The guard outside spun around, startled.

“Wake up the chancellor and tell him I want to see that scout Entwistle right now. I will meet them in the chancellor’s office. Go.”

She closed the door and ran down the steps to the fourth floor without bothering to get dressed.

“You there!” She caught a guard yawning. He snapped to attention. “Get a light on in the chancellor’s office.”

By the time Nimbus and the scout arrived, she had the map of the kingdom of Warric off the shelf and spread out over the desk.

“What’s going on?” the chancellor asked.

“You are from the south, aren’t you, Nimbus?”

“I am from Vernes, Your Eminence.”

“That’s down here at the mouth of the Bernum?”

“Yes.”

“Do you know of any place south of Colnora to cross the Bernum River?”

“No, Your Eminence.”

She looked back at the map for a moment and the two men waited patiently. “So the elves can’t get at us from the west unless they have seaworthy ships, and they can’t approach us from the north because of the mountains?”

She looked up, this time at the scout.

“Yes, Your Eminence, we started an avalanche on the Glouston road and it won’t be clear until late spring. The bridges in Colnora were destroyed as well.”

“And they can’t come at us from the east or the south because of the Bernum. What about the Rilan Valley? Can’t they get through there?”

“No, the snow is too deep in the fields. An elf might be able to walk over it with proper shoes, but he won’t be able to bring horses or wagons. And even if they did, they would still have to cross the Farendel Durat, and those passes are closed.”

She looked again at the map, studying the little lines on it.

“If the elven army was to attack us from our southern gate, how best would they get here?”

“They can’t,” the scout said. “The only bridges across the Bernum River gorge were in Colnora and they have been destroyed.”

“What if they went around Colnora? What if they crossed the Bernum south of there?”

“The river south of Colnora is wide and deep. There’s no ford or bridge except those in Colnora, which aren’t there anymore.”

Modina drummed her fingers on the desk, staring at the map.

“What is it, Your Eminence?” Nimbus asked.

“I don’t know,” she said. “But we’re missing something. It’s not the cold slowing down their advance. Maybe they want us to think it is, but I’m certain they’re circling around us. I think they will attack from the southeast.”

“But that’s not possible,” the scout said.

“These are elves. Do we really know what is possible for them? If they were able to get across, what would that do?”

“That would depend on where they crossed. It could wind up dividing us from Breckton’s forces in the east, or they could walk in unopposed from the south.”

“Your Eminence, I know every inch of the Bernum. I used to float goods down it from Colnora to Vernes with my brother as boys. We worked it year-round. There is no place to cross. It is as wide and deep as a lake and has a deadly current. Even in summer, without a boat, a man can’t get across. In winter it would be suicide.”

The decision was too important to base on the nightmare of a child even though her heart told her she was right. Her eyes fell on the little copper pin in the shape of a torch on Tope Entwistle’s chest. “Tell me,” she said. “What is that you are wearing on your breast?”

He glanced down and smiled self-consciously. “Sir Breckton awarded that to me for successfully lighting the fire signaling the elves’ move across the Galewyr.”

“So you actually saw the elven army?”

“Yes, Your Eminence.”

“Tell me, then, what color are the uniforms of the elves?”

He looked surprised at the question and then replied, “Blue and gold.”

“Thank you, you can leave. Go back to sleep. Get some rest.”

The scout nodded, bowed, and left the office.

“What are you thinking, Your Eminence?” the chancellor asked.

“I want word sent to Colnora to recall Breckton and his troops,” she said. “We aren’t going to survive, Nimbus. Even after everything we’ve done. They are going to break through our defenses, throw down our walls, and burst into this palace.”

Nimbus said nothing. He remained straight and calm.

“You knew that already, didn’t you?”

“I harbor few illusions, Your Eminence.”

“I won’t let my family be slaughtered-not again.”

“There is still hope,” he told her. “You have seen to that. All we can do is wait.”

“And pray.”

“If you feel that will help.”

“You don’t believe in the gods, Nimbus?”

He smiled wryly. “Oh, I most certainly believe in them, Your Eminence. I just don’t think they believe in me.”