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Chapter LXIX : Authoritarian
Midday of Somnus, Twenty-Second Day of Autumnmoon
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Hans Unruh only half-listened to his daily briefing from the Ministry. His mind wandered, while his Minister of Infrastructure, a portly gentleman with short blonde hair and a mustache, reported a blockage in the city’s drainage system. Apparently, rains had flooded the damaged districts to the north, which prompted the Minister of Health to express serious concerns. It seemed the city was unable to recover a few bodies of blast victims, and now there was risk of rainwater, polluted with decomposing flesh, seeping into the city’s drinking supply. It was a health hazard in the making.
Hans didn’t deny that the issue was important. What bothered him was that Henrich had instilled a habit among his ministers to merely report on the issues, rather than fixing them. Perhaps the prior king had so much time on his hands that he didn’t mind micromanaging his staff. But for a country at war, it was an inexcusable waste of time. Hans tried to force these so-called professionals to step up and apply some leadership, but they managed to disappoint him with their incompetence.
He had no patience with Kitezh’s style of government. Maintaining the same administrators from one king to the next was a recipe for bureaucracy. And since Hans was only surrogate king, he didn’t have the power to replace his staff. They were considered Józef’s staff, and only the boy could decide who remained employed. If it were up to Hans, he’d have fired the whole lot. He needed men willing to tackle their own problems, while he focused on more important issues.
These included rumors of Angkor’s war crimes, such as the inhumane treatment of Kitezhians within their borders. Initially, Hans had been skeptical of so-called death camps, but now there was mounting evidence. Worse, news had arrived earlier that morn that Angkor had attacked Koba. Hans would have preferred his ministries to report on Angkor’s motives and strategy, so he could understand why they’d violate multiple peace treaties for no apparent gain or reason.
The only silver lining was that it seemed Richard had spread his armies too thin, across multiple fronts, which would no doubt weaken their capital’s defenses. It proved that there was no better time to attack. Hans could have spent his time with the Artisans Guild, checking on repairs of stolen Angkorian airships, or from the one-armed man who had connections with the Saladina Clan Lords. All he needed was enough operational units to fire a shot across the bow, and it would send Angkor’s military into chaos.
Instead of prioritizing these key initiatives, he was held captive by his ministry, while they pontificated over water and sewage problems. Realizing it wasn’t going anywhere, he cut the conversation short, mid-sentence.
“I’m tired of listening to these reports.”
The ministers gawked, looking almost apoplectic that their king had the gall to interrupt them. They didn’t even have the shame to hide their wounded looks, like little girls overlooked at the dance.
He stood up from the table to firm his stance. “Leave my sight at once. And don’t come back until you’ve prepared a list of ideas on how to solve the problem. Now, go!”
He pointed to the door. Slowly and gruffly, the ministers made a procession and left. Hans ignored their angry glares and stayed behind to reread their reports. It was slightly more efficient than their lectures, at least. After a few minutes of slogging through a particularly grim economic warning from his Minister of Commerce, he heard a knock at the door.
“Enter.”
He continued ruffling through the paperwork, chagrinned by the lack of a summary page, when he noticed a middle-aged man with raven-black hair and a long goatee standing beneath the archway. The man’s face was gaunt, and he had a distinctively long, crooked nose. Realizing who it was, he ushered the man inside and ordered him to close the door behind him.
“Sit down. I told you before: no one is to see us together.”
Like many other rulers, Hans felt it prudent to hire a few followers known only to himself. They didn’t work in an official capacity, since it would have violated the terms of his surrogacy. Nevertheless, they swore an oath to obey only him, while forsaking their allegiances to the Brandt royal family. It was imperative the Ministry never found out.
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
“I told you before, Sire. When I come and go, no one is any wiser.”
Hans didn’t feel reassured, but he learned to trust the tactfulness of his men.
Shortly after taking control of Rungholt, he sent several of these trusted allies to Loulan, hoping to learn more on the whereabouts of late King Brandt’s brat of a son. It never sat right with him that Józef insisted on leaving the capital. Much less with that dog, the Gnostic. Partnering with one of Richard’s curs ought to be an insult to anyone in Kitezh.
Nevertheless, he hoped Józef never made it to the end of his journey. At least if the prince were out of the way, Hans wouldn’t worry that his impulsiveness or lack of experience might harm Kitezh’s ability to defend itself. In fact, Hans had already gamed through the consequences.
Since Henrich had only one son, upon the heir’s death, Kitezh would need to start a process known as the Order of Succession, in which the Ministry determined the most capable next of kin. Of course, during war time, they would postpone such activities, which would allow Hans to name himself King Pro Tempore, thereby elevating his powers while things were sorted out. At that point, he had plans to create some legal permanence to his rule and finally rid the country of the Brandt lineage.
Now, with his trusted contact sitting beside him, it was his chance for a long-awaited update. “Go on, then. Tell me what you’ve learned.”
The man cleared his throat. “It seems the rumors were true. Angkor attacked Loulan six days ago with their air fleet. According to our reports, their target appears to have been the sunstone.”
Hans rolled his hand, ready to skip to the most important part.
“What about the prince? Did he … survive the assault?”
The man responded in a level tone. “Yes, my Lord. We found Prince Brandt safely in the company of the emperor. For some reason, Angkor left the city intact after seizing their sunstone.”
Hans scoffed. “What? Are you sure?”
His train of thought was broken by these strange new motives. Angkor leveled Kitezh’s capital, yet they spared Koba’s. It seemed absurd to open a new theater of war, while leaving their opponent strong enough to strike back. They should have inflicted maximum damage, or they’d leave themselves open on two fronts.
The sunstone couldn’t have been their primary target. He remembered Konrad telling him stories from the Gnostic Knight, but he’d drop dead before he believed in demons and otherworldly powers. Yet, his reports were clear that Angkor pulled Kitezh’s sunstone from the wreckage of Rungholt Castle and departed with their air fleet shortly thereafter. Something surely possessed Richard to seize these deceptively simple religious trinkets. Perhaps some kind of trophy of war. But a primary target, it was not.
The hook-nosed man continued, unperturbed by Hans’ reaction. “The report is quite clear, my Lord. I came as soon as the carrier pigeon arrived, as you commanded.”
Hans reached over and ripped the papers from the man’s hands. “Let me see.”
The man shrank away as Hans furiously thumbed through the pages.
“Troops arrived on Primoris … evidence of damage at the west gate … also, evidence of crashed airships in the surrounding countryside, likely disabled by anti-aircraft ballistae ….”
Hans smiled. It was the best news he’d heard so far. Not only did it imply a diminished air fleet, but it proved that ballistae were an effective weapon.
The only problem was that it was perplexing. Angkor had a first strike advantage. They could have limited their casualties by avoiding a frontal assault. He wondered if it was a miscalculation. Perhaps, Richard was losing his edge.
Reading further, Hans saw that Bram Morrison had departed on a ship to Vineta. It was probably just a ruse. More likely, the Knight would reroute the ship to Angkor and report back to his liege. Even so, Crook-nose was right. Oddly enough, the evidence seemed to suggest the sunstone was the primary target.
Hans shrugged. After all, intelligence was only as good as the source. Still, it made him wonder if Angkor found something notable about those old rocks ….
“Sire.” Crook-nose’s voice once again broke his concentration. “Do you have any further orders concerning our bounty?”
Hans sighed. The man was clearly referring to Prince Brandt. He supposed he needed to give Józef some credit for reaching Loulan. But his survival was now a complication. He couldn’t allow the boy to return to Rungholt. Not when so much was at stake.
Hans cringed, thinking of all the progress he made, which could so easily be undone on the prince’s whim. Józef had no experience governing and no concept of military strategy. He would treat the country’s future like a sport, using men’s lives as if they were gambits in a game.
Fortunately, Hans had prepared a contingency. To the north of Kitezh, hidden within the Glacial Ocean, was a solitary island that contained a small prison. Ulrich Brandt had approved its construction many years ago for criminals who needed to ‘disappear’ without due process. Józef was far more valuable alive, so he could provide some of the royal family’s closest secrets.
Hans believed he knew the locations of the family vaults, which contained valuable treasures that could keep the war well-funded. If he were to interrogate the boy and extract this information, he could relocate the treasures without the Ministry knowing. Then, all that remained was to execute his plans as if Józef were dead.
His mind was made up. Turning to Crook-nose, he spoke with an appropriate level of gravity. “Yes. Execute the plan as we discussed. It is … for the good of Kitezh.”
The man nodded and discreetly left the room. Hans massaged his temples, thinking how much easier it would have been, had the prince simply perished in the attack. He closed his eyes, but only for a moment to collect his thoughts. He still needed to make sure his doddering Ministry was capable of fixing his city’s broken water system.