Prologue
Alis the XIV was carried into the Great City of Garloon on a thirty-man palanquin. The crowds had turned out for her triumph and people cheered wildly along the streets. The Great Arches loomed over her head and the marble and ivory inlays sparkled with the reflection of the sun. Small children sat atop them and showered her with rose petals as she was carried by. The bands played the March of the Marshall and her heart soared with pride. As she approached the last of the Great Arches maidens tossed bouquets of chamomile and peonies into the crowds. The white walls of the High Empress’ palace towered in front of her and on the dias above the grand steps the other Alises sat on ornate thrones, seventeen in total. In the center sat the High Empress Sala, ruler of Farki and conqueror of nations.
She stepped down from her palanquin and pressed the left side of her face to the floor. Sala the High Empress of the Farkian empire smiled down on her from atop her bejeweled throne. “Sister you have returned. Rise. What tidings do you bring?”
Alis the XIV rose from her prostrate position and smiled up at her sister. “We have completed the alliance with the sea isles.” She replied with a grin.
“And what of cores?” Sala asked.
Alis held her grin inside. “We obtained them.”
“How many?”
“All.”
“All?”
“Yes, sister we have obtained all their cores. Enough cores for a thousand years.”
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The High Empress tapped her scepter on her throne and a servant brought forth a chalice of wine. The High Empress walked down the steps and the masses went silent. Alis’ heart quivered with each step. As her sister approached her, she grabbed her chin and poured wine into her mouth. “Now go north and conquer. For I have seen your name written across the sky.”
Alis rose to her feet and the people cheered.
***
Count Delan DeGrem, Lord of Hearthold, straightened his long blue coat off as he stood in the Congressional Hall in Ardinum city. As he walked, he looked above at the great glass cupola. If the astronomers were correct the sun would reflect on the dais during his speech. The hall buzzed with anticipation, but he ignored it as he ascended the stage.
He placed his hands on the podium and began to speak. “Those who know me know who reluctant I am to make long impassioned speeches,” there were laughs in the crowd. It was good to disarm your audience and cut the tension. “Nevertheless, I find it impossible to sit by idly as members of this venerable body advocate a course of action that I feel will produced irreparable consequences. How long will we continue this farce on the Plains of Detre? How long will we devote our military forces to protecting a place and people that neither see us as their rightful rulers nor contributes to the coffers of this kingdom? How long will we send our sons to die? A decade? A hundred years? A thousand?”
He paused and looked around the hall. The sun’s glow was shining on him. Words were important for speech but so was silence. Wait…wait…now go. “It is time to be honest with ourselves, be honest with our people. We must leave the plains and the Onaki to fend for themselves. We must secure our southern border. We cannot continue to fight the Pirate King in the North while skirmishing with the Farki in the south.” He turned to the Majority Leader. “I ask you Duke Massey. Will you commit to entreating the Farki for peace? Will you hear the voice of the people? Will you take action to stop the waste and bloodshed in the south?”
Massey glared at him from his chair. “For if you do not commit to do so I will have to force the vote.” He walked away from the podium just as the sun had moved on. There was cheering and there were jeers.