by Tony Roberts
The other families represented there belonged to the Palanges, Lazisk, Kanzet and Duras families. All had wealth and positions high in society, and all had connections to one imperial dynasty or other. Many of these connections were tenuous thanks to the recent spate of killings amongst emperors, but they all believed they had as good a claim to the throne as the Koros family.
Cledin had each of the visitors given a drink before he began. There were no servants here, as nobody knew if any of them had sympathies with the Koros. The new emperor seemed to champion the lesser man rather than the nobility, which was unheard of. “Welcome, and thank you for answering my father’s invitation. He cannot be here tonight, for as you know the emperor has put a price on his head and he’s in hiding. Thankfully the Koros are as yet powerless outside Kastan’s walls, but it isn’t known how long this will last. I’m asking each of you here for help in ending this tyranny from this usurper, and to restore those privileges which are rightfully ours and that have been wrongfully taken away by this evil man.”
The others nodded. Their families stood to lose much of their power and income if the tax changes threatened came into effect. The fact they paid little or no tax in return for an annual bribe to the palace made no difference to them. They also feared loss of prestige to the Koros and whoever would support them. These families had thrown their lot in with the previous regime and now felt they would be frozen out.
“Already we have taken steps to take care of the heir to the throne, and once this has been achieved we can strike here against Astiras and the rest of his odious family. What we will need is for you to employ people to be ready to take the place of anyone who supports the Koros when the time comes. But we also need to agree on a replacement emperor before we can proceed with any further plan. There are two families whom appear to be eligible to provide a replacement emperor, and it is from one of these which we must agree on a candidate tonight. Each family must decide if they are ready to back us, or if they are too afraid to join our cause, or that they feel they do not have the right man to step into the void.”
“Then it has to be from our family.” The speaker, Ebril Kanzet, was a dark complexioned man of sturdy physique and a background of both military and judicial affairs.
He could reasonably be regarded as a good candidate for the throne. “I would like you all to consider me. I know the army, I served in the east until Epros was lost.” The others nodded. The Kanzet had been strong in Epros until it had revolted and been lost seven years before.
“I have no objection,” Cledin replied, “but what of you others?”
A man with dark, curled hair stood up. He had a beaked nose and dark, inquisitive eyes. “I represent the Duras family. We would be interested but we have reservations in your ability to carry this plan through. Already your intentions have become known to the Koros. Your first meeting was a disaster, was it not? One of those who went there was arrested and told Koros everything!”
“That was unfortunate – and a little careless, yes. Fortunately the others who went to that meeting avoided arrest and are now safely out of Kastan. We are much more careful, as you have seen,” Cledin indicated a guard standing at the exit.
“That is true,” the Duras family representative conceded, “but we would prefer to deal with this upstart general sooner rather than later. We have a number of former soldiers in our pay – mostly the soldiers who were disbanded a few sevendays ago – and we are ready to strike against the Koros. Should you manage to dispose of the heir, then we will throw our support behind you. Otherwise count us out; we have no wish to be part of a bungled conspiracy. We shall strike of our own accord, and if we succeed we may well choose our own candidate.”
“You would lose more should we succeed and you not be part of our movement,” Cledin advised softly.
“Threatening my family is not a good idea, Fokis.”
In the uncomfortable silence that followed, one of the others cleared his throat. “I think we should vote on the candidate to take Koros’ place as emperor. At least then we would have a figurehead to rally to, and have a common cause to support.”
Cledin nodded gratefully to the speaker. “Well put, Thesan Lazisk. May I have a show of hands in support of Ebril Kanzet to replace Astiras Koros as emperor?”
Hands went up. After a pause, even the Duras family representative joined in. It was unanimous. Cledin beamed. “Very well; once the vile emperor’s son is disposed of, we will herald Ebril as emperor and march on the palace. I shall put into place a plan to have people on the inside to open the doors and to kill specific persons that will ensure our success. Not even a soldier such as Astiras will be able to deal with that!”
The day had been hot and tiring, and now the army gratefully threw itself down by the roadside to rest. Night was coming and camp had to be made before the soldiers could relax and cook supper. Jorqel climbed stiffly off his charger and wiped his forehead. He was wet with sweat and glad to have halted.
They’d been through another village and the occupants there had been less friendly, but they had agreed to send their tithe to Jorqel after a bit of persuasion. The prince wondered what kind of reception the next village would bring. The closer they got to Slenna the more surly the folk became. Rebellion was a sickness that needed to be stamped out. This fool in Slenna would be dealt with and made an example of.
Gavan stretched and sighed noisily. He looked up into the darkening sky and inhaled deeply. “Good to be here in the summer. Very different to Bragal in winter, isn’t it?” Then, remembering who he was talking to, hastily adding, “sire.”
Jorqel nodded. He’d done one campaign season there, and it had been hard. The winters were savage and the populace hostile and menacing. Even the animals were nasty. “We’ve got some hard work to do first before we can relax, Gavan. This province is tired of civil war; they wish to be left to grow their crops, to tend their animals, to sell their wares, to build their lives. You can see it in their faces. Our presence here is just a reminder of the troubles they’ve had in the last few years. We need to show them we’re their protectors, not their oppressors.”
“Not an easy task, given we have to smash the rebellion in Slenna, sire.”
“I predict many of the rebels form the garrison. We’ll be fighting people trained similarly to us and using the same weapons and tactics.”
“But not as experienced, sire. We have veterans of the Bragal War; whereas they are provincial garrison troops. Untried, unbloodied.”
“You speak the truth, Gavan. The men - are they confident? Do we need to train them more?”
Gavan shrugged. “They are in good spirits, but once the summer fades and we have to endure yet another winter in the field, we’ll find out for sure. Do you think Slenna will fall easily, sire?”
“That I do not know. I have never been here before. I’m told Slenna has wooden walls and a wooden castle. Not all that strong. But we do not have any siege equipment, so I suspect we’ll have to starve them out.”
“Would that be a worry, sire?” Gavan asked, a smile across his face.
“No,” Jorqel answered in kind. He looked at the men digging the ditch to mark the camp’s perimeter, and at those erecting tents and building fires. “Such a small number of men with such a large responsibility.”
Gavan looked at the men, too. He said nothing. He was confident they would do their task. Even though they numbered less than six hundred, they should be better than what awaited them ahead at Slenna.
CHAPTER NINE
For Isbel, the palace slowly took on the appearance of a home over the next few sevendays or so. More people they approved of and selected from the many applicants who wished to work there were taken on, and those they thought sympathised with the previous regime released.
One of the new arrivals was Vosgaris Taboz. He’d finally decided that being captain of the Palace Guard was preferable to that of town guard captain, particularly when Teduskis had begun to recruit a new army to ta
ke part in the new campaign in Bragal. The very name sent shudders down his spine. He left the chaotic world of the barracks and found himself in a more serene, controlled environment.
Isbel took on the task of teaching him his duties. Astiras was happy for her to do so, having the typical regular army attitude that the palace guard were toy soldiers and not to be taken seriously. Isbel didn’t want him upsetting the new captain, especially as he looked absurdly young, although he did insist he was eighteen and old enough.
When she wasn’t showing Vosgaris his duties and functions, she handled the letters sent to the palace. Once the entire empire realised they had – yet again – a new emperor, letters of congratulations and appeals came to them from the provinces. There were even letters from those areas not currently under imperial control but which had been, until recently. It seemed there were still plenty of supporters in the rebellious areas who wished for a return to imperial rule, no matter who was on the throne.
Isbel realised she would have to employ scribes and secretaries to handle the correspondence. The sticking point was affordability; she approached Frendicus who told her there was precious little available for salaries since much of what there was had gone into the military pot. She would have to wait until the tax collectors had gone out, collected what was due, and the coming year’s expenses calculated. Only then they would know what was in the treasury and what could be afforded.
The other worry on the horizon was her husband’s very public announcement that he was to lead a new army into Bragal to end the uprising there. Since the withdrawal of the army in the early part of the year, Bragal had almost assumed the role of an independent nation. They had even begun to send out ambassadors to other kingdoms trying to secure trade deals and recognition. What Mazag and Venn, the two other nations bordering Bragal, thought, was not known. Both would probably prefer to own Bragal than see it rise as a new nation.
Isbel knew he would be gone before the end of the year and in his absence she would need to run the empire from the palace. So there had to be in place some sort of structure to enable her to manage affairs. Her consistent appeals to him to include her in matters of state were met with firm rejections at first, but finally she persuaded Frendicus and Pepil to support her and their voices added to the pressure to allow Isbel access to the council meetings.
One newcomer was of interest; the released prisoner Sereth, a counsel of some skill and experience. Once he’d assured her that he was loyal to the new regime who, after all, had released him from an unjust period of captivity, and that he knew the intricacies of palace politics, Isbel took him under her wing and kept him close to her. This was partly due to her not wishing to let him out of her sight, as she didn’t entirely trust the oily smiling man, but also partly because she wanted such a man working for her and nobody else.
Sereth was introduced to the other members of the Council, Frendicus, Pepil, Vosgaris, Amne and Astiras. Isbel now had an overwhelming number of people hectoring Astiras to allow her in on the meetings and Astiras grudgingly gave in. Amne was after all a member, so it couldn’t be argued that because Isbel was a woman she couldn’t be allowed in.
The Council met every other day or daily if an emergency arose. At the meetings, which usually lasted the entire morning, all the issues of the last few days were aired and discussed. Each member presented a list of issues they wished to be talked about, and they would then thrash them out in turn. Some needed just a few moments to discuss while others took quite some time.
Astiras was chairman, as was expected, and Pepil the minute taker. Frendicus was there because as the chief finance minister he would need to veto anything that proved too expensive. Amne was representing the diplomatic office while Vosgaris was there as internal security minister, a post that came with being captain of the Palace Guard. Sereth was surprised to see how few people there were, an indication that things had changed in the time he’d been imprisoned. Astiras informed the newcomer that as the empire had shrank so much in the last few years and costs had to be cut, he’d got rid of all the unnecessary people who didn’t seem to represent anything. The other cost cutting exercise he’d performed a few days ago was to get rid of the bloated look of the various palace offices, reducing their numbers down to the bare minimum. Both Pepil and Frendicus looked aggrieved but Frendicus had been reminded, quite forcefully, that he ought to know better as finance minister that it was just not sensible financially to retain staff in such numbers when they could do the job more efficiently with fewer people.
The end result was that nearly a hundred officials had been told they had to leave the palace. That had caused a huge row and the palace guard had to intervene to eject some of the more aggressive of the dismissed staff. One positive result had been Teduskis taking on thirty of them into the new army. They’d been faced with little choice; either join the army and earn a decent wage, or probably starve along with their families.
The remainder had been given a choice of accepting lower paid jobs cleaning the streets, working in one of the lower menial occupations in sanitation, the city watch or in repairing the roads and buildings and so on, or finding a job themselves. With little chance of the latter, these scribes and civil servants mostly took whatever jobs were offered. But they were not a happy lot.
“We’ve lost a lot of good staff,” Pepil complained as the Council meeting got under way, “and I fear the efficiency of the palace will be affected.”
“Nonsense, Pepil,” Astiras wagged a finger at the man. “There just isn’t the work for all those who were working in your offices and you know it. If things improve, then yes we can recall these people. Most of them were sitting around doing little other than discuss the weather or what their children did yesterday. I won’t pay them to do that!”
“With just fifteen staff, how can you run the palace effectively?” Pepil whined.
“Hard work, Pepil. You and your staff have grown soft. We’re not going to solve our problems by sitting on our bottoms and complaining; hard work is what’s needed. We need to be leaner and meaner.” He smiled at his inventiveness. Isbel, sat alongside him, winced.
“Don’t be surprised, your majesty, if things take longer to do and are not done properly, that’s all I’ll say.”
“If they do, then we’ll get rid of those working in your offices and replace them with the first fifteen we let go.” Astiras smiled at Pepil but it didn’t reach his eyes. “And if these fifteen don’t improve matters then you should expect to be the next to be dismissed.”
“Your majesty,” Pepil bowed his head in submission.
In the awkward silence that followed, Sereth cleared his throat. “Ah, now I think we ought to direct our attention to our lack of funds. How do we ensure that trade comes in and goes out? With five provinces this is somewhat reduced from the time I was last here.”
“Taxation,” Frendicus began. “The fastest and most guaranteed method of obtaining funds.”
“But not popular with the masses,” Sereth folded his hands across his stomach. He was disappointed that it was nowhere near the girth it had been before his imprisonment, but perhaps a few bouts of dedicated feasting might readdress that situation. “Never a popular move and any new regime should look to reduce taxes and tithes.”
“Which we cannot really indulge in,” Astiras countered, “unless we stop spending anything. We must be seen to repair roads and buildings; they’ve been allowed to rot.”
“The corrupt practices of paying to avoid taxation are being tackled,” Pepil said. “We know who they are.” He smiled apologetically. “I had to – accept – these ‘gifts’ under instruction from your predecessor, sire,” he bowed. “But we are noting down who these people were and Frendicus and his office will soon be armed with this knowledge to start collecting back taxes.”
“Less the bribe money?” Sereth asked.
“Excuse me?” Astiras frowned.
“Bribe money,” Sereth smiled smoothly. “That could be argued
as taxation. Money paid to the governing body is a taxation, whether it be from income or not. Some who have paid these bribes may argue these were taxes and should not be asked to pay that amount again.”
“Are gifts taxed?” Isbel asked.
“No,” Frendicus answered. “Gifts are voluntary and consequently not included in taxation.”
“There you are then,” Astiras pounced. “They bribed a government to exempt themselves illegally from taxation, gifting certain members of the government. They’ll have to pay up.”
“It could also be argued,” Sereth said loudly, then softened his voice, “that those who received the bribe should pay a tax, as this is income. Are all receipts of wealth taxable?”
Frendicus paused, then nodded sharply.
Sereth looked pleased with himself. “Therefore the treasury is owed a fairly large amount from this income.”
Eyes turned to Pepil who gave Sereth the benefit of a hostile glare. Astiras raised his eyebrows. “Pepil?”
“The money was shared between the emperor and his family,” Pepil growled. “We saw none of it, I can assure you.”
“And they are all dead,” Astrias said. “Therefore that line of enquiry can be ended.”
Isbel caught the exchange of looks between Sereth and Pepil. Neither seemed to like the other. Something to watch indeed. She knew there was no point in approaching her husband over this as he wouldn’t be interested. But as the emperor’s substitute when he would be absent, she would watch and deal with it as she saw fit.
“Trade is also an important means of getting income,” Sereth said. “Duty on imports and so forth brings much needed income to the treasury. We should take steps to ensure this occurs.”