Chapter 35: Elevation

A rare, peaceful sense of nostalgia settled over Vondi as she pushed the curtain aside and stepped into the throne room. It had been some time since she’d last been in the great hall. She always seemed to get a sense of awed humility when looking out over the long hall with its arched roof towering some two and a half stories above. She shivered at the chill in the air and smiled as it brought back memories. The hall always seemed chilled. She drew in a deep breath and her smile widened at the smell of pine and holly and her eyes looked affectionately at the wreaths hanging at even intervals along the walls. Underlying the woodsy odors was a musty smell and under even that smell was the barest hint of incense. The wreaths were fashioned by several shops in the city, with each shop trying to outdo the others in making the wreaths both intricate and ornate.

Her smile widened even further as she remembered her first time entering the room. She was young, only four or five years old at the time. Her mother escorted her. The Great Hall had been empty, as it was now.

Her mind more on her memories than the present, she wandered over to the raised, stone dais with its ornate balustrade circling all the way around and let her fingers drift softly over the top of it. The railing was three-feet tall, its top a rounded rail of highly polished dark cherry wood. Though the only light came from the one-story-tall, stained glass windows high overhead, they reflected off the cherry wood making it seem brighter than it was.

The small pillars of the guardrail really shone, however. Made of silver-plated iron, they twisted as they rose with ornate curls and circlets bound around them. In the front, facing the bulk of the Great Hall, two small gates, barely distinguishable from the rest of the railing, opened outward.

She remembered her mother presenting the room to her, whispering of its history. Here, the great King Kortho, seventh of his line, had ruled. It was from here that he’d ordered his armies, armies which had gone out and conquered Radgar, their neighbor to the south.

Most kings would have subsumed Radgar into their kingdom – but not King Kortho. Instead, he’d appointed his younger brother to rule over the kingdom, under the dominion of himself. He’d re-titled himself Emperor Kortho and the combined kingdoms of Korthan and Radgar became the Empire of Kortho.

The move was not without conflict. To the empire’s detriment, Emperor Kortho didn’t abdicate the Korthan throne. Instead, he wore two crowns – the gold circlet embedded with rubies, emeralds and diamonds of the emperor, and the more traditional tall, be-jeweled gold crown of the Kingdom of Korthan. The two crowns were made to fit together and were worn as a single head-piece.

Vondi smiled as she remembered her mother’s whispered instruction. Her mother was such a great storyteller. It was a gift Radu seemed to have inherited. They both had a way of making history come alive. Their voices – whispered or not – had a way of wrapping her up in their tales.

Of course, her mother rarely whispered in the Great Hall. She was, after all, the Queen of Korthan while her father was the Emperor of Kortho. Her mother had told her that historic tale as well. She’d told her how the monarchy and empire were eventually separated.

It was many years after Emperor Korthan the first/King Korthan VII had passed. Two or maybe three people had ruled the empire by then but because the Emperor of Kortho was always also the King of Korthan, the Korthan people were generally elevated above those of the Kingdom of Radgar. It came to a head during Radgar’s only revolt.

The revolt was short-lived but Emperor Huand II was both just and fair. He realized the people of Radgar had a reasonable complaint. He looked at the starkly divided conditions between Korthan and Radgar. The Korthans had everything – enough food, good housing, and plenty of coin. Radgar, meanwhile, was still lorded over like a conquered kingdom. The Radgarians worked hard for everything they had and still came up short.

In his wisdom, Huand decided the problem was with the office of the Emperor. The Emperor could not serve two masters. One man could not serve as both the Emperor of Kortho and King of Korthan. Human nature would dictate the needs of Korthan would always come first.

His decision almost caused another war as the nobility of Korthan jockeyed for position. In fact, some minor skirmishes actually broke out between a few of the duchies. A few other dukes and duchesses were assassinated. In truth, there was no one fit to rule Korthan except Emperor Huand.

So, to forestall civil war, Huand had abdicated the Korthan throne to his first wife, Queen Isandra the Just. In one masterful stroke, Huand had placated Radgar – now the Emperor could at least seem to rule fairly over both kingdoms – and ended the unpleasantries between his nobles. Of course, everyone grumbled, but that was a sure sign that the correct choice had been made. As her mother had whispered so long ago, the best deal is one with which everyone can live, but in which no one gets everything they want.

The convention – there was no law requiring it – had held ever since. The Emperor’s or Empress’ first spouse became King or Queen of Korthan and anyone sitting on the throne abdicated in favor of him or her – usually at the Emperor’s order. In rare cases where the first spouse died, the second spouse took over and so on. If no spouse existed, the Emperor or Empress would appoint a Regent until they married.

Vondi glanced at the large, ornate chair centered in the middle of the dais, a thick, soft burgundy rug immediately in front of it. Of course, if this were a normal day the dais would only hold the large, wooden, ornately carved throne and the rug. Things were different, though, so next to the large chair was a smaller, not quite as ornate, wooden chair off to the right side.

The Chair of the Coming Ruler – the chair in which her niece would sit.

She frowned. She still didn’t completely agree with what Radu was doing. She still thought it dangerous and didn’t want to subject her niece to it. But, though she had thought long and hard on the matter, she had no better solution to offer.

Technically, the throne room belonged to Radu’s first wife, Zynna Gobeckli, Queen of Korthan. The emperor or empress rarely had need of so large a hall. Concerned only with the empire as a whole, the empire’s business was almost always conducted in one of the many meeting rooms or antechambers scattered throughout the castle.

When there was need, like now, an emperor or empress could just commandeer the room for their own purposes. It was rare for there to be any need for it, however, and rarer still for the temporary use of the Great Hall to pose a hardship for the Korthan ruler.

She moved to the front of the dais, standing on the three stone steps leading up to it. She looked off down the Great Hall. Much of the room was filled with huge, wooden, mid-backed benches neatly arranged in two rows stretching far back, almost to the massive double doors leading into the room. In the middle of the rows was a wide aisle. Normally, the aisle was bare but, again, the announcing of the next ruler of Kortho was abnormal so a long, ornate burgundy rug with delicate gold filigree stretched from the double doors all the way to the throne.

She glanced at the clean, smooth, gray stone walls generously decorated with tapestries and bunting. She looked at the large, brass lamps between the tapestries, their wicks unlit. She took a deep breath of the musty air as her eyes rose to the wooden rafters far above. Though the morning sun streamed rather brightly through the stained glass, the rafters were still covered in gloom and shadow. It was appropriate since that was the state of her mind.

She didn’t like what was to come – she was fine with Audette becoming the Empress-an, just not why it was being done so quickly – but the Great Hall was prepared for it.

It had taken longer than Radu had thought. She chuckled wryly that Radu had believed he could just declare Audette to have reached her majority and declare her the Empress-an in less than a day. Pushing her majority day forward had been relatively easy – well, not extremely difficult at any rate. He only had to answer to Audette’s mother, Salmet, his second wife.

The imperium was neither patrilineal nor matrilineal. An emperor or empress chose their successor. It didn’t even have to be a blood relation – anyone could be chosen. It was the emperor’s job to choose who would most capably lead the empire. Not everyone in history had chosen well.

Radu’s choice was a matter of some contention between Radu and his first wife. He was bypassing Zynna’s son, Tepi, in favor of Audette even though Tepi was over a year older. It had been the plan for the past several years, though, so both Zynna and Tepi had had ample time to get used to the idea.

Unfortunately for Radu, neither ever had. In truth, Tepi was possibly just as capable as Audette though Vondi considered Audette the more intelligent – but that could just be personal bias. Though he was her nephew, Vondi didn’t like Tepi. He was vain, self-centered and cruel – but he was also astute, manipulative and cunning.

Vondi shook her head, clearing it. If Tepi were ever made emperor, she feared the empire wouldn’t survive – an outlook Radu shared. So, he’d bypassed Tepi for Audette. Ordering her majority moved up over a month hadn’t won him any favors from Zynna, either.

Declaring her the Empress-an had been a much larger headache. The law – old as it was – clearly stated the Emperor-an or Empress-an had to be declared before the leaders of every kingdom. She chuckled again when remembering the pained expression on Radu’s face when he’d been reminded of the limitation. If three of the rulers hadn’t already been in the capital to meet with Zynna, and the other four incidentally on their way for an impromptu summit to discuss the skirmishes on the western and southern edges of the Empire, Radu would have had to wait the full month until the kings and queens were scheduled to arrive for Audette’s majority celebration.

It was just a happy coincidence they’d planned to arrive at the capital a month early and use the extra time to meet with each other about the current state of their kingdoms. Well, that and get drunk together – but that was a foregone conclusion whenever the rulers met. Of course, the coincidence was happy for Radu only. Zynna hadn’t been as jovial.

As it was, it had taken three very long days. Days made longer by Radu demanding she send armed escorts to speed up the travels of the missing royalty. Her brother was adamant about enacting his plan.

“Come to ensure my baby has no way to escape?” A harsh, bitter voice interrupted Vondi’s musing.

Vondi turned and sighed. Salmet looked very angry – and Vondi wasn’t sure she didn’t have reason to be. She knew if she were in Salmet’s place, she would be just as angry.

“Good morning, Salmet,” Vondi replied in a calm voice. She even tried a light smile, hoping to soothe her brother’s second wife.

“It most certainly is NOT a good morning,” the fiery redhead replied. The woman was the source of Audette’s fiery red mane and green eyes. She’d also contributed the myriad freckles across the bridge of the younger woman’s nose and upper cheeks.

Audette had been lucky, she seemed to get the better part of both of her parents. She had Radu’s high cheekbones, kind eyes and thick, luxurious hair. Besides the color of her hair and eyes, along with her freckles, Salmet had provided her small, button nose, full red lips and soft, oval face to her daughter.

Salmet’s temper was legendary – quick to ignite and long-lasting. Her eyes would grow hard as agates – as they were now – and those full, red lips would grow hard and pursed. It was obvious when Salmet was angry – and the woman was currently furious. Vondi couldn’t help but praise the gods that Audette had inherited a mix of her parents’ personalities. The younger girl was equanimous like Radu but when she did get angry, the anger could burn quick and long like her mother.

“You and your brother are sending my daughter off to be slaughtered!” Salmet screeched. “My poor baby is going to be a political sacrificial lamb!”

“You know neither Radu nor I would do that,” Vondi soothed, though she wasn’t so sure she believed it. “We both love Audette, and we would never sacrifice her – not in a million years.”

“No?!” Salmet retorted angrily. She was so angry tears were streaming down her cheeks. “Then why are you sending her away? Why to Wenland where that awful man may have hurt their princess? Why?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do,” Radu said from behind his wife, exiting the curtains which hung behind the throne. The curtains hid the doorway from plain sight. “It will send Wenland the message we were not responsible for whatever the imposter may have done. It is the best chance we have to avoid war.”

“What does war matter, if our daughter is dead?” Salmet screamed. “What matters the world if all we love are gone?”

“Audette will not be harmed,” Radu intoned evenly. “As a diplomat, she’s protected by treaty and precedent. Even if she weren’t, though, she is bright, cautious and capable. Her training has also made her quite deadly. I have every confidence in her.”

“Please, Radu,” Salmet begged, tears streaming down her face. “Please. Don’t send her. Send me, instead. I’ll go. I’ve heard you and Vondi talking. Surely your wife would make a more viable hostage for peace than our daughter.”

“Salmet,” Radu started, then sighed, shaking his head. “Do you not think I’d sacrifice you, my other wives – even Vondi or myself if I thought it would work? Do you think I’d even consider this plan if I thought Audette would come to harm? The worst they’ll do is refuse her and send her back to us before they invade. At best, she’ll convince them we are not enemies, and that the imposter was working on his own. She is our best – and quite possibly our only – chance.”

Salmet’s eyes grew hard as she scowled. “Well, I won’t let her go. Do you hear? She’s staying. I’m her mother and I won’t let her go.”

Audette had followed her father, hesitating when she saw him pause behind the curtain, his ever-present guards standing on either side of the large, ornate archway which led into the throne room. She could hear her mother’s angry voice yelling, but the heavy curtains obstructing the arch muffled it enough to make the actual words unintelligible. She was eagerly curious about what the voice was saying but she knew her father would send her away if he realized she was following him. So instead, she waited. It was only when her father moved through the curtains that she dared move forward.

She smiled and nodded at the guards as she passed. She’d learned at an early age that her father’s guards tended to ignore her if she just acted like what she was doing was expected. Unfortunately, Guardswoman Boyd was clever. The guard couldn’t contain the slight grin and sideways glance. Audette blushed furiously as the guardswoman winked at her knowingly. The woman didn’t block her path, however.

She proved the woman’s unspoken suspicion right when, instead of proceeding into the room, she took her father’s spot at the curtains, listening intently. She heard her father and aunt trying to soothe her mother, but the woman was having none of it. When she heard her mom’s refusal, she closed her eyes and pushed her way through the curtain.

“That’s enough, Mom,” she said evenly. She’d never stood up to her mother before. It had always been more expedient – and much more fun – to work around her. Now, though, she realized she was going to have to grow up. She was, after all, on the morning of her majority. Part of growing up, she felt sure, was dealing with certain issues head on. She didn’t want to be the sneak that her older brother was. “My emperor has commanded me to go. Even more, though, my dad – who has given me everything and asked for nothing in return – has asked me to go. I will obey my emperor’s command and my father’s request.”

Her mother turned on her, the woman’s eyes going wide. “Audette! You don’t understand. They’re sending you to the slaughter.”

“No. They’re not,” the young woman replied placatingly. “It’s Dad and Aunt Vondi, Mom. They love me just as much as you do. They’d never do that to me.”

She took a deep, calming breath to steady herself, just as Ko’Natu had taught her. “The emperor has explained everything to me, mother. As far as I can tell, he’s held nothing back. He’s told me of his suspicions concerning...”

Her father shook his head marginally at her, his eyes glancing around the room meaningfully.

“ ... certain groups and their actions,” she continued, hoping her mother would not notice her brief pause. “He’s explained the stakes and how I might be in a unique position to head off a war. In the end, he laid his position before me and asked me to travel to Wenland to secure an alliance with the possibility of marriage to Princess Ataya, Princess Noro or Prince Gesper. He also broached the possibility of a union with Prince Seffert – which I refused. The boy is only 10 years old. He didn’t order me, mother. He asked me to do this – and I agreed.”

“And he’ll bribe you with the position of Empress-an to do it,” Samlet sneered.

“You’ve known Audette was my choice for years, Samlet,” Radu chided gently. “The one has nothing to do with the other.”

Samlet fell to her knees, crying. “Please Radu. Please. I’ll do anything. Just please don’t send my daughter to her death.”