Before the imperial courier reached Oksen
Dawn had not yet broken over Avalon when the bell above the Imperial Palace tolled.
Once.
Long and low.
The sound rolled over the towers of the Upper City, echoed from the stone walls, and faded somewhere above the river.
Lights flared one by one in the palace windows. Guards changed posts. In the Postal Chancery, grooms were already leading out the horses, though the couriers had yet to receive their routes.
The bell was not summoning the city.
It was summoning the Council.
Not an ordinary session where the kingdoms were represented by their legates.
This time, the kings themselves had come to Avalon.
That happened rarely.
Valua, Eisenwald, Valskar, and Osmantis were governed from their own capitals. Their monarchs did not live at the imperial court or serve as Alucard's ministers. For day-to-day affairs, permanent legates remained at court—representatives empowered to speak for their crowns within the limits of their authority.
But decisions affecting several kingdoms at once could require the rulers themselves to be present.
The past few months had given them ever more reasons for such a summons.
The troubling reports from the north and east had not arrived all at once. First one detachment vanished. Then another. Then the outposts fell silent.
Taken separately, each incident could still be explained.
Taken together, they were harder to explain.
The imperial summonses had been sent well in advance.
Now all four kings were in Avalon.
They had not arrived together. Each had left behind a long road and the affairs of his own kingdom, set aside for the sake of this session.
At last, the full Council was assembling.
The Hall of the First Law stood in the oldest part of the palace.
It predated most of Avalon's present towers, built when the capital had been more fortress than city.
There was almost no ornament here.
Gray stone.
Tall windows.
A heavy table of dark wood.
Above the entrance, words had been carved into the stone:
No One Stands Above the Law.
Beneath them was the date the Empire had been founded.
A map of the human lands was inlaid into the tabletop.
It was neither a detailed military map nor an exact copy of the terrain. It was more a symbolic model of the Empire: mountain ranges of stone, rivers of silver, roads of copper, and the borders of the five kingdoms.
Avalon lay at the center.
Valskar to the north.
Valua to the west.
Eisenwald to the east.
Osmantis to the south.
Today, the kings occupied the seats normally reserved for their legates.
Volmar Hart, King of Eisenwald, sat before the eastern part of the map. Scrolls bearing reports from his border fortresses lay before him.
Haldor Skarn sat opposite him.
The King of Valskar looked like a man for whom the mere fact of being in the capital had already become an inconvenience. His heavy cloak hung over the back of his chair, and the silver torc at his neck appeared to be the only ornament he wore willingly.
Reno Valeron represented Valua.
Before him lay not only reports from the western roads, but also figures on grain reserves and the flow of trade. Not because he managed the Imperial Treasury—he had no such authority—but because any major movement of troops inevitably affected his kingdom.
The fourth was Azar Maraven.
King of Osmantis.
And Archmage.
Two titles whose powers overlapped far less than one might assume.
As king, Azar ruled Osmantis.
As Archmage, he stood at the head of the Empire's network of Towers.
Each major Tower had its own magister, its own masters, and its own internal order. But in matters concerning the magical system as a whole, the final professional judgment belonged to the Archmage.
That placed Malik Arsaven, Magister of the Tower of Avalon, in an unusual position today.
He sat on the Council as the permanent representative of the capital's Tower.
Yet across from him sat the man to whom he answered in the wider hierarchy of mages.
Malik appeared neither pleased nor irritated by the arrangement.
At least, it was difficult to read anything from his face.
A sealed metal casket stood before him.
The kings' legates stood nearby.
Today, they had no seats at the table.
While a king attended in person, his legate did not speak for him without direct instruction.
On the other side of the map sat those who directed the Empire's common affairs from Avalon day after day.
High Chancellor Sera Veridan.
Before her lay the book of proceedings, several blank sheets, and an inkwell. Beside them were the documents prepared for the Council and drafts of proposed orders.
The head of the Imperial War Office.
He was responsible for the legions, imperial garrisons, supply, and the allocation of military reserves. The royal armies did not answer to him directly; their command was governed by law, treaty, and specific wartime orders.
The Imperial Treasurer.
Several thick ledgers of expenditure lay close at hand, and he looked like a man already displeased with any decision that might cost money.
The High Viceroy of Avalon represented the civil government of the central kingdom.
Not far away sat High Pontiff Orian IV.
The last man at the map was Severan Morn.
First Keeper of the Shadow.
Head of the Imperial State Security Chancery.
He had brought neither books nor scrolls.
Only seven small black pieces lay before him.
All of them had been placed near the northern and eastern borders.
Two more chairs stood against the wall.
Edvar Pendragon sat in one.
Elisia sat in the other.
They were not members of the Council with votes of their own.
Not yet, at least.
Alucard required them both to attend important sessions and learn not from their tutors' accounts, but by watching how decisions were truly made.
Several sheets of paper lay before Edvar.
He had already filled nearly half the first.
Elisia held her pen above her own page, but wrote less.
She listened more.
At times, too closely.
The Emperor's chair remained empty.
Behind it hung a white banner bearing a golden dragon.
There was no separate seat for the King of Avalon.
The King of Avalon and the Emperor were the same man.
The doors opened.
The guards struck the butts of their spears against the stone.
"Imperar va Ael!"
Everyone rose.
Alucard Pendragon entered the hall.
Alone.
He wore no crown.
Nor did he wear a ceremonial mantle.
A black doublet, a little gold embroidery at the collar, a sword at his belt, and a heavy signet ring bearing the arms of the Empire on his right hand.
Nothing meant to make kings, an Archmage, a chancellor, and military commanders feel lesser in his presence.
And yet something changed.
Not at once.
With his first step, it was barely perceptible.
With the second, it became harder to ignore.
Conversation and the rustle of paper had already ceased, as protocol demanded, but the silence itself had changed.
It had grown heavier.
Alucard did not release his Aura.
Malik felt no pressure of energy.
Azar gave no sign that he sensed any exertion of power either.
No golden radiance.
No movement of energy.
Nothing that could be called a technique.
And yet, with every step the Emperor took, an odd urge arose to stand straighter.
To mind one's breathing.
Not to move without reason.
Even Haldor, who ordinarily cared little who sat before him, stopped absently touching the silver torc at his neck.
Volmar squared his shoulders.
Reno drew his hand away from the scroll.
Elisia realized she was gripping her pen too tightly and relaxed her fingers.
She did not understand why.
Perhaps there was no hidden power at work at all.
Perhaps everyone in the hall simply knew too well who was passing beside them.
A man who had witnessed the birth of the Empire.
A man who had outlived generations of those who now called themselves the ancient Houses.
A man to whom four kings had sworn allegiance, not because he was stronger than each of them alone, but because the entire system within which their authority existed had begun with him.
Yet even that explanation seemed insufficient.
Alucard walked the length of the table.
Unhurried.
He did not look at those seated around him.
He did not need to.
When the Emperor reached his chair and sat, the tension vanished.
Not gradually.
It simply became easier to breathe.
Haldor absently touched the silver torc again.
The Treasurer adjusted his ledger.
Someone exhaled softly.
Elisia looked at her brother.
Edvar noticed, but said nothing.
They had both felt the same thing.
And neither yet knew what it was.
Alucard placed his hands on the table.
"Sit."
The Council obeyed.
Sera Veridan opened the book of proceedings.
"Full session of the Imperial Council. The deliberate withholding of information capable of affecting a decision, and any knowing falsehood spoken in this hall, shall be treated as treason."
She looked around the table.
"Any objections?"
No one answered.
Sera turned to Severan.
"First Keeper."
Severan took the first black piece and placed it at the northernmost edge of the map.
"Three months ago, a Valskar scouting party disappeared. Seven men. No signs of battle were found."
The second piece appeared farther east.
"Twelve days later, an Eisenwald mounted patrol failed to return."
A third.
"Then the northern frontier outpost stopped responding."
A fourth.
"Two days later, the eastern outpost fell silent."
Volmar leaned over the map.
"The eastern post managed to send a signal."
"One fire," Severan replied. "Nothing after that."
"That is not enough to identify the cause."
"Agreed."
Volmar looked up.
"But you believe the events are connected."
Severan did not answer at once.
"I believe the sequence is too consistent to ignore."
Haldor set his palm on the table.
"My people have a simpler name for it."
"What?"
"The beginning of an offensive."
The head of the War Office looked toward the north of the map.
"We have not seen an army yet."
"The Horde does not form ranks on a parade ground before it begins a war."
"But a major invasion still requires soldiers, supplies, and command."
"The command already exists."
"On what basis do you claim that?"
Haldor pointed to the pieces.
"Six tribes."
He moved two closer together.
"These two were cutting each other apart as recently as last winter."
He moved another.
"These have fought over hunting grounds for twenty years."
Another.
"And these would never acknowledge an outsider as chief."
Volmar asked:
"A temporary alliance?"
"Possibly."
Haldor paused.
"I would prefer that explanation myself."
He looked at Severan.
"But your Shadow found the same thing my scouts did, didn't it?"
Severan placed the remaining pieces on the map.
"Tribes that had feuded for generations ceased fighting among themselves at almost the same time."
"Yes."
Reno asked:
"Were there negotiations?"
"None that we found."
"A common chief?"
"No confirmation."
"An exchange of hostages?"
"No."
"A division of spoils?"
"Not observed."
Reno frowned.
"Such alliances do not last."
"Exactly."
For a time, Severan studied the pieces arrayed before him.
"The disappearances alone would not have justified a full session."
Haldor looked up.
"The tribes did."
"Yes."
Severan moved several of the black pieces closer together.
"That was enough for the summonses to be sent."
Volmar frowned.
"And the rest?"
Severan looked at the metal casket before Malik.
"Most of it came later. While the kings were on the road, we received new findings."
He paused briefly.
"They were not the reason for the summons. They confirmed that the summons had been necessary."
Azar Maraven spoke for the first time:
"What connects them?"
Severan turned his gaze to him.
"Shamans."
For several seconds, no one spoke.
"Continue," Azar said.
"Similar signs were found at three sites of conflict. Hundreds of miles separate them. In addition, two Horde warbands changed direction at almost the same time, though they had no means of ordinary communication."
Azar looked at Malik.
"You examined the findings?"
"What could be brought to Avalon."
Malik opened the metal casket.
Inside lay three slabs of black stone.
He placed them on the table.
Jagged symbols had been carved into each.
Azar picked one up.
He studied it for a long time.
"Is the stone local?"
"Each slab is from a different source."
"The tool?"
"Different as well."
"One craftsman?"
"Unlikely."
Azar turned the slab over.
"But the structure repeats."
"Yes."
Orian asked:
"Writing?"
Malik shook his head.
"I cannot confirm that."
"Runes?"
"Not in any sense known to us."
"A spell?"
Malik looked at Azar.
The Archmage set the slab down again.
"There are traces of a working."
"What kind?" Volmar asked.
"The Veil."
Malik took out a thin silver needle and brought it close to the stone's surface.
A faint blue line appeared.
"The residual trace has almost faded."
Azar watched.
"But it was stronger."
"Considerably."
"Could these three structures have been connected?"
Malik hesitated.
"Theoretically."
Azar frowned.
"I dislike that word."
"So do I."
"But you have no other?"
"Not yet."
The Archmage examined the stones again.
"A stable link over such distances would require anchor points."
"For the methods known to us, yes."
"Then either the points exist and we have not found them…"
Malik finished the thought:
"Or the method is unknown to us."
Orian asked:
"Soul binding?"
"No traces," Malik answered.
"Necromancy?"
"No confirmation."
"Possession?"
This time, Malik did not answer immediately.
Azar said:
"I would not rule it out."
Reno ran a finger along the edge of his scroll.
"Too many unknowns."
"Yes," the Archmage said. "Which is precisely why I would not let that reassure me."
Malik produced a small vial of cloudy gray liquid.
"Soil from the site of the last encounter."
Haldor recognized the vessel.
"From Valskar."
"Yes."
Malik set it beside the slabs.
"The energy at the site has been damaged. But I could not confidently attribute it either to an ordinary disturbance of the Veil or to the natural imprint of death."
Azar looked at the vial.
"How many died?"
Orian answered before Malik could:
"Does that matter?"
"Very much."
Malik consulted a sheet of notes.
"Eleven humans. About thirty Horde warriors."
Azar slowly shook his head.
"Too few."
"I reached the same conclusion."
Orian frowned.
"Then the battle itself was not the source of the damage."
"Probably not."
"A ritual?"
"Possibly."
Reno exhaled softly.
"That word again."
Azar looked at him.
"If you want a neat and certain answer, I can invent one."
"No need."
"Then you will have to endure the word 'possibly.'"
Severan waited for Malik to put the vial away.
"There is one more thing."
Haldor looked at him.
"A prisoner?"
Severan nodded.
The King of Valskar absently touched the silver torc at his neck.
"One orc survived the encounter."
Edvar stopped writing.
Elisia looked up as well.
Haldor continued:
"Young. Badly wounded. At first, he behaved normally."
"What exactly do you mean by 'normally'?" Elisia asked.
Several faces turned toward her.
She immediately realized she had interrupted.
Alucard looked at his daughter.
"Answer her."
Haldor raised an eyebrow slightly.
"Normally for a captive orc? He struggled. Cursed. Tried to bite the healer once."
Elisia grimaced.
"Then he calmed down?"
"No."
Haldor leaned toward the map.
"Then one of the shamans began speaking from a hill."
Malik asked:
"Distance?"
"More than half a mile."
"Could the prisoner hear him?"
"No."
"You are certain?"
Haldor looked at him.
"My men examined the ground after the battle."
Malik nodded.
"Good. What happened?"
"The orc tried to stand."
"Why?"
"To go to the shaman."
"In that condition?"
"That is precisely why they remembered it."
Haldor was silent for a moment.
"They held him down. Then he began repeating the same phrase."
Something barely perceptible changed in Alucard's gaze.
"Did they remember it?"
"One of the warriors tried to write down the sounds."
Haldor took out a folded sheet of paper.
He passed it to Sera.
The Chancellor unfolded it.
She read it several times.
"This transcription may be highly inaccurate."
"I know."
"The warrior heard the phrase more than once?"
"Yes."
"Do the others agree on how it sounded?"
"In part. That is why we recorded only the sounds their memories agreed upon."
Malik regarded Haldor more closely.
"That is better."
Alucard held out his hand.
"Say it aloud."
Sera looked at him.
"What we were able to reconstruct?"
"Yes."
She read out several strange syllables.
Uncertainly.
Without trying to make the words flow.
No one in the hall understood their meaning.
But Alucard went still.
Not all of him.
Only his hand.
The fingers resting on the table stopped moving.
Edvar noticed.
Elisia noticed too.
Severan Morn might not have been watching the Emperor at all.
But he missed nothing either.
Haldor asked:
"Do you know it?"
Alucard looked at the page.
For an instant, he saw a very different hall.
Not this one.
Stone without heraldry.
Iron.
Collars.
People permitted to speak only when questioned.
He did not allow the memory to linger.
"It is the language of slaves."
The silence deepened.
Elisia frowned.
"Whose slaves?"
Sera turned slightly toward her.
So did Edvar.
But Alucard did not rebuke her.
He looked at his daughter for several seconds.
"The right question."
Elisia waited.
"And?"
"For now, it will remain unanswered."
She clearly wanted to ask again.
She did not.
Alucard turned to Severan.
"Continue searching for the source of the language. Treat it as a separate inquiry."
"Yes, Sire."
"Restrict the information."
"To what level?"
Alucard looked first at Azar, then at Malik.
"The Council. The Archmage. The Magister of the Tower of Avalon. Whichever of Severan's people he deems necessary."
Orian asked:
"The Church?"
Alucard paused.
"If there is any sign of work involving souls, bring the Church in at once."
The Pontiff did not look entirely satisfied.
But he nodded.
"Now, our response," Sera said.
The head of the War Office unrolled one of the maps.
"I oppose calling the general levy now."
Haldor frowned.
"Why?"
"Because we do not yet know the scale of the threat."
"That is precisely why we must prepare."
"Preparation and a general levy are not the same thing."
The Treasurer looked up from his ledger.
"Fortunately."
Haldor looked at him.
"Explain."
"If we pull a large number of people away from their farms now, expenditure will rise immediately. Revenue will begin to fall a little later. Then the harvest will suffer."
Reno added:
"Trade will react even sooner."
"Is Valua afraid of losing money?"
"Valua fears the same thing you do. It simply counts grain instead of spears."
Haldor started to answer.
Then stopped.
"Very well. How much time?"
The Treasurer shrugged.
"Without exact troop numbers, that is the wrong question."
"Then how many troops can we raise without serious harm?"
The head of the War Office answered:
"Enough to reinforce selected sectors. Not enough to cover all of them at once."
Azar touched his staff.
"What if that is precisely what they want us to do?"
Everyone looked at him.
"We assume the enemy intends to strike the North or the East."
Volmar asked:
"Do you have another theory?"
"No."
"Then?"
"The absence of another theory does not make the first one correct."
He indicated the slabs.
"If these are parts of a network, its objective may not be where its components were found."
"Where, then?"
"I do not know."
Reno gave a humorless smile.
"Very reassuring."
"I am not trying to reassure you."
Sera looked at the heirs.
Then at Alucard.
The Emperor noticed.
"Edvar."
The prince rose.
"Sire."
"You have been listening."
"Yes."
"What would you do?"
Edvar looked at the map.
He did not answer at once.
"I would not call the general levy."
Haldor frowned immediately.
Edvar noticed.
"But I would reinforce the North."
"Only the North?" Alucard asked.
The prince hesitated.
"No."
He looked toward the eastern border.
"If the enemy is testing our response, reinforcing one front too conspicuously will show them where we believe ourselves vulnerable."
"Where will you find the people?"
"Volunteers."
The head of the War Office asked:
"Trained volunteers?"
"Some of them."
"And the rest?"
Edvar thought.
"Train them."
"How much time will that take?"
"I do not know."
"Then your proposal is incomplete."
Edvar pressed his lips together.
Alucard did not intervene.
The prince studied the map again.
"Expand recruitment now, while we still have time. Not only into the army."
"What else?"
"Healers. Engineers. Logistics."
Reno gave the faintest nod.
"Better."
Edvar continued:
"And open the Academy examinations to more candidates."
Volmar looked at him.
"How many more?"
"All free subjects capable of meeting the requirements."
The hall fell silent for a moment.
"Regardless of birth?" Volmar clarified.
"Yes."
"You propose abolishing prior training?"
"No."
"Recommendations?"
Edvar hesitated.
"The requirement for a recommendation, yes."
Volmar leaned back.
"At present, a House, an officer, or a recognized school at least vouches that a candidate has not simply appeared from nowhere."
Haldor said:
"Sometimes that is precisely why he never appears at all."
Volmar looked at him.
"Because he is unprepared."
"Sometimes."
"And at other times?"
"Because his father cuts timber and knows no knights."
Alucard asked Edvar:
"Do the Academy's standards change?"
"No."
"Then who loses by widening access?"
Edvar considered the question.
Volmar answered for him:
"The Academy will have more work."
"Now that is a real argument," Alucard said.
Malik interjected:
"So will the Tower."
Everyone looked at him.
"If preliminary screening is expanded on this scale, we will have to use resonance spheres."
Azar asked:
"How many does Avalon have?"
"Around forty in working order."
"Too few."
"I know."
"The other Towers will provide some of theirs."
Malik looked at him.
"All of them?"
"Those with reserves."
"Some magisters will object."
"Let them write to me."
Malik's mouth curved almost imperceptibly.
"Then their objections will be shorter."
Sera made a note.
"The spheres show only affinity?" Sera asked.
"Yes," Malik answered. "Not the ability to wield the power."
"Red resonance?"
"To the northern masters," Haldor said. "Men and women. The Battle Sisters will accept those who qualify."
Reno said softly:
"The She-Wolves."
Haldor turned his head.
"Say that to them."
"I would still like to attend the next Council."
"Wise."
Sera continued:
"Golden?"
"To Avalon. Men only," Malik replied.
"Magical?"
"Into the Tower system."
Azar added:
"Osmantis retains its own selection procedures under the Great Treaty."
Alucard nodded.
"The Treaty remains unchanged."
The Treasurer was already making calculations.
"Waiving the Academy entrance fee will increase expenditure."
Edvar asked:
"By how much?"
"I do not know yet."
"Would a general levy cost more?"
"If we count only the first month, not necessarily."
Alucard looked at him.
"And if we count the consequences?"
The Treasurer closed the ledger.
"Then almost certainly."
"Almost?"
"I do not give exact figures without data, Sire."
Alucard nodded.
"Correct."
Elisia had remained silent throughout the discussion.
Now she raised her hand.
Alucard noticed.
"Speak."
"We are discussing how much a candidate will cost once accepted."
The Treasurer looked at her.
"Yes."
"But what will it cost the candidate's family when they leave?"
No one answered at once.
Elisia continued more carefully:
"If it is a peasant household and the eldest son leaves for training, the family loses a worker."
"Correct," the Treasurer said.
"Then the chance to enroll may be useless to the poor."
Edvar looked at his sister.
She noticed.
"What?"
"I had not thought of that."
"Neither had I, at first."
Sera asked:
"What do you propose?"
"A payment to the family of every accepted candidate."
The Treasurer responded at once:
"All of them?"
Elisia considered.
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because a noble House does not need it."
"Then it would be based on need?"
"Probably."
She frowned.
"No. 'Probably' is not good enough."
For the first time, the Treasurer smiled faintly.
"Better."
Elisia looked at her notes.
"For families that truly lose essential income because someone enters service or training."
"That will require verification."
"Let the commission verify it."
Edvar added:
"And the debts."
Elisia turned to him.
"What debts?"
"Tax arrears."
He looked at Sera.
"If a candidate leaves while his family still owes the state, the collector will come all the same."
Haldor gave a quiet grunt.
"And the boy will run home within a month."
Reno said:
"The debts cannot be forgiven."
"Not forgiven," Elisia replied. "Deferred."
The Treasurer was already writing.
"Only after official acceptance."
"Yes."
"For a limited period."
"Yes."
"And only after the household has been assessed."
Elisia nodded.
"Otherwise, people will exploit it."
Alucard looked first at his son, then at his daughter.
He said nothing.
But both understood that the matter was not finished for them.
After the session, they would probably have to explain each of their proposals in greater detail.
The discussion continued for a long time.
Certainly not for only two hours.
No one watched the time closely enough to say afterward exactly how long it had lasted.
They argued over how many people to call up.
Garrisons.
Roads.
Provisions.
Horses for the commissions.
How many mages could be reassigned temporarily between Towers.
What share of the expense should fall to the kingdoms, and what share to the central treasury.
Several proposals were rejected.
Some were sent away for calculation.
Others were altered at the table.
By dawn, the final decision was shorter than the arguments that had produced it.
Do not call the general levy for the present.
Reinforce the northern and eastern fronts with existing reserves.
Expand voluntary recruitment.
Open emergency admissions to the schools of healing, engineering, and logistics.
Establish commissions for preliminary screening.
For the duration of the emergency intake, suspend restrictions based on birth, mandatory patronage, and the entrance fee for admission to the Academy examinations.
Do not lower the Academy's standards.
Send candidates with red resonance to the northern masters for examination.
Send those with golden resonance for further Aura testing.
Send those with magical resonance into the Tower system.
Record unknown reactions separately and report them to Avalon.
Provide support for the families of accepted candidates where the candidate's departure genuinely deprives a household of essential income.
Do not forgive tax arrears automatically, but permit a temporary deferment after official acceptance into service or state-funded training.
Sera read through the list again.
"Any objections to the wording?"
There were.
For another quarter of an hour.
Only then did the Chancellor ask:
"The position of the crowns?"
Volmar answered first:
"Eisenwald supports the decision, provided the Academy's standards remain unchanged."
"Valua supports it," Reno said. "With mandatory control of expenditure."
Azar rested his palm on his staff.
"Osmantis supports it. I will send the orders to the Towers separately."
Haldor looked toward the north.
"Valskar supports it."
He raised his eyes to Alucard.
"For now."
"For now?" Sera asked.
"If we obtain proof of an invasion, I will demand the general levy again."
Alucard answered:
"Then the matter will be considered again."
Haldor did not look satisfied.
But he nodded.
Sera turned to the central offices.
"War Office?"
"We will carry it out once troop numbers are approved."
"Treasury?"
The Treasurer looked over his notes.
"Funding is possible. I will provide final limits after the calculations."
"Tower of Avalon?"
Malik said:
"We will prepare the commissions."
"Archmage?"
"The other Towers will receive their orders."
"Church?"
Orian inclined his head.
"The healing houses will assist with preliminary screening and training."
"Chancery?"
Severan looked at the black pieces.
"The investigation will continue."
Sera closed her draft notes.
"Then the decision is provisionally adopted. The decree and departmental orders will be prepared separately."
Sera Veridan checked her notes once more.
"Then we shall prepare the final text of the decree."
The scribes waiting in the adjoining chamber received the draft instructions. The War Office was to prepare orders for the garrisons and commissions. The Treasury was to establish procedures for payments and deferments. The Towers were to prepare rules for the use of resonance spheres and the candidates' subsequent assignments.
The imperial decree itself was far shorter.
By the time the first fair copy was returned to the Hall of the First Law, dawn was already breaking beyond the windows.
Sera placed the document before Alucard.
The Emperor read it from the first line to the last.
Slowly.
Then he returned to the middle of the text.
"Here."
Sera stepped closer.
"Sire?"
Alucard touched one line with his finger.
"The restrictions are lifted only for the duration of the emergency intake. That must be stated explicitly."
The Chancellor reread the wording.
"So the decree cannot later be interpreted as a permanent change to the law."
"Exactly."
Sera turned to one of the scribes.
"Correct it. Make a new fair copy."
The document was taken away.
No one objected or hurried the scribes.
Some time later, a new copy was placed before the Emperor.
Alucard read it again.
This time, he raised no objections.
He took up the pen.
Beneath the final line appeared the signature:
Alucard Pendragon.
Eternal Emperor.
King of Avalon.
Sera slid the dark red wax toward him.
Alucard removed the ring from his right hand.
The arms of the Empire were engraved upon its face.
The Chancellor applied wax to the foot of the document.
Alucard waited several moments, then pressed the ring into the still-soft wax.
For some reason, the silence in the hall suddenly seemed especially pronounced.
He raised his hand.
A crisp impression of the imperial arms remained in the dark red surface.
Alucard put the ring back on.
What lay before the Council was no longer a draft.
No longer a proposal.
Not even merely the decision of those who had spent hours arguing around the table.
A decree.
Alucard handed it to Sera.
"Dispatch it immediately."
"Yes, Sire."
The Chancellor turned to the scribes.
The palace came alive again.
Certified copies had to be prepared from the final decree. At the same time, the War Office, the Treasury, the Towers, and the Postal Chancery began work on their own orders.
A decision made in a single hall now had to pass through the entire Empire.
The first certified copies were to leave the palace that very morning.
The kings had no intention of remaining in Avalon longer than necessary.
Haldor wanted to return to Valskar as quickly as possible.
No one was surprised.
If the North truly stood on the brink of war, its king would be of more use among his own people than sitting in the capital.
Volmar remained for a conference with the War Office concerning the eastern fortresses.
Reno was to discuss supplies, trade routes, and the share of expenditure Valua could bear in a separate meeting with the Treasurer.
Azar remained in Avalon for the time being. He left the Hall of the First Law with Malik, bound for the Tower in the capital.
As they departed, Malik asked:
"You want to examine the slabs again?"
"Yes."
"We already examined them here."
"Here, we discussed them before the Council."
Malik looked at him.
"And now?"
Azar adjusted his glove.
"Now I want to understand what you missed."
"You are certain I missed something?"
"No."
The Archmage looked at him.
"That is why we will check."
Malik nodded.
"Now that sounds reasonable."
They left together.
When the kings returned to their lands, their legates would once again take their seats at ordinary sessions.
The arrangement existed for practical reasons, not ceremony.
The Empire was too large for four kings to live in Avalon permanently.
Haldor lingered at the doors.
Alucard, Edvar, Elisia, Severan, and Sera remained in the hall.
The King of Valskar looked at the Emperor.
"This is no ordinary alliance of tribes."
Alucard did not answer immediately.
"I do not believe it is either."
Haldor narrowed his eyes.
"You do not believe?"
"We do not yet have enough evidence for me to say I know."
Severan's eyes lifted almost imperceptibly.
Haldor studied Alucard for several seconds.
Then he nodded.
"Good."
He pointed to the page bearing the recorded phrase.
"But you know the language."
"Yes."
"And you will not tell us."
"Not yet."
"Why?"
Alucard looked at him.
"Because a memory and evidence are not the same thing."
Haldor gave a wry smile.
"I hate it when you answer like a chancellor."
Sera, standing nearby, said:
"I shall take that as a compliment."
For the first time that morning, Haldor laughed.
Very briefly.
Then he pressed his right fist to his heart.
"Ved blod og ed."
By blood and oath.
Alucard answered in Valskan:
"Ved blod og ed."
Haldor went still.
"Your pronunciation is good."
"I had time to learn."
"How much?"
Alucard looked at him.
Haldor raised a hand.
"Forget I asked."
He left.
Elisia waited until the doors had closed.
"Father."
Alucard turned to her.
"Yes?"
"When you entered…"
She stopped.
Edvar looked at his sister.
"You felt it too?"
"Yes."
Now they both looked at Alucard.
"Was that Aura?" Edvar asked.
"No."
The answer came at once.
Malik and Azar would have said the same.
There had been no release of energy.
Elisia frowned.
"Then what was it?"
Alucard was silent for a moment.
"You were standing before the Emperor."
Edvar was clearly dissatisfied.
"That is not an explanation."
"No."
"Do you do it deliberately?"
This time, Alucard truly considered the question.
"Sometimes."
Elisia raised an eyebrow.
"And today?"
Alucard looked around the empty hall.
At the chairs of the four kings.
At the black pieces near the northern border.
"I am not certain."
Elisia had plainly not expected that answer.
The Emperor picked up the page bearing the unknown phrase.
He folded it.
"Remember this."
He looked at both his children.
"If a person is always certain why something happens, they usually stop checking whether they are right."
Severan Morn said nothing.
But the faintest shift of his eyes made it clear that he, too, had committed those words to memory.
Beyond the palace walls, the first dispatch packets were already being prepared.
One of them was bound for the far north.
To places whose names most people in that hall had never even uttered.
Oksen was among them.