First Lord's Fury (Page 169)

"We’ll start breaking them into fire teams, then," Tavi said "We’ll be able to handle twice as much croach-clearing in the Vale with the extra hands, as long as the vord don’t get any more uppity than they already have."

Ehren nodded. "Without the Queen to drive them, they aren’t much more than animals. They’ll break at strong resistance, like they did at Garrison."

Tavi grunted. "You haven’t talked about that much."

Ehren looked away and was still for a moment. Then he said, "I was there when Lord Cereus died. It was the most courageous, saddest thing I’ve ever seen. He deserved a better death."

"If he hadn’t done it, that vordbulk would have crushed half of Garrison’s walls. The vord had numbers enough that, even undirected, they would have killed everyone – his family included."

"That makes his death worthwhile. But not good. He deserved better." Ehren shook himself and went to the next page. "Ahem. The Academy Novus is officially under construction now. Magnus reports that he’s building the lecture halls with enough windows and vents to keep them from baking all the students to sleep in the spring and summer, and setting up boundaries around the ruins to protect them from progress.

"And, in related news…" Ehren turned another page. "… Senator Valerius has lodged an official protest regarding the new College of Romanic Studies and the admittance of freemen without patronage. He has fourteen distinct arguments, but what it all amounts to is ‘we’ve never done it that way before.’ "

"Senator Valerius’s protest will in no way disturb my digestion," Tavi said.

"Or mine. But Valerius has become a focal point for everyone who objects to your policies."

Tavi shrugged. "They don’t want to admit to themselves that the war has changed things. If we don’t look to the future, we’ll never be able to manage it. Someone’s always upset about something."

Ehren thumbed through the next several pages. "The good Senator opposes… the Slavery Ban… the recognition of the Canim State… the recognition of the Marat State… the recognition of the Iceman State… giving the Shieldwall to the Icemen… the enfranchisement of freemen, and, last but not least, relocating the capital to Appia."

"He has a point on that last one," Tavi said, somewhat wistfully. "There’s a perfectly good volcano going to waste at old Alera Imperia. We could throw all the idiots in and be rid of them."

"I’m not sure if the entire Senate would fit inside, sire. In other news, the repair of the causeways is progressing reasonably well. We should have most of the old ones finished by next autumn, but…"

"But they all led to Alera Imperia, before," Tavi said. "What about the plans for the new routes?"

"Lord Riva thinks that a ring-shaped causeway circling about forty miles out from the old capital could be completed in three to five years – the hub of a wagon wheel, as it were."

Tavi nodded. "It will take us that long to clear all the croach around there in any case. What did he say about a more efficient map of new causeway routes?"

"Twenty-five years, minimum," Ehren said. "You don’t want to know the cost estimate."

Tavi grunted. "Well. Nothing’s ever easy, is it? Ask him to draft a more complete proposal, and we’ll see if we can’t start the groundwork while we’re laying out this new hub."

"Very well, sire," Ehren said. "I’d like to suggest that the next time you watercraft to the Realm, you mention the need for those Citizens still in croach-covered territory to continue killing spiders whenever possible. In fact, I’d suggest that you place a bounty on them."

Tavi frowned. "Interesting. Why?"

"The spiders are responsible for the rapid spread of the croach, sire. The croach seems to generate enough spiders to support it, spontaneously, and the more of them we kill, the harder the croach has to work to replace them, and the slower it grows. The spiders are relatively weak, and should prove a capable testing ground for our younger Citizens – and for our Romanic scholars to test whatever new devices they create."

"You’ve been reading Varg’s books again," Tavi commented.

Ehren shrugged and smiled faintly.

"What’s happened to us, Ehren?" Tavi asked, bemused. "Last year we were marching with Legions and saving the Realm. Now we’re negotiating treaties, planning roads, and implementing policies. What we’re doing now isn’t really fighting a war. We’re just pioneering our way back to places we’ve already been."

Ehren rose and neatened the sheaf of papers in his hand by rapping them gently on the desk. "We’ve passed through the interesting parts of history, sire. May we never see them again. I’m completely in favor of a nice, long, boring stretch."

"Seconded," Tavi said fervently.

Ehren inclined his head. "Oh. Congratulations, by the way."

"Thank you," Tavi said, smiling. "You’ll join us for dinner sometime soon, I hope."

"Of course, Tavi. My best to Kitai." Ehren departed as quietly and efficiently as he’d entered, and Tavi stretched out in his chair for a moment with his eyes closed. Outside, sleet mixed with early snow clicked and whispered against the windows, though it was only midautumn. This winter looked like it would be a bad one. He’d been spending most of his focus – and money – on making sure the Realm was ready to face a long, cold season.

Actually, it had come more easily than he’d expected. It was much like managing a Legion, save that in the Legion there was an absence of dissension. (Though upon thinking about it, Tavi decided that one little fact made for quite an astounding difference.) Still, the basic principles applied – recruit reliable subordinates and delegate authority in accordance with their talents. Help them when they needed it and stay out of their way when they didn’t. Make absolutely clear what you expect from the people working for you and make sure rewards or discipline were consistent and fair.

So far, he thought, things could have been worse.

There was a knock at his chamber door, which opened a breath later. "Sire?" asked his valet’s quiet voice. "Are you ready?"

"As I can be, I suppose." Tavi rose and checked his appearance in the mirror. His hair was short and newly trimmed, his beard likewise. The cloth-of-gold tunic was heavy, and all the gems didn’t make it feel any lighter. Still, it didn’t weigh as much as armor.

Fidelias, still wearing Valiar Marcus’s face, entered the chamber and shut the door behind him.

"Sire," he said. "The guests have all arrived. No one has attempted to gut anyone. Today."