“As expected, the army packed up and went south the moment they heard. Most have family in Delgos. You can retake Ratibor at will. You won’t even need the army. A few hundred men will do. Breckton can turn his attention north to Melengar and begin plans for the spring invasion of Trent.”

“Excellent! Excellent!” Ethelred cheered. Saldur and the chancellor joined in his applause, granting each other smiles of relief and pleasure.

“What happens when the Ghazel finish with Delgos and decide to march north?” the Earl of Chadwick asked. Seated at the far end of the table, he did not appear to share his companions’ gaiety. “I’m told there’s quite a lot of them and hear they’re fearsome fighters. If they can destroy Delgos, what assurance do we have they won’t attack us?”

“I’m certain the Nationalists will halt their ambitions in the short term, milord,” Merrick replied. “But even if not, we face no threat from the Ba Ran Ghazel. They’re a superstitious lot and expect some sort of world-ending catastrophe to beset them shortly. They want Drumindor as a refuge, not as a base for launching attacks. This will buy the time you need to take Melengar, Trent, and possibly even western Calis. By then the New Empire will be supreme and the Nationalists a memory. The remaining residents of Delgos, those once-independent merchant barons, will beg for imperial intervention against the Ghazel and eagerly submit to your absolute rule. The empire of old will be reforged.”

The earl scowled and sat back down.

“You are indeed a marvel and deserving of your new title and station, Lord Marius.”

“Because you already have Gaunt and Esrahaddon is dead, I believe that finishes my employment obligations.”

“For now,” Ethelred told him. “I won’t let a man of your talents get away that easily. Now that I’ve found you, I want you in my court. I’ll make it worth your loyalty.”

“Actually, I already spoke with His Grace about the position of Magistrate of Colnora.”

“Magistrate, eh? Want your own city, do you? I like the idea. Think you can keep the Diamond under your thumb? I suppose you could—certainly, why not? Consider it done, Lord Magistrate, but I insist you do not take your post until after Wintertide. I want you here for the festivities.”

“Ethelred is getting married and crowned emperor,” Saldur explained. “The Patriarch will be coming to perform the ceremony himself, and if that’s not enough, we will be burning a famous witch.”

“I wouldn’t miss it.”

“Excellent!” Ethelred grinned. “I trust accommodations in the city are to your liking? If not, tell the chamberlain and he’ll find a more suitable estate.”

“The house is perfect. You are too kind, my lord.”

“I still don’t see why you don’t simply stay in the palace.”