“You have some interesting ideas, Your Grace,” Merrick told Saldur, his voice calm and casual, as if he had not heard a word. “I like your views on a central government. The benefits of standardizations in trade, laws, farming, even the widths of roads are excellent. It shows clarity of thought that I would not expect from an elderly church bishop.”

“How do you know anything of my—”

Merrick raised his hand to halt the regent. “I should explain right away that how I obtain information is confidential and not open for discussion. The fact is, I know it. What’s more—I like it. I can see the potential in this New Empire you’re struggling to erect. It may well be exactly what the world needs to get beyond the petty warfare that weakens our nations and mires the common man in hopeless poverty. At present, however, this is still a dream. That is where I come in. I only wish you came to me earlier. I could have saved you that embarrassing and now burdensome problem of Her Eminence.”

“That was the result of an unfortunate error on the part of my predecessor, the archbishop. Something he paid for with his life. I was the one who salvaged the situation.”

“Yes, I know. Some idiot named Rufus was supposed to slay the mythical beast and thereby prove he was the fabled Heir of Novron, the descendant of the god Maribor himself. Only instead, Rufus was devoured and the beast laid waste to everything in the vicinity. Everything except a young girl, who somehow managed to slay it, and in front of a church deacon, no less—oops. But you’re right. That wasn’t your fault. You were the smart one with the brilliant idea to use her as a puppet—a girl so bereft from losing everything and everyone that she went mad. Your solution is to hide her in the depths of the palace and hope no one notices. In the meantime, you and Ethelred run a military campaign to take over all of Avryn, sending your best troops north to invade Melengar just as the Nationalists invade from the south. Brilliant. I must say, with things so well in hand it’s a wonder I was contacted at all.”

“I’m not amused,” Saldur told him.

“Nor should you be, for at this moment King Alric of Melengar is setting into motion plans to form an alliance with the Nationalists, trapping you in a two-front war, and bringing Trent into the conflict on their side.”

“You know this?”

“It is what I would do. And with the wealth of Delgos and the might of Trent, your fledgling empire, with its insane empress, will crumble as quickly as it rose.”

“More impressed now?” Guy asked.

“And what would you have us do to stave off this impending cataclysm?”

Merrick smiled. “Pay me.”