EPILOGUE
History will eventually claim that the appearance of the vord was a water-shed moment, that it was the best thing that ever happened to Alera. The vord forced us to exceed our limits, to grow after centuries of stagnation - and to look beyond ourselves. It is certain that because of the vord, we have gained a host of new enemies, in the Canim sense of the word. May we keep them and meet many more.
But history is a cold and distant observer. Those of us who must face today have goals far more finite: We must mend our wounds, mourn our dead - and survive the winter. Crows take what the historians think.
History will attend to itself.
- GAIUS TAVARUS MAGNUS, 1 AV.
"It's too tight," Tavi complained, tugging at the neck of the tunic. "And it's ridiculously overdone. Honestly, people are starving, and they're trying to deck me out in gems and cloth of gold?"
"No one is starving," Max said. "They just wish they were." He wore his new suit of armor, marked with the black crow of the First Aleran Legion upon a field of red and blue, and his dress uniform beneath it, including a captain's cloak of red velvet. "Bloody clever way to get rid of the croach if you ask me. Let people eat it up, especially as we're short on food and all."
"A bit too clever. I'm sick of the stuff."
Max snorted, slapped Tavi's hands out of the way, and started fastening the collar. "Stop eating it, then."
"I can't tell half the people in the Realm they've got to eat bug wax until next spring and not eat it myself, Max."
"Sure you can. You're the First Lord." Max arched an eyebrow. "You must not hate it all that much. This tunic fit you at your confirmation, you know."
Tavi grunted in discomfort. "It might taste terrible, but it's apparently good for you. Plus I'm not wearing armor around every day, now."
"And it shows," Max said cheerfully. He got the collar fastened with one last, hard tug, then eyed Tavi carefully. "Why is your face turning red?"
Tavi idly slid an effort of will into the cloth of gold, metalcrafting its strands to stretch out a bit. Once the collar had loosened, he was able to exhale without making an effort. "There. How's that?"
"Oh, ah," Max said, looking him over judiciously. "You look like... a First Lord."
"How descriptive. Thank you."
"Anytime, Calderon," Max said, grinning.
"Max," Tavi said. "Have... have you heard from Crassus?"
Max's grin faded. "He's... not coming. Officially, he's helping his father and mother get the situation in Antillus under control. But he's still upset about... well. Everything."
Tavi nodded, frowning. "I'm glad Antillus took Dorotea back."
Max grunted sourly. Then said, "She's gotten almost human over the past couple of years. I suppose she might do some good up there."
"Certainly, Crassus is in good hands, as far as healing is concerned. I... I wish I knew what to do to make it right."
"Stop thinking you can fix everything," Max said bluntly. "Give it time. That might help. Or not. But you'll only make things worse if you push."
Tavi nodded. "Thanks."
"Always happy to explain the obvious to you, Calderon. Now if you'll excuse me? Nothing makes a girl want to be seduced more than a wedding. I've got plans. I'll see you at the ceremony."
"Veradis is here, isn't she?" Tavi asked. "Do you honestly think she's going to change her mind about you because of the social environment?"
Max grinned. "No telling until I try, is there?" He paused by the door, and said, more seriously, "I've been looking in on her, since her father died. Making sure no one's been giving her a hard time, or anything. I might have spoken a few words into the ears of some of Cereus's clients who were not, shall we say, appreciative of the sacrifice he made."
Tavi smiled at his friend and inclined his head to him, not saying anything. Back in the Academy, he'd listened to Max describe beating the owners of crooked gambling houses in the same terms.
"You look fine, Calderon," Max said.
"Thanks."
Max saluted, giving the gesture more formal precision and grace than he usually did. He winked and departed.
No sooner had he left than there was a knock at the side door to the chamber, which was the largest suite of the largest private home in Riva. Its previous owner had died in the battle to cover the retreat from the city. Tavi had felt somewhat ghoulish moving into the house, but he'd needed the room. There was an absolutely astounding need for staff and support for the First Lord, and all of that help needed somewhere to work and sleep. The Rivan-style tower proved more than roomy enough, though Tavi felt somewhat conflicted about residing on the top floor. With his windcrafting, stairs weren't really an issue - which he was sure was part of the point of Rivan Citizens residing in towers. There was a real temptation to feel somewhat smug about that.
"Enter," Tavi said.
The door opened, and Ehren came in, looking much as he always did - neatly and plainly dressed, smudged with ink stains, and carrying a quill and a stack of paper. Even then, though there hadn't been a vord sighted within a day's march of Riva in months, Tavi could sense that Ehren still carried half a dozen knives on his person, out of sight.
"Good morning, sire," Ehren said. He plopped the stack of papers down on Tavi's desk. "I've brought the daily reports."
"I'm getting married in an hour," Tavi said. He crossed the room to sit down behind his desk and gestured for Ehren to sit in the chair across from him. "Summarize anything new?"
"You're going to love this," Ehren said, settling down comfortably. "We've got no less than three steadholts who have objected, violently, to our Knights attacking 'their' vord."
Tavi's eyebrows went up. "Excuse me?"
"They're communities that surrendered when the Queen gave them the option. Apparently, the croach just grew up around the perimeter of their fields and moved on. It's guarded by a crew of warriors and tended by spiders, apparently operating under orders to protect the holders as well as guarding them - and they've kept doing it, up to and including defending them from the rogue vord who scattered when the Queen died." Ehren shook his head. "The holders have painted their vord in various colors, so they can tell the difference."
Tavi frowned. "They want to keep them?"
"So it would seem. They're all deep inside occupied territory, but the holders declined an offer of transport out."
Tavi mused over the situation. "If the vord were given instructions, they would follow them to the exclusion of all others unless the Queen changed them."
Ehren blinked. "You want to let them stay?"
"No. But I can't blame them. The Realm didn't protect those people's homes and lives. The vord did. If they want to stay where they are, fine. This is a problem we'll deal with when we've killed enough of the croach to reach them. File them under secondary priorities."
"Very good," Ehren said. "The siege at Rhodes has been officially broken now, sire. The Legion Aeris and her Citizens arrived two days ago and made short work of it."
"Excellent," Tavi said. Rhodes had been the last city to be held prisoner within her own walls by large numbers of vord. Once sent running into the countryside, the vord tended to disperse as naturally as any predator. They were ill suited for life in the wild, though. After six months, most of the feral vord had starved to death. Some of them, though, seemed to have learned to survive on their own. Tavi imagined that they would continue to be a threat to travelers in the wild places for a good long while, despite the Legions' success at finding and destroying the underground warrior gardens, where new vord ripened and were born.
"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."
Tavi glanced over at him and showed his teeth. "Well. We didn't expect forging the Alliance to be simple."
"Naturally not," Fidelias said, setting down a tray that doubtless had a collection of light snacks on it. Tavi had been insisting on avoiding it for weeks, and it had become a kind of game for the sentenced man to provide Tavi with appetizing temptations. Tavi ignored them. Almost always. "What has most of the Citizens upset is how you handled the land grant for the Canim."
Tavi shrugged. "They're welcome to Parcia if they can take it for themselves. It's the city deepest in vord-held territory. It's our premier seaport, and the Canim have forgotten more about shipbuilding than our own shipwrights know." He shrugged. "Besides, if we didn't give them someplace to call their own, they'd take it anyway - and they wouldn't be inclined to be terribly friendly afterward. They'll be taking Free Alera with them, I'm certain - and any holders there who don't want to operate under Canim rule are free to seek another steadholt under a different lord."
"High Lord Varg." Fidelias sighed. "You know why they're truly upset about it, don't you?"
"Because someone without furycraft has been made a High Lord," Tavi replied. "My heart bleeds for the poor lambs." He took the cover off the tray and found it stacked with small meat pastries. They smelled heavenly. He gave Fidelias a murderous look. "Mark my words. The day is coming when anyone who wishes Citizenship will be able to work for it and get it. When brains will get you further than any fury ever could. And when we overempowered engines of destruction will be a quaint reminder of the past, not masters of the future." He put the lid back down with a sharp clang. "Someone should write that down. They can quote me later, the way they do all the other First Lords."
"I believe they'll save that for your words upon being dragged away to be locked in a tower as a raving madman," Fidelias replied.
Tavi burst out into a quick belly laugh. "No, I'm not quite mad yet. How are the plans for the new program coming along?"
"Covert plans for the covert training of covert operatives? If I told you, I'd have to kill you, sire."
Tavi grinned at him. "I'll take that to mean 'well enough.' "
Fidelias nodded. "Sha has been most helpful. I enjoy working with him. Though his ideas of teaching methods are rather different than mine." He cleared his throat, and asked, "Sire? Do you really intend to wait before taking the battle to the vord in Canea? Senator Valerius - "
Tavi threw up his hands. "Augh. I am sick of hearing that man's name. He wants me to lead an expedition to Canea to find the last queen, does he?"
"Exactly."
"Thus getting rid of me, which should make his campaign to frustrate everything I'm trying to build somewhat simpler." Tavi shook his head. "If we have taken all of Alera back in ten years, we'll be doing well. And that's vital. We absolutely cannot leave the vord supply caches lying all over the place. And I don't like our chances in Canea anytime in the next thirty years or so. It's huge over there. We don't have enough bodies to get the job done."
"But you do acknowledge that it must happen."
"Probably," Tavi said. "Eventually. But for now... the vord in Canea are just too bloody useful."