The congruent emperor, p.1
The Congruent Emperor, page 1
part #4 of Congruent Mage Series
Table of Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1: A Scouting Expedition
Chapter 2: Plans and Consequences
Chapter 3: Depths of Foolishness
Chapter 4: King Lessons
Chapter 5: Not Far from Riyas
Chapter 6: The Narrow Passage
Chapter 7: Melyncárreg
Chapter 8: Reporting In
Chapter 9: What Lies Below
Chapter 10: Meet the Neighbors
Chapter 11: Merry's Return
Chapter 12: Take a Message
Chapter 13: Rings and Arrows
Chapter 14: Rings and Recipes
Chapter 15: Night Flight
Chapter 16: Ad Hoc Gates
Chapter 17: Nocturnal Conversations
Chapter 18: Landfall
Chapter 19: Rúth and Doethan
Chapter 20: A Long-Delayed Wedding
Chapter 21: Breakfast Conversations
Chapter 22: The Quest for Dragonsbane
Chapter 23: Imperial Ultimatum
Chapter 24: The Cave of Jewels
Chapter 25: The Streets of Nova Eboracum
Chapter 26: Return to Sender
Chapter 27: Raven and Dragon
Chapter 28: Dragons' Tower
Chapter 29: Practice in the Park
Chapter 30: A Raven at the Door
Chapter 31: Aboard the Seahawk
Chapter 32: Big Plans
Chapter 33: Rescue Strategy
Chapter 34: Dust in the Wind
Chapter 35: Second Fleet
Chapter 36: Faster and Stronger
Chapter 37: Rescue Tactics
Chapter 38: Zûrafiérix
Chapter 39: Evacuation Challenges
Chapter 40: Taverna
Chapter 41: Gate Hopping
Chapter 42: Tyford Surprise
Chapter 43: At the Institute
Chapter 44: Merry and Braith
Chapter 45: The Rescue Begins
Chapter 46: The Rescue Proceeds
Chapter 47: Doethan and Merrillōn
Chapter 48: Eynon Returns
Chapter 49: Up the Moravon
Chapter 50: Eynon and Merry
Chapter 51: The Great Escape
Chapter 52: An Efficient Evacuation
Chapter 53: Aboard the Cloud Dancer
Chapter 54: Sírénae’s Cabin
Chapter 55: Down the Moravon
Chapter 56: Laetícia’s Study
Chapter 57: Puzzled Waters
Chapter 58: Golden Gate
Chapter 59: The Fog of War
Chapter 60: Parting Words
Chapter 61: Conquest Unsatisfactory
Appendix: The Empires of the Roma
For more information
Map of Orluin
Map of Roma’s Imperium
Other Books by Dave Schroeder
Dedication
Copyright
About the Author
Prologue
Eynon was a thousand feet above the Tempest Isles’ great harbor, spinning so fast he felt like an empty cask caught in a whirlpool. His protective sphere of solidified sound was buffeted by driving rain and near hurricane-force winds, knocking him about and slamming him into the interior of his sphere so hard he couldn’t summon the focus he needed to gate out. In the space of a heartbeat, the surface of his sphere turned red-orange and the temperature of the air inside it rose to nearly unbearable levels as he was blasted by well-coordinated jets of flame from seven obsidian-colored dragons.
Eynon involuntarily inhaled and sensed the hot air scald his lungs. He coughed and felt himself close to passing out. He tried to center his mind and find inner calm amidst the shrieking gale and gouts of dragonfire but failed when the fearsome snout of one of the black dragons crashed into his sphere at an angle, increasing its rotation and sending Eynon off on a completely new vector.
At least they’ve stopped breathing fire, thought Eynon. Just my bad luck a Roma dragon flew through my cloud illusion and revealed my presence. So much for trying to ‘see’ with my bat ears. I didn’t even hear it coming.
A pair of dragons chose that moment to speed toward Eynon’s sphere from opposite directions. They struck his protective bubble seconds apart, tossing him against one side of his sphere then the other in quick succession. He tumbled inside the sphere like a stone in a fast-cranked lapidary’s polishing machine.
The twin collisions in close succession unexpectedly helped Eynon by stopping his sphere from spinning. He risked a deep breath of the air inside the sphere—it was slightly cooler now as the wind and rain worked in his favor instead of against him. Eynon tried to follow the steps for forming ad hoc gates Verro had taught him. First, fully visualize your destination.
He closed his eyes and took another breath, remembering the details of Laetícia’s study in Nova Eboracum, the last place he’d been before embarking on what should have been a simple scouting expedition. Eynon had gotten as far as capturing the details of Laetícia’s writing desk when every hair on his body stood out straight and his skin tingled like it was covered by ten thousand angry bees.
Bright lights flashed on his retinas through his closed eyelids and his ears were assaulted by booms of thunder louder than the great green dragon Viridáxés’ roar. Opening his eyes, he caught the outlines of four purple-robed figures on flying disks circling his sphere. Roma wizards, Eynon realized. Sírénae Accipiter’s wizards.
Tendrils of tight light encircled Eynon’s refuge and sent it spinning again, costing him any chance of escaping through an ad hoc gate. He no longer hovered inside his sphere but lay slumped at its base, barely conscious. His body was tossed from side to side as the sphere turned, but Eynon was too dazed to do more than moan when he slid back to the bottom.
Massive fists of solidified sound from the Roma mages struck the top of his sphere like hammer blows from a blacksmith the size of a mountain. Eynon’s body flew upward as if hurled by a catapult. His head struck the interior of his shield and the sphere winked out. No longer conscious, Eynon fell through the tempest toward the storm-tossed sea.
Chapter 1
A Scouting Expedition
Most of the senior dignitaries from the party celebrating the newly-signed Treaty of Friendship had shifted from the party’s walled garden to Laetícia’s study. That location, high in Laetícia’s tower, provided more privacy for their continued discussion.
Eynon had been surprised to discover the walled garden was inside the grounds of the governor-general’s palace. It was only a short walk to Laetícia’s tower, and there were enough wizards to lift everyone who wasn’t a wizard, so none of them had to climb the stairs.
Servants or slaves who had climbed all seven hundred steps delivered pitchers of wine and cider, plus beer made from sorghum and from barley malt. Eynon even saw a few large jugs of mead for the Bifurlanders. The servants placed several trays of sweet honey cakes and a few with dough rings covered in seeds on tables around the study. Eynon noticed Doethan smile when he saw the dough rings and tubs of soft white cheese appear. Chee was more intrigued by the small baskets of grapes and figs arrayed between the larger trays.
The study was crowded with kings, queens, nobles, and senior wizards, but there was room for everyone to sit. Extra seating had been provided to supplement the chairs and dining couches already present. After everyone collected a mug or goblet and a small plate of something to nibble on, the servants withdrew.
“How long do you think we have before they get here?” asked Nûd.
“I have no idea,” said Háiddon. “I’m not a sailor.”
“It will depend on the number of wizards they have who are capable of summoning wind,” said Laetícia. “I can’t see them having enough to support the entire fleet, so they’ll travel only as fast as the natural winds will drive them.”
“Yes, but how long is that?” asked Nûd.
“Two weeks, if we’re lucky,” said Laetícia.
“We could take on a thousand ships and hold our own with our five hundred,” said King Bjarni of Bifurland. “Our longships against two thousand Ocean-going Roma ships is another matter.”
“Tamloch’s three hundred and fifty larger vessels will help,” said Dârio.
“What about Dâron’s fleet?” asked Eynon.
Duke Háiddon laughed. So did Dârio and Jenet. Fercha shook her head in disgust.
“You can ask Princess Gwýnnett about Dâron’s fleet,” said Duke Háiddon.
“Word about it probably didn’t reach the Coombe,” added Merry, “but Gwýnnett sold most of Dâron’s fleet off to the major merchant families two years ago, when Queen Carys was in mourning and before Dârio could stop her. Most of Dâron’s warships have been rebuilt to carry cargo now.”
“That seems shortsighted,” said Eynon. On Eynon’s shoulder, Chee covered his big eyes with his front paws to illustrate Eynon’s observation.
“Tell me about it,” said Dârio. He saw that Fercha was about to launch into a tirade against Gwýnnett’s actions but pushed his palms down to signal her that rehashing the past would be counterproductive.
“As Grand Admiral of Tamloch’s fleet, I was certainly pleased by Gwýnnett’s greed,” said Sónnel.
“Deposed emperor,” said Quintillius.
Laetícia rolled her eyes at her husband. With the Siren Hawk’s fleet on the way, it was a distinction without a difference.
“I told you I’d be glad to scout things out with Laetícia and report,” said Eynon.
“I’m still not convinced that’s a good idea,” said Laetícia.
“I’ll keep us hidden,” said Eynon. “Don’t worry.”
“I’m not going to do anything but worry,” said Merry. “Please take good care of him, Laetícia.”
“I can take care of…” began Eynon.
“I will,” Laetícia answered. “It has to be done. We need a full and accurate assessment of Sírénae’s forces and I’m the best-equipped wizard we have to do that.”
“Duke Néillen’s a trained military commander,” said Dârio. “Why can’t he do it?”
“He doesn’t share Laetícia’s in-depth knowledge of Roma military organization,” said Quintillius. “Her uncle Valens is the Tetrarch for the Southern Empire.”
“I thought her parents herded goats,” said Eynon.
“They do,” said Laetícia. “Thousands of them. My extended family has one of the largest herds on the upper Nile—but my uncle Valens left as soon as he came of age. He always wanted a military career.”
“Oh,” said Eynon. He looked at Laetícia thoughtfully.
Merry smiled, despite her tension. Eynon was finally learning the wider world was more complicated than the Coombe.
“Why didn’t your uncle warn us about the invasion?” asked Jenet.
“I’ve been asking myself the same question,” said Laetícia.
“We haven’t heard anything from anywhere in the Imperium for several days,” said Quintillius.
“The Imperium?” asked Eynon.
“All four empires,” Quintillius replied.
“The silence from across the Ocean is puzzling,” said Laetícia, “I’ll find out why soon, but for now Eynon and I had best be going.” She nodded at Eynon. “Duke Néillen also has to be notified. I’ll let him know we’re coming.”
“You will bring Néillen back, won’t you?” asked Verro. “We don’t want Sírénae’s forces capturing him. He knows too much.”
“That makes sense,” said Laetícia. “And he did warn us about the invasion fleet. We owe him something for that.”
“But he doesn’t trust you,” said Verro. “I’ll join you when you contact Néillen to reassure him.”
“People used to treachery…” began Dârio.
“…expect it from others,” finished Nûd.
Laetícia nodded and left her study through the door to her library, followed by Verro. Fercha moved to talk quietly with Inthíra and distract her from Doethan and Rúth.
“I’m going to have a private conversation with Eynon,” Merry announced. “I need to properly convince him not to take unnecessary risks.”
Eynon thought about replying but saw the serious look on Merry’s face. So did Chee. The little raconette jumped down from Eynon’s shoulder and scampered over to situate himself on Princess Rúth’s lap. Eynon waved to his familiar and allowed Merry to lead him up a spiral staircase to the roof. He didn’t see the others smiling but was fairly sure they were. He pretended not to hear Jenet’s comment as they departed.
“Properly?” she said, in a tone that suggested Merry’s intentions were anything but proper.
* * * * *
“A little wind and rain won’t deter me from my destiny,” said Emperor Sírénae Accipiter, the Siren Hawk, from the deck of the Seahawk, the flagship of her vast fleet. She was almost yelling to be heard over the roaring gale and the percussive beat of the driving rain pounding on the hemisphere of solidified sound above her.
“Of course not, Your Imperial Majesty,” said Magister Callidius, her most senior mage and the wizard casting the hemisphere. “A lot of wind and rain are a different story, however. You’re too wise to risk the fleet and your soldiers by trying to sail west through this mess.” He waved his hands at the storm raging around them.
The third person inside the protective dome spoke. “It’s lucky for us that we could shelter in such a good harbor when the tempest struck,” said Machaera, Sírénae’s top military commander. She was young with a muscular physique and was sly enough—and skilled enough—to out-wrestle her own centurions in competitions.
“Luck had nothing to do with it,” said gray-haired Admiral Pixo. “Storms are always a possibility when crossing the Ocean. I made sure our course took us near the Tempest Isles for just this eventuality.”
“Now that we’ve finished congratulating ourselves,” said Sírénae, “we face the bigger challenge of conquering Orluin once the storm passes.”
“Will you want the entire fleet to sail to Nova Eboracum harbor?” asked the admiral.
Before the emperor could reply, Magister Callidus tapped his ear then interrupted. “One of our warders reports a visitor,” said the mage. “A wizard scouting high above.”
“You mean a spy,” said Machaera. “From Queen Carys, Túathal, or Laetícia.”
“It could be someone from Bifurland,” said Admiral Pixo.
“Doubtful,” said Sírénae. “I’d bet an aureus it’s Laetícia.”
Pixo grunted. He respected the Bifurlanders’ sailing skills and sometimes allowed that to influence his perception of their capabilities in other areas.
“We’ll have a conversation about the disposition of the fleet later,” said the Emperor. She turned to Callidus. “For now, deal with our visitor and see that she’s captured and brought here for interrogation.”
“As you direct,” Callidus replied. He stabilized the hemisphere keeping off the elements, walked through its wall, stepped on his flying disk, and sped upward. His personal protective sphere sparkled and shed raindrops.
“Your Imperial Majesty,” said Machaera, nodding to Sírénae, “we still need to discuss stores. We only have enough food for…”
“I told you not to worry about that,” said the emperor. “Our forces won’t starve.”
Machaera and Pixo exchanged a glance. They knew what Sírénae was implying. Hungry enemies couldn’t put up much of a fight.
* * * * *
Eynon followed Laetícia through the ad hoc gate she’d made. It felt odd to step through a vertical gate rather than fly down through a horizontal one as Verro had taught him. Still, he appreciated that it wouldn’t be wise to simply gate into the sky above the Tempest Isles’ great harbor—and the high winds made that unwise in any case. He wasn’t quite fast enough at putting up a protective shield of solidified sound and found his robes drenched by driving rain. Eynon smiled when he used Doethan’s clothes-drying spell to remedy his soaked condition. He and Merry had both learned that spell at Doethan’s tower on the Rhuthro on the day Eynon had first met Rowsch, Doethan’s canine familiar. Eynon had teased Merry and shocked Doethan by using his solidified sound illusion magic to make it seem like the big dog had three heads, like the fierce beast in the old Athican stories.
Laetícia’s gate had emerged outside a limestone cave where Duke Néillen was said to be less-than-patiently waiting. She’d told Eynon the cave was on top of a hill overlooking the harbor, but Eynon couldn’t verify that with his own senses directly. The rain was so intense he could barely see Laetícia inside her own protective bubble five feet ahead of him.
Visibility wasn’t improved by the debris being blown by the wind, either. Eynon thought he recognized palm tree fronds like big fern leaves spinning by, based on illustrations in Robin Goodfellow’s Peregrinations. One was plastered to the outside of his shields for a few seconds before the gale carried it away. He could feel the rushing air try to lift him and his bubble off the ground and was pleased to enter the cave behind Laetícia and escape the inimical elements.
“I’m glad you came,” said Duke Néillen when they reached him thirty feet inside the narrow opening in the limestone. Tamloch’s former earl marshal was shivering and his pants and tunic were dripping. Water formed a dozen small puddles on the cave’s floor around his feet.
