“I learned to bake bread really well.” She too received many surprised looks, not the least of which came from Modina, Amilia, and Lena. “No, seriously, I’ve gotten good. Arbor says I’m ready to marble rye and wheat together.”
Nimbus glanced at Modina, who nodded.
The empress leaned forward. “I would like to ask you both something. The lord chancellor and I have been corresponding on this matter and I think he is right. There is so much that needs to be done. There will be warlords, more uprisings like the riots this spring. With the elves back across the river, goblins have begun raiding again. And of course something must be done about Tur Del Fur.”
“I’ll second that,” Magnus grumbled. “It was bad enough when humans controlled Drumindor; now there’s Ghazel wandering its halls.”
“The empire needs people of good character to guide and protect the people, good arms, strong arms, wise arms. I can only do so much.” She gestured at those in her court. “We can only do so much. The realm is vast and we can’t be everywhere. Plus, there is the matter of stability. While I am alive, the empire will be strong, but even small kingdoms have fractured at the passing of a monarch. The larger the empire, the greater the threat. With no structure in place, no solid tradition to hold us together, the empire could break into civil wars.”
“Two of the things that made the Old Empire so strong-so cohesive,” Nimbus told them, “were the Cenzarium and Teshlor Guild. The Grand Council was created from the best and brightest of both. They maintained order and could govern in the absence of a ruler. Until these institutions are restored-until wizards and knights of the old order patrol the roads and visit the courts of distant governors to ensure they are upholding the law-until they guard the borders of Calis and Estrendor, the empire will not be safe or whole.”
“Imagine what a hundred Hadrians and a hundred Aristas could do,” Modina told them. “And you.” She glanced at Myron. “We need a new university. Sheridan is gone. We can think of no one better to lead such a project.”
“But I-” the monk began.
“Think of it as a bigger monastery,” Nimbus interrupted. “Administering to a larger flock. You will teach them of lore, philosophy, engineering, languages-including elvish-and of course about Maribor. Teams can be sent into the old city to retrieve any volumes that still remain there. They can be the seeds that can help you spread knowledge to all who are willing to learn.”
“We will collect all the works and place them under a huge dome of the greatest library ever constructed,” Modina added.
“That does sound nice, but my brother monks…”
“There will be plenty of work for all.”
“I’ve already started laying the foundation for the scriptorium,” Magnus told him. “It’s five times the size of what we had at the Winds Abbey.”
“And the Cenzarium?” Arista looked at the dwarf.
Magnus smiled sheepishly. “The walls are already going up. If you look out there, to the left, you can see them.”
“So this has already been settled on?” she asked, pretending to sound indignant.
“While certainly no one,” Nimbus replied deftly, “least of all those present here-would ever ask any more of you two, and while you have earned a long and well-deserved rest, I was confident you would not abandon your empress, or the empire you fought so hard to establish.”
“Where’s the guildhall to be?” Hadrian asked.
Magnus pointed. “Across the square from the Cenzarium, of course. Just like in the old city.”
“At least we will be close neighbors,” Hadrian said.
“We can have lunches together.” Arista grinned at him.
“And in between them will be a fountain and statue of Alric, Wyatt, and Elden,” Modina explained.
“Well?” Hadrian asked her.
Arista narrowed her eyes and pursed her lips. “You’re replacing yourself with us, aren’t you?” she asked Nimbus.
“Yes, you are to be the seeds of a new grand council.”
“At least you’re honest. All right,” she said, and then glared at Magnus. “But I will be the one to decorate the interior of the Cenzarium. I’ve seen dwarven tastes and it isn’t conducive to the Art.”
Magnus scoffed and grumbled something under his breath.
The door to the palace opened and Royce stepped out. “Hadrian, do you know where-” Royce stopped the instant he saw Nimbus, a look of shock on his face.
“Royce?” Hadrian asked.
Royce said nothing but continued to stare at the wigged chancellor.
“Oh, that’s right,” Modina said. “You’ve never met Nimbus, have you?”
“Yes-yes, I have,” Royce said. He stepped forward, approaching the chancellor. “I thought you were dead.”
“No,” Nimbus replied. “I’m still alive, my dear friend.”
Everyone looked at them, confused.
“But how?”
“Does it matter?”
“I came back,” Royce told him. “I tried to free you. I tried to save you, but Ambrose told me…”
“I know, but I wasn’t the one who needed to be freed, and I wasn’t the one you needed to save.”
The morning arrived bright and clear. Golden sunlight slanted across Amberton Lee, casting shadows marking the growing city that spread out like a newly planted field of hope. In the valley, a low mist, like a white cloud, shrouded the twisting Bernum River and the air was still and quiet even on the hilltop.
Modina was already up. She wrapped a cape over her shoulders and headed out to the porch. She found Royce sitting there, his feet dangling from the side, watching the girls as they raced down the dewy hillside, chasing after Mr. Rings.
“You realize you’re taking one of my favorite girls from me,” she said.
He nodded. “I made Lord Wymarlin of the Eilywin tribe steward and gave him orders to set Erivan on a peaceful footing. I’ve left them alone too long and need to check on his progress.” Royce looked out at the girls. “Besides, I don’t want her growing up only knowing half the story. I need to learn it too. I have to cross the Nidwalden where no man has ever set foot, see Estramnadon and the First Tree. Three thousand years seems impossibly long now, but one day… It will be better if both sides became friendlier neighbors, I think. They aren’t ready to embrace men, and men aren’t prepared to welcome them yet, but in time… maybe.
“I’ve asked a number of those with mixed blood to pack their belongings and meet me at Avempartha. There aren’t many of us left now-a shame, as they could make perfect ambassadors-a foot in each world, as it were. They can be bridges for the future. We’ll start there, and then I’ll send them back here. Perhaps one day we’ll see an actual bridge across the Nidwalden with carts going both ways.” He pointed at the two girls. “That is the start of it, the heir of one throne and the heir of the other chasing an overgrown rodent together.”
Hadrian and Arista came out to the porch. They took up seats beside Royce and nodded good-morning greetings.
“Just make sure you take good care of her,” Modina said.
“Believe me-no harm will come to that little girl so long as I live.”
Hadrian laughed suddenly and Modina and Arista turned to him.
“What?” Arista asked.
“Sorry, but I just got a vision in my mind of Mercedes’s poor would-be suitors. Can you imagine the courage of the lad capable of asking him for her hand?”
They all laughed except Royce, whose face darkened as he muttered, “Suitors? I never really thought-”
Hadrian slapped Royce on his shoulder. “Come on, I’ll help you with your gear.”
Royce finished loading the last saddlebag onto a packhorse the grooms had brought out. He once again checked the cinches of the pony Mercedes would ride. He was not about to trust the security of her saddle to anyone.
Myron was there, petting the horses’ noses and saying a blessing over them. When he caught Royce watching, he smiled and said one over the new king as well. “Goodbye, Royce. I’m so pleased to have met you. Do
