The Black Star Departs
From the first light of dawn, the Poema garrison was a hive of activity.
Lieutenant Colonel Matteo, commander of the garrison, had roused his soldiers and assembled them far earlier than the usual roll call. Today was the day the Commander-in-Chief would leave the garrison — and the day Matteo would reclaim his command. He could not afford to give His Highness the slightest excuse to delay his departure.
From the moment the Commander-in-Chief had arrived, every scrap of authority had passed to him. Matteo had quietly surrendered his command and kept his head down. For the past twenty-odd days he had been forced to rise at dawn, and he had not touched a drop of liquor. Being compelled to live virtuously had been absolute hell.
"Commander."
At his adjutant's report that the Governor had come out, Matteo started in surprise and hurried over.
"Your Excellency. I trust you passed a peaceful night."
Markel regarded the fawning Matteo with a long, unreadable look. Having nearly died in the night, he found the greeting sounded almost like mockery. Matteo was oblivious and lazy, but he wasn't a bad sort — a chicken-hearted man who pocketed nothing more than petty kickbacks, which made him perfectly suited to command the Poema garrison.
"The Commander-in-Chief is leaving shortly, is he not? I've come to see him off."
"If Your Excellency would wait inside, I'll inform you just before they depart."
"No. His Highness put down the forest fire ahead of schedule — he as good as saved Poema. How could I refuse to see him off, even if I had to do it barefoot? Commander, you ought to consider it an honor that His Highness holds jurisdiction over our region. Keep the garrison in good order, and when he arrives, report every matter to him at once. Understood?"
"Ah, of course. I'll take it to heart and carry it out."
Even as he answered, Matteo was puzzled. Not long ago he had been told that the Commander-in-Chief was only passing through, and that he should remember who Poema's true ruler was and conduct himself accordingly.
What's that old fox playing at all of a sudden?
"Then perhaps Your Excellency would wait elsewhere. The Black Star will be standing by over there."
"Now, now. I came out of my own accord — I wouldn't dream of inconveniencing a departing guest. I'll wait at the gate. There's no need to inform His Highness separately."
Matteo watched the Governor's retreating back as he headed for the garrison's main gate, and wrestled with himself.
Does he mean it, or is it just talk?
He muttered, "Ah, to hell with it," and went to inspect the soldiers' formation.
Not long after, a massive black carriage appeared.
The Commander-in-Chief's carriage, the Black Star, was less a vehicle than a small fortress set upon wheels. More than twice the length of an ordinary coach, it rose high at the ceiling; the body was sheathed in black iron plate and overlaid with thick leather. Six massive warhorses were harnessed to it, their reins and tack unified in the same dark hues. The thing radiated such innate intimidation that one instinctively thought, Do not touch this carriage.
"Whoa..."
Penny's eyes went wide, and she whispered to Rhea.
"I've never seen a carriage like that. I didn't know a carriage could look so scary."
Rhea smiled and nodded.
This is the first time I've seen the Black Star this close.
As the Commander-in-Chief of the Northeast's reputation had grown, his touring carriage had become a symbol in its own right. Rhea had glimpsed the Black Star passing in the distance a few times before. The sight of that pitch-black coach, tightly escorted by the Imperial Guard, had looked like an impregnable fortress even from afar.
"What imposing presence."
Kasim, too, gazed at the Black Star with admiring eyes. The entire Zephyros delegation had already gathered in preparation for departure.
Penny murmured,
"I think those are the carriages we'll be riding in."
Three carriages approached the party and came to a halt. The man seated in the driver's box of the lead carriage climbed down, approached Rhea, and bowed his head. Penny quietly sidled closer to Rhea's side. The man's bulk was intimidatingly huge.
Rhea remembered this bear of a man. She had seen him when she met Carion in the conference room, and again in the early hours of this morning. They had simply never been formally introduced.
"Luke, Captain of the Guard."
"Shall I call you Sir Luke?"
"Yes, please call me whatever you like. I'll be commanding your carriages for the duration of the journey."
"We move only under the command of our own representative."
Kasim spoke firmly, unwilling to lose a contest of wills against an Imperial knight.
"I don't mean to take command from you. I'll simply assist to ensure the carriages don't fall out of formation."
When the other man proved more courteous than expected, Kasim's expression softened.
"If that's the case, we'll cooperate."
Luke looked at Rhea.
"Please board the carriage."
"His Highness the Commander-in-Chief hasn't come out yet..."
"We'll depart the moment he appears. He doesn't like delays."
That did sound like him. Rhea nodded and spoke to her companions.
"All right, everyone. Into the carriages."
Once everyone had boarded, Luke climbed up into the driver's box of the lead carriage — the one Rhea had taken. The knights of the Guard shot him glances, as if this were something unusual. Luke normally claimed the driver's seat of the Black Star as his own.
Heh heh heh.
Luke wore a smile of deep satisfaction. He had hounded Orbin until he'd secured this post. After watching his lord and the princess's verbal sparring in the conference room last time, he had seized Orbin by the collar and shaken him — all to wring every last detail of their first meeting out of him.
Why was I the only one left out of something that entertaining!
Even that bastard Cedric got to see it!
Luke had been so aggrieved at being the only one absent that he could hardly stand it. But last night's events had settled that score. He alone had witnessed his lord and the princess's midnight rendezvous. He had told neither Orbin nor Cedric that he'd seen the princess last night, and he had sworn the guards who'd been with him to silence.
His Highness's romantic affairs are mine to monopolize.
He had resolved to stick close to the princess for the entire journey to the capital. No matter what happened, the front seat was his.
The Commander-in-Chief's retinue of some forty people finished their preparations for departure. Soon Carion emerged from the residence and came into view. The garrison soldiers standing in formation straightened their backs even further.
Carion spotted Luke sitting in the driver's box of the Zephyros delegation's carriage. His brow twitched, then he looked away.
Well done.
It had been on his mind anyway. Aside from a handful of his innermost circle, no one knew the delegation's true identity. His retinue all shared something of his own nature — they measured everything by efficiency, and they held their heads high. They would treat these unexpected extra mouths like so much cargo. But if Luke was attached to them, looking after them, not a single member of the retinue would dare treat them carelessly.
With the Black Star's departure, every carriage and member of the party began to move. The Zephyros party's carriages followed at the rear.
Just before they left the garrison, Rhea cracked open the window curtain and found people bowing deeply.
Have they come to see His Highness off?
She caught a glimpse of the face of the man standing at the very front as he lifted his head.
The Governor of Poema?
When Rhea had met him, it had been more than a decade from now — but he looked little different from then. She smiled and let the curtain fall.
From the moment she had opened her eyes that morning, she had been dying to know how Carion had handled the smuggling affair. She had been aware that she had crossed a line the night before, and so she hadn't been able to ask. Seeing the Governor of Poema come out to see them off, bowing so low his nose nearly touched the ground, it seemed things had been resolved well.
Was it flexibility, or compassion? Either way, I'm glad.
The Ministry of Finance, in the Imperial capital.
The Minister of Finance rose at once at the sight of a handsome young man with golden hair entering his office. The young man's rank was Director of Financial Audit — technically the Minister's subordinate — but his station was not one that could be ranked by office. He was of the Imperial bloodline, and the First Prince.
After some idle conversation, First Prince Enoch asked,
"Come to think of it, last year's tax settlement should be nearly complete. Has revenue increased?"
"It's about the same as the year before last."
"The same? Wasn't last year a bumper harvest?"
"The Empire is vast, Your Highness. Some regions had abundant harvests, while others barely gathered enough to feed themselves."
"And? What does that have to do with the taxes they owe the state?"
"...There have been tax shortfalls in certain regions."
"Do you have the ledgers?"
Enoch scanned the ledger the Minister handed him, then frowned.
"There's a place that's been in arrears for three years."
"Yes. Heketia, under the vassal state of Selene. It's suffered drought and plague for several years running. The Governor of Selene requested a deferment, but now that it's gone past three years, I was planning to report it to His Majesty shortly."
"Is there any need to trouble His Majesty with such a trivial matter? I'll handle this myself."
"Your Highness?"
"They've stolen from the Empire."
Enoch's vivid blue eyes gleamed with a cold light.