It was an impossibly ambitious goal, thought Aedan, and accomplishing it—if, indeed, it could be accomplished—would take at least a lifetime, yet Michael seemed determined to pursue it. He talked of little else. It was not enough for him that he had already accomplished far more than his father ever had, that the empire was reunited now and stronger than it had been in generations. He wanted to bring back the empire of the original Roele, whose name he bore, and to surpass all the accomplishments of the long line of Roeles who had preceded him.
Michael had become a driven man, and Aedan was concerned about him. He was obsessed with the idea of conquest. Despite the weariness he had professed at the end of the War of Rebellion, he could take no satisfaction in the peace he had achieved. The war had changed him. His formative years had been spent in warfare, and despite all the hardships it imposed, war was now in Michael’s blood. He lived to lead troops into battle, and he became moody and restless when he was confined to the palace for any length of time.
That, thought Aedan, was the crux of it. Michael felt confined. The daily routine of governing the empire was something he found oppressive. He delegated most of his responsibilities so that, in effect, Aedan ran the government while the emperor spent endless hours in planning strategies for new campaigns to expand the empire’s borders or organizing expeditions to quell raids by bandits and demihumans on the frontier. He had become, thought Aedan, what he had fought. He was a warlord. He had turned into Arwyn of Boeruine.
The people loved him for it. To them, he was a hero, the warrior-king who had saved the empire. Under his rule, they had enjoyed more peace and prosperity than ever before. However, Aedan knew it could not last. The people of the empire hailed his expeditions to put down bandit raids and drive back invading tribes of gnolls and goblins from their borders. They cheered him in the streets when he led his army on the march, but Aedan wondered how long those cheers would last when the treasury ran dry—for it was already seriously depleted—and new and greater taxes had to be imposed to finance the continuing campaigns.
For now, farmers were pleased to contribute a portion of their crop yield to help sustain the Army of Anuire, and herdsmen uncomplainingly provided meat to feed the troops, but as the campaigns continued and the size of the army increased as it did each year, Aedan knew these attitudes would change. For the present, it was not a hardship for a farmer to contribute a tenth portion of his crops to supply the army, but what would happen when the empire demanded half? Parting with a few head of sheep or cattle did not greatly discommode a herdsman, knowing he was playing a vital part in keeping the empire secure, but when the army came and marched away with half his herd, he would be sure to feel resentment.
Michael couldn’t seem to see that. The people loved him, and he could not imagine losing their support. For now, he had it, but if he maintained his present course, things were bound to change. Over and over, Aedan had tried to make him understand this, but Michael stubbornly dismissed all his concerns.
“You worry too much, Aedan,” he’d say with a smile. “As we pacify our frontiers and continue to expand our borders, we shall make more land available for farming and grazing. And as we make more opportunities for farmers to expand their fields and herdsmen to broaden their range lands, our new acquisitions will attract people from the cities to the frontiers, where they will see the chance to prosper. And when people prosper, Aedan, they do not become dissatisfied.”
“Indeed, there is truth in what you say,” Aedan had replied, “but you have neglected to take several things into account. It is not quite that simple. As we continue to expand our borders—which will cost us—it will require more of our resources to protect them. We will have to build more garrisons, create new peers to oversee the administration of the newly acquired territories, and recruit more troops to defend them. Those troops will all need to be supplied and fed and housed, and the expense of that will counteract the growth in prosperity that you envision for a number of years, at least.
“Aside from that,” he continued, “these constant campaigns, no matter how successful they may be, continue to impose a steady drain on manpower. We have already increased the number of mercenaries in our ranks significantly, and mercenaries do not have the same impetus to fight as do men who defend their homeland. In the War of Rebellion, most of our soldiers were family men. When they returned from their campaigns, they went to spend time with their families. Mercenaries, on the other hand, have no families to support, which means they have no responsibilities. When they return from the campaigns, they go into the city in search of entertainment. They go to gaming houses, brothels, and taverns.
“Since we have increased the number of mercenaries among our troops,” Aedan continued, “there has been a marked increase in such establishments to cater to them. Along with them has come a marked increase in crime. Once quiet and peaceful areas of the city have become raucous fleshpots where taverns and brothels remain open till the early hours of the morning and men stagger drunkenly through the streets, accosting female citizens, getting into brawls, and generally creating a nuisance. They, in turn, have attracted a growing number of alleymen and cutpurses, and the city sheriff is too overtaxed to deal with them all. There have been numerous petitions from our citizens complaining of this situation and of the behavior of the mercenaries when they are on the town. We need to hire more men for the sheriff’s guard, which will further tax our resources. To put it bluntly, Sire, we just cannot afford to continue on this course.”
“As I said, Aedan, you worry too much,” Michael had replied. “The empire is growing, and we are merely experiencing some growing pains. These are all matters that can be sorted out. We need no more men for the sheriff’s guard when we can employ the army to help police the city. A curfew can be instituted for soldiers on the town, and the city council can pass an ordinance decreeing that taverns, gaming houses, and other such establishments may not remain open past a certain hour. These are all matters that can be settled with a little thought and practical application. I leave them completely in your hands, as I have utmost confidence in you. Work with the city council to resolve them. I cannot be bothered with such trivial affairs.
“As for the rest of your concerns,” he added, “these things will all be settled in due course. New territories mean new wealth and opportunities and more security for the citizens of the empire. If this will tax our resources in the short run, the long term gains will compensate for short-term losses. We must look to the future. If that requires us to make some sacrifices in the present, so be it.”
Later that night, Aedan repeated the conversation to his wife as they prepared for bed. “It just seems hopeless,” he told her when he finished describing his discussion with the emperor. “He is wrong, and he is trying to move too fast, but I cannot convince him. It’s no different than when we were children. He is just as stubborn and obstinate as ever. The trouble is, I have always been the sensible one, the voice of restraint, and he simply thinks I am being stodgy and overcautious. Of what use am I as his first minister if he won’t listen to my advice?”
“He needs a wife,” said Ariel as she got into bed.