George Tiberius Bellatrix, the brief, and uncrowded, King of Carrow, sitting at the head of the gaudily carved oaken table on which treaties and proclamations had been signed in years past, had scowled with barely suppressed fury as he signed the abdication documents.

     High ranking Carrow priests and nobleman had stood around him in the audience chamber of Greyspire Palace, the chamber which the King had once ‘owned’ by his very presence, his authority absolute and unchallenged. Princess Ardria had also been sitting at the table, along with the Brigadier, Chancellor Den Wilks and General Adam Briggs, all of them dressed in fine ceremonial clothes that made been made for them since the surrender had been agreed.

     The Princess had thought that forcing George to abdicate his crown here was an unnecessary act of humiliation that would leave him feeling aggrieved and resentful, possibly storing up trouble for the future, but apparently there were procedures that had to be followed for this sort of thing. A couple of centuries back, Prince Benwell, following the death of his uncle, King Wenford, had forced his cousin, Prince Horramell, the rightful heir, to abdicate in this room, in this manner, thereby forming a precedent that had to be followed. She could probably have insisted that they do things in a slightly less public way, but she still wasn't secure enough in her authority here to make waves in that way.

     She had thought for a while that the country's nobility might want to keep George as their King, which would probably have meant more problems for Helberion in the future once he'd recruited another army. The country still had plenty of spare manpower, due to the perilous state in which the drought had left the agricultural industry, and if George could have recruited enough farmers before they fled across the border it wouldn’t have taken long for him to bring the military back to its pre-war strength. King Nilon's betrayal, on top of the reputation that he’d already had, had soured the common people towards the entire royal family, though. They wouldn’t stand for another Bellatrix ruling over them, and the nobility had had enough sense to see that anyone who tried to stand with the Bellatrixes would probably have ended up hanging from the same scaffold as them. It had been they who'd ‘encouraged’ George to step down, therefore, and after a few days of ranting and raving he'd eventually come to see that he'd had no choice.

     He had had to sign twelve copies of the document, each of which would be kept by a different dignitary as proof that the abdication had taken place, and then each of the twelve copies had had to be signed by the same dignitaries, to testify that they had witnessed the ceremony. Finally, George had had to stand and say out loud to the whole room that was abdicating the crown of his own free will. The whole procedure had taken nearly three hours, but such a monumental event could not be rushed and it made sure that everyone present had understood the magnitude of what was taking place.

     When it was finally over, everyone had stood and footmen had entered to carry the heavy table and chairs out of the room until only the throne itself was left; the large, golden chair that the monarch occupied on state occasions. The chair that George had never sat in and now never would. Guardsmen had then entered to escort George and his retinue out of the chamber. They had been promised comfortable, secure lives in estates in the north of the Kingdom. They would want for nothing, but they would be watched to make sure they didn’t try to gain a following among the nation's nobility in an attempt to regain the throne. If they did, Ardria would have no choice but to order their execution.

     All that had then been left was to decide who the next ruler of the country would be. There were several noble families who claimed a historical right to the throne, usually citing brothers and cousins to a king who'd ruled several centuries before, but none of them had had a strong enough case to banish all doubt and make all the other contenders back down. The prospect of civil war had loomed over the conference table, and it had eventually become clear that the only way to ensure a peaceful future was to choose someone that the common people could rally around. An outsider whom everyone could accept. It had been decided, therefore, that the country would merge with Helberion to become one country, ruled over by King Leothan and, one day, by his daughter Ardria, beloved of the people of Carrow.

      There were still many details to be worked out, of course. Leothan wouldn’t be able to rule the new country from Marboll, because that would look too much like a takeover, a conquest, and not even the Princess’s most ardent supporters in Carrow would stand for that. Neither would he want to rule from Charnox because it was a hideously ugly city. The palace itself was all very fine, but the city that surrounded it was a nightmare of narrow, claustrophobic streets and huge blocky buildings. Leothan would rather have ruled from a cow shed. A new capital would have to be found, therefore. Somewhere near the geographical centre of the new country, which would put it within the current borders of Carrow. Leothan didn’t mind that, though. There were plenty of small, pretty towns with nearby mansions that could easily be upgraded to become the seat of a head of state and whose current occupants could be persuaded to move out with promises of new lands and titles.

     Then there was the problem of what currency the new country would use. Banks were still a fairly new innovation, but representational wealth was well established and coins had not been made out of precious metal for several decades. People on both sides of the border were nevertheless in the habit of keeping large stores of currency hidden on their property, often buried in clay pots in their gardens as a precaution against burglars. The abolition of either currency any time in the next fifty years or so would therefore wipe out the life savings of a great many people. The only solution, it seemed, was to accept both currencies as legal tender for the foreseeable future, with a fixed exchange rate between the two.

     Then there were the guilds, often duplicated in the two countries and both claiming to be the sole authority in charge of their particular trades or services. In Carrow the Kings had made money for over a hundred years by selling monopolies in the supply of particular goods and materials. Abolishing those monopolies, as had been done in Helberion almost as soon as they'd broken away from Carrow rule, would create an economic crisis, but allowing them to continue would drive several Helberian companies out of business. And then there was the army. Merging the two armies would mean expecting soldiers to serve shoulder to shoulder with men who had been trying to kill them just a few months earlier...

     Leothan and his advisors had their work cut out for them, therefore, but nothing could dampen the King's joy at learning that his daughter was alive and well. He was still in Marboll, overseeing the rebuilding of a city that would soon cease to be the capital of a country. If there had been any way he could have been in Charnox, to be with Ardria during the abdication ceremony, he would have been there, but the distance between the two cities was just too great and the volatility of the political situation meant that the abdication could not be delayed. Just knowing that he would see her again, one day, put a new spring in his step and a smile on his face, though. A joy and delight that transmitted itself to the whole city. The whole kingdom.

     The King was humming to himself as he set out the pieces on the Glory board, therefore. “Do you know, I haven't played Glory once since the war started,” he said to his guest, sitting across the table from him. “That was with your predecessor, Arwin Tsocco.”

     “Yes, he told me,” replied Olwen Thorpe, the new Kelvon ambassador. “He said he used to enjoy playing against you a great deal.”

     Leothan looked up at him, a smile on his face. “You know him then?”

     “He paid me a visit when he learned that I was to be his replacement. Wanted to give me a few words of advice. Tell me about some of your little eccentricities.”

     “Tell you how to handle me, you mean.”

     “Well, yes.”

     “So, how did he tell you to handle me?”

     “He said it was important to let you win at Glory now and then, to keep you in a tractable frame of mind.”

     Leothan stared at him, then burst out laughing. “Yes, that sounds like him! So, how's he doing these days? How's he getting on with his redfruit plantation?”

     “Very well, he says. He’s loving it. A much slower pace of life, with the staff doing most of the actual work. All he has to do is go see what they're up to now and then and figure out what he's going to do with all the profits. He says he's hoping to sell his first harvest next autumn and finally get back some of the money he's sunk into the place. Redfruit is expensive at the moment. The way the Radiants screwed up the weather to give Carrow that drought caused crops to fail all across the continent. Arwin looks set to make a killing.”

     “Maybe, but as weather patterns return to normal all the other plantations will be harvesting crops as well. They say the rains are returning to Carrow. All the farmers who fled the country are returning to their land, ploughing, planting crops. Before long, they might be the breadbasket of Greater Helberion.”

     “Is that what you're going to call your new country? Greater Helberion?”

     “Well, no. Far too inflammatory. We'll probably call it Carberion or something horrible like that. The diplomats are still thinking it over. I'll probably go with what they say will cause the lease disaffection across the whole of the new country.”

     “That would probably be best. You know, this new country of yours will be the second largest and powerful human nation in the world, second only to the Empire itself. You've got people all over the world sitting up, taking notice. Wondering what this whole thing means for them.”

     “The Empire has no need for concern. We have no great imperial ambitions. Even if we did, it’ll take us a generation at least to sort things out here, get the new country running smoothly, and even then, the Empire is still three times our size. Tyron can't possibly think we're a threat to him.”

     “Empires survive by thinking generations into the future. All that paranoia about Helberion stealing our export markets, not all of that was the result of Radiant agents trying to stir things up. There are people back home who genuinely worry about who will be carrying the biggest stick a century from now.”

     “Well, that’s not something I'm going to worry about. I'll be happy if we get enough crops harvested this year to feed everyone in Carrow and Helberion. It'll be a long time before I allow myself the luxury of thinking more long term than that.” He looked up and, just for a moment, he saw a doubtful look on the other man’s face. Then Olwen Thorpe smiled, appearing to accept the statement. He raised the glass of kelnish wine the King had previously poured for him and took a sip from it.

     “So,” said the King, thinking it time to change the subject. “How are things in the Empire? I hear the negotiations are going well.”

     The Ambassador scowled. “The leaders of the People’s Movement are making outrageous demands. More power for local authorities. Seats on the Constituent Assembly. Prosecutions for abuses of authority. They want a whole new branch of government to whom even the Emperor himself would be answerable! Well, they won't get that, but Tyron might end up having his powers curbed to a considerable extent. He's not happy right now, I can tell you.”

     “At least you're talking,” said Leothan. “That's the important thing. Talking is better than fighting. I haven't heard about any more acts of sabotage, any more riots. Is that because there haven't been any, or...”

     “There haven’t been any,” replied the Ambassador. “The whole movement seems to have settled down since the Emperor agreed to meet with them for talks.”

     “Since Lord Benjamin Hedley died,” added Leothan, giving the other man a sharp look.

     “Well, there's still no proof that he was involved, but privately, yes. Witnesses have come forward saying there was almost always at least one Radiant floating above his house. There are, apparently, some irregularities with his finances. One of the missing imperial agents suggested a possible connection with Lord Hedley in his last report before he vanished. Privately, yes, I think it’s likely he was connected with the affair, but there's nothing concrete we can bring before a court of enquiry, and since the man's now dead, the prevailing mood seems to be to let the whole thing just slip away and be forgotten.”

     “You might not want to say that to the Brigadier, if you ever meet him. He's absolutely convinced that his former batman saved the Empire.”

     “The mere suggestion that the Empire is that fragile would be damaging. The official party line is that the Empire is as solid as a rock and that it would take more than one traitorous nobleman to bring it down. The most important part of stability is the appearance of stability, as you know very well, of course.” Leothan nodded his agreement.

     “Speaking of the Radiants, what are we going to do about them?” asked the Ambassador. “We have these Electric Messiah machines in every large city now across the entire human world, and the creatures seem to have retreated to their own territories for the time being, but it won't stay that way. They need humans to adopt, to make new Radiants. They're going to have to come back, they have no choice, and there are still humans who want to be adopted. There needs to be some kind of official arrangement worked out with them. Between them and someone who can represent the entire human world. Someone whose judgement every human nation would trust.”

     “I was thinking the Brigadier might be a good choice. If he went to a Radiant territory with representatives from every human nation...”

     Olwen Thorpe smiled. “I was hoping you would say that. Emperor Tyron would certainly be happy with the Brigadier taking charge of the negotiations.”

     “Then it’s agreed. As soon as the situation in Carrow is stable enough. Ardria has her own bodyguard of Helberion troopers now. She's in no physical danger any more, or at least no more than she would be if she were back here, but the Brigadier himself is a stabilising influence. Just having him there during these transitional times... Still, I think we’ll be able to spare him before long. There’s literally nothing in the world more important than our relationship with the Radiants.”