Chapter 677: A Political Future
A Political Future
Martel chewed on the last of his breakfast, mostly old bread with butter and slices of boiled potato. It had little taste, but food did not interest him much. "I remember Cheval's faction wants to expand the Empire, but you'll have to remind me what this duchess and her people want," he said to Eleanor. "The overseer gave me a lecture about it once, which I have blissfully forgotten."
"They seek reform in ways that would turn the Empire's gaze inwards, you might say. Isolate us, others would argue," Eleanor explained. They sat in his study, waiting for the duchess of Trior to arrive. "Our guest would agree with our aim to end the war with Khiva, for instance, rather than seek more territory."
"So far, so good."
"They would also withdraw the border legions from the Frosten River and abandon at least some of Nordmark," Eleanor continued.
"I guess there's some sense to that, given it's mostly wild and untamed land."
"And they would significantly reduce the Khivan population in Morcaster, for instance."
"Huh. As much as I've killed a lot of them in war, it feels different when they were born here," Martel admitted. "It's not their fault their parents came from elsewhere."
"The duchess and her supporters made the laws that forbids any with Khivan ancestry to obtain citizenship or own property, for instance. And while they are forced to deal with you, I imagine a Tyrian-blooded imperator galls their blood," Eleanor considered. "The duchess may not personally care, but some of her followers will."
***
The duchess of Trior was a woman who lived an easy life, though her voluminous dress exacerbated the impression she gave. She arrived in the same manner as the duke of Cheval, escorted by a single guard and plenty of legionaries. As she entered Martel's study, he rose to greet her. "My lady duchess." Her age was hard to tell given the cosmetics on her face, but he would guess she was past fifty.
"Captain." She smiled and inclined her head. "I am glad we can finally meet. I have heard your name so many times."
"None of it good, I'm sure. Please, be seated." Martel worried that with so many layers of clothing, she might buckle under them or get a heatstroke if she had to remain standing.
"I thank you. I understand you have already met with the duke of Cheval?"
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"Yesterday. I can't meet with every nobleman, or noblewoman, in this city, so those with a duchy will have to suffice."
"Sensible. I suspect he came offering his aid to help you during the negotiations."
Martel nodded. "You offer the same?"
"Of sorts. I will be happy to assist in that manner, naturally, but I had a different proposition in mind."
He placed his elbows on his desk and gathered his hands. "Which is?"
"Your legions declared you imperator, as I understand, but the legitimacy of this will be called into question, along with any decision you make. In days past, by the ancient laws of Morcaster, the Senate would confer such a rank on a worthy recipient, who would resign once their task had come to an end."
"There has been no Senate for seven hundred years," Eleanor interjected. "Not since the Aquilan conquest."
"But the laws were never repealed," the duchess argued. "Simply because the Senate has not been called in all those centuries does not make it invalid."
"What exactly are you suggesting?" Martel asked.
"The northern envoys already act as representatives for their regions. When they arrive, you will also assemble the dignitaries of Morcaster and other territories under your control. Convene the first Senate in all these centuries and have them declare you imperator. You may ratify all your decisions, including the armistice with Khiva and amnesty for your soldiers. You will resign when the time comes, and the Senate remains in power, selecting a new High Council," the duchess explained with satisfaction.
Martel understood her point after a moment's consideration. He had the power to do as he wished, at least in Morcaster and surrounding lands, but legitimacy meant his decisions would not be undone once he relinquished his rank. "That sounds well and good, but if this Senate is such a great idea, why was it never reinstated? Morcaster gained its independence three centuries ago." Quietly, Martel blessed Father Andrew for his history lessons.
"The emperor of those days saw no reason to diminish their power," Eleanor explained. "Except they ended up handing it over to the High Council instead."
"No man can rule alone." The duchess shrugged. "The greater the Empire, the more complicated it becomes. Reinstating the Senate will give you control over who is chosen for the new High Council, and it will legitimise all your decisions and actions."
Martel took a deep breath. "Thank you for the suggestion, my lady duchess."
***
He looked up at Eleanor once their visitor had left them alone. "Is this possible to do?"
She sat down opposite him. "In legal terms, I suppose so. But legality will not be enough on its own. Decisions made by this Senate will only be respected if the Senate is considered legitimate. If it is just a handful of your prefects, we may as well not bother. Like she said, this will require representatives from every region. Since half of them consider us traitors… Maybe we can convince them to grant us amnesty, but confirm you as imperator, along with all your political decisions?"
"Well, I haven't made any political decisions, have I."
"Not as such, except the armistice, but this opens the door for that. I find it difficult to imagine the duchess and her entourage is thrilled with handing such power to you, even temporarily."
Martel stroked his beard. "Unless they are as practically inclined as our guest yesterday." Ideas began to come to him. Instead of simply keeping the city and half the Empire running, perhaps he could do more.
Eleanor yawned. "That is possible. Forgive me, can we discuss this another time? My mind is not sufficiently rested for a topic of this complexity."
"Of course. I'll see you tomorrow. Sleep well."
"You too." Returning to her quarters, she left behind a captain prefect deep in his thoughts.