and the lawmakers. Everyone is charged with protecting the greater good from individual ambition, and bound with sacred oaths. As long as whichever family holds the Imperial throne proposes talented successors, the other princes confirm them. If an Emperor stumbles too often, some other noble family will present their own candidate. Every so often the princes decide it's time for a change of dynasty."
"And all this ensures peace and harmony?" scoffed Eclan.
Tathrin grinned. "There are untimely deaths and convenient accidents and no end of negotiations over land and marriage settlements, but the princes know that cooperation serves their own best interests." His smile faded. "They still remember how their ancestors were fool enough to allow Nemith the Last to claim the throne because every wiser man was busy quarrelling with his rivals. Until Nemith brought the Old Empire crashing down into the Age of Chaos."
"And the Lescari liked chaos so much they've cherished it ever since?" Eclan teased.
"Ancient Tormalin rule over Lescar was different." Tathrin tried to stifle his irritation, but it still coloured his tone.
"I didn't mean to speak out of turn," Eclan said slowly. "I'm just curious."
They drew to a halt outside the imposing severity of the Excise Hall.
"Are you two going to sit chewing your cheeks all day?" A man in Excise Hall livery glared at them.
"We're here to get our weights certified." Jumping down from his seat, Eclan used his fingers to blow a piercing whistle. Three urchins idly picking through litter beside a public fountain came racing up the street.
Eclan held up a silver quarter-mark and each boy's eyes fixed on it. "Water the pony and keep your pals off the cart and there's one of these for each of you when we come back."
"Aye." The tallest of the three spat into a grimy palm and held out his hand.
Eclan spat and shook on it without flinching. Tathrin didn't think he could have done the same.
"Right, let's get these weights certified."
They carried the heavy chest through the arch into the Excise Hall's forecourt. There was already a long line of people waiting to be summoned before the assessors.
Tathrin saw a close knot of short, stocky men with flaxen hair and guarded expressions wearing high-collared tunics. "Mountain Men?" he queried.
"It's not just Lescari tapsters who value a properly certified set of weights." Eclan lowered his end of the chest. As Tathrin did the same, Eclan sat on it and looked up expectantly. "So what happened when the Tormalin legions of the Old Empire first invaded Lescar?"
"Move up." Eclan shifted and Tathrin sat beside him. "They conquered the local lords and divided Lescar into six provinces. Each province had a governor who answered to the Emperor. All revenues were sequestered for the use of the armies and the administration of justice wherever Imperial writ ran. So Lescari coin financed the conquest of Caladhria and Tormalin ventures into Dalasor and Gidesta. The governors all competed to earn Imperial favour by increasing revenues, and some say that's how the rivalries first started." He tried to keep his tone level.
"And when the Old Empire fell?" Eclan was watching the line moving slowly through the door to the assessors.
"Each of the governors did his best to hold his province together, assuming the Emperor's writ would soon be re-established. Different claimants to the Tormalin throne offered them whatever coin they could scrape together to win their support. By the end of the Chaos the governors were calling themselves dukes and taking up arms against each other, claiming they had the Tormalin Emperor's sanction to rule the rest as High King. Each still believes his line has the truest claim to that throne. Each one bequeaths the insanity to his children." Tathrin couldn't hide his bitterness. "Since the Chaos, when the Tormalin princes whose lands run up to the River Asilor started thinking the grass looked greener on the opposite bank, other noble
"And all this ensures peace and harmony?" scoffed Eclan.
Tathrin grinned. "There are untimely deaths and convenient accidents and no end of negotiations over land and marriage settlements, but the princes know that cooperation serves their own best interests." His smile faded. "They still remember how their ancestors were fool enough to allow Nemith the Last to claim the throne because every wiser man was busy quarrelling with his rivals. Until Nemith brought the Old Empire crashing down into the Age of Chaos."
"And the Lescari liked chaos so much they've cherished it ever since?" Eclan teased.
"Ancient Tormalin rule over Lescar was different." Tathrin tried to stifle his irritation, but it still coloured his tone.
"I didn't mean to speak out of turn," Eclan said slowly. "I'm just curious."
They drew to a halt outside the imposing severity of the Excise Hall.
"Are you two going to sit chewing your cheeks all day?" A man in Excise Hall livery glared at them.
"We're here to get our weights certified." Jumping down from his seat, Eclan used his fingers to blow a piercing whistle. Three urchins idly picking through litter beside a public fountain came racing up the street.
Eclan held up a silver quarter-mark and each boy's eyes fixed on it. "Water the pony and keep your pals off the cart and there's one of these for each of you when we come back."
"Aye." The tallest of the three spat into a grimy palm and held out his hand.
Eclan spat and shook on it without flinching. Tathrin didn't think he could have done the same.
"Right, let's get these weights certified."
They carried the heavy chest through the arch into the Excise Hall's forecourt. There was already a long line of people waiting to be summoned before the assessors.
Tathrin saw a close knot of short, stocky men with flaxen hair and guarded expressions wearing high-collared tunics. "Mountain Men?" he queried.
"It's not just Lescari tapsters who value a properly certified set of weights." Eclan lowered his end of the chest. As Tathrin did the same, Eclan sat on it and looked up expectantly. "So what happened when the Tormalin legions of the Old Empire first invaded Lescar?"
"Move up." Eclan shifted and Tathrin sat beside him. "They conquered the local lords and divided Lescar into six provinces. Each province had a governor who answered to the Emperor. All revenues were sequestered for the use of the armies and the administration of justice wherever Imperial writ ran. So Lescari coin financed the conquest of Caladhria and Tormalin ventures into Dalasor and Gidesta. The governors all competed to earn Imperial favour by increasing revenues, and some say that's how the rivalries first started." He tried to keep his tone level.
"And when the Old Empire fell?" Eclan was watching the line moving slowly through the door to the assessors.
"Each of the governors did his best to hold his province together, assuming the Emperor's writ would soon be re-established. Different claimants to the Tormalin throne offered them whatever coin they could scrape together to win their support. By the end of the Chaos the governors were calling themselves dukes and taking up arms against each other, claiming they had the Tormalin Emperor's sanction to rule the rest as High King. Each still believes his line has the truest claim to that throne. Each one bequeaths the insanity to his children." Tathrin couldn't hide his bitterness. "Since the Chaos, when the Tormalin princes whose lands run up to the River Asilor started thinking the grass looked greener on the opposite bank, other noble
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