Metamorphoses

VIII

Henry Atwood was enjoying his voyage down the Danube on board the OWS Nereid. No longer did the tricolour of Rothenia flutter from the warship’s stern, but the blue flag with gold star and anchor which was the ensign of the recently established Imperial Navy of the Oecumene. The royal banner of the King of Rothenia flew at the mainmast behind the bridge however, because King Maxim was on board, and under it was the flag of an admiral, who was travelling to take up command of the squadron of the Imperial Fleet now assembling in the Sea of Marmara, warships from various sources repurposed for the new navy. All this made a good feature, which Henry was recording en route and sending back to Eastnet for broadcast. The Oecumene was going to have a substantial fleet, a fleet air arm and a marine corps which would project its power across the globe, but no army as yet. Military forces would be raised ad hoc if needed from its members’ armies and air forces.

‘Okay, Henry. That was a good take. Print it?’ Marek Toblescu was clearly happy.

‘Very happy, Marek. What did you think, Will?’

‘Me, Herr At-vood?’ His new aide was looking thoughtful. ‘You were great, sir. But the main thing for me was that you were opening up a subject nobody’s talking about. We know Rothenia destroyed the Horde, and our heroic army and generals cleansed the Balkans of its legions. And we’re proud of that, as we should be. But they can’t just keep going and pacify the chaos of the Near and Middle East alone. Rothenia is no imperial power, we’ve just had empire thrust upon us.’

Henry raised an eyebrow. ‘Hear that, Marek? This boy’s got quite a way with words. Put that in the summary. Make a note, Will. Rothenia after the Horde. Not an Empire.’ He noticed approvingly that Will blushed under his praise.

The Nereid was entering the great artificial lake that backed up from the hydro-electric dam to their south. The limestone cliffs of the Iron Gates sank away as the destroyer gunned its engines and picked up speed, now the banks were receding on either side. Parties of sailors began climbing over the mainmast. And Henry was musing as to what they were doing when Prince Afran turned up, kissed Will and took his boyfriend’s hand. He was in military uniform.

‘You’ve been on this ship before, your highness.’ Henry observed. ‘What’s going on up there?’

The prince looked up. ‘Oh! The Nereid had to be adapted if it was to sail the entire length of the Danube to the Black Sea, sir. The two Iron Gates ship locks which bypass the dam can take its length, depth and breadth, but they were built for low-hulled barges not warships. They have bridges over them that don’t swing, so the mainmast has to be disassembled so Nereid can pass the locks. The commodore who was our captain on the voyage up was scathing about the Dam authorities. The repairs on the Iron Gates passage after the Horde’s damage could have installed improved new bridges that lift or swing, but they did not have the vision to accommodate the improvement. So we go through this performance. Though it has to be said that the sailors are very efficient in what they do.’

Henry chuckled. ‘Rothenian sailors. That’s a difficult concept to get used to.’

Afran shrugged. ‘I’m having a similar struggle over the existence of a Kurdish squadron on the Black Sea that my mother created out of derelict Turkish warships. They are helping suppress pirates operating out of Sebastopol and Odessa. I think they’re destined however to be incorporated in the Imperial Fleet if they can be upgraded.’

Henry mused, ‘Cleansing the seas of pirates and building a navy was the first step Rome made towards becoming a world empire, so the Oecumene is taking a well-worn path, one that the British and the Americans each took in their days of world hegemony.’

Will looked at Afran, then asked. ‘Is that the sort of empire the Oecumene will be, do you think?’

Henry frowned. ‘I do hope not. But each in their way kept the world in a state of peace, and it is in establishing universal peace that the Oecumene can justify itself and find a mission.’

Afran smiled and squeezed Will’s hand. ‘And the monarchs within the Oecumene will look to the imperial throne and the one who occupies it for a pattern as to how they must rule to be worthy of their title.’

***

Will stood with his mother and Afran at its stern as the OWS Nereid entered the Bosphorus strait and passed under the great span of its surviving bridge, the Sultan Mehmet Fatih. Will was charmed at the towers, domes, minarets, parks and jumbled tenements that climbed up the hills from the shoreline.

‘That’s where General Cornish has his headquarters,’ said his mum, indicating the long limestone frontage of the Feriye Palace, draped with the blue banners of the Oecumene.

‘It’s also where the Emperor will live when he’s here, I believe,’ chipped in Afran. With a grin he added, in the manner of a tour guide, ‘And if you turn your eyes to the opposite shore you will see the transpontine suburb of Üsküdar, which now forms part of the Kingdom of Rum, and is waiting in breathless anticipation of the arrival of its handsome young king.’

‘Are we getting off here?’ asked Will, for the engines of the destroyer revved and backed. ‘Yes boys,’ said his mother, dressed now in her one-star Rothenian general’s uniform, as she had officially taken up her appointment at the court of Rum as the Oecumene’s military adviser. ‘Go get your bags, and we’ll be ferried by the captain’s barge to the palace. I think you two are sleeping in the Radisson though.’

They were joined on the barge by a grinning Henry Atwood. ‘Gotta check in with my Edward,‘ he said. ‘He’s gonna give me a rollicking ‘cos I swore I’d give up TV work and concentrate on politics. He’s a full general, and I’ve only got two stars, so he thinks he can boss me.’

Will laughed and squeezed Afran’s hand. ‘It’s good to have a partner who cares that much.’

Afran also guffawed. ‘Obey me, morally-compromised serf!’

‘Or what?’

‘You’ll find out, Will.’

‘Will I enjoy it?’

‘Depends on how morally compromised you are, I expect.’

General Martinovica’s eyebrows were lowering at the open flirting in her presence. It was probably as well that the barge reached the Feriye steps at that point and tied up. Bags were carried up to the embankment where a tall officer in the uniform of the new Oecumenic Imperial Guard awaited Henry. ‘Benedikt!’ the little man called. ‘They made you a general! Long overdue.’

‘A pleasure to see you too, General Atwood. I’m under orders to apprehend you and bring you in chains to your husband.’

Henry cast an amused glance over to Will and Afran. He winked. ‘Toldya!’ he snorted.

***

‘Chains?’ grinned Henry at his husband. ‘Ben was intrigued, though maybe not embarrassed. So he’s left the Polish army and joined the Imperial Guard?’

‘Don’t change the subject, you mendacious little Mendamero. You promised me that you weren’t going back in front of the cameras. You were going to concentrate on Parliament and your constituents.’

‘True, I did, but the opportunity to present Rudi’s apotheosis to the world live on TV was just too tempting, and there was something else too.’

‘Something else? Is this your seraphic instincts at it again, Henry?’

‘Maybe. It’s no longer just Rothenia that the World Beyond is engaged with, but a much bigger enterprise, the Oecumene. That’s what’s brought me here, that and a convergence on some new young friends: Prince Afran for one and his Rothenian boyfriend, your Krista’s son.’

‘So the Kingdom of Rum is more than just tidying up after the Horde?’

Henry shrugged. ‘Could be …’

Ed sighed. ‘It’s not just your instincts telling me this. Mine are screaming loudly about it. That’s why I want Krista at the table.’

Henry giggled. ‘So you have the mum in the game, and I have the son. I wonder if this is being scripted by the Seers of the World Beyond. I thought those buggers were taking a back seat since the fall of Malik-Rammu and the Great Uprising, but maybe not.’

‘The investiture of young Afran could be a crisis point, you think, little babe?’

‘It could be an opportunity for the ill-disposed. At least the Osmanoğlu clan are out of it for now. What are your intelligence people saying?’

‘Queen Rozhin’s people are my main source. I assume she’s got her eye on things.’

Henry chuckled. ‘She’s certainly got her finger on the pulse. Maxxie had good reason to raise her to power in Anatolia. It seems he chose well. And if he chose well with Rozhin, we can comfort ourselves with the probability that the same applies to Afran.’

‘I hope you’re right.’

‘I may stay on a few days and cover the lad’s investiture in Nikaea. Eastnet might appreciate an interview with a new young hero. I’ll ask his boyfriend to arrange it.’

***

Will sat himself down in the lounge of Afran’s suite and looked out of the picture window down over tumbled rooftops to the shining waterway of the straits below. Afran was busy in the adjacent office talking to a carefully selected group of political figures from the former Republic of Turkey. Will understood that the constitution of the new kingdom was under discussion. ‘The king has to come first, so it’s his privilege to decorate the place before he moves in,’ Afran had said with a grin.

Will took up the folder on the coffee table, in which a constitutional briefing paper was placed. The Turkish constitution of 1982 was supposedly the base model. It was a presidential constitution with the ancient American model of executive, legislature and judiciary, all supposedly co-equal. ‘But,’ Afran had said bleakly, ‘we know how that has turned out whenever it’s been tried. It turned into a presidential dictatorship, even in the old USA.’ So the kingdom of Rum was going to be a parliamentary state, with the executive function vested in the majority party in the Grand National Assembly, and overseen by the non-executive head of state, the king. It was royal powers which were under discussion. Will’s mum was arguing that Afran should be head of the military, to whom soldiers swore loyalty. ‘The military is the way dictatorship gets in the back door,’ she stated, followed up by numerous examples. Headship of the civil service was likewise reserved, as a way of monitoring corruption. ‘So what does parliament get to do?’ Will had asked Afran.

‘It keeps the purse strings, proposes and debates legislation and keeps an eye on the prime minister, just like in the old UK and in Canada now, where King James is doing such a good job.’

‘He’s pretty cute too, and gay! So are you modelling yourself on him?’

‘I could do a lot worse. If Rudolf Elphberg saved Europe, James Mountbatten-Windsor has pulled North America out of chaos. Rumour has it he’ll be at the Proclamation. He’s said to be coming across the Atlantic in a small fleet made up of former US warships, which he’s donating to the western command of the Oecumenic Navy.’

Following the collapse of the Unites States into religious and factional civil war, it had been Canada’s new king who had picked up the pieces after Cismontane and Ultramontane California and Texarkana had become independent republics. So the North West Pacific Coast, the Mid West and New England were now Canadian provinces dependent on Ottawa. The remainder of the old republic was a chaotic bear pit of theocratic and military dictatorships. Canada was the most important member of the Oecumene outside Europe, and was its first step to engagement with the whole planet, a keystone of an Arctic and Pacific strategy. King James’s sister was the new Queen Louise of Australasia, which was entering the Oecumene and would be the southern pole of the same strategy. Will was well-informed and aware of most of these developments, though he only began to realise the big picture as Afran explained it to him. It was one way he was realising his Franzi really was cut out to be a king. Will was at the picture window reflecting on this when his phone pinged. It was an email from his dad. <Hi son. Hope you’re having a good time in the world of royalty, and the TV internship is working out. I thought you’d like to know that AllmyFans was (I quote) “astounded to discover that its rigid safeguards against underage participation on its site” had been breached by you, Johan and Jules. They have taken your illegal site down and banned you for life (sorry). As some sort of compensation you might be interested to hear that my (I quote) “nuisance suit” against them as a concerned parent has been settled by a substantial ex gratia payment, which will pay for the next ten Christmases. I laughed in their faces about a suggested NDA. In fact I went straight across the road and talked to a police friend of mine in the Vice squad about the use of slave labour in servicing an AllmyFans site. Jules Kral was arrested and given a very uncomfortable morning which was probably as nothing compared to the discomfort he experienced when his dad picked him up in the afternoon. The little snot is getting exactly what he deserves, as I hear from his mum. Have fun. Dad.>

With a smile on his face, Will went to find Afran and share the email with him. Somehow he hoped it would help him regain his lover’s respect, which he felt he had lost over the AllmyFans fiasco.

***

The van the Eastnet crew had rented pulled in on a layby on the road south from Istanbul. It gave a view over the western end of the Sea of Marmara, and the techs were setting up a camera drone to get more elevated shots than the road offered. Will would like to have watched that efficient operation, but Henry Atwood was busy scanning the glittering blue sea, picking out the various vessels of the assembled fleet, and Will’s job was to take notes.

‘It’s gonna be quite the old-fashioned naval review,’ Henry observed, ‘apart from the fact that it’s in honour of a Rothenian. Now that big ex-American Ticonderoga class cruiser is gonna be the centre of things. I think … yes … the King of Canada is on board, cos I can see the red of his royal ensign at the mainmast. Rudi will join King James there as the review saluting base. My God, that is a display of naval might not seen for many years. Four cruisers, eight destroyers including our Nereid, a helicopter carrier and lots of small fry. The Mediterranean has just got a lot safer for merchant shipping. I gather from my Edward that King James’s squadron blew a pirate base on the Achaean coast to smithereens en route.’

Will pondered this. ‘I suppose the next job for the Oecumene must be North Africa, if it wants to suppress piracy. And that means Oecumenic troops landing in Libya, Tunisia and Algeria. The Horde never got past Suez, so this would be homegrown chaos the emperor will be tackling.’

Henry nodded. ‘True enough, kid. And that will be another thing your Afran will be helping to solve. Kurdistan and Rum will be functional Muslim monarchies within the Imperium and a model for new ones between Egypt and Morocco. So when he gets round to it my Edward will be state-building for the Oecumene in North Africa, not conquering.’

This observation triggered one of Will’s intellectual puzzles. ‘Henry sir, I’ve been thinking for a long time about the way the world is suddenly changing: there’s an avalanche of governmental change around the world. France, Poland, Germany and Italy are getting kings again, and new monarchies are popping up everywhere. Why do you think this is happening?’

Henry gave the boy a sharp look. ‘I can recommend some books, Will. But the consensus is that constitutional monarchy across Northern Europe and the Arabian peninsula has long proved itself to be the most stable form of government. Then along came Rudolf Elphberg in Rothenia and supercharged the idea of monarchy in a world which was apparently falling apart, and where a king of a medium-sized state was able to save a continent. And now the apotheosis of the idea is the Oecumene, an empire set above national kingdoms with the interests of the entire human race at its heart. The more trivial minds however see it as a secret coup set up by a world alliance of editors of celebrity magazines. Cui bono sort of thing.’

‘Cui bono?’

Henry laughed. ‘Latin tag for an analytical tool, Will. It means basically “If you’re looking for someone to blame for something, look at the persons who most benefit from the change.” It doesn’t necessarily work, as you can see.’

Will shook his head, as there was to him something not quite right about Henry’s reasoning. ‘Herr At-vood, I can understand all that, but from my reading of history some kings are incompetent, immoral and downright evil. Bad kings turn up in all monarchies, even Rothenia. So the Oecumene is eventually going to have to deal with a bad emperor. How do you guard against a future threat like that, sir? It’s not a perfect system.’

Henry Atwood gave Will a long look. ‘That’s true enough, but maybe things are at long last changing in human society. Rudolf Elphberg is no longer king in Rothenia. There is now his son, King Maxim. You’ve met him. How did he appear to you?’

‘Huh? No ordinary teenager, I guess. He was confident, sympathetic, charming and deeply intelligent. He has quite a way with people. Are you saying he’s the future?’

‘I suppose I am. There has been no king like him, the foretold Golden Elphberg who will redeem his people and lead them into a glorious future as queen among nations.’

Will was a little taken aback. ‘Excuse me sir, but that comes over as mystical wish fulfilment. From your published work, I had not taken you for a romantic.’

Henry looked briefly disconcerted, and then bellowed with laughter. ‘Nice one, Will babe. You do not disappoint. You do well to question, and the only ultimate answer I can offer to the monarchy problem is that when all else fails there is … well … me.’

‘You, sir? Oh, I see. You’re referring to the duty of the press to expose the moral shortcomings of kings and all in authority.’

Henry’s response did not however entirely clear up the obscurity. ‘Yeah, Will … sorta.’

***

Rudolf Elphberg threw a reception after the review for the senior officers of the new fleet and the early arriving VVIPs who had come for the Proclamation. Will stuck close to Afran on the fringes of the gathering in the Grand Hall of the Feriye Palace. He hung on to his flute of prosecco like a lifeline. Will was one of the few guests not in uniform.

‘There’s King James!’ he whispered urgently. ‘Who’s the guy with him, the one not in uniform.’

Afran gave him an amused glance. ‘I thought you were the one for the gossip columns, Will. That’s Jason Connor, his not-quite-acknowledged boyfriend, star player in the Toronto Maple Leafs.’

‘The what?’

‘It’s one of the big Canadian ice hockey teams.’

‘He’s hunky. They’re pretty much out today; he has his arm through the king’s.’

‘They are a glamorous couple. I don’t think we quite qualify for that category. Come on Will, let’s go say hello.’

‘What? Hey …!’

Before he was quite prepared for it, Will was face-to-face with King James III of Canada, and was taking his offered hand. He bowed and stuttered out a ‘Your Majesty’ as Afran introduced him as ‘James, this is Willem Martinovic, my boyfriend’.

The king had a pleasant smile. He overtopped Will by a few inches, a height emphasised by the admiral’s uniform tailored carefully to his slim figure. Will spotted the star of the Rothenian Order of Henry the Lion amongst others on his jacket breast, alongside the English Order of the Garter. The gold and enamel chain of the Grand Cross of the Order of Canada was draped round his neck, and its red and white ribbon crossed his chest.

‘We’re glad to meet you Willem, can I call you Will?’ His accent was solid British public school, rather like King Maxim’s English in fact. ‘Rudi told us about your encounter with an assassin in Strelzen. This is Jason Connor, who we’re about to officially announce as my boyfriend, and soon to be partner.’

Afran was prompt and effusive in his congratulations. ‘You can tell us how these things are to be done, James. Marriage to a man is unique in the annals of monarchy.’

Jason barked a laugh. ‘Tell me about it. I’m holding out for the title of Duke of New York. What d’you think?’

The king squeezed Jason’s arm. ‘You know it’s problematical, honey. Theoretically I can make dukes and earls and all that, but how does a duke relate in status to the existing Grand Chiefs of the First Nations? Kingdoms can fall on issues of precedence, and have done.’

Jason was not in the least abashed. He laughed again. ‘I’d settle for Boston.’

The king kissed Jason’s cheek. ‘You’re incorrigible. Do you get this with Willem too, Afran?’

Afran smiled and squeezed Will’s hand. ‘No, James. He’s as careful and diplomatic as I could wish.’

Will smiled under the praise, but could not help feeling a certain undertow of guilt when he recalled the AllmyFans fiasco he had walked blindly into.

The talk turned to King James’s plans. He was proposing to attend Afran’s installation as king in Nikaea, and then was hitching a lift with Maxim of Rothenia back to Strelzen for a state visit. He had promised to take Maxxie and his brother Leo to Britain thereafter on his RCAF jet transport. King James was proposing to visit with his cousin King William V of England before returning to Ottawa. Matt White and Andy Peacher were expected to deliver Maxxie and Leo to Medwardine School for the new term.

‘What’re your plans, Afran?’ King James asked.

‘I’ve got a couple of weeks to try out my throne for size before I return to Strelzen and begin my degree course at the Technische. Will is beginning his law course at the same time. We haven’t yet discussed what he proposes to do after my installation. Ideas, Will?’

‘Er … well I’d thought to stay on after the big day, but I wonder if I’ll just be in the way.’

King James smiled at him. ‘You won’t be in the way, Will. Jason may be a prat at times, but for me he’s often the quiet voice of sanity at the end of a hectic day. Also he gives a great massage.’

Jason sniggered. ‘And the rest …’

James rolled his eyes. ‘And the rest, indeed.’

***

For all sorts of reasons Will felt the need for a long quiet walk the next morning. So leaving Afran snoozing, he had a quick shower and exited the hotel in his running gear. He set his sights on the distant bulk of Hagia Sofia and followed the boulevards that headed in that direction. Even in the early morning, the plaza surrounding the great mosque were full, though tourists were being turned away from the gates. Work was clearly under way to prepare for the Proclamation Ceremony of Emperor Rudolf, with technicians at work on cables and banners being hung from every available pole.

‘Wanna go in and have a look?’ a teenage voice asked Will from his elbow.

‘Maxxie? What’re you doing here?’

‘Same as you I guess, Will. Bored and curious. Now, just follow me.’

The boy gave him a shy grin, and took off through gates into a courtyard where uniformed security guards were looking askance at the crowd. Maxxie however walked unchallenged past them with Will in tow.

They emerged under the span of the vast dome apparently floating suspended above them. ‘A bit amazing, eh?’ the young king said. ‘I think this is what I’m looking for,’ he added. He led Will to a pattern of coloured marble circles set in the floor, set within a square. ‘This is the Omphalion, the space under the dome where the Eastern Roman emperors used to be crowned. It’s a symbolic representation of orbs terrestrialis, the whole sphere of Creation. Dad reads a lot of history. He isn’t gonna be crowned as emperor of course, because that would have to be a Christian ceremony in a mosque. But his throne as emperor will be set up here and his proclamation declaimed as he assumes the high seat.’

‘In what language?’ asked Will.

‘Ahah! I argued for Rothenian, but it’ll be in Latin and Ancient Greek, with translations, in token of the institutional history of empires. And it’ll be less likely to offend the local population. Or so we hope. The chaos of the Horde days may encourage a certain amount of tolerance towards our innovations, we do hope. But there’s still of lot of things unsettled.’

‘Where’s your dad going to live after his proclamation, Maxxie?’

‘Him and Mum are having an intense discussion about that. When there’s both an Elphberg emperor and a king at the same time Dad thinks it’d be a good idea for the emperor to live in New Constantinople at least some of the time, and keep an eye on the orbs terrestrialis. But I need to be in Strelzen. When I follow Dad as emperor it will become a more difficult issue. So for many different reasons I think I’ll rule as emperor from Strelzen, and a viceroy will govern the Elphberg exclave of Thrace.’

As ever, the young king’s self possession and clarity of vision took Willem aback. The kid seemed to think in centuries, which for a fourteen year old boy was unexpected. It also occurred to Will that his Afran was not dissimilar in outlook.

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