Ambition (7 page)

“I would ask that you give them to those who request them of their own accord. For those who do not, I see no need.”

Hilda’s words rolled off her tongue without the slightest hesitation.

“Well, well …” Reinhard said, smiling.

Reinhard’s intention was to thoroughly purge the empire of the old system that served as the Goldenbaum Dynasty’s support structure. For five centuries now, the aristocrats had engorged themselves on privilege, and Reinhard had no intention whatsoever of allowing them to survive into the new regime.

Once his power was absolute, he intended to eliminate all but the most useful of them, or cast them to the multitudes, perhaps, should the people cry out for blood.
Let them perish who lack the ability to survive
—that had been the belief of Rudolf, whom their ancestors had served. And now on the present generation would the sins of the fathers be visited.

Hilda had seen what was coming and had come to Reinhard seeking an official guaranty written in his own hand. Unlike a spoken promise, one that was set in writing could not easily be broken. Not only would doing so leave a blemish on Reinhard’s honor, it would invite distrust of his own system of authority.

Having taken such a measure on her own family’s behalf, Hilda was saying, “As for the other aristocrats, slay and spare, bestow and confiscate at your own good pleasure.” She wasn’t speaking from a merely self-centered position, though—saying, “If it’s well with me and mine, then to blazes with the rest”—she was in effect declaring that she would not align laterally with the old aristocratic families.

The young lady’s political and diplomatic instincts were incisive—frighteningly so.

From among the empire’s thousands of aristocratic families, a praiseworthy talent had at last appeared—at the tender age of twenty, and a woman, no less. Of course, Reinhard himself was only one year older than she.

It’s a sign of the times,
Reinhard thought. The era of rule by the aged was coming to an end. And not just in the empire. In the Free Planets Alliance, Admiral Yang had only just turned thirty, while Landesherr Rubinsky of Phezzan was still in his forties.

Even so, this young woman …

Reinhard stared at Hilda again and started to say something.

Just then, however, there was a commotion outside the door that he barely had time to register before a high-ranking officer burst inside, face flushed with excitement. His hulking frame was so large that he could block the entrance all by himself.

“Excellency! The malcontent nobles have finally started to move!”

His loud voice was a match for his build.

Karl Gustav Kempf, one of the admirals attached to Reinhard’s admiralität as well as a former ace fighter pilot, was well-known these days as a daring and fearless commanding officer.

Reinhard rose to his feet. This was the news he had been waiting for. Hilda’s eyes opened wide in spite of herself—his movements had been startlingly lithe and graceful.

“Fraülein von Mariendorf, I’ve enjoyed the chance to make your acquaintance today. I’d like to have dinner with you sometime.”

As Kempf was following Reinhard out of the room, he seemed for just an instant to turn a curious glance toward Hilda.

The nobles opposing the Lohengramm-Lichtenlade axis had gathered on Odin at Duke von Braunschweig’s villa in Lippstadt Forest. Officially, they had come to attend an auction of paintings by ancient masters, with a garden party to follow. In an underground hall, however, signatures had been collected in a “Roll of Patriots” opposing the tyranny of Marquis von Lohengramm and Duke Lichtenlade.

This was referred to generally as the Lippstadt Agreement, and the aristocratic military organization to which it gave birth was called the Lippstadt Coalition of Lords.

In total, 3,740 nobles participated. The combined strength of their regular and private armies numbered 25,600,000.

The coalition leader was Duke Otto von Braunschweig. The vice coalition leader was Marquis Wilhelm von Littenheim.

The roll that contained nearly four thousand aristocratic names also leveled blistering criticism at Duke Lichtenlade and Marquis von Lohengramm, and in grand and exalted language declared that the sacred duty of protecting the Goldenbaum Dynasty had been given to “the chosen ones” of the traditional aristocratic class.

“The divine patronage of great Lord Odin is upon us all, and of righteousness’s triumph there can be no doubt.”

Those were the words with which the statement was concluded.

“I wonder, could great Lord Odin really be their patron?”

After listening to Kempf’s report, Reinhard uttered those words with a heaping spoonful of sarcasm and looked around at the faces of subordinates who had gathered in the meeting room.

Siegfried Kircheis was present. Von Oberstein was present. The other admirals in attendance as well were all talented commanders, the cream of the armed forces’ crop.

“If they go crying to the gods for help at the outset, even Lord Odin will curl his lip in disgust. It might be different if they offered him a beautiful virgin sacrifice, but knowing Duke von Braunschweig, he might just take her for himself.”

Mittermeier, von Reuentahl, and Wittenfeld raised their voices in laughter.

Wolfgang Mittermeier’s build was a little on the small side, but with his firm, well-proportioned physique, he certainly looked sharp and agile. He had tousled blond hair the color of honey, and lively gray eyes. When it came to high-speed tactical maneuvers, he had no peer. At the Battle of Amritsar last year, he had pursued an enemy fleet that had taken flight and moved so swiftly that his own fleet’s vanguard had gotten mixed up in the tail of the fleeing enemy formation. Since that time, he had been honored with a nickname: Wolf der Sturm—“the Gale Wolf.”

Oskar von Reuentahl was a tall man, with brown hair so dark it was nearly black. He was quite handsome, but what always took people aback was his eyes. Thanks to a genetic fluke called heterochromia, his right eye was brown, and his left eye was blue. He had performed many daring feats, both at Amritsar and in other battles besides, and was highly regarded for his skill as an operations commander.

Fritz Josef Wittenfeld had somewhat longer reddish-orange hair and pale brown eyes. Some likely felt that something was slightly off in the contrast of his narrow face and powerful build. As a tactician, he was a bit lacking in flexibility, which had worked to the detriment of his comrades at Amritsar.

In addition to these, Reinhard’s top executives included Admirals Kornelias Lutz, August Samuel Wahlen, Ernest Mecklinger, Neidhart Müller, and Ulrich Kessler. Each was unique in his own way, and all of them were young. Together, they formed Reinhard’s most prized asset.

Speaking of assets, there were whispers lately of an impending financial crisis due to the prolonged war and the chaos at court. But when Reinhard said, “The fiscal crisis will be resolved in one fell swoop,” he wasn’t simply shooting off his mouth irresponsibly. The imperial family’s assets aside, there remained a vast source of untapped revenue: the assets of the nobles.

Naturally, he would confiscate every last thing that Duke von Braunschweig and Marquis von Littenheim owned; nor would he spare those who had joined themselves to their cause. And once he applied a regime of inheritance taxes, fixed asset taxes, and progressive taxation to those nobles who remained, the treasury would overflow with monies easily exceeding ten trillion reichsmark. The trial calculations had been completed already.

There would be a political necessity for gentler treatment of those nobles who sided with him, so from that perspective, the more nobles who made him their enemy, the better.

Squeezing the nobles dry would do more than simply meet the empire’s fiscal necessities. The common class had amassed a five-century store of anger and hostility toward those who lived immersed in extravagant lifestyles and held vast fortunes on which they paid no taxes.

Reinhard had to calm that anger, and he had to use it as well.

Certainly, he had a desire to reform politics and society. But for Reinhard, that had to come with the side benefit of the Goldenbaum Dynasty’s overthrow. This would all be for nothing if political and societal reform breathed new life into the Goldenbaum Dynasty.

The Goldenbaum Dynasty that Rudolf founded must end in bloodshed and devouring flames of judgment.
That was the sacred oath he had taken as a young boy, the day his beloved sister Annerose had been stolen away by a hideous old ruler. It was also a vow that Siegfried Kircheis shared.

Eugen Richter and Karl Bracke were regarded as leaders of the group known alternately as the Reform Faction and the Civilization and Enlightenment Faction. One way they showed the posture they had assumed was by voluntarily omitting the
von
from their names, in spite of their noble birth.

It had been right at the beginning of March that they were summoned by Reinhard and ordered to draw up an extremely forward-looking document called the Societal and Economic Reconstruction Plan. About a month had passed since the Lippstadt Agreement had been signed.

When they left Reinhard’s presence, they couldn’t help looking at one another.

“I can read what Marquis von Lohengramm has in mind. He intends to cast himself as a reformer to win the support of the people. That will be a powerful weapon when competing with the highborn.”

Bracke nodded at Richter’s words.

“Meaning that he’s using us to further his ambition. I can’t say I like it. There’s no way to say no, but what if we pretended to go along with this and then sabotaged him?”

“Now, hold on a minute. Even if we are being used right now, I’m not sure I really mind it. If the reforms we’ve been hoping for all this time are finally implemented, isn’t that a good thing, regardless of whose name it’s done in?”

“Well, that’s true, but …”

“Viewed another way, there’s also a sense in which we’re using Marquis von Lohengramm. We may have ideals and policies, but we don’t have the authority and military force to implement them. Marquis von Lohengramm does. At the very least, he’d be vastly better than a reactionary leader like Duke von Braunschweig. Am I wrong, Karl?”

“No, you’re definitely correct about that. It’s clear that if Duke von Braunschweig and his ilk get the reins of power, they’ll take the government and society in a reactionary direction.”

Richter gave Bracke a pat on the shoulder.

“In short, we and Marquis von Lohengramm need each other. With that understanding, we should cooperate when we’re able to and do whatever we can to steer society in a better direction, no matter how small the effect may be.”

Bracke tilted his head at Richter’s words. “But once he gets his hands on absolute power, Marquis von Lohengramm won’t necessarily continue taking a civilized, enlightened attitude. There’s no guarantee he won’t turn into a despotic dictator overnight.”

Richter nodded slowly. “That’s exactly right. And it’s against that very day that we have to drive these reforms home now. We have to cultivate a citizenry equipped to criticize and resist starting on the day that Marquis von Lohengramm abandons his posture as a reformer.”

The need to organize their disparate military forces loomed over the heads of the nobles who had signed the Lippstadt Agreement. This was because a unified command headquarters, a unified strategy, and a unified leadership and supply system were going to be essential if they hoped to counter Reinhard’s genius.

In order of priority, the first thing to do was to decide on who would be the supreme commander of the combat units. The composition and positioning of those units would depend on his thinking and planning.

At first, Duke von Braunschweig intended to assume full command of combat operations himself, but Marquis von Littenheim argued that this chair should be filled by a professional tactician.

“We should make Admiral Merkatz the commander in chief. He has an excellent record, and he’s well respected. Besides, what kind of leader would go to the front lines in person?”

Although it was obvious that Marquis von Littenheim’s true intent was to stop Duke von Braunschweig from scoring any military accomplishments, the argument itself was sound as could be and thus could not be deflected.