Free A Conflict of Orders (An Age of Discord Novel Book 2) by Ian Sales Page A

Sanduk backed away, climbing the steps behind him, drawing the duke towards the building’s entrance. Pulled forward by the officer’s retreat, Ahasz followed him into the Exchequer. There, Sanduk turned about and led the way at a smart pace across the echoing lobby towards the gaping archways of four lift-shafts.
    Unlike many nobles of his acquaintance, Ahasz had never worked within the civil or regnal governments. He held no sinecures nor directorships; he needed no patronage nor favours. The Vonshuan family had been among the first rank in wealth and influence for thousands of years. Family history claimed that Edkar I could not have formed his Empire some 1,200 years ago if the Vonshuans had not chosen to support him.
    What few visits Ahasz had previously made to the Exchequer were to visit noble friends who held offices there. But he was not ignorant of the institution’s operations. The Exchequer managed the finances of the regnal government, of those offices, bureaux and agencies which were the responsibility of the Imperial Throne and not the Electorate. It administered the funds diverted from taxes as the Emperor’s Allocation; it supervised the collection and spending of Tithe.
    Given the monies which flowed through the Exchequer, the lobby was surprisingly austere. The floor boasted a mosaic of the Imperial device, a “star” of five armoured gauntlets, each holding a different item and symbolising the five institutions which contributed to Imperial stability: a crown for the Imperial Throne, a grain-sack for the Order of Replenishers, a sword for the Imperial Regiments, a sextant for the Imperial Navy, and a quill for the Electorate. Great pillars to left and right, fashioned of the same pale stone as the walls, floor the building’s façade, stretched three storeys to a flat and unadorned ceiling. The atmosphere was heavy with the weight of the financial burden handled by the Exchequer. Ahasz had always found it oppressive.
    The two stepped into a lift-shaft, and a shelf appeared beneath their feet. Ahasz expected to descend since the vaults were below. Regimental-Lieutenant Sanduk and his platoon had been charged with seizing them—and the Exchequer’s Accounting Mechanism. Control a man’s purse-strings, Ahasz knew, and his destiny was forfeit. Sanduk, however, passed a boot across a number by his feet and the shelf began to rise.
    The lift drew to a halt on the third floor. The duke followed Sanduk into a foyer. To left and right, a gleaming white corridor stretched to the limits of the building. On these corridors were many doors, the size and design of which indicated the importance of the offices behind them.
    The regimental-lieutenant led Ahasz at a smart clip along the corridor to the right. Some halfway along its length, Sanduk pushed open a narrow door of plain wood, revealing a large chamber containing five rows of five desks apiece, all facing a larger desk raised above them on a dais. The room was not empty.
    At four of the desks in the first row, clerks bent to consoles built into the desk-tops. They ignored the duke’s entrance. He saw, standing at a dark window and limned by the glow from the spotlights outside, a pear-shaped woman in a loose-fitting plum-coloured dress. Ahasz knew her: Sofia demar Druzh, the head of his spy corps.
    He smiled. He had wondered when she would make an appearance. Her intelligence had fed this campaign, a diet without which it would not have lived. He crossed to her and she turned to watch his approach.
    Taken individually, Druzh’s features were not unattractive: liquid brown eyes, a straight and well-formed nose, wide plump-lipped mouth… but together on a wide-browed, square-jawed face, their arrangement was less pleasing. The effect was heightened by white-blonde hair in an ear-length bob.
    “So,” Ahasz said. “Sofia. I had not expected to find you here.”
    She nodded. “Your grace, I needed to confirm a persistent rumour I had heard. I’d