Empress Caitilin Erlendsdottir Crovan
In Which Caitilin Has Already Married
(5 January 1699 – 6 January 1704)
“Well now, that was a delightful honeymoon tour of the Empire. It feels like I’ve been gone for years! So. What did I miss?”
“Hi, I’m Bill.”
“Yes, Bill. I remember…it hasn’t REALLY been years since I tolerated your presence, it just felt like it.”
“Well, Your Imperial Majesty, we’ve kept rather busy while you were away.”
“First off, as for the Army’s report, we extorted 2,500 pounds of gold from Songhai when they launched a rather misguided war against us.”
“I used that money to buy more ships! We’ve got the best Navy in the world now with 30 War Galleons, 60 Galleons, 80 Caravels and 12 Carracks. We’ve also got some 50 Frigates and Brigs.”
“Hold up. Did you say 12 Carracks? Didn’t those become obsolete several hundred years ago? How do you even keep them floating?”
“Well really they’ve been refitted and repaired so often that none of them are physically more than 8 years old. In fact, the ones in the Sino Fleet are probably newer than most of our Galleons.”
Caitilin sighed. “Couldn’t that money and timber be spent building new, advanced Ships of the Line rather than maintaining these horribly dated ships?
“Well, I mean, I suppose.” Kolbein was utterly confounded. “But it is tradition to keep them. I mean, the Royal Crovan was technically in service from 1453 until it sank in a storm in 1688. I mean, that’s more than 200 years!”
“Would a modern War Galleon have sunk in that storm?”
“Of course not, but that’s beside the point isn’t it? We’re talking about Carracks and everyone knows they sink like stones in inclement weather.”
Caitilin opened her mouth to speak and then froze before emitting a sigh. “Of course. Nevermind.”
She turned. “So, Mother Shipton. Any new poems for us?”
“In Seventeen Hundred and Aught Four,
Bohemia will seek once more to roar.
Then Great Wars shall be planned,
And Fire shall sweep ‘oer the land.”
“Mmm. Such sage wisdom from the Assistant Laureate. Waldemar, what plans will your office come up with to counter this threat?”
“Well, my Bohemian Plans, as I was telling Mother Shipton right before this meeting, involve attacking them next year as they’ve gotten too big for their britches lately.” He shot a glare at the Poet who gave him a smug, if toothless grin.
“Now, now Waldemar, no need for petty envy here. The Prophetess supports us all and there is no shame in your office getting a little help every now and again.”
“Of course, Your Imperial Majesty,” Waldemar muttered through gritted teeth.
“Well well, Waldemar, sounds like you might need my office’s services!” The violent sociopath’s face brightened.
Well, well. The AuthAAR returns after a two year hiatus and for what? Will he ever find his groove or will this turn out to be a terrible idea? Find out on the next exciting episode of
