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March 28, 1941

I was wide awake as I lay on top of the tank and waited for Miss Caldwell to go about her business. I wasn't willing to bet my life on the idea that Parisee was so thoroughly cowed that nobody was going to take a shot at me. All it would take was one fanatic or government assassin to do the job, were I truly to indulge in a nap. Even I couldn't keep a defensive shell up in my sleep.

Not that I would have been able to sleep well, even if I'd been tucked into a secure bunker. For one thing, I couldn't help but dwell on the mistakes I'd made in front of Miss Caldwell in my sleep-deprived state. I could only hope that I'd managed to buy some favorable press coverage from her with my own blatant favoritism. The other, more substantial, worry that kept me wide awake was the precarious military situation.

This entire military gambit rested on projecting an appearance of strength and invincibility. Driving tanks and armored personnel carriers down the Champs-Élysées, my overly confident radio appearance, even pretending to take a nap, these all were aimed at creating the impression that our armies were unstoppable and the Francois Republic's defeat was only a matter of time. In essence, I aimed to create a self-fulfilling prophecy in the hearts and minds of the Frankish public.

The actual situation was rather precarious. Well, it was true that the Frankish military effort was in a shambles. We had hardly faced any resistance on our run to Parisee. The problem was that our own invulnerability was more image than fact. If the people of Parisee rose up behind a charismatic leader, determined to root us out at all costs, we'd have a very ugly urban battle on our hands. We only had so much ammunition with us, and the drive out here had pushed all of our armored vehicles to the edge. We'd had to leave four APCs and an even dozen tanks by the side of the road on the way in, and most of the rest would need thorough maintenance work to be fit for real battle. Even driving back out to meet up with friendly troops would be dicey.

Nothing a mob of Pariseeans could do would be able to pin me and my mage battalions in place, of course, but fleeing and hoping the men left behind could hold out until they were relieved would be terrible for our army's morale. Not to mention the shot in the arm it would give the Franks. The last thing I needed was for their spirits to be lifted to the point that they decided to fight tooth and nail for every inch of territory. We'd still win, eventually, but the Russy Federation would be given a free hand to ravage our eastern allies in the mean time.

Of course, if that worst case scenario should come to pass, it would make for an awful lot of dead Pariseeans. Something I wanted to avoid for the sake of our political image, but something the Pariseeans should want to avoid even more. It would take a charismatic leader indeed to rally people to march into near certain death. I didn't think de Lugo would be able to do it, not after the way the war had gone so far.

I hoped that my radio performance had convinced any young firebrands out there that they might as well stay home. Cynical and dishonest as I may have been in claiming that any resistance would be futile, I really did think that inaction was in their best interests. Throwing your life away was always an irrational act. Throwing your life away to help communists take over Europe was just sad.

My pretend nap could be considered a continuation of my efforts on the radio. I didn't exactly have the height to loom over a crowd and stare down any malcontents. By demonstrating that I was completely at ease, they should take away the impression that any action on their part would be futile. That impression should also extend to my own soldiers and help to keep them calm. It would be a disaster if somebody were to get spooked and start firing into a crowd of innocent civilians. The mob wouldn't need a charismatic leader to get them to charge the barricades if the other alternative was to be shot down where they stood.

I was less worried about the enemy army than I was about a potential enemy mob. For one thing, we'd destroyed most of the army. In addition, any military force that de Lugo could pull together would be loathe to initiate combat in their capital city. They would also be better able to weigh up the costs and benefits of fighting instead of simply lashing out on impulse. And, of course, since the army would not be able to drown us in numbers, our magical advantage would tilt any battle strongly in our favor.

I didn't fall asleep, but I may have half dozed off as I ran over in my mind all the things that could possibly go wrong. I didn't think I had let my defenses down. If I did, I got away with it, as I was broken from my reverie not by gunfire but by a report that President de Lugo was on the way.

I forced myself awake with a brief shot of magical adrenaline and sat up, letting my legs dangle over the side of the tank. Anna had done a nice job tidying up the square while I wasn't paying attention. The inside of the square was lined with soldiers standing at attention in front of the ring of armored vehicles.

Directly in front of me, about ten paces away, was a long table covered with a white tablecloth, likely requisitioned from a local restaurant. A small roped off media area had been set up level with the table, but far enough off to the side to be out of earshot. Miss Caldwell had made it back from her errands to stand among the gaggle of local reporters. Straight ahead past the table, a gap between armored vehicles showed directly onto the bridge across the Seine.

Somebody had even had the bright idea to park two tanks facing towards the bridge and then rotate their turrets so that they created an archway of sorts leading into the square. Through the improvised archway I could see a small group of formally dressed men crossing the bridge, escorted by a larger group of Germanian troops. I hopped down from the tank, straightened up my uniform, and stepped forward to face the oncoming party from behind the table.

They paused for a moment to discuss something among themselves at the entrance to the square. When they finished, a single man stepped out and approached me. As he drew closer, I recognized President de Lugo. He was decked out in his fancy dress uniform, ribbons fluttering in the breeze and medals shining in the sun. He even had a sword strapped to his side. I suddenly felt rather under dressed, even if the mere possession of the Type 99 left me better armed.

He stopped when he was a pace away from the table, eyes never leaving mine. A moment passed in silence as we sized each other up.

"I'm glad you've decided to do the sensible thing," I said. "Your military has no hope of victory, and can only delay your defeat at the cost of many lives."

"If the people of the nation rise up," he said through clenched jaw, "they can still throw out your invasion force."

I could understand his frustration. His attempt to win the war quickly had been turned back on him with a speed that would leave anybody stunned. I had little sympathy to spare, though, for somebody who had teamed up with communists in an attempt to conquer my country.

"If you insist," I said, raising an eyebrow, "we can resume hostilities on the understanding that all Frankish citizens are combatants."

He looked like he wanted to take me up on it for a minute, then seemed to deflate as he sighed. "What are your terms?"

This was the part of the war that the Empire had never quite gotten right. Or, to be fair, gotten to.

The most important thing for me to take away from this negotiation was a secure western flank. More specifically, it was to free up as many troops as I could for the rest of the war without leaving us vulnerable to another attack from the Francois Republic. So, I wanted to use as few soldiers as possible to keep our western border as secure as possible.

I'd be trying to achieve that goal within a few different sets of restraints. Most obviously, I needed to propose a treaty that de Lugo would accept. Less obvious but just as important, it needed to be a treaty that the Allied Kingdom would tolerate. Finally, it needed to be a treaty that would keep my voters happy. Not that they were going to vote me out while the war was going well, but I hardly wanted my successors to feel like we had some kind of unfinished business with the Francois Republic.

The Franks were in a bad spot, but we were far from being able to insist on an unconditional surrender. Doing so would be an open invitation for the Albish to stick their noses in, anyway. Fortunately, I'd had the time to come up with a reasonable set of terms.

"First, we'll be taking your stockpiles of precious and strategic materials," I said. "Oil, steel, gold, and so forth. That will satisfy your reparations obligation."

"A very straightforward calculation."

He didn't look happy, but he had to have expected at least this much. The final treaty would put forth some legalistic justification, but the bottom line was that they had invaded us and now we had the power to take their stuff, so we would. I intended to spare them from any ongoing reparations payments, not out of the goodness of my heart, but because I didn't want to be bothered with enforcing it. I also suspected that ongoing reparations would create ongoing resentment, while the indignity of a single grand theft would fade away in time.

"In addition," I said, thumbing through the papers on the table and pulling a world map to the top of the pile, "we'll be taking these."

I pulled a pen from my pocket and circled the islands off the southeastern coast of Africa, making sure that the circle extended most of the way to Antarctica and Australia.

"Malagasy and our islands in the southern Bharati ocean?" he asked.

He sounded puzzled. Understandably so. The island territories I had circled had seen their heyday back before the opening of the Suez Canal as stopping points for ships rounding Africa. Nowadays they were notably poor and notably far from anything important.

"Yes. I am aware that Frankish southeast Asia is more profitable, and that you also hold some of the old Imperial colonies," I said. "In truth, the only reason to take such territory is so that I can tell my people that we have seized so many square miles of land commanding so many square miles of sea. I believe colonies are a useless distraction at best, and a dangerous distraction at worst. If I must have them, I'd prefer they be on isolated islands."

Far be it from me to usurp the Frankish role in this world's version of the Vietnam war. In the modern world, colonies were quickly becoming more trouble than they were worth. By contrast, increasing national productivity increased national wealth without requiring the oppression of a bunch of resentful foreigners. I had less than zero interest in dealing myself in to the game of colonialism at this late date. Taking Malagasy could be puffed up to look impressive to the Germanian public while the government quietly worked to cut Malagasy loose as soon as possible.

As for the rest of the islands, perhaps we'd hold on to a nice vacation destination or two. Also, if General Ugar's project ever showed results, having possession of some small, uninhabited islands in the middle of nowhere would come in handy.

President de Lugo just shrugged. He didn't exactly look grateful that I was taking such useless territory off his hands, but at least he didn't try to talk me into taking anything else.

"The remaining terms are to be in force for the duration of the war," I said. "To begin with, your navy will be held in trust by a third party and your army will be placed under restrictions similar to what we suffered under the Treaty of Triano. In both cases, allowances will be made for material to be approved for use for colonial maintenance."

I intended that the Allied Kingdom be the one to hold on to the Frankish fleet. Initially that had been because taking it for ourselves risked putting us over our treaty allotment. That wasn't as much of a problem any more, but I still thought it best to avoid ruffling any Albish feathers. Cutting the Frankish army down to size, besides being a satisfying turnabout, also meant that any attempt to reopen the western front would be preceded by an extended period of rearmament.

"What's to be done with our existing military equipment?"

"Sell it, scrap it, I don't really care. So long as it's out of your hands," I said. "We'll be scrapping what we've captured."

The restrictions of the Treaty of Triano, oppressive as they had been, had at least allowed our army to start from scratch and build up a logistics situation that was merely challenging instead of outright ruinous. That would all go to hell if I tried to jam foreign made, incompatible equipment into the system. Maintaining a supply line into the Russy Federation was going to be difficult enough without inviting new problems.

"These restrictions expire at the end of the war?" he asked.

"If the communists win, it won't matter," I said, shrugging. "If we win, well, you're welcome to try your luck."

I felt that the Treaty of Triano had been ample demonstration of the problem with trying to keep a country's military artificially weak for all time. I also had the feeling that the Allied Kingdom would be more willing to tolerate harsh restrictions being placed on the Francois Republic if they came with an expiration date. Frankly, if we managed to beat the communists, I wasn't going to worry about the Franks rearming.

"In addition, Germanian troops will be given free transit of the Francois Republic and will man its internal fortifications," I continued. "The navy will be given basing rights in your Mediterranean ports."

President de Lugo nodded. As with the robbery of the government's resources, that much was to be expected of a defeated participant in a multi-party war.

I didn't want the manpower investment and ill-will that would be associated with a full occupation of the Francois Republic, but I needed to be able to nip any military ambitions they might have in the bud. Holding their internal fortifications should do the trick. As to the ports, in the unlikely event that we decided to challenge Ildoa at sea, having a base in the Mediterranean would be helpful. The ports on the Albish channel would only be useful in a war with the Allied Kingdom, and trying to make use of them would spark just such a war.

"Alsace-Lorraine will become an independent republic," I said. "At the end of hostilities they will vote on which of our nations to join, or whether to stay independent. The franchise will be restricted to current residents, and an independent commission will police the honesty of the vote."

He nodded again. He had to have known that the Francois Republic wasn't going to keep a firm grip on its gains from the last war, considering the situation. "Setting the region on fire will not have endeared them to your cause."

"I don't particularly care which way the question is settled," I said, "just that it is settled without recourse to the use of force."

I certainly wasn't going to shed any tears at losing the Francois Republic as a neighbor if Alsace-Lorraine voted to stay independent. If they voted to rejoin the Francois Republic, well, ce'st la vie. I had never intended to annex any territory to Germania by sheer force of arms. Losing an honest vote should also leave my successors too embarrassed to launch a war of conquest.

"The Francois Republic will allow Germanian firms and individuals to invest in local business as though they were local citizens," I continued. "Should you cease such treatment at the end of hostilities, you will compensate them accordingly."

For the first time, he looked upset. "You would make us a European colony?"

"They will be subject to your laws, just like any other business. Only discrimination will be prohibited," I said. "Remember, you will soon be facing a crisis of unemployment, while we will soon be suffering a shortage of manpower."

He seemed somewhat placated by the reassurance that I didn't intend any outright financial exploitation. I was a little insulted that he thought I would try such a thing, when engineering a win-win situation was so obvious and straightforward. Not to mention more profitable.

That's not to say I hadn't considered any kind of financial chicanery. The Francois Republic would be going off the gold standard, since we would be taking all of their gold. If they were still unwilling to go to a fiat currency, well, our central bank would be more than happy to loan them a stack of marks on generous terms if they agreed to peg the franc to the mark. I was saving that discussion for after the peace negotiations, though. No need to spoil the mood by reminding de Lugo of the knock on damage we were doing to his country's economy.

"The final requirement is that the Francois Republic shall remove all tariffs in relation to trade with the nations in the Central European Free Trade Agreement," I said. "Said nations will in turn remove their tariffs as against the Francois Republic. This will also apply to trade with Frankish colonies."

The MEF had begun as a simple means to tie together the former members of the Empire without doing anything that would get us invaded. It had since expanded to include Dacia and Legadonia. The Francois Republic would join the Legadonia Entente and Lothiern as non-OZEV members of the free trade pact.

"We shall be pressed into that scheme of yours," he said, sighing.

"Think of it as a trial membership," I said. "At the end of hostilities, you will be able to make an informed decision as to whether you would like to join on a more permanent basis."

I expected that being part of MEF would redound almost entirely to the benefit of the Francois Republic, as they and Lothiern would be the only members running an ordinary civilian economy. Germania would benefit in turn from the increase in European prosperity. I hoped that Frankish production of civilian goods would let us ease our rationing, at least a little. In the long run, of course, I expected that encouraging economic ties between our countries would make war a less appealing proposition.

"That's everything?" he asked.

I nodded. "Our diplomatic teams will have to hash out the precise wording, but an agreement in principle would be enough to pause our offensive. We will begin releasing prisoners of war once you turn over control of your internal fortifications."

While he had remained rather stoic as I dictated terms, he looked torn now that we had arrived at the moment of truth. To his credit, he didn't try to negotiate. My offer had been just about the bare minimum that would accomplish my aims. It was probably less than the bare minimum that the cabinet was expecting me to bring back to Berun. I would be relying on my own reputation to ensure that it was seen as the result of a cautious rather than craven approach to negotiation.

"Very well," de Lugo said, apparently having resolved his internal conflict.

He reached for the sword at his side. I braced myself, but a moment later my fears were put to rest as he unbuckled it, still in the scabbard, and held it out over the table with both hands. I took the sword from him then, not sure what to do, tucked it under my arm and shook his hand.

I glanced to the side, confirming that the reporters were capturing this moment for posterity. At least one of Elya's girls should have the whole thing recorded on a computation orb just in case, but the less overt manipulation of the media we needed to employ, the better.

I focused back on de Lugo to find him looking rather forlorn. Despite that, I couldn't help but feel some envy at his position. For him and for the Francois Republic, the war was over. For me and for Germania, it was just beginning.

ooOoo

March 29, 1941

Winston Churbull had wasted no time calling for a united national government when the war started. The Allied Kingdom wasn't in the war, not yet, but it was clear that they were facing a major turning point in history with grave implications for their future. Under the circumstances, a ruling coalition that included every major party would give the people of the Allied Kingdom assurance that every decision taken was carefully considered and made with only the best interests of the country in mind.

There had been some spirited debates over the matter, but no serious opposition. Churbull had put his war cabinet together quickly and called them in for their first full meeting just two weeks after the war started. He would have been more proud of the speedy progress of the whole thing if the Francois Republic hadn't already fallen by the time they met.

The first solid sign of trouble for the Franks had been that disastrous naval battle. The briefing that laid out in detail just how badly they'd been thrashed had soon been followed by reports that Degurechaff was delivering a radio address from Parisee, in person. It was the kind of thing that would have been dismissed out of hand as ludicrous propaganda when it came to any other national leader, but the standard of plausibility was rather flexible when it came to the Devil of the Rhine. Later that day had come reports of the Francois Republic's capitulation.

Churbull had in front of him a copy of the morning paper, detailing the terms of the surrender beneath a photograph of Degurechaff and de Lugo shaking hands. Sitting on top of the paper was a freshly delivered diplomatic note from the Germanian ambassador.

The note was a polite request that the Albish take possession of the Frankish fleet. "The newspaper reports were right, then."

Viscount Guysborough, his foreign secretary, nodded. "Yes. I didn't expect Degurechaff to be so eager to hand them over."

Guysborough was too polite to note that the fleet had hardly done the Franks much good. Churbull would have expected that Degurechaff would want to get her hands on every ship she could, but considering the performance of the Frankish navy in combat, he could understand her disdain for their warships.

"Was there any explanation along with the note?" Churbull asked. Not all diplomatic communication was written down.

"I was told that the Germanians wanted to keep their negotiated tonnage free for ships of their own design," Guysborough replied. "Although I can imagine the idea of casting us as the Franks' gaolers had its own appeal."

Churbull felt that he had the right of it. Germania had never built even close to the limits that they were permitted under the treaty. Degurechaff had also never passed up an opportunity to drive a wedge between the Allied Kingdom and the Francois Republic. Forcing the Franks to ask Albish permission to use their own fleet seemed like just the sort of thing she would enjoy. Churbull was half inclined to just turn the whole Frankish navy loose, if abandoning their role as a neutral third party wouldn't cause an even larger loss of face.

"At least they're still keeping to the treaty," Henry Watson observed. Watson, the leader of the opposition and currently Deputy Prime Minister, was generally inclined to look on the bright side when it came to Germania.

"The Germanian ambassador did express the desire to discuss the restriction on four engine bombers," Guysborough replied. "Considering their war with a foe the size of the Russy Federation."

Churbull was surprised that Germania was even bothering to ask. Nobody could seriously expect a nation at war to abide by treaty restrictions that could leave it vulnerable to annexation by a foreign power.

"We ought to be able to wring something out of them, if we're to give them that."

Well, almost nobody. Arledge Greenwoode, though he was the deputy leader of Watson's party, was adamant in his belief that another clash between the Allied Kingdom and Germania was inevitable, and that the government ought to do everything it could to ensure that the Allied Kingdom came out on top. Churbull agreed with him that the Allied Kingdom should prepare itself for war, but he didn't feel it was wise to put the boot to Germania at every possible opportunity.

"What will we take, the Kerguelens?" Churbull asked, before pushing the newspaper forward and tapping on a paragraph that he had circled earlier. "Here, this is what concerns me, far more than the composition of her air corps."

Viscount Guysborough was the first to puzzle out what was bothering him. "The proviso permitting Germanian investment in the Francois Republic? That struck me as a favor for Germania's industrial interests. They've backed Degurechaff from the start."

"After three or four years of Germanian money pouring in, after years of trade relationships building up in the absence of tariffs, can we really expect them to opt out of the MEF? And if they join, then what of our joint efforts to check Germania?" Churbull asked. "I worried before over which parts of the Francois Republic might be broken off during peace negotiations. Now, it's clear that Degurechaff intends to make a play for the entire nation."

"What would you have us do?" Greenwoode asked.

"We should at least consider what we might be able to do in order to bolster the Frankish economy," Churbull said. "Whether that is a matter of lowering trade barriers or simple direct aid, it's too early to say."

"Spending money on the Franks will be difficult when our own people are tightening their belts," Watson said. "It seems to me to be outside the scope of the war."

"Certainly, the matter should be brought to Parliament for debate," Churbull replied. "If Degurechaff is aiming to purchase the affections of the Francois Republic, we at least ought to put in a bid."

In the natural course of events, the embarrassing defeat that the Francois Republic had suffered should have left them chastened and more willing to listen to reason and align themselves with the Allied Kingdom, allowing more sensible heads to take the lead. Degurechaff obviously wasn't going to let that happen without a fight. Getting Parliament to agree to act when the danger was still far away would be difficult, but Churbull thought he owed it to the country to try to nip Degurechaff's plan in the bud, rather than letting trade ties blossom into friendship and even turn to military alliance.

"As to the rest of the war," Churbull continued, "while the performance of the Francois Republic was rather lackluster, we can at least be grateful that nobody has violated the borders of Lothiern. We are now safe from the dire scenario in which we would have been obligated to go to war with most of Europe."

When war had been declared, Churbull had spent a few sleepless nights worrying that the Russy Federation would invade Legadonia while the Germanians tried to march through Lothiern. The Allied Kingdom had already cost itself a great deal of credibility through inaction. It would have been a pity to have been forced to start his ministry by breaking yet another promise.

"With regard to the war," Nigel Chambry asked, "what exactly are we prepared to do?"

The former Prime Minister was the Lord President of the Council and the last member of the war ministry. He had been badly wounded by the loss of the nation's confidence that had led to his ouster from his previous position, and tended to stay quiet during their meetings. When he spoke, though, he usually said things that were worth listening to.

The easiest way for the Allied Kingdom to exercise influence on the progress of the war would have been by aiding the Francois Republic's war effort. Unfortunately, that option had been forestalled by Frankish distrust and was now closed thanks to Frankish ineptitude. The only tool left to them at the moment was a naval blockade.

The simple fact was that a naval blockade could not exercise decisive influence on the course of the war at the moment. Certainly, the Allied Kingdom could inflict a crippling blockade on Ildoa, but they couldn't do much to the Russy Federation. On the other side of the fight, a blockade on Germania could be maintained and would harm its economy, but the recent performance of the Germanian navy suggested it would be a bit more chancy than Churbull would like. And that was not even factoring in the likely response to the Unified States should Albion attempt to cut them off from a major trading partner so soon after Degurechaff had treated the Francois Republic with such a light hand.

"Our navy commands the sea and our army and air corps grow stronger by the day," Churbull said. "For the moment, though, I believe that prudence dictates that we remain on the sidelines and hope that both sides somehow lose."

Modern warfare was a ferocious drain on a nation's resources. While at the moment it looked like Germania and the Russy Federation were duking it out for the title of Europe's hegemon, there was every possibility that the eventual victor would find itself too exhausted to hold on to the spoils of its conquests. Especially with the Allied Kingdom rested and ready in the wings, prepared to intervene in order to protect the plucky upstarts of Europe from bullying by larger powers.

The war had not gone entirely as Churbull would have liked, but he still counted himself lucky that both Lothiern and Legadonia had stayed out of it. Churbull wasn't afraid of war, but he had no intention of plunging his nation into the fire unless he could be confident that he would achieve his aims. Some might call his behavior opportunistic and self-serving, but in seeking to keep communism out of Europe and curb Degurechaff's influence at the same time, he needed every advantage he could get.