Choosing the Land

"Well then, before we return to discussing this... telegraph of yours," King Edward said, resting a hand on the edge of his desk, "there remains the promise I made you."

He turned toward the Prime Minister.

"Ashford."

The older man immediately understood.

Without another word, he crossed the room to one of the bookshelves and withdrew a large leather tube. Returning to the desk, he carefully untied its leather straps before unrolling an enormous map across the polished oak surface.

The parchment spread nearly from one end of the desk to the other.

It was far more detailed than the maps Ernest had seen hanging on the walls.

Every county.

Every major road.

Every navigable river.

Forests.

Mountain ranges.

Ports.

Mining districts.

Even noble estates had been carefully marked in different colors.

Lord Ashford placed several brass weights on the corners before looking toward Ernest.