Chapter eleven

Gorodnikov

 

Viola was astonished. The Governor’s human agent was standing in front of her with a small pile of mail papers.

‘How did you get so many for fifty elf rounds?’ she asked.

Dom considered weaving a tapestry of lies that would bemuse and befuddle his unwanted boss, but beyond spitefulness he really didn’t see the point. After his talk with Castanus, he’d been seeing things a little differently.

‘My gods-father sold them to me’ he admitted.

Dom handed the mail papers over. Viola counted them – there were six pure white sheets. A brown-haired woman, who Dom had seen in passing before, but to whom he hadn’t been introduced, got up from her chair and took the papers from the major.  She examined them very carefully.

‘Your gods-father?’ she said, suspiciously, in Visneorian but with a strong Ethian accent.

Dom looked straight at her. He’d been taught that it was rude to address someone before you had been introduced to them.

‘I’m Dominic - who are you?’

‘I’m Kath’ she said, clearly realising that she’d been discourteous, ‘I’m from Eth City’

She stuck her hand out for it to be shaken. As always in the east, this was a bit of an awkward moment. Dom had never met an Ethian citizen before. He stared down at the hand. It wasn’t that he didn’t know all about handshaking, it was just that he had always been told that it was a slightly vulgar custom. He shook it tentatively.

Viola stared at the two of them.  ‘Dr Fielding is my advisor on magical artefacts’ she explained, without thinking. Dom looked surprised.

‘Why do you need one of those?’

Kath laughed. ‘Good question’ she said.  

‘I have my reasons’ said Viola, slightly flustered, ‘they’re not so much immediately obvious as longer term’

Kath shot a look at Viola.

‘I’m passing through on my way back to Eth’ she explained to Dom, ‘I’m not really sure what the Deputy Governor is talking about’

‘Well…’ said Viola, trying to find a way to backtrack, ‘she has been my adviser in a … umm… voluntary capacity’

Kath turned to Dom.

‘That’s what you get’ she said, ‘if you promote provincial elves above their station – major delusions of grandeur’

Dom had no idea what to say to this; the context of the remark seemed to him entirely obscure. He simply stood there and waited. Viola also ignored the remark. There was a moment of total stillness, that could, perhaps, have lingered on awkwardly for some time, but then Lieutenant Potentilla entered the room. She didn’t knock.

‘What’s going on?’ she asked eagerly. Viola pointed to the mail papers. Potentilla’s smile broadened.

‘Great! Where did you get those?’

Viola pointed to Dom, slightly reluctantly. Potentilla’s smile was now at its maximum extent.

‘That’s amazing – how did you get all those papers, Dom?’

They all had the uncomfortable feeling for just a second that Potentilla was going to rush forward and give him a big celebratory hug. Fortunately this didn’t happen, as she made the first movements and then seemed to stop herself. Kath smiled softly – normally nothing would prevent Potentilla from embracing a total stranger if the whim took her.  Maybe this curious lad was a step too far.

‘His gods-father gave them to him, apparently’ explained Viola

 ‘You have a gods-father in Gorodnikov, then?’ said Potentilla

‘Yes, I do’ said Dom

‘Where does he live?’

‘In Psephos’

‘Isn’t that the smart bit of town?’

‘Yes, I suppose it is…’

Kath shook her head.

‘I wouldn’t recommend getting sucked into one of Tillie’s question and answer sessions’ she said, grinning, ‘they tend to be exceptionally thorough’

Potentilla stared at Kath, feeling the gibe, but without fully understanding it. Dom’s desire to be polite got the better of him.

‘I don’t mind at all’ he said, gallantly, ‘I have found talking to her to be delightful’

Viola and Kath sat at the desk and start using the mail paper; Dom was intent on watching what they were doing . This meant that they all missed Potentilla’s face lighting up like a sky into which a firework has suddenly exploded.

‘What are you going to use the papers for?’ asked Dom.

Viola and Kath looked up at him and the phrase ‘none of your business’ seemed to hover above their heads. Then Viola thought better of it.

‘We plan to use them to communicate with the Emperor’ she said, cautiously, almost as if her reply were a question.

‘Oh right’ said Dom. He stood where he was, thinking. A minute or two passed. Eventually Viola stood up and came towards him. She wondered if he were expecting a tip.

‘Did it cost more than fifty elfrounds?’ she asked

Dom looked surprised. He had thought the major had known this was a bargain. 

‘Well yes, but, my gods-father was happy to subsidise the cost’ he said, carefully.

‘Right, good’ said Viola, ‘that was very kind of him’

There was another brief pause.

 ‘Will there be anything else, Deputy Governor?’ asked Dom.

Viola shook her head, happy to be able to dismiss her unwanted assistant.  As Dom walked to the door, however, she felt a pang of conscience – she really needed to do the right thing.

‘Oh, by the way’ she said, ‘that was good work. It’s saved us a lot of money and time…’

Dom turned and smiled politely.

‘Glad to be of service’ he said, only mildly ironically, ‘I do hope that they are useful’

He walked out of the door and shut it carefully behind him.

 

***

Kath padded around while Viola was writing the letter to Hardacre, which was making Viola nervous. Kath had stayed when Viola had let Potentilla go home and it was clear that she had something to say. Viola could guess what it was.

She put off finishing the letter for as long as possible, wracking her brains for any additional details of her dream.  All she could remember were the tree and the snakes and the end. Finally, she sealed the letter and sent it off. The smell of sulphur filled the room very briefly.

Viola sealed up the little pot of squid ink and reluctantly looked up at her companion.

‘Well, if you have to go, then just go…’ she said, trying to hide most of her irritation and her upset, ‘there are plenty of merchants going north every day…’

Kath folded her arms.

‘I can’t go yet’ she said

‘What?’ asked Viola, surprised.

‘I can’t go…’ she repeated.

Viola was delighted but she was damned if she were going to show it. She got up from her chair and glared at her friend.

‘But why ever not? There’s nothing for you to do here, apparently, particularly as you’re clearly not happy with being part of my team…’

Kath shook her head and sighed.

‘It’s that bloody dream. I can’t go until we find out what it means, can I?’

‘Can’t you?’ said Viola, sourly, ‘why ever not?’

Kath pushed her hands palm down on to the desk.

‘Because something important is clearly going on and you don’t seem to really have worked that out. So, as usual you’ll need me to help you ’

Viola shrugged. She picked up a pencil and started to fiddle with it.

 ‘It was just another dream’

‘You know that isn’t true – it’s been obvious for some time that Quiena is sending you messages: the bell, the wall, the spheres and now these fire snakes…’

‘Ophia has…’ Viola muttered, softly correcting her.

Kath leant forward to look at her more closely.

‘Why do you call her Ophia?’ she asked, ‘that’s not her Visneorian name; only the old elves call her that... ’

Viola looked confused; she twisted the pencil round and round in her left hand. She seemed to be staring beyond Kath, as if trying to see words written on the wall behind.   

‘Because that’s what she said I should call her’

Kath grimaced.

‘In a dream, you mean?’

Viola put the point of the pencil against her forehead. It looked to Kath like she was trying to dig out an answer from her mind.

‘I suppose so…’

Kath was suddenly reminded of an old thought. There was something that she’d always wanted to ask her friend but there had never seemed to be the right moment for it.  

‘When this all began – back in Ortia’

‘Yes…’

‘You said that the mail paper from Laurence came to your house…’

Viola nodded, ‘and...?’

‘Was it addressed to the proconsul?’

‘Yes, of course…’

‘By name, I mean. Was it addressed to Marthian?’

‘No…’ Viola said, ‘I don’t think it was…’

Kath picked her way through the offcuts of memory that Viola was reluctantly providing.   

‘Do you know how mail papers work?’ she asked

Viola shrugged. ‘Not really’ 

‘They search for the aura of the addressee, and try to find the place where the signal of that aura is strongest. That’s usually where the person is, of course. Then it’s fairly easy to push something as light as a mail paper through into where the aura is. And because it doesn’t rely on traces you can send a letter to anyone, even if they cast no spells and you only know their title…’

‘What do you mean?’ said Viola, resuming her pencil twirling.

‘The mail paper thought that you were the proconsul…’ Kath explained

Viola laughed.

‘Don’t be ridiculous. It must just have been some error in positioning – Marthian had been to my house lots of times…’

‘Maybe, it was an error’ said Kath, ‘maybe not. Maybe it just looked for the highest ranking Ortian elf that it could find…’

‘Even if that were true’ said Viola, ‘what would it mean?’

‘I’m not sure – but I think we need to find out…and I think we should start with your most recent dream’

Kath leant over the desk and took the pencil from Viola’s hand. She placed it on the desk in front of her.

‘I want to try something’

Kath picked up a sheet of ordinary paper from a pile on a filing cabinet and placed it on the desk next to the pencil.

‘Close your eyes, Vee’

‘What?’

‘It’s an experiment – I promise it won’t hurt’

Viola closed her eyes. Kath could see, however, that she was still trying to peek.

‘That won’t do. Let me find something’

Kath scanned round the room for a suitable blindfold, eventually finding a scarf that Viola had discarded on a chair. It was light green, but substantial enough. After a few seconds of fiddling Viola was temporarily blind.

Kath returned the pencil to Viola’s hand and pushed the paper along the desk so that it was directly under her unseeing eyes. She manoeuvred Viola’s hand so that the pencil was in the middle of the paper. 

‘Draw what you saw’ Kath said, ‘draw the shapes that the trees made’

‘I can’t’ whispered Viola, ‘I can’t remember’

‘Don’t try to remember’ commanded Kath, ‘just draw’

Viola hesitated for a moment and then she drew two shapes on the paper. Even though the second shape ran off over the paper, Kath knew exactly what they were.  She wanted to shout out, but she knew she had to keep quiet for just a bit longer.

‘Now show me where the snakes were’ she said, very quietly.

Without hesitation, Viola drew nine crosses on the paper.

‘Right’ said, Kath, taking off the blindfold, ‘take a look’

Viola stared down at the paper. She had drawn an almost perfect map of the two main continents of Skiophos, and the crosses clearly marked positions – five on the western continent and four on the eastern.

‘I see’ said Viola, hardly able to believe her eyes.

‘Obvious really’ said Kath, smiling. Here eye were bright with anticipation. She ran her finger along the map until she came to the cross that was clearly closest to Gorodnikov.

‘Let’s find out where that is’ she said, ‘and then… let’s go and see what’s there’  

Chapter twelve

Ortia

 

Aurelian had been grumpy for several weeks, and no-one was really surprised. He had taken to waking up very late and then working on deep into the night. He still fulfilled his duties punctiliously – organising training, patrols and strategic planning – but his heart wasn’t in it. Everyone knew exactly where his heart really was, of course, it was about two-hundred-and-fifty miles north across some rather high mountains.

Gaius, his aide-de-camp, had scarcely spoken to him since Marthian had left, generally just leaving him little notes and receiving curt scribbles in reply.  However, today he had an important message to pass on and he had to make sure that it was delivered verbally. He dreaded the conversation.

He waited until midday as he knew by then that the general would be up and in his office. He’d also left him a note warning that he’d have to talk to him at that time.

He knocked twice and prepared to wait for however long was necessary. Eventually he heard a noise from inside. 

‘Who is it?’ bellowed Aurelian, through the door.

‘It is I, sir – Lieutenant Gaius. May I enter?’

Aurelian pulled back the door violently. Gaius was half expecting him to be unshaven and bleary, but, no, he seemed just as before except for his eyes: they looked dull and empty.

‘What do you want?’ asked Aurelian, reluctantly gesturing for him to come in.

Gaius shuffled in with the minimum of fuss.

‘The proconsul has asked me to set up an appointment for you, with him, for later this afternoon’

Aurelian grimaced.

‘Why didn’t he just send me a note, like he usually does?’

‘Because he is concerned that sometimes you fail to get the note, sir, apparently… so he sent me to make sure that you knew that you would be meeting at three…’

Aurelian rolled his eyes.

‘Can’t you give him an excuse? He’s the last person that I want to speak to’

‘Nonetheless, sir…’ Gaius said, frowning.

Gaius hesitated – he knew that this was a pointless conversation and, in any case, it wasn’t really what he wanted to talk about.

Aurelian continued to scowl.

‘Was that it, lieutenant? Was there anything else…?’

‘Actually, sir…’ said Gaius, screwing up all of his courage.

Aurelian looked exasperated.

‘Permission to speak freely, sir’ Gaius asked, as firmly as he could manage. This was a very difficult thing for him to do.

Aurelian nodded warily.

‘Why didn’t you go with her?’

Aurelian looked extremely angry for a moment and then his mood broke. He smiled, a little crookedly.

‘I don’t know Lieutenant – someone had to stay… we can’t all abandon our poor old wounded city ’

 ‘The proconsul didn’t abandon anything, sir – she was forced out…’

‘Yes, I know. But in the end she went willingly and she commanded me to stay…’

Gaius swallowed hard. None of this was any of his business.

‘Commanded you, sir? Surely not! She was no longer proconsul…’

Aurelian’s eyes flashed the most withering look in the world at his poor aide. Gaius realised with a jolt how stupid he’d been. There was more power in the world than just the political, and more commands than those given by superiors. Everyone who had ever been in love knew this.

‘Maybe she will change her mind…’ said Gaius, feebly

‘And maybe I won’t’ responded Aurelian.

He gestured to the door. This was one conversation he had no intention of continuing.  Gaius reversed out, chastened. At least he’d tried.

 

***

‘Have you come to tender your resignation again, general?’ asked Antonius, looking up from Marthian’s faded leather chair. 

‘No, sir’ said Aurelian, stiffly, ‘you made it clear that that would never be accepted…’

‘Absolutely’ said the proconsul, ‘you’re invaluable’

‘Thank you, sir’ whispered Aurelian.

Antonius looked down at a list in front of him on the desk.

‘How can I be of assistance, sir?’ asked Aurelian, very formally

‘Well – everything seems to be in order, but I do have two vexing minor problems, which I thought you might be able to help me with…’

Aurelian waited. A naturally fairly taciturn man, he found that brevity was a useful weapon against this loquacious upstart. 

‘My first problem is - the High Priestess is refusing to meet me…’

‘Why is that, sir?’

The proconsul looked up again for a moment.

‘She won’t tell me…’ he murmured, ‘that’s why I need you to go and see her and find out what is wrong with her’

Aurelian couldn’t disguise his shrug. 

‘Why do you think that she will be willing to see me, sir?’

The proconsul scribbled something on his list. He forced himself to look up again.

‘I don’t, general, but you’re the most senior city representative that I have, and I know that you have had dealings with her before’

This was not true at all, not with this high priestess, but Aurelian didn’t feel inclined to point that out.

‘Very well, sir’ he said, his reluctance well hidden.  He waited once again.  Antonius stared down at a heavily ringed item on his list.

‘As for the second problem’ he sighed, ‘what do you suggest I do about Prince Erik?’

‘He’s still here, then? ’ said Aurelian, with grim satisfaction.

‘Yes – the King doesn’t seem to want him back. All I get are letters thanking me for looking after him. I really don’t want to have to look after him, you know…’

Aurelian smiled mock-sympathetically.

‘I’m not in a position to help, sir, unless you would like me to get some of my troops to take him back forcibly to Breggen. It could be easily arranged…’

Antonius looked extraordinarily shocked.

‘No’ he spluttered, ‘please don’t ever say that again’

Aurelian pretended to look puzzled.

‘Formor is no match for the new grand Imperial army, sir, surely? Isn’t that what really matters?’

‘That’s not the point… We really don’t want to provoke anyone…I must say that you easterners seem rather a hasty, bloodthirsty lot…’

Antonius wagged his finger at his general.

‘So, leave those political decisions to me’

‘So’ said Aurelian, trying a different, equally enjoyable, tack, ‘would you like me to take him away and lock him up in the dungeons here, then, sir? If he’s getting in the way’

Antonius shook his head so violently that Aurelian was sure that he heard his neck creak.  

‘No, just leave him there – he’s not really doing any harm’

‘If you insist, sir…’

Antonius titled his head. His look was archetypally patrician.

‘I must say I am rather disappointed in your response. I was looking for something more subtly political… Perhaps I have somewhat overestimated the…umm… range of your abilities…’

Aurelian’s face remained completely impassive. This was a point that he was happy to concede.

 ‘Undoubtedly you have, sir’

 ‘Oh well’ said Antonius, his interest in the conversation clearly waning, ‘Carry on, general…’

‘Certainly, sir’

Aurelian bowed, turned back towards the exit and smiled a grim smile – keeping Erik safely in Marthian’s garden was the only sure way that he knew of to keep it from being destroyed. The present incumbent was eyeing it up to create a ‘more useful’ space. Almost certainly that would require statues. Westerners seemed to really like statues, while Marthian liked flowers and birds and insects.  The general felt a lump in his throat – it seemed to happen all the time these days – he was finding it extremely wearisome to be so sad all of the time.

The Proconsul returned to his list. 

 

***

Aurelian only went to the temple complex on holy days – once a year for the summer celebration and once a year for the winter dirge. Since he had been commander-in-chief he had often found ways to get out of even those, semi-obligatory attendances, as there were always field campaigns to undertake, which could be made to coincide with compulsory temple-going.

When Julia had been high priestess he had spoken to her fairly often out and about in the city, but since her death he had only seen the new high priestess twice, once at her inaugural blessing, when the city had celebrated her new position, and once at the winter prayers. He had also heard a lot about her from Marthian, but the old proconsul had clearly not known what to make of her.

The general went and sat close to where he knew Marthian used to wait for the high priestess. He knew, like her, that he couldn’t just walk up to the entrance to the complex and knock. One had to be more subtle that that. Sadly, Aurelian didn’t feel very subtle, however, and was happy to sit for a while and then report to Antonius that he had at least tried.

He had been sitting for less than a minute, uncomfortable, in the play of light and water that had entranced Marthian so much, when Aquilegia appeared, as if from nowhere. She also seemed to be made of nothing except light and air. 

‘General Aurelian’ she said, ‘I am pleased to see you’

Aurelian struggled up, awkwardly. He bowed, very formally.

‘High priestess’ he said, ‘I am honoured by your presence’

Aquilegia smiled; she seemed almost embarrassed by his fulsomeness. She gestured for him to sit back down on the bench. She sat beside him, far enough away that she could turn to talk to him comfortably.

‘I am glad that you have come’ she said

Aurelian looked at her intently.

‘Why is that, high priestess?’

‘Because the Lady is displeased…’

‘I am very sorry to hear that…’

‘The Emperor has made a dreadful mistake and it must be rectified immediately’

 ‘In what way do you mean?’

‘He has forced the proconsul to go away…’ said Aquilegia, with a vehement look in her eyes. Aurelian was shocked at their intensity. He chose his next words very carefully.

‘Marthian is no longer the proconsul’ he explained, ‘the Emperor exercised his Imperial right to remove her from her post and replace her with another’

Aquilegia shook her head and breathed in sharply.

‘His is only a temporal right; he has no spiritual say in the dominion of Ortia’

Aurelian had never heard this line of reasoning before and he had no idea what it really meant. However, he knew what it implied – that the Lady still believed that Marthian was proconsul of Ortia.

‘I see’ was all that he could bring himself to say.

‘The Lady expressly forbids Marthian’s removal’

‘Good’ murmured Aurelian, completely without thinking.

Aquilegia rose and placed her hand on the top of the general’s head. A charge, like a sudden warm breeze, spread through him. Briefly, he felt very much better.

‘You must tell the Emperor’s representative here – Senator Antonius – that Marthian must be reinstated. Without her the city may well fall…’

Aurelian started.

‘Fall…?’ he said, ‘are we under threat again?’

Aquilegia looked back over her shoulder towards the complex. She shivered slightly in the warm May air.

‘Always’ she said, ‘there is always grave danger from the east…’

Aurelian swallowed hard.

‘I will tell him’ he said, ‘but I am sure that he will not listen’

Aquilegia shook her head. It was clear that the high priestess was preparing to leave.

‘Then there will be serious consequences’ she said, ‘the Lady will not allow this to go unchallenged’

‘I will tell Antonius that, too…’ he said, knowing that that would be an easy message to pass on.

The high priestess faltered a little, and her voice was more hushed.

‘She is a fine proconsul, general’ she said, ‘and I can understand why you love her so…’

Aurelian had no time to answer this, before she had gone again, but part of him was pleased that that she had left so quickly. What on earth could he have said in response?