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?