Chapter fifty-six

On the way to Ortia

 

Titanius advanced slowly down the great west road.  He had with him twenty thousand troops, cavalry, infantry and archers; it was more than enough for a show of strength.  He had no clear idea, however, what the Emperor expected of him. All that he did know was that he was expected to take his time; but he was also well aware that Antonius was not stupid – he’d know if his preparations were too long delayed and if he dawdled.

The efficient nature of the imperial system was, for once, working against him, however. Years of reacting at human speeds, necessitated by fighting barbarian foes, had made mustering and provisioning a thing of alacritous elegance. And Pallatian’s grand plan had meant that the west road was now perfectly constructed:  it could take an army from Visnea to Ortia in less than five days. He just hoped that Pallatian would have sorted something out in that time.  He skulked in the rear-guard of the army and stayed clear of Antonius – this allowed him to avoid all awkward questions.

 

They encountered the first patrols a few hours away from the city. Their greetings were formal but friendly, and the Ortians explained that their commander had told them to follow orders given by the military hierarchy – they had been given no instructions relating to the incumbent proconsul. Titanius ordered the patrol back into the city to inform the dictator that they were on their way. He wrote a bald message to Aurelian to tell him to await his instructions in the morning. This would give everyone a breathing space.

Antonius rode up beside him as he watched the patrol gallop back towards the city. He had with him a young patrician elf, dressed in battle clothes emblazoned with the gens Gracii insignia, a red and orange lion rampant. Antonius was similarly dressed in his family colours, the white panther of the Neonoi family, allies of the Gracii. This was a small delegation from the rich and the powerful. 

‘Have you been avoiding me, general?’  asked Antonius, staring down Titanius’s line of sight at the disappearing soldiers. Titanius manoeuvred round on his horse so that he faced his visitors.

‘Of course not, my lord. I have been busy attending to military matters’

‘Well, I am pleased to hear that, for that is what I have come to advise you on’

The hairs on the back of Titanius’s neck prickled. He had to work very hard to respond with a civil tone.

‘Advise me, my lord?’

‘Yes, but first – let me introduce you to Captain Carolius, son of Coriolanus Gracius Neonius Chrysiensis, senate under-chancellor’

Titanius nodded politely – he was fairly certain that this was a distant cousin of his, but he could not remember meeting him before.  Perhaps he was just a name in a genealogical table? He had many relatives among the senators, which had been something that had hastened his advancement through the commissioned ranks. He couldn’t be expected to remember them all.    

Carolius saluted briskly. His voice dripped with patrician hauteur.

‘At your command, sir!’ he barked

Antonius didn’t give Titanius a chance to say anything in reply to this. He pressed on with his prepared speech.

‘I have appointed Carolius as my liaison officer and as my commander-in-chief designate in Ortia’

Titanius wasn’t particularly surprised by this, There was a minority faction in the army that was very favourable to the senate rather than the Emperor. He assumed that Antonius had called in some political favours to get that faction on his side. Antonius continued.

‘Our plan – which must meet with your approval, of course – is to surround the city and then demand that the traitor surrenders himself to us’

Titanius swallowed hard. He shouldn’t have been surprised by this either, but he was.

‘Traitor, my lord? Who do you mean?’

Antonius eyes darted up to Titanius’s. The anger that was always just below the surface of the senator’s eyes came bubbling up.

‘Aurelian – the usurper, who else? You knew who I meant, general’.

Titanius was struggling. Not for the first time he cursed his beloved’s inadequate orders.

 ‘Traitor and usurper…’ he said slowly, ‘those are rather extreme charges, aren’t they?’

Antonius and Carolius shook their head as one. The master had clearly taught his pet dog how to copy him.

‘I speak merely the unvarnished truth’ said Antonius, ‘you know the facts – he has conspired with the local cult to arrogate my position’

Titanius couldn’t let this stand uncontested. He frowned; to say anything was undoubtedly a mistake, but he couldn’t help himself. 

‘I think that is debatable, my lord. I think that your disagreement is with the Lady of Ortia, not with the commander-in-chief of its army. General Aurelian has acted with circumspection throughout’

Antonius slapped his gloved hand against his thigh. His eyes blazed.

‘Nonsense’ he exclaimed, ‘he has acted despicably. From the moment he met me he despised me and was intent on getting his lover back into the proconsular palace. I don’t know how he did it, but he poisoned the goddess’s mind against me’

Carolius murmured his assent, doing a passable impression of a small mob of supporters. Titanius held his tongue, fearful that anything he might say would only make matters worse.

‘So, as I was saying – do you agree to encircle the city and then arrest Aurelian?’

Titanius could feel the prickle at his neck turn into sweat. He began to feel uncomfortable in his uniform. He adjusted his collar.

‘I do not have the authority to arrest General Aurelian’

Antonius laughed without humour, ‘of course you do – you’re his commanding officer. Court martial him for seditious insubordination’

‘I did not appoint him – he was appointed by the Emperor’

Antonius shook his head confidently.

‘The commander-in-chief of a proconsular province is in the proconsular gift. The Emperor merely has a veto. I accepted Aurelian as general out of respect to the Emperor. I would never had chosen him’

‘So’ responded Titanius, ‘have you cleared Captain Carolius here with the Emperor? Has he agreed to the appointment?’

Antonius sneered as he spoke. ‘He will – he owes me several favours’

Anger flared up inside Titanius.

‘Well, I think that it’s out of both of our hands now – the Lady has designated Aurelian as Dictator. Only the Emperor might possibly countermand that decision’

Antonius harrumphed, Carolius snorted. Titanius forced himself not to laugh.

‘Nonsense’ said the senator, ‘she has no official status. She has no business appointing dictators! It’s an extraordinary breach of political etiquette’

Titanius smiled thinly. He took up the reins of his horse, preparing to go.

‘I suggest that you talk directly to the Lady about that, my lord; I am not in a position to make any comments concerning the actions of emperors and goddesses’. He knew he should stop at that, but he couldn’t resist adding, ‘you know the way back to Visnea now, don’t you?’

The two aristocrats shared a look that suggested that from now on Titanius might be best advised to post a loyal guard outside his tent at night. His heart sank; things could only get worse from here. He made to turn his horse and ride of back to the main body of his army, but Antonius wasn’t going to let him off that easily. He framed his question as if it were a reprimand.

‘So, are you planning to do nothing, General?’

Titanius waited a moment. 

’I will surround the city and talk to the General. I can do no more’

He rode off before there could be any further debate.  A central problem remained, however. What on earth was he going to say?

Chapter fifty-seven

Klethropolis

 

There wasn’t much fighting in the end. Potentilla had spotted the panthers inside the city walls. That had been a shock but she recovered quickly enough. She notched an arrow in her bow and fired straight at one that was wandering in her general direction. The shot bounced off the Outer Void creature’s head, but it showed no sign of noticing either the arrow or the elf.   

Akenopteryx flew to her side. She cocked her head at the panther. She spoke as simply as she could in Archaic Elven.

‘I have seen five isomorphic creatures; thou followest me now?’

The elf got at least the gist of this and so she clambered down from her look-out tree. The panther was just below them but it seemed to be completely uninterested in them, tilting its strange face from side to side, as if trying to sense something in the air. Potentilla took a few additional steps towards it. It still seemed unconcerned by her presence. She drew her sword out and poked it, as if she were coaxing the embers in a fire. Its surface was as hard as diamond but it failed to react in any way. Under the grey-black outer membrane there seemed to be a trapped sky, full of blue clouds. The lieutenant backed away from the panther, her instincts for once telling her that this was a being that she shouldn’t stand and fight. She remembered with a shudder what had happened to Al-Ham, who had died fighting a winged creature apparently of a similar kind to this one.   

Hapalonyx fluttered down on to a branch close to Akenopteryx. ‘Come and see this’ she whispered.

The two other parrots and the elf left the panther wandering and followed Hapalonyx back to where she had been patrolling. They didn’t have far to go. About two hundred yards along the wall they found another group of panthers; this time they were pacing around something. It was the body of a woman, dressed in brown. It was clear that she had fallen from the wall – when they looked up they could see a small tree that was half ripped from its growing place on top of the battlements.  Akenopteryx examined her carefully, getting as close as she could without being in the direct path of the panthers.

‘She must have died falling from the wall’ she said

Hapalonyx nodded her agreement. Potentilla shook her head. The lack of a shared language hadn’t been a problem up to now, but this was the first time that Viola had not been present to translate.

‘Go findest the others’ Akenopteryx said very slowly in the only language that she knew. Potentilla looked blank. The parrot flapped her wings and shooed the lieutenant off in the direction of the White Temple. She hesitated for a second and then ran off. The two remaining parrots found a spot high on the wall and waited, watching the movements of the panthers with two pairs of bright eyes.     

 

The other party members had advanced with considerable trepidation down the streets that led back to the gate. Viola had heard Potentilla coming from several streets away, but she had no idea who it was, so they had hidden behind a silo. They were delighted to see her.

‘Report, lieutenant’ hissed Viola

Potentilla explained, in vivid, if cursory, detail, what had happened. When he heard of the fate of the dead woman, Dom let out a cry.

‘That’s my fault!’ he said, ‘I killed her’

Potentilla wrinkled up her nose. Her voice was hushed with awe.

‘You really are an amazing mage, Dom. How did you zap her from so far away?’

Dom made a lemon juice face and shook his head wearily, but Potentilla had already turned away back towards the wall.

‘I didn’t’ he explained, ‘I think that the teleport pebble must have ended up stuck in a tree, and she must have fallen from the wall when she teleported to it’

Viola frowned. ‘Why didn’t you mention that to me before, about the pebble?’

Dom shrugged, he could think of no valid defence. Viola glared at him. This didn’t worry him much; his main concern was that he had killed someone – not directly and not intentionally, but for the first time he had caused someone to lose their life.  Hardacre sensed something in Dom’s discomfort and answered for him.

‘It’s too late to do anything about it now,’ he said calmly ‘and it seems like our mage’s mistake may have been to our advantage. Let’s go and see’

They proceeded with care, skirting round buildings and sending Psithuros forward to check that the way was clear. They had been reassured by Potentilla’s account of events near the gate but none of them were keen to see the panthers again.

Akenopteryx meet them about halfway from the temple. She landed on Viola’s shoulder and explained, with an exemplary attention to detail (that put Potentilla’s earlier report to shame), exactly what had happened. 

Twenty paces further on they saw their first panther. It was walking away from them, or more accurately gliding from them, it had legs but it didn’t seem to use them.  Fortunately, it was taking no notice of them at all. Hardacre sighed, very softly

‘I have seen creatures of this kind before’ he said, ‘they are made from part of the Outer Void captured and sealed in by necromancy. They are deadly foes, but they require someone to control them. As they are now they are no more dangerous than an un-toppled boulder’

‘Are they like the rays that attacked Ortia?’ asked Viola. She had heard detailed accounts of them, but she had never seen one herself.

‘Yes – Kratos seems to like to fashion them into approximate zoological forms. In Huatlacan they were like giant insects. These seem more sophisticated but less powerful’

‘Can they be defeated?’ asked Kath. She had been staring at the panther, mesmerised by the shadow puppetry of blue light under its rippling skin.

Hardacre permitted himself a small smile. He put a hand into his top cloak pocket and pulled out a small envelope.  Dom’s eyes widened.

‘Are those sunflower seeds?’ he asked

Hardacre nearly dropped the envelope, but his exquisite powers of recovery meant that no-one else noticed. He couldn’t, however, quite squeeze all of the surprise out of his voice.

‘How did you know that, Master Shavosky? Is your magecraft more advanced than you have admitted?’

Dom laughed, with a hint of nerves. It was time to reveal something that he now wished he’d told them earlier.  

‘It’s not my magecraft,’ he said, ‘I guessed because Princess Lily told me all about it’

Hardacre smiled. This now made perfect sense.

‘We told her not to reveal what had happened to anyone’

 Viola intervened, ‘well, I think then that it’s fortunate that Dominic is not just anyone, don’t you think Laurence? And perhaps now you could tell us exactly what is in that packet ’

Hardacre moved on from his mild irritation with Princess Lily; her actions hardly surprised him. He opened up his envelope and showed them a seed. Viola took it and studied it very closely.

‘And, exactly what use is that, Laurence?’

Hardacre nodded towards the panther. It had turned round and was moving towards them, but it was hard to tell if it had now become a threat. He took back the seed, tossed it into the air and started his incantations.

‘Gylch’- a bulb covered the seed as if in a filmy bubble.  It sat up in the air briefly, held up by spell energy. The end of the bulb narrowed to an excruciatingly thin point.

‘Brifio’ – the seed inside the bulb started to sprout.

‘Eheda’ – he pointed towards the panther and the bulb shot outwards, leaving a white streak behind it.

The bulb hit the panther on the front of its head. It was some way away so they couldn’t make out exactly what happened next, but then they saw an explosion of white, green and yellow. The panther lay still as the sunflower grew, in an instant, out of the top of its head, then the creature unravelled, like an orange peeled at breakneck speed. Little gusts of blue clouds sizzled briefly in the warm air and then faded away. Yellow petals littered the ground.

Dom put his hands together, as if to clap his appreciation. He stopped himself, however, abruptly when he saw the look of mild admonishment on Hardacre’s face. Clearly applause wasn’t something that he craved.   

‘Well, I’m pleased to see that that still works’ muttered Hardacre.

‘We all are’ whispered Kath

‘Kathleen’s spell must be harder to counter than we had feared’ he continued, mostly to himself.

Viola hurried over to where the panther had been destroyed. She knelt on the ground and picked up some of the petals.  She smiled up at Hardacre.

‘That evens things up quite a bit’ she said. Hardacre looked unconvinced.

‘Let’s hope so’ said Kath. They moved on towards the wall.

 

It was easy to find he dead woman by the wall: she was surrounded by the milling shapes of false panthers. Dom had to force himself to forget, for the time being, the chain of events that had led to her death.  He concentrated, instead, on studying her appearance closely. There wasn’t much about her that seemed remarkable, except that she clutched something in her left hand. Unfortunately they would be unable to find out what it was until the panthers had been dispelled.

 It took some time but Hardacre was able to destroy the remaining panthers easily using the sunflower seeds. It was a very tiring process, however, and Hardacre was staggering on his feet at the end of it. They now felt their lack of time acutely; the rest of their enemies must be close on their tail. 

Potentilla prised open the dead woman’s hand. Gripped inside it was a black onyx stone, just smaller than the size of her fist.  She had nothing else on her – no backpack, no weapons, no orders. This looked like it might have been planned as a possible suicide mission.

 Viola took the stone from her lieutenant with great care.  She looked at it briefly and then passed it on to Hardacre. He and Dom huddled over it for a few minutes murmuring incantations. Viola allowed this to continue for as long as she could bear.

‘So, what is it?’ she asked

Hardacre allowed Dom to speak for them both. 

‘A summoning stone’ he said, pointing to a red circular patch in the middle of the stone. ‘Press this and you summon a panther’

Hardacre nodded gravely and continued Dom’s report. 

‘We assume that the panthers are formed elsewhere and then summoned by this stone. It is, nonetheless, a very powerful item’

Kath would have loved to have inspected it, but it radiated danger very clearly. ‘We should destroy it’ she said.

‘Yes, we should’ agreed Viola. She gestured to Potentilla, ‘lieutenant…’ who drew her sword in an instant.

‘No, ‘ whispered Hardacre, ‘that’s too dangerous. If you disrupt it the stone may release a lot of destructive energy’

Potentilla sheathed her sword with a little sigh. Viola frowned at her two magical experts.

‘Can either of you destroy it?’  

They both shook their heads. Their growing aura of authority was temporarily punctured. Viola took the stone back.

‘Can they track us with it?’

‘Quite possibly, madam’

‘We can’t leave it here where they will find it again, so…’

Kath was looking up at the wall, at where the fatal tree had been partially pulled out from the wall-top walkway.  She waved up at the tree.

‘Tillie – can you get up there?’

Potentilla nodded without even looking up.

‘Well, then’ said Kath, ‘why don’t we find the teleport pebble and take it with the body out of the city and dump it in the woods somewhere. We can bury the summoning stone somewhere out there too…’

Hardacre’s thin lips twitched into a smile.

‘A good idea’ he said, ‘if executed rapidly. When they discover the body and the pebble they will assume that she, and perhaps even her panthers, was defeated outside the city. That should slow them down considerably…’

Viola thought about this for a second and then ordered Potentilla up on to the wall to find the pebble. The others started to move the body.  Hardacre rested against the side of a building – he had very little energy left. 

‘And then’ he murmured, ‘we must find your naga, Major. It may be our last chance’

Chapter fifty-eight

Just inside Nux

 

Once the hive meeting was over they sent their cleverest healers and scientists to examine the sleeping Celia. They had spun a silk hammock for her to sleep in and she hung in it now, betraying no sign of her recent ordeal. They hadn’t dared to prise Boo from her grasp – they were both in the deepest possible sleep – and so she lay against her chest. The insect-like creatures had no way of calculating when they might possibly wake up.

They buzzed around her touching her with their antennae and clicking in their strange stridulating language.  They tried loud noises, energy nectar and gentle blows to different parts of her body, but she showed no sign of waking.  They left Boo alone – they could sense the extraordinary density of thaums within her. Some of them suggested that she might be a sort of bomb.

Eventually, when they were completely stumped, and fear had begun to build up inside them, they made the decision to take their visitors to their humanoid trading partners, deep in the centre of Nux. They looked much more like her kind and perhaps they would know to do with her. Fear was one of their primary motivations – they had witnessed phenomena of a power that they had never seen before. They really didn’t want to see anything like that again. 

Two insectoids cut the cocoon with their sharp mandibles and they eased the sleeping pair into a very large basket, clearly woven in some green place a long way away. Then they picked the basket up and flew with it, slowly and gently, down the long, wide, tunnel that snaked its way away from the blue cloud world and into the night world. Behind and in front of them were torch bearers; the blue world was illuminated with a strange diffuse light, but Nux was not. They carried many spare torches and round spheres of nectar – they knew that it would be a long dark journey.  They clicked encouragement to each other; perhaps we would call it a travellers’ song.

Deep in her bruised sleep, Celia was desperate to wake but, although she struggled, she slept on and on.  Their little patch of light travelled on in the shadows; it was no more than a tiny spark floating through the roughhewn passageway.  Behind and in front of it there was a darkness that stretched on outwards indefinitely.  

Chapter fifty-nine

Jacantha Ogham’s Mansion, Daramee, Babalia

 

John blinked to a courtyard by a sundial, a very clearly magical sundial. The dial itself was normal but floating over it, at about head height, was a bright sphere that provided the light for the dial. It all seemed a bit redundant as the real sun overhead was tropical bright anyway.  For a moment he was dazzled but then he recovered himself and took a step back. A young woman was staring at him in wonder.

‘I thought only Jac could teleport’

John turned to look at her. She was naked – now his eyes had focused properly he could see that there was a large pool in the courtyard, and that clearly she had been swimming.  She was slim and dark. Her long hair was tied up.

‘No, not just she’ he said, ‘there are others like her; as you can see’

The woman picked up a large towel and draped it around herself. She seemed interested but not the slightest bit afraid. He could only suppose unexpected things were always happening here.

‘Have you come to see Jac?’ she asked, smiling welcomingly.

He nodded, wondering who this person was:  they had had no news for so long.  Grown-up daughter seemed a reasonable first guess.

She turned to look at the far end of the courtyard, where he could see an open door and shouted ‘darling!’, which seemed to answer his last question; this was clearly no daughter. For a moment he felt like running away, but then he imagined Gwyneth’s face once she knew that he had failed. This was his burden – whatever pain was coming next he had to face .

A tall, big boned, intensely black-haired woman walked through the door. At first she didn’t see John because the model sun was in the way. ‘What is it?’ she asked, squinting into the light. John took two steps to the left and revealed himself.

‘It’s me, Jac’ he said, ‘unfortunately…’

Jacantha stared at him for several seconds. Her frown was grim.

‘What the fuck are you doing here, Ismay? We had an agreement’

The shorter, younger, woman looked shocked. It didn’t appear to John as if this were a place where that word was employed very often. It seemed that he was intruding on tranquillity. He forced himself to speak.

 ‘We are in dreadful peril. We need your help’

Jacantha marched up to him, and for a second he feared that she was going to slap him. She laughed a hyena laugh.

‘I thought you loathed me – I thought that you all loathed me?’

He  examined his former friend more closely. She was twenty years older but in almost every respect exactly the same – her inner fire still burnt strong and subtle and he still didn’t trust her at all. He had already decided to tell the complete truth. It was the only way to deal with someone who would happily lie even to herself.

‘I never loathed you, Jac, but I hated what you did to Bron. You know that’

‘I just took what was mine’

Anger began to fill his head. He had heard this argument before and he knew that the moment was gone, never to be salvaged , but it was still a monstrous wrong.

‘You stole Bron’s son; how could you believe that he was your possession?’

‘He was my son too… Unless you think that blood is all, and I know that you don’t. You had your role…’

John sighed and shook his head wearily, feeling the years drop away. They were still having this conversation; how could that be?

‘Blood is not all – but it means something; she bore the child…’

Jacantha folded her arms and stood bolt upright as if to absorb an invisible blow.  

‘You know what happened. We fell out of love and so one of us had to keep the child. I decided that I was best equipped for that role. Bron had too many other responsibilities. It was a rational decision and I have never regretted it. ‘

If these words had come out of any other mouth then a listener would suspect bravado or self-justification, but not from her. He knew that she meant every word of it and that to argue against her was doomed to failure. To never know your guilt is to never feel it, so, my, aren’t you lucky, Jac. He made himself move beyond this horrific nostalgia; the memory of an arrogance so huge that it crushed everyone in its wake.

‘That’s not why I’m here. We need you’

‘No chance’ she snarled, ‘I only help those that I love. You can whistle for it’

John leant forward and put his hand on her head. She was shocked and he was lucky. Her memory was rusty – she had forgotten what this gesture might lead to.  He spoke very softly and in Enchanter’s Rhylic, the base language of witchcraft.

‘I invoke the coven call’

He drew the binding spell out, the one that had lain dormant in her for so long; the one that bound her to her coven forever or until she willed its dissolution.  This was a call that she had to answer one way or another. 

 She backed away; she was pale and trembling.

‘How dare you – you have no right, you aren’t the coven leader…’ she stopped herself. ‘Oh yes, of course you are. Lowest common denominator – typeset another George, print and then business as usual. Is that really what the coven still needs – subtlety but no spine?’

He knew that he had to ignore this. This would only work if he focused on the call.

‘It’s a simple decision. You left the coven but you have never repudiated it. If you do not come now you will be lost to us forever. There will be no other call’

A look of astonishment crept over her face. The colour flooded back. She shooed him away with a wave of her extraordinarily long fingers.

‘You think that I still care? After all this time, after the things that I have seen and done? You must be touched!’

‘We need you – the coven is unbalanced and under threat. We need your power. We need you to help us confront and defeat our enemies’

‘You can’t just crawl back here and expect me to…’

John cut across her.

‘We have very little time – will you respond to our call? Yes or no?’

‘This is ridiculous. I’m sorry that you have had a wasted journey – you should return as quickly as you can, if what you’ve said about your great peril is really true’

John was beginning to realise that Gwyneth had been right after all – it was extraordinary but Jacanatha was going to say ‘yes’. He had given her so many chances to repudiate the coven, but she had not. She seemed unable to say ‘no’ and he was very surprised. Every second that passed made her acceptance more likely. He couldn’t grasp, why, however. To him her mind was a deep conundrum.

‘We need you to come now’ he said, ‘we have a collapsed array and most of our witches are unconscious’

A look of slow pain began to soften her features. She looked older and more fragile, but only by a jot. She glanced across to where her lover was standing, uncomfortable and bemused, then looked back at John.   

‘Don’t do this to me, I have a life here – I am rich and happy. George promised me that he would not invoke the call’

‘Well, I’m not George, whatever else you might think of me and my abilities’

She smiled, sly and angry. ‘This is Gwyn’s doing isn’t it; she always wanted me so much and now she hates me with equal passion. She has never forgiven me for my two choices, but she knows my limits. I look forward to telling her again just how cold, dry and unlovable her heart is…’

‘You must try to behave…’ he said, feebly, ‘that was so long ago’

She came closer and glared into his eyes

‘I am what I am – that’s all you get. You know that.’

 John smiled crookedly.

‘You always make that abundantly clear, Jac. Now come on, we must go immediately…’

‘I haven’t…’

He cut her short. He’d had enough.

‘You’ve got five minutes to say your goodbyes, then teleport to the Neman beacon’

He touched her hand, and whispered the spell that passed on the beacon trace. This might well be the biggest risk of his life, but they were at a dead end. He hoped with all his heart that Celia was well, that she would survive and find a way back to them. Jacantha was tactics, Celia was strategy.

He was just about to blink away when a young man with bright red hair came wandering into the courtyard. He was tall, broad and looked so like both his parents – her eyes and nose, his smile, their ginger hair. John’s heart jolted but he had to carry on. Well that’s one mystery solved he thought, grief and joy mixing inside him. He left, before things got even worse.    

Chapter sixty

Amansk

 

The Emperor woke in the middle of the night; the wind that usually blew from across the lake had died down and a hot August stillness had crept over the city. However stifling the night, he was still grateful to have woken from his dreams.

He had been standing at the centre of a circle of people, among them his parents, his adoptive father Juvian, Titanius, Antonius, a gaggle of senators and proconsuls, Aurelian, Aquilegia, three Vyrnia mage professors, some shabbily-clad humans who he assumed must be witches, Arnon, and Lady Anne; in fact, almost anyone who had ever seemed important.  They were all giving him advice – it felt like a torrent.   He cowered in the face of all the words. The only one that seemed to be missing was Marthian.

He pushed the thin blankets aside and stood up.  He went over to the window and pulled back the curtains. His quarters were in the middle of the barracks area and he could see the night guards standing at their posts. All across the Empire thousands of his soldiers were ready for his commands. He knew exactly what he needed them to do, and all of his plans were rational – he had the best interests of his citizens at heart. So, why then was he now wondering whether they would always obey him? If one had good intentions, good plans and the wherewithal to achieve great things, why would anyone oppose them? It was a shock to him to discover that other minds might choose different ways of thinking. To be stymied by a female god seemed especially affronting. However, when one comes up against a brick wall one doesn’t continue marching. His gloomy conclusion was that he would have to reinstate Marthian, or risk losing Ortia again.

He went back to bed, pulling a sheet over himself for comfort. Strategies, scenarios and risks came tumbling through his head in an avalanche of uncertainty. After an hour he gave up any attempt at sleep, and seeing that it was now light enough to pretend that it was morning, he went off in search of a cup of coffee. The humans in the camp kitchen who made him one had no real idea who he was, but he was clearly of patrician stock, and so they treated him with cautious respect. They even found a proper china mug for him to drink from. He began to feel a lot better.

 

***

 

Marthian received the imperial summons, but at first she didn’t believe it. It had asked her to meet her liege lord by the old imperial moorings on the shore of Lake Berren. She had shown it to no-one but she had no desire to go alone. So she asked Toby, the Praefectus’s son, to walk her down to the water’s edge. He was adept with a sword and so he provided some protection, but was also high ranking enough to be present if it really was the Emperor.  He only told him that she was meeting someone and that she wanted to make sure that it was safe.

They made their way down to the lake, Marthian brooding and Toby wondering what was going on. They could see the emperor from a considerable distance – he was sitting on a log looking out to over the water. Marthian persuaded Toby to return to the city and then she walked slowly down to the shoreline.

Pallatian heard her footfalls long before she got to him. He stood and waited for her. It was a long and agonising walk. What did he want?

She stood in front of him and bowed. 

‘My lord’ she said, ‘how may I aid you?’

Pallatian nodded at her. 

‘I need to talk to you about a number of matters’

They spoke briefly about the state of Amansk, and Marthian was careful to steer a fine line between her loyalty to the empire and to her Amanskian friends. She knew anyway, that this was all just noise before the signal, whatever that might turn out to be.

The conversation turned to Ortia and then finally to something that Marthian could sense that the Emperor was genuinely interested in.

‘Have you received any word from Major Viola, recently?’ he asked

Marthian gave a small start. Her friend was often in her thoughts. She spoke before she could stop herself.

‘Do you have some news?’

He shook his head, frowned for a moment and then forced it away.

‘Do you know her well?’

‘Yes, I do – she is my closest colleague’

‘Really?’

Marthian stared down at the floor.

‘One of my closest’ she mumbled

They stood in silence for a moment, both considering their absent loves. Pallatian wondered if the ambassador knew about his: she was a marooned easterner, perhaps she’d disapprove.  It scarcely mattered, but he couldn’t help wondering.

‘Anyway’ he said, ‘how is the Major?’

Marthian looked up from the ground. She was delighted that the conversation had lumbered back to safer territory.

‘I haven’t heard from her for quite a while – but I think she’s probably fine’

‘Good – she has remarkable abilities; we wouldn’t want anything to happen to her…’

‘No, my lord, certainly not’

They stood inspecting each other, wondering what the other knew. They were both aware, however, that this wasn’t the time to share information.

‘How is life in Amansk, ambassador?’ he asked.

‘Comfortable’

‘Good. And how would you say the Imperial plan is unfolding here?’

‘Very well, my lord, I’m sure’

‘Excellent’

There was a beat. The opening gambit was over.

‘Why are you here, my lord?’ 

He smiled and gave a half-bow.

‘I need your counsel, my lady’

Marthian opened her eyes very wide. This hadn’t been what she’d been expecting at all.

‘You do?’

He looked at her quite gravely. For the first time he seemed to her to have something of the aura of an Emperor.  

‘I have a problem that I hope that you can help me solve’

She had no real idea what was coming next and so she made her face as blank as possible.

‘What is that, my lord?’

He looked away from her and out over the lake. Its surface was as smooth as glass.

‘I went to see the Uchbene-Limna’

 ‘The Lady? When did you do that? ’

‘A few days ago’

Marthian was astonished – she’d never heard of such a thing happening before. She lost her composure for a moment.

‘What on earth did she say to you?’

He stood still and straight and imposed his stare on her, just as he had been taught at the very expensive school which had groomed him for greatness. His voice was filled to the brim with authority. He had been told to do all of this when he was at a loss.

‘I can’t entirely remember, ambassador, but it involved you ’

She held her tongue. She could think of nothing that she could say that would make things any better. Her Imperial lord breathed in deeply.  

‘I would like to be able to ask you to return as proconsul, Marthian Ortiensis, but I cannot see at present how to achieve that’ He swallowed, ‘and I have been led to believe that you are a perspicacious counsellor and that I might benefit from your advice…’

She had never seen so stiff an unbending before, but an unbending it was.  She tried to free her mind of everything but her duty to the Empire and to her lord.

‘Well, I’d say that if the Lady wants something then she usually gets it. She cannot be reasoned with or persuaded. I know this from bitter experience’

‘Can she be defeated or captured?’

For a moment she could not believe his effrontery. Anger filled her up, like oil pouring into a lantern, but she did not allow it to ignite. He had the right to explore every angle.

‘Possibly – if you had all the witch lords and the entire Imperial army – but then you would lose the east, and civil war would be inevitable. After that, how long before the cloaks would rise again and exploit your weakness?’

His voice dropped to a whisper. His eyes seemed almost to be pleading. They were also worryingly intense.

‘Is there no way? I have heard that some necromancers can control Uchbenoi…’ his words were only just loud enough for her to understand them, ‘perhaps even destroy them’   

‘No, you should not even think of such things’ she said, her voice clear and strong, ‘they are against nature and I am certain that they would lead to utter catastrophe’

His blinked, and his body sagged, but she sensed that he was relieved. Perhaps what he really needed was just to have some boundaries defined. Maybe that might be her job.

‘You will have to go back’ he said, ‘it seems that there is no other way. Unless, of course, you would be willing to go to the Uchbene and lay down your claim…’

‘…I neither claim nor covet, my lord; first it was my blood-obligation and now it seems that I am called. If neither of those things were compelling me then I would stay here and tend my little garden. Do not assume that I have done anything at all expect for what duty demanded. I am no rebel and I am no pretender to some Ortian throne’

But I would really like to go home was her unspoken thought.

‘I understand that now’ he said, smiling and nodding his earnest approval, ‘but all of this leaves me with a very difficult problem’

Marthian was briefly ashamed. She should never have spoken so boldly to her lord. She bowed.

‘I will do whatever is in my power to assist you’

‘It’s Antonius’

 ‘Yes, my lord?’

‘What can I do with him, proconsul? I can’t dismiss him – his father owns half the vineyards in western Visneoria; his voice is influential in the senate...’

‘Well, let’s see…’ said Marthian, a flicker of a smile on her lips, ’why don’t you promote him?’

Pallatian glared at her, ready to chastise her for her levity, and then the penny dropped.

‘To what, though?’

‘What about “Metaproconsul”?’

‘What on earth is that?’

‘I just made it up’ admitted Marthian, ‘I think it means proconsul above proconsuls, a sort of Archaic Elven – Visneorian hybrid word, but it sounds really important’

 ‘But what would he do?’

‘Does that matter? Give him a big palace somewhere and he can administer the whole of East Visneoria as far as I’m concerned. He never has to come near Ortia ever again, and so the Lady will be happy…’

‘And so will you…’murmured the Emperor.

In one giant act of will Marthian removed all the expressions from her face, but her heart was beating wildly. She took a small step away, fearful that her liege lord would hear it.

‘I exist only to serve the Empire, my lord… It is not my place to have personal feelings’ she stopped herself at this absurdity, ‘To express my personal feelings, I mean’

Pallatian stared down at the lake.

‘You speak wisely, I suspect…’

‘Can you see any other way to resolve this, my lord?’

‘No, proconsul, I cannot’

‘Then we must go to Ortia and sort this thing out’

The Emperor smiled broadly at her, turned away from her, and began to hurry up the slight slope that led up from the shore. It was only a five minute walk back to the outskirts of the city through a small conifer forest.

Marthian mumbled her agreement to this plan and began to follow him. He turned back to her for a second.

‘And…’ he said

‘Yes, my lord’

‘Don’t tell anyone exactly why I changed my mind’

Marthian stopped for a second. She had to address his rapidly receding back.

‘What should I say?’ she asked. He growled back without turning round or slowing down.

‘Tell them that it’s none of their business…’

She had to break into a trot to try to catch up with him.

‘Do you mean that it’s a state secret?’

By then he had hurried on to the path that led through the forest. She had no idea whether he had heard her.