‘What is it?’ he asked, wide-eyed, clearly alarmed at seeing signs of anxiety on the faces of the two brothers. Joshua was the first to answer.
‘It’s Quintus,’ he said quietly. ‘He’s been arrested.’
Chapter Forty
Joshua and Noah are long gone. Esther and Richard are sitting opposite each other on decrepit wooden chairs placed in front of a glowing, wood burning stove. It is late autumn on Terra Nova and the nights are inexorably lengthening in exactly the same way as happens on Earth. Cold, icy weather is beginning to encroach and, although it is now only six o’clock in the evening, it is dark and the temperature is already close to freezing point on the streets of Leviticus. Esther has the same voluminous cloak wrapped around her for warmth while Richard, appearing impervious to the cold, is dressed in a worn, roughly woven, dark grey toga that has undoubtedly been passed from hand to hand after being discarded by previous users. Conversation between the two of them has been wooden, not because of Richard’s reluctance to talk but rather as a consequence of Esther’s inability to rid herself of the trauma directly resulting from witnessing the arrest of Quintus. Nevertheless Esther’s sobbing was abating in direct relation to the passage of time, plus the effect of the warmth that was now pervading throughout her body. Colour has returned to her face and the shaking that had been affecting her body was now only an occasional, involuntary jerk. Richard was encouraged upon seeing the changes and decided now was time to engage her in conversation.
‘You feeling better,’ he asked. ‘Can I get you anything, a drink perhaps?’
Esther looked up, half smiled, and brushed aside a long swathe of flaxen hair which was partly shrouding her face.
‘Thank you Richard, I’m very grateful - to you - for staying with me that is. I know I’ve been causing you all a great deal of distress... ’
Her voice tailed off to a whisper. Richard smiled, rose to his feet and inadvertently stumbled over the trailing edge of his toga. He ended up knees resting on the wooden floor, his upper body swathed in Esther’s outstretched arms. Their eyes met. Laughter overcame any pretence at decorum as Esther’s arms became wrapped even more tightly around Richard’s back.
‘I’m such a clown!’ said Richard, his cheek resting on Esther’s bust. ‘I’m supposed to be looking after you, and here I am wrapped up in your arms, burbling like a moron.’
Esther placed an open hand on Richard’s cheek and stroked it gently, still embracing him with her other arm. Richard remained kneeling, impassive, his face wearing a huge smile.
‘Do you mind if I tell you something Esther? Something I’ve wanted to say this since we first met?’ he asked, sitting back on his heels. ‘You are the most beautiful woman I have met in my entire life! If I didn’t have an obligation to return to Earth I would be very tempted to... ’
Esther shook her head slowly, and held up a restraining hand.
‘Don’t say any more Richard, for I too would be sorely tempted, but we both know it would be a very unwise course to follow at this time. Relationships on Terra Nova are, by law, arranged between consenting partners. The reason for that is to ensure the procreation of beings as physically and mentally perfect as possible. You and I would be acceptable as partners, of that I have no doubt, but the fact remains you must return to Earth sooner rather than later, and we should therefore put aside any feelings we may harbour for each other until the future is more clearly defined. For now, let us concentrate on the challenges facing us, and set temptation aside until we are free to choose without the constraints that now inhibit us.’
Richard rose to his feet, reached out for her hands and gently raised her from the chair.
‘If what Noah has told me is true, that my origins are from Terra Nova, the situation could be very different for us, for our future, if you see what I mean. But, having said that, I agree we must wait.’
Esther’s eyes opened wide.
‘Noah said you’re from Terra Nova?’ she asked, with a hint of amusement in her voice. She paused, smiled and shook her head at the thought. ‘Dear Richard, I wouldn’t attach too much credibility to what Noah says. He’s known throughout Leviticus for his exotic flights of fantasy - which is probably the reason why he chooses to flit around galaxies in those silly flying machines of his!’
Richard burst into laughter.
‘Crikey Esther, you’ve developed a sense of humour! That was really very funny!’
Esther raised her eyebrows, not sure what to make of the remark.
‘Seriously,’ continued Richard. ‘That’s exactly what I thought when Noah told me I’m a Terra Novan. So let’s put that nonsense aside and accept I’m a product of Mother Earth who has fallen for a beautiful woman from Terra Nova. How does that sound? Then, when all of our problems are sorted, we can decide if we have a future together. What do you think? Does that make sense?’
Richard leaned slowly forward and placed a tender kiss on Esther’s pink lips.
‘Yes, yes, yes,’ she whispered as they finally they drew apart. ‘That makes a great deal of sense.’
Chapter Forty One
The dreams had returned, only this time they appeared to be designed with the intention of providing solace for Jules who, after nearly 30 months of loneliness and heartache, was now resigned to the possibility that Alexander’s father was gone, forever. However, the dreams foretold otherwise. She saw Richard looking healthy, albeit somewhat confused, in the company of others who appeared to be set upon a course of change, a change for the better. Although there was no indication as to the reason why change was in the offing it became apparent that evil forces were an obstacle to achieving the perceived goal. Gathered around Richard were a group of men whose bearing was that of noble caste. One imposing man, long white hair and a flowing white beard majestically framing his face, appeared to be the leader: of what the dreams did not reveal. Others, younger, yet just as purposeful-looking, were being supportive of Richard in that they surrounded him exuding an aura of love and companionship. A beautiful woman, glowing with radiant health, silk-like flaxen hair falling to her shoulders, framing a face with the same delicate bone structure of Aphrodite, stood to one side smiling confidently. Despite wearing a voluminous white dress, her slender figure was now and then visible as a gentle breeze suffused playfully around her.
It appeared as if the dream was telling Julia that Richard was safe, that he was still very much alive. The dreams continued, night after night, gradually helping her to attain a relaxed state of mind that augured well for the future of her son Alexander, Richard and herself. She could not determine where the dreams were being enacted, although the background was oddly reminiscent of long forgotten scenes from the history books of her schooldays; scenes from the glory of ancient Rome.
Her nights, previously filled with the horrors of her worst fears, now became havens of relief from the mantle of despair that had formed like an impenetrable cloak around her body. Little Alexander, often welcomed into her bed for the comfort that only a mother can bring to a symbiotic relationship, was imbued with a sense of belief by whispered words that spoke of hope and encouragement. She began to realise that the constant stream of phantasmagoria was intended to provide the comfort that a future with Richard Moss was not something ephemeral, but an inflexible, inevitable, unequivocal reality.
Chapter Forty Two
Amos Caelius Aquila was visibly stunned at the news of the arrest of Quintus Claudius Avitus.
‘When did this happen?’ he asked quietly.
Noah and Joshua were now seated opposite Amos in one of the back rooms of the safe house. The trio were joined by three burly members of LEP who were gathered around the back of the chair where Amos was sitting; ostensibly their brief was to protect him. Their faces were devoid of any signs of passion - rigid, as if carved from marble. Noah’s uneasiness resulting from the walk through the streets of Leviti
cus had increased exponentially upon entering the house and, now, after being confronted with one of the realities of the movement against Ezra, his nervousness became more apparent. Joshua, on the other hand, was looking relaxed, at ease. Before answering Amos he smiled at his brother in an attempt to bolster his confidence. He received a minimal nod in return.
‘Esther brought the news’, he said. ‘About two hours ago. He was seen outside the Office of Administrative Affairs, in chains, bare of foot, bleeding. She said there was no doubt it was him. No doubt at all...’
Amos stood up and approached the brothers. He placed one hand on the shoulder of Amos and the other on Noah. He looked as if he was about to pray over them but, instead, spoke in a voice which reflected his determination, conviction, towards the resolution of what he knew was a life and death situation.
‘Quintus is an honourable man. He is not afraid to speak what he perceives as the truth, hence his arrest. He knew he was walking a dangerous path when he dared to voice criticisms. And it is due to such as he that our movement for change is gaining such momentum. It is a fact that many others who feel the same will also end up in the clutches of my brother’s abhorrent regime but that shall make no difference to the final outcome. We must not let setbacks deflect us from our ultimate goal. The time is near when we will rise and cast out the evil that surrounds us.’
His eyes were now fixed on Noah.
‘We rely on such as you Noah to demonstrate steadfastness in these trying times. It is imperative that we display individual courage and determination, so that those around us take note and remain strong. Our efforts to succeed must not be damaged by the arrest of Quintus - in fact he will expect us to redouble our efforts. Whatever happens, Licentia ex Persecution will prevail, for The Creator has so deemed it. So, fear not Noah, be resolute, never doubt yourself and never doubt the cause we are pursuing.’
Noah appeared to gain a modicum of strength from Amos’s words. The haunting look that had scarred his face when he first arrived was still evident but the look in his eyes had changed. The innate dullness that had characterized his depression was now replaced by a sparkle; signaling a renaissance, an emerging glimmer of hope for the future.
‘So what are we going to do?’ he asked. ‘About Quintus, that is?’
Amos shook his head.
‘Until we know where he is and what he has been charged with, there is not much we can do,’ he answered. ‘Because of his high position in government he will have to be given a public trial, albeit it will be rigged. However, not even Ezra would be foolish enough to pass judgment or sentence without appearing to have adhered to our “innocent until proven guilty” bill of rights. The only thing we can do is to wait until an announcement is made which, I am sure, will happen very quickly. But let us not waste this opportunity to further our cause. News of his arrest must be spread far and wide - to all who will listen and take heed. If, by so doing, we can generate more opposition to my brother’s rule then something good will come out of this. But for now I suggest you return to Trastevere and rejoin Esther. Thank her for bringing the news and do what you can to help her over the shock. Remember this well. She is a highly valued asset to our organisation and we must do all that is required to protect her...’
He paused, and then continued, adding words of caution.
‘... unless there is a good reason to do otherwise, do not leave the safe house. You will be contacted as soon as we are ready to act.’
Chapter Forty Three
It is three days since the arrest of Quintus Claudius Avitus. The Great Leader, Ezra, is alone in his private quarters preparing himself for the initial hearing due to take place later this afternoon at which charges of sedition are to be brought against Quintus, his Minister for Justice. Even though his Council of Ministers had demonstrated their loyalty by voting overwhelmingly against Quintus, he was nevertheless experiencing isolation, uncertainty and vulnerability. He was deeply absorbed in recalling the success of his first two terms in office; a magnificent eight years during which his governance was lauded and applauded throughout the entire width and breadth of Terra Nova. The sweet taste of success was now a bitter, acidic burning in the pit of his stomach. Why, he asked himself, can the people upon whom I have lavished so much, now turn against me? Tears welled in his eyes, a result of the gratuitous self-pity that was overwhelming him. He was seated upon a magnificently carved throne-like chair; around his forehead and over his grey hair was a golden strap upon which were surmounted intricately woven, gilded leaves. His dazzling white silk toga was enhanced by a broad purple stripe - a testament to his exalted rank in Terra Novan society. But for the tears trickling down his face, he would have looked the personification of the noblest among the most noble.
Quintus, my best friend since we were little boys, playing in the street together, having fun, never quarreling. Why, why, why would he turn his back on me? Thoughts such as these were constantly infusing Ezra’s already tortured mind. His eyes alighted on a lyre placed on a nearby table. He picked it up, rested it on his thighs and reached for a plectrum which was entwined between three of its strings. He began strumming a melancholy dirge. Doing so only served to heighten his sense of detachment from reality. Wide-eyed, his voice a macabre drone of screeching highs and baleful lows, he continued to strum mechanically until setting the lyre roughly aside. He began sobbing, and buried his head into his outstretched hands. After several minutes his sobbing eventually ceased.
A knock on the door situated at the end of his private chamber aroused him from his self induced trance.
‘What is it?’ he shouted, drawing a trembling hand across his tear streaked cheeks.
The door opened sufficiently wide to reveal the nervous face of the woman who was in charge of his private secretariat.
‘Great Leader,’ she said in a voice quivering with nervousness. ‘The trial of Quintus Claudius Avitus is due to open within the hour. As requested I have revised your speech again according to your recent instructions. I trust this revision will receive your most esteemed approval. Please, let me know if it meets with your approval for there is little time available before the trial opens.’
Ezra beckoned the woman towards him. She approached obsequiously and handed Ezra an ancient, scarred leather folder inscribed with faded gold lettering. Inside the folder was a sheaf of white papers upon which were line upon line of beautifully crafted hand writing, such as that seen in learned books lodged in the libraries of ancient Rome. Ezra read each page carefully, nodding occasionally, grimacing often, pausing frequently. He reached the final word and looked up.
‘This version is excellent. You have excelled yourself,’ he said, aware and embarrassed that tears were still apparent on his cheeks. ‘Pray be gone now and allow me to prepare myself for the trial, for I fear its aftermath will be highly contentious after I reveal the contents of my speech.’
***
The atmosphere in the hastily assembled courtroom was tense. Ezra had issued an unequivocal order that the venue was to be revealed only to those persons chosen to attend the trial of his Minister for Justice, Quintus Claudius Avitus. He had also dispensed with the degrading period of at least a full month of incarceration in one of his jails in Leviticus, prior to a defendant being brought to trial; the purpose of which was to break the resilience and defiance of those unfortunate enough to fall foul of his omnipotent rule. A rush to trial appeared to be his driving force in this particular case, since only three days have elapsed since the arrest of the accused.
Marcus Annius Verus has been charged with the task of assembling all of the elements necessary to mount a successful trial, including selecting and priming witnesses, appointing a judge who would willingly acquiesce to Ezra’s will and, finally, ensuring that the outcome matches in every detail that preordained by The Great Leader. It was a delicate, fraught, task which Marcus would rather have not been assigned. But,
that was the way it was, and he was determined to see it through rather than risk Ezra’s censorious wrath that would result from any hint of non-compliance. This was the very first time that a member of Ezra’s inner cabinet (all of whom were subject to minute testing and scrutiny before acquiring cabinet rank) had been charged with any offence under Terra Novan law. Ezra had been immensely proud of this fact, but sadly the bond had been broken by someone whom he would have trusted with his life - his long-time friend and trusted colleague, Quintus Claudius Avitus.
The twelve jurors were seated, six to a row, to the left of the presiding judge’s bench. The appointed judge, Obadiah Cornelius Scipio, had been approached by Marcus and while not exactly being pressured into agreeing to preside, a gentle arm twisting was applied which Obadiah initially resisted but finally acquiesced, much to the delight of Marcus. What Marcus did not know, however, was the fact that Obadiah was a committed, senior member, of Licencia Ex Persecution and, what is more, so are twenty-five of those persons selected by Marcus to attend the court hearing!
The courtroom’s 300 seat capacity was only a quarter full. All those ordered to attend were seated on the lowest rows closest to the two desks where the prosecution and defence counsel were to be found. At today’s proceedings Marcus Annius Verus will assume the prosecution role while Quintus has insisted on defending himself. Everything, everyone, was in place with the exception of the person without whom the proceedings could not, by law, commence; The Great Leader, Ezra Coelius Aquila! Under the laws of Terra Nova any trial involving a high ranking patrician, must open with a speech delivered by the current Great Leader. The level of nervous anticipation was increasing with each successive minute, not the least among the twelve jury members upon whom utmost pressure will be heaped if the prosecution fails to deliver compelling evidence to reach an unequivocal guilty verdict. An increasing hum of whispered conversations wafted throughout the courtroom reaching the ears of Marcus and Obadiah who were standing inches apart, silent, pensive, in front of the judges’ bench.
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