Miranda sighed as she turned to face the princess. "Your Highness, I do not particularly enjoy riddles. Kindly say what you mean."
Princess Romana's face softened as she stared at Miranda for a moment. "The Crimson Rose have risen in Corona province. The entire area has been consumed by rebellion."
Please, God, protect him. Protect them all. Miranda tightened her grip upon her cane but even so she nearly stumbled backwards, nearly toppling the statue. "You are certain of this?"
"I am," Romana said. "I'm sorry."
"I...oh God, Michael," Miranda murmured.
"Quirian did not tell you?"
"No," Miranda said. "Are you certain he knew?"
"He knows more than any man in the city, save for myself and possibly Lady Manzikes," Romana said. "Why don't you ask him what he knows?"
"I shall do just that," Miranda growled. Before she could start towards him, Romana took her by the arm.
"My condolences were sincere," Romana said quietly. "I am sorry. I grieve for every suffering endured by the children of Aegea."
Miranda took her arm away, but not fiercely or hostilely. "Thank you, Your Highness. Will you excuse me?"
"Of course," Romana said, letting her go on her way.
Miranda moved as quickly as she could towards Quirian, catching him after one conversation had finished but before another could begin.
"Ah, Filia," Quirian said, smiling indulgently. "How are you enjoying the evening."
"Less than I was, now that I have heard some disturbing news of home," Miranda growled.
"Ah, I see you have been talking to Princess Romana," Quirian said.
"So you did know," Miranda snapped. "Is there a reason why you didn't tell me?"
"I wanted you focussed on your work, Filia, not on matters you could not affect. I saw no reason to distract you."
"No reason!" Miranda yelled. She forced herself to calm down. She needed to be calm. People were staring at her. "My home is burning, my brother's life could be in danger if he is not dead already, do you not think that reason enough?"
"I might have," Quirian said slowly. "Had it not been for another piece of information that has come to me by sources as private as Princess Romana's own: your brother lives, but he has fallen in with a man named Gideon Commenae, a traitor to the Empire and a personal enemy of mine. I am afraid that Michael is a far greater threat to us than the Crimson Rose."
"I do not believe that," Miranda replied sharply. "Who is this enemy of yours, this Gideon Commenae? Who has Michael gotten himself involved with?"
"A notorious traitor, renegade and fratricide," Quirian said. "He will kill us both if he gets the chance, and try to use your magic to usurp the purple throne itself."
"How?"
"An arcane ritual which will cause you great pain as you pass away," Quirian said. "Put it from your mind, Filia, he will not harm you while I live. What is more important is that, in the confusion of the rebellion, he has suborned Michael to his cause. It seems he has convinced Michael that I am an enemy of the Empire, that I mean to manipulate or kill you, and that he is the Empire's only true servant and the only man who can save it."
Miranda frowned. It did sound like the sort of thing Michael would swallow whole. He had always had a weakness for heroes, for Great Men, and he could convince himself that practically anyone deserved such titles however much or little they actually did. "He is charismatic, this Gideon Commenae?"
"Very much so, I am afraid."
"And plausible? And noble in his speech?"
"Yes, to both."
"Then I can see it happening all too easily," Miranda said. Her voice became soft and quiet. "What will become of him?"
"By allying himself with Gideon Commenae, Michael has made himself a traitor to the Empire," Quirian said. "The penalty for treason is death."
"He hasn't done anything yet," Miranda protested.
"He is a runaway slave," Quirian pointed out.
"An argument which might hold water with me if I believed in slavery. Unfortunately for you, I do not," Miranda said. "You said it yourself, Michael has been misled. This Gideon Commenae is deceiving him. He's not responsible for what he does when he is being lied to, he is a child!"
"Your brother is a man of twenty winters," Quirian noted.
"But he has the mind of a child, the comprehension of a child, and a stupid one at that," Miranda said. "Please, my lord, for the services I have you done I beg you, have mercy. Let me go to Corona - Lysimachus may take me back there as he brought me here - and speak to him. I know I can reason with him."
"I cannot spare Lysimachus," Quirian said quickly. "I need him here, with the threat of the Unstoppable Man so near and so dangerous. And besides, you would be at unconscionable risk."
"More at risk than here, with the Unstoppable Man around?" Miranda replied. She looked around. "And besides, I don't see Lysimachus here to protect you."
Lucifer coughed quietly. "Lord Father, perhaps Octavia could-"
"Certainly not," Quirian said quickly. "Besides, Octavia has never shown any desire to reveal that particular talent to the world."
"What are you talking about?" Miranda demanded. "Octavia could what?"
"Nothing, Filia, put it from your mind," Quirian purred, his voice silky smooth. "I promise I will do everything I can for Corona, once the situation in the city has stabilised. But for the moment-"
There was a bang outside, and the sound was enough to silence the entire house. The whole courtyard fell deadly silent, even as the sounds of shouting and violence rose to a fearful crescendo without.
"Is he here?" Miranda asked, her voice becoming very small. As she listened to the sounds of the fighting she felt like a little girl again, going to sleep every night without knowing if the Crimson Rose would come and stop her from ever waking again. Don't worry, our Miranda, I'll protect you.
Liar. You're not even here, and even when you were you couldn't protect mother, or Felix.
But I wish you were here now.
Lucifer's blade slid from the sheath on his back as he raised the staff that was his left arm so that the metal fingers were pointing towards the gate. "To arms the Lost! Form line, swords and spears to the fore, mages and archers to the rear!"
Metella stepped forwards, standing between Quirian and any danger. She had a knife in one hand and a gladius in the other, and her eyes were glowing with an ethereal blue light. In fact her whole body seemed strangely radiant, her skin more luminescent than was normal.
"Be careful," she whispered.
"I shall be as careful as the foe allows," Lucifer responded, pushing through the crowds to join the men and women of the Lost. They all looked so young, Miranda realised, as young as her. What chance did such youth have where Lord Manzikes' veteran soldiers had failed?
Octavia was the only member of the Lost who had not joined the line, instead jogging to Miranda's side as she awkwardly drew her two-handed sword over her lumpy back. Her golden eyes were wide, and her face was pale.
"Do you think it's that assassin?" she asked. "The one they call the Unstoppable Man?"
"How should I know, you're the warrior?" Miranda said. She laughed nervously. "You know, you're really far too worried-looking for a bodyguard. Aren't you supposed to be making me feel confident?"
Octavia didn't laugh. "Whatever happens, I promise I'll protect you."
"Don't talk like that," Miranda said sharply.
"Like what?"
"Like you're going to die," Miranda said. "I've had enough of people trying to die nobly. Death isn't noble. You're going to live. We're all going to live."
Except, judging by the sounds of the fighting going on beyond the gate, quite a few people had died already.
The rest of the guests were slowly retreating towards the house, murmuring in confusion. None of them seemed to have any confidence in the ability of the gates to hold, or of the line of the Lost to repel the attack.
Miranda could understand that, becau
se she did not have an over-abundance of confidence herself.
Acamas Maro was standing in front of his father and mother, arms spread out as though he could protect his parents with his body. Even though his hands were shaking Miranda felt that it was creditable that he was making the attempt. Certainly it was more than some of his fellows could say: Gellius was hiding behind a statue, Valens looked as though he had wet himself, Dio had gone pale with fear and Hippolytus Kyrios was clutching at Prince Antiochus like a hysterical lover in some theatrical melodrama. His Highness did not look impressed by the act, but nor did he look terribly worried. In fact, if Miranda had to say, she would have said his expression was anticipatory.
He was the only man in the assembled company who showed not a trace of fear.
Quirian clapped his hands loudly, and when he spoke his voice carried over the nervous whisperings of the guests. "My lords and ladies, madams and gentlemen, please, I beg of you, do not be alarmed. We are as well protected here as anywhere in the Empire and safer than most places. Aelia, be a good girl and bring up some of our golems. A dozen should more than suffice."
"Um... yes, Lord Father," Aelia said, breaking ranks to run into the back of the house.
"In the meantime," Quirian continued. "Please be calm. There is nothing to fear."
Even as he spoke the sounds of screaming and shouting and the clash of weapons continued outside. Any guards, such as those of the Princess Romana, had been left outside until the night ended. It was they, doubtless, who were presently dying at the hands of the Unstoppable Man.
In fact it was Princess Romana making her way towards Quirian now, sweat droplets beginning to form on her face.
"Pater Quirian," she said, her tone commanding. "You must open the gate and command your men to sally out."
"And why would I do such a tactically unsound thing, Your Highness?" Quirian asked casually.
"Because my men are outside getting slaughtered, I need a sortie to take the pressure off them while there may be some left alive," Romana shouted, pushing past Metella to stand within a few inches of Quirian.
"And why should I risk the lives of my followers to save yours?" Quirian said.
Princess Romana's face contorted into a snarl as she reached up and grabbed Quirian by the scruff of the neck, hauling him downwards so that his face was level with her own. Metella looked wary, but did not react overtly.
Princess Romana snarled into Quirian's face. "You will give the order you damnable upstart or I will have you up on a cross at-"
The gate exploded.
Through the smoke and the splinters strode the Unstoppable Man, a falcata in his right hand, while his left hand glowed with a power not unlike that which Miranda called upon to save lives. His face was hidden by the long, dark cloak which hung down his back. His leather cuirass was covered in blood, and more blood pooled around his feet, flooding the street from all the men he had slaughtered outside.
"Empress' grace defend us and her spirit give us courage," Princess Romana murmured.
The killer they called the Unstoppable Man paused in the ruined gateway, as if he were soaking up the fear of all who gazed upon him.
"At long last," he murmured, and Miranda could have sworn she recognised his voice. "Justice will come to the Empire."
"Archers!" Lucifer yelled, and two dozen archers loosed arrows, including a six foot tall fellow named Teucer who fired a bow that was as tall as he was. All the arrows flew straight and true towards their target, who simply leapt out of the way with catlike grace, as though to do so was child's play to him. As the darts clattered on the stone of the courtyard, the Unstoppable Man began to charge forward with such swiftness that Miranda wondered if he was a man at all, and not some god like Beltor returned to earth to wreak havoc upon sinful men.
"Magic!" Lucifer called, and fireballs and lightning bolts shot out from the ranks of the Lost, stones flew through the air, air mages called up all the winds at their command.
Wands and staffs were drawn, and to the Black Abyss with the opinion of the Novar church as magic of all kinds lashed out towards this killer who had come to take their lives.
It was not enough. The Unstoppable Man dodged every ball of fire, sliced rocks in half with his sword, withstood the winds as though he were a mountain, and even as he dodged and dived the arrows and the spells he did not stop his advance, but kept on closing the distance to the Lost.
Lucifer's arm began to glow with an orange light as he pointed it at the assassin. "In the name of Arus, Lord of Fire, Thanates, Mistress of the Air, and Stratus, Lightning Lord, I dedicate this act of mine: thirteen arrows of light!"
Thirteen arrows of dazzling brightness shot from Lucifer's iron hand and sped towards the Unstoppable Man. They caught him as he had finished avoiding a shot from Teucer's great bow, and for once this man of dazzling speed had no time to react. The Lost cheered as Miranda shut her eyes...and then their cheers were turned to cries of dismay as the Unstoppable Man strode out of the explosion unharmed.
"With your permission, Lord Father," Metella murmured. She was the only warrior who did not seem unnerved by the assassin's inhuman abilities. In fact her tone had not altered a whit from its usual placid calm.
"Hold fast," Quirian replied.
That did trouble Metella. Her brow creased minutely, but she said nothing.
"Hold fast," Lucifer shouted, echoing his master without realising. "Make ready for melee!"
The Unstoppable Man, his cloak not even ruffled, began to charge. Pericles ran to meet him, shield held before him, sword raised, but the assassin pierced through shield, cuirass and body with a single stroke. Tyndareus threw a spear at him, but the Unstoppable Man caught it and threw it back so hard it struck him in the chest and hurled him back ten feet. Astareus attacked with two swords, whirring them wildly and screaming as he came on, but the implacable adversary split one of his blades in half with a sword stroke and laid a hand on Astareus' arm. The glow of the Unstoppable Man's hand intensified and Astareus' arm exploded; he fell back screaming as his severed stump flopped upon the courtyard like a fish dragged from the ocean.
He kept on coming. Magic, spell, sword or spear, none could touch him. He cut down Demodocus, who played the lyre in the evenings, and with his power he blew the head off Faecenia, who helped Miranda create new golems. Agricola and Timoleon died, Clodia and Geta were wounded. Valentinian was impaled, Briseis had her chest blown open. The ground was slaked in the blood of the fallen, and the air was filled with the cries of those who were left to perish more slowly.
Then he leapt at Lydia, and when she used her lightning like a whip to lash at him he caught it in his naked hand, holding the magic still for a moment before wrenching it from Lydia's grasp, the lightning flickered and the died in the hands of the Unstoppable Man.
"Lord Father," Metella's voice was louder now, more insistent. "Give me leave."
"No," was all Quirian said.
He charged at her, Lydia recoiled in horror, before a fireball passed in front of his face, thrown his way by Cebriones.
Miranda's fire-magic tutor looked incredibly nervous, but he stood his ground as the Unstoppable Man turned his way. "I'd rather go first," Cebriones muttered.
The Unstoppable Man looked at him for a moment, nodded in concession of the point, then attacked.
Cebriones hurled another fireball. The Unstoppable Man ploughed through as though it were nothing. Again and again Cebriones threw fire, and again and again it did not so much as singe his opponent. The Unstoppable Man leapt up into the air, sword raised to slice Cebriones in half.
Lucifer tackled Cebriones to one side, pushing him out of the way and knocking him to the ground. With the Unstoppable Man in mid-leap, unable to dodge, Lucifer raised his sorcerous arm.
"To Arus and to Stratus, to Thanates the Swift and to Riate, Eldest and Highest, do I dedicate my deeds," Lucifer cried in triumph. "Spring forth my Ultimate Spear!"
A beam of light as thick as a tree-trunk
erupted from Lucifer's arm. The Unstoppable Man twisted in mid air, hanging there like a bird on the wing or a fish in the sea his body contorting to avoid the deadly blast in defiance of all sense and reason, in spite of the fact that there was nothing for him to hang on to. The beam died down and he was unharmed.
"This must be a nightmare," Miranda murmured. "For it cannot be real."
"It's real enough," Romana said darkly.
The Unstoppable Man fell on Lucifer. Lucifer raised his sword to block the descending blow. The assassin retreated a step, then attacked with the same impossible speed. Miranda had watched numerous battles in the arena back home and she had never seen anybody move this fast, or with such strength. Michael on his best day, Peter the Lion in his prime, Daniel the Destroyer, none of them could have matched this man for speed or strength. His blade clashed with the sword of Lucifer, and Lucifer's spatha shattered from the blow. Lucifer stumbled backwards from the sword's deadly edge, bringing up his arm.
"In the name of Riate, Eldest and Highest-"
The Unstoppable Man grabbed his metal arm about where the elbow would have been. "You talk too much."
Lucifer's arm exploded, fragments of metal clattering to the ground as Lucifer recoiled.
The Unstoppable Man added, "And your dead gods cannot help you now. The only mercy that matters here is mine."
And then he rammed his sword into Lucifer's chest.
Lucifer gasped as he fell backwards and landed on the cold, uncaring stones of Quirian's courtyard. Miranda screamed as the assassin raised his sword for a second, final, blow.
Metella screamed too. But unlike Miranda, Metella screamed in raw fury as she charged forward - this time she did not ask Quirian for permission - her whole body glowing with ethereal light. Faster than the stormy waves she moved, catching the Unstoppable Man by surprise and driving him back across the bloodstained courtyard as she hurled herself on him with all her fury, her gladius and dagger gleaming as they waved in erratic, angry arcs as fleet as a hurricane.
"They may call you the Unstoppable Man," Metella snarled as she drove her enemy backwards before her. "But I know what you are, and I know how to kill you. All I have to do is cut out your heart!"
Spirit of the Sword: Pride and Fury (The First Sword Chronicles Book 1) Page 34