A Sea of Skulls (Arts of Dark and Light Book 2)

by Vox Day

  “Shall we go after them?” Marinus asked as several of the riders began to turn their horses around.

  “No,” Aulan answered, seeing that the unknown decurion had merely glanced behind him before gesticulating angrily at the men who had looked to retreat. A sensible man, it appeared, or else a naïve one. He counted twelve riders in all, and waited as the decurion rode towards him, the blue transverse plume on his helm bobbing up and down. The decurion’s horse was a grey of modest quality, his breastplate had the gleam of iron unmarred by combat, and most importantly, his sword remained sheathed. He didn’t even have a lance or bow attached to his saddle, although there was a large round shield atop the bag behind his saddle.

  “What legion are you with, Tribune?” he called as he approached.

  “Legio XV,” Aulan answered. The decurion did not look surprised.

  “You’re with Valerius Magnus, then.”

  “Your name and legion, decurion?” Aulan saw no need to belabor the obvious. “And your business here?”

  The decurion glanced from one side of the formation to the other. He didn’t need to count the exact number to know he was overmatched even without Possidius’s turma coming slowly down the road behind him.

  “I am Sextus Lucretius, with Legio XXXI. I was ordered here to escort Valerius Magnus back to Amorr, as the Consul Provincae wishes to inquire of his recent activities in Vallyria and consult with him concerning the recent uprisings.” Lucretius turned back and searched in the pack behind his saddle, and eventually produced a sealed scroll, which he brandished. “This is the summons I was ordered to deliver to the senator.”

  The seal was marked with the SPA of the Senate and People. Aulan laughed under his breath. He had no doubt that the Consul Provincae, whoever he was, would very much like to consult with Magnus. Preferably in the company of a torturer, a priest, and a strangler.

  “Then deliver it you shall,” Aulan declared, enjoying the look of surprise on Lucretius’s face. “In fact, we shall escort you to Magnus. Fortunately for you, the journey is not far. As we speak, he is here in Cernobus, meeting with the elders of the town.”

  He smiled as the decurion’s eyes narrowed suspiciously, betraying his previous knowledge of Magnus’s whereabouts. But to his credit, Lucretius didn’t insult his intelligence by pretending otherwise.

  “So I was informed,” he admitted.

  “By whom?”

  “My legate, Roscius Coelus. My understanding is that Coelus was told Magnus would be in Cernobus this afternoon by the praetor urbanus.”

  Aulan nodded. It wasn’t as if the responsible elder, or elders, would have written to an insignificant decurion. If the urban praetor had given Lucretius’s legate his orders, then a senator was involved, most likely one with ties to Vallyria.

  “Very well. Come along then, and tell your men to behave themselves. There’s no need for any unpleasantries.” He leaned towards Marinus and made a circular gesture with his left hand. “Let’s help the good decurion deliver his message, shall we?”

  Cernobus was a wealthy village not untypical of Vallyria. Its prosperity was derived from the fields that extended outside the town for leagues that produced wheat and hops. If the land was not so fertile as Illyris Baara, ships were not required to transport its harvests to Amorr and other Faleran cities even closer. It had no walls, but its streets were bricked and prior to the winter uprising there had even been discussion of a proper brick road being built between Cernobus and Priscum that would enable the village’s grain merchants to more easily cart their products to the Tarquinian seaport.

  Aulan elected to enter the village with Possidius’s turma, ordering Lucretius to leave his men under the watchful eyes of Titus Marinus and his three squadrons. The loyalist decurion knew better than to protest. After eliciting a promise that his men would neither be harmed or disarmed, he told his optio, a young man who looked about as martial as a mouse, not to cause Marinus any trouble. Aulan shot Marinus a look that stilled him; he could see the decurion was on the verge of snickering at the thought.

  The boundaries of the village proper were marked by two huge buildings that Aulan guessed were used for storing grain. After entering the town, they rode past buildings that boasted fresh stucco and two, sometimes even three levels. The village was clean, the gates well-tended, and the inhabitants they passed were more curious than alarmed at their presence. They found Magnus holding court in the central square. There was no other way to describe it; the big barrel-chested ex-consul was standing in the midst of the townsmen, stalking back and forth like a well-fed lion as he set out his vision for the transforming the Amorran empire into a republic of sovereign and independent kingdoms.

  As they approached the square and heads began to turn their way, Aulan realized that whoever had sold out Magnus would not know him from Sextus Lucretius. So, he pointed to the decurion and indicated that the man from Legio XXXI should be kept at the rear of their formation, then pulled up at the corner of the square without giving any indication that he was with Magnus. Magnus glanced over at him, but didn’t stop speaking and the powerful voice that had been heard so many times by the Amorran Senate now boomed throughout the open air of the village square.

  “Elders of Cernobus, noble men of Vallyria, do not look upon the man who stands before you as a patrician of Amorr. Do not look upon me as an ex-consul and a stranger. I am one of you! I am one of you and I say it is time for the Senate and People of Amorr to cease at length treating with you on a footing of superiority! Look around you! We see Vallyria in a most flourishing state by the bounty of God in arms and men, the Legio Civitas being vanquished in war, the Orontines and Bithnyans in league, the Utruccans now united in alliance, and the noble peoples of the former provinces preferring their own governance to that of Amorr.

  “But since the three consuls do not bring their minds to put an end to their arbitrary despotism, we, though able by force of arms to vindicate the independence of the various peoples of Falerna, will even so make this concession to the ties of blood between us and them, as to offer terms of peace on terms of equality for both, since it has pleased the Immaculate to grant that the strength of Amorr is divided while the strength of Utrucca is united. Here is the plan I set before you. In the new year, one of the consuls will be selected out of Amorr, as before, but the second out of the Falernan kingdoms, and the third from the Utruccan lands. In the place of a Consul Provincae we shall have a Consul Socii, in the place of a Consul Aquilae we will have a Consul Utruccae, and no more will the eagles march against the very lands that supply the legions! An equal portion of the senate will be from all three parties. We must be one people and one republic by the grace of the Most High God and the guidance of the Sanctified Father!

  “And that the seat of government may be the same, and we all may have the same name, since the concession must be made by the one party or others, let this, and may it be auspicious to both, have the advantage of being the mother country, and let us all be called Amorrans and citizens and countrymen!”

  In truth, it was a bold and compelling vision. Even Aulan, who knew it was nothing but a means to an end for an ambitious man, felt caught up in it. Magnus had the Cernobians all but spellbound, dreaming of a new age where they would no longer be regarded as lesser men and third-class country cousins, but equals and co-citizens. It was not the first time he had witnessed this performance, but nevertheless, its effects, its power to move men’s emotions, amazed him every time. No wonder his father, even as Prince of the Senate, had once feared this man!

  “A compelling dream,” a tall, white-haired man with a skeptical expression on his face called out. “But tell us, Valerius Magnus, who is going to lead us against the might of Amorr that even now approaches this assembly?”

  He pointed towards Aulan and his squadrons. Was he the man responsible for the letter to Amorr, Aulan wondered? Or was he merely quicker-witted than most? They would find out soon enough. In the meantime, Aulan had his part to play.<
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  “Marcus Valerius Magnus!” he pointed at Magnus. “The Senate has a message for you.”

  The men standing between him and Magnus moved to one side or the other as their faces turned towards him. Magnus didn’t betray his familiarity with his men, instead he smiled confidently and folded his arms. “Then let the messenger deliver his message.”

  Aulan glanced back and waved Lucretius forward. The decurion was white-faced and wide-eyed, but he obediently dismounted and walked through the crowd of men that surrounded Magnus. He was a little man and the plume of his helmet barely reached the top of Magnus’s head. He bowed respectfully, showing Magnus the respect due a senator and ex-consul, however rebellious, and extended the sealed scroll to him.

  “Your name and legion, decurion?” Magnus asked him as he accepted the scroll.

  “Sextus Lucretius, Legio XXXI,” Lucretius answered.

  “Legio XXXI? I am not familiar with it.” Magnus looked out at the Cernobians. “Men of Cernobus, do you know this legion?”

  “No,” came a few scattered answering cries.

  “Which House Martial fields this Legio XXXI, decurion? Who is its legate?”

  “No House, Lord Valerius. The Senate has newly raised the legion itself. Marcus Roscius Coelus is the legate commanding.”

  “A Roscius? What is a Roscius?” Magnus spread his hands as if mystified. “Do you mean to tell me that a plebian from a minor House now thinks to command a legion? A senatorial legion? And to what end? Perhaps this missive will further enlighten us.” He cracked the seal, unrolled the scroll, and looked it over quickly, nodding once or twice as he read.

  “Well, decurion, it seems the Senate demands I return to Amorr with you to face an accounting for my actions.” Magnus smiled and held up the scroll before his face, then tore it in two, crumpled up both pieces, and tossed them at Lucretius, who fumbled with them and nearly dropped one, but managed to hold onto it before it fell to the bricks. “Elders of Cernobus, men of Vallyria, that is my answer to the Senate of Amorr! I do not answer to them? Do you?”

  “No!” a few more men shouted back. But Aulan noticed that the tall white-haired man and many of the men in his vicinity were silent, looking on skeptically with their arms folded.

  “Brave words, Valerius Magnus,” the white-haired man said. “Will you say as much to the tribune mounted hither, with the twenty armed knights at his command? Amorr’s argument is eloquent, for all that it requires no words. No matter how silver one’s tongue, one cannot win a debate against iron and steel.”

  A frosty smile spread across Magnus’s face, and Aulan was struck again by the man’s agile mind, his genius for turning any unexpected development to his own advantage. He had seen the ex-consul win over one town council after another, seduce one village after another to his cause. In only a matter of months, he had seen generals voluntarily hand commands to Magnus, seen Magnus wrest an entire legion from an adversary by the force of arms. Surely this man was nothing less than a king, and a thrice-worthy king at that!

  And for the first time, he found himself wondering if his father might have bitten off more than his heirs could chew by encouraging the Valerian in his ambitions.

  “Your name and legion,” Magnus shouted as he pointed at Aulan. “Your name and legion, tribune!”

  The man was truly a master of extemporaneous theater, Aulan thought as he stifled the urge to laugh and shake his head in awe. Instead, he kept a straight face and answered truthfully. “Aulus Severus Aulan, Lord Valerius, of Legio XV.”

  “And who do you serve?”

  “Marcus Valerius Veheminus Magnus!” he answered, thumping his breastplate loudly. “Ave Magnus!”

  “Ave Magnus!” his two squadrons echoed, the clash of their gauntlets against their iron breastplates echoing through the square.

  It was even harder not to laugh at the shocked look on the face of the white-haired man and his allies. Crestfallen didn’t even begin to describe the expression on the man’s face as he took a step back and literally reeled in dismay. Magnus didn’t hesitate to seize the opportunity, as he pointed at the man in righteous contempt.

  “You wanted to know who will lead you against the might of Amorr, Lucius Annius? I tell you this: I am the might of Amorr! I am House Valerius! If the Senate will not see reason, if the Senate will not compromise, then the Senate shall see defeat at my hands! At our hands!”

  “You presume much, Magnus,” Annius shot back, recovering rapidly. “Perhaps too much. A man who changes sides as readily as a snake changes its skin may well change them again. Valerius Veheminus? I say Valerius Veneficus!”

  Magnus’s face turned red with rage. He clenched his fists, and for a moment, Aulan thought the big Valerian might charge into the crowd and strike the older man down. But somehow, he mastered himself. “You tempt me sorely, Lucius Annius. You bait me. But you will not taunt me into lessening myself in your colleague’s eyes. Would you call me traitor? Would you call me a snake with a poisoned tongue?”

  “Here speaks an Amorran who would lead us into war against the Senate, and yet he blushes to be named traitor!” Annius gestured towards Magnus with his hand as he turned his head and addressed several of his nearby companions. “Does the bird deny its feathers? Does the cat deny its claws? Does the snake deny its fangs?”

  “I was no traitor to Amorr, Lucius Annius. Amorr was a traitor to me! My son was slain by my own brother, he was murdered by hide-bound traditions no more right or just than those that now subjugate the people of Vallyria! Is it treason to have one’s eyes opened at last? Is it poisonous to finally wake from a life of long-dead dreams? Is it snakish to realize that one is swimming in a noxious swamp of lies?”

  Magnus’s eyes narrowed like a lion readying himself for the kill. He and Annius were staring at each other as if they were alone in the square. “And who are you, Lucius Annius, to speak of treason and snakes when you invited me here today in order to betray me to the Senate and send me bound and delivered to Amorr?”

  A gasp went up from the men assembled in the square.

  Magnus turned to the decurion. “Tell me, Sextus Lucretius, did you ride here alone?”

  “No, Lord Valerius. I came in the company of eleven other knights.”

  “Are the roads so dangerous these days that you required so many simply to deliver a message to me?”

  “No, Lord Valerius.”

  “I see.” Magnus nodded and looked out at the Cernobians. “Were you anticipating possible resistance on my part?”

  “Yes, Lord Valerius. We were informed you would have a small bodyguard.”

  The elders and onlookers began murmuring amongst themselves, and more than a few men pointed at Annius and his companions.

  “As I do,” Magnus gestured to the four legionaries who were standing several paces behind him. “Where are the rest of your men, decurion?”

  “We were intercepted by Tribune Severus en route. My men remain with his other turma outside the town.”

  Magnus made a gesture of feigned surprise with both hands. A few snickers could be heard from the crowd. “It sounds to me as if my resistance has been successful, wouldn’t you say so, decurion?”

  “Without question, Lord Valerius.”

  “Then seeing as your business here is concluded, decurion, I wonder if you might be willing to take a message back to the Senate for me?”

  “It would be an honor, Lord Valerius.” Aulan grinned at the man’s respectful civility. Sextus Lucretius might have fallen into his ambush as blithely as a virgin in a whorehouse, but he was clearly no fool.

  “My message to my former colleagues in the Senate is this: Magnus is waiting! If you will not grant independence to all peregrini or full citizenship to the Utruccan people, war and defeat awaits you! Send your slaves and your criminals to march here if you dare; the fields of Vallyria will be watered with their blood!”

  As his voice rang throughout the square, the decurion bowed. “It shall be delivered even as you
said, Lord Valerius. May I have your permission to withdraw with my men?”

  “You may return to Amorr, but your men may not,” Magnus told him.

  “Lord Valerius, I was told my men would be unharmed!” Lucretius’s eyes flashed angrily as he looked over at Aulan, then back again to Magnus. “I demand to share their fate, whatever it might be!”

  “Perhaps you shall, should you return.” Magnus glanced at Aulan, his jowled face creased with amusement. “Decurion, you misunderstand me. I mean your knights no harm. I intend for them to take service with me.”

  “You expect them to turn their coats?”

  “The equestrian who is not with me may well one day find himself riding against me. Be advised that the men who captured you today are from Legio XV, a legion that fought against me at Montmila.” He turned towards Aulan’s formation and extended his right arm, palm upward. “Ave, First Knights!”

  Their response came immediately again, punctuated by the metal-on-metal clash of their salute. “Ave, Magnus!”

  Magnus turned to the decurion, lowered his arm, and extended it to the smaller man. “Three months’ pay up front for your men, Lucretius. Six months’ for you, as well as promotion to senior decurion. You are a good officer, Sextus Lucretius, and there is a place in my army for every good man I can find!”

  The decurion hesitated a moment, and then he seemed to come to a decision. He took Magnus’s forearm and gripped it firmly. The two men nodded at each other, then Lucretius turned and walked towards Aulan. The Cernobians watching were silent, though whether in fear or awe of Magnus, Aulan couldn’t tell.

  “What of you, Elders of Cernobus? What of you, men of Vallyria?” Magnus challenged them. “Are you with Magnus and Vallyria? Or are you slaves of Amorr?”

  The silence was first broken by the younger men. “Magnus, Vallyria!” they began to chant. “Magnus, Vallyria!” Gradually, more of the older men joined them, until at last one of the elders did. But Lucius Annius remained silent, his arms folded, and his eyes narrow with anger.