by A K Fedeau
“What are they saying?” Livia asked.
Marcus stared in horror. “I don’t know!”
The driver tugged the reins, and the cart ploughed into the palace grounds.
•••
The soldiers hauled Marcus and Livia through the palace corridors, until they took a hard right and pushed them into the throne room.
A growing group of curious courtiers stumbled after them, and flooded into every nook and cranny between the towering marble pillars. Before long, the room grew so full that they stood chest-to-back, and Marcus and Livia stumbled over their polished boots and skirts. And Hector sat at the top of the steps on his huge, golden throne - staring at them with a look that could wither flowers and curdle milk.
The restless nobles elbowed each other and stepped on their toes, and the soldiers dragged Marcus and Livia to the end of the long, red rug. When Livia glanced up, she noticed a bandage on Hector's face, stretching all the way across his cheek to the corner of his mouth.
“Well?” Hector asked.
No one answered.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?”
Marcus and Livia stayed silent, heaving as they caught their breath.
“You try to murder me…” Hector clenched his teeth - “and you can’t even speak when you’re spoken to?”
“That’s quite a bandage,” Marcus snarked. “Did Livia give you that?”
“I changed my mind,” Hector muttered. “Shut him up.”
The soldiers brandished their swords.
“Stand down!” Marcus barked.
The soldiers instinctively scrambled back.
Marcus glowered at Hector. “Not everyone here answers to you.”
Hector gripped his lion-head armrests. “I said shut him up!”
“I said stand down!” Marcus yelled again.
The soldiers shuffled further away, and defiance shone in Marcus’ eyes - and Hector winced as blood seeped through his bandage from the strain of his shout.
“I can do this all day, Hector,” Marcus taunted.
Hector dabbed his cheek. “That’s Your Majesty.”
“Oh, that’s right,” Livia scoffed. “You paid good coin for that title, didn’t you?”
“I should kill you for that on principle.”
Livia glowered at Hector. “You won’t.”
Hector balled up his fists. “Watch me!”
“Even you know you wouldn’t survive that.” Marcus shifted his arms to take the pressure off his shackled wrists. “You order one more execution, and you’ll tip this province over the edge. Those people burning the city down? They’re not after our blood.”
The courtiers fidgeted and murmured to each other behind their hands. What? What’s he talking about? People are burning the city down?
“You know what?” Hector nodded and sucked his teeth. “I understand.”
“Do you?”
“I do.” Hector kept nodding as he rose from his throne. “You’re older. You’ve got a little military experience. You think you’re big enough to pull your prick out and go head-to-head with me.”
Both Marcus and Livia cringed at the idea, but didn’t respond.
“You think you’re the first people to try to get one over on me? Did you seriously think I wouldn’t notice a plot to take my crown?” Hector paced down the polished steps like a character in the Proscenium. “See, you think I’m an idiot, but there’s something you didn’t take into account. I got here all by myself eight years ago. And guess what?” He leaned in so close, his spit misted Marcus’ face. “I win.”
Livia snarled. “Stop showing off. At least tell us how you found out.”
“Livia, don’t,” Marcus began…
“No, by all means.” Hector waved his hand. “Bring her in.”
The guards by the door broke formation and marched through the doorway, and the courtiers grew even more restless as they heard someone struggle in the hall. Hector strode back up the steps and settled on his throne - and the guards wrestled in Hermia, her hair bedraggled and uniform torn.
Livia turned gray with shock. “Hermia?”
“Milady, I’m so sorry,” Hermia blurted out. “Don’t be angry with me.”
“Don’t be angry with you? What in Mira’s name is going on?”
“They came for me in the middle of the night, when I was in bed downstairs. They took me somewhere, the Vincula, or something…”
Livia interrupted. “Who?”
“The palace guards.” Hermia took such shallow breaths, she could barely get a sentence out. “Do you know what he threatened to do to me if I didn’t give you up?”
“And you just did it?” Livia implored her. “How did you even know?”
“I-I…” Hermia stuttered…
“Mira’s blood.” Livia’s face fell. “That was you.”
“I started going through your things about a month ago. You were so perfect, I couldn’t stand it. I wanted you to be doing something wrong.” Hermia rambled and hiccuped, her chin shaking as she went. “And then he found out, I don’t know how, and he-he just…” she gulped and trailed off. “I never wanted it to come to this, I swear. I swear on my mother’s life!”
“All right, that’s enough.” Hector crossed his legs. “Get her out of here.”
“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Hermia bawled, as the guards hustled her out.
“You see?” Hector draped his elbow on the throne arm and studied his fingernails. “You can’t even keep your own maid down. How were you going to handle the throne?”
Livia cringed. “You think this is about us?”
Hector glanced up at her.
Livia shook her head in disgust. “You’re even more of a despot than I thought.”
“Your Majesty, please,” a courtier cut in. “Will you explain what’s going on?”
“He won’t tell you.” Confidence crept into Marcus’ voice. “But I will.”
The front of the throne room hushed, and slowly but surely, it spread to the back.
“What you’re seeing now? You can thank Pontifex Florian for that. But that’s not when it started. It started the day Hector was born.” Marcus turned back to Hector with an accusatory stare. “An idle life in a country house? That wasn’t good enough for you. You were never going to be happy until you had the world by its throat.”
Hector’s face soured again, but the soldiers behind Marcus didn’t move.
“All it took was a little dirty work, and the throne was as good as yours. Why? Why not? You wanted it. Wasn’t that reason enough?” Marcus’ voice began to grow hoarse, but he pressed on. “And your whole court held their noses while you dragged this province through the mud - so when things started getting violent, they couldn’t even smell the smoke.”
The courtiers eyed each other with suspicion, as if to ask, was that me? Was that you?
“You can kill me, or throw me in prison, or take away my rank. But they know now. You’re at the mercy of the one thing you can’t control.” Marcus walked forward, and his chin raised higher with every step he took. “And you can cover your ears and shut your windows all you want. They’re coming.” His eyebrows plunged. “It’s just a matter of time.”
Another uncomfortable murmur rumbled through the crowd, until the whole throne room simmered with palpable discontent. Some of the courtiers turned up their eyebrows, and some squirmed and craned their necks - and some just looked inconvenienced, like Marcus had spoiled their day.
“Fine.” Hector leaned against the laurel-wreathed clamshell on the back of his throne. “If you want to be a martyr that much, you’ve given me no choice.”
Livia’s stomach dropped, and without thinking, she whispered no.
“General Marcus Incipio, I strip you of your rank, and sentence you to death by beheading tomorrow at the break of dawn.” Hector recited the sentence in a voice that echoed off the walls. “Take him to the Vincula. Don’t let him out of your sight.”
Livia choke
d. Marcus went pale. The courtiers let out a collective gasp.
“Your Majesty!” One of the soldiers hollered. “What about Livia?”
“Throw her in a cell, too.” Hector got up. “I’ll think of something else for her.”
Livia shoved the soldier away and cried out with desperate fury. “No!”
“You want a revolution?” Hector’s voice dropped. “I’ll give you one.”
Hector strode around his throne with a dramatic swish of his cloak, and the soldiers descended on Marcus and Livia to drag them off. Livia thrashed and struggled, but soon, the soldiers overpowered her - and when something dull hit the back of her head, everything went black.
CHAPTER 21
Livia awoke in the dark, damp corner of a cell, as the hobnailed boots of a guard paced up and down the hall.
Her ears rang as she rolled over on the cold floor and rubbed her eyes, and she grimaced and brushed the straw off her back as she sat up. When she finally got her bearings, she found a bucket lying near her feet - and when she noticed the bars in front of her, she realized something was wrong.
Livia scrambled to the front and gazed out at the rough stone walls, and her heart throbbed with an old, primal fear as she remembered when she’d seen them before. First at twelve, for stealing an apple and a loaf of bread to feed herself. Next at thirteen, for hitting a priest to buy another urchin time to run. Sixteen for vandalism, eighteen for biting a man who threatened her on a moonless night - always in a rough-hewn tunic, always in a small, dank cell.
Livia grabbed the cold, solid bars and rattled them. “Hello?!”
But no one answered her, so she let go and slunk away.
Oh, gods. She cupped her hand over her mouth. I have to get out of here.
And then she heard a down-up-down whistle from the cell across from her.
Livia’s heart skipped, and she held onto the bars again. “Hamid?”
Hamid answered somewhere in the dark. “Shh! I don’t know when that guard is coming back.”
Sure enough, the guard poked his head around the corner to check on her - and as soon as he disappeared again, Livia spoke in a frantic hush.
“What are you doing here?” She asked.
“What do you think? I’m here to get you out.”
“I don’t understand.” Livia turned up her eyebrows. “You said I was on my own.”
“That was before I saw what you did.”
Livia pressed her forehead to the bars. “What?”
Hamid emerged from the shadows. “I like being on the right side of a revolution.”
The guard trudged down the hall beside them and banged on a cell, and Livia and Hamid held their breath until he walked away.
“People heard what Hector did,” Hamid murmured. “They’re rioting in the streets.”
“I saw some of it when we came back.”
“That’s nothing. Now they’re tearing buildings down.” Hamid shifted around until he found a comfortable spot on the floor. “I don’t know how, but word got around about an ‘Operation Nightfall.’ There was a fight at the docks. The soldiers escaped before they could be shipped out.”
“Mira’s blood.” Livia rubbed her head. “How long have I been here?”
“About a day.” Hamid studied the ceiling. “It’s the middle of the night.”
“How?” Livia scowled and rubbed the back of her head. “Was I drugged?”
“I don’t know. I’m not sure how else you could’ve been out for that long.”
Livia craned her neck forward and listened for signs of life, and heard a second guard make his rounds, then head back up the stairs. She ran through all her past escapes to piece together what she could do - and her chest tightened as she remembered what had happened hours before.
“Marcus. Where’s Marcus?” Livia’s fingers curled around the bars. “Have you heard anything?”
“I have. I know where they’re keeping him.”
Livia asked without hesitating, “Where?”
“He’s in a room by himself at the very top of this cellblock. It’s three floors up from here.” Hamid’s eyes darted back and forth. “Four guards on the stairs. Eight on each level. Three in front of his door. He’s guarded like the royal vault. I think Hector’s afraid of him.”
Livia chewed her lip. “He should be.”
“I can get you to him, but I need your help.”
“What can I do?”
“Just follow my lead.”
“Sounds good.” Livia climbed up on the balls of her feet. “Let’s go.”
“What do you say?” Hamid shot her a cheeky smirk. “Like old times?”
Livia smiled a little. “Like old times.”
Hamid backed away. “All right. Distract that guard.”
Livia stood up and waited for the guard to show himself, and Hamid reached in his belt pouch as he retreated into the dark. When Hamid had disappeared and the wandering guard came back around, she rattled her bars again - this time, loud enough for the whole floor to hear.
“Hello? Is anyone there?!” She yelled.
The guard barked back, “Quiet down!”
Livia kicked the bars. “Get over here and say that to my face!”
The guard sighed, adjusted his belt, and shuffled over to Livia’s cell.
“What am I doing in here?” Livia spat, gesturing to her pile of straw.
The guard sighed and rubbed his neck. “Am I gonna have a problem with you?”
“I’m going to have a problem with you if you don’t let me out!”
“If I had a silver for every time I heard that, I’d be king myself.”
Hamid produced a pin from his armor and stuck his hands through the bars, and maneuvered the pin into the lock as he kept an eye on the guard.
“Wait a minute.” The guard squinted at Livia. “You’re Incipio’s lover, aren’t you?”
“General Incipio is my lover. Now let me out of this cell!”
Hamid kept fiddling with the lock, and nodded to Livia to say keep it up.
“Look, I’m sure they used to pat you on the ass all the time at court, but you’re an accessory to treason now. Your life is about to get real rough.” The guard gripped the dagger on his hip just to intimidate her. “If you didn’t want to end up here, you shouldn’t have done it in the first place. Don’t come crying ‘cause you’re being punished for doing something wrong.”
“I don’t have to put up with this.” Livia gave him a venomous look through the bars. “I don’t! I don’t have to take this from you. As a prisoner, I have rights.”
The guard scoffed. “Not since King Hector got rid of the judex. You don’t have shit.”
“King Hector sacking the judex was a violation of Histrian law!”
“What are you, a professor? Shut up and let me get back to work.”
“Your mother should be ashamed of you!”
The guard squared his shoulders. “All right, if you talk back one more time…”
But before the guard could finish, Hamid pounced out of the cell.
The guard gasped and struggled as Hamid hooked his arm around his neck, then closed with the crook of his elbow and squeezed the back of the guard’s head. The guard kicked and squirmed, but in seconds, he gurgled and went limp, and Hamid yanked the dagger out of the guard’s belt as he crumpled to the floor.
“Did you kill him?” Livia asked.
“No. Just cut off the blood to his head.” Hamid tossed Livia the dagger, then snatched the guard’s keys and unlocked her cell. “He won’t be out for long. Come on!”
“Wait.”
Hamid turned around. “What?”
Livia cut two strips off the back of his tunic. “For when he wakes up.”
Livia bound and gagged the guard and rolled him onto his side, then swiped the keys from Hamid and kicked the guard into her empty cell. She swung the door shut and locked it, jiggled the key, and pulled it out, and after shaking the door for good measure, she hurried to Hamid�
�s side.
Livia stuck the dagger in her rope belt and stole one more glance at the cell. “There.”
Hamid marveled at her as the guard groaned.
Livia bolted toward the stairway. “Let’s go!”
•••
The two of them hugged the corners as they climbed the winding stairs, past square landings and torches that flickered on their iron mounts.
“What’s the guard schedule look like?” Livia asked. “There has to be a shift change.”
“We’re on it now. That’s why there’s no one guarding the stairs.” Hamid flattened himself against the wall and squinted around the corner. “I’m not sure how we’re going to get out, though. I’ve never seen the Vincula this locked down.”
“Because of the riots?”
“That and Marcus. Hector’s not taking any chances with him.”
Hamid slunk deeper into the shadows as they heard footsteps - and when the guard disappeared, the two of them continued up the stairs.
“I warn you,” Hamid told her, “I may not be able to do that every time.”
“What do you mean?”
Hamid kept climbing. “I mean we may have to kill some of these guards.”
Livia glanced at her dagger. “Don’t worry. If it comes to that, I can.”
“Good. I’m just saying.” Hamid started up the next flight. “It may be you or them.”
When they reached the second floor, Hamid gestured for Livia to stop, then craned his neck through the doorway to check for any oncoming guards. He found none, so he waved her over and darted into the light. Livia followed, and the two of them took cover on the nearest wall. Hamid slipped down the long passage, his feet feather-light on the floor - and Livia tiptoed behind him, checking over her shoulder as they went.
Hamid nodded to the nearby torch to ask, how many guards?
Livia peeked, then signaled back to him. Two. One left, one right.
Hamid sidestepped a shallow puddle and Livia held her breath, and they cut a wide, circuitous path around the edge of the room. They wound left around a square pillar, then right around the next. They waited two precious seconds for a guard to move, then pressed on. And as they vaulted over a hay bale just inches from the doorway, they heard one of the guards break his pattern and stop behind their backs.