Rebel, Pawn, King

by Morgan Rice

  “We have hurt you. We have taken your property to fund our feasts. We have taken your children to fight our wars. We have killed you as if you are enemies to be destroyed, not subjects to be protected. Well, that stops today.”

  He could feel the change in the crowd below. They were quiet now, listening in something other than fear.

  “The time for bloodshed has passed,” he said. “We fought the rebellion, but the cost of doing so has been your homes and your lives. We cannot restore the dead, but I promise you that my soldiers will rebuild every house burned, restore every home stolen.”

  That got a murmur from the crowd, as if they couldn’t quite believe what they were hearing. That, more than anything, told Claudius just how necessary this was.

  “There will be no more arbitrary seizures of your goods, or of you,” the king said. “From now on, the old tithes will be restored, and no more than that will be taken.”

  That got a sound of approval.

  “As for what is left of the rebellion, I have realized that when it comes to our enemies, we have a choice: we can destroy them utterly, or we can make them our friends. The second option always struck me as a sign of weakness, and as a thing that would invite our own destruction. Yet now I believe that it is continuing this pointless war that is tearing us apart. As of today, any rebels who were taken are to be freed, and no vengeance will be sought for the war.”

  That did get a cheer, and a bigger one than Claudius had heard in a long time. He’d heard cheers after battles and cheers forced from the lips of obedient townsfolk. This, though, was more than that. It was the cheer of a people realizing that a heavy yoke was being taken from around their neck. It was the cheer of a people who had just been told that they were going to be free.

  For that to be true, though, at least one more thing had to change.

  “With me,” he said to his bodyguard. “There is still work to do today.”

  “Where to, your majesty?” the man asked.

  “The hall of scholars,” Claudius replied. “Old Cosmas and I need to talk.”

  It had been a long time since he had made the journey down through the castle towards its library. As a young man, he had read the tomes of every learned scholar, from the tacticians to the philosophers. He had stared at maps of the lands beyond the sea, wondering what it would be like in the deserts of Felldust or the pirate lanes of the Free Cities.

  As he’d grown older, responsibilities had gotten in the way. He’d had an empire to rule. There had been no time left for reading, or for the kind of studies Old Cosmas had always wanted to push him into.

  It took a while to get down to the hall of scholars. Plenty of time in which Claudius could have reconsidered what he was going to do next, yet every step only made him more certain that it was the right thing to do. Even the cheers of the crowd below said that, echoing as they still did down the corridors of the castle.

  “I built one legacy,” he said to himself. “I can build another.”

  “Your majesty?” his bodyguard said.

  Claudius shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. What’s your name, soldier?”

  “Krin, your majesty.”

  “And you’ve served me how long?”

  “Close to ten years, your majesty.”

  Close to ten years, and Claudius didn’t know his name. Yes, there were a lot of things that needed to change.

  He reached the doors to the hall of scholars, stepping inside and looking around at the piles of books and scrolls. He spotted Cosmas toward the back, working on what was probably a copy of an original scroll, or perhaps on some fragment of his ongoing work on comparing long dead languages.

  “Wait outside,” Claudius told Krin. The bodyguard nodded, and went to the door. Still, the royal scholar didn’t look up. “Cosmas? Cosmas.”

  “Hmm… oh, I beg your pardon, your majesty. Have you been there long?”

  He wouldn’t have accepted it from anyone else, but Cosmas had always been this way. “Not long. Are you working on anything in particular?”

  “I found a tract on the pictographs of the valley people of the Lesser Dust,” Cosmas replied. “I believe we talked about them once. They have the most fascinating burial customs.”

  Probably they had spoken about it, at some long forgotten point in the past. It was the kind of thing that Cosmas had a good memory for, while a thousand and one things had happened to Claudius since then.

  “But that is not what you’ve come to me for, I imagine,” Cosmas said. Claudius watched while he set aside his stylus. “How may an old scholar help you, your majesty?”

  Claudius took a breath. “A long time ago, I came to you and I ordered records erased, lost, reordered. You did as I commanded, but I imagine it must have pained you to do it, Cosmas.”

  “To follow the instructions of my king?” Cosmas replied. He bowed his head slightly. “Yes, it was… testing to my commitment to knowledge to help hide it.”

  “You did it anyway, though,” Claudius said. Now was the moment. “What if I asked you to undo it?”

  “What exactly are you commanding?” Cosmas asked, and Claudius could hear the caution there. Of course he could. This was something he’d forbidden the old man to speak of to anyone.

  “I have been thinking a lot since Lord West came to me,” he said.

  “They say he walked to the block bravely,” Cosmas replied.

  Claudius shook his head. “Of course he did, but it should never have come to that. I have hidden too much, from myself, and from the world. I wish to acknowledge my son.”

  He watched the rise of Cosmas’s eyebrows. “Your son?”

  Claudius could understand the reticence, but this was a time to act, not wait. “Let’s not play games, Cosmas. I want you to write Thanos back into the lineage of the Empire, where he belongs. I wish it to be known that he is my son. My firstborn son.”

  Cosmas drummed his fingers on his desk. “You are aware, your majesty, that this would make him… your heir?”

  An act that would come with consequences, no doubt; not least Athena’s disapproval. Yet the truth was that all actions had consequences, and those of the actions he’d taken all those years ago had twisted the whole course of the Empire since. With Thanos as his heir, perhaps there would have been no uprising. Perhaps everything would have been different.

  “I know what it will mean,” Claudius said. “It will mean that everything changes. It will mean that nothing will be the same again. Sometimes, though, things need to change, and things here have needed to for a long time. Give Thanos the place he deserves in the records of the Empire.”

  “Of course, your majesty,” Cosmas intoned, reaching for his stylus once again.

  “Thank you,” Claudius said, although he’d always thought that kings didn’t thank people for doing what they were commanded. Perhaps it was time to change that too. “If you need me, I will be back in my chambers, dealing with the other half of this.”

  “The other half of this, your majesty?”

  Claudius nodded.

  “I need to summon my other son and tell him.”

  “Tell him what, your majesty?”

  There came a long silence, and finally Claudius replied.

  “That he is no longer my heir.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Stephania sat alone in her chambers, looking out over the city, holding the small vial up to the light, as a tear ran down her cheek. She pondered the clear liquid, wondering, debating.

  It was the same spot where she’d been sitting when Lucious had come to her to offer it to her. Take this, he’d said, and she would no longer be carrying Thanos’s child. Take this, he’d said, and she would be free to form the marriage alliance with him he wanted.

  The thought of that made Stephania feel sick, and not just in the ways that had been plaguing her since the start of this pregnancy. She knew what Lucious was better than anyone. The thought of marriage to him was abhorrent, vile. The fact that he’d tried
to woo her rather than simply forcing himself on her the way he usually did with women barely made it better. Any relationship with him would not be a thing of equals, whatever he said.

  Yet Stephania still found herself considering the vial.

  Part of it was that she could see which way the wind was blowing. Lucious had all but won the war against the rebellion. He would be the next king and Stephania suspected that his good will toward her would only last so long. Perhaps her only option was to side with him, however much she despised him.

  Then there was the other object of her hatred, her love… Stephania still wasn’t sure where one stopped and the other began. Thanos had abandoned her. How much would it hurt him to know that she had aborted their child? To know that she had done it because he had walked away?

  Stephania opened the vial, sniffing at it. She had already tested it to make sure that it was what Lucious claimed it to be. She wouldn’t put it past him to poison her, and make it look as though she’d killed herself out of grief. Yet there was no reason for him to do that when he could simply have revealed her role in Thanos’s escape, or let her go.

  One long draught and it would be done. Stephania lifted the vial in a silent toast. Only a knock at the door interrupted her.

  “What is it?” Stephania demanded, corking the vial and setting it down.

  One of her hand maidens entered. This one was called… Elethe, wasn’t she? A girl with soft tan skin, dark eyes, and delicately painted designs on each cheek that varied by the day. She’d been a traveler from Felldust who had made herself useful at court, and quickly found a place in Stephania’s entourage. She made an adequate replacement for those lost in the attempts to free Thanos. Not that Lucious had executed any, but the ones who had given away her secrets couldn’t be trusted again, could they?

  “My lady,” the girl said. “There have been reports coming in that we thought you would want to hear about.”

  Stephania dragged her attention away from thoughts of revenge. “What have you heard?”

  “There are several things, my lady,” Elethe said. She closed her eyes, and Stephania guessed that she was getting things in order. She liked her girls to keep information in their heads so that there would be no traces. “First, you should know that messages have come in suggesting that Prince Thanos is returning to Delos.”

  Stephania’s breath caught at that, and she hated the way a part of her responded with happiness even after all he’d done. “You’re certain?”

  “Some of the messages came from Haylon, where he had traveled. There was also a bird from fishers in the waters beyond the city.”

  So, Thanos was coming back. Stephania tried to work out what that meant, both for her and for Delos. She could think of the obvious reason why he would have returned, of course.

  “Ceres,” she said. “He’s come back for Ceres.”

  Just the thought of that made anger rise in her, fresh and hot. Only the thought that Lucious had probably had Ceres killed by now made her hold back. When Elethe cleared her throat, Stephania caught her with a glare so harsh that the woman took a step back.

  “What?” she demanded.

  “There’s more, my lady. Obviously we do not have the contacts with the guards that we did…”

  Because Stephania had already expended most of her favors among the guards getting Thanos out, and because the guards were more cautious now.

  “But it seems,” Elethe went on, “that Ceres has escaped. The rumor is that there are now four statues where guards attempted to kill her.”

  “Blood of the Ancient Ones,” Stephania said, making a curse out of it even though it was really nothing more than an observation. She should have known that Ceres wouldn’t be so easily contained. The simple fact of her capture had seemed like proof that these things could be stopped.

  She should have known better. Ceres had escaped once. Of course she would escape again. She should have made sure.

  Looking at Elethe, though, she could see that wasn’t everything the girl had to say.

  “There’s more?” she said.

  Her handmaiden nodded. “The king… the king has made an announcement. In public, he has said that he intends to undo many of the harsh measures put in place to counter the rebellion. He did not mention Prince Lucious’s new Killings in the Stade, but he spoke on many other matters.”

  “And in private?” Stephania asked.

  “One of the others was listening near the Hall of Scholars. She heard the king order Cosmas to put Thanos back in the records… as his firstborn son. He intends to make him his heir, and he has sent for Lucious.”

  Somehow, that fact was the one that pushed Stephania over the edge of her anger. She picked up the vial Lucious had given her, intending to gulp it down, then stopped. She stepped over to her room’s balcony, then flung it from herself, so that it glittered for a moment in the sunlight before arching down to the cobbles below. If servants looked up in surprise, they at least had the sense not to say anything.

  “My lady?” Elethe said. “Are you well?”

  “Well?” Stephania rounded on her. She backhanded her handmaiden, feeling the crack of her knuckles across the girl’s cheek. “You’ve just told me that at the point when it seemed as though things might finally be settled, everything has changed, and you ask me if I’m well?”

  “I… forgive me, my lady.” Elethe was on her knees. Good. It was nice to know that at least someone there was going to remember that Stephania still had some power.

  Stephania touched the spot she’d struck, as gently as she could. “No, forgive me. I know that you are loyal to me, aren’t you?”

  “Completely. I will do whatever you require, my lady.”

  One day, Stephania would probably test that. For now, though, she had simpler requests. She’d spent too much time acting based on her emotions, as if she were some kind of animal, or worse, like Lucious. How would he be taking the news that he wasn’t heir? Did he even know yet? Following her emotions had been the mistake she’d made with trying to help Thanos. If she’d just been ruthless about it when she had the chance, none of this would have happened.

  Well, now was the time to make up for that.

  “Bring me writing materials,” Stephania said.

  The girl did, and Stephania set to work, laying them out in front of her, dipping a quill in ink and trying to think of the words that would have the greatest effect. They were such subtle weapons, used well. They couldn’t cut through flesh or stop hearts, but they could persuade people to do both those things, and they could certainly break a heart.

  It was just a matter of working out what to write. Stephania smiled to herself at the thought that the most effective approach to this would probably be the simplest. Most of the time, she did her work through secrecy and lies, but people sometimes underestimated just how big a weapon the truth could be, if set out the right way.

  So Stephania set it out, step by step. The fact that Thanos was returning. The conjecture that the king intended to give him the throne. From there, it was only a small step to make it sound less like a reconciliation and more like an attempt to destroy the natural order of things. She didn’t include any suggestions as to what to do about it, of course. That would have been a step too far, and Stephania had learned the hard way that her intended recipient didn’t take well to being told what to do.

  Besides, she didn’t need to. She could guess at Lucious’s reactions, as easily as she could guess what would happen if she threw a hawk into a dovecote. She’d had enough of being stuck here, reacting to events, caught first by Thanos’s failure to tell her everything and then by Lucious’s machinations.

  It was time to start taking control of things again.

  “Take this letter and have one of the others deliver it to Lucious,” Stephania said. “Do not do it yourself, because he will be angry once he reads it, and I will have better things for you to do than being hurt by him. Send one of the girls who spoke too much before. Let th
em think they’re regaining my trust.”

  He would probably torture whoever she sent, just to prove that he could. Or maybe he would think that the girl was a conduit to her thoughts. Yes, that had possibilities, and Stephania was enjoying the fact that she was seeing those possibilities again. She was coming back to herself, the weakness that had come from her love for Thanos forgotten.

  If she set Thanos and Lucious against one another, with the king in the middle, she was the only one guaranteed to come out as a winner. She was carrying the heir to the throne’s child, but she was also the one to warn Lucious. But she wanted to make sure.

  “We still have enough watchers to tell us when Thanos approaches the docks?” Stephania asked.

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Then you will be going to him. Come here, let me see you.”

  Elethe stood before her, and Stephania considered the look that she required. The blow she’d delivered before was blooming nicely into a bruise. She reached out thoughtfully and tore the girl’s dress with a jerk. Yes, that was better. She could have done more, but it was best to be subtle about these things.

  “Perfect,” Stephania said. “The bruise will make this work nicely.”

  Better to let the girl think that it was all part of a plan than that Stephania had simply lashed out. It would do more to secure her loyalty.

  “There are things I require you to say to Thanos,” Stephania said. “Things I want you to be sure you remember.” She leaned forward and whispered, even though she could have spoken. It reinforced how much she was taking the girl into her confidence. Stephania smiled at how easily all this was coming back to her. She would not sit there and be helpless. She would not be defeated like this.

  “Do you understand?” Stephania asked when she was done.

  “I will remember every word,” Elethe said.

  “You must do more than that. You must convince him. You can do that, can’t you? I would hate to think I’d put my trust in the wrong person.”