Soon the coliseum in Ellistium had become so renowned that similar structures dedicated to the same purpose had been erected in other Rustannican cities, further compounding the nation’s troubles. And the continual influx of captured skeens and their offspring into the Rustannican society was taking menial jobs away from the hard-pressed phrygian class. Unemployment among the phrygians was nearly rampant. In many ways, the more conquests Rustannica won, the poorer she became.
If the people rioted, Vespasian knew that the Suffragat would surely lose control of the nation. Because of the ever-present war, there were rarely enough legions stationed in the capital to overcome a mass uprising. Vespasian and Lucius secretly suspected that if all the legions were ordered home, even their combined forces would not be able to maintain order for long. And if so many troops were taken away from the front, all would be lost in any event.
Not since thePon Q’tar had stolen the Vagaries flame from Shashida and declared Rustannican independence had the nation’s future been in such peril, and Vespasian knew it. Only a mass infusion of gold would solve the empire’s many problems, allow the war to continue in strength, and help ensure the defeat of the Vigors. Ironically, the only way to get more gold was to wage ever-costlier campaigns. And so the dangerous spiral went round and round, threatening to engulf the nation once and for all.
Vespasian lowered the treasury report to the floor, then looked around the chamber. The people sitting before him were the most gifted and dedicated that Rustannica had to offer. Even so, the burden of finding a solution rested largely on his own shoulders. A plan to see his nation through her troubles had been forming in his mind for some time. It was risky, and it could easily mean the end of the empire should it fail. But if it worked, victory might finally be at hand.
As the Suffragat waited, Vespasian rose from his chair and started pacing. The room was silent save for the sound of the emperor’s sandals on the polished turquoise floor. Because today’s games would start soon, he was attired much the same as yesterday, as were the others.
As was often his habit, Vespasian drew his sword and he placed the flat side of its blade behind his neck and across his shoulders. In one hand he held the hilt, while the sword point balanced delicately against the fingertips of his other hand. Finally he stopped pacing and turned to look at Lucius and Persephone. Then he regarded the entire Suffragat.
“The treasury report is indeed distressing,” he said. “We have tried everything we could think of to increase the treasury count, but all our ideas have failed. If we raise taxes again I fear an outright revolt-one that our home legions won’t be able to put down. Therefore I have a question for thePon Q’tar, and you clerics must be sure of your answer. The future of our empire might hinge on it.” As Vespasian looked directly at Gracchus, the lead cleric calmly returned his emperor’s stare.
“All your efforts to destroy the reigningJin’Sai and his Conclave have failed,” Vespasian went on. “Although he and his sister remain untrained in the craft and his mystics are supposedly far less gifted than we, they have defeated your plans at every turn. I understand that our direct intervention east of the Tolenkas is impossible, or theJin’Sai and his followers would be long dead. Destroying him and his sister and crushing their Conclave are important issues, but they remain the lesser of our battles. Even so, the Coven of Sorceresses, theJin’Sai ’s son Nicolas, and Wulfgar and Serena were all bested by him despite your learned counsel. Make no mistake-I have no fear either of him or of those winged abominations that he inherited from Failee. We could crush their depleted ranks in hours. No, fellow members of the Suffragat-it’s hisblood that I fear, and his willingness to destroy the Vagaries so that his side of the craft might rule. He and the Shashidans share this terrible dream. Rustannica is threatened by their pestilence and stands alone against it. This is what thePon Q’tar has taught me from the moment of my birth, and so this is what I believe.”
Sheathing his sword, Vespasian walked closer toward the section holding thePon Q’tar. Only after looking at each male and female member did he again speak.
“And so, my friends, before I announce my plan I must know something,” Vespasian said quietly. “Even though theJin’Sai twice navigated the azure pass and spent time with the traitorous Envoys of Crysenium, are you sure-absolutelysure- that he and his forces cannot cross the Tolenkas? If the Suffragat ratifies my proposal, I have no wish to suddenly find our legions fighting a war on two fronts.”
Gracchus stood and gripped the shoulder folds of his white and burgundy robe. He gave Vespasian a confident look.
“I can speak for the entirePon Q’tar on this matter, Highness,” he said. “TheJin’Sai cannot cross-of that we are certain! The Oraculum agrees. If we in our majesty have not found a way, then an untrained prince and his ragtag Conclave certainly cannot! Whatever action you have in mind, rest assured that you may proceed without interference from theJin’Sai. ”
Taking a deep breath, Vespasian walked back and took his seat. Each time he sat there facing the Suffragat he felt isolated and on display-as if it was his will pitted against theirs. The emperor’s chair had been placed there for exactly that reason, he knew. It was but one of the many prices to be paid for holding such immense power.
“May we now inquire about Your Highness’s plan?” Gracchus asked. As the Suffragat waited, the Aedifficium grew silent as a tomb.
“Our gold mines are nearly depleted,” Vespasian said quietly. “And the Shashidan gold hoards can seemingly be moved quickly, making their capture nearly impossible. But the Shashidangold mines cannot. I want to make a final, all-or-nothing thrust deep into Shashida and take the mines. I intend to lead the campaign personally.”
For several long moments no one spoke. Lucius turned to Persephone and he raised an eyebrow. The empress’s astonishment was apparent. As she tried to compose herself, she leaned closer.
“Did you…know about this?” she whispered. She was so stunned that she could barely get the words out.
Lucius shook his head. “No,” he whispered back. “But I have guessed for some time that something weighs heavily on his mind. Now we know what it is.”
Persephone’s worry became so great that her eyes shone with tears. Knowing that she needed to be strong for her husband, she quickly blinked them away.
“You are his First Tribune,” she whispered. “Can we really do this thing, Lucius? Can our legions take the Shashidan mines?”
Lucius narrowed his eyes and rubbed his chin. “That remains to be seen,” he answered. “But I know one thing.”
“What is that?” Persephone whispered.
“Like Vespasian, I believe that taking the Shashidan gold mines is the only course of action left to us. If we don’t, the treasury will soon be bankrupt. Our ability to wage war will come to a complete standstill and the Vigors will prevail.”
Persephone clearly understood the immense historical importance of Vespasian’s proposal. The Shashidan mines were deep in enemy territory and had long been considered unassailable. For the Rustannican legions to fight their way there would be difficult enough. But to also take the mines and occupy the surrounding lands would require a miracle.
She also knew that Vespasian was not the first emperor to offer such a plan, but in each case the proposal had been voted down because of the staggering cost and hugely long odds. But it wasn’t some previous emperor who had again proposed this great adventure. It had been Vespasian Augustus I, whose birth and supremely endowed blood were shrouded in mystery and awe.
Even Persephone had to admit that she did not fully comprehend Vespasian’s magical powers. Moreover, Vespasian commanded the overwhelming respect and devotion of his legions like no emperor before him. He had fought with them, drunk with them, laughed and cried with them, and helped to bury their dead. At his word they would follow him to certain death, if need be. This would be a campaign of staggering, unprecedented importance, and its outcome would permit no middle ground. The empire would ei
ther survive or fall, and Vespasian’s leadership would be the fulcrum on which the scales of history would tip.
Suddenly Persephone’s more personal concerns began crowding in. A campaign of this extent could take years, she realized. Her loneliness in Vespasian’s absence would be devastating. More important, because she had produced no heir, should Vespasian be killed, Rustannican law dictated that she would rule in his stead until she died or became too feeble to continue. Then the Suffragat would choose a new ruler to fill the power vacuum.
But if Vespasian was killed and his campaign collapsed, what sort of shambles would remain for her to govern? she wondered. Financing this special assault would surely use up most of the remaining treasury funds. If the drive failed and the Rustannican treasury was bankrupted, Ellistium would burst into an uncontrollable riot. Worse, within a matter of months Shashidan hordes would mass outside the city walls. The decimated legions would surely be insufficient to drive them back.
Amid the deafening silence of the Suffragat, Persephone again looked at her beloved husband. He returned a gaze of grim determination mixed with the hint of a secret apology for not having taken her into his confidence sooner. While she nodded her undying support, she found herself wiping away another tear.
The Suffragat strenuously debated the wisdom of Vespasian’s proposal for more than two hours. After each group had voiced its opinion, Vespasian again grasped his scepter and banged it on the floor.
“What say you all?” he asked. “May we now vote?”
Gracchus stood. “Before we do, we of thePon Q’tar must ask whether a battle plan has been drawn up for this undertaking,” he said. “If it has, we demand to see it.”
Vespasian shook his head. “As yet there is no battle plan,” he answered firmly. “My reasons for not ordering one are simple. Given its great importance, I wish the plan to be drawn up and approved by the entire Suffragat, rather than only the military. I have but one demand. Once we are in the field, I reserve the right to change any tactics I deem necessary to ensure our success.”
“In that case, thePon Q’tar agrees that the proposal should be voted on,” Gracchus answered. “But if a suitable battle plan cannot be formulated, thePon Q’tar reserves the right to demand another vote-one that would call for the total abandonment of the campaign. We will of course demand that the First Mistress of the Priory perform the auspiciums to divine our fortune in this endeavor. A favorable answer would go far in convincing the populace of our eventual victory. And there is one other thing upon which we must insist. Should this campaign become a reality, we believe that the Oraculum should be brought along as well. This sets a precedent, we realize, but her visions might be of great use to us.”
“The tribunes agree,” Lucius said.
“As does the Priory,” Julia Idaeus added.
Vespasian nodded. “Very well,” he said. “Send the skeens to retrieve the plaques.”
With a quick hand signal from Gracchus, each skeen ran to one corner of the Aedifficium. There sat an ivory chest, its sides and top emblazoned with golden eagles. Opening the chest, the skeens removed dozens of gleaming onyx and ivory plaques, each about the size and thickness of a man’s hand. One black plaque and one white plaque was delivered to each voting member of the Suffragat. However important or complex a motion might be, voting was a simple process. No secret votes or abstentions were allowed. A white plaque meant yes; a black one meant no.
When the members had been given their plaques, Vespasian looked toward the Suffragat as a whole. “The voting may begin,” he said simply.
At once the air filled with plaques as the members cast their votes. As the plaques levitated, Vespasian held his breath.
Not a single black plaque hung in the air. Because there would be no need for a formal count, the members recalled their plaques. As they recognized the full import of what they had done, the Suffragat members went silent again.
Vespasian was astounded. In the entire history of the empire, only two other votes had been unanimous, and those had been “black-plaqued.” This had indeed been history in the making.
“The motion is passed,” Vespasian announced. “So that all three factions of the Suffragat might be represented, Gracchus, Lucius, and Julia, to you I delegate the responsibility of starting work on the battle plan. Leave no stone unturned.”
Pleased beyond measure, Vespasian nodded. “This session is adjourned,” he said. “But before we leave for the games, we have one more responsibility.”
As Vespasian stood from his chair, Benedik Pryam edged closer toward Gracchus.
“It seems that we finally have our great campaign, after all,” he said quietly. “And just as we hoped, it was Vespasian’s idea. I pray that thePon Q’tar and this amazing emperor that we have created are equal to the task…”
Gracchus smiled. “All in good time, my friend,” he answered. “We have taken a greater victory from this day than we could have possibly wished for. I suggest that we go to the arena, drink some wine, and watch more skeens die-for we will soon be on the battlefield.”
“Do you mean to say that we are going to accompany him?” Benedik demanded.
Gracchus nodded. “Given that he so cleverly demanded the right to alter the campaign on his sole authority at any time, I’d say that we have little choice,” he answered. “But do not fear. I know how to manage our headstrong young ruler. And if I cannot, well, the battlefield can be a very dangerous place-even for emperors. Besides, once his gifts have won the day, his further usefulness will be questionable.”
Gracchus watched Vespasian walk across the Aedifficium floor. Against the far wall was mounted a golden war lance. Only the emperor was allowed to handle the lance, and it held great significance for the empire. When the lance was brought before the public, its appearance meant only one thing-that a new and important campaign against Shashida had been ratified by the Suffragat.
Vespasian stopped to regard the sacred lance. He had never held it in his hands. The lance’s tip was sharply pointed, and a golden eagle adorned its haft. A gray and white eagle feather dangled from shaft near the tip. Black leather strips were wound around its center, forming a tight gripping surface.
Vespasian reached up and took the lance down from the wall to find that it felt right in his hand. As he marched toward the Aedifficium doors, the entire Suffragat eagerly followed.
Flushed with victory, Vespasian pointed one hand at the massive bronze doors, and they opened quickly. After purposefully striding out onto the massive Aedifficium landing with the Suffragat in tow, he stood among the structure’s huge columns and looked down the hill and out across Ellistium’s massive forum, the city’s great center of trade and commerce. While the Suffragat gathered around him, Persephone and Lucius came to stand by his side.
As was always the case whenever the Suffragat was in session, an eager crowd had gathered on the hill before the Aedifficium steps, waiting to hear news of the meeting. When they saw the war lance in Vespasian’s hand, the crowd joyfully erupted, their rising cheers quickly attracting more curious citizens. Soon the entire area was full to overflowing as the mob eagerly waited for their emperor to speak. When Vespasian lifted the war lance above his head, the crowd went wild.
“The Suffragat has granted you a great campaign!” he shouted.
Gracchus smiled at Benedik. “It seems that our creation can do no wrong,” the lead cleric whispered. “That man was born to end life.”
As Vespasian walked down the hill and toward the coliseum, Persephone took his arm and the Suffragat followed.
In ways that even Vespasian could not have imagined, the die was cast.
CHAPTER VI
HIS NAME WAS ROLF OF THE HOUSE OF BRIGHAM, AND he had hunted the length and breadth of Eutracia’s Hartwick Wood since his father had given him his first bow. Many said that these glens and gullies were deeply enchanted by the craft. Rumor also had it that the woods were the strict provinces of wizards and sorceresses and that these
regions should never be entered, lest an intruder come to some dark harm. It was also said that an ancient cave lay in the woods, its opening long sealed by mysterious wizards. Rolf always smirked whenever he heard those old wives’ tales. He had never seen such a cave, and nothing in these woods had ever harmed him.
Even so, Rolf had more in common with the craft than he realized. Shortly after he was born, some men in dark blue robes had come to his parents’ home and taken a drop of his blood for examination. They had then informed his mother and father that he was of fully endowed blood. At the time, such visits were not unusual, for all newborns were once tested this way. It was needed for the nation’s birth records, the mystics had said.
Shortly after, an official-looking certificate, complete with a royal wax seal, had arrived by messenger from Tammerland. Signed by two Directorate Wizards, it attested to the quality of Rolf’s blood. Being unknowledgeable about the craft, his parents had thought little of the matter and filed the parchment away. Over the years the document somehow escaped to wherever so much of life’s flotsam seems to go and hide, never to be seen again. Taken up as they were with the joy of rearing a child, Rolf’s parents never told him of the wizards’ findings. And because he had never been trained in the craft, his blood showed no signature.
Most of the time, Rolf felt as safe here in these woods as he did on the front porch of his modest farmhouse. He had been ten years old when his father had given him his first bow, and twenty-five more Seasons of New Life had passed since. As he expertly moved across the mossy ground, no sound betrayed him.
Rolf’s father was dead, but the birth of his son Dale had helped to fill the void left by his father’s sudden passing. And as his father had done with him, Rolf started teaching the boy archery at the age of seven. Now that Dale was ten, it was time for the young man to learn the ways of the forest. During the last three years the boy had become an excellent bowman. But hitting a standing target and killing a living creature were two different things, and that realization was not lost on the nervous young hunter as he trod alongside his father. Although his hands shook, the boy was overjoyed that this day of days had finally come.
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