The room she chose was devoted to a group of Rustannican painters known as the Ravennans. Ravenna was a small town in the south of Rustannica known for its magnificent sunlight and colorful foliage, especially during the Season of Harvest. The Ravennan painters had been a tightly knit group, never numbering more than twelve. Painting some two centuries ago, they displayed an uncanny ability to capture dappled sunlight while showing wholesome themes of hard work and loyalty to the Rustannican Empire. These patriotic qualities had quickly brought their work into favor with the ever-watchfulPon Q’tar. Like so many other aspects of Rustannican culture, all artwork was subject to the approval of the clerics before it could be sold privately or displayed in public. Conversely, all captured Shashidan artwork was immediately deemed degenerate and summarily destroyed by whatever legions came across it.
Despite Rustannica’s brutal nature, the Ravennans depicted their warlike nation as compassionate. Each brushstroke added layer on layer to the great hoax that was Rustannica. Only Julia and thePon Q’tar knew the truth about the craft, but thePon Q’tar had yet to learn that Julia was aware of it. It was that same dreaded secret that gave her the courage to come here once each month. Just the same, she lived with the constant fear of being found out, tortured, and killed.
As she looked at the paintings, Julia saw the same sanitized agenda over and over again, and she hated the Ravennans for it. These works mirrored the great lie, leading her to understand why thePon Q’tar valued them so much. Like a painter who reused a canvas to cover a failed effort, Julia was painfully aware of the ugly truth that lay beneath thePon Q’tar ’s treachery and deceit.
As she started to sketch the painting before her, her sense of revulsion grew. Her well-known pastime of sketching was nothing more than an excuse to leave the Priory and come here. She had chosen this place for her excursions precisely because she hated it so, and she frequented the Ravennan room because of all the chambers here, she hated this display the most. The military exhibitions were gruesome, but at least their depictions were honest. But here in the Ravennan room, surrounded with charming lies made of paint and canvas, Julia was best reminded of her intense hatred of all things Rustannican and the importance of her mission. For Julia Idaeus was far more than the reigning Femiculi.
She was a Shashidan spy and a member of the League of Whispers, embedded into the highest reaches of the Rustannican government.
As she sketched, people wandered by but left her alone. She was known here, and most visitors respected her privacy. That was another reason why the Hall of Antiquities was the perfect choice for her assignations. Because this was a public place, even the deeply suspiciousPon Q’tar would never suspect that something so damaging to their cause might happen within these walls. Her hatred for this place and all it represented was the perfect fuel for her passionate devotion to the Vigors cause.
Closing her eyes for a moment, she called the craft.
“I am here,” she said silently.
“We hear you,” the many voices answered in her mind. Their harmonious timbre was reassuring. “Are you well?” they asked.
“Yes,” she answered.“There is much to tell you.”
“And there is much for us to tell you, child. Is your secret still safe?”
“Yes.”
“Then you may continue.”
For the next quarter hour Julia silently communed with her Vigors masters over vast distances incomprehensible to the average mind. She told them everything, including Vespasian’s impending campaign to take the Shashidan mines and its reasons. When she finished she sat and waited, all the while being sure to glance from time to time at the hated Ravennan landscape and to continue sketching a copy of it.
For a time her masters did not answer, causing a flood of fear to pour through her. Have I been detected? she wondered. Are centurions on the way to arrest me? Then she realized that it must have been the stunning nature of her message that had given her masters pause. When they finally replied, she was greatly relieved.
“Are you sure of these things?” the voices asked.“Defending the mines against such a major attack will be a huge undertaking, and you must be absolutely certain.”
“Without question,” she answered.“Vespasian even allowed me to help form the battle plan.”
Again the masters paused for what seemed an unnerving period. “Tell us of the plan,” the voices finally ordered.
After outlining the campaign, Julia again fell silent, waiting for a response.
“So Vespasian has requested that you go on this quest to perform the auspiciums,” they said.“That will prove useful.”
“Indeed,” Julia answered.
“Does Gracchus continue to subvert the auspiciums to help perpetuate the great hoax?” the many voices asked.
“I believe that he does,” the Femiculi answered.“He is still unaware that I know. I have also been informed that Persephone will accompany Vespasian on the campaign.”
“That is interesting and perhaps useful as well,” the voices said.
“There is more,” Julia continued, fearful that she was pushing the limits of her subterfuge. Since she had sat down, no Rustannican had tried to speak to her. But it would only be a matter of time until some fawning citizen wanting to be seen in the company of the Femiculi came over to address her.
“Vespasian is acting strange,” she told them.“He left the games for no reason two days ago. I believe that he could be ill, but I do not know what is wrong with him.”
“That is also of great interest,” the voices replied.“But time grows short, so we will discuss it more during our next communion. While on the campaign it is imperative that you find a safe place in which to commune with us. Thank you for all that you have told us and for your constant bravery as you continue to serve us from the belly of the beast. Before we leave you, there is something important that you must know. If it happens, the results will be earth-shattering.”
“What is it?” she asked.
“TheJin’Saiand some of his Conclave are about to try to cross the Azure Sea, ” the Ones answered.“They have seen subtle matter for the first time, and they also discovered the message that we left hidden in the Tome and the Scrolls so long ago. Tristan is the first Jin’Saito do so. If he reaches Shashida alive, our world will change forever.”
Julia began to tremble, her shaking hands suddenly drawing unruly lines. It was all she could do to keep from erupting in joy. Finally allowing her tired fingers to rest, she took a deep breath and calmed herself.
“It is time for us to sever our link lest our communion be discovered,” the Ones said.“Stay safe, Julia Idaeus, and remain brave in the face of the many changes that will soon come.”
Even before she could say goodbye, Julia felt the bond between her mind and theirs dissolving, then it was gone. She felt tired but elated. Gathering up her valise, she put away her drawing things and turned to leave the Ravennan chamber. As she walked across the hated room, several Ellistium toadies bowed and scraped to her and attempted to engage her in small talk. But she did not mind, nor did she need to hurry, for hope was finally at hand.
As the Femiculi finally left the Hall of Antiquity to navigate her way back through the busy forum, from behind the protection of her veil she smiled.
CHAPTER XXIV
“IS THERE ANY SIGN OF THE CONCLAVE?” KHRISTOS asked. He gave his lead Blood Viper a stern look. “I must be notified the moment theJin’Sai ’s party is detected.”
The creature hissed and shook his head. “No, my lord,” he answered. “Rest assured that when they arrive, we will be ready to strike. As you have ordered, some of us wait in hiding near the cave entrance. When they approach, we will enter the Caves ahead of them and inform you.”
“Very well,” Khristos answered. “Be sure to report to me the moment they are seen. But do not engage them or otherwise alert them to your presence. Let them enter the Caves peacefully. Only then will we take our revenge.”
“U
nderstood, my lord,” the Blood Viper answered. The creature bowed respectfully, then slithered away with several others of his kind to go about its duties.
As he watched his servants go, Khristos smiled. Before committing the viper embryos to the peaceful river in Hartwick Wood, Failee had enchanted a handful of them with the power of speech. These specially gifted ten would one day serve as Khristos’ captains, she had told him. Because of the Blood Vipers’ extremely violent and nearly uncontrollable natures, Failee feared that allowing all of them to converse with one another might lead to discord, perhaps even rebellion.
Some of these specially gifted ones served as Khristos’ eyes and ears above ground, while the others helped to convey his orders to the multitudes. Those that could talk did so in a hesitant, guttural fashion, reflecting the violent nature of their dark personalities. Despite the vipers’ rather inhuman way of speaking, Khristos smiled as he remembered the late First Mistress’s brilliance. The Blood Vipers were among her precursors to the Minions of Day and Night, Gracchus had said.
How ironic, he thought. The first of Failee’s many attempts to develop the Minions are about to battle the final products. The results should prove interesting.
On entering the caves, Khristos unerringly followed Gracchus’ directions and led his servants to the chamber where they could feast on Nicholas’ glowing eggs. With each egg that they consumed he watched them grow stronger and more willing to kill and die, if need be, in the late First Mistress’s name.
Then Gracchus had again communed with Khristos, ordering him to travel deeper yet into the Caves. Again following the lead cleric’s directions, the Viper Lord led his monsters to the shores of the Azure Sea. From there, supply lines had been established so that more eggs could be delivered to the waiting vipers to feed on and build their strength.
Before communing with Gracchus, Khristos considered ambushing theJin’Sai above ground near the entrance to the Caves. But Gracchus had commanded Khristos to let Tristan enter unharmed, bringing his Black Ships and all of his warriors with him. The process would be time-consuming but worth the wait, thePon Q’tar cleric said.
Only after making sure that the enemy had traveled too far into the bowels of the earth to order an effective retreat would Khristos finally spring his trap and slaughter them all. His superior numbers would savagely overwhelm the Vigors worshippers and the winged beasts they commanded. Then he would enjoy watching Tristan’s precious Black Ships burn.
When theJin’Sai and all of his followers were dead, Khristos would take the fight aboveground again and redirect his rage against theJin’Saiou and those remaining Conclave members and Minion warriors who followed her. With Tristan, his Minions, and half of the Conclave killed, Khristos’ victory in this last struggle would be far more assured.
He would then go on to ransack Tammerland, destroy the royal palace, and tear the Redoubt of the Directorate apart from stem to stern. Moreover, he would burn the Tome and the Vigors Scroll to ashes, ensuring that no endowed person could use them against him. Then his next mission could begin as he and his vipers went on to murder every endowed man, woman, and child of right-leaning blood he could find. Vigors blood in Eutracia would exist no more.
After completing his scorched-earth campaign, he would then take his servants to Parthalon in theJin’Saiou ’s two Black Ships. He did not know how to sail them through the air, but that did not distress him. He could easily round up any number of Eutracian sailors living along the coastline, just as he had done with the citizens of Birmingham and Tanglewood. He would use the craft to bend the sailors to his will and force them to take him across the ocean in the traditional way. Once he reached Parthalon, the entire country would fall prey to him and his Blood Vipers. He would then stand astride both nations like a colossus and enjoy the just rewards of dictatorship that Gracchus had promised to him.
Hearing the sounds of the ocean, Khristos turned. While he and his grisly servants eagerly awaited news of theJin’Sai ’s arrival, Khristos took in the amazing sight.
The cavern in which he stood was huge-so mammoth, in fact that he could not see its limits. A great subterranean ocean lay before him, its blue waves stretching away from the rocky shore. Hundred of meters above him, a ceiling of rock lay where the sky would normally have been. The millions of radiance stones ensconced within it lit this place brightly with a sage-green hue, stretching as far as his eyes could see. Even the ocean itself, wide and foam-crested, seemed endless.
The smell of the cool breeze blowing in off the waves reminded him of the coast of Eutracia. The froth-tipped waves were the exact hue produced by the craft. They rushed toward him over and over again, crashing noisily upon the sandy shore some fifty meters from his feet. Behind him lay a long, jagged stone wall, reaching from the sand to the top of the cavern. Hundreds of cave openings pierced the wall, their dark holes often lying many meters above the sand. With Gracchus’ help, Khristos knew that each one stretched for leagues into the living rock. Within those caves his thousands of servants lay coiled and ready to strike at a moment’s notice.
This is where theJin’Saiwill finally meet his death, Khristos thought as he watched the waves constantly assault the sandy beach. Before that can happen, he and his mystics must again find this place, but even that has been skillfully arranged.
Leaving the beach, he trod the sand back to where one of the dark cave entrances stood. From just within its depths he would be able to clearly see theJin’Sai and his forces arrive, for there would be but one entrance available to them-the one that Gracchus and Khristos wanted them to use. Only then would he order the attack.
As he waited among his eager servants, his mind slowly drifted back to the violent era known as the Sorceresses’ War. Failee was losing her struggle for dominance over the craft, but much more blood would be spilled and far more combatants killed before she would finally be defeated. The three Mistresses of the Coven and their forces had gathered deep in Hartwick Wood, hoping to entice the Vigors forces into a trap and annihilate them. It had also been the time of Khristos’ great love for Failee and of her secret plan to commend him and the viper embryos to the peaceful-looking river…
“What troubles you, my love?” Khristos asked.
Turning over, he looked deeply into Failee’s eyes. Sorceress’s eyes, he thought as he became lost in their luster for the thousandth time. Her hazel orbs sometimes seemed to glow, and they were but one of the mysterious qualities that drew him to her. She had coupled with him even more frantically this night, like a desperate woman who feared she was lying with her mate for the last time. For him it had been glorious, overpowering, mesmerizing. But as he waited for a response and got none, he worried.
When he had first approached her and offered his services as an accomplished Vagaries wizard, the First Mistress had reacted with aloofness. It seemed that she regarded him as little more than yet another among the many hundreds of wizards who wished to follow her cause and to see the Directorate destroyed. Later, as his wartime exploits and notoriety blossomed, she took an increasing interest in him. A mutual attraction soon developed, finally enticing them to share a bed.
But as his love for her grew, other than their frenzied physical couplings he could sense no emotional need in her for him. All that he ever saw within those wondrous eyes was her obsession to win this terrible struggle that she had started. Like her prosecution of the war, she approached her frantic lovemaking as if it too were some battle that must be won. She controlled every aspect of her terrible war with methodical savagery, and her carnal need for Khristos was no different.
The magnificent First Mistress, he thought as he searched her beautiful face. He continued trying to guess her thoughts even though he knew it was impossible. She is also the estranged wife of Wigg, Lead Wizard of the Directorate. What a strange path this war has woven for us. Only the Afterlife knows how it will all end. If I ever see Wigg again, how might such a bizarre scene play out?
Saying nothing, Faile
e rose from the luxurious bed and walked naked to the other side of her war tent. As she went, he watched her graceful curves glint in the candlelight. Long dark hair streaked with silver hung far down her back, swishing gently to and fro and brushing her perfect skin.
There was no other sorceress on earth like her and there would never be again, his heart told him. Whatever she asked of him he would do. Not simply because Failee was his lover, but also because he had never known so strong and infallible a leader as she. Her talents in the craft were legendary, her ruthlessness on the battlefield uncompromising.
Sitting down at her dressing table, the naked First Mistress looked into the mirror, then took up a tortoiseshell brush and began pulling it through her lustrous hair. When she went silent like this, there was no use trying to prod her, Khristos knew. Like everything else in her life, conversing was strictly on her terms.
As he waited, Khristos sat up in bed and he looked around. Despite how many times he had visited the First Mistress’s war tent, it never ceased to amaze him. Had he not known better, he might have thought himself to be in the private bedchamber of some queen’s castle rather than amid a huge military camp deep in Hartwick Wood. As usual, wherever the Mistresses of the Coven ventured, every conceivable luxury had been provided for.
The tent was very large, its four long sides and pointed ceiling sturdily supported by gleaming golden poles rather than the customary wooden posts. The dense canvas was dyed dark green to match the forest that surrounded it. Ornately carved furniture and patterned rugs adorned the area, while dozens of candles and oil lamps gave off soft, reassuring light. One table held war charts, texts, and scrolls relating to the craft. Scented oils wafted on the evening air while outside the tent, the familiar sounds of soldiers at arms, neighing horses, and other camp activity sounded into the night.
Two handmaiden mystics armed with swords and daggers stood motionless near the tent entrance, ready to execute any order given them by their First Mistress. As so many times before, tonight they silently watched as Failee and Khristos performed their grasping brand of lovemaking. At first Khristos had found their cool gazes unnerving, but because of his carnal need for Failee, he soon adjusted. For a time he had wondered whether the women were there to protect their mistress should Khristos ever threaten her. Then he had laughed aloud when he realized that Failee would need no help to kill him should she wish him dead. It was widely rumored throughout Failee’s massive war machine that she could kill with a single thought, as could Succiu, Vona, and Zabarra, the other three lesser but equally devoted Mistresses of the Coven.
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