Spirit of the Sword: Faith and Virtue (The First Sword Chronicles Book 2)

by Frances Smith

  Miranda regarded her coldly. "If you think that you can frighten me, Filia, then I suggest that you ask Helen Manzikes how that has gone so far. And, considering that you are not so much younger than Portia, if you are not older, then I would prepare yourself for the possibility that you might never become Empress." She smiled. "I wish you happiness in your marriage, Filia Messalina." Her escort surrounded the litter as the servants lifted it up, forcing Messalina back to the side of Prince Antiochus, who looked to be stewing in a state of dumbfounded fury.

  "I cannot believe that they thought that they thought I would turn my back on a friend," Miranda muttered. "For what? Gold? Is that how low they think I am?"

  "I can't believe you spoke to them that way," Octavia said.

  "Why shouldn't I?" Miranda asked. "As I told him he needs me, not the other way around. It is not right that my magic should be the only reason I demand consideration from a man like him, but since I have the magic I may as well demand the consideration." She shook her head. "The nerve, the... I have to take care of her."

  "Messalina?"

  "No, Portia," Miranda said. "Without me... I'm afraid for her."

  "Do you think you can protect her?" Octavia asked.

  "I think I'd better, because no one else will," Miranda said. "I think she was target of that attack, not me. I pray that I have dissuaded Prince Antiochus from trying again."

  "And if you haven't?"

  "Then he had better hope the gods help him," Miranda said. "Because he will have made an enemy of me."

  V

  Black Arts

  Miranda leaned upon her stick and gazed into the eyes of the golems assembled in the courtyard in front of her. There were a hundred of them, perhaps a few more, perhaps a few less, all gazing at her with their amethyst and tourmaline eyes, their faces of stone and clay expressionless and unmoving, their trunk-like arms hanging down by their sides.

  Octavia stood close by, her tawny wings unfurled and casting a wide shadow across the stony courtyard floor. Aelia bounced expectantly on the balls of her feet, hands clasped behind her back. Ascanius and Julian sat upon Quirian's fountain, Julian frowning as he kept his hand on the hilt of his sword, while Ascanius cleaned his fingernails with a knife, affecting a supreme indifference which Miranda knew to be wholly false. He was as interested in seeing whether this would work as any of them.

  Miranda cleared her throat. She opened her mouth, but then hesitated. "How do you think I should address them?"

  "Our officers always started off with 'Soldiers of the Seventh!'" Julian said.

  "Don't be ridiculous," Ascanius said. "They're walking statues, they don't need to be addressed like anything. Say your peace to them and be done with it."

  He had a point, but it felt strange, somehow, to talk to a whole group of them like this as if she were conversing with an individual. Miranda cleared her throat. "Golems," Miranda said. "I am about to set you a command phrase. Whenever you hear this phrase, you will obey the person who spoke the phrase as you would myself." She had devised the idea as a way for responsibility for the growing golem army to be delegated to subordinate commanders and officers without her having to go personally to every golem and identify them as a commander to the golems directly. Instead, she need only give the command phrases to... her chosen representative - she was by no means certain now that her choice would fall upon Prince Antiochus - and they would then be able to delegate command of the various companies by means of delegating the command phrases.

  That was also why these golems had been painted, with red stripes running down their arms and golden lions roaring on their shoulders. Miranda had wanted to avoid such martial pomposity, but lacking artistic inspiration she had delegated the responsibility for the designs to Ascanius and Julian, who had taken their inspiration from the insignia of the Empire's legions. Doubtless the city would soon be overrun in golems bearing the symbols of boars, bears, elephants and wolves. And now that she saw the initial results she had to admit that there was something appropriately fierce about them.

  Still, terribly pompous, like everything to do with soldiers.

  "The phrase," she continued. "Is this: Daniel the Lion. Whomsoever gives you the words Daniel the Lion, them you shall obey."

  Miranda turned to Aelia. "Perhaps you'd like to test it?"

  Aelia beamed, and coughed into her fist. "Daniel the Lion."

  She waited expectantly. The golems did not react.

  Aelia scowled slightly. "Right turn!"

  There was a grinding sound followed by a heavy thud as every golem assembled in the courtyard turned as one so that they were facing to their right, gimlet eyes boring a hole in Lord Quirian's outer wall.

  Aelia clapped her hands together in delight. "It works! It actually works!"

  "Yes, congratulations on making the soulless, unthinking abominations even more efficient to use," Ascanius said.

  "You really don't like them, do you?" Miranda asked.

  "They scare me shitless, the way they should do everyone else," Ascanius said. "This is the death of the race of man, this is."

  "The death of soldiering, possibly," Miranda said.

  "Say that when there are golems sweeping the streets, and little golems cooking dinners for the patricians, and golems collecting taxes because you know they'll never cream off the top, and golems doing everything the poor do and doing it better and for no cost," Ascanius said. "It will just be the rich living off the unbreakable backs of labourers that don't sweat, and never having to feel guilty about it. Not that they feel much guilt now, but they'll feel even less when those they're working to the stone can't feel it."

  Miranda shook her head. "I'm not going to start making golems just to make the lives of the wealthy slightly easier. I'm doing this for the whole Empire, and all its people."

  "Now you are," Ascanius muttered darkly. "Honestly, love, this country and its people don't need your help. Not this kind of help, anyway."

  Miranda smiled. "I think we'll have to agree to disagree about that."

  "Who's Daniel the Lion?" Julian asked.

  "A gladiator, from Corona in my childhood," Miranda said. "I thought it was sufficiently esoteric that people wouldn't guess it by chance. And the connotations aren't inappropriate. Especially considering the motif you gave them."

  Julian glanced backwards, towards Quirian's house. Whatever he saw there made him clasp a hand to Ascanius' shoulder. Ascanius soon saw it to, and rose to his feet, sheathing his knife at his belt.

  Miranda followed their gaze and saw Felix coming stalking out of the house towards her, his footfalls echoing across the courtyard. His sorcerous arm hung stiffly by his side. Her little brother was not wearing the face-concealing silver mask through which he had kept himself hidden from her under the guise of Lucifer, and with the absence of the mask also seemed to be missing some of the grave confidence that had previously possessed him. He was much more her brother now, shoulders hunched and head slightly bowed, nervousness rising from him like steam from boiling water. It was a sight that so reminded her of when they were children, of when they had been a family, that it gladdened Miranda's heart to see it; she felt a smile tugging at her lips.

  "Felix," she said. "I've just issued these golems a command phrase. Would you like to try directing them?"

  "No, thank you 'Randa," Felix said quietly. "I...um..." he glanced quickly at Ascanius, and then at Aelia, his eyes darting this way and that like a frightened rabbit being hunted by the fox and the dogs.

  "I should, er, yes, very well," Aelia said, bowing her head briefly to Miranda before walking briskly away from the mustered golem ranks and into Quirian's house.

  "Captain," Ascanius said, tossing a sloppy salute Felix's way. "Come on, Julian."

  "Right," Julian said, following Ascanius away inside.

  When they were alone, save for Octavia, Miranda asked, "How have you been keeping, Felix?"

  "Fine," Felix muttered. "Lord Father-"

  "Don't c
all him that," Miranda said sharply. She sighed. "I'm sorry, Felix, I didn't mean to snap at you. But he isn't your father."

  "Our father left us," Felix said.

  "That doesn't make Lord Quirian your family," Miranda said. "I'm your family, and he took you away from me and lied to us both about it. He let me think you were dead. He let you think there was no one who cared about you except him. He...I don't care if you love the man, I can't stop you from feeling what you feel, but please, don't talk about him like he's your family in front of me. Not now, anyway. Please."

  Felix blinked as he looked down at his feet. "Alright, 'Randa, to please you. Lord...Quirian, told me that your sorcery lessons had to continue, even though...even with what's happened between us."

  "What's happened between us?" Miranda asked. "Were you going to avoid me?"

  Felix didn't answer.

  "Felix!"

  "If I didn't see you then you couldn't shout at me," Felix said.

  Miranda sighed. "Felix."

  "Sorry," Felix said. He glanced at Octavia. "Octavia, could you leave us alone, please?"

  Octavia glanced at Miranda, who gave a small and solitary nod. Octavia squeezed Miranda's hand, then departed swiftly back into the house.

  Felix watched her go. "It seems that you've captured her loyalty along with her heart."

  Miranda smiled. "I think that love without loyalty would hardly be worth the name, don't you agree? Now, what is it that Lord Quirian is so anxious that you teach me?"

  "Demon summoning," Felix said. "He thinks that you would be powerful enough to summon whole armies of them if you could learn their names."

  "No," Miranda said flatly. "I will not do it. I will not learn how it is done; I will not even meet one of them. I will not do it."

  "It's not as bad as it sounds," Felix said.

  "It could hardly sound worse," Miranda replied.

  "It can be very useful sometimes, even if it's only as a distraction," Felix protested. "Demons can be allies in battle, they can scout for you, some of them are very good trackers. I can summon a few of them; let me show you my demon hounds."

  "I don't want to meet your demon hounds," Miranda said firmly. "You know how to summon demons? Demons? How could you?"

  Felix hung his head, but his voice when it came was mulish. "They aren't all evil like the priests say."

  "They're demons," Miranda insisted. "They're...how can you consort with them?"

  "Have you ever met any?" Felix asked.

  "I don't need to meet any because they're demons," Miranda said. "I will not learn to summon them and I don't want you summoning them either. You know that mother wouldn't like it and neither do I."

  Felix's brow furrowed. "Is this because of what the priests say? I thought you didn't believe in all that sort of thing?"

  Miranda sighed. "I reject those elements of Turonim doctrine that make no sense to me; that is because I have a mind of my own and I mean to use it. But I would be a fool to ignore the fact that there was a hole in my roof simply because the man who pointed it out to me also told me that a red door would attract invisible spiders. I happen to believe that summoning demons is unwise at the least. If I were in their place I would do everything to escape the bindings forcing me to obey the will of she who summoned me."

  "Oh, I see," Felix murmured. "Well...then...I suppose I should go."

  "Wait, Felix, don't go. Stay a while." Miranda smiled. "We still haven't had that talk, have we?"

  "That's why I've been avoiding you," Felix said.

  Miranda snorted. "Why do you act like I'm such a beastly ogre? Was I really that awful a sister to grow up with?"

  "You did criticise me a lot."

  "Only when you deserved it."

  "Only when you thought that I deserved it."

  Miranda leaned heavily upon her stick. "You were lazy, you told lies, you let Michael take the blame for things that you did, you mumbled and didn't look people in the eye and when you didn't want to talk to someone you just ignored them. I see you're still not looking me in the eye."

  "Lucifer can," Felix muttered.

  "Yes, but you're not Lucifer, are you, really?" Miranda asked. "Look me in the eye, Felix."

  Slowly, looking as though he might bolt and run at any moment, Felix raised his head, then locked gazes with Miranda. Once or twice it wavered, but he never looked away completely.

  "Thank you," Miranda whispered. "Would you like to sit down?"

  Felix looked around in confusion.

  Miranda chuckled, and pointed to two her golems. "Form chairs. Over here."

  The two golems stomped forwards, their heavy footfalls echoing, before they knelt down in the courtyard and held out their trunk-like stone arms to form crude benches for Felix and Miranda.

  "You taught them that?" Felix asked. "That will be useful in a war."

  "I imagine their officers will be glad of a rest every now and again," Miranda replied. She sat down on one of the stone arms, and sighed with relief at being able to take the weight off her leg. "If there's one thing I very much dislike about this work it is having to spend so long on my feet." She paused. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't really complain, should I?"

  "I've gotten used to it," Felix said, lifting his sorcerous arm slightly. "Having two arms would feel strange now, I think."

  "Hmm," Miranda murmured. She was silent for a moment, collecting her thoughts within the comfort of her own head. "I...I don't know how to begin."

  "What do you want to know?" Felix asked.

  "Everything," Miranda said. "What happened to you, how you've been, are you happy here...everything."

  Felix blinked, and she could tell that he wanted to look away, but she felt that it was to his credit that he did not.

  "I...when I first came here...when Lord Quirian first brought me here...the thing that you need to understand about the Lost is that Lord F- Lord Quirian can afford to only take the best into his service."

  "I thought he used all that he recruited," Miranda said, thinking of Octavia and how she had bemoaned her clumsiness and lack of skill as a warrior.

  "No, not all, far from all," Felix said. "It isn't always as simply as how skilful you are - Octavia is still here because she's the most powerful air mage born in a hundred years, and Lord F- Lord Quirian doesn't want anyone else to get their hands on her - but there are a lot of orphans and lost children in the Empire, Lord Quirian can afford to be picky. There are a lot more recruits than there are grown members of the Lost."

  "And yet the house is not overrun with children," Miranda pointed out.

  "There have been no new children here for five years," Felix said. "As though Lord Quirian does not believe we will need to replenish our numbers. Anyway, the point is that, although the Lost are fiercely disciplined, the competition to join the Lost was just fierce. Lord Quirian tolerated a lot in his children."

  "That doesn't sound like a place you would enjoy," Miranda said quietly.

  Felix shook his head. "I didn't know where I was, who I was...I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for Metella. She took care of me, like...like Michael did for Amy, only more. She looked after me; she helped me, or helped Lucifer at least, to become more confident, more sure of myself. She fought my battles when I was too weak to fight them myself."

  "She still fights them when you are too weak to do so," Miranda murmured, thinking of how she had rushed to save Felix from Lysimachus during his attack on Quirian's house.

  "But at the same time she's never doubted me, never doubted my abilities," Felix said. "Not even Michael can say that, Metella's the only person I know who has always believed in me."

  "It appears that she has been a better friend to you than I realised," Miranda said.

  "She's the strongest person I know," Felix murmured. "She never wants anything for herself; she is devoted wholly to Lord Fa- to Lord Quirian and his cause. She gives herself wholly to the fight in a way none of the rest of us can. It's...humbling, to watch her. She should command the Lost
, not me."

  "Why doesn't she?" Miranda asked.

  "Her abilities make her more useful to Lord Quirian as his personal bodyguard," Felix said. "No one can get past her."

  "Ironic, that the very qualities which would make her an outstanding leader also prevent her from being given the opportunity to display leadership," Miranda mused. "I should probably thank her, for taking care of you."

  "I don't know why she did it," Felix said. "She had no reason to."

  "There is rarely a reason to help another," Miranda replied. "Sometimes we do it in hope of rich reward, because we believe that some higher power will look favourably upon our action, or because we wish to be feted and admired for our virtue and generosity. But most often, and most sincerely, we do it for no better reason than because we care for the person we help; and we care because...who can say? Because the gods move us so, because of some ethereal spark between two souls? I do not know, and I do not doubt there are many wiser even than I who would profess a similar state of ignorance."

  "I don't know what I'd do without her," Felix said. "Not that I want to sound ungrateful to Lord Quirian; he did teach me to fight, to cast spells, to stand on my own two feet. But Metella-"

  "Was kind to you, and that counts for more," Miranda said. "I understand completely. What was it like, your training?"

  Felix shrugged. "It was hard, at first. It got easier, the better I got. Never that easy, but easier."

  "Do you enjoy fighting?" Miranda asked. "With sword or spell?"

  "No. I don't think Lucifer does either, really." Felix was silent for a moment. "What about you, 'Randa? How have you been, since I...went away?"

  "Lonely," Miranda answered with a slight soft sigh. "You'll probably remember that I never had very many friends in Lover's Rock. Or any at all. You...left. Michael sold himself to Jonathan Dolabella. I had the house, so I suppose I can't complain too much, there are a lot of people who have lived worse lives, but I was very lonely." She didn't tell him about Cornelia, the Tyronian girl who had inveigled her way into Miranda's house - and Miranda's bed - before running off with all the silver she could carry. She didn't want Felix to think her a fool. "Still, all that is past now. I am here, and I have Octavia."