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

by Frances Smith

  It was only with iron self-control that Miranda restrained herself from smacking him. "I thank you, your highness, for your generous offer. Sadly I fear I must decline. Rest assured that we will work together as closely as we need to. The throne will always have my fullest support."

  "I'm sorry about that," Miranda said, as she and Octavia rode together in the gently swaying litter towards the house of Lord Quirian.

  "For what?" Octavia asked, the tips of her tawny wings poking out of the palanquin on either side.

  "For accepting the appointment," Miranda said. "I should have spoken to you about it first."

  "Why?" Octavia asked. "I wasn't being offered a post."

  "No, but my decisions affect you as well, and I should have considered that," Miranda said. She hesitated. "Or at least they do so long as we are together. I...if you want to leave then that will be fine. It might even be for the best. You may not get another chance."

  Octavia blinked, her golden eyes widening. "Are you saying that you want me gone?"

  "No," Miranda said emphatically. "I just...I am bound to this place now. I could go out into the field with the legions or my golem armies, but I don't think that I would like that very much. But it is either there or here, there is nowhere else. I am not at liberty any more, as once I was. And it may be dangerous, more dangerous than it was before, to be associated with me."

  "That's saying something after two murder attempts, I suppose," Octavia said brightly.

  Miranda looked at her cautiously. "Was that a joke?"

  Octavia shrugged, her face so straight she could have passed for a golem.

  Miranda frowned, then burst out laughing. "I suppose you have a very good point."

  Octavia leaned forward, taking Miranda's hands inside her own gentle grip. "So long as you want me, I'll be here. I won't ever leave you, no matter how dangerous it is."

  "You're saying that because you haven't thought it through," Miranda said. "The army may not want me as their commander, in fact they probably don't. I may be faced with a mutiny, or worse. The patricians will hate me now even more than they do already. And there's the fact that I won't be free any more and neither will you so long as you tie yourself to me. You'll be trapped here-"

  "And where else would I go, without you to go there with me?" Octavia demanded. "The village I grew up in where everyone hated me? Hawk's Roost, though I don't speak a word of Aestival? I don't want to be anywhere where you are not. You are my world, you are my sky, and you are my freedom. I...I've been flying half my life, but I never soared until I met you. So I'll stay, no matter what you say, unless what you say to me is 'go'. Do you want me to go?"

  "No," Miranda said. "I want you."

  "Then why are you trying to get rid of me?" Octavia asked.

  "I..." Miranda said, before falling silent. "I don't...I suppose I thought I was doing the right thing."

  "You could have done that by listening to me the first time," Octavia pointed out.

  "Yes, yes I suppose I could," Miranda said. She giggled. "It seems that I am neither as clever nor as practical as I thought I was. I, too, am a selfish and self-sacrificing fool. How embarrassing."

  "You're still wonderful," Octavia said.

  Miranda smiled. "You don't need flattery to worm your way into my heart or my bed."

  "I know," Octavia said contentedly. She leaned back against the pillows of the palanquin. "I wonder what Lord Father will say about you being Commander of the Army?"

  "He'll either think that it's a brilliant idea or an absolutely terrible one," Miranda said. "I'm not sure I really mind which, although I probably should."

  "What are you going to do now that you're Commander?"

  Miranda thought for a moment. "I intend to protect those I love, avoid hurting those I don't know and teach all of these posturing patricians and blustering soldiers some humility and decency. In short, I mean to do the right thing."

  VIII

  The Eternal City

  "Behold: Eternal Pantheia," Gideon declared, his voice suffused with such passion and devotion that he might almost have been introducing a wife with whom he was hopelessly besotted. "The heart of the Empire, the city of Panthus and Aegea, the seat of the Purple Throne, the envy of nations and the pride of our fair state, the gleaming, gold and glorious centre of the world."

  "More like the cesspool of Panthus," Jason cut in roughly. "No description of this city can be complete which does not touch upon its dirt and its depravity."

  "Your Highness, that was very harshly spoken," Michael murmured.

  "Harsh, perhaps, but true all the same," Jason said. "This city is no paradise; no matter what some may say."

  "Nor is it the wretched hive you seem to believe," Gideon countered.

  "It's probably both," Amy said. "Most places are, I find."

  Michael supposed that Amy was right - she had travelled farther than he had, and seen more different places than him, not to mention that the only example he could think that was not both in some way was the forest realm of Eena - but from where they stood Eternal Pantheia looked more glorious than wretched to his eyes.

  They stood upon a high, barren, dusty hillside not far from the river Stilic; Gideon had brought them out of the spirit realm for the final time a day's journey from the city, in some out of the way place where the sight of a magical portal would not attract undue notice. Before them, a few miles distant yet but clearly visible, lay the eternal city itself.

  The greatest city in the world sprawled lazily across both banks of the river, like an old warrior who had let his muscles turn to flab and his belly balloon outwards on the rich food and wine that he had won from his many victories. And yet, when Michael gazed upon the Empire's capital, he felt he could still discern the outline of those rugged muscles and strong arms that had once won an empire, even as he could see the toll possession of an empire had taken on the city. The walls were tall and sturdy - and wide enough to shelter barracks for thousands of troops and stabling for horses and war elephants - even though the city appeared to have outgrown them long since, with houses spreading out on the wrong side of the walls in all directions until they became little more than lean-to huts or glorified tents. Smoke rose into the sky from the temples which rose above the walls to dominate the skyline. Farms nestled on the riverbank up and down river, even as the land beyond the river looked to have stripped of any value, no grass nor trees, nothing but barren earth. From their vantage point they could see inside the city proper, and Michael marvelled at the glimmering splendour of the opulence on display: golden roofs, shimmering spires, the vast expanse of the circus and the grandeur of the coliseum. So much gold, so much marble; yes the ordinary houses looked to be made of stone or common brick, but a city of such grandeur and luxury could not possibly be so bad as His Highness would have them think. Yet it took only a glance to comprehend and share Gideon's admiration.

  "It is even larger than Arko," Wyrrin murmured, his reptilian eyes darting this way and that. "I did not think that that was possible."

  Gideon chuckled. "I daresay that there are many cities within Aegea's domain that would make Arko seem like a child's plaything by comparison."

  "A very rich child," Jason muttered.

  "I could say the same of Ocean's Heart, don't get too pleased with yourself," Amy said.

  "Cultural posturing is a fool's game," Jason said. "Custom is the king of all."

  "Not quite all," Michael murmured, firmly believing that there were certain laws set down by the gods themselves that no earthly power could - or should - defy.

  "Yes, well, regardless of all that; if we move quickly we might get inside the walls before they shut the gates for the night," Jason said.

  "What do they do that for? There's no one to shut the gates against," Amy said.

  "We made it here in practically no time at all from Deucalia province," Jason reminded her.

  "Good point," Amy acknowledged.

  "We will not be entering the cit
y today in any case," Gideon said. "We will make camp here and enter Eternal Pantheia as early as possible tomorrow morning. The crowds wishing to enter the city are greater in the morn, we will be less likely to be spotted if Quirian has people watching the gates for us."

  "Hmm," Jason mused, as if he were searching for objections. "That is not entirely unreasonable, I suppose. Still, I shall be glad when we get into the city and I can put all of this wilderness nonsense behind me. I am made for city comforts, I have been away from them too long."

  "You were in Davidheyr not too long ago," Amy said.

  "There were no real comforts in Davidheyr, where there?" Jason replied.

  "No," Michael said. "But there was Filia Tullia."

  Jason went quiet for a moment. "Yes, I suppose there was, wasn't there?"

  Michael drew his sword - the green blade of Eena, the sword that Fiannuala had given him - and placed it point first in the earth at his feet. "Let us now take a vow together, before the gods, as comrades close as kinsfolk, as the entourage of a great lord. Let us vow together that, as we now stand in what seems to be the final stage of our journey, we will dedicate all glories we might win to the memory of our dear comrades, and comport ourselves so as to bring honour to their names, and win their favour as they watch us from their eternal rest. All we do within those city walls, we shall do in honour of them."

  Amy bowed her head. "By Turo I vow it shall be so, by sea and surf and the blood of Niccolo. To Fiannuala, Princess of Eena, I vow my honours and my spoils."

  "By Aro's fires I swear the vow, to consecrate my actions to the souls of two bold warriors," Wyrrin said.

  "To all the gods, to Turo and to Arus, to Dala and to Kinos, to Mithro, to Thanates and Stratos, I swear to honour Tullia with my conduct," Jason whispered.

  "In the Empress' name let it be so," Gideon said, more quietly than any of them.

  "And let God judge me harshly if I break this oath," Michael muttered. Somewhere in the city waited Tullia's sister, Lucilia. He would have to break her heart with the news that her dear sister was dead, and would return to her no more. It was not a pleasant duty, but he had vowed to Tullia that he would care for her sister if she fell, and he could not begin his guardianship of the girl by lying to her about her sister's fate. At least she would know that Tullia died bravely, small comfort as it would be to one who had seen too few years for such grief. After all, his own mother had faced her death with courage, but that had not comforted him or Miranda or Felix in the days that followed.

  Felix. He was in the city too, somewhere. He and Miranda, and Quirian, Michael's enemy. Everyone was waiting behind the walls of Eternal Pantheia. All their roads had led them here.

  Everything had come to this.

  God bless our swords and strengthen our arms with might and our hearts with valour. God uphold our honour, and witness our deeds.

  God save the Empire.

  The Great Gate into Eternal Pantheia was lined with purple bricks, and the archway was overlaid with gold. It glimmered in the morning light as Michael and the others shuffled down the Aegean Way to enter the city. Over the gate was a frieze depicting the Novar Gods raining blessings down upon a suppliant Emperor, gifting him with the crowns and diadems of all the kingdoms of the world. Beneath the frieze was the epigraph Aegeus III, By the Grace of the Gods Emperor of All Pelarius, Liandra, Triazica and All the Lands that Lie Between or May Be Found Beyond, Raised This Gateway.

  "Aegeus III?" Michael said.

  "Yes, Eternal Pantheia is essentially four cities ringed around one another," Gideon explained. "First, the Old City, built by Panthus and his fellow Ausonians when first they settled here. Second, the Imperial City built by Aeneas after his Divine Mother ascended to the heavens, an expansion to make the city fit to be the capital of a world. The palace and most of the administrative buildings that house the Imperial bureaucracy date to him. But the city kept on expanding, more and people flooded into Eternal Pantheia as the size of the Empire grew; the city is the only place to be if one wishes to exercise real influence, and every one man flocking to the city for that reason needed another ten to feed him, clothe him and attend to all his needs and entertainments. The city was bursting at the seams and so Aegeus III drew up new sacred boundaries, raised new walls, and erected this gate under which we shall, hopefully, soon pass to enter what is called the New City. Of course as you see the city has again grown beyond those limits, so I do not think a further expansion of the city limits can be too far off."

  "Assuming they ever let us in," Amy grumbled. She was suffering more than the rest of them in the oppressive heat, cooking inside her all-enclosing armour. "Why Panthus chose to build a city here is beyond me. And what is taking so long?"

  They were in the middle of a vast crowd of people, stretching from the gate to the horizon behind, all desperate to enter the Empire's capital. Beggars, merchants sitting atop wagons, drovers, shepherds, lords and ladies in their carriages, soldiers, slaves, minotaurs, orcs, aestivals all waited with varying degrees of impatience to pass under Aegeus' Gate.

  "The guards make random checks of people entering or leaving the city, as well as keeping a lookout for known criminals," Jason said.

  Amy looked from Jason to Gideon. "You could have mentioned that earlier! And how exactly do the two of you expect to get by unnoticed?"

  Gideon smiled. "I intend to steal something. Nothing too large or valuable, but I intend to take it and then run through the gate without stopping."

  "Because the guards will never bother to abandon their posts to pursue a petty thief." Michael grinned. "Excellent idea."

  "It has some merit," Gideon said. "I suggest you do the same Jason, you are probably more wanted than I am at this point."

  Jason sighed as he nodded. "I suppose so. I cannot think of a better plan. I do wish there was an alternative to robbing someone of their hard won possessions though."

  "Needs must," Amy said. "And it isn't as though you're going to kill anyone."

  "I would recommend that Michael and Ameliora should enter the city by lawful means," Gideon said. "Jason and I will wait not too far away and join you as soon as you are both out of sight of the guards. For that reason, I think it would best if we disassociated ourselves from one another, to prevent awkward questions." Gideon drew Jason off, away from Michael and Amy, making it look as if they were not together but merely forced by circumstance to stand nearby one another.

  The shambling crowds moved on slowly but inexorably, until they stood in the shadow of the gate itself. There were a score of guardsmen in mail coats standing on or near the gate, picking people at random and questioning them even as they waved others through into Eternal Pantheia. It was they who were keeping the pace so slow, but Michael supposed they were doing the best they could to weed out undesirables.

  When Gideon and Jason drew near to the front of the line Gideon shoved a nearby pedlar and wrenched the bundles from his back even as the man was falling to the ground. Tossing one bundle to Jason, holding one himself and discarding the rest, Gideon began to sprint for the gate, shoving his way through the crowd with Jason behind like a ship following a pilot vessel into harbour.

  "Here, stop right there!" the sergeant of the guard shouted, but neither Gideon nor Jason acknowledged as they dashed beneath the gateway and into the warrens of the city.

  The pedlar picked himself up off the dusty ground. "Well don't just stand there, go after them!"

  The sergeant rolled his eyes. "Sir, if I took my lads away from here to go hunting a thief I'd have to shut this gate. And if I do that then the Emperor will hear about it, and he'll complain to the Consul. The Consul will complain to the City Praetor, the Praetor will complain to the Prefect of the City, the Prefect will complain to my watch captain and the captain will put his boot up my arse and I don't really want that to happen. You're quite welcome to make a report to the City Guard on who the thieves were and what was taken once you enter the city and they will keep an eye out for
your property and the criminals."

  "But I didn't see who they were."

  "That's a pity, sir, but I'm very busy and there's a long queue waiting. In you go," the sergeant handed the pedlar off to one of his optiones, who steered him inside the gate and sent him on his way.

  The sergeant turned his gaze over to Michael and Amy, "You weren't with those two criminals I hope?"

  "No, sergeant," Michael said. "Never seen them before."

  "Is that so?" the sergeant ran his eyes over Amy's armour. "Maybe not, but you're queer enough customers by yourselves aren't you? What are you under all that armour?"

  Amy tore her helmet off. "I'm a naiad, what do you think?"

  The sergeant went very still and blinked twice. "Right, why not? Just don't go swinging that sword at anybody; there are laws in this city. And how about you? Not planning to use those weapons I hope."

  "Not unless I must," Michael replied. It was a lie, but not too great a one.

  The sergeant frowned. "That accent? Coronan?"

  "Coronim," Michael corrected.

  "As you say," the sergeant said, suddenly looking as though he was trying to hide a smirk. "Listen, traveller, when you get inside, find an inn and get someone to cook you the dog's bollocks. They're a delicacy."

  Michael raised one eyebrow. "It does not sound that way."

  "Trust me," the sergeant said. "In you go." As Michael and Amy passed into the city Michael thought he could hear the sergeant chuckling.

  "What was so funny?" Michael asked.

  Amy shrugged. "I don't know. But at least we're inside now."

  They met up with Gideon and Jason a few streets away, and Michael recounted the incident. "What do you suppose he was laughing at?"

  Jason grinned. "I, um, I probably should have mentioned this before Michael but, Coronim have a certain reputation in the other provinces, particularly in the cosmopolitan cities. A reputation as um...oh I'll just say it, a reputation as naive country bumpkins who take themselves - and everything else - far too seriously for their own good, and are incredibly gullible as a result. You rather fit the image, I'm afraid."