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

by Frances Smith

  Fortunately, both Jason and Wyrrin had decided to leave her be for a while: Jason was catching up with his old friends in the brothel, the dirty young goat, and Wyrrin was having a lazy morning; she didn't think he'd been awake for more than an hour yet in total. So Amy was alone with Char, standing in front of a pale of water that she'd borrowed, trying to stretch out her will towards it and awaken some spark of water magic.

  So far, nothing was happening. Char looked at the still, motionless water, then hummed softly as he looked up at Amy.

  "I know," Amy growled, restraining herself from kicking the bucket in frustration. Water magic was the birthright of naiads and, though not all possessed it, for one such as she, of a noble bloodline that could trace its descent back to Turo himself, to be powerless was nigh unthinkable. It was one of the reasons her grandfather had scorned her so, he said that her human blood had corrupted her naiad heritage. She would have felt much better if she could have proved him wrong somehow. But no, every time she tried to demonstrate so much as a flicker of magical potential, nothing. A less stubborn knight might have given up by now.

  "What are you doing?"

  Amy whirled round to see Elissa watching her, a broom held lightly in her hands, her eyes wide with curiosity.

  "You're very light on your feet," Amy said. "I didn't hear you at all. And I'm not doing anything, not really."

  Char chittered.

  Elissa smiled as she got down onto her knees. "Hello! Who are you?"

  "He's called Char," Amy said. "He's a baby salamander."

  Char coughed.

  "All right, you're not entirely a baby anymore, but you're far from grown," Amy said. Char, who skittered over to where Elissa knelt and purred softly as she stroked his red and green scales, was now about the size of a bulldog. When he was fully grown he would large enough for Amy to ride, if he would let her.

  "Where did you find him?" Elissa asked.

  "The forest of Eena," Amy said. "He was friends with a comrade of ours. After she died, he decided to follow me."

  Elissa looked a little downcast at the mention of death, but she soon rallied to ask, "Is it true that you're a naiad, one of the sea folk? I didn't think they actually existed."

  "We exist," Amy said. "There are as many of us under the sea as there are humans on land. Well, perhaps not that many, but there are a lot more us than there are dryads, or trolls, fire drakes or aestivals. We're not clinging to life like they are."

  "Jason says that you're a great warrior," Elissa said.

  "I wouldn't have thought he'd want to describe any warrior as great," Amy said. "I can wield a sword as well as any knight in the Whalewatch, to be sure, but I don't think any warrior can be described as great until their name resounds across the land. I've got a long way to go before that happens."

  Elissa was quiet for a moment. "Mother doesn't like soldiers. Nor does Sophoniba. Mother won't have them in the house, though she'll take officers if they've got good coin. I admit the soldiers scare me sometimes-"

  "Soldiers are supposed to be scary," Amy said. "So that no one will challenge them."

  "But sometimes I'm a little jealous of them as well."

  "Jealous?" Amy asked. "You're jealous of being chained to a drum and a flag, going to this place and that place to risk your life?"

  "I envy that they can go to this place and that place," Elissa said. "Have you gotten to see a lot of the world as a warrior?"

  "Bits and pieces," Amy said. "There wasn't often time to admire the scenery much. And after you fight enough battles, it takes real effort to actually appreciate the world beyond the tactical advantages of the terrain wherever you happen to be."

  "Is it worth it?"

  "Is what worth what?"

  "Is being able to go places, see places, is that worth...is it worth the fighting, the killing?"

  Amy frowned. "Why are you asking me all these questions?"

  Elissa cringed away from her a little. "Does it bother you?"

  "That depends on why you're asking me."

  Elissa sighed. "It's just that you're the first girl I've ever met who doesn't live in the quarter. Most of the other girls I know are the ones that mother employs and they... they don't talk to me much. And you... I've seen the way Michael and Jason treat you as an equal. And you fight, for real. I think it's amazing."

  Amy frowned. "Do you envy me or something?"

  Elissa smiled nervously. "Is that so hard to understand?"

  Amy shook her head. "Listen, Elissa, you have to understand that I'm not human. Not wholly. I'm a naiad, and I fight because that's what naiads do. That's what God made us for. And because fighting is the only way to get any respect from other naiads. That's why I fought, not so I could travel or anything like that; I did it so that people would treat me with some respect instead of acting like I was something the porpoise dragged in. You don't need to pick up a sword and go chop a barbarian's head off to get that."

  "It might help," Elissa said sullenly. "Mother... she loves me, but she doesn't understand. And Sophoniba is always needling me because I don't work."

  Amy snorted. "Where I come from, work is done on your feet not on your back. I'm sorry, that sounded a lot meaner out loud."

  "It's all right, I understand what you meant," Elissa said. "I know what people think of what we do, it doesn't bother me. It frightens me, sometimes, but it doesn't offend me. Still, I wish I could leave. I wish I was strong like you. You're not afraid of anything."

  Amy laughed. "You'd have to be an idiot to not be afraid of anything. I just know what I should be afraid of and what I don't need to be. And I try not to show it either way."

  "Can I come with you, when you leave the city?" Elissa asked suddenly, desperately. "I'd give anything to leave Eternal Pantheia, to see the world outside. Mother says that its too dangerous-"

  "And she's right, it is dangerous," Amy cut her off. "Even more so if you don't know what you're doing." Ask Fia or Tullia about that, if they can hear you.

  "It can't be any more dangerous than my own home," Elissa snapped. "There's danger everywhere you go, but at least out there people won't look at me and assume that because of where I live I must be as for sale as any joint of beef on a butcher's stall; or looking down on me because I'm not."

  But, being as ten thousand fates of death surround us which no man can escape or forever avoid, let us go. At least we may win great glory in the time established for us. Amy did not have a brilliant memory for the old songs and stories, though she would listen to them attentively enough when the bard began to sing, but that line from the Aureliad, spoken by Gabriel to his beloved Aurelia on the eve of his last battle, came to her unbidden at Elissa's confession.

  But it is one thing for a hero to go into battle accepting that he might die, and another for me to let a naif run off to fight with no idea of what that means because she wants to leave the house. Amy spoke, slowly, carefully, wanting to explain it to Elissa without angering her. "Listen, I understand well enough wanting to leave a place where you’re not wanted, believe me. And I'm flattered that you think I'm some sort of paragon for you to emulate. But did you ever meet Jason's slave: Tullia, the mage?"

  Elissa frowned. "I saw her once, when he came to say goodbye. She just stood behind him, looking cold. She's a mage?"

  "She's dead now, and not a lot of anything but dust," Amy replied coldly. "She had lightning magic, she was quick on her feet, fierce, strong for her size but now she's dead. So is Fiannuala, you can ask Jason about her, too, if you like. She looked up to me as well. Have you ever so much as held a sword or a spear?"

  "I know how to use a knife."

  "A knife is fine if you want to persuade a drunk to go elsewhere, but you might as well take your broom to war for all the good it will do you on the battlefield," Amy replied. "I'm sorry, Elissa, but I won't be responsible for you bleeding to death in the middle of some field, cursing my name with your dying breath because I let you think this might be fun." She sighed. "I
understand not being happy where you are, but wherever you are it's probably better than being dead."

  "Probably," Elissa said. "That doesn't make it any easier to live with though."

  "Commander, we need to talk to you."

  Miranda looked up from her chair to see Ascanius and Julian standing the doorway. She had not heard them coming up the stairs. She had been too deeply engrossed in her thoughts, pondering the revelations that Quirian had made to her and the questions that he had put to her. What would she do? What could she do? What ought she to do?

  It was driving her mad, these weighty matters going round and round in her head, and she looked to Ascanius with almost eagerness in the hope that whatever he wanted would take her mind of things.

  "Yes?" she asked. "What is it?"

  Ascanius and Julian exchanged a glance. Each seemed to be waiting for the other to speak.

  "Go on," Miranda said impatiently. "One of you, say something."

  Julian gestured for Ascanius to go first.

  Ascanius rolled his eyes before saying, "We reckon your brother's in the city."

  Miranda's eyes widened as her breath caught in her throat. "What...how? Have you seen him?"

  "No," Julian said. "But we've seen Gideon Commenae, and your brother was supposed to be with him, wasn't he?"

  "He was when I saw them last," Octavia said.

  "But you haven't seen Michael?" Miranda asked.

  "No," Ascanius said. "We followed Gideon back to a whorehouse in the Metics' Quarter, but we didn't see any sign of your brother."

  "I'm not surprised, Michael would never set foot in a place like that," Miranda said. "Where did you first spot Gideon Commenae?"

  "Sniffing around this house," Ascanius said. "Looked like he was scouting it out."

  "And he didn't see you?"

  "If he had we'd have known about it," Julian said. "The captain doesn't do so well in cities, he relies on his eyes too much, he's got no awareness. That's fine in the countryside when you can see your man, but not so good here."

  "Have you told Lord Quirian?" Miranda asked.

  "No," Julian said. "We decided to tell you instead. We are your officers now, after all."

  "What do you want to do?" Ascanius asked.

  Miranda let out a deep breath. "What will happen if Quirian finds out?"

  "He'll set a trap for them," Ascanius said. "They'll die, like as not, unless they've got something up their sleeves."

  "And yet if I do nothing then there will be a battle anyway, if a less one-sided fight, and the numbers will still be against Michael," Miranda murmured. "Is there anything that I can do?"

  "If you knew where he was, you could go and talk to him," Octavia said.

  "Yes, I could," Miranda said. "If I knew where he was."

  "I wouldn't recommend it," Ascanius said. "Your brother might be a good lad for all I know, but Gideon Commenae is a bloody fanatic, and he'll kill you if he gets the chance."

  "Then what do you suggest?" Miranda snapped.

  Ascanius and Julian looked at one another once again.

  "It won't work," Julian said. "He doesn't trust us enough."

  "Not for anything else, but he'll go for this," Ascanius said. "He can't afford not to."

  "What are you talking about?" Miranda asked.

  "Ascanius thinks that if we tell Major Skleros where to find the captain, he'll have him arrested," Julian explained. "I don't think he will."

  "Gideon Commenae is the biggest stain on the honour of the Seventh Legion in its eight hundred and something year history," Ascanius said. "It isn't only his nephew who hates him. The whole Seventh would like nothing better than to see him dead."

  "But the major doesn't think much of us, either," Julian said. "I don't think he'll believe us."

  "He doesn't have to believe," Ascanius replied. "Major Skleros wants Gideon. If he lets him slip through his fingers...he won't risk it. He'll even take our word, trust or no."

  Miranda considered it. It would certainly forestall a battle. "What will happen to Michael?"

  Julian shrugged. "He's broken no laws that we no of. I don't expect anything will happen to him."

  "They might question him," Ascanius said. "But they've got nothing on him, as far as we know."

  "Then do it," Miranda said. "Even if it doesn't work it has to be tried. But this is strictly between us. Tell no one. Certainly not Lord Quirian."

  Forgive me, Michael, but I'm doing this for your own good.

  Michael pushed open the door to Dido's House of Pleasures and strode into the parlour. It was mostly empty except for Gideon, Jason, Amy and Elissa. All the rest must have been at work in their rooms.

  "Gideon, I have good news," Michael declared.

  "Emperor's Grace," Gideon muttered, staring at Michael with an expression of mild distaste.

  "It would have to be very good to make up for what's happened to your face," Amy said.

  "Is the news, perhaps, that you had all your teeth knocked out so you could sell them for a small fortune," Jason suggested.

  Michael frowned. "Is it so terrible?"

  "It looks like you got beaten up by an orc," Amy said.

  Michael laughed nervously. "Well, you see-"

  "You don't mean to say you actually fought an orc," Amy said.

  Michael shrugged. "Not by choice. There happened to be an orc at the fighting pit."

  "A fighting pit? Gods preserve us," Jason murmured. "You do realise that those places are illegal? You know the Vigilants raid fighting pits when they discovers their locations? What if you'd been arrested? What if you'd been killed?"

  "Killing is against the rules."

  "That doesn't mean it never happens you poor, naive boy," Gideon growled, getting up from his seat. "You put everything at risk, everything! This news you came in so pleased with had better be absolutely excellent or by the Empress I shall put you over my knee and spank you like the irresponsible child you are."

  "I used spirit magic again," Michael said.

  Gideon stared at him for a moment, his green eyes burrowing into Michael's soul. Abruptly, he turned away. "Explain."

  "Tullia had a sister, Lucilia, she is stricken with a great many ailments and in the care of the physicians at Aulo's hospital," Michael began. He cast a disapproving look at Jason. "I am surprised you have not yet been to see her."

  Jason looked flustered. "I will find some time to do so."

  Michael nodded, that was the correct thing to do. He continued, "One of the nurses, a Filia Terentia, told me that the hospital is in need of money, and that without the Imperial stipend paid due to Tullia's loyal service Lucilia might be cast out. I promised Tullia that I would take care of her sister, have Miranda cure her if she could, but that cannot now obviously. I have no trade nor skill but fighting so I had Filia Terentia and her friends take me to a fighting pit where they bet on me against all comers."

  "How did you do?" Amy asked.

  "I won most of them," Michael said. "But the orc was a troublesome opponent."

  "And that is when you accessed Spirit Magic?" Gideon said.

  "I almost think that it was started from the other side," Michael said. "I did not reach for it or think about it. But Tullia appeared to me, Tullia alone this time, and I became stronger, faster. My pain disappeared. And then I won the fight."

  "How is she?" Jason asked.

  "Happy, I think; concerned for her sister," Michael said.

  Jason nodded distractedly.

  Gideon frowned, looking down at his hands. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, "Spirit magic cannot be initiated from the other side of the veil. If it could be so then every ghost would be constantly going to the aid of their loved ones. You must have done something Michael, concentrate. What were you thinking of when it happened?"

  Michael thought back. "Lucilia. The promise I had made to Tullia."

  Gideon smiled. "I see. It is as I thought. You cannot use spirit magic on a regular basis, but only in times o
f need when your feelings of duty and devotion are at their highest."

  "Will knowing that help me to control it?" Michael asked.

  "Unfortunately not, but I am not sure control is altogether necessary," Gideon said. "After all, when you face Quirian you will be fighting for Miranda, and for all of us. If that does not spur you to Spirit Magic then nothing will. Fortunately we already know that some things do." He smiled briefly, and then affixed Michael with a stern glare. "You were very foolish, Michael, and very irresponsible. And yet it is hard to argue with results, and I suppose I cannot fault your motivation over much. Did you win much money for the young lady?"

  "I did, I think," Michael said. "Filia Terentia seemed to think so."

  "Then I suppose there is no real harm done, save to your face. But don't let it happen again."

  Michael nodded, "Of course not, Gideon."

  Gideon stood up once more. "Everybody get some rest. Tomorrow this ends."

  Unfortunately, for Michael, rest was easier talked of than obtained. Kal's words returned to him whenever he had an idle moment. They stalked him as he lay abed, they followed him wherever he walked, and they haunted him when he considered talking to Amy about it. In the end they drove him from the house altogether, and he was left sitting on the doorstep, trying to appreciate the beauty of the night sky that had fallen over Eternal Pantheia, and trying to distract himself from the Dark Lord's prophecy by identifying the constellations hovering above him.

  From inside, Michael could hear the sounds of the women of the pleasure house about their business. That was another reason he had gone outside, so that he did not have to hear so much. To think of Juno in there, lying on her back while various hideous men - they were all hideous in his imaginings, their bodies swollen with vice and their faces twisted with sin - crawled on her, pawed at her, slobbered over her...it was enough to make him want to draw his blade and use it. The women did not seem unhappy, true...but how could they be happy, suffering so each day?