Miranda straightened her shoulders. Emperor or not, she knew this man and he knew her. He had made her Commander of the Army, given her a goodly share of power and authority in her own right. She had to remember that, and use it to the best of her ability. She was not a mere citizen of the fourth rank any more, she was not a humble country girl dredged up from Corona province. She knew this city and she knew its games, and she could play for life and death if she had to.
As she did now.
The doors were guarded by members of the palace guard. The sergeant banged the butt of his spear upon the marble floor, and the golden doors creaked open.
Prince Antiochus spread his arms wide. "Into the wolf's den."
It was certainly very impressive. The throne room was at least the size of Quirian's entire house, and lined with marble columns from one end almost to the other, stopping at the dais which sat at the far end of the room. In front of the columns closest to the dais there were statues, each one depicting an Emperor or Empress, and Miranda guessed that the more recent the tenure of the throne, the closer to the door the statue would be placed. She wondered what would happen when they ran out of columns. The ceiling beams were trimmed with gold, with reflected the light coming in from windows set high up, at least fifty feet from the floor, and the ceiling itself was painted with images of gods frolicking in the heavenvault. The walls were painted in purple, with gold trim on the top and silver on the bottom, and running through the centre a frieze of triumphant conquest, the stone edged with pearls were it touched the paintwork.
And at the top of the dais sat the throne. Behind it sat a great marble plinth a dozen feet high, but nothing sat upon that plinth that Miranda could see. The throne itself was framed in gold, with arms like the heads of snarling wolves and feet like the cloven hooves of unicorns. It was raised up higher than the height of a man upon a series of iron statues, statues that it took Miranda a moment to recognise as men. Not just men, but soldiers, soldiers with their shields raised onto their shoulders, supporting the burden of the throne and the Emperor above them. The steps leading down from that lofty perch were likewise fashioned to look like legionary shields.
And atop it all, raised up over every other man so that he seemed half godly, judging the world from a great precipice, sat the Emperor.
It was impossible to think of him as Demodocus, to see him sat up there, literally elevated above the common run of men, draped in majestic robes of purple and gold, wearing a gilded crown set with rubies and sapphires, and topped with the representation of a winged unicorn's head and wings. Each finger bore a heavy ring, and in his right hand he carried a glowing blue orb, which he fingered impatiently as Miranda approached.
Miranda was disheartened to see that Portia was not there. Her greatest friend in the palace and she was absent. She felt certain that either the Emperor or Prince Antiochus was behind that, as she trusted Portia enough to believe that she would not willingly abandon her.
It was easy enough to believe that the Empress had been sent away, because a quick glance around the room showed very few friendly faces. Princess Romana's ladies in waiting were as absent as Portia. The Lord Commenae stood not far from the Imperial dais, sour faced and angry, while his wife looked solemn and Helen Manzikes wore triumph in her eyes. The Emperor's guards, who were even more numerous than those of Prince Antiochus, were stony faced and unreadable. Quirian - Miranda was half surprised to see him here - guarded his feelings well. Dux Nikephorus, and the other officers of the army who stood behind him, looked as though they scented blood.
I have no friends in this place, Miranda realised.
Prince Antiochus led them down the centre of the throne room, with all eyes upon them, until he halted his guards, and them, while he himself strode up the dais to stand at the right hand of the Emperor, a look of gloating triumph on his face.
The Emperor stared down at them from his high seat, his face inscrutable.
The silence stretched long and heavy. Miranda felt herself sweating. She cleared her throat, "Your Majesty-"
The Emperor held up his hand. "One moment, please, Filia, if you will. Romana."
Princess Romana took a step forward, brushing her long braid back over her shoulder so that it fell down her back, nearly to her waist. She curtseyed. "Your Majesty."
"I warned you, sister," the Emperor spoke in leaden tones. "Of what would happen if you did not learn a touch of humility to dampen your pride. You have chosen, it seems, not to heed my warning. The Lord Commenae has complaints to make of you."
"I was not aware that you were in the habit of listening to the Lord Commenae, Majesty," Romana said softly. "Had I known I might have trodden more carefully."
"I grow tired of your mockery," the Emperor snapped. "Is it true that you wrested criminals from his custody and conveyed them to our palace, setting your guards to watch over them and keep them safe, though they stand under a sentence of death?"
"No," Romana said. "It is false." The lords and officials in the throne room began to mutter, while the Lord Commenae's face reddened in embarrassment. Only the guards retained a stoic countenance.
"Do you call me a liar, your highness?" the Lord Commenae demanded.
"I call you misguided in your wrath, my lord," Romana replied. "I did come upon the Lord Commenae and a party of his soldiers. Three men I rescued from his tender mercies. Three men I would not call criminals. One is the First Sword of the Empire, anointed by the Divine Empress, Aegea herself, our ancestor. Another my own half brother, Jason. And the last, our dear friend Filia Miranda's brother, come to us from Corona province, with the touch of Aegea upon his brow and the wings of destiny bearing him aloft. Not criminals, but men of great import to the future of this nation, and for that reason I could not suffer them to be harmed, though I must cross the Lord Commenae to preserve them."
"Men of great import," Antiochus scoffed. "Traitors, sorcerers and peasant knaves, those are your men of great import?"
"If there are better men in this room I cannot see them," Romana replied.
"Enough!" bellowed the Emperor, raising his voice so that it carried to the very back of the throne room. "I warned you once, sister, for the love our father bore you I warned you I would suffer no more of your games, your manipulations, your pretensions. You chose to defy me, and continue in your ways. Very well. Let all bear witness!" He stared down at his younger sister, his eyes hard and merciless, and yet to Miranda he seemed a lesser figure, hunched upon his throne, glaring down at her, than the princess did as she stood tall and proud before, undaunted even by the Emperor's wrath and the hostility of the court. She seemed almost taller than the Emperor himself, for all his high throne and raised dais.
"Romana Panthusianus," the Emperor declared. "I, Demodocus, son of Demetrius, by the grace of the gods Emperor of All Pelarius, Liandra, Triazica and All the Lands that Lie Between or May Be Found Beyond, do henceforth strip you of your princely powers and privilege. I strip you of your style, I strip you of your guards, I strip you of your household, I strip you of your diadem and all your treasures and possessions, saving those few which, for love and decency's sake, I will allow you to retain."
Princess Romana - not princess any more, though Miranda found it impossible to think of her as anything else - was very pale, and Miranda could see that she was trembling, though it was so minute she doubted that any of the lords or publicani further away could spot it.
"So," she murmured. "You will cast me out to find a sleeping-place on the streets of the Subura, is that the right of it?"
"No," the Emperor said coldly. "You shall remain here, Lady Romana, as my guest, that I may be ensured of your safety, for the love my father bore you."
"And so that you may be ensured of my good behaviour," Princess Romana said. She sighed. "Ah, brother, you have always looked in the wrong place."
"I am your Emperor," the Emperor shouted. "You call me 'Majesty'!"
Princess Romana curtseyed. "Of course, Your Majesty.
I quite forgot myself. May I ask what is to become of all my household, now that you have broken it up?"
The Emperor stared at her for a moment, and Miranda thought he might refuse to answer. But then he spoke, "Your guards shall be assigned to other companies, split amongst the cohorts so that they may have no opportunity to raise mischief on your behalf. Your officers we shall dispatch out to the provinces, to take up vacant commissions amongst the Imperial Guard. Your ladies in waiting we shall send back to their families, without disgrace, for they have discharged their duties honourably but to one who, in the end, proved herself unworthy of honourable service."
"I certainly have had no cause to complain at their companionship," Romana murmured.
"Your horses and hounds we shall give to our dear brother, as a token of our continued trust," the Emperor continued. "As for your more...eccentric additions to your court, we have given orders to expel them from the palace, from thence they may do as they wish, but if they have contact with you again then they shall pay for it with their lives." For a moment he was silent. "There remains only the matter of your cupbearer, Hyllia Nemon Filius. She has many times insulted our brother's cupbearer, and threatened violence against her, though one is a princess of Arginusa and the other a common girl of no birth from the most wretched slum in this city."
"Your regard for Hyllia is evident, Your Majesty," Romana said. "May I ask why you have not ordered her expelled with the others?"
"We will," Antiochus said, smirking triumphantly. "But first an object lesson is in order, for both of you. Bring her!"
A door at behind the dais opened and two soldiers dragged a struggling Hyllia into the throne room. Behind them marched a sergeant with a scourge in his hands.
"God, you can't be serious," Miranda gasped.
Princess Romana had paled even further. "No."
"Princess!" Hyllia shouted. "What's going on? I told these two you'd have their heads cut off if they touched me, but they said you couldn't do that any more. What do they mean?"
"It means your mistress is no princess, and she never was, you insolent brat," Antiochus snapped. "She is nothing now, the same as you. And you are both about to learn the penalty for trying to rise above your station."
"You speak of the love our father bore me," Romana said. "But if you ever loved me yourself you will spare the girl, or else let me be lashed on her behalf."
The Emperor looked away. "That would not be seemly."
"But this is?" Miranda demanded. "Your Majesty, your highness, this is a child."
"I'm not a child, I'm almost ten!" Hyllia interjected.
"Lessons must be taught," Antiochus said.
"Not so harshly, not so young," Miranda replied. "Your Majesty, please. I thought you a good man, a virtuous man. I beg of you not to disappoint me."
The Emperor said nothing, he would not even meet her eyes.
Miranda looked around the room: the high born lords and ladies, the officers in their fine uniforms, the functionaries and officials of the court with ink stained hands and straining waistlines.
"Will you do nothing but watch?" Miranda demanded. "Is this the greatness of the Empire? Is this what Aegea intended for her Empire to become? Will none of you speak? Is there not a single gentleman present in this room?"
The Lord Commenae looked away in embarrassment. Lady Commenae's expression did not change at all.
Miranda looked at Quirian, imploring him to say something, but he did not. He seemed to be waiting to see what she would do. See what I told you? he seemed to be saying to her. See how cruel this country is.
"Speaking as a soldier," old Dux Nikephorus said, looking as though he was having to force out every word required. "I have seen strong, brave men broken by a flogging, some of them have even died from it. I can't say I like the idea of treating a little girl the way I'd treat a man under arms."
"Loathe as I am to agree with Filia Miranda about anything," Helen Manzikes said assuredly. "I would hate even more to give her legitimate reasons to despise our class, not when some people have already given her so many illegitimate reasons. She speaks true; this is unworthy of a great power and of us as masters of the same."
"We will not remain masters of a great power for long if the plebs think that they can mock us with impunity," Antiochus said. "Majesty, give the command."
The Emperor said nothing, he seemed to have been stricken by conscience, or else he had become aware of how many of the lords he had summoned here were put into discomfort at the display.
Antiochus' face twisted in disgust. "Get on with it!"
"Your Majesty!" Miranda shouted. "You told me that you did not seek to become Emperor, but that being Emperor you wished to be thought a good and just ruler. Is this goodness? Is this justice?"
The Emperor was still and silent, so that he might have been as much a gilded ornament to the throne as any of the gold soldiers who supported him upon their shields. "The girl will be spared. As you have requested, Lady Romana, you shall suffer the strokes of the lash in her place. But in private, and not before my loyal lords and gentlemen."
"No!" Hyllia shouted. "Princess, you don't have to, I'm not afraid."
"She is no princess!" Antiochus shouted. "Not any more."
"Yes she is!" Hyllia cried. "Long live Princess Romana!"
"Hyllia," Romana said firmly. "That's quite enough."
Antiochus' lip curled in disgust. "Take the brat away and toss her out the gate. Take...Lady Romana...to a private cell. Prepare her for her lashing."
As the prince's guards moved forward there was the sound of blades drawn from their scabbards as the Princess' guards drew swords against the protectors of the Prince and Emperor.
"Are you mad, Thrakes?" demanded Major Otacilius, the jowly commander of the Emperor's Household Foot. "Put up your sword!"
"Begging the major's pardon," Captain Thrakes replied. "But I do not serve the Emperor, or take my orders from you. I serve the Princess, and you will not harm her while I live."
Prince Antiochus laughed. "You think that your nine men can defeat my hundred?"
"As I said, not while I live," Captain Thrakes replied.
"Put up your sword, captain," Romana said quietly.
"Your Highness..."
"I will not have the sons of Aegea shedding one another's blood in the heart of the Empire's power," Romana said loudly. "Put up your sword. I offered my body as surety for Hyllia's sake, and I am prepared to make good upon the offer. I can hardly do less now, can I?" She turned to Miranda, and curtsied. "Goodbye, Filia Miranda."
Miranda bowed her head. "Goodbye for now, Lady Romana."
Romana held her head high as she allowed Prince Antiochus' guards to lead her away. Though she was about to have her back lashed - and Miranda knew what that would look like, having tended to flogging victims in order to save their lives (but not to remove their scars, as that had been forbidden) - she showed no fear or trepidation. She might have been taking a walk through the gardens for all the nerves that she displayed.
God grant you maintain that strength throughout your ordeal, Miranda thought.
"Good, that is all settled," the Emperor said. "There remains the matter of the three prisoners."
"If it please Your Majesty," Miranda said. "I would ask for mercy on their behalf."
"Mercy?" the Lord Commenae demanded. "You ask for mercy? Gideon Commenae killed my father."
"And I sure your own father, famed as he is for his martial skills, was responsible for leaving many orphans in the wake of his triumphs on the battlefield, my lord," Miranda replied.
"That is completely beside the point," he spat. "All that my father killed, he killed in war."
"Go speak to those who grew up without fathers, my lord, and ask them if it consoles them to know their fathers died in honourable combat," Miranda said sharply.
"You would deny the Lord Commenae his right to vengeance?" Quirian asked.
Miranda looked him in the eye. "I would, where it
seems to me his vengeance will do more harm than good."
"What harm will be done by the exit of the world from one irredeemably wicked man?" the Lord Commenae demanded.
"You have not sought the death of one irredeemably wicked man," Miranda said. "You have sought the deaths of three men, two of whom have committed no crime under secular law."
"What of the church's law?" Prince Antiochus asked.
"What of it indeed, your highness, it is not my church," Miranda replied.
"One of the three is your brother, is he not, Filia?" the Emperor asked. "Might we suggest you are not thinking clearly?"
"You may suggest that, Your Majesty, if I may suggest that the Lord Commenae is self-evidently not thinking clearly," Miranda said. "Yes, Michael is my brother. Yes, I do not want to see him die. Yet I would not be here arguing for his life if he had done something worthy of being put to death."
"Consorting with a traitor, harbouring a fugitive, drawing swords against the Emperor's soldiers, are these not crimes enough?" the Lord Commenae said.
"As I understand, my lord, you broke into a private establishment to seize your uncle," Miranda said. "I daresay many men would go armed to confront armed intruders."
"And the other charges?"
"You do not know that Michael knew that Gideon was a traitor."
"But you concede he is one?"
"Yes!" Miranda shouted. "Do as you like with your uncle, send him to the Black Abyss for all I care, but do not harm my brother, he has done nothing."
"He has consorted with my brother also," Prince Antiochus said. "Will you say he did not know that Jason was a sorcerer?"
"Sorcery is not an offence, to devout Turonim," Miranda said.
"But this is not a Turonim nation," the Emperor pointed out.
"Nor is it a Novar state, Your Majesty," Miranda said. "Was this country not founded under the faith of Aegea, the Divine Empress?"
Spirit of the Sword: Faith and Virtue (The First Sword Chronicles Book 2) Page 29