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

by Frances Smith

  Miranda's eyebrows rose. "None at all?"

  "No. What should I regret, Filia?"

  "Antagonising your family?" Miranda suggested.

  "I will not apologise for speaking the truth," Romana said sharply. "Not when the survival of the Empire is at stake. Tell me, Filia Miranda, how is Quirian of Aureliana these days?"

  Miranda scowled. "How much did Michael tell you?"

  "Enough," Romana said. "What does he want, this foe out of the Empire's past?"

  "To see the Empire fall," Miranda admitted.

  "And replaced by what? Charred ashes?"

  "The old world," Miranda said. "City states and petty kingdoms."

  "The old world," Romana whispered. She began to laugh. "Empress grace, the old world. Old age has not made Quirian wise, it seems."

  "You find the notion ridiculous?" Miranda asked.

  "Nine hundred years of rule by a single power," Romana said. "Nine hundred years as part of a single state. Nine hundred years of citizenship, nine hundred years of unfettered trade and movement from the north of Triazica to the Mavenorian frontier, nine hundred years of peace. Do you honestly believe that the people of Pelarius can simply return to isolation and self-governance? Would they even know how? At most you would see a hundred miniature Empires springing up across the land, each following Imperial law, each raising Imperial armies, each claiming to be the one true heir to the Empire itself as they all feuded amongst themselves to bring all the land once more under their sphere. Is that what Quirian wants?"

  "It is what I want that matters now, your highness," Miranda murmured. "Lord Quirian has left the choice entirely in my hands. Shall the Empire stand or fall, is up to me."

  Romana stared at her. "Is that so? And how, pray, will you accomplish the Empire's fall if that is the preference you plump for?"

  "With my magic," Miranda said. "With my golems."

  Romana was silent for a moment. "Have you come to kill me then? Will my death presage the Empire's destruction? Do you fear me so much in my chains and my cell that you must see to my death personally?"

  "Of course not," Miranda said in disgust.

  "Then why tell me that you mean to bring down all that I hold most dear?"

  "I don't mean to do anything," Miranda snapped. "I haven't made my mind up yet."

  Romana said, "Then why are you here? To offer to wash away my scars? To ease my pain? Why are you telling me that you may decide to destroy all that I hold most dear?"

  Miranda tilted her head a little. "I want you to give me a reason."

  "A reason?"

  "A reason why this country deserves to survive. Why should the Empire not be destroyed?"

  Romana said nothing.

  "Well?" Miranda demanded.

  "A reason for you or a reason for Quirian?" Romana asked.

  "Both," Miranda replied.

  Romana smiled. "There are millions upon millions of reasons to preserve the Empire, Filia, you know some of them yourself."

  Miranda chuckled. "You appeal to the lives of the Empire's citizens? I thought you would make a speech."

  Romana shook her head. "My calls to greatness and to destiny never moved you yet, Filia, why would they move you now? I have made my peace with the fact that I cannot understand your view nor you mine. All I can do is appeal to you on behalf of all those myriad souls who are at risk from you."

  "Because you say that they could not survive in the old world," Miranda said.

  "I have grave doubts that all Quirian wants is a return to the old world," Romana replied.

  "It is all that I would consent to," Miranda said.

  "When he has the blade Semper Fidelis, what need has he of your consent?" Romana asked mildly.

  "If he wanted to kill me he would have by now," Miranda said.

  "Perhaps," Romana murmured. "What news of your brother?"

  Miranda hesitated. "Really? I want to talk to you about the fate of the Empire and you want to talk about Michael?"

  "Michael's fate is the fate of the Empire," Romana said. "If he becomes First Sword then together we will lead this country into a golden age."

  Miranda laughed. She couldn't have done anything else if she'd wanted to. "Honestly? There are times when I don't believe that you can hear yourself. You're in a dungeon cell, stripped of your rank, abandoned by everyone-"

  "I have not been abandoned," Romana said.

  "How do you know?" Miranda demanded. "Has anyone else been to visit you?"

  "I have faith in my friends," Romana said. "You never answered my question; how is your brother?"

  "Why do you care?" Miranda said. "I am the one who holds the Empire in her hands, not him."

  "But when you make the right choice, as I am confident you will, it will be to Michael that the Empire will look," Romana said. "To the First Sword, not to Aurelia's heir."

  Miranda snorted. "Gideon Commenae is dead. If Michael is to become First Sword it will happen soon, or not at all."

  "Dead?" Romana asked. "What a pity. You are correct, if Michael is to assume the title, then the Empress will anoint him soon. You have him safely in your hands?"

  "He is safe," Miranda said. She sighed. "What should I do?"

  "You know my thoughts, Filia," Romana said. "May I ask, if you dislike the Empire so much, why you are hesitating now?"

  "Portia," Miranda said.

  Romana chuckled. "And so the fate of the Empire rests upon sweet Portia's lovely shoulders. How... strange. Could you really do it? Destroy the Empire? Turn your magic and your golems against the people?"

  Miranda frowned. "I... I don't know. I only know that I have to make a choice."

  "Are you prepared for the consequences that will follow whatever choice you make?" Romana asked.

  Miranda hesitated. "Yes," she said eventually, but her voice was quiet, and she could not have answered with any certainty if she believed it. She stood up. "I should go."

  "Please, Filia," Romana said. "Don't give up on this country yet."

  "I haven't given up on it," Miranda replied. "But I am finding, I have always found, that it is a very hard country to believe in."

  She turned away, and climbed back up the steps, the tap-tapping of her walking cane preceding her until she had emerged from the darkness and into the light of the palace. Octavia was waiting for her there, along with a sergeant of the guard who locked the door behind Miranda.

  "How was she?" Octavia asked.

  "Proud," Miranda said. "As tenacious as ever. Whatever this has done it has not dented her self-confidence."

  Octavia smiled. "What now?"

  Miranda began to lead the way into the warmer and more inviting areas of the palace, moving through streams of slaves and officials like a fish swimming against the current. "Now I am exactly where I was before, with a decision to make and no idea how to make it. What would you do, if you were me?"

  Octavia said, "I... I can't imagine things being different from the way they are. That you can... I think that's amazing."

  "That's just the problem, I don't think I can imagine it either," Miranda said. "I can't really conceive of what the world would be like without the Empire. If I could I might find it easier to make this decision."

  "Perhaps you should just leave things the way they are," Octavia said.

  "No, I can't do that," Miranda said. "If I spare the Empire then I must change it. If I thought anyone would let me then I would be much happier about things." She stopped. "Romana is out of the game. She has lost, no matter what she says or even thinks. It is between Demodocus, Antiochus and Quirian. Which do I choose?"

  "Antiochus would hurt Portia, almost for sure," Octavia said.

  "I'm afraid you're right," Miranda murmured. "I fear Quirian would too. And yet... Demodocus? His wife is lovely, but what he did to Romana..."

  "He's been kind to you," Octavia said. "More than kind. I think he trusts you more than Quirian does. I think, maybe, I think that he would let you change this country more than A
ntiochus would."

  Miranda nodded at that. Antiochus had treated her more like the hired help than anything else. Demodocus had given her a major office, and had offered her further honours that she had rejected. Did she have the right to turn against him after that?

  Did she have the right to weasel out of doing the right thing merely for the sake of the office of Commander of the Army? Or even for Portia's friendship?

  Yet isn't being loyal to one's friends part of the right thing?

  "Commander! Commander Callistus!" an officer of the Household foot called out her name as he ran through the press of constantly-moving palace functionaries towards her. "Commander Callistus, thank the gods you are here. Come with me at once."

  "Why, what's wrong?" Miranda.

  "The Empress has collapsed. She's been taken to her room and you are to go there at once. Follow me."

  Miranda followed as quickly as she could, and when she could not follow quickly enough she had Octavia pick her up and carry her along in the young officer's wake, all the while she fired questions at him.

  "What was she doing when she fainted?"

  "She was taking a stroll through the gardens."

  "Had she eaten or drunk anything?"

  "Not since breakfast, ma'am, lunch had not been served yet."

  "Has she been ill recently?"

  "I really don't know anything, ma'am, I was just told to bring you at once," the officer admitted.

  "Do you think that Prince Antiochus did this?" Octavia whispered into Miranda's ear.

  "It's more subtle than his last attempt," Miranda replied. "I hope that this just an illness of some kind."

  The guards officer led them into the Empress' quarters, and from there past Portia's luxurious dressing rooms, maids' quarters, rooms of the ladies in waiting (empty, since the ladies had been dismissed by Portia after hearing them gossiping about her behind her back) and guards' quarters into Portia's bedchamber. Octavia set Miranda down upon a floor of tiled marble, while the guards upon the door - from the Empress' guard and that of the Emperor himself - stood aside for her.

  Miranda walked in, to see Portia lying on the bed, her eyes open, though fluttering a little as though she was struggling to stay awake. Demodocus - as it had been possible not see him as the Emperor when he sat in stern justice of his sister, now it was impossible not to see him as Demodocus as he sat by his wife's bedside, holding her hand and staring at her in solicitous helplessness - was with her, and his eyes sparked with hope as he saw Miranda come in.

  "Filia Miranda, I mean...never mind," Demodocus said. "Praise Aulo that you were here when this happened. It was so sudden I... thank the gods you are here."

  Portia sighed. "I'm alright, darling, I told you. I'm sorry if you rushed here, Miranda, but it's really nothing."

  "I'm told you that you fainted in the garden," Miranda said. "I wouldn't call that nothing." Not necessarily anyway.

  "I just..." Portia sighed. "I don't want everyone to worry."

  "We worry anyway, because we care for you," Miranda said. "Excuse me, your majesty."

  "Of course," Demodocus said, getting up from his chair and retreating to the other side of the room as Miranda sat down in his recently vacated seat.

  Portia smiled. "Octavia. How are you, dear?"

  Octavia bowed her head. "I'm very well, thank you, Portia."

  "Splendid," Portia murmured.

  Miranda felt Portia's forehead. "You're a little warm, and you sound tired."

  Portia yawned. "I have... I have been feeling a little weary. I'm sorry that I wasn't there when everyone was talking about your brother and his friends, but I just didn't feel like I could get up. I hear you were magnificent."

  Miranda smiled. "Hardly."

  "You do yourself a disservice, commander," Demodocus said. "The look on that pompous arse Lord Commenae when you dismissed him from his command is one I hope to treasure for many years to come. On the subject of my wife's health, she has fallen asleep more quickly than usual for several nights, when I've been there."

  "I hoped that a walk around the garden might invigorate me a little," Portia said.

  "I see," Miranda murmured. Could it be? "Before you fainted, were you out of breath at all?"

  Portia frowned ever so slightly. "Often lately, yes."

  "Headaches? Any soreness?"

  Portia gave a minute nod. "Sometimes. My back hurts, and my breasts feel so sore for some reason."

  "Mmm, they look a little bigger, too," Miranda murmured, before realising what she'd just said. "I mean...Octavia..."

  Octavia looked more amused than offended. "I've got your heart. I don't need your eyes all the time."

  Miranda sighed. "Your Majesty-"

  Demodocus laughed. "Portia is beautiful, Miranda, I know it well enough. Let men stare, and women too it seems. Let them stare and be envious, why should I fear their gaze?"

  "Ahem, yes, well," Miranda felt her face begin to burn a little. "Um, Portia, this may tickle a little but don't move." She laid her palm flat on Portia's belly, and summoned her magic to her, applying it in a gentle trickle, letting probe down into Portia, letting it scout through her like a snake hunting for its prey, telling her what it found. Her palm began to glow with a pale blue as she began to hear the whispering of her probing magic in her mind.

  Is that...? Oh, my word.

  "Octavia, would you mind stepping outside and closing the door."

  One of the guards on the door stuck his head around it. "Majesty?"

  Demodocus nodded. "It's fine."

  "Call if you need me," Octavia said, as she left the room and shut the door after her.

  "Miranda?" Portia murmured. "What's wrong?"

  Miranda smiled. "Nothing is wrong. Nothing at all." Her smile widened. "You're with child."

  Portia's beautiful blue eyes widened. "I...really?"

  Miranda nodded. "Really."

  "Praise the gods!" Demodocus roared, and Miranda had to scramble up from her chair and out of the way lest she be crushed in his eagerness to embrace his wife. They were both laughing. Their voices were so full of joy. Portia was practically glowing with happiness.

  "A baby," she said. "I'm going have a baby. I'm going to have a baby!"

  Miranda watched them, almost forgotten, from the edge of the room. They were so enraptured by her news. So full of life and love. As she watched Demodocus take Portia in her arms, as she watched him kiss her over and over again, as she watched Portia's expression of perfect contentment, she found she could not bear to even consider that that happiness might ever be taken away, might ever be tarnished, might ever be destroyed.

  This is my choice. I choose them. I choose their joy, I choose their happiness, I choose their lives, I choose their family. I will protect them, all three of them, for as long as I must.

  "Miranda," Portia said, seeming reinvigorated by her glee. "Miranda, thank you, thank you so much."

  Miranda shook her head. "I did nothing, Portia, but deliver the news."

  Portia smiled. "Thank you for everything." She looked at Demodocus. "Demodocus, darling, I would like to name Miranda as guardian to our baby, when she is born."

  Miranda's eyebrows rose. "Guardian of your child? Me?" As the infant prince or princesses guardian she would, amongst other things, be expected to raise the baby should any harm befall its parents, even though Miranda meant to ensure that nothing did. She would become a second mother to the heir to the Imperial throne. She would... "Portia...I'm only..."

  "Only my friend," Portia said. "My best friend. My only friend. That matters more to me than what you were born or where you come from."

  "And, as Commander of the Army, you are a far more respectable choice than you think, Miranda," Demodocus said. "The patricians will not like it, but then they don't like me much either, so why I should care a whit for their opinions. Will you accept?"

  "Please say you will, Miranda, it would mean so much to both of us," Portia said.

  Miranda
closed her eyes. And why not, after all? I've come this far, what is one more step? "Very well, I would be honoured and delighted to accept this trust you offer me."

  Portia clapped her hands. "Wonderful! This has become the best day of my life!"

  Miranda smiled fondly. "And I have a gift for you, for both of you. My golem army... and myself. Since I came to this city I have found myself serving ever more masters. I have worked for Lord Quirian, I have worked for Prince Antiochus, and I have served you, Majesty, as your Commander of the Army. Others, too, have tried to enlist me to their cause. But no more. From now on, Your Majesty, I serve you. And only you. I will command your army, I will command your golems, and I will keep you safe, the both of you."

  Demodocus rose from his seat. "I thank you, Filia. And I, in turn, will strive to be worthy of the service of so extraordinary a woman."

  "You must come here, to live with us," Portia said. "You can leave Lord Quirian's house, and be close by. There is plenty of room."

  "Yes, you could move into Romana's chambers," Demodocus said.

  Miranda frowned. "You mean to keep your sister in the dungeons, then?"

  "No, but she will not need a princess' quarters now that she is not a princess," Demodocus said.

  "Please come, Miranda," Portia said.

  Miranda smiled. "How can I refuse?"

  Portia laughed. "We will be as sisters, you and I. Everything is going to be absolutely perfect."

  "Yes, yes it will," Miranda said.

  "If there is anything that I can do for you," Demodocus said. "You have but to ask."

  Miranda hesitated for a moment, wondering if she dared. "My brother and his friends. Their transgressions... they meant no harm. If Your Majesty could-"

  "I will see them pardoned for all their acts, Miranda, even Jason," Demodocus said. "Though try to keep them out of trouble in future."

  Miranda grinned. "I will certainly do my best, your majesty. If I might also have their belongings, I can return them all."

  "If they have committed no crimes, why should they not have their property," Demodocus said.

  "Your Majesty is too kind."

  "If anyone is worthy of kindness, Miranda, it is you," Demodocus replied.

  There was a knocking on the door. "Your Majesty?"