"What?" Demodocus demanded.
The door was opened by Major Otacilius, the portly commander of the Emperor's guard. "Majesty, members of the Livius, Rutulus, Lacus and Salinator families have arrived at the palace. They request an audience with Your Majesty."
Demodocus groaned. "A perfect day, indeed. Commander Callistus, may I impose and ask you to deal with this."
Miranda blinked. "Me?"
"I have no patience with their nonsense at the moment, and I have no wish for this good mood of mine to be destroyed," Demodocus said. "Besides, you are the Commander of the Army, one of my councillors, and more. I have every confidence in your to hear them out and deal with it, or at least convey whatever they want to me in a nicer form."
"Of course, Your Majesty, I will do my utmost to oblige," Miranda said, bowing.
"When you are finished," Portia said. "We will go to the temple of Elyo, and light candles in thanks."
Miranda said, "That sounds lovely."
She did not sit upon the throne. It would have felt too presumptive, not to mention all those steps. Instead Miranda had them fetch her a chair, which she placed on the right hand side of the gaudy throne, and set herself down on it with Octavia by her side.
"Are you alright with all this?" Miranda asked. "Moving into the palace, leaving Lord Quirian?"
"If he'll allow it, yes," Octavia said. "I mean...it will be strange... but as long as I'm with you, then I'm not afraid of anything."
Miranda smiled. "I'm glad." She gestured to the officer of the palace guard standing near the door. "Let them in."
The great doors into the throne room groaned open, and the delegation of the noble houses strode in.
It was who Miranda had expected: Lady Junia Livius, Lady Harmonia Rutulus Castra, the Honourable Euphemia Salinator and Elylyona Castra. Until recently they had been Princess Romana's ladies in waiting, and from that Miranda guessed at two possibilities for the purpose of their visit: either to ask for clemency from their erstwhile mistress, or to throw her to the wolves and beg the Emperor to let their families out of the cold. Miranda leaned towards the former, if only because she saw no reason their fathers and grandfathers would not have come in person to renounce the fallen princess.
Still, I suppose now we will see what Romana's faith is worth.
"Ladies," Miranda said. "It is good to see you again."
The throne room was not nearly so crowded as it had been on the day that Demodocus had denounced his sister and sent her to the cells, but there a reasonable number of officials and hangers on watching the four women as they walked down the central traverse. At the bottom of the dais was a scribe recording Miranda's words. Miranda did her best to ignore him for fear that she would be overcome by nerves.
"Filia Miranda," Lady Junia said slowly, her voice appearing calm, but her eyes betraying uncertainty. She was the third daughter of Lord Livius, with soft, earthy brown eyes like fertile soil, and black hair tied back in a severe bun. "It is...a trifle surprising to see you here. We had requested an audience with His Imperial Majesty."
"His Imperial Majesty is indisposed," Miranda replied. “As Commander of the Imperial Army I will hear what you have to say and relay your concerns to the Emperor."
"No doubt you will, Filia," Harmonia said. She was the second daughter of Lord Rutulus, plump and round-faced with mousy hair and watery eyes. Her tone was a little more harsh than Junia's, barely staying on the right side of respectful. "But will you convey our words, or your impressions? Will you relay honestly what we said, or will you condemn us into the Emperor's ear some place where we cannot defend ourselves."
Miranda leaned forwards. "You have my word that I will give you a fair hearing, and fairly convey your meaning to His Majesty."
"The word of what?" Harmonia demanded. "You have no line in whose honour you may cloak yourself; not too long ago you were Prince Antiochus' man."
"I serve the Emperor now," Miranda said.
"And yet you would have us trust in your integrity," Harmonia said.
Miranda's eyes narrowed. "If you do not want to speak to me that is, of course, your right. If that is so then you may leave, and try for an audience with the Emperor some other time. But if you think to bully me out of my seat, Lady Harmonia, you have another thing coming."
Euphemia leaned over to whisper in Junia's ear. Euphemia was only a granddaughter, the granddaughter to Lord Salinator. Miranda thought that she was the youngest of the four, a blonde ingenue with curls in her hair. Whatever she had said, Junia nodded at it.
"You have given us your word, Filia, and we will take you at your word," Junia said.
"For now," Harmonia added.
"I'm touched by your trust," Miranda muttered. "I'm also surprised that Vespasia isn't here to make up the set."
The ladies exchanged glances.
"Vespasia's father has found it more profitable to seek other sources of patronage," Elylyona murmured. She was only a 'natural born' daughter, a bastard child of Lord Lacus. She was also the prettiest of the ladies in waiting, with her red hair, blue and beguiling doe eyes and pale skin like snow.
"More profitable meaning Prince Antiochus, I suppose," Miranda said. "So much for the faith of Romana. Very well, what is it that you wished to see His Majesty about?"
"The release of Princess Romana, of course," Junia said.
Miranda nodded. "I am assured that Romana will be released from her present confinement in due course. In the meantime I have seen her myself and I assure you that she is well."
"I am afraid," Junia said. "That that is a detail on which we cannot trust in your integrity, Filia Miranda."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning how do we know that you haven't already murdered her?" Euphemia demanded.
Miranda's eyes widened. "You suspect His Majesty to be capable of such a thing?"
Harmonia said, "Who can say what a man who sent his own sister to the cells when she had committed no crime might be capable of?"
Miranda said, "You were Romana's companions, closer to her than any others. You know how close to treason she skated."
"We know nothing of the sort," Euphemia declared. "All Princess Romana did was serve the Empire."
"She is no princess," Miranda said. "The Emperor stripped her of her Imperial titles."
"Then he must reinstate them at the same time as he releases her and restores her to her proper place," Junia said.
"Must?" Miranda asked.
"Such titles as the princess possesses are hers by blood right," Junia continued. "They are not in the Emperor's gift to give or to take away. That is why we demand not only that the Emperor release his sister and restore all her titles and privileges, but that he swear sacred oaths before the gods and before the Divine Empress to respect all titles and rights of the nobility."
Miranda smirked. "So this is what this is really about? You are afraid that if Romana can be stripped of everything, so can you. I notice you didn't raise a fuss when Helen Manzikes was denied her title."
"That," Junia said. "May have been a mistake. We would, of course, demand that Lady Manzikes be acknowledged as the head of a patrician family."
"Of course," Miranda said. "May I ask what position you think you are in to demand anything from the throne?"
"Princess Romana has dreamed herself upon the throne," Euphemia said. "You should be careful, Filia."
"Romana dreamed my brother dead, but he still lives," Miranda said, passing over the fact that he had, in fact, died.
"We represent four of the Empire's great families," Harmonia declared. "And to defend the rights of the patricians others will not be slow in joining us. The Commenae and the Manzikes have no reason to love the throne."
"And the publicani have no cause to love you," Miranda said.
"The publicani follow Prince Antiochus," Elylyona said. "The patricians follow Princess Romana or the Lord Commenae. Who follows the Emperor, Filia, to make you so confident?"
"I do," Miranda d
eclared.
Junia said, "Filia Miranda, the Emperor's brazen trampling upon tradition and precedent, his tyrannical approach to justice, his disdain for kinship, that most sacred of ties, the repeated insults that the patricians have endured at the hands of the Emperor and his wife... he threatens to shatter the Empire. Is that what you want?"
"What I want," Miranda said coldly. "Is to defend Their Majesties. That I will do, in spite of all your threats."
Euphemia opened her mouth, but was silenced by a raised hand from Junia.
"I concede," Junia began carefully. "That we have perhaps been a little overzealous in our mission. Please, Filia Miranda, nobody here desires a confrontation. We merely wish to be reassured that our dear friend is safe and our interests are secure. And to be frank I am surprised to find you so hostile to Princess Romana, who always treated you with far more kindness than, bluntly, your station warranted."
Miranda chuckled. "That is true enough, perhaps. And it is also true that I am not ill-disposed towards Romana. Had you taken a softer approach from the first we might have understood each other better. I think that His Majesty will release Romana, but I will speak to him and see if I cannot persuade him to be quicker about it." At this point he'd probably agree to give me the throne itself if I asked it of him. "As to your other...requests, I will bring them tactfully before His Majesty, but I must counsel patience from you all."
"We can be patient," Harmonia said. "If the release and restoration of Princess Romana is accomplished swiftly, as proof of His Majesty's goodwill."
"Release will be swift, I guarantee it," Miranda said boldly. "Restoration will require patience. Will release be sufficient to prove good will?"
"It will prove your good faith in dealing with us," Harmonia said. "Which is more than can be said of His Imperial Majesty."
"We will trust you a little while, Filia Miranda," Junia said.
"Thank you," Miranda replied. "Is that all?"
Junia nodded. "That is all, Filia. Good day." She turned to go. "Oh, Filia, one more thing."
"Yes?"
"Being an Imperial favourite is a treacherous business," Junia said. "You will be rewarded, honoured, made much of. And then you will carry the blame when things start going wrong. Be careful."
Miranda smiled. "Since I arrived in this city there has been no shortage of people telling me I must be careful. Perhaps it is time that other people started being careful of me?"
Junia said, "Perhaps we already are, Filia. Goodbye, and good fortune."
As they left, Octavia leaned down and said, "What happens now?"
"Now," Miranda said. "I have two conversations: asking the Emperor to let his sister go and telling Lord Quirian that I have decided to forsake his cause. I wonder which one will be the more uncomfortable."
Quirian leaned back in his chair in his private chambers, surrounded by the statues of his friends and kinsfolk long perished at the hands of the Empire. In his hands, Semper Fidelis glittered in the candle light. "So, you have chosen the Empire," he said softly. "I see."
Miranda blinked. "Is that all you have to say?"
"You have made your decision, Filia, what would you have me say?"
"I...I don't know," Miranda murmured. She had expected… what? Rage? Grief? Despair? Something more than this calm acceptance of the situation, that was certain. "I thought you would be angry."
Quirian smiled thinly. "I told you, Filia, that I left this choice entirely in your hands."
"Yes, but," Miranda hesitated a moment, her eyes flickering to the sword that Quirian held.
He glanced down at the weapon himself, and gave a chuckle. "Do you imagine that I am about to attack you, Filia? Do you fear that I will strike you down and take your power for myself?"
"A little," Miranda admitted.
"I am a man of my word, Filia," Quirian said. "I gave you a choice, and you have made a decision."
"Not the decision that you wanted," Miranda pointed.
"No," Quirian said. "No, it was not." For a moment, he was silent. "May I ask why?"
"Because Portia is dear to me, as is her happiness," Miranda said. "Dearer than almost anything else."
"Dearer to you than justice?"
"I am not sure how much justice there truly is in destruction," Miranda replied. "The Crimson Rose talked much of justice, freedom and liberty, but what they were really about was murdering all those who did not support them. I have no wish to become the Crimson Rose, with more power at my fingertips than they could have conceived of."
Quirian nodded. "And so the suffering of my people, the evils that the Empire has done, none of it means anything, compared to friendship?"
"Did Tyronia do no evils?" Miranda asked. "Were the hands of the Aurelians so clean?"
"Cleaner than the wolf's paws," Quirian said sharply.
"I am not blind, my lord," Miranda said. "I know well what this country is. I see its faults more clearly than most. I am not my brother, to romanticise this place and the system that has produced it-"
"No, it appears that you are simply uncaring of the suffering it has produced," Quirian said.
"Please, my lord, listen to me!" Miranda snapped. "I know that you have suffered, I know that you have sacrificed, but what you ask of me would cause untold suffering to those who have done you no wrong."
"And how many will suffer as a result of your choice today?"
"None," Miranda said firmly. "As Commander of the Army, as guardian to the infant prince or princess, as the Emperor's councillor, as an Imperial favourite I can do things. I can make changes. I can reform this country from the top to the foundations. Demodocus told me that he would strive to be an Emperor worthy of my service. Is that not a better way? Is that not a cleaner way, a more virtuous way? A way in which no one has to die, in which no innocents need suffer for the crimes of their forbears? In which no one must grow up motherless and alone, as I did?"
Quirian regarded her keenly, his eyes gazing into her own. He glanced away, his gaze resting upon the statues of his fallen friends, his comrades of the Lyceum who had fought with him in the hills of Saba. He stared at them, and occasionally his lips would move, as if he were attempting to commune with their souls.
He looked at Miranda once again. "As I have said, Filia, I am a man of my word. You have chosen, and I will abide by that. I wish you the best of luck in your chosen course."
Miranda blinked. "Will Prince Antiochus be terribly angry with you?"
"He will be vexed at your desertion, but I can handle him," Quirian said lightly. "I would be more concerned for yourself, Filia."
Miranda smiled. "I, too, think I can handle him. And Octavia?"
"What of her?"
"Will you release her from your service, so that she and I may be together at the palace?"
Quirian hesitated, and for a moment Miranda feared he would refuse her. But then he said, "Yes, why not? It would be rather petty of me to refuse, wouldn't it?"
Miranda smiled. "You are a good man, my lord. One of the best."
Quirian smiled back. "And you are a rare, extraordinary woman, Filia. You may leave when you are ready, but it has been a pleasure to have you as my guest. And, if I may be permitted, may I give you one final piece of advice?"
"Of course."
"There is no finer thing than to find true companionship," Quirian said. "To forge a bond with others so close that your hearts almost seem to beat as one. But be wary. Such bonds can do as much harm as good. When they break, it feels almost like dying oneself."
"I do not intend for my bonds to ever break," Miranda said. "In fact I mean to ensure that they do not."
"So do we all, Filia, so do we all," Quirian said wistfully. "And yet... in this matters, fate, I fear, has a will that is all its own."
XVI
Eulogy
I do not like this," Wyrrin muttered. "I do not like it at all."
"Waiting?" Jason asked.
"Confinement," Wyrrin replied. "It reminds me
of the slave cabin."
Michael chuckled. "Wyrrin, had you been a gladiator for longer you would have known tighter quarters than this by far. I spent seven years of my life in a pen that was to this as a walnut shell to a dog-kennel. And yet I take your meaning, for in that cage my soul soared free, yet here it is not only the night that seems dark and oppressive."
"I would rather fight a hopeless battle against a host of foes than stay stuck in this place forever," Wyrrin said. "If death is our only choice, I would rather meet it under the sun and sky than hide from it behind enclosing walls."
"Rather hard to fight a battle without weapons," Jason muttered.
Amy stood in the doorway, sword planted point-first upon the warehouse floor, periodically peaking out the door. "Someone's coming."
They all fell silent. The tramp, tramping sound of marching feet was evident as it came closer and closer to that.
"A great many someones, it would seem," Jason murmured.
Michael got to his feet. Amy retreated from the door as it opened to reveal Miranda. She was swiftly followed inside by Filia Octavia and by...
Michael bowed. "Your Highness."
"No more, I'm afraid," Princess Romana said. "My brother has stripped me of my title."
"That was a thing ill done, ma'am," Michael said.
"Perhaps, but he was within his rights to do so," Romana said. "It cannot be helped, for now. I am simply grateful for the opportunity to see the First Sword upon his way."
Michael smiled. "I am sure Gideon would be honoured by the attention. On his behalf I thank you."
"I have your weapons," Miranda said, as her creatures Julian and Ascanius hauled in a heavy crate containing Gideon's swords and Michael's own, Michael's manicae from the forest realm and Jason's wands and magical staves. "Put them on, quickly. Then you can give Gideon his funeral." She smiled a little. "I even have an honour guard waiting for you outside."
Michael looked his little sister in the eye. "Bless you, our Miranda."
Miranda pouted. "Just don't get yourself killed after all this trouble."
"How did you manage to arrange an honour guard for fugitives?" Jason asked.
Spirit of the Sword: Faith and Virtue (The First Sword Chronicles Book 2) Page 38