by C. N. Faust
“They will, sire.” Aetius laughed humorlessly. “Rest assured that they will.”
Epilogue
123 B.T.T.
Spring brought little relief from the snow, but it was enough to make a difference. The powdery white flakes crunched underneath Ivan’s boots as he made his way towards the gray sepulchre.
Nicholas had been buried in the Ercole family tomb not far away from his castle. He lie now in a dim monument with his forefathers and their fathers before them, content and at peace. Arodi had been buried beside him. There had been much bickering over the matter, but in the end it had been done. Ivan thought that Nicholas would have wanted it that way, and Charon had backed him up. Arodi was put to rest with his lover. They could truly be together forever.
Arceia’s body was burned, her ashes stored in the tomb in a golden urn. Her maid Elise’s body had been done away with altogether. No one quite knew what happened to it.
But Ezbon had been buried in no family tomb. Ivan didn’t think it would have been fair to Ezbon to have lain him between his father and brother for eternity. No, Ezbon had his own sepulchre made. It was placed in the Clieous family graveyard, where Ivan could go visit him at will.
And it was on such a day as this that Ivan went to visit his dear friend. He knelt before the doors of the monument, clutching in both his gloved hands a scroll of parchment. Weak morning sun made the jewels braided in his hair sparkle. His muscles were stiff from the long ride, and he was quite out of breath from running, but he still smiled.
“Ezbon,” he whispered. “It’s ours.” He extended the parchment in his hands. “Sitharus has declared peace with us. Of course you don’t know why. I haven’t been here to tell you.” He sighed. “They tried to cross the mountains not long after you left us. I prayed they wouldn’t, but I was going to meet them with an army anyway and at least go down putting up a fight. I wasn’t going to let him prey on me when I was weak, Ezbon. We’d worked too hard for all of it.” He mopped his brow with the back of his hand and continued. “I think the gods heard my prayers. You must have been right about them after all. I never really believed that Azrael existed. But if you had asked me that moment whether or not I believed, I would have fallen to my face and worshipped him. The mountains trembled! They showered snow and ice down on the entire army, and every single soldier was buried alive. No one escaped. I heard the king’s old high vizier was with them, too. And he died. That was when Sitharus sent word for peace. It came by dragon, because the pass was still closed up. I wasn’t able to make the journey until it was cleared, but we have it, Ezbon!” he thrust the paper forward. “We have independence! Drakkian Province is now its own separate country. King Sitharus has no hold on us any more. Which means Charon, your cousin Liborio – do you remember him? – and I will rule. It will be as we always dreamt it would be.” He smiled. “I met the king’s new High Vizier, too. You would like him, I think. He had red hair. I don’t remember his name. Amnas, or something like that. He claims he knew your Charon. I told you that boy was no good.”
No one, of course, responded. Ivan hung his head, despair aching in his chest. The victory was hollow. The paper in his hands was meaningless without Nicholas and Ezbon to share it with.
“I won this war,” he whispered. “It cost me everything, and it cost you and Nicholas your lives. But Drakkian Province is free.” He shook his head. “Nicholas’ will was uncovered. He is going to let his son Isabo inherit when he comes of age. Of course, he promised his daughter Isabel to me. This means in a few years I will marry and have future Baron Clieous’ running around here. I suppose my line will find a way to continue after all, eh?” he stood up, brushing the snow off the front of his pants. He touched the top of Ezbon’s tomb stone and bowed his head. “Farewell, my good friend. I will visit you often.” So saying, he turned and started walking back towards his castle.