by Matt Russell
In a soft whisper, Somar said: "Can he?"
"Can you read him?"
"Good! You can use that."
The corporal stared at the two of them, not understanding the nature of the conversation they were having in the least. After a moment, he spoke up: "I am sure the general will speak to you shortly. May I show you to your tent? One of the highest quality has been constructed for you with several beds in it. We anticipated you might come with servants and—"
"My companion is not a servant," Cassian said, the words snapping out almost by reflex. "This is Somar Dojinko. I am sure you have heard the name." Cassian felt some sense of satisfaction as a wave of awe overcame the corporal’s mind.
"My apologies, sir,” the youth stuttered. “We would be honored to construct a tent for the legendary General Dojinko."
"Please do not go to any such trouble on my account," the old man said with a chuckle. "I am an officer no longer—I have not been for many years."
Cassian heard Dimitris's voice whisper in his mind suddenly:
He mused at the relaxed confidence Dimitris was exuding. The telepathic voice was smooth and polished. He did not seem to know that Cassian could sense his fear, or perhaps did but wanted to show how insignificant it was.
He turned to Somar. "I have been invited to sit with our host and my rival. You are free to join." He suppressed a smile, knowing the old man would not be able to resist this first confrontation any more than he could.
"I believe I will," Somar said, and the old man's tired body seemed to take on new life. Their shared love of challenge would surely be what he missed most.
Looking confused, the corporal spoke up: "I would be happy to escort you—"
"We require no escort, young man," Somar said as he strained to lower himself from his stallion. After Cassian had dismounted as well, the old man gestured to their horses and said in an abruptly authoritative voice: "Please bring our luggage to our tent and see to our animals."
"Yes, sir!" the corporal said, his body whipping into a salute.
After the corporal disappeared, Cassian said: "Do you miss being in command?"
"I am very fortunate to have found other pursuits since leaving."
Cassian chuckled softly at this non-answer. "Yes, I think things may be about to grow... exciting."
"Stay alert."
"Always."
The two of them walked together through the camp, Cassian's eyes shifting to the soldiers here and there, studying their weapons and armor. Denigoth had been moving away in the last decade from inducted militia into a professional military. These men—many of them close to Cassian's age—were not farmers and laborers called away for a brief battle but had chosen soldiering as their careers. Memories flowed from them here and there, flashing images of combat training that began around the age of twelve or thirteen and went on for years.
Cassian and Somar eventually came to a tent the size of a large house in the middle of the camp, the entryway of which was made of exquisite draperies of deep red embroidered with gold thread. Ten soldiers stood at attention, with five on each side of the threshold. The one closest to Cassian said: "You are Lord Asango, are you not?"
"I am."
"General Romulus is expecting you." He gestured to the entryway.
Cassian nodded to the soldier and stepped between the two clusters of men, Somar following closely behind. He entered the tent and gazed around at the golden and marble statues that adorned the first room. The floor was made up of ornate rugs. There were tables with solid gold water urns, and even enormous paintings somehow carefully hung from the tent's intricately complex skeleton of wooden poles. They were only in the first room of a dividing path of doorways.
"Romulus enjoys his comforts," Somar said in a cautiously soft voice.
Cassian smiled. He knew from the way the old man lived that Somar had little desire for such opulence. This entryway was meant to convey power and prestige, but to Cassian, it felt…vulgar.
"Lord Asango," a deep voice boomed from a room to the right. "Please do come in."
Cassian walked over the carpeted floor and came into a second room where he saw a large man with a neatly trimmed beard of bronze and silver sitting in a carved wooden chair. Cassian’s eyes lingered on the man only long enough to give him a respectful nod, and then they locked on his one great rival. Rising from his seat at the enormous table in the room's center, Dimitris flashed him a smile and extended a gloved hand.
Dimitris was taller than Cassian, with a stronger and more athletic build. He was remarkably handsome with his manly chin and symmetrical features, his oiled, wavy black hair, and his deep blue eyes. Cassian could not help thinking that his brother looked far more like a great ruler than he did.
"Greetings, Cassian," said Dimitris as they clasped hands. "It is so good to meet you after all these years."
Cassian smiled back. It was good. He had been waiting for this moment for quite a long time.
"This is General Romulus," Dimitris said with a graceful gesture toward the enormous man.
Romulus rose, his rugged face contorting into a smile with which his fierce brown eyes did not wholly align. He held out a thick arm with a golden bracer at the wrist and said: "I have long wanted to meet the boy who faced Promethiock. My men have spoken of you as a legend for years."
Cassian smiled and extended his hand. He still disliked flattery – especially when that flattery was insincere. Romulus did not particularly like him. The general was not quite so talented at blocking telepathy as Somar, nor was he as subtle or charming. He had risen as high as he had in the empire for very different reasons, Cassian suspected.
"This is my tutor, Somar Dojinko," said Cassian to both men.
Dimitris flashed another charming smile and took Somar's hand and said: "It is a great honor to finally meet you, sir."
"The honor is mine in every way," said Somar.
"Please let me shake your hand as well," Romulus said, reaching across the table to Somar. The two men gripped each other’s wrists as two fellow generals.
"Pleased to meet you, Romulus," said Somar. "I have heard much about you."
Romulus held his smile for a moment longer and then made an arching gesture with his hand toward everyone in the room and said: "Shall we be seated?"
Cassian and Somar took up chairs next to Dimitris across from Romulus. Once they were all in their places, the general gazed at Cassian and said: "I am quite pleased that you arrived so quickly. I might enjoy entertaining a pair of Starborn in my camp under other circumstances, but I am afraid there is some degree of urgency to why you two have been summoned."
"Yes, why are we here?" Cassian said.
Romulus answered in a grim voice: "The emperor wishes to test the two of you in battle."
"Test us how?" Dimitris said. His voice was neutral and composed.
Romulus leaned forward in his chair and knitted the thick fingers of his hands together as he said: "A force has been raiding to the north of this position. I am to assign one of you to command this legion to eradicate the threat."
"One of us," Cassian said, turning to Dimitris.
They stared at each other as Romulus said: "Whichever one of you produces the superior battle plan."
"What happens to the loser?" Cassian said.
"He will be under the command of the winner," Romulus answered.
Somar took in a deep, sharp breath through his nose. Cassian knew why. This was not a simple test of leadership
. He and Dimitris were being maneuvered into direct conflict with one another. Before eleven thousand witnesses, one of them was about to be forced to accept the superiority of the other. In Denigoth's current military-minded societal state, this contest would confer enormous weight upon the balance scale between them over who was the superior contender for the throne.
With raw telepathic force, Cassian ripped abruptly through Dimitris's psychic defenses, causing his rival to widen his eyes and draw back in shock. He was able to catch just enough from his brother’s mind before the mental walls redoubled to sense that this was not some clandestine plan Dimitris had known about, which could only mean the Emperor himself was behind the matter.
"You have two days to formulate sound, tactical plans," Romulus said, interrupting the silent psychic battle the two of them were waging. “You will both submit your proposals to me morning after next. I will then decide the winner by midday."
"Understood," Cassian said in a calm voice, but he did not understand at all. Why were the two of them being pitted against each other so early and so directly? He had assumed their competition would last years – even decades – and without any manipulation from the Emperor. They were both only twenty, and in the span of two days, one of them would receive a proclamation of inferiority to the other from the most decorated military officer in the empire.
"Good that you understand," Romulus said with a fair degree of smugness in his tone. "I would enjoy sharing mid-day meal with two Starborn, but if you wish time to formulate your plans, I understand entirely."
Again, Cassian gazed at Dimitris. The situation was not ideal, and yet they both faced the same circumstances. In the end, it had always been a contest between the two of them, and, whatever form that contest took, Cassian knew he had to rise to it.
"I believe I will begin now," he said, rising from his chair.
"I as well," said Dimitris, rising in turn.
"That is probably best for both of you," said Romulus. He turned to Somar and said: "You must not interact with your pupil during this trial."
"Is that right?" said Somar in a dry voice.
"You are a legendary tactician, sir, as many know. Your input would constitute an unfair advantage in a competition between two contenders for the throne." His bushy red eyebrows knitted together, and he said: "Such interference in a matter of state would constitute treason by my reasoning and would call for your execution."
Cassian's felt his blood turn to acid in his veins. Romulus was enjoying threatening his former fellow general. The bastard was drunk with power! Romulus started to add something, but Somar abruptly spoke up, saying: "I understand completely, General Romulus. Actually, I would very much enjoy taking lunch with you while the two Starborn go about their imperial business."
"Excellent," said Romulus with a satisfied grin that made every muscle in Cassian's body coil. Still, he knew better than to openly challenge a general of the Imperium over such a matter. The perfectly relaxed smile on Somar's face helped to calm him.
The general turned to Dimitris and said: "I have learned that you employ Sardonis Alexi as your military tutor. I require him to step away from this as well. Would you be so kind as to send him to me?"
"Of course," said Dimitris.
"Good, I dismiss you both," said Romulus, still sounding pompous.
Cassian and Dimitris left the tent together, walking side by side. When they had passed a few dozen steps beyond the ears of the guards, Dimitris said in a low tone: "You see what all of this is, I am sure."
"Of course, but I do not know why. The emperor cannot possibly be sick. He will not need an heir for many years to come."
"Perhaps the Senate is putting pressure on him to name a crown prince."
Cassian sighed. "Do you think anyone in this world could exert pressure on Tacitus?"
Dimitris chuckled softly. "No, I suppose not. We do not then get to know why we are pushed to each other's throats.” His voice took on a dark edge laced with mirth as he added: “But we are at each other's throats."
"Yes," said Cassian.
Dimitris hesitated, then said: "We might step off this path before one of us dies.” The implied threat barely disguised yet given with remarkably little hostility. They both stopped walking and turned to face each other. As the soldiers went about their business around the two of them, Dimitris said: "I know what you want, Cassian."
"Do you?" Cassian said. "I suspect your next words will closely resemble the dozen or so offers Telemachus has made on your behalf in the last few years.
Dimitris flashed him a brilliant smile. "Can you imagine what you and I could accomplish together?"
"With you as emperor? Yes. Not a great deal. Certainly nowhere near enough."
"I am willing to limit the powers of the Nemesai, Cassian—limit them to such a degree that nothing like what happened to your parents will ever happen again."
Cassian let a dark chuckle escape his throat. "Really? Is that what you told Bishop Cromlic when you accepted all the special tutors he provided you, or when he himself instructed you in all those terrible forbidden spells his order has kept secret from the world?" Dimitris started to respond, but Cassian interrupted him: "I would wager Cromlic has spent several million desseks preparing you to kill me, brother. Where do you suppose all that money came from? His men tore it away from poor families whom they deemed guilty of sin. You knew that, and you accepted all of his gifts, so do not stand there and smile at me and pretend you and I share the same ideals."
The muscles around Dimitris's eyes contracted and he closed his lips and said telepathically:
Cassian bristled.
Cassian stared at his brother for a long time. In his heart he had always longed for this friendship. He had never sought it though, and there was good reason.
Cassian interrupted his brother: