Chapter 3
Two guards threw open the doors inside the Emperor's Hall with a thunderous boom. Rommus and Pirius ran inside, both out of breath from the long run into the heart of the city. The doors closed behind them and the room was quiet and dim. This was one of the less decorated rooms of the Hall, but still fit for any Nobleman or Ambassador who might be visiting. One wall was decorated with a large fresco of the first war with Vindyrion, some 500 years earlier. Heavy red curtains brightened up the rather plain, white marble walls, which only offered a few black and gray veins for decoration of their own. Rommus looked to see his father sitting in an ornate chair holding a cup loosely in one hand, with a servant on her knees sopping up blood from the wound in his stomach. The Emperor Piro Tecadelion stood silently at the window looking west into the feathery purple and gold remnants of the sunset.
"Father! Are you all right?" Rommus asked.
"Quiet boy, I'm fine," he said as he took a drink.
Tannis Tirinius was not a man that showed emotion, let alone pain. He made no movement as the servant dug deep into his wound to clean it. He was much larger than any normal man and nearly a head taller as well. He had just turned 50 years old, but his hair was still black as pitch, and he had no wrinkles to speak of, being that he was not the kind of man to crease his features with any smile. He was a good man, even a happy man, but his duty to his nation and his Legions kept him as hard as the armor of Arius. Tannis never wore any armor himself--except occasionally a black helmet which was given to him by his father. Instead he tempted his enemies by wearing plain clothing of all black. This made him stand out and appear all the more menacing, as black was not at all popular in Medora where they preferred whites, reds, blues and purples. The Medorans didn't like black because it was the color of the Vindyri armor, which bore a straight-winged silver eagle across the chest. Tannis bore only scars on his chest, reminding him of past battles. He had only one on his face, which was rather small, above his left eye. As he sat there shirtless, Rommus could see all the scars that he'd forgotten.
"Father I was attacked as well, on the road here from the cliffs not two hours ago."
"Have you been hurt?"
"No I'm fine. I took a hit to the head, but nothing serious; although I was nearly stabbed as well. They knew my name. I was asked if I was of the Tirinius bloodline. Did they ask you that too?"
Tannis had a puzzled look on his face. Smiles were rare, puzzled looks could be counted on one hand.
"No, nothing about a bloodline, but I was asked my name. I suppose that's pretty much the same thing."
Pirius cut in. "Two attempts on the only two known people in Medora named Tirinius in one day. Sounds pretty strange to me. Emperor, why don't you come away from the window where an arrow might reach you?"
Piro ignored his son and placed his hands on the marble railing as he stared into the coming dark. Rommus could see that the man was starting to show his age. He walked a little slower, he had lost a lot of his weight, and his hair was now mostly gray, with only hints of its former dark color. Many years ago, he was a strong man with a great history of victories in wars with Vindyrion and Bhoor-Rahn. Because of him, an alliance was formed?albeit an uneasy one?with the Vindyri, and since Vindyrion stood between Medora and Bhoor-Rahn, peace had held on the eastern front for almost 20 years. Emperor Piro Tecadelion was a man loved by his people. He was honest and fair and ensured that the people of Medora remained prosperous and safe.
Rommus took his eyes from the Emperor and turned back to his father. He didn't want to ask how the assassin got away without getting his neck snapped by his father or introduced to a cold sword by a quick and ready guard. He assumed that the person sent to kill his father was much more skilled than the two fools he encountered on the road. He was certain he saw them travel far away from Brinn before he started toward the city, so there was no way that it was one of them who stabbed his father. But what was going on? How did these men know he would be there on the road, and why were they trying to kill his father but only capture him?
His forehead knotted as he tried to think of any enemies he might have. His father probably had countless people who hated him; from soldiers who thought he was too harsh, to anyone who stood before the steel jaws of his Legions. Rommus himself didn't make any effort to offend people, so his list of enemies was short. Nevertheless, there was obviously some connection between the attempts, and at least one reason that someone wanted him and his father dead.
Pirius was occupying himself by arranging some coins on a table into different patterns with one hand, and squeezing his round, dimpled cheeks in mock thought with the other. Women from all over adored his dimples; or at least they claimed to. It was more likely that they adored his family fortune and told themselves it was his babyish looks that charmed them. Whatever the truth was, he had no problem getting the attention of females. He looked up when Rommus came up beside him.
"What do you make of this? Any thoughts?" Rommus said, picking up one of the coins and idly tapping it on the table.
Pirius smiled with one side of his mouth. "I thought you were supposed to be the smart one."
"Come on, I know you have to have some comment on all of this. What do you think is happening?"
"I haven't the slightest idea. If I were an assassin, I would try to kill the Emperor, not the General of an army. Both men are almost impossible to get to, but if you kill the Emperor, the empire might fall, if you kill a General, the empire still stands, but you might just anger the army enough to start a war."
"There might be something to that. Maybe someone does want a war. But what country is crazy enough to tempt us to that? And how does my attack fit in? I don't think the army would want to go to war if I were murdered. Most people don't care if I am alive or dead."
"Now Rommus, enough of that dark talk." Pirius said as he went back to playing with the coins. Pirius avoided most serious talk unless it was serious talk about women.
"I'm serious. My father is an important person. Why would they want me alive and him dead? Some kind of ransom maybe?"
Pirius shrugged. "Maybe, but there are easier people to kidnap I'd think."
Rommus thought for a while and the room remained silent except for the clicking of coins on the table. Finally Piro, still staring to the west, spoke slowly, softly:
"Chapter of change, these pages better left to burn. I have seen it coming for years, and I could not stop it. My nation rots from within like some carcass in the sun. Its bones still red with the memory of life, but soon picked clean by the beasts that hide in our own shadows. Many among us hear in their roars only a lovely melody, their silver words in golden song. They have fed the people their poison telling them it is nothing but sweet wine. Now a new order comes. Now a great enemy raises its head from the waters, and this enemy the Legions cannot touch, for it is made up of all those who support them like the columns that support this great city."
He turned to face them in the room with tears beginning to wet his eyes. "Once their evil takes root, we will hear the screams of all those in this world, all in key with the final song. This enemy struck us today, here, at the heart of the army itself. My General, my friend, they are coming for us all."
The words affected everyone. The servant was weeping as quietly as she could manage while she began to sew Tannis's wound shut. The rest of them just stared at the Emperor for a moment before he turned back to the window.
"No enemy can escape the sword, no matter how ghostly he seems," Tannis said after he took another sip. "Men are responsible for actions taken to move the pieces into play. We must simply find the men and kill them. Rebellion over."
"With all due respect sir, that is a warrior's point of view. Not Everyone in Medora wants blood in the streets, not Medoran blood anyway," Pirius stated as carefully as he could.
"That's the problem. Everyone is so caught up in everything else. By the time you decide to act, your enemy has slit your throat and taken your wome
n and your gold. Nations are not kept free by avoiding war. War is what has won you your freedoms. Peace is born through bloodshed, and then maintained through threat of war if any nation should try to come and end it." He repositioned himself more comfortably in his chair. "That is why Arius is a god of light and not a god of darkness."
"Let's not bring the gods into this," Rommus said. "Like you said, man is responsible for moving the pieces. I have a hard enough time understanding how man has enough power to do the things we do, let alone how seven suspiciously silent and invisible beings can magically influence events."
"You are free to believe what you wish, my son, but I have seen the Columns of Inshae myself."
"And the bridge into the Land of the Gods? Was it there as well?"
Tannis repositioned himself again. He waited a long moment before answering. "No. I saw no bridge. But the columns of the temple that once stood there are too large to have been made by man. They are solid rock, carved right from a mountain that once stood in their place. They make the columns here in Brinn look like children made them. Most of the temple has fallen, some into a giant pile behind the columns, and some into the chasm the bridge once spanned. There is no way to cross there, and there is no way to build a bridge that long. The gods are the only ones who could have done it, and that is where the gods cross into this world to walk among us. When you see it, you cannot deny it."
Rommus was always slightly irritated with people who believed in the gods so blindly. They offer only wispy shadows of evidence, but see it as being solid as a rock. In this case, the evidence really was rocks. Rommus could not imagine any columns of any size convincing him that the gods were over there on the other side, playing their little games with nothing less than humans as pieces on the game board. He knew better than to argue though. He grew tired of stating his opinions on the gods long ago. For that matter, he rarely gave his opinion on anything anymore because he learned that people are unwilling to accept ideas that are not their own. There was no sense in giving people another reason to dislike him. He decided to change the subject.
"The men who attacked me looked to be soldiers, but they wore black cloaks like the Mages do." He realized that changing the subject to Mages wasn't really changing it at all since the Mages were the ones who claimed to speak to the gods and demonstrate their power in this world. He hoped no one would notice.
"Soldiers in black. Sounds like they got the idea from me," Tannis said with a bit of pride. "Were they Medoran?"
"Well they had Medoran swords and boots, but they wore hoods so I couldn't see if they had our dark hair or not. But I didn't recognize them, and they had to ask who I was, so maybe they were imposters from Vindyrion or even beyond."
"How many did you say there were? And is there anything that stood out about them?"
"There were two. One came from the front and one from behind. One had a deep voice and said I wasn't to be harmed." He thought a moment as he stroked his chin and looked up at the colorful war painting on the wall. "Oh, and they were clumsy. They seemed to lack any sort of rigid training or discipline. They acted more like thugs than soldiers."
"And you're sure they were Mages?" his father asked.
"I am not sure of anything. All the soldiers I know avoid Mages at all cost. I can't imagine any of them wanting to actually become one. All I know is that two men attacked me and ran off when they failed in their attempt."
"I see," said Tannis as the servant cut the last of the thread from his stitches and got up to mix herbs to place on the wound. Tannis swirled his drink absently as he thought on the matter. He stared at the floor as if waiting for it to tell him who these people were and what the true meaning was for the day's odd events. Maybe he sat there waiting for one of the gods to come whisper the answers to him. Either way, the floor and the gods were silent in Rommus's ears.
Pirius, who had gone to see what was so special about this window his father stood by, turned to Tannis. "Were these the same men who attacked you General Tirinius?"
"No. This assassin was alone, and wore no cloak," He paused to drink from his cup. "Probably from Vindyrion since she had long blonde hair."
The whole room stood shocked.
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