"Enough of this, we have weightier matters to attend to," Gideon said, picking up his tunic off the ground and putting it on. "Michael, dress yourself and kneel before me."
Michael wondered why, but did not question as he pulled his black tunic over his head and onto his still sweaty body - Gideon, of course, had not so much as breathed heavily over the course of their entire training session - and got on one knee in front of Gideon.
"I must ask Duty back from you a little while, Michael," Gideon said. "It is far more appropriate for this business than Piety is."
Michael drew Duty out of its scabbard, and presented it to its rightful master. "It is yours at any time, Lord Gideon."
Gideon did not reply as he plucked Duty out of Michael's open palms and held it up so the blade caught the light of Deucalia's over-boisterous sun.
"I mean to swear you in as an Imperial soldier now, Michael," Gideon said. "It will be necessary ere long and the time seems right to me. I trust you have no objection."
"If it is what you wish, Gideon, then I am ever at your service."
"It is irrelevant if it is what I wish or no," Gideon said, a trifle sharply. "What do you want?"
"I want to serve you, Gideon, now and always. Will this help me more ably do so?"
"It will, and more than that," Gideon said. "Much more."
"Then do I undertake it gladly, with an eager heart," Michael said, thinking that when this was over it might be easier to remain at Gideon's side if he were a soldier enlisted, however informally. "And if I break this oath, and fail your trust, may gods and men alike condemn me to the utmost."
Gideon's mouth twitched with a brief smile. "Good boy. Now, repeat after me: I, Michael Callistus Dolabella."
"I, Michael Sebastian Callistus Dolabella ban Ezekiel," Michael said, using all his names for this was a solemn business, and thus deserving of solemnity.
"Do swear by my gods and the divinity of the Eternal Empress."
"Do swear by Almighty Turo, Lord of the Seas and Oceans, and the divinity of the Eternal Empress," Michael said.
"That I will bear faithful and unwavering allegiance to Her Imperial Majesty Aegea the Divine Empress, to the Prince Imperial Demodocus II, Her steward on this mortal plane, and to his heirs and successors," Gideon said.
"That I will bear faithful and unwavering allegiance to Her Imperial Majesty, Aegea, the Divine Empress, to the Prince Imperial Demodocus II, Her steward on this mortal plane, and to his heirs and successors," Michael said.
"That I will, as in duty bound, honestly, faithfully and selflessly defend Her Imperial Majesty, His Imperial Highness and his heirs and successors in Person, Honour and Dignity against all enemies wherever," Gideon paused for a moment, swallowing. "Or whomsoever they may be."
"That I will, as in duty bound, faithfully and selflessly defend Her Imperial Majesty, His Imperial Highness and his heirs and successors in Person, Honour and Dignity." Michael wondered if this was what it had felt like to be a Firstborn in those ancient days, to pledge one's life to the service of Corona. And how had Gideon felt, when first he knelt to take this selfsame oath? Had he felt the weight of it, the force behind the words pressing down upon him? Not likely, Lord Gideon was a man to whom this oath would be uplifting. And Michael, though he felt the fear of failing these proud words even as he spoke them, found he could understand why. Here, in these words nobly declared, were the whole pattern of a life laid out. A life spent in honourable service to a noble cause, serving the monarch and the state with blood and sweat and mayhap life itself. A life that would mean more than the sum of its mean accomplishments, be more than the vulgar tally of days lived and moneys earned. A life measured in the survival of nations, and the outcome of great battles, as greater than himself as he was greater than an ant. A life such as even one sprung from the ancient tales might be contented with. Michael found he had a lump in his throat as he finished repeating, "Against all enemies, wherever or whomsoever they may be."
"And shall observe and obey all orders of Her Majesty, His Imperial Highness, his heirs and successors, and of their appointed officers set over me until the throne release me or death take me. Upon my honour, life and soul all this I swear."
"And shall observe and obey all orders of Her Majesty, His Imperial Highness, their heirs and successors, and of their appointed officers set over me until the throne release me or death take me," Michael hesitated a brief moment, praying inwardly to Turo for the strength to carry out this weighty vow. "Upon my honour, life and soul all this I swear."
"Now kiss the blade," Gideon said, offering Duty to him, point first.
Michael pressed his lips against the cool metal, which seemed to crackle at the touch of them. Michael felt as though the sword itself had someone been witness to the contract, and let him know that it would see him keep his vow.
"Rise now, Michael Callistus, soldier of the Empire," Gideon said, handing Duty back to Michael before pulling him to his feet.
"Thank you, sir."
"You're still to call me Gideon, Michael, I insist upon it; no getting out of it that easily," Gideon said.
"That does not seem to be the entirely current version of the oath, if I recall correctly from the times I saw it administered in Eternal Pantheia," Jason said.
"No, if Michael was in the legions he would kiss the flag - which we obviously do not have - before swearing another oath to the legion itself. And the current oath omits all business of Divine Aegea, and has our soldiers swear allegiance to the Emperor. Foolishness, denying her divinity does not stop Aegea from being divine, nor does she cease being the only true Empress because a prince's vanity would have it otherwise."
Tullia offered Michael her hand and when he took it she pulled him into an embrace. "Congratulations, soldier."
"Thank you," Michael said. "Did you have to swear an oath like that?"
"Twice, the new oath that Gideon mentioned," Tullia said. "Once when I first joined the Corps, and again when I was sixteen. I, too, kissed a sword. Did you feel a... a kind of spark as you did so?"
"Yes," Michael said.
"So did I," Tullia said. "I do not know about Aegea, or any gods, but I do believe someone heard me say those words, as they heard you."
"How did you feel?" Michael asked.
Tullia tilted her head to one side as she considered. "Like I had just locked all other doors behind me, and dropped the keys into the gutter. From then on there was no turning back, only to continue forward on this course."
"Did you ever regret it?"
"No," Tullia said at once. "To do so would be to regret too many things that do not bear regretting." She smiled at him. "Don't worry, I do not think you will regret it either, though you live to be a hundred years old in the Empire's service for you, too, may stand alongside those you love in the brotherhood of duty." Tullia glanced towards Gideon.
"I would not be parted from him for anything," Michael said.
"And now you never shall lest Death himself sunders you, as I shall never stray from His Highness side," Tullia said.
Wyrrin tilted his head to one side. "You are...content with this?"
Michael nodded. "Wherefore should I not be so?"
"Is not a chain a chain, however it is forged?" Wyrrin replied.
Michael shrugged. "I know not, save that I have never minded chains particularly. Do you not believe there is great honour to be found in service to a higher power, a higher cause?"
"I seek glory, not honour," Wyrrin said. "And I would not trade my freedom for either."
"Obviously you have not been free for very long if it sees so gilded and precious to you," Tullia murmured.
"I think, Filia, that it is simply that Wyrrin has not found his cause yet," Michael said. "Filius, once you discover something about which you are so passionate that you willingly subsume yourself in service to it - and I believe that all men find such a thing, if they live long enough - then you will think differently."
"Perhaps," Wyrrin sa
id, sounding sceptical.
Jason looked at him curiously. "You know, for a fire drake you're quite astonishingly human."
"That does not surprise me," Wyrrin said. "Why else am I now living among humans?"
"Michael," Gideon said, interrupting the discussion. "Now that you officially sworn in as a servant of the Empire you may now take over leadership of the company."
"I... what?" Michael said, his genteel verbosity momentarily failing him in the face of Gideon's sudden declaration. "But my... but Gideon I am but a slave lately risen out of bondage."
"You're a soldier now," Gideon said.
Michael frowned. "If you are weary of the burdens of command, Gideon, then the lot ought fall on better men than I. Prince Jason is nobly born, and born to rule besides, and part of rule is the command of armies; appoint him captain if you must, for it is in his blood to lead in war. Our Amy is a knight sprung from a fearsome race, trained in the arts of war as I never was; appoint her captain if you must, for she has more experience than I, though not one third of yours."
"It is not Jason or Ameliora's leadership abilities that concern me, but yours," Gideon said. "I do this not because I am weary of the burdens of command, or wish to hand them over, but because I consider it necessary; or at least, better experimented now than at a more critical juncture. In short, Michael, I wish you lead the unit because I want to see how you do."
"But why?"
Gideon smiled enigmatically. "That you will discover in due course."
"Why can't we all discover now?" Amy growled. "Michael's right, if any of us is going to get this job it ought to me: I squired for Ser Viola, the Knight of Kraken's Lair, and was trained in the art of command by her and attended her councils. No offence, Michael, but you're just a gladiator and I know more about commanding than you possibly could."
"Is it that you have doubts about his ability or are you merely jealous that he was chosen instead of you?" Tullia asked. "I have not known Michael since childhood, but I am willing to serve under his command. Michael, my knives and magic and all my skills are yours."
"And my blades also," Wyrrin said. "Congratulations, Michael."
"You can do no worse than the Butcher of Oretar, I'm sure," Jason murmured.
"I was not actually asking anyone's permission, but your eager acquiescence is gratifying nonetheless," Gideon said. "Michael, we await your orders."
"Ahem," Michael felt his face burning with embarrassment, and his body sweating for reasons that had nothing to do with the heat of the day. He was acutely conscious of Amy's accusing gaze, and the fact that only Tullia and Wyrrin had backed him wholeheartedly... well to be honest it rankled just a bit. He knew that he was far from ready for this position, but it would have been more generous of his friends to have supported him at a juncture where he was surely in need of support.
"Line up, please, I would like to address you all before anything else happens," Michael said, and waited until they were all stood in a line before he began. "I did not seek this appointment. I did not expect it. I know that I am not what the mind would conjure when an ideal leader is pictured. But that is no matter. I do not need to be the ideal leader, or the ideal soldier or the ideal man. I need not be a paragon of anything because I have all of you, bearing me up with your support and redressing the balance of my flaws with your own virtues, even as I redress your own. When we defeat Quirian it will not be because I led you to it but because we fought together, united, the whole rendered more than the sum of its parts by our joint effort. That is how we have triumphed so far, and that is how we will continue to carry all before us.
"I did not ask to be made leader, but I do ask for your support, all of it. I ask that you continue to aid me with the same love and affection you have given me up till now. If any of you see me growing over proud, tell me and humility will reign once more. If you see me blunder, tell me how I may make good the error. If you are troubled, let me share your troubles that together we may make light of them.
"I know that if you are with me, there is nothing that we may not accomplish. But I also know that without you, there is nothing I can do.
"Gideon has named me leader and so, as leader, I humbly ask you all to follow."
Michael did not wait for a response, but turned to one side and said, "Let me see the map please, that I may know our course towards our aim and goal."
Gideon drew the map from his pack and presented it to Michael. He had to run his fingers over the words and speak them aloud to read them - his mother had done her best to teach her children their letters, even paying a shilling a week for her children to spend two mornings a week at a hedge school eight miles away in Villa Sapphira when she had the money, but Michael had never applied himself as hard as he ought to have, seeing little point - but he was able get the hang of it eventually. They were a little way east of Davidheyr on the Via Flavia, the main road along the coast, while they needed to reach the ruins of Aureliana, located in the north of a vast forest dominating northern Deucalia by the name of Eena.
"If we continue on the road until we reach this village here, Autolycus' Crossroads by name, then we should be able to cut through the forest from the south until we reach Aureliana," Michael said.
"I'm afraid not," Gideon said. "We will have to skirt the edges of the forest and approach from the north."
"But the journey is much longer that way," Michael said, frowning.
"I agree, and the delay is costly, but it is death to enter the forest of Eena, so I want to wait as long as possible before entering, and enter by the shortest possible route. That way I hope our presence may go unnoticed."
"Unnoticed by whom?" Jason said. "Or should that be unnoticed by what?"
Michael said, "Gideon, I do not know the lore of this land as I do my own, so you must tell me: what is it we should fear inside those woods? Is it a beast, that we may slay it and pass upon our way? Or is it some dark curse or evil spirit that will seek to corrupt us? Whatever the case I am confident that we are a match for it. I spoke before with perfect conviction: whatever should befall us, together we have the strength to overcome it, and even battle with a beast of darkness would delay us less than this circuitous passage."
"Not if it kills us," Jason said. "A short delay will be less costly than missing limbs. I am for caution."
"I agree with His Highness, better not to blunder into a situation we do not understand and cannot prepare for," Tullia said.
"No, Michael is right," Wyrrin said. "What lurks inside these forests, that we should prove cowards before it, and shame ourselves? If we cannot face whatever it is hiding behind the shelter of the trees, then how will we ever possess the strength or fortitude to face Quirian? I say we strike through the forest and test our mettle against whatever we find there. We defeated the Crimson Rose, we will defeat any other obstacles that lie before us."
"Amy?" Michael asked, but Amy said nothing; she did not even meet his eyes.
Michael sighed. "Very well then. As you suggest Gideon, we shall circle on the outskirts of the forest and not enter till the last possible moment. Now, let us march!"
So he spoke but, though it was time for him to lead his troops - his troops, the absurdity of it - his feet were turned to lumps of lead and he was rooted to the spot, his legs failing him.
For how can I command this company of heroes, when I am not captain of mine own heart? It ignores all my biddings to be calm and remains awash with fluttering nervousness. That was a quote from The Tale of the White, and it rose unbidden to the forefront of Michael's mind. He would never claim to be an Aurelia, and he had the advantage that his Gabriel yet lived, but that did not quell his feelings of unease. It was all very well for Gideon to say, as blithely as to announce the floor was wet, that Michael was to lead the company for now. But it was Michael's shoulders that must now shoulder that burden which Gideon so idly cast aside, and upon Michael's head would fall the guilt of any error or misstep. If anyone were to be hurt by his mishandling, or
God forbid if anyone should fall...Michael imagined Amy lying dead by his poor leadership and near fainted dead away from the horror of it.
A hand was placed firmly on Michael's shoulder, a hand that Michael saw belonged - as he turned to look - to Tullia, who affixed him with the calm gaze of her blue eyes.
"Michael Callistus," she said, her voice steady and serene. "What are you?"
Michael pushed back his shoulders. "I am a servant. Of God, of my lord Gideon, and of my sister."
"As I am a servant of the Prince and the Emperor," Tullia said. "Michael, do you know what oath the Emperor takes, upon ascending to the throne of his fathers?"
Michael shook his head.
"An oath of service," Tullia said. "To be a servant to the nation, till death release him. Some serve by following, others serve by leading, but service it remains. Lead or obey, all is duty." She cupped his cheek in one hand, and smiled encouragingly. "You are a good servant, an outstanding servant, this is not beyond you."
"But if-"
"Would it hurt you any less if harm came to us under the command of another?"
Michael imagined Tullia dead under his orders, and Tullia fallen under the command of Gideon. It cut him to the quick either way.
"You truly do not object to serving under my command?"
"I have faith in you," Tullia said, with complete certainty.
Michael stepped away from her, and essayed a half bow from the waist, "Then, m'lady, I shall not fail."
Michael turned back to the open road, and gestured forwards. "Forth now, brave hearts, with all convenient haste; for Miranda and for the Empire."
And this time his feet obeyed him, and he started forth upon the next stage of this grand tale which they were weaving. And the company followed after him.
The morning's delay, while Michael trained with Gideon, had allowed the mass of refugees fleeing out of Corona to get a head start upon them and so the Deucalia road was deserted as they moved down it. So, while the land was far more alive than it had been in war-ravaged Corona - fields all around teemed with slave gangs toiling beneath the sun, and figures on horseback rode up and down in the distance - they were still not so hemmed about with fellow travellers as to be disturbed. Of course, that also meant that there was no guarantee the enemy might not try an ambush, so Michael kept a weather eye open for signs of trouble.
Spirit of the Sword: Pride and Fury (The First Sword Chronicles Book 1) Page 36
