"But not you?"
"I stand for the Empire," Romana said. "Someone must."
"Do you not seek to become Empress, or Princess Imperial?"
"It is my destiny, but I do not covet it," Romana replied. "It will come whether I wish it or not."
"Which is not the same as saying that you do not wish it," Miranda observed.
"The Empire must have leadership," Romana said. "It must have purpose. Aegea called this nation into being with one goal: to unite all the world within our sphere and spread our justice to all four corners of our universal dominion. We abandoned that purpose, but never found any new goal or aim with which to replace it. The Empire is stagnant, and dying from a lack of any cause to sustain its soul. We have a military colossus we do not use yet cannot rid ourselves of, a vast expanse of territory held together only by custom and apathy, a society turning to ambition because it is only through politics and scheming that glory may now be won. We must set our sights on glory once again if we are to save the Empire from itself.
"I beg you, Filia Miranda, do not continue your work for Lord Quirian and my brother. Your golems will only hasten the Empire's fall."
Miranda looked into the Princess' eyes, they were desperate, imploring. Miranda turned away. "If the Empire cannot keep itself alive without a war to fight, then perhaps it deserves to fall."
"As you deserved to die at the hands of an assassin who could have killed you?" Romana asked.
Miranda stopped. She glanced back at the princess. "You know who tried to kill me, don't you? Tell me."
"What would you do if you knew?" Romana asked.
"I don't know," Miranda replied. "Probably nothing. But I want to know."
Romana pursed her lips for a moment. "Helen Manzikes."
"What? But why?" Miranda demanded. "Why should she do such a thing?"
"She acted to protect her family as she thought best," Romana said. "What would you do, if it were your family in danger?"
"My brother is in danger, but I haven't killed anybody to save him," Miranda said derisively.
"Do you think that disappoints him?" Romana asked.
Miranda slapped her, her hand colliding with the princess' face with a thwacking sound, so hard that Romana recoiled away from her.
"Seize her!" Captain Thrakes yelled.
Romana raised one hand. "Hold fast! I deserved that."
"Yes, you did," Miranda snarled. "Do not presume that you know me or my family. Or that I will meekly comply with your requests for the sake of your Empire or your destiny. I thank your highness, but I believe I can find my own way out."
She returned to her litter and got back into it without a word to Ascanius or Julian, and spent the journey back to Quirian's house fuming at the princess' final remarks. When the litter finally brought her back, she climbed out of it wearily, foreseeing more work ahead of her. She was met, however, by Aelia, who seemed rather pleased about something.
"You can have the rest of the day off, Miranda," Aelia said, a smile playing across her lips. "Go back to your room, rest. I think you might enjoy it." She was still smiling as she walked away, leaving Miranda to wonder what had gotten into her. Still, she would not look a gift horse in the mouth, and so she climbed the steps leading up into her tower room.
She found Octavia waiting there for her.
Miranda was very still and silent for a moment. Then she murmured breathlessly, "Octavia!" And then she was in the arms of her aestival protector.
"You're back," Miranda whispered. "You came back, I was so worried."
"I heard what happened," Octavia replied. "I won't ever leave you alone again, I promise."
Miranda stepped back, tears forming in her brown eyes. "You're here now, that's all that matters. That, and that you're safe."
"I promised I'd come back, didn't I?" Octavia asked, smiling.
"Yes, yes you did," Miranda said as a grin spread across her face. She sat down on bed, feeling her heart beat faster just by having her best friend by her side once more. "What, um, what did Michael say? Will he give up this pointless quest?"
"No," Octavia said. "Not until you meet him yourself, without escort, and Lord Father won't ever allow that, never."
"And yet it is not an unreasonable position for him to take, is it?" Abigail said. "He merely wishes to make sure that you are not being coerced."
"But she isn't being coerced," Octavia said.
"Not at the moment."
"Don't start accusing Michael of behaving sensibly, might as well accuse the sun of being cold," Miranda said. "My brother will die before he even understands what sense is. Did he say anything else?"
"He told me to give you his love, and asked me to swear an oath to keep you safe."
Miranda rolled her eyes. "Just once it would be nice for him to think me capable of taking care of myself. Idiot."
She looked out of balcony doors; the same sun that shone down upon Eternal Pantheia was shining upon Michael though he be thousands of miles away. Turo teach my brother wisdom, if it is not too late for that.
"How did he look?" she asked. "Was he well? How did he seem?"
"He looked healthy," Octavia said. "He seemed, I don't know, certain? I don't think he believed me one bit."
"He was always convinced of the rightness of his actions," Miranda said. "Thank you... for trying."
"I just wanted to try and make you happy," Octavia said.
"I'm afraid you didn't quite manage it, but not for lack of effort," Miranda said. "Though, I still don't understand. Your wings... why didn't you tell me?"
Octavia's face assumed a downcast look. "I was afraid that if you knew, you might hate me, or be afraid of me, or -"
"What? Why would you think that?" Miranda said. "Don't you know how amazing it is that you can fly? I'd give my right leg to be able to do that!"
"Really, you mean it?"
"Of course!"
Octavia's smile widened, tears began to descend from her golden eyes. She whispered, "I love you."
Miranda smiled.
Octavia began to laugh. "If you think it's great to fly, then hold on tight!" She picked Miranda up and, as Miranda squawked in alarm, leapt with Miranda in arm off the balcony and into the air, her beautiful wings catching the currents and bearing them up into the sky. Up and up they flew, until the city looked like a toy beneath them, with all the world spread out below. Then Octavia swooped downwards through the cloud, and Miranda whooped with joy as they sped towards the ground, the air beating against her face in waves like the ocean, and then flew back up again just before Octavia's toes brushed against the grass in the fields beyond the city. They circled the Imperial palace, then soared up to see it from above. They flew so high that it seemed that the entire world was spread out beneath them, all the way to Mavenor in the north and Triazica in the south, it was all so small as though they were the only people left in the world, and all the rest to child's playthings for their amusement.
"It's amazing," Miranda whispered.
"Yes, it is," Octavia said. "But it's always made me feel a little sad before."
"Why?"
"It's a little lonely to be up here all alone, when everyone else has gone," Octavia replied. "But it isn't so bad now that you're here."
Miranda chuckled. She said, "I think I'd like to go home now."
"Where's home?" Octavia asked plaintively
"Lord Quirian's house for now, isn't it?"
"I suppose it'll do, as long as you're there," Octavia replied. "Okay, let's go home."
And so she bore Miranda back down onto the tower balcony, carried her inside, and set her down upon the bed.
"That was wonderful," Miranda said. "Thank you. Without you I-"
"What did I say," Octavia said, "You won't ever be without me."
"Yes, you did," Miranda tugged on Octavia's hand. "Sit down."
Octavia sat.
"You never had to hide what you were from me," Miranda said. "You never have to hide yourself fro
m me."
Octavia wiped at her eyes. "Miranda, I can't - " She looked away, wiping furiously. "You don't know -"
"Have I upset you?" Miranda asked, snaking one arm over Octavia's shoulder.
"No. No it isn't you, it's everyone else."
Miranda's grip tightened. "What do you mean?"
Octavia sighed. "My father was a soldier in the Imperial Air Corps. He was the aestival, from Hawk's Roost. He, he didn't ask my mother nicely."
"Oh, God," Miranda whispered. "I'm so sorry."
"Mother couldn't forget that when she looked at me. No one else let me forget it either. They... I was so happy when Lord Father came and took me away, so happy that I'd finally found a home; but I wasn't a good warrior, I wasn't a good mage, I was clumsy and stupid, and soon Lord Father got bored with me as well, and my brothers and sisters they... You're the first person who has ever... Miranda, I can't lose you."
"You won't," Miranda said firmly. "You won't, no matter what Quirian or Catulla or anybody else does. You're the best, the bravest person that I know." She leaned in close, "I love you." She kissed Octavia upon the back, her lips working upwards as they climbed between Octavia's wings towards her neck.
Octavia went stiff and still.
"I'm sorry," Miranda murmured as she leaned. "I... I thought... I shouldn't have-"
"Don't stop," Octavia's voice was small, soft, but quite determined.
Miranda leaned back in, climbed up Octavia's back and onto her neck, twisted around her neck as Octavia sighed in ecstasy, and gradually worked her way up to Octavia's face. And then their lips met.
Miranda's eyes opened. The sky had darkened while she had slept, she could see the stars glimmering through the crack in the drapes. Beside her, Octavia snored, sleeping with her beautiful wings curled around her body like a cocoon.
Miranda smiled at her for a moment, then lay back with her head upon her pillow. She was very fortunate, in more ways than one. And yet she could not get the thought of Helen Manzikes out of her head. She had tried to kill Miranda for no reason at all, and having failed she might try again. And what could Miranda do about it? She would have to do something, for she could not abide to do nothing. She would not wait for another attempt on her life to put Octavia in danger.
Their next attempt. Would that be the second or the third time that someone had tried to take her life? Lysimachus had obviously not been hired by Helen Manzikes, but had he been trying to kill her, or Lord Quirian? She could think of no reason why either of them should have been included in his killing spree.
Killing spree...
Miranda sat up, reaching for her stick. "Abigail," she hissed. "Abigail, wake up!"
"I am already awake, my dear, what's the matter?" Abigail asked. "Would you like something to drink?"
"No, I want to see Ascanius and Julian up here at once, and bring some papyrus and a quill."
Octavia yawned as Abigail made her way down the steps. "Miranda? What's going on?"
"Something disturbing," Miranda replied softly. "For your own good, you might want to go back to sleep."
"No," Octavia said. "Whatever it is, I want to help you."
Miranda reached out and took her hand. Feeling the warmth of it steadied the nerves that were freezing up her stomach. "I'm glad to hear it."
It didn't take too long for Ascanius and Julian to arrive, although Ascanius looked far more upset at the summons than Julian did.
"Was there a reason you had the old bag haul us out of bed or were you just showing that you could?" Ascanius said.
"Speak for yourself, I wasn't in bed," Julian muttered. "Why am I on guard so much more often than you?"
"Because privileges of rank, that's why," Ascanius replied. "What's all this about, love?"
"Don't call me love, I don't appreciate it," Miranda said sharply. "And I need you to tell me the names of all Lysimachus' targets from Lord Manzikes until his death."
"Why?" Julian asked.
"I'll tell you when I have the names."
"Targets, or people he killed?" Ascanius said.
"Just the people we can be reasonably sure he meant to kill," Miranda said. "Not the people who just got in the way. So none of the Lost, none of the Princess' guards, none of Lord Manzikes' soldiers."
Ascanius nodded, sitting down on the carpet with his back to the wall. "Alright l-, Filia. Start with Lord Manzikes, as you know."
Miranda nodded, crawling out of bed and resting her papyrus scroll upon the floor. Dipping the quill into ink, she wrote down the name of Lord Manzikes.
"Legate Caerellius Annius, of the First Legion," Julian said.
"Lord Gratian Philippicus," Ascanius added.
"Captain Julius Virilis, of the Ninth Legion."
"Prefect Valentinius Maximus, of the Twelfth Light Cohort."
"Major Philip Proteus, Twenty Third Ala."
And so they went on, listing officers and mages and patricians whose names Miranda dutifully recorded, until they arrived at Caius Arpius of the Mage Corps and Captain Turnus Mallius of the Seventh Legion, who had been the last men Lysimachus had struck before he had attacked Quirian's soiree.
"And that leaves you," Ascanius said. "Or else Lord Quirian. Or both of you. We can't be sure who he was going after and Lysimachus isn't in much position to tell us."
Miranda wrote down her own name and that of Quirian for completeness sake. "Now, what strikes you as odd about this list."
"Your name," Ascanius said after a moment.
"And Lord Quirian's, for that matter," Julian added.
"Exactly," Miranda said, nodding. She crossed off those two names. "Now what kind of list do we have?"
"Soldiers," Octavia said.
"Not just any soldiers, love," Ascanius said. "Oretine veterans. Every single one of those names was in Oretar with us, with Lysimachus."
"And that would make sense, because you told me that Lysimachus was obsessed with Oretar, with the war," Miranda said. "But that doesn't make any sense if you add myself or Lord Quirian to the list. Why would Lysimachus want to kill either of us?"
"He was mad," Julian said.
"No, I don't think he was," Miranda said. "I think...I think..."
"What?" Octavia asked. "What does it mean?"
"It means," Abigail spoke firmly and deliberately. "That Lord Quirian and Lysimachus conspired to establish his little rampage, then for him to die in Quirian's courtyard at the hands of the golems."
Ascanius was silent for a moment. "Damn and damnation."
"Strength of Beltor and Silwa," Julian said. "You can't be serious."
"I don't understand," Octavia murmured. "Why would Lord Father do something like that?"
"I don't believe that any of the other deaths mattered to Quirian," Miranda said. "Lord Manzikes, yes, the very first, but after that he just told Lysimachus to go out and kill people and he, of course, took the opportunity to settle scores with people he had grudges against for the Oretine War. All that mattered to Quirian was that all the great and good of the Empire would see my golems kill a man against whom all the legions had done nothing. Now people are talking seriously about replacing the soldiers of the Impeiral Army with golems. The entire purpose of Lysimachus' rampage, the reason he died...was to advance that goal."
"Assuming that Lysimachus was willing to die for something like that," Julian said.
"Don't be an idiot, Julian, of course Lysimachus was willing to die," Ascanius spat. "He was always talking about how we needed to atone for what we'd done. Giving his life to bring down the whole army...I think the sergeant-major would enjoy that, in as much as the sour old bastard enjoyed anything."
"I don't believe it," Octavia said. "I don't think Lord Father would... why would he do something like that? Miranda almost died!"
"Lord Quirian strikes me as a man very confident he can reach the outcome he desires, without letting such things as chance get in his way," Miranda said, which made Abigail laugh for some strange reason. "He must have judged
the risk worth taking. After all, if golems do replace soldiers as the bulwark of the Empire's defence, it puts Prince Antiochus in a much stronger position towards the throne."
"Tsk, and you were doing so well," Abigail said.
Miranda glared at her. "And what is that supposed to mean?"
Abigail smiled thinly. "I'm not altogether surprised that the patricians of this city fail to realise what is really going on, but I am surprised that you, who boast so of your freedom from deference and snobbery, should honestly believe that a man like Quirian is nothing more than the lickspittle to a fool like Prince Antiochus."
Miranda blinked. It was true that Prince Antiochus did not give the impression of being as intelligent as Lord Quirian, but she would not have called him a fool either. And he was a prince of the blood Imperial, while Lord Quirian was a nobody whose claim even to the title of lord was dubious, if Princess Romana was to be believed. What could he hope for, without a princes' patronage?
"I don't deny that Lord Quirian is cleverer by a degree than Prince Antiochus," Miranda said. "But he could accomplish as little on his own as I could without Lord Quirian; in this city, character is less important than birth in this city."
"How quickly they have taught you to believe that," Abigail murmured.
Miranda shook her head, dismissing the woman's riddles from her mind. "Anyway, the point is what do we do about this?"
"We don't mention it to anyone else, for a start," Ascanius said. "We keep quiet, we keep our heads down, and we wait to see where it leads. We don't speak of this outside of this room, and we don't speak of it to anyone but the five of us, got it?"
Miranda nodded. "I understand."
"I'll keep my mouth shut," Julian said.
"You may count on my discretion," Abigail added.
Octavia hesitated.
Miranda frowned. "I'm sorry, Octavia. I shouldn't have let you hear this. It wasn't right of me to-"
"I promise," Octavia whispered. "I love you, Miranda. I won't ever betray you, not even to my Lord Father. I'll keep your secret and I'll keep you safe, whatever happens."
Whatever happens, Miranda thought. That phrase worried her far more now than it had done before this insidious path of thought had opened up to her. For what might happen now? What might Lord Quirian and the prince be planning, in the end? And, if he had killed Lysimachus as a stepping stone to his goals, how many more lives might Quirian snuff out before he had all that he desired?
Spirit of the Sword: Pride and Fury (The First Sword Chronicles Book 1) Page 47
