by T. C. Edge
Dom shakes his head. "I think he remains among the cadets," he says. "I've heard he's growing into a fine soldier, but he wasn't selected to come."
"Brie would be relieved if she knew," I say. "Though, I'm assuming the City Guards will be more of an auxiliary force?"
"You think right," he tells me. "General Decimus doesn't want the interference. He knows how to run a Neoroman army. Add in foreign elements and it can spoil the broth. But..." he says, turning again to the door. "There is someone here who you may be interested in. He was...quite adamant that he come, even if he cannot contribute. I didn't have the heart to say no, really. He will join Secretary Burns's side as his aid."
"Who?" I ask, pressing him for a name.
"Adryan, of course," he tells me. "You saw how he was back in New Haven, Kira. He was beside himself with worry. I had to let him come. He feels better already, I think, being closer to Brie."
I sense an unpleasant conversation coming up with him, uncertain as to whether it was a good idea for him to be here. "He knows what's happening with her?" I ask. "She's fully under their control now, Dom."
"He knows," he says. "It's not something she hasn't been through before. There was Nestor, after all..."
"This is much bigger than that," I cut in. "So much bigger, Dom." I sigh, looking again at the door. "I'll travel with him," I say, "when we head for Olympus. I can help there, at least."
"You think I made a mistake?" he asks me. "Letting him come?"
I laugh to myself, shaking my head. It slips my mind, sometimes, that Dom is a powerful telepath. There's little I can hide from him.
"You already know what I think," I say to him. "But he's here now, so it doesn't matter. I'm sure he can be of use to Secretary Burns. We'll keep him busy, don't worry."
""Good. Well in that case, let's get off. It'll take some time to erect the camp when we arrive. The sooner we leave here, the better."
We step back out into the late morning sun, as the din of activity fills the air. It's a sound I rather like. It is the sound of progress.
173
AMBER
The car rattles and jumps as it hurtles northward across the plains. Sitting in the backseat, I look forward, leaning on the passenger seat ahead occupied by my grandmother.
Our chauffeur is Jude, proving himself adept behind the wheel. Certainly more than I am, at least. I'd told grandma that I'd drive, and that Jude didn't need to bother coming. She's insisted that he did, even though I don't think he's particularly interested.
How that's the case, I simply do not know. Who wouldn't want to look upon an army of thousands of Neoromans? The people fascinate me. I'm desperate to see what they look like in such numbers.
About half an hour ago, we'd spotted the convoy heading northwards across the plains. They were quite some distance away, but a large enough force to be visible from the eastern flank of town. The sentries there had immediately informed us, and we'd rushed across to take a look. Any concerns that they were an Olympian force were quickly dispelled by the direction in which they were coming from.
"It's them," I'd said, smiling gleefully. "It's the Neoromans..."
Leaving the rest behind in Hunter's Station, my grandmother, Jude and I had quickly hopped into a jeep to chase them down. My grandmother, I know, is quite keen to meet with their leaders, pledge her support, and show her face as soon as she can.
The ten mile distance is covered quickly, Jude knowing the journey well by now. I stare forward, eager, as the first signs of the great convoy begin to come into view. We lift above a small rise, and there they are. A grand collection of hundreds of strange vehicles, parked outside of the fort's southern gate.
There is a great deal of movement going on, soldiers marching in and out with supplies. Those soldiers give me the first peek at the Neoroman legion, broken down into cohorts, companies, and much smaller platoons. They are dressed in their silver armour, glinting under the sunlight. Unlike the Imperial Guards, they don't seem to have red capes and robes upon their backs, the crimson colour and finery helping to set those elite troops apart.
"They're unpacking the fort," Jude says, gazing forward as we rush towards them. "Doesn't look like they're going to stay long."
Outside, I can just about see Commander Maximus, ordering people about. The City Guards are there too, a much smaller, but still significant force. Some of their squads are also helping to unload the fort, though do so without the precision of the Neoroman troops, marching in and out in unison, working with an impressive degree of efficiency.
As we get a little closer, some of them take note of us. A few weapons rise in our direction - I see that those, too, are slim and silver, almost carrying the look of blades, rather than firearms. Maximus puts a stop to it, ordering them to lower their guard. We speed towards him as he steps in our direction, the jeep coming to a halt at the edge of the sprawling convoy.
I step out of the car, my body brimming excitedly, as the rush and din of the operation explodes to my eyes and ears. I gawp at those Neoroman troops, getting a much better look at them from here. Their armour is more simple, I see, than the Imperials Guards'. It isn't so embossed or embellished, their silver breastplates blank, their limbs protected by leather guards that, I assume, are fashioned to offer strong protection against both blade and bullet, while still allowing for flexibility and movement.
My grandmother doesn't seem quite so impressed, her eyes swaying over them with a mild interest before moving straight to Maximus. Jude, meanwhile, just stays in the car, mostly keen to keep himself to himself when stepping beyond the comfort zone of the Liberation League. Where, I must say, he's settled in with great alacrity, quickly becoming a figure of prominence with the fledgling militia.
"Commander," says my grandmother, as Maximus approaches. "You're managing this rabble are you?"
She flashes a smile, and Max returns it. She's come and gone here over the last few days, always eager to check in. I think everyone is getting used to her playful sense of humour. This Neoroman force is anything but a rabble.
"I'm helping," Max says. "We're planning to leave as soon as possible. Need to load supplies before we go."
"I have eyes, Maximus," grandma says. "They work quite well, too." She grins again, and then turns serious. "I'm very keen to meet the Emperor, if that's possible?" she says. "My granddaughter tells me he's quite lighthearted. I think we'll get along."
"I imagine you will too," Max says, perpetually serious in his tone. "You both appear to be that way inclined."
"Inclined to get along with people?" She frowns, playful again. "Shouldn't that be an inclination we all share?"
"In an ideal world," says Max. "I think it's obvious enough that this world isn't ideal."
"Not yet," she says. Then she sighs. "Not ever. But, we can do our part to tip the scale. So, the Emperor?"
He nods. "Of course," he says. "I believe he's having a private moment with Lady Kira. I will tell him you're here."
"Oh, well don't rush them on my account," grandma says. "They haven't seen each other in a while. I'm sure they don't want anyone...butting in."
"Grandma, control yourself," I say, seeing what she's getting at.
She lifts a wicked grin. "We'll stay here, Commander. We wouldn't want to get in the way."
As he rushes off, I shake my head at her. "Do you have to make comments like that?" I say. "He's a high profile Commander of the Neoroman Imperial Guard. He doesn't want to have to think of his Emperor, and future Empress doing..."
"Doing?"
"Well, you know. Don't be lewd, grandma."
"Lewd," she says, waving her hand away. "A fun, suggestive comment isn't being lewd, Amber. Don't be so prudish."
"Prudish?" I say, my voice lifting high. "I am not prudish..." She lifts her eyes, and I turn away. "Why am I even having this conversation with you. There's an entire Neoroman battalion marching about, and I'm talking with you about..."
"See, you can't even say the word," sh
e says, thoroughly enjoying torturing me. "So, you never... with Jude or Elian?"
"Oh my Prime!" I say. "Are you serious right now?"
"Of course, deadly serious." She turns to look into the car, not far away. Jude sits there, oblivious to the conversation. If only he could hear it. "So?"
I stare, resolute, out at the sea of vehicles and shining troops, shaking my head in disbelief. They form into little more than a blur, my mind far too distracted right now to actually enjoy this moment.
I'd been looking forward to it too. And now she's gone and ruined it.
I huff, quite audibly, to show my dissatisfaction. Eventually, grandma gets the message.
"Fine, fine," she says. "You don't want to talk about it. I respect that, Amber. Don't worry, I won't push you on it again."
"Yeah, right," I grunt. "That'll be the day."
"Yes, that will be the day," she says. "When you finally choose...Jude or Elian."
My face descends to a glower, my brows lowering quite angrily. This isn't a frown of confusion, but genuine annoyance now. I turn and look at her, and even let some dramatic wisps of fire coil and writhe around my head. I don't even need to say any words for her to realise she's crossed the line.
"Too far," she says. "Yes, too far. I know you're not thinking about that right now. I'm just being silly, Amber. Far too silly for an old woman. I'm sorry."
Her contrition appears genuine, though she is a fine actress. Either way, it quickly softens me up. And in the ensuing silence, my mind does turn again to Jude and Elian. Perhaps that was her game all along. If it was, she's a genius.
"I don't know, grandma," I whisper eventually. I look furtively up towards Jude, still sitting minding his own business behind the wheel of the jeep. "It's just so easy with Jude. But, we've been friends for so long and..."
"You wouldn't want to risk damaging that?"
I glance into her old, golden eyes, a look of understanding on her face. "I still don't know how it would be if we crossed that line, you know."
"You'd never know until you try," she says. "It's a risk that you have to be willing to take."
"I know," I say quietly.
"And Elian?" she asks. Her eyes move to the fort, the main gates wide open, but difficult to see through with all the activity going on. Elian will be in there somewhere, his powers now returned. I wonder if I'll find him back to his old self, playful like my grandmother, innocent behind all the false confidence and ego. There were times, when we trained together, where I thought he really was the one for me. I just...I haven't seen that person in a while. And with Jude back in the picture...
I shake my head. "I don't know," I say. "He's nice, you know. Behind the mask. He's really nice."
"I know, I know," she nods, sensing I'm trying to convince her. "I've seen plenty of that now. I wondered at first if he was only trying to impress me, but I see that it's genuine now. He asks how you are, each time I come here. I think he seeks me out for it."
"He does?" I say. So far, I've been too busy with the League, and Jude, to come back here over the last few days. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"I'm telling you now," she smiles. "I say you're doing well, by the way. That he'll see you soon."
I continue to look to the fort, trying to spot him. And then back to Jude again, sitting alone in the car. It remains an impossible choice. One that, in a way, I feel guilty even having to make.
Who am I, after all, to warrant such attention? Who am I to be fought over by two such wonderful young men?
At times, I don't feel like I deserve it. At times, I wonder if I'll miss the boat with them both. That I'll wake up one day, and find that Jude has met some lovely young girl from some far flung part of the Fringe. That Elian will realise that there are many more appropriate matches for him in Olympus, any of whom would jump at the chance to be with him once the war is done.
In some way, I hope for that to happen. At least then, I won't have a decision to make. At least then, I won't have to hurt anyone.
It is with some blessed relief that Max reappears, dragging me from my thoughts as he steps through the gate, and waves us over. With a spring to her step, grandma moves off. I trail behind, less energetic now. Damn that old woman for forcing me to think about this...
Thankfully, with distractions abounding, I begin to turn my focus again to the sight of the magnificent Neoroman troops. This is, I know, only a taste. Right now, most are probably still in their troop carriers, waiting to continue their journey. Oh, how I'd like to see them all lined up, grouped in their platoons and companies and hundreds-strong cohorts.
Imagine seeing the whole legion of three thousand, I think. Imagine seeing them all standing there, in perfectly spaced blocks, their armour gleaming under the sun...
The image makes me smile, driving off thoughts of Jude and Elian as we step after Max and back into the fort. It's weird to be back here, after several days. It isn't a place I'm going to soon forget. Nor a place I'm going to miss.
"Right this way," Max says, turning us from the main yard, where the troops march in and out with supplies. There are more of those than I'd thought, a good amount of food stocks and additional weapons and armour. I see my grandmother looking at them interestedly. She may be looking to procure some for the League.
We're led to the southwestern side of the fort, leaving the bustle behind. Here, the place remains intact; it escaped the bombardment from several nights ago. We move towards an auxiliary building that carries the look of a barrack. Outside, I spot the vibrant red locks of Kira, so richly coloured and hard to miss. And beside her, the resplendent and kingly form of her future husband, Emperor Domitian, draped in his fine crimson robes and magnificent ceremonial armour.
I must admit, the sight of the man causes me to lose half a breath. My grandmother's reaction is similar, raising her eyes in admiration of his warm, dark, exotic good looks. We're led right towards them by Max, who nods to the Emperor, before stepping immediately away to continue his work. I fully expect my grandmother to begin the conversation herself, knowing her penchant for dominating such exchanges, but she allows the Emperor to do so, showing him the due respect he deserves.
"Good morning," he says, looking first to my grandmother. "It is a great pleasure to meet you, Alberta. I am honoured to step foot on your lands."
"The honour is ours, Emperor Domitian," she says, bowing her head "and the pleasure is mine. We are very happy to have you."
They both dip their heads in respect of one another. I suppose my grandmother is used to such interactions, living among the luminaries of Olympus all those years.
"Amber," Domitian says, turning to me. "It's nice to see you again. I hear you're quite interested in our Neoroman legion?"
I nod, quite unable to maintain my composure like my grandmother can in the face of the man. "They're...awesome," I say, squeaking the words out.
Awesome, Amber? Really? That's the best you can come up with?
His smile is warm and bright as the midday sun. "They most certainly are," he says generously. "Perhaps you'll get to see them in full flow soon. There are few better sights in this world."
"Spoken like a true Neoroman," my grandmother says. "I understand you have a great passion for war, Emperor Domitian?"
"It's in our blood, Alberta," he says. "We have some dark patches in our history, yes, but we do not seek wanton conquest anymore. We only try to liberate lands under subjugation, as well as defend our own."
"It's a...complicated subject," grandma nods. "I understand your mother's rule was paved in a great deal of blood. If you want it enough, it's easy to find justification to invade other people's lands. I should know. I helped conquer the very lands we stand on now, when I was a weapon of the Prime."
"Then you understand the complexities of war," Domitian says. "And you are right about my mother. She was skilled at justifying the military conquests she commanded. But by the end, she didn't even try to. She took what she wanted, and spilled much blood b
ecause of it. Under Lucius and I, those days are gone."
"For now," says grandma, ever direct, no matter who she's speaking to. "But you are both young. Who knows where future events will lead you."
The Emperor nods slowly at that, and I see his eyes turn away. I feel as though grandma has touched upon some concern, some insecurity. Does he, perhaps, fear he may become his mother? I remember hearing that there is a strain of madness in their bloodline, in the particular telepathic power they possess. It must be a heavy weight to bear, a lingering threat ever in his mind.
"Anyway," grandma goes on. "Let's not turn to morbid things. The past and the future are not relevant today. We can agree, at least, that we are all here in common, moral purpose. The Prime may become the greatest tyrant of all if we do not stop them."
"That is what we are here for," Domitian says, his words a little stiffer. "I assume you have thoughts on how we should approach things?"
"Sieging the city? No," she says, shaking her head. "I haven't been there in decades, and you have Perses to provide the insight you will need. No, Emperor Domitian, I am merely here to pledge my support, and that of the Liberation League and its associated militia. I feel we can be of help to our mutual cause, whether directly or indirectly. We have a right, I feel, to have a voice in what is done on our own lands."
"Of course, Alberta," Domitian says. "But I am not the man to speak to about this. The legion is under the command of General Decimus. Come this way, and you shall meet him."
He turns, and steps off, as my grandmother moves to his side. Kira holds back a moment and joins mine.
"How are things going in Hunter's Station?" she asks. "I heard about some of the League's leaders going south. Have you not considered doing the same?"
"It's been considered," I say, nodding. "But the rest of us want to stay and help. You know how dangerous the world is out there, Kira. We have hope we can liberate these lands, and the people can live free."
"It's the right course," she says. "Leaving was foolish."
