Your Pon Q’tar masters will not be happy to hear of your failure to destroy my expedition, Khristos, he thought. But don’t worry.
The Afterlife willing, we’ll be back.
CHAPTER XXIX
“WE CAN AFFORD NO MORE FAILURES, GRACCHUS!” BENEDIKPryam shouted.
The incensed cleric could scarcely control his emotions. He and the others could see no end to the troubles this latest defeat might cause. Rising from his seat, he started anxiously pacing the room.
“You told us that theJin’Sai would be stopped in the Caves!” he went on, venting his fury. “Now you bring us word that Tristan, part of his Conclave, and two Minion phalanxes sail the Azure Sea in his Black Ships! Moreover, the sea walls have risen! Surely we needn’t remind you of this campaign’s importance-the same campaign that you said would bring an end to all our troubles! Who knows what might happen should theJin’Sai reach Shashida! Tristan and his twin sister must be destroyed once and for all!”
Pausing for a moment, Benedik stopped pacing and glared angrily into Gracchus’ eyes.
“The state of our treasury is such that this campaign must succeed!” he added, his tone deadly serious. “We waited for aeons for the Blood Royal to be born, just as the current mystics living on the world’s other side waited for their reigningJin’Sai. I also needn’t remind you that despite their lesser prowess in the craft, Tristan’s mystics are not so different from us. Vespasian is perfect for our needs, and his like might never be seen again. But the same can be said for Shashida and theJin’Sai! Admittedly, the depleted state of the treasury and the Blood Royal’s coming of age are unfortunate coincidences. Even so, our course has been set. Our primary concern was once the taking of the Shashidan mines, not the killing of the reigningJin’Sai. But with every step that brings Tristan closer to Shashida, we are no longer certain which struggle is more important!”
Gracchus fumed as he watched Benedik pace and rant. How could they possibly doubt him? he asked himself. He was the most learned and powerful of them all. Had it not been he who launched the successful revolt against Shashida, ensuring that the cause of the Vagaries would survive? Had he not succeeded those many centuries ago, the hated Shashidan Vigors worshippers would still rule all the land west of the Tolenkas. Their pompous self-righteousness would to this very day stifle the craft’s admittedly more chaotic but infinitely more appealing opposite side, refusing to allow it to flower. The revolution he brought forth had been unprecedented, earth-shattering. Rustannica owed its very existence to him, and no one here could deny that. Characteristic of his vaunted ego, he considered the failure to stop Tristan a temporary setback rather than an outright defeat. But of even greater import was Gracchus’ other plan-the one that involved destroying Shailiha. And this time he would not fail.
The camouflaged tent in which thePon Q’tar convened sat far away from the main body of Vespasian’s war camp. Like the Oraculum Tempitatum, it too was shrouded in invisibility. This was not a full meeting of the Suffragat, nor was it meant to be. Only the twelve clerics were present, and by meeting in secret this way they were breaking one of Rustannica’s highest laws.
Called the Vetare Secretum, the Law Prohibiting Secrecy, it forbade thePon Q’tar, the Tribunes, or the Priory to meet in secret for the purpose of conspiring. The penalty for violating the law was death. Proposed more than ten centuries ago by an emperor named Polydorus, the law was quickly passed.
Like Vespasian, Polydorus had become suspicious of thePon Q’tar. Also like Vespasian, Polydorus had been greatly admired by the military, birthing like-minded concerns of eroding influence among the paranoid clerics. Like many ad hoc laws formed by struggling governments, the Vetare Secretum was ratified more out of personal need to retain power than from an altruistic desire to help the nation.
Truth be known, the schemingPon Q’tar had violated the law from the start, despite the harsh punishment they would suffer should they be discovered. Given Vespasian’s powerful command of the craft and his close ties to the Legionary Tribunes, violating the Vetare Secretum under his rule was far riskier than during the reigns of previous, weaker emperors.
Because they were the most experienced craft practitioners in all the land, thePon Q’tar were immensely powerful, to be sure. But even they realized that should they be caught violating Vetare Secretum, with a snap of his fingers Vespasian could command the military to execute them all, and do so lawfully. If thePon Q’tar chose to fight, the ensuing battle would be monumental. But in the end the military wing would triumph because of their overwhelming numbers. And so the future of the imperial monarchy always tilted on a strange fulcrum that was the reigning emperor, weighted on one side by thePon Q’tar mystics’ secret schemes and on the other by the military’s overwhelming might.
The war tent in which thePon Q’tar met this night was uncharacteristically small and conspicuously missing the elaborate trappings usually accompanying the clerics’ lofty stations. They sat on simple wooden stools, and a single oil lamp hung from the rafters. The tent’s canvas sides and top were dyed black to match the night that surrounded them, should for some reason the craft cloak be broken.
Each member had traded his or her white and burgundy robe for a drab one, in case they should be found conspiring in the night and need to escape quickly. But that likelihood was not great, for not only was the tent shrouded by the craft, but the clerics’ words were enchanted to travel no farther than the canvas sides and roof that entrapped them. Even so, far greater risk prevailed in this canvas house afield than in Ellistium. There such traitorous meetings could be held in hundreds of secret places, safely contained by far sturdier walls and far from prying eyes, roving centurions, and eavesdropping ears.
Gracchus had communed with Khristos only hours ago. When he reached out to touch the Viper Lord’s mind he had desperately hoped that theJin’Sai was dead, his ships burned, and his Conclave and Minions killed to the last. But then Khristos told him the bitter truth.
The news had been far worse than Gracchus had anticipated, but even so he would tell thePon Q’tar the unvarnished facts. Despite how easily he might betray and manipulate Vespasian, Persephone, the Tribunes, and the Priory, he was always honest with his fellow clerics. Seated before them in much the same way that Vespasian presided over the Suffragat in the Rectoris Aedifficium, Gracchus suddenly felt naked and alone as he endured their harsh stares.
Even so, he refused to be intimidated. Rising from his seat, he grasped the shoulder folds of his robe in one hand and looked Benedik squarely in the eyes.
“You overstate the threat, my friend,” Gracchus answered. “While the best strategy was to stop theJin’Sai in the Caves, he and his forces remain a long way from Shashida. Just as we have the Borderlands, the Ones have their Azure Sea. Moreover, they cannot be sure whether their long awaitedJin’Sai is truly sailing those waters, because their seer is no more adept at viewing what happens in the caves than is our Oraculum. Simply put, the dangers of the Azure Sea will conspire against theJin’Sai just as if we were crossing rather than he. He has but one course available to him. He will not survive the journey-of that we can be sure.”
Another cleric rose from her seat to address Gracchus. Lowering the hood of her robe, she showed herself to be Cynthia Flavanius, one of thePon Q’tar ’s most powerful craft practitioners. As he looked at her, Gracchus felt a pang go through his heart, just as he always did when he found himself in her presence.
More than any other cleric, Cynthia Flavanius had supported Gracchus during the dark, early days when Rustannica split from Shashida. Her counsel had been invaluable, her allegiance to the Vagaries unshakable. She had fought beside him, given him hope, and later shared his bed.
As the centuries passed, Rustannica developed into a powerful nation and the capital city of Ellistium became secure from attack. ThePon Q’tar was formed, and Gracchus and Cynthia became members. Not long after, they were married. Their only child, a son named Ajax, soon followed.
But in his inimitable way Gracchus had anticipated those obstacles and soon plotted to overcome them. When he came of age, Ajax would take military training and become a legionnaire, Gracchus decided, and later a Tribune. If Ajax could garner enough support among his fellow Tribunes, the anticipated vote in the Suffragat to declare him emperor would be far more assured.
But like any mother faced with the prospect of watching her son march off to pursue a military career, Cynthia had her misgivings. She first asked, then pleaded, then finally demanded that Gracchus alter the course he had set for their only child. But Gracchus would not be dissuaded, nor would their young son, whose head soon became filled with tales of Rustannican military glory and honor. When Ajax entered his training, then attained the rank of Tribune some years later, Gracchus could not have been prouder. But Cynthia’s worried heart trembled even more for her only child.
Knowing what was expected of him, Ajax understood that being an ordinary Tribune would not be enough to achieve his father’s plan. To one day become emperor, Ajax must also become a national hero. And so time after time he volunteered for the most hazardous duty, for only that would secure his needed fame. With that duty came many successes and the growing loyalty and admiration of his fellow Tribunes, some of whom were older than he and serving on the Suffragat. His path seemed certain, and with his father’s guidance the once looming obstacles in his way were easily devoured.
Then one day came the shattering news. As Gracchus read the scroll, his hands trembled and his heart broke.
During a campaign to take some Shashidan high ground, Ajax had been killed. There hadn’t been enough of his body left to send home, adding to Cynthia’s and Gracchus’ inability to properly mourn. The shocking news sent Cynthia first into hysterics, then into grief, and finally into rage at Gracchus for so cruelly manipulating their only child. Even Gracchus finally saw his mistake, but by then it was too late. He extended an olive branch by offering to adopt a child, but Cynthia had become too bitter, and her heart had fallen into too many pieces to be repaired. With her love for Gracchus irreparably shattered, she petitioned for divorce.
Save for service in the legions, from the beginning of the Rustannican Empire women enjoyed the same rights as men in all things. The right to petition for divorce was no different, and there was no social stigma attached to it. Moreover, when a divorce was granted, the woman could demand the return of her dowry, helping to ensure that she would have financial independence and not become a burden to the state.
This was especially true of the krithian class, in which dowries could reach fantastic sums, making divorce very expensive for the husband. Paying back a woman’s dowry was seen as a matter of honor. Any husband who refused or could not do so was socially ostracized, and his further advancement in Rustannican society remained unlikely until proper restitution was made. Even then the stigma remained, and few such recalcitrants saw their fortunes improve. Cynthia’s dowry had been huge, and its subsequent return from Gracchus’ coffers helped make her one of the richest women in Rustannica. With such wealth added to her great command of the craft and her membership in thePon Q’tar, she was a force to reckon with.
Gracchus watched as Cynthia lowered the hood of her robe. To this day she took his breath away, and he again felt his heart ache not only for the loss of his son, but for the loss of her love. That had been many centuries ago, and neither of them had remarried.
Granted the time enchantments at the young age of forty-three, she looked as lovely now as she did then. Her eyes were blue and wide-set; graceful eyebrows arched over them, lending them an exotic look. A mass of dense blond curls reached to her shoulders. Her graceful jawline was firm and strong, her lips full and inviting. Her form was seductive, its alluring shape only partly hidden by the ill-fitting robe.
Because of her many obvious attributes, it was said that over the centuries hosts of suitors had asked for her hand, but not one was chosen. It was also rumored that she had taken many lovers in an attempt to dull her grief, but not even Gracchus knew for sure.
As he looked again into her lovely face he wondered what she might say. Would it be a further condemnation of his failed plan? he wondered. Or would it be some other way to hurt him again for his mistakes of so long ago?
“You are forgetting something, Gracchus,” she said. “You are right when you say that because theJin’Sai sails the Azure Sea, we can no longer take direct action against him. But there is something more to this puzzle that you have avoided. I was wondering whether you might address it, but since you haven’t, I feel the need to do so in your stead.”
Gracchus steeled himself against her next words, for he now knew what she would say.
“What of his blood?” she asked. “We have been told that his blood will open many locked doors and remove many obstacles in his path, simply because of its majestic quality. As you know, this information was gleaned long ago from more than one highly placed Shashidan mystic whom we captured in battle and later tortured. The information was obtained many separate times over several centuries. Its veracity is irrefutable.”
Pausing for a moment, Cynthia gazed deeply into Gracchus’ eyes. As she did, he found the loss of her love far more defeating than anything else she might say.
“So tell us, Gracchus,” she said. “Might theJin’Sai ’s blood not guide him safely across the Azure Sea? Despite your reassurances, is there still not cause for great concern?”
“Perhaps,” he answered. “But you know as well as I that the information gleaned from those Shashidan mystics has never been tested. We have no way of knowing whether it is true. And after all, every one of our ships and crews that tried to cross that sea was never heard from again.”
A short smile crossed Cynthia’s lips. “In any event, because of your recent failures it seems we will soon have our answer,” she said. “And if the answer is the wrong one, all our plans for Vespasian might come to naught. You must judge the import of all that for yourself. I have already formed my opinions, and I find them distressing. Of perhaps even greater concern is that you promised Vespasian that the reigningJin’Sai couldn’t possibly leave his side of the world. Should that prove untrue, I for one would not wish to endure our emperor’s wrath. Your twisted creation might yet turn on you.”
Still on his feet, Benedik turned to again glare at Gracchus. “Cynthia is right,” he said. “What say you about all this?”
“I say that it doesn’t matter,” Gracchus announced, still refusing to be humbled. “We cannot know what will become of theJin’Sai. Thus it becomes pointless to worry about it. What will be will be. I will deal with Vespasian should the need arise. For now I suggest we discuss something about which wecan take immediate action.”
“And what is that?” Aegaea Mithridates asked.
“The destruction of theJin’Saiou, ” Gracchus answered. “Never forget that she carries equal importance. She must be dealt with while we still possess the means to do so. I know that the hour is late, but you must hear my plan.”
“Very well,” Benedik answered.
As the single lamp burned and the night wore on, Gracchus outlined his scheme to destroy Shailiha. In the end, even Cynthia Flavanius was impressed.
CHAPTER XXX
TRISTAN LEANED AGAINST THETAMMERLAND’S STERN gunwale watching the two Black Ships bound across the azure waves. Tyranny captained theTammerland while Scars skippered theEphyra. The wind was brisk and they were making good time. Then Tristan wondered about that.
Trying to gauge the ships’ progress in this strange place was frustr
ating, for the only way to do so was to watch the monolithic rock walls slip by on either side. One couldn’t estimate the rate of travel by looking up at the millions of glowing radiance stones embedded into the massive channel ceiling, for as Tyranny said, they showed no discernible pattern. Sailing this way was dangerous, the craggy walls waiting to tear the ships apart should they drift from their courses and strike them. To travel more safely, theEphyra followed theTammerland rather than sail beside her. With the dark walls looming on either side, Tristan couldn’t escape the gnawing feeling that they might be sailing straight into another trap.
He still had no answer as to why the dark walls had suddenly risen. They had not appeared the first time he visited the Azure Sea, nor had they been present during the first part of the battle against Khristos and the vipers. Only after Ox was ferrying Tristan toward the ships had the walls thundered up from the depths to meet the glowing cavern ceiling. But they surely existed now, and their overpowering presence disturbed him, for he could do little but watch the dark stone walls move silently by, their surfaces forbidding and treacherous.
The channel down which theTammerland andEphyra sailed was uncomfortably narrow. Tristan guessed it to be about one-eighth of a league wide. The riverlike channel trapped between the walls often snaked back and forth, making it impossible to see what lay beyond. Night Witch patrols had flown nearly to the point of no return, only to report that nothing laid ahead save for more of the same. Trying to navigate such treacherous waters was something that no one aboard had ever experienced.
Nerves were starting to fray, especially those of Tyranny and Scars. Their sure hands were constantly needed on the ships’ wheels, and Tristan knew that the privateer and her first mate grew more tired by the minute. Tristan guessed that when his mystics could sail the ships through the air they would be less subject to the whims of the wind and the water and the going would be safer. But he did not know when that might be, so until then they could only press on atop the waves.
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