Spirit of the Sword: Faith and Virtue (The First Sword Chronicles Book 2)

by Frances Smith

  The air in front of His Highness sparked and fizzled, but there was no great flame, there was no pillar of fire. More importantly there was no demon.

  Amy lowered her great sword. "I've heard that sorcery doesn't always work."

  "That is true, for the most part," His Highness said. "But as the Eldest One is awake, though imprisoned, calling upon him is not nearly so haphazard."

  "I fear, Your Highness, that Aggaroth is dead," Michael said. "Or rather I fear it not at all but know it true, since it was my hand that slew him."

  Jason stared at him. "You killed him? When?"

  "A few nights ago, Your Highness, when I led Filia Tullia out of the Black Abyss."

  His Highness was silent for a moment. "Truly?"

  Michael nodded. "Filia Tullia is in Heavenvault now, and I am pleased to say that Princess Fiannuala has also found dwellings appropriate to her station."

  "Really?" Amy said, her voice soft, almost trembling. "So she's... she's... how can you ask if a dead girl is all right? It sounds absurd."

  "She is with her mother in Dala's woods," Michael said. "I know that I can offer no proof-"

  "You wouldn't lie about something like this," Amy said. "You don't have to prove it."

  "As grateful as I am," Jason said. "And I do not wish it to be thought that I am not, why was it necessary to kill Aggaroth? He was a useful servant."

  "He was abusing Filia Tullia in the abyss when I came upon them," Michael said, his voice as hard as any cliff of barren stone. "So I slew him, released her from his predations, and brought her out of that dark pit."

  His Highness' looked a little sickly. "He was... it can't be. He was a loyal servant."

  "He was a bloody demon, for the love of all the gods," Amy snapped. "I warned you that they weren't to be trusted, didn't I? I'm sure he cringed before your face, bowed and scraped, yes master, no master, but all the time he was watching you and watching Tullia, and when he could get his hands on her he did. That's what you were associating with, that's what you trusted with your life, with all our lives. That is why you don't trust demons."

  "Oh, so as well as spirit magic and inspiring warriors you are also an expert in demon summoning?" Jason asked. "How talented you are at such a young age."

  Amy's eyes blazed. Her jaw clenched, and she advanced on His Highness so rapidly that Michael feared that she would strike him. Instead she began to speak in a voice as sharp as the edge of Magnus Alba. "Demon summoning is prohibited in God's domain, but there are those who practice it anyway. Fools like you, or worse, who think that they can control the powers of evil, who think that they can stop whenever they want to, who think that they can use demons and darkness to their own ends and remain uncorrupted by it. It never works.

  "One of Ser Viola's holdings was a village called Merathine. It wasn't much of a place: a score of houses, some farms beyond, and the hall of the local knight, a fat old naiad called Ser Lucio, sworn to Kraken Tower; Ser Viola's only a knight herself, but she has knights who owe her service, it's complicated, never mind. Anyway, in Merathine there was a fool like you who thought that the dark powers were toys to be played with, who thought that he could use demons like pets to better his lot in life. And then he lost control, as those who play with demons always do.

  "A merman swam all the way to Kraken Tower to tell Ser Viola that there was a demon loose, and she rode at once back to Merathine with me behind her, and when she got there she slew the demon. But by then it was too late. Everyone was dead, save for the merman who had brought the word. Ser Lucio was dead; the fool who had summoned the monster was dead along with his wife and children, and his neighbours, and everyone else who had lived in the village. Merfolk and naiads, male and female, young and old. Have you seen a little girl's head ripped off her shoulders and thrown aside like a broken doll? Have you see the water so clogged with blood that sharks are drawn to it from all directions? Have you see one of your trusted servants eating someone alive? Have you seen a whole community wiped out by pure evil? Well, have you?"

  Jason bowed his head. "No."

  "Then don't tell me what I do and don't know about demons," Amy snarled. "They're evil, pure and simple. They weren't made by the Eldest One, but by a power far older and far worse; and they cannot be trusted. Don't use them, don't summon them and don’t trust them because whatever you give them they'll use it against you sooner or later. Most likely your Aggaroth, once he had his fun, would have tried to bargain for his freedom with Tullia's soul, and then you'd be as dead as she is.

  "You cannot use the weapons of evil to do good," Amy said. "Now your demon is dead, and you're better off without."

  "I have made my decision," Gideon said, walking back towards them, leaning heavily upon his stick. "I will open a way through the spirit realm for us."

  Michael's brow furrowed. "Gideon, is that safe?"

  "Probably not, but needs must," Gideon said lightly.

  "Gideon-"

  "I am the First Sword of the Empire, Michael, I cannot shy away from risk when the future of the Empire is at stake," Gideon said sharply. "I will not. Though I will concede I will not have the strength to complete the journey in a single move. We will have to stage our progress, though I daresay we will still reach the capital faster than we would afoot." He paused for a moment. "The journey will be dangerous. I will be relying on you to protect me along the way."

  "That we will do, Gideon," Michael said. "I swear it."

  Gideon smiled. "Do not blame yourself, Michael, for I do not. These matters are out of our control."

  "A fact which changes nothing, Gideon," Michael replied. "I have failed. That is all there is to it."

  "Do not speak of failure until Quirian has turned the Empire to ashes," Gideon said. "For now: make ready, all of you. We depart at first light."

  IV

  The Empress' Champion

  "You know," Miranda said as the palanquin carried her along. "It's really quite strange if you think about it."

  "What is?" Octavia asked.

  Miranda leaned back, settling on the cushions. "Lord Quirian brought me to this city to work for Prince Antiochus. And yet I hardly see him at all, I interact far more with Portia and Princess Romana."

  Octavia cocked her head to one side. "Do you want to see more of Prince Antiochus?"

  "Not especially," Miranda muttered.

  "Is it because of the way he acted after Lysimachus attacked?"

  "No," Miranda said. "Well, a little, but he could have made up for that, and for a while I thought that he had. It was after that, that day when you were injured. When it seemed as though he might not get the golems after all, he became very upset. Savage, almost. It was a side to him that I didn't welcome seeing."

  Octavia frowned. "Did you tell Lord Father about it?"

  "He wasn't there, he had already left for Corona," Miranda said.

  "You could have told him after he returned."

  "I doubt he'd be interested," Miranda replied. "I... something is going on between Lord Quirian and Prince Antiochus. Their relationship... Lord Quirian is more than just the prince's servant or toady. I don't know, perhaps I'm thinking too much."

  "I don't think so," Octavia said.

  "Why not?" Miranda asked.

  "Lord Father is very proud," Octavia said. "You might not know how proud he is, because you didn't grow up in his house like I did. But he is, trust me. I... I find it hard to believe that he serves anyone, sometimes. I'm not sure Lord Father is humble enough."

  Miranda chuckled. "You make a very good point, one that I should have thought of myself, for I have seen enough of Lord Quirian's pride without being raised by him. You're right, he wouldn't serve anyone, certainly not if they were inferior to him as Prince Antiochus is in wits and charm, unless there were something in it for him. And somehow I don't think that the Imperial favour counts as something, or why serve the prince and not the Emperor?"

  Octavia smiled. "I don't suppose you can just ask Prince Antiochus?
"

  Miranda shook her head. "I'm not averse to boldness, upon occasion, but that would be a little too bold, even for me. 'Your Highness, why do you think Lord Quirian is serving a little man like you?' No, I can't see that happening."

  Octavia giggled.

  The litter carried them both towards the palace, a journey so familiar that Miranda had every detail of the route memorised: down Thetis Way, past the Inn of the Empress' Crown, and then turn left onto the Livian Way and across the fringes of the Andronicus' Square, where there were usually two girls - a fire mage and a knife juggler - performing for coin. They were there today, and Miranda squandered a few idle moments watching them, the yellow flames from leaping from the palms of the fire mage’s hands and dancing in Miranda's eyes. Then it was up Sweet Chariot Way where half the houses had banners up in support of the Blue racing faction. The corner of the street was a favoured spot for clashes with the Grey, but there was no fighting today, just a trio of thuggish, slightly inebriated looking men standing on the corner with swords on their hips looking for challengers. The sight of Miranda's dozen guards, led by Aelia, seemed to intimidate them a little, and as Miranda's palanquin turned to head up the Imperial Way a patrol of the city watch had already descended upon the three, breaking up the trio and moving them along.

  And so they came to the palace, passing through the purple gate that separated the Imperial family and bureaucracy from the common folk over whom they ruled.

  She was met outside the palace, not by a guards officer, or by Princess Romana, but by Prince Antiochus himself, standing there awaiting her, with a woman upon his arm who Miranda had not seen before.

  The Prince was a tall man, with soft, dark hair a face that would have been handsome had it not been for the awful moustache colonising his upper lip. He took Miranda's hand to help her out of the litter, but ended up half yanking her out of it so hard Miranda nearly stumbled and fell.

  "Miranda," he said. "How good it is to see you again. Truly, it has been too long."

  "It is kind of you to say so, Your Highness," Miranda said softly.

  Antiochus smiled, and gestured to the woman beside him. "Miranda, allow me to present Messalina Verra, brother of my friend Dio. We are engaged to be married."

  "Filia Miranda," Messalina purred. "I am so glad to finally meet you. Your reputation precedes you in every way." Messalina's brother Dio was an ugly man, but looking at his sister it was clear that she had inherited more than her fair share of the family's good looks. Her hair was black as night, and she must have been as aware of that as Miranda for she had deliberated strung diamonds through it which, when they caught the sunlight, sparkled like the stars in the night's blanket. She wore a pearl in one ear, and not the other, and surrounded by black hair as it was it gave off some impression of the moon. Her eyes were emerald, big and alluring, and her lips were full and painted a vivacious red; red, too, her dress, which revealed a great deal. She was adorned in rubies, which sparkled around her neck like fiery embers burning against her milky skin.

  "Filia Messalina," Miranda said. "A pleasure to meet you. Allow me, in turn, to present to you my lover, Octavia Volucris."

  Octavia bobbed her head up and down. "Filia Messalina."

  "Hmm," Messalina murmured, casting an eye over Octavia and then returning her attention wholly to Miranda. "Is it your habit of dragging your lover everywhere, Miranda, no matter how inappropriate?"

  Miranda's eyes narrowed a little. "Inappropriate?"

  "His Highness' words are meant for you," Messalina said. "Not for every common ear."

  Miranda smiled. "And what are you, Filia, but His Highness' lover dragged into this meeting, no matter how inappropriate?"

  Antiochus growled, but Messalina laughed. "Oh, excellent, Miranda. Absolutely wonderful. I see that your reputation for insolence was not undeserved. I think we're going to have a lot of fun together, you and I."

  "Do you?" Miranda muttered. "Your Highness, I congratulate you on your choice of a bride who is not only beautiful but has a sense of humour, but did you summon me merely to show her off?"

  "Surely that would be sufficient reason, Miranda," Messalina said. "Do I not dazzle you, after all? Say yes, or I'll be very hurt."

  "Then I shall have to push the limits of insolence just a little further, Filia Messalina."

  Messalina roared with laughter once again. "Keep this one, Antiochus, if only for amusement value."

  "I shall certainly keep her if I can, darling," Antiochus said. "Though, to be frank, Miranda, that is why I asked you here."

  "To keep me?" Miranda said.

  Antiochus sighed. "I am very worried, Filia."

  "About what, Your Highness?" Miranda asked.

  "Your relationship with Portia," Antiochus said. "In my opinion you are far too close with that woman. I trust you recall that it is I who brought you here, and have lavished on you everything you have."

  "Most of what I have was given to me by Lord Quirian, Highness, but I will take your point," Miranda said. "But I do not recall you ever telling me that I could have no friends, and delivery of golems has continued at a decent rate, has it not?"

  "That isn't the point!" Antiochus snapped. "You are supposed to be on my side, not hers!"

  "I thought that you were on the side of the Empire, Highness."

  "I don't understand," Antiochus said. "I thought we understood one another. I thought that you grasped my vision, and approved of it."

  "I did, Your Highness, and still do," Miranda said sharply. "I do not see what any of this has to do with Portia, or any closeness there may be between us."

  "In truth, Miranda, I cannot see what you find appealing in the company of that vapid, foolish girl," Messalina said. "I can't stand more than a few moments in her company."

  "And yet you are joining her family," Miranda murmured. "Some might call that an unfortunate choice."

  "It is my family," Antiochus snapped. "My family, not hers. I am the blood of Panthus and Thetis; she is just an outsider who has risen above her station."

  "Hush now, my love, you grow too passionate when you speak on this," Messalina said lightly. She reached out and grasped hold of Miranda's hands. "Surely you can agree, Miranda, that it would be better for the Empire if Antiochus remained Demodocus' heir, and succeeded him to the throne in the fullness of time? Surely you can agree that the Empire would be best served if Demodocus did not have a child?"

  "Who can tell what kind of children he and Portia would have?" Miranda replied. "How can a living man be compared to a hypothetical. In any case, Portia has not yet given His Majesty a child, so I ask again: what objections have you to my friendship with her?"

  "Of course, we all praise Elyo and Sera that Portia has so far remained barren," Messalina said. "And if our prayers are answered she will remain so. But, for the sake of our security, for the good of the Empire, it may become necessary to... annul the Emperor's marriage to the servant girl. We would not like your loyalties to be torn between your friend and your patron."

  Miranda's mouth suddenly felt very dry, and her hands began to sweat where they grasped the top of her walking cane. "Is that so? And where would this... annulment leave Portia?"

  "Back to the hole she crawled out of," Antiochus growled.

  "Excuse me?" Miranda demanded.

  "Why are you taking her side?" Antiochus yelled. "I am your master! Me! Not that maid!"

  "Hush, love, hush," Messalina urged, stroking the side of his face and kissing him upon the cheek and lips. "Hush, now, before you grow too agitated and lose all reason. As for the answer to your question, Miranda, that depends upon the manner of the annulment. If the Emperor is willing to put her aside, if she is willing to sacrifice her happiness for the good of the Empire, then some out of the way estate may be found for her to live out her days in comfort. If she will not go, if the Emperor will not make her, then, alas..."

  "No," Miranda said with all the firmness of one of the great walls that encircled Eternal Panth
eia.

  Messalina blinked. "No, Miranda?"

  "I'll allow no harm to come to Portia," Miranda said. "None at all, I forbid it."

  "You forbid it?" Antiochus said, sounding though he was about to choke.

  "This is what we were afraid of, Miranda," Messalina murmured.

  "Then perhaps you shouldn't have decided that murder was an acceptable possibility," Miranda snapped. "Was it you, Your Highness?"

  "Was it me what?"

  "The two assassins who scaled the walls and assailed Portia, Princess Romana and myself. At the time I thought that Helen Manzikes had sent them to kill me, but she denied it and this... did you send those men to kill Portia?"

  Prince Antiochus laughed. "Did I... the question is so ridiculous it does not deserve an answer."

  How I wish I could believe that, Miranda thought. "Your Highness," she said softly. "You impressed me, at one time, with your thoughtfulness and intelligence. I still find your solution to the crisis facing the Empire to be better than Romana's, and I understand what you mean when you say that the Emperor has no solution. But I will permit no harm to come to Portia. I make that very clear, to both of you."

  "And who do you think you are," Antiochus demanded. "To dictate terms to a prince of the Imperial line?"

  "I am the last inheritor of the Aurelian magic, your highness," Miranda said simply. "I am the one with all the powers that you rely on. I might as well ask who you are, to yell at me, to treat me like a possession or a trained monkey, to dictate anything to me. You need me, Your Highness, you need me more than I need you. Keep your gold, if you wish. Portia's life, her health, her happiness. That is my price from you."

  Miranda raised her head proudly, and stepped back, wrenching herself free of Messalina's grasp. "And now, Your Highness, Filia Messalina, I think that I had best be going. Filia, it was lovely to meet you."

  "Miranda, wait!" Messalina caught her as she was climbing into the litter, gripping her arm tightly enough to hurt. She leaned in close, and whispered into Miranda's ear. "I called you amusing before, because it is always better to laugh than to scowl, but you are quite mistaken if you think that I will let you speak to me that way when I am Empress."