A burst of light flashed over the room, painting the walls in a sharp white. The raven’s eyes flickered and dimmed down to their standard setting, hardly brighter than any other creature’s eyes. It squawked and fluttered its wings against Ben’s firm grasp. He loosened his grip, and Hüginn shot out like an arrow to the ceiling. The mechanical bird circled the room, flapping its fully functional wings before returning to Ben, perching on his shoulder.
“Good raven,” he whispered, patting the robotic bird on the head. “Record a message for me to send to Rose. Then you’re going back outside to find me that Vault.”
26
Longinus
White Tree, Bacchuso; Ænæria
Longinus hurried around from room to room, floor to floor. City nobles, high-ranking Rhion, diplomats, and the king himself would be arriving shortly. She barked at the slaves brought from Kolpos to speed up their cleaning; they had spent the entire afternoon and well into the evening scrubbing tables, sweeping floors, and setting tables.
The war room had been transformed into an open dance floor with chairs and stands along the periphery to hold drinks and snacks. Silos and meat cellars had been emptied, and every kitchen in the town had been put to work preparing enough food for the feast. Candles were placed all around, brightening the room and offering a referring scent.
Even though much of the work could be done by slaves, this would still serve as an expensive affair. Longinus had little idea as to how she would pay for all of this after her uncle left. She really hoped he wouldn’t make events like this a common affair.
Nico stayed with her for the better part of the afternoon, helping her speed up the process. There was little work she could do herself without her right hand. Moons still weren’t enough for her to get used to the missing limb. Sometimes she had a sensation of the hand, as if it were still there, a throbbing sharp pain that mocked her for her arrogance in the arena.
Nico fastened the metal buttons of her jacket, a dark purple coat with the seal of Bacchuso—a chalice with grapevines on a violet field—over the left breast pocket. The emblem of Ænæria rested just below it. She wore matching trousers, ironed just for the occasion. It was embarrassing to need her own captain to dress her. Though that wasn’t all he was. Not anymore.
After he fastened the final button, Longinus drew Nico’s face down and kissed him. The two had been together ever since they returned from Kolpos. When they’d flown back from across the sea, Longinus had much time to think about her feelings. Her belly fluttered every time she passed Nico on the ship; the same sensation she had when they’d first kissed. Once they returned home, she realized she needed more out of life than to be her uncle’s puppet.
Few people had put together that the two of them were together. Their late nights together were easily explained away as meetings for military purposes. Nico had never stayed through the whole night. Enough of the Rhion were afraid of Longinus’s short temper to not question them.
That fear didn’t extend to her uncle. He wouldn’t hesitate to meddle with their relationship.
“Are you going to be okay tonight?” Nico asked. No one else would’ve asked her such a question. No one else knew the emotional abuse her uncle had subjected her to. It was nice finally having someone to confide all of her secrets in. He knew everything: the mistakes made by her father, the assault on her village—even her real name. It made her forget all her troubles when he whispered it into her ear.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “I’m not made for parties and politics. I’m meant to be out there, on the battlefield, leading our comrades and killing our enemies.”
“Then it has nothing to do with the king?”
“It has everything to do with him. He’s doing this to mess with me. Just like he always does.”
“You’re being a bit paranoid, don’t you think? It’s rather normal to throw a party after such a victory. That’s why they call it a celebration.”
“You don’t know him the way I do.”
Nico grumbled under his breath and sat at the foot of the Longinus’s bed. He patted the spot, inviting her to join him. She stood in front of the looking glass, examining herself. She looked intimidating in the dark suit and tall black boots. Her hair was put up in a knot and tied with an orange Ænærian band that reflected onto her pale blonde hair, making it look an even brighter gold. The bronze hand matched the uniform quite well, and for once, she was proud to be wearing it.
She sat next to Nico and looked to her feet, all but lost in her thoughts.
“You’re a great leader, and you know it. You’ve kept peace and order in the province that once resisted Ænæria for the longest time. You led an expedition to a new land, discovered and opened a Vault, and then colonized that land for our people. You’ve told me about so many other challenges that you’ve overcome in your life. This is just another of those challenges. You’ll show the king that you’ve more than made up for the mistake your father made of trusting that woman who led your village to its destruction.”
Longinus breathed heavily, the anxiety of dealing with her uncle in public nearly overwhelming her. She’d been on her own for so long that she’d allowed herself to feel comfortable. How foolish of her.
“I don’t know if I’ll overcome him. He holds so much power over me.”
“Does he though?” Nico contested. “You’ve opened up to me and nothing bad has happened. Maybe this power you think he holds over you is just an illusion forged by years of him being overly protective of you.”
She shot Nico a dirty look. “Overly protective? Is that what you think he is? My uncle is a monster, Nico. He doesn’t care about me being safe. If he did, then he’d have let me reveal myself after the Vänalleatian girl took up Fenwin’s mantle. It’s all about him having control over me, over the last thing remaining from his past. All he cares about now is power, and everything else is meaningless to him. Why do you think he became the king?”
Nico looked perplexed. “What do you mean? He was next in line after Rivers caught the wet lung in Svaldway.”
“Are you really that dense? My uncle killed Rivers. Ask anyone on the expedition back from Svaldway, and they’ll tell you that he didn’t so much as cough.”
“I know you have a lot of anger toward your uncle, but what you’re saying is treason.”
“Don’t you see? It’s only treason because he holds all the power! Just saying something he doesn’t like can be labeled as treason.”
“Speaking out against the king is treason. That’s what the word means.” Nico spoke softly, trying to soothe Longinus.
“It was treason to murder the rightful king. It’s treason to know about it and do nothing. Yet here we are. And we’re not the only ones who know either.”
“We shouldn’t be speaking of this. Especially if what you say is true. Someone could overhear us.”
“If anyone has been listening then they’d have turned me in to my uncle long ago after hearing us talk. No one dares to eavesdrop on me, you know that.”
Nico paused to consider this, scratching his chin and curling his lips. “Even so, we need to be careful with what we speak about. We don’t want to get too comfortable that we let something slip in the wrong place—and in front of the wrong ears.”
Longinus groaned. “I’ve gone my entire life keeping secrets. You think I’d really let something slip?”
“Well, you slipped up in front of me in the Vault.” He rubbed the back of his hand gently across her cheek.
Longinus blushed. She playfully smacked his hand away from where it rested on her cheek. “That was different! I was overwhelmed—I’d never seen something like that before! Besides, you’re the one who should worry about letting something slip. I can’t have you accidentally referring to me as ‘she’ or ‘her’ to anyone else. Eternal Mother, what if you say my actual name aloud to someone?”
Nico smirked and stood up from the bed, offering his hand to Longinus. “I have practice, too. Never let
anything slip about Cameron.”
I’ll give him that one, Longinus conceded in her mind. She accepted Nico’s hand and got to her feet. Even in her boots, he still stood half a head taller than she. He kissed her on the hand, sending an electric flutter throughout her body that made her never want to leave this room. She wanted to stay locked in it forever, away from everyone and everything that could do her harm.
But that wasn’t her. She wasn’t some little girl—hadn’t been for a very long time. She didn’t get to play princess or have a happily ever after like in the tales. She had to go down to the halls and entertain guests today so that she could wage war tomorrow with hope for the only realistic goal she could strive for: revenge against Limmetrad.
The entire Dion clan had arrived first, eyeing the estate with thirsty gazes at the home that had once been their own before Xander’s assault led to the demise of King Comus. The rest of his family had been spared—a similar mercy shown to the other Northern Kingdoms royal families save for Marzora with the north’s most powerful army. Lord Edwin and Lady Monika, both dark-haired and broad, built for the cold land of Bacchuso, made it a point to offer their gifts of rare seventh vintage Bacchusan red to King Randolph. They brought with them their four children, all raised during Xander’s war with their grandfather. Longinus never had a taste for children. She’d trained with so many Rhion in training below the age of ten that their innocence had been lost. Perhaps missing her own childhood played into it, too.
The other blazing nobles and diplomats were everywhere. Longinus couldn’t go another step without nearly tripping over one. Each one of them leeches trying to get a taste of the king’s favor. By the Sun, Longinus couldn’t stand them.
Lord Rufio Zula, son of former King Dante Zula of Apollin, sat in the great hall talking the ear off a Dianian diplomat trying to come up with some new trade deal, which ended with a bottle of 24th vintage Bacchusan red being spilled over the top of Rufio’s slicked-back hair. Lord Zula had been so insulted that he ordered the rest of his party to drop what they were doing and leave the feast. Nico couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath at the scene, and Longinus had to jab him with her bronze hand to remind him to behave.
Lord Florence Lao, brother to Mercurya’s late King Beyfon Lao, had been seen arguing with one of King Randolph’s personal guards in a miserable, failed attempt to get an audience for the king. Florence tried everything from attempts to sneak past the guards to knocking over a slave’s tray carrying dirty glasses, shattering them all over the floor. Longinus assumed he’d meant to use the scene as a distraction, and if so, he’d clearly underestimated the royal guards’ commitment. When he, at last, had enough of the fool’s behavior, her uncle banned him from the celebration and threatened to have him shocked by one of the newly acquired thunder staves if he caught him sneaking around again.
Ordinarily, the king was expected to welcome the attention of a nobleman. It was something Xander often did to keep the peace with those he’d conquered. King Randolph was doing exactly that, just not with Lord Lao. Mercurya was an important enough province, but it paled in comparison to the Juptora, whose noble had been already been conversing with King Randolph before Florences’s shenanigans started.
Lord Constantine Flavius, the only son of Juptura’s late King Gaius Flavius, was perhaps the second most powerful man in Ænæria behind King Randolph himself. Since Marzora no longer had a noble family, the Flavius clan was now the most influential.
Marzora had been the oldest of the Northern Kingdoms due to its immense wealth and military might. King Xander had known that Marzora would be a fitting place for the throne of Ænæria, and as the center of his kingdom’s power, Xander needed to rid any competition for power. He’d had Marzora’s entire royal Severus family hunted down and killed so none could claim Ignistad for themselves. That left the Flavius family of Juptora in a very powerful position. Many claimed it was their wealth that fueled Ænæria’s endless expeditions and wars.
It was no wonder that King Randolph didn’t want to be interrupted by someone like Florence Lao.
When the air had settled from the ruckus, and the conversation between the king and Lord Flavius concluded, Randolph stood up from his seat, the former throne of Bacchuso, and raised his glass. He needn’t even tap it to draw the room’s attention, for despite not being a large man, the king cast a large shadow. Everyone stopped what they were doing, and the hall deadened with silence, eyes drawn to their king.
“We are blessed by the Sun to have such esteemed guests with us here tonight,” the king proclaimed. He was actually wearing his crown, the platinum band decorated with fourteen jewels to represent the united Ænæria. “Though I have been to the province many times, I regret not making such an occasion of it until now. I suppose this must be the first time such a celebration has occurred since my predecessor graciously invited Bacchuso into the light of the Sun. I would first like to propose a toast to the noble Dion family for accepting us into their ancestral home and brokering the peace with the late King Xander.”
The room turned like a single unit to the Dions and raised its glasses with a cheer. Lord Edwin, seated at the edge of the high table by the throne, shifted uncomfortably in his seat, arms folded tightly beneath his black fur coat. His eldest son, a boy not older than sixteen, flaunted the opposite expression as his uneven stubbled chin lowered into a cocky grin. He’d been raised as royalty, used to his subjects showering him with praise. He’d probably been starving for this attention ever since Xander killed his grandfather.
“As many surely know, a new colony for Ænæria across the Shimmering Sea has been established, brought into the light of the Sun by your esteemed legate. Not only that, but the Eternal Mother Herself found Legate Longinus to be worthy of unlocking one of her own Vaults. New holy artifacts previously unthought of by man are now within our possession and will lead us to victory against the great evil invaders from the south.”
Locals and nobles alike turned toward Longinus at the head of the main table with applause. She gave a curt nod, then sipped some of the sweet red. She preferred her wines dry, but anything would do to remove the foul taste left in her mouth by the murderous glare she’d just received from Lord Edwin. They’d hardly interacted with one another since her posting here back in the Fire Moon, for she’d been far too busy training her Rhion and taking out rebels. Sure, she’d taken the Dion throne, but that was hardly of her own volition. The lord should be grateful he had her and not someone insatiable like Thatch, inept like Gatron, or mad like Fenwin.
As the clapping faded, eyes drifted back to Randolph. He grinned, dimples pressing in his newly shaved cheeks. The king had formed almost a full beard since his arrival in Bacchuso, and Longinus was glad to see her uncle had rid his face of all but the graying mustache. He’d worn it that way for as long as she could remember. Seeing a change had been disheartening. Seeing him with a platinum crown instead of his worn-out head was already strange enough. Longinus liked to think she’d her fair share of strange for a single lifetime.
“Dark times are coming,” the king exhaled. “Those who call this wondrous land their home may think yourselves spared from the war. How could you think differently? After all, we do outnumber them. We have more land and resources. The enemy is so far south; there are too few to possibly make it through Ænæria and across the narrow sea channels that separate this province from the continent. But we do not face a normal enemy. These are the people who took down the Sun’s Chosen—the very man who conquered all fourteen of the Northern Kingdoms. They do not play by the same rules of warfare to which you are accustomed. They fight with words and treachery. Spies lurk even in the faintest shadows, and with dark times come broader shadows.
“It is not the men and women to the south who make me worried for Bacchuso, for I do not think Bacchuso will still stand if we do not face the enemy even farther north. The land by the Northern Pole—Svaldway they call it—is teeming with their strongest fighters and most pow
erful weapons within the Grand Vault. Surely you have heard tales of its legacy; King Xander made it well known he needed Bacchuso as a steppingstone toward the legendary place of power. We must make use of our newfound weapons before the enemy acquires even more of their own. There are dozens of Vaults across the wastes of this world. It is with their treachery that they’ve corrupted someone with the ability to access these chambers. If we do not make haste, they will lay waste to our lands. We must venture forth to Svaldway and destroy the Grand Vault. Without it, they will never hope to defeat us.”
Nico scratched above his brow; his eyes were wide with shock. Scores of eyes illuminated much the same, none expecting so bold a statement from the king. The locals lost their king to his successor, and he himself died invading Svaldway. As her uncle had said, Xander was obsessed with Bacchuso not just to claim the final kingdom of the realm, but for a closer port to a faraway land. Svaldway meant nothing but trouble for these people.
Longinus’s shock lay with something different altogether. They were going to destroy the Grand Vault? Was it not the greatest place of power for the Eternal Mother? Even if Limmetrad had corrupted it, how did one going about destroying something of such power?
Randolph turned his attention back toward Longinus, as if he could read what she was thinking. But no. His eyes weren’t on her.
“Captain, I understand you know how to operate the machines found on the legate’s expedition across the sea.”
The tanks and flying machine were mighty weapons but surely, they could not be enough. The Grand Vault took up an entire mountain.
The Heir of Ænæria Page 34
