Chapter Two
"Sire?"
Tiberius sat against the far wall of the grand curia in a large marble-carved seat that overlooked the stately room. Outside, the sounds of a riotous crowd echoed up through the alabaster windows and into the quiet, nearly empty chamber.
"Sire?" Lycania's chief advisor, Lucan, repeated his query a second time to the Emperor but received only a continuing silence as his reply.
The advisor, short balding and overweight with a perpetually guilty-looking pair of eyes that constantly darted around the room, nervously cleared his throat and cast a desperate glance towards Timonus at the Emperor's silence. The Legate, in turn, inhaled sharply but remained hushed in a vain attempt to tamp down the turmoil he felt within himself over their current predicament.
The sound of the crowd outside, made up of the inhabitants of Odalia's poorest area known as the Ala District, suddenly swelled into an overwhelming cacophony of discontentment. The people were demanding answers over the mysterious death of their court representative, Lord Heron, as well as those of his family - for the White Palace had given them none.
Lucan asked for the third time, "Sire? Did you hear what I said?"
Tiberius stared, unblinking, at a spot upon the colorful blue and scarlet mosaic floor before him as he twisted Lady Catherine's ring between his forefinger and thumb. "Yes," he answered, then in an exasperated mocking tone added, "‘the people in Feronia are starving.'" He glanced at Lucan, "And if you say 'sire' one more time, I'll have your tongue pulled out from your head and fed to my pigs."
The advisor, slightly flustered by the Emperor's sentiments, continued, "Eh, uh, yes, well, Your Highness, there has been evidence of a root blight-"
Tiberius shrugged, gesturing to his Legate, "Well, that's very simple then: Timonus, you go to the Eastern Shore, seek out one of the veneficas and take her to Feronia to investigate this 'root blight'. It is my suspicion that we've been poisoned by outside forces-"
"My liege," Timonus face flushed as he struggled to speak rationally despite the panic that was rising up within, "there is unease in the Empire at the moment," his eyes flickered in the direction of the crowd, "I really can't be-"
"Do you think I do not know that?" The Emperor stood abruptly and stalked towards his Second-in-command, "Two weeks Lord Heron's blood has stained my roof, two weeks!" He frowned, adding as an aside, "And I've tried everything to get it off."
Tiberius then wandered over to the windows, deep in thought. He examined the pattern within it and began to trace it with the finger of the hand that still held Lady Catherine's ring. He stopped after awhile, then pressed his ear against the alabaster and listened for a moment, "Do you hear them... out there... chanting my name?" He screwed his face up as he spoke sardonically, "They love me, don't they? Even now they cheer for me." He started to laugh, then stopped as his face fell immediately into a scowl, "I don't understand these fools." He rubbed his temples and squeezed his eyes shut tightly, "My head hurts."
"Eh, yes, well, you have to understand, they saw Lord Heron as a kind and innocent man," Lucan spoke up.
"Innocent?" Tiberius turned from the window and eyed his advisor. "His whore-daughter of a traitor stood right here before me in this very spot," his fist raised as it closed around her ring, "with a bastard half-Bestial growing in her belly! In my court!" He seethed, "How is he innocent? He spawned nothing but traitors and law-breakers. Traitors, might I remind you, my good Lucan, who claimed to be from Thera - a land that doesn't even exist!" Tiberius eyes glowed with an eerie light.
Lucan spoke carefully, his fingers forming a steeple as he did, "Sire, I mean, Your Highness, my apologies, but whether they are right or whether they are wrong, they are angry. And, in the last weeks, we have become very nearly prisoners here in the White Palace because of that anger. Most of your other advisors and members of court have all returned to their homelands, afraid of the... atmosphere... that has currently settled upon Odalia's streets. Even as we speak, the Legate's legionaries have been putting down riots in the Ala District-"
"They are worthless." Tiberius glanced at Timonus as he paced with his hands behind his back, "I wish you'd massacre the whole lot of them. I should've never given him charge over a district in Odalia, the lying scum."
Lucan gently chided, "Yes, well, but they do out number us by quite a bit-"
"It matters not - a simple flick of the wrist and they will love me again."
"How, may I ask?" Lucan put forth.
Tiberius smile was unsettling, "We hold a gladiatorial munus."
The long-suffering Timonus could no longer hide his agitation, "A munus, Your Majesty? Celebrating what, precisely?"
His face lit up in eagerness, "Why, Lord Heron, of course!"
The other two men in the room fell into an apprehensive silence as the Emperor continued, gesturing wildly with his hands as he spoke, "We remove the heads from Lord Heron's dead traitor family and set them all on pikes, which we'll then put around the circuit of the Amphitheater."
"To what purpose?" Lucan asked, confused.
"To remind everyone in the Ala District what happens to traitors should they wish to continue in their treacherous ways."
"I doubt very much that will cause them to love you, Your Highness."
"Yes, well, forget about love, then!" he snapped. "Besides," he then began to grin slowly, "who wants love when you can have fear?" The light in the Emperor's eyes grew stranger.
"Sire," Timonus ignored the voice in his head telling him to stop speaking, "this is madness."
"Oh no, not madness, my dear Legate - just self-preservation. For too long those Bestial pests in the Ala District have leached from Lycania. And, it's true, Lucan, they do outnumber us because they continuously breed and multiply like animals but we have the power and the ammunition to suppress even the most violent uprising."
Timonus stepped forward, shocked by the monarch's words, "Sire, you would murder your own people?"
"Those... things... out there are not my 'own people.' Their deaths will not affect the Empire one way or another."
Timonus grew bolder with his anger, "I will not be a part of any massacre that-"
"You will do as I command or you will die with them." Tiberius stalked closer to the Legate, "Or is that what you wish? To leave your wife a widow and your sons fatherless?"
Timonus eyes fell to the ground, defeated before he'd even begun to fight, "No, sire, no it is not."
"Good, then. Whatever may happen in the next while, you will do as I command and take the venefica with you to Feronia. Meanwhile, Lucan, you get with that worthless Vandal at the Amphitheater and arrange the grandest munus of all time! Food, wine, song - I want it to flow for everyone! We will honor the great Lord Heron and, by the end of the day, they will either praise my name or be too afraid to speak it!" He sat back down upon the great chair and began to roll the ring between his fingers again as an otherworldly smile spread across his face.
Timonus nodded, adding, "Thank you, my liege," before leaving the curia. His panic unabated, his thoughts became a race against his feet as he quickly walked the path back to his quarters.
His servant, Jason, met him at the door to his room. The adolescent's eyes were fearful as he asked, "How goes the Empire?"
The Legate forced a smile, not wanting to further alarm the boy, "It goes as it always has. This moment will pass and all will be well. For now, bring me some vellum and pen and ink. I wish to write to my wife."
Jason disappeared as Timonus sat himself down at the small writing desk before the fireplace that heated the cramped quarters. He had never felt so much unease in his life, not even on the battlefield, and he was very unsure of what the future held as the tension rose in the Ala District. The only thing that he was sure of was that he wanted his family protected from whatever was brewing over the coming weeks.
Within a few moments, Jason had returned with the aforementioned writing supplies and handed them to his master. Timonus i
nformed the young man that he wanted him to pack quickly as he had an important duty for him to fulfill. Jason, sensing what was going to be asked of him, heaved a gargantuan sigh of relief as he left the room.
Timonus gathered his thoughts, then dipped the copper nib of his pen into the dark ink and began to write upon the yellowed vellum in his elegant script, "My love, my life - I know not what the current tide of unrest will bring upon Lycania and our family. The Emperor has requested that I ride to Feronia to inspect the root blight that seems to have destroyed a great many of their crops. I know not how long my task will keep me away from hearth and home and, as I will not be around to protect you and the boys, I have asked Jason to escort you three to our homeland of Caninia. Remain there until you see me again but in case you do not and these are my final words, know that I love you, and our children, with all of my heart. Please raise our sons to be strong fighters for Lycania, for I love her and the Mother Wolf almost as much as you. Your husband, M. Timonus Canus"
He rolled the parchment into a scroll and then sealed it by pressing his family ring into a dollop of melted wax, leaving behind the image of hound. He then handed it to Jason and ordered him to go immediately to his home, which was located within the walls of the city, and escort his family away from Odalia and the White Palace as soon as was possible.
After making sure that the young servant was safely away, a relieved but weary Timonus removed his armor and laid it atop his nearby bed. He stared at the shiny metal sections before him and wondered what his life would have been like had he never donned them all those years ago. He had been so young, in retrospect. So young but so willing to die for the country that he so loved dearly.
Timonus' thoughts drifted to the Emperor, the man and friend that he had served for the last decade, who was growing more and more outlandish in his demands by the day. Timonus wondered briefly if he should continue to serve him, knowing that innocent men, women and children were dying on a nearly daily basis.
But, what choice did he have? He would never be able to dissuade the Emperor, nor would he be left alive if he even dared make an attempt. How would his family survive if he were not there to protect them? Timonus brushed his fingers across the feathers of the helm that marked him as Legate of Lycania. No, he would never abandon his post, not only for the safety of his family, but also for the fear that someone very different from he, someone without a conscience, would replace him. He couldn't do that to the country, or the people, that he served.
Clad only in his tunic, Timonus walked over to the hearth to warm his legs, the fire within it burning golden in the small room. He held his hands out to the flames and lifted his eyes towards the prayer statue that rested upon the small mantle above. It was of the Mother Wolf giving succor to the Two Brothers.
Timonus reached up and touched it gingerly, closing his eyes as he did. He had never felt such confusion, such guilt, in his lifetime. He felt as if he had been cast adrift into the ocean, alone, with no way to return to the safety and security of the shore.
He slowly knelt before the Mother Wolf and clasped his hands together, something he had not done since he was a child. They began to shake slightly as he prayed, “Dear Mother, who guides her children, what is it that I must do?" His eyes searched the statue's lupine features, "I have served you and my Emperor well... but the things he asks of me now..." Timonus swallowed deeply, "I... I don't know which path to take. If I no longer follow my Emperor, am I not betraying my country and Your Grace?" He shook his head, "But what of her people? And the innocents that have already been slain?" He grimaced and fell forward onto his palms while a new wave of shame washed over him as the memories of Lord Heron's lifeless body being removed from the palace under the cover of darkness filled his mind.
His chest began to constrict as he confessed from the deepest parts of his soul, "He was an innocent man." Timonus lowered his forehead to the floor, his lips nearly brushing against the cold tiled floor as he continued to speak, "...an innocent man and I let him die... He did nothing wrong and I-I walked away... I left him there, even when I knew that death was awaiting him!" He lifted his head and looked up towards the statue, tears and desperation shining in his eyes, "I did nothing! I... I was too afraid! Dear Mother, what must I do now to absolve myself of these sins? How do I right these wrongs? How do I get that face, so full of hope for his daughter's return, out of my mind? Please... Dear Lady... answer me in my time of need. Please..." He stayed upon his knees for a little while longer, hunched over in benediction, even as the only reply he received was silence.
Timonus was unsure of how long he had knelt there when a knock had come upon his door. He stood quickly and rinsed his hands and face in the nearby washbasin and as he patted them dry with a cloth, he temporarily wiped away any evidence of his previous anguish.
Timonus then opened the door and was surprised to see that it was Lucan standing before him.
"May I enter?" the nervous man asked.
The Legate glowered for a brief moment before relenting, "Yes, come in." He shut the door behind the Advisor.
Lucan's balding gray head shone in the low firelight, "I came here at the behest of several others."
"Yes, and you were probably followed."
The man's normally tiny eyes widened as he looked around the room in terror, "I... I never thought-"
Timonus was short with him, "It doesn't matter now. What do you want?"
"It isn't just me. As I said, I've come at the behest of several others who fear our Emperor is no longer able to rule-"
Timonus shook his head angrily, quickly cutting off anything else that the other man had to say, "How dare you come here! You know that I cannot speak against-"
"Yes, yes, I do know, which is why I don't want you to speak. I only want you to listen." Lucan steepled his fingers again as he had done earlier in the curia when he stood before the Emperor, "As you well know, I have served His Majesty for just as long as you and-and I, too, like you, have served his father." He bit his lip nervously, then continued, "But, the Peacebringer, he was very different from Tiberius. The Peacebringer, while ambitious and self-serving, also knew that it was only by the will of the people that he and his family were allowed to remain on the throne."
Timonus kept silent.
Lucan continued, "So, he knew to keep the people fed, clothed and working. If he did that, the people would leave him to do as he pleased. But, Tiberius," he shook his head, "he isn't like his father and though he won't acknowledge it, the will of the people has changed. And it isn't just the Ala District, the fervor is spreading throughout all of Odalia and soon our very lives are going to be at risk of being caught up in the violence as well!" Lucan wiped his sweating forehead, "I-I know that you cannot say anything, Legate, but I also know that you sense it as I do. As we all do!" He met the Legate's eyes, "Something must be done!"
Timonus still did not speak.
Lucan persevered, despite being decidedly uncomfortable with the Legate's continued silence, "Look, I am not asking you to do anything at the moment. It's too early and a misstep now would cause our immediate demise by the Emperor's own hand." He shook his head at the thought, "No, no. You do what you must for now, Legate. Go to Feronia with the venefica but when you return, Odalia, and thus, Lycania, may be a very different place from the one you know now. If such a thing should occur, those that have sent me wish to know if we would be able to count you among our numbers?"
The Legate's gaze moved towards the statue of the Mother Wolf on the mantle just past Lucan's shoulder. Could he risk his life to betray that which he loved the most? Would he be strong enough? Should he?
In answer to the Advisor's question, as well as his own, Timonus, ever so slowly and almost imperceptibly, nodded his head in agreement.