Chapter 2
Rommus sat on the rock that he and Mirra called theirs. He always arrived before her, and sometimes she never showed up at all. He didn't mind the waiting though, not under the bright sun in the clear Medoran sky. When he was alone like this, it always seemed the world moved slower, as if the gods were not quite finished painting the world, but were in no hurry to finish it. Rommus loved that painting in all its colors; from the icy blue and purple world under the moon to the deep blue waters lapping at the cliffs beneath him. He leaned back and let the sun hit his face. In only a month or so, the seasons would shift and the sun would not burn with such fury.
Rommus lived for days like this, but he kept the real reason a secret. The bright colors reminded him of when he was younger and times were simpler. A time where hope still shined brilliantly at his horizon, guiding him to some great unknown destiny. His life he felt had become a stark contrast to that vision. His dreams were now gone. Nothing ever worked out the way he intended. He had done well in the Medoran army, serving as a Captain in the Moon Legion for several years, and after his service he continued to work for them making weapons and armor for two more years. This would be considered noble and patriotic, except that his father was Tannis Tirinius, Commanding General of all seven Legions. His father never judged him harshly for leaving the army, but he could see the disappointment in his eyes. He could also see people turn and whisper whenever he passed, keeping to the shadows to spread their little rumors and lies.
No, that was not the life he wanted, but what frustrated him most was that he had no idea where he wanted to end up, or what path to take to get there. He had always thought that he would end up doing something great, something to change the world, but here he was just sitting on a rock waiting on a girl who might not really care for him at all.
But for the time being, he could lose himself in the Medoran summer. The gods-if they even existed?were at least willing to let him have a few moments in the sun before they kicked his legs out from under him again, granting him a little peace to dull his overwhelming sorrows for a while. He closed his eyes and smiled, not at some happy thought, but at the absurdity of his life.
"Excuse me, sir?"
Rommus jumped and shook his head at himself for not being alert enough to fend off some would-be attacker. He looked to his right where the voice had come from, and his breath caught in his throat. Beside him stood a woman of such stunning beauty that he was unable to remember even his name. He hoped she wasn't in a hurry to ask what it was.
"Sorry, I must have dozed off. Can I help you?"
"I hope so. I am on my way to Brinn. Is that it up there?" She was pointing at the shining city up the road, but he couldn't take his eyes from her face, her deep blue eyes, her long blonde hair. Her sharp jaw line caught the sunlight in such a way that it made him unable to think straight.
After an uncomfortable silence, she asked "Have you never spoken to a woman before?" adding a smile to tease him a little.
"Of course I have." He shook his head again and scratched at his arm that didn't even itch. "Yes that's Brinn."
"Beautiful, huh?" She was still smiling and he caught her sarcasm.
"You mean the city? Yes it is beautiful. Almost every block is pure white marble you know. But that road is a dangerous place for a lady to be walking alone. Would you like me to take you there?"
"No, thank you," she said as she waved her hand dismissively. "I think I can manage."
He could see she carried a small dagger at her belt so maybe she wasn't as defenseless as some other women. He sat there, not knowing what to say next, not wanting to sound like some fool.
"You aren't from around here I guess?" He caught himself too late; even a fool would know that anyone from Medora would know Brinn if they saw it.
"No, I am from Vindyrion. My name is Alana Irith. I don't mean to be rude but I am in a bit of a hurry and I can't stay here and chat with handsome men all day."
With the smile never leaving her face, she turned and was off to Brinn. He watched her walk into the distance with a swaying grace that was so captivating that he forgot everything else; even the salty sea breeze and the trees dancing to its quiet song.
He felt a small stab of guilt as he remembered Mirra. Mirra was beautiful, but this Vindyri made her seem so plain. He wondered what this Alana was like. He wondered if she would show up when she was supposed to meet someone at a certain rock by a certain sea. The hot rains of irritation fell within him as he shook his head. She had done this to him so many times. He felt as if she cared less for him with each passing day, and somehow he took up her slack and cared for her more. He turned his face up to the sun once more, took a deep breath, and jumped down off the rock.
He took the road back to Brinn with no exact destination in mind. Mirra deserved to be left there alone at the rock, but he would pass her on the road if she was on her way anyway. He cared so much for her, but she was always so caught up in anything but him. She seemed to need to be persuaded to keep an interest in him, and the game was getting old. Like everything else in his life, things with her looked dismal and unpromising. But regardless of the pains she had put him through, he focused all of his efforts on her. He did so not only because he wanted things to work, but also to take his mind off of the other things that were slowly spiraling into that dark pit in his soul that eventually spat him out into the world of the dead anyway. What did any of it matter?
He walked the rest of the way to Brinn lost in his dreary thoughts, casually picking up rocks and throwing them at the trees as he passed them. He walked slowly in case the Vindyri saw him coming and thought he was following her. The thought of her chased his gloom away for a few sporadic moments, but he always arrived back at that wall in his mind that kept his life stagnant; the fruits of his labors not sweet but rotting. Why couldn't those fruits ferment into wine? Not that he cared for the drink anyway, but the symbolism moved him.
While bending over for another rock, he missed the man stepping into the road in front of him. He was several paces ahead, but he clearly made himself visible and also made it clear that he would not allow Rommus to pass. Rommus tossed the rock aside. A cold feeling of panic welled up in his stomach. Most men would call it fear, but Rommus actually welcomed the feeling. He felt powerful when he could call upon that feeling and do damage to others who deserved it.
The man said nothing from under his black hooded cloak, but stood his ground.
Rommus decided to break the silence if this man refused to. "I thought only Mages wore black, but you wear the boots of a soldier."
"Are you of the bloodline Tirinius?" the man asked in a deep, raspy voice.
"What of it? And just who are you?"
Instead of a reply Rommus felt a terrible pain on the top of his skull; a pain so sharp that he thought he could taste it. Before he realized it, he was on the ground. He could see the feet of the man behind him who had apparently hit him with the pommel of his sword.
"He is not to be harmed!" the first man yelled in his deep voice.
Rommus looked up to see the second man wiping his forearm across his mouth like some animal wiping blood from its jaws after a kill. Confused, he staggered to his feet. Being on the ground was a disadvantage, and he was already outnumbered. He looked the first man in the eyes and saw them dart over his shoulder. He quickly turned and caught the other man by the wrist as he closed in with his attack. Rommus threw him into his cohort using his own momentum causing both men to stumble and fall.
"If you know my name, then you know the Emperor and my father will have you put to death for this! Leave now before you have more trouble than you can handle."
The men got to their feet with their swords drawn. These were Medoran swords, held by Medoran soldiers. This wasn't making sense. One of the men lunged and thrust his weapon at Rommus's middle. He jumped back and struck the man's hand when he was off balance, causing him to drop his sword. Rommus quickly stepped on it as the man tried to pick it up by the blade, c
utting his fingers badly. The man screamed. Rommus punched the man while he was bent over, sending him rolling off the side of the road.
The other man came charging in too fast for Rommus to pick up the sword himself. He remembered the man saying that no harm was to come to him, so he wasn't as worried about getting stabbed as he might have been otherwise. He fell to the side as the man came at him, tripping him up and causing him to fall again. When the man tried to get up, Rommus brought down a powerful blow to the man's nose. Finally Rommus picked up the sword and placed the point quite roughly under his chin.
"Who sent you? Who are you?" he asked as he checked the position of the man on the side of the road. "Don't you know I was a Captain? I should kill you for this. Now answer me!"
The man just glared in silence, blood running down over his mouth and dripping from his chin. Rommus made the mistake of focusing on this man and the other man came at him again. But to his surprise, as he jumped back, both men seemed to lose their nerve and ran away; kicking pebbles up behind them as they ran like scolded children.
Rommus let them go. He didn't want to have to explain two dead men to his father or the Emperor. He knew that the rest of Medora would think him a murderer and since he was Rommus Tirinius, he could get away with it. He would tell his father, but he would let these men go.
He watched them go a long way before he continued on his way to Brinn. He reached up and felt where he was hit with the sword and he felt blood. He reprimanded himself for not being more alert. He wondered about this whole incident as he walked, but he couldn't make sense of it. Those two men wore black cloaks, but they were soldiers. He supposed there was no law that Mages couldn't be soldiers, and truthfully, no one knew much about them. Perhaps they weren't soldiers at all, since they seemed too clumsy to have had any real training. Not only that, but they also ran away. What kind of soldier of Medora, the most powerful nation in the world, runs away? And why would they risk harming him when they knew who he was?
He arrived at the Temple of the Gods at the edge of the city just as the mists of dusk began to fall upon the land. He looked up in awe of the gigantic building just like he did every time he passed it since he was a little boy. The great marble columns were so thick that not even ten men could reach around them and touch hands. This building was the tallest in the city, but it was at its lowest point, so the great capital of Medora seemed to loom over it as it rose slowly up onto the mountains.
"It's the same as it was the last time you saw it," came a voice behind him.
"Pirius, where have you been? I came to the Emperor's Hall hours ago and your servants told me you were missing."
"Yes I have been here, watching Ehlom carve the new statues for the temple. They are much better than the ones before. You can see muscles and bones, little folds of skin and fat. They look so real. It's like the things might step off their pedestals and take over the city. The clanging of hammer on chisel is rather annoying though."
"Ehlom Nagelic is here in Brinn? He's the one who painted all the frescoes at the Temple of Arius if I remember right. I thought he never let anyone see him working. Isn't that what all these giant curtains are for?"
"Yes," said Pirius as he ran his hand over one of the red curtains, "but do you think he'd say no to the son of the Emperor?"
Rommus laughed. "He might be afraid of your brother, but not you Pirius."
Pirius smiled and clasped his hands behind his back. "By the way, what happened to your head?"
"Oh, I was attacked on the road here. I can't make any sense of it, but I'll see if my father has any ideas."
"Attacked?" Pirius's eyebrows knotted together in concern. "What do you mean attacked? By who?"
"Never mind all that. I'm fine. I was a soldier not so long ago if you remember. Besides I think you'd rather hear the story of the woman I met today."
Pirius laughed. "Rommus you wouldn't go off meeting girls with that Mirra Odera dancing behind your eyes. I can see her in there right now, twirling around and stepping clumsily all over your heart."
Rommus smiled. "So the son of the Emperor thinks he's amusing now. For your information, I didn't 'go off meeting' anyone, she just asked for directions. But she was like no other woman I have ever seen. She was from Vindyrion. You would have loved her."
Pirius paused and listened to Ehlom's banging coming from behind the curtain, twisting his face in annoyance with the sound. "I have had my share of Vindyri women, and they are all crazy, let me tell you. Come, let's go in and look at these statues so that Ehlom will stop all that racket."
Pirius lifted one of the heavy curtains aside and the tapping of metal on metal grew even louder and pierced the air almost painfully. Inside the temple was a colossal mess of marble chips and blocks of all sizes, all covered with a thick layer of white dust. Footprints in the fine powder reminded Rommus of the frozen snows of winter. He was amazed that the artist was allowed to create such a mess inside this most sacred of Medoran temples. The only things the dust didn't seem to cling to were the tall columns inside the temple, made of polished red stone, and capped with golden capitals. Everything else, including all the other gold accents, was a filthy, grimy disaster.
"What have I told you, hundreds of times?" Ehlom shouted as his chiseling ceased. "Get out of here!"
Rommus raised his eyebrows and smiled at Pirius. "End the clanging and exchange it for yelling, huh?"
"I told you no one else can come in here with you. Go away!" he yelled again as he threw his chisel in their direction.
Rommus forgot all about the chisel when he looked up at the enormous statue Ehlom was working on. The massive form was obviously far from complete, but he could see the elaborate scrollwork on the armor of the figure as it struggled to free itself from the stone. The striking posture seemed impossible, even intimidating. It was almost alive; it was like nothing he had ever seen before.
"That's Arius, god of war," Rommus managed to say, dumbfounded.
"So the brute knows his gods," Ehlom mocked as his bony frame shook with rage, "Why don't you go to some other temple and pray to him. This one is off limits." The man turned from them and ran his hand over his dusty giant, checking for flaws.
"It's so much bigger than I thought it would be. It must be the height of three men. Is that Oderion?" he asked as he pointed at the bearded figure in the center of the room. "And that one Inshae?"
"Again the boy gets a prize for his knowledge of the gods," said Ehlom as he patted the marble dust from his long black beard. "Perhaps you'd like to take your prize home right now." He picked up a large marble chip and made ready to throw it at his audience.
"Where are the other gods of light? Why didn't you do all three first?"
Ehlom stopped and stared at Rommus. "Because I don't want to offend the gods of darkness. I carved Oderion first because he created us and all the other gods, then Inshae, god of death, and head of the Dark Three. Then Arius, a god of light. I will do them in that pattern so that I do not offend any of the seven gods. Now if you don't mind!"
He pointed to the curtain, meaning for them to go. Rommus turned to see Pirius peering out into the blue dusk. A large marble chip hit the curtain with a dull thud and clattered to the floor. Pirius ignored it and left the temple with urgency. Rommus followed.
Outside soldiers were running in the streets, some barking orders, some pushing men and women aside to get through. Their bright armor shone a light blue in the failing light. Their crimson capes unfurled behind them as they all ran toward the center of the city. One spotted Pirius and ordered his men to guard him.
"What is happening?" Pirius said with a seriousness rarely witnessed. "Where is everyone going?"
One of the soldiers glanced at Rommus, then back to Pirius. "There is an assassin in the city. General Tirinius has been stabbed."
Rommus felt another cold panic in his stomach, but this time, it was not a welcome feeling.