“AS YOU CAN SEE, CONQUERING THE LANDS WHERE THEsix rivers join will be of prime importance,” Lucius Marius announced. He pointed to the large azure battle map floating in the air. “Butkeeping these lands while the gold is being extracted is even more vital. It is widely rumored that the Shashidan mines are inexhaustible.” Pausing for a moment, he smiled and turned to look at the Suffragat.
“If we are lucky,” he added slyly, “we will learn whether the legend is true.”
As Vespasian sat in his throne before the entire Suffragat, he cast a quick glance at Persephone. The empress was seated in her usual place, and she looked splendid in a beautiful blue gown. Blood-red ruby earrings adorned her earlobes, and a matching necklace lay around her neck.
Persephone gave her husband a welcome look of support. Vespasian’s recent night terror had shaken him, she knew. Even so, he had skillfully controlled every nuance of the session.
After Vespasian had finally awakened from his terrors, he and Persephone had talked for hours. He described his dream to her in great detail. As she listened, Persephone grew more worried about him. When she asked him who the unknown boy had been, he could not answer. In the twisting maze that had been his dream, Vespasian was certain of only one thing-this latest reverie had been far more real than any of those before it.
At Persephone’s suggestion, Vespasian had reluctantly trumped up some charges against the imperial guards who had rushed into their rooms that night. He accused them of being members of the League of Whispers, saying that they had broken down the door and tried to assassinate him and Persephone. He had considered killing them on the spot, Vespasian added, but he wanted the public to witness the traitors’ executions.
His orders were carried out the following dawn. The bewildered guards had gone to the gallows loudly protesting their innocence. It had been all that the guilt-ridden emperor could do to keep from commuting their sentences at the last moment. He knew these men, and they had served him well. But the stakes were too high, so the executions went forward. With the guards dead, his secret was safe.
During his youth, Vespasian’s dreams had always been florid and often frightening, sometimes so much so that he had once confided to Gracchus about them. But none of those earlier episodes had been as alarmingly violent as this most recent one. The lead cleric had told his young student that his dreams were caused by the highly unusual strength of his endowed blood. As Vespasian grew older, the dreams would slow, then stop altogether, Gracchus had said. And until last night, they had.
Even so, something about this latest terror told Vespasian that no one other than Persephone should know of it. Not even his best friend Lucius would be told. It was vitally important that he continue to display the leadership and strength that had always characterized his reign-especially when Rustannica would soon launch her greatest campaign.
The Suffragat had been in session for the last three hours. ThePon Q’tar, the Priory of Virtue, and the Imperial Order centurions had come to learn about and vote on the war plan to take the Shashidan gold mines. Because the session was highly secret, no skeens were present.
The war strategy was everything that Vespasian had hoped for. Taking the mines would produce greater stability at home and ensure the empire’s continued ability to wage war. Conversely, it would drastically curtail Shashida’s defensive capabilities and limit her power to supply the domestic needs of her people. The tables would be turned. And if the mines could be held indefinitely, an eventual Rustannican victory in the War of Attrition would be nearly assured.
The intricate plan that Gracchus, Julia, Persephone, Vespasian, and Lucius had finally agreed on had not come easily. Intense bickering had persisted for days while Vespasian steadfastly settled one dispute after another. It came as no surprise that most of the disagreements arose between Gracchus and Lucius. The military and thePon Q’tar had struggled for dominance since the empire’s earliest days, and little about that rivalry had changed.
The attack on the Shashidan mines would be Vespasian’s fourth campaign as emperor. His earlier crusades had been aggressive but far from decisive. During those struggles he had learned that the military and the mystical wings of the Rustannican war machine badly needed each other, whether they wanted to admit it or not. Without the legions, even the vauntedPon Q’tar was of limited usefulness, because they were relatively few in number. Conversely, the military desperately needed advanced forms of magic to help win its battles.
Vespasian knew that once the campaign started, the military and thePon Q’tar would likely snap at each other like the vicious dogs in his recent night terror. Once again, this would be especially true of Gracchus and Lucius. Because he was First Tribune, Lucius was also a trained mystic of notable power. Lucius mistrusted most mystics who were not military personnel, and he saw Gracchus as a particularly grasping and manipulative cleric. Gracchus thought Lucius to be a hedonistic upstart who owed his quick rise to a close friendship with the emperor. Vespasian knew that each of his headstrong servants was at least partly right. But during times of war there were no two allies that he would rather have by his side.
As he thought about the campaign, Vespasian felt the pressure to succeed crowding in on him again. It would be his responsibility to keep the peace among his forces while making war on the enemy. That was why he had demanded the right to unilaterally change any aspect of the battle plan once his forces were afield. In the end, the burden of victory would be his alone. As the days progressed it weighed ever more heavily across his shoulders.
He again regarded the azure battle map. Lucius was still speaking-overstating, as expected, the military’s importance to the plan. Never to be upstaged, Gracchus would surely ask for equal time to emphasize the critical role of thePon Q’tar. Beneath the map hovered hundreds of script-laden columns that detailed the attack and listed the vast hordes of legionnaires and the huge amounts of war materiel that would soon be needed. The requirements were staggering.
Save for a few legions left behind to keep order in Ellistium, all the empire’s land forces would attack Shashida in a huge thrusting movement and take the mines. While the legions advanced, great barges would cruise down the six majestic rivers that stabbed deep across the Borderlands and into Shashidan territory. The legions would ruthlessly take one Shashidan riverside town after another and secure the surrounding territories. According to Vespasian’s intelligence, the precious mines lay farther south, where all six waterways joined to form one torrential force of nature called the Alarik River. It would be there that Vespasian’s legions would stop, at least for a time.
Once all six rivers were secured, the gold would eventually be sailed to Ellistium on legion cargo vessels. But before he could allow that, Vespasian needed every Shashidan town along the twelve riverbanks to be firmly under Rustannican control. This would ensure that the mines stayed in Rustannican hands while the cargo vessels spirited the gold to Ellistium.
Special groups of legionnaires trained in mining and engineering would bear the responsibility of taking the purloined gold from the ground. Shashidan miners who survived the attack would become Rustannican slaves and be forced to help supply their enemies with their own gold. Those who refused would be killed. It was a brazen, complicated plan that would need precise timing. If it worked, Shashida would be weakened and Rustannica strengthened beyond all precedent. But if it failed, all of Rustannica might go crashing down to final defeat. With her treasury nearly empty, she would never again be able to mount such a massive campaign.
Vespasian returned his attention to Lucius’ presentation. The vote had already been taken and the battle plan overwhelmingly approved. Therefore, Gracchus’ previous suggestion to take another vote to quash the entire concept proved unneeded. Then Lucius had asked Vespasian for some extra floor time to make several additional points on the military’s behalf. As Lucius’ self-aggrandizing talk progressed, Vespasian smiled. He knew that he badly needed Gracchus. But Lucius was his closest friend and had always been a greater confidant than his mentor in the craft. They’re such an odd but effective pair of allies, he found himself thinking.
Vespasian then regarded thePon Q’tar as a whole. As they listened to Lucius’ specious talk, many of the imperious clerics were wriggling uncomfortably like a mess of trapped eels. Vespasian soon found himself wondering whether any of them had done one day’s worth of manual labor in their entire lives. One never finds dirt under a Pon Q’tarcleric’s fingernails, he thought.
Lucius soon finished his talk. After bowing to his emperor, he took his customary seat beside the empress. Wishing to regain control of the proceedings, Vespasian lifted his gold scepter from its nearby holder and banged it against the floor.
Before Vespasian could speak, Gracchus stood. Vespasian noticed that the cleric held a gold diptych in his hands. The emperor’s eyes narrowed. The Oraculum, he realized.
“With all due respect to the emperor, I wish to approach,” Gracchus said.
Vespasian beckoned the lead cleric forward. Gracchus neared and handed the gold diptych to Vespasian. As Vespasian broke the red seal and read the beeswax pages, a wide smile spread across his face. Puzzled, the Suffragat waited in silence.
“Can this be true after all these years?” Vespasian asked of Gracchus. “As you know, I too am familiar with the legend.”
Gracchus nodded. “The Oraculum dares not lie,” he answered. “She knows that her life is in my hands.”
Vespasian was overjoyed. TheJin’Sai would be suddenly preoccupied just as the Rustannican siege of Shashida went forth. It was a huge stroke of luck. He smiled at Gracchus.
“I suggest that you explain the Oraculum’s latest vision to everyone,” he said. “It is news worthy of this fine session.”
Gripping the shoulder folds of his robe, Gracchus turned to face the Suffragat.
“The Oraculum brings excellent news,” he announced. “Our prayers to find a way to continue our fight with theJin’Sai on his side of the world have been answered. It seems that we again owe much to the failed First Mistress of the Coven. After more than three centuries, the Eutracian Viper Lord has risen. He and his servants have already started their rampage. In due course, all resistance in Eutracia might well be eliminated. If the Viper Lord is victorious one can only guess that he will then sail to Parthalon to wreak his mistress’s special brand of vengeance there as well. We might see the death ofall right-leaning blood east of the Tolenkas. This is indeed a glorious day.”
Pausing for a moment, Gracchus looked straight at Lucius Marius, then smiled. “For those military personnel who might be unschooled in the legend, I will provide a brief explanation.”
The Suffragat listened as Gracchus explained at some length the coming of the Viper Lord. Happy expressions surfaced all around. Even Lucius momentarily forgave Gracchus’ thinly veiled insult and went so far as to stand and start the raucous applause. As the ovation gradually subsided, Gracchus returned to his seat.
Vespasian stood and looked toward Julia Idaeus. Despite the affirmative vote on the war plan, one more hurdle remained before the emperor could pronounce the campaign official.
“Are you prepared to perform the auspicium?” he asked.
The Priory Femiculi stood. “I am,” she said. “The sacred birds await us.”
Vespasian nodded. “Very well,” he said. “Let us all adjourn to the courtyard.”
By custom, Persephone was the first to leave her seat and approach the emperor. As the remaining Suffragat members followed her, Vespasian led the group across the floor.
Raising one arm, Vespasian pointed toward one of the many onyx wall pilasters, and it soon glowed with the familiar azure color of the craft. Then the pilaster vanished to show a secret tunnel in the Aedifficium wall. The courtyard beyond was called the Rustica, and it was known only to the Suffragat. Built at the same time as the Aedifficium, it had been constructed in secrecy and at great expense. The sacred ritual of the auspiciums was the Rustica’s sole reason for being.
Taking Persephone by the hand, Vespasian led her into the arched tunnel and out through the far end. When they emerged into the Rustica, dappled sunlight and the pleasant warbling of songbirds greeted them.
The Rustica held marble seats arranged against one of its four walls. Another, far less grandiose throne for Vespasian sat on the floor before them. While the members found their places, Vespasian beckoned Persephone to take her seat. As he settled into his throne, the emperor looked around. Vespasian loved the Rustica, for he always sensed a measure of intimacy here that he found lacking in the Aedifficium.
The closed courtyard was square, measuring twenty meters on each side. As a tribute to the azure glow of the craft, the walls and floor were built of turquoise blocks, polished to a high sheen. There was no roof. Over time, lilac and crinkleberry vines had become so overgrown that the walls could scarcely be seen. The combined scents of the hardy vines wafted pleasantly on the afternoon air. The sky was bright blue and without a hint of cloud.
Vespasian turned to look toward the wall opposite the Suffragat. As Julia had promised, ten white birds sat atop a golden rail. The birds’ feet were tethered to the rail. The auspicium would produce a foretelling of either good or bad fortune and was always performed before a major event such as the trying of an important new craft formula, the implementation of a new law, or the advent of a major military campaign.
During the empire’s earliest days, thePon Q’tar had insisted on performing the ritual themselves. Later, they graciously bequeathed that honor to the reigning Femiculi. It had remained that way ever since. Because her heart was known to be pure, the Femiculi could be relied on to perform the ritual honestly and without prejudice.
How the sacred birds could divine either good or bad fortune was a secret of the craft that only the clerics knew. Even Rustannica’s emperors were never informed. Vespasian did not object to this, because in the entire history of the empire, the birds had never been wrong. By mutual agreement of the Suffragat, an auspicium decreed whether a proposed event should go forward.
If the birds foretold bad fortune, the impending event was quickly canceled. If the decree was good, the event was carried out with confidence. During the early days of the empire, a few quarrelsome military tribunes had refused to believe an auspicium warning of bad fortune. The secret campaign they launched proved disastrous, and Shashidan forces had slaughtered them to the last man. Since then, not one member dared doubt the validity of the ritual.
Vespasian knew that the fate of the campaign to take the Shashidan gold mines rested on what happened here. If the auspicium went badly, his magnificent plans would be canceled. Even he would be unable to change that. If the decree was for good fortune, the campaign would be launched. Once in the field, Vespasian would order yet more auspiciums to help him lead his forces to victory.
Each of the sacred songbirds was pure white, like the gowns and veils of the Priory maidens. The maidens tended the birds carefully, always ready for the day when thePon Q’tar would notify them that another auspicium was needed. Like thePon Q’tar clerics, the birds had been granted time enchantments, and they were thousands of years old. These same ten birds had been used in every auspicium ever conducted.
As Julia waited for Vespasian to summon her, her heart pounded. This would be the most important auspicium of her life-perhaps the most important in all of Rustannican history. As Vespasian turned her way, she felt the weight of his gaze.
“You may begin,” he said simply.
Julia rose from her seat and walked toward the far wall. Save for the soft cooing of the birds, the Rustica was bathed in silence. After stopping before the birds, Julia pointed in their direction. At once the tethers binding the birds’ feet to the golden rail vanished. Even so, the birds knew better than to fly away until their mistress willed it. Julia raised her arms and closed her eyes.
After the Femiculi recited the sacred chant, the birds would be free. They would wing their way home to the Rotunda and enter the building through the oculus. If they turned north first, the decree was favorable. If they turned south before flying for home, the decree dictated ill fortune. Julia took a deep breath and bowed her head.
“O sacred flame of the Vagaries, grant us the wisdom to receive this auspicium, and to be guided by its decree,” she said. “Allow your divine magic to drive the sacred birds skyward to show your servants which path is best. We ask for your guidance in the upcoming campaign. In your name we offer our thanks and our continued servitude.”
With that, Julia opened her eyes and raised her arms higher. Among a quick flurry of white wings, the birds took to the sky.
For several tense moments the birds circled overhead, giving no inkling of their decree. Then suddenly, as though of a single mind, they wheeled around to soar in one direction before finally turning toward the Rotunda. Vespasian held his breath as the birds chose their path.
They flew due north. With every person’s gaze trained on the birds, no one saw that Gracchus had narrowed his eyes slightly.
The Suffragat erupted into cheering. Letting go a deep sigh of relief, Vespasian looked at Persephone. She gave him a reassuring smile. Then tears started forming in her eyes as she hoped that when they said goodbye to one another it would not be for the last time.
For Vespasian the moment was bittersweet. As he watched Persephone’s eyes well up he made a silent pact with himself that he would treat each remaining moment with her as though it were their last. He then looked at Lucius. Already eager to be in the field, the beaming First Tribune gave his emperor a rapacious wink.
And so it was that the campaign to take the Shashidan gold fields had been officially ratified and could be put into motion. It would take time to assemble the needed troops and materiel. Even so, nothing could stop the attack now.
Persephone came to join her husband and he escorted her from the Rustica. By custom, each time an auspicium decree was favorable, a great banquet was served in the royal palace to celebrate the joyous event. Tonight would be no exception, and Vespasian was looking forward to it.
As the Suffragat left the courtyard, twoPon Q’tar clerics remained behind. Gracchus looked up at the sky and he smiled. Aegaea Mithridates, one of Gracchus’ most trustedPon Q’tar confidants, came to stand beside him. She had a pleasant face and flowing gray hair. As if she could again see the sacred birds winging home, she too looked to the sky.
Only hours ago Gracchus had informed thePon Q’tar of the Oraculum’s complete vision. Unlike Vespasian, Persephone, the Priory, and the Tribunes, nothing that the lead cleric had told thePon Q’tar during today’s Aedifficium session had come as a surprise. As had been so often the case over the centuries, once again their playacting had been flawless.
“And so you have succeeded once more, Gracchus,” Aegaea said.
“Don’t I always?” he asked in return.
Taking her gaze from the sky, Aegaea looked the lead cleric in the eyes. “Tell me,” she asked, “had you not intervened, which way do you believe that the birds would have flown?”
Gracchus looked at her. “We’ll never know,” he answered. “Nor does it matter. All that matters now is that we have our war.”
“And what is to keep theJin’Sai from crossing the Azure Sea?” she asked.
Gracchus smiled. “I will address that issue shortly, my dear,” he answered. “Do not fret. Tonight our only concern is to enjoy our emperor’s renowned hospitality.”
As Gracchus escorted Aegaea from the courtyard, the late afternoon sun slipped down behind the Rustica’s western wall.
Robert Newcomb
Rise of the Blood Royal