Chapter sixty

Ortia

 

Perclivius smiled across his desk at Aurelian, who was very uncomfortable. Aurelian refused the proffered sherry and cigar. Perclivius had set up his ‘seat of government’ in the old imperial trade hall, a grand building that hadn’t been used for anything much for centuries, given that there was now no imperial trade.  He’d found an upstairs meeting room and converted it into an executive suite – He was very happy with it.

‘I’m so pleased you have agreed to come, General’ he purred, ‘we have a lot to talk about’

‘You lied to me’ spat Aurelian, ‘you said that you’d give us time to think about your demands. I assumed that you meant that you wouldn’t provoke us with any actions during that time’

Earlier that day Perclivius’s faction had moved swiftly against the barracks and had taken them in a couple of hours. The loyalists had either been killed or captured. Bit by bit control of the city was being lost.

‘That wasn’t my doing’ said Perclivius, ‘that’s overzealous lieutenants. These things happen in conflicts… you know that’

Aurelian sat stone-faced and silent.

‘Anyway, that’s just an indication of how weak you are’ said Perclivius

Aurelian shook his head emphatically.

‘I don’t believe that that is true’

Perclivius raised his eyebrows.

‘Oh really…. I think that’s just something you say, to keep your spirits up’

‘What do you want?’ demanded Aurelian

‘I want you to persuade Marthian to step down, voluntarily, and to go back into normal civilian life’

‘And if I can’t?’

‘Then I will crush you both, for the good of the city’

‘She won’t stand down. If she is forced out then she will go into exile’      

Perclivius thought about this for only a second or two.

‘I can’t have that’ he said very quietly, ‘no-one wants a leader-in-exile stirring things up. We need a clean break’

‘What do you mean by a ‘clean break’?’ Aurelian asked, with rising anxiety and anger. 

‘You know what I mean. Sometimes amputation is only answer if the limb has gangrene’

‘That’s not what you said to me before’ blurted out Aurelian, stumbling over the words.

‘Really?’ said Perclivius, ‘to be honest with you, I’m not sure that I really care about I said to you before. Sometimes action is more vital than promises’

‘You’re nothing more than a malicious liar’  

Perclivius smiled his habitual reasonable smile but this time it was only a reflex.

‘And you are a rank idiot who believes that everyone acts in good faith’

‘Marthian was absolutely right about you’ shouted Aurelian.

 ‘And what good has her prescience done you? This is what happens if you hide under an elf maiden’s petticoats’

Aurelian was too angry to speak. He clenched his fists under the table.

‘Poodles love to nestle under there you know…’ Perclivius sneered

Aurelian banged his fist on the table, stood up, roared, and punched Perclivius very hard full in the face. The old elf fell with a crunch and a groan. Aurelian felt a moment of extreme satisfaction before the guards, who were with their leader at all times, surrounded him and bundled him to the floor. 

‘Take him away’ ordered Perclivius, looking across from where had fallen, ‘lock him up somewhere very dark’.

‘And’, he said, slurring through his cut lip, ‘make sure that his mistress finds out what I’ve done’.

 

***

Earlier that day the letter had appeared on Marthian’s desk without warning, so when she finally noticed it she had no idea how long it had been there. She began to read it eagerly but was less eager the further Hardacre’s narrative unfolded. The human had told the story of Quiena’s vault quite truthfully, without apportioning any blame, but with a very clear warning about how he interpreted the consequences. However, the Flavia incident was carefully described as an accident and Hardacre had been at pains to explain how there appeared to be some confusion about what Flavia had been doing in Melloreis. Hardacre asked for clarification.

‘If only I knew’ thought Marthian. 

Marthian wrote back immediately, confessing her predicament and explaining that Perclivius, not she, had sent Flavia. She also wrote that they shouldn’t worry about any ‘accident’, Flavia was officially an enemy. She wrote the address ‘Armoury Vault, Melloreis’ as instructed, tapped the paper three times, and watched it disappear again.

The letter left her full of apprehension and disbelief.  She considered her two probable fates – to be killed either by Perclivius’s faction or by the Tlaxacans. On balance she thought that she might prefer the second – at least it was a proper enemy.  She also knew that however painful it might be, she had to warn Perclivius of the danger. But first, she would go to see Julia.

 

***

‘Your disguise becomes you, cousin’ said the High Priestess.  Marthian was wearing the traditional white toga of a priestess of the Lady. In it she had been able to hurry across town without a second glance.

‘Perhaps you see something unexpected in my future, Julia?’ Marthian commented with a sigh. They sat, once more, beside the network of pools and streams that led out of the temple complex and into the city.

‘Everyone comes to the Lady eventually, Proconsul’ said Julia

Marthian considered this. She really wasn’t ready for that yet. 

‘So, I’m still Proconsul am I?’ she asked quietly.

‘That is not up to me to decide’ said Julia, frowning, her expression suggesting that she thought Marthian had asked a rather odd and unseemly question.

‘If I am, why has the Lady not intervened on my behalf?’

Julia gave her a look halfway between distaste and disapproval.

‘The politics of the City are of no interest to her – as you know’

Marthian nodded.

‘However, the defence of the City presumably is…’

‘Yes, in so far as the peace of the temple might be compromised’

 Marthian controlled her desire to say something caustic in response and continued to talk as evenly as she was able. She was keen to find out what Julia knew.

 ‘Do you sense an invasion coming, High Priestess?’

‘Things are not clear, but you know that I have felt that we are on a cusp for some time, and it seems that that time may be upon us’

‘Yes, I have intelligence reports that suggest strongly that the Tlaxacans will be with us in a matter of days’

‘The Lady will be ready’ said Julia, throwing her hands out so that Marthian could see her open palms.

‘So, she will protect the city, will she?’ asked Marthian carefully.

‘I cannot tell – she has not made that clear – her intentions are uncertain’

Marthian’s mouth set into a thin horizontal line.

‘Is that your way of saying that she doesn’t care if we live or die?’

Julia face clouded.

‘No, that is not what I meant’

‘And – you’re certain that the Lady could withstand a million Tlaxacans and the powers of Whitecloak?’

 ‘That is also unclear...’ admitted Julia nodding.

‘But didn’t she do it before? During the last invasion’

Julia looked for a moment as if she found this question impertinent, but she answered it anyway.

‘Yes, but that exertion weakened her and she has not had long enough to rest’ sighed Julia, ‘although, of course, she still has considerable resources…’

The conversation briefly tailed off. Marthian stared into the clear still water in the pool in front of them and imagined it tainted with elven blood. She shivered.

‘If this civil war isn’t resolved then I am certain that the City must fall. We don’t have enough trained soldiers to guard the walls.’ She said, her voice icy cold 

‘I am greatly sorrowed to hear that, but there is little that I can do’ responded Julia, ‘my role is a spiritual one – temporal matters must be resolved by the temporal powers’

‘Even if they are resolved by force and to the Lady’s extreme detriment?’  

‘My role is clear’ Julia said emphatically.

Marthian stood up and began to walk away.

‘In which case we should all go and find a suitable way to die’ 

Julia stood up and gestured for her to sit down again.

‘You are talking foolishly cousin’

‘Am I?’ spat out Marthian, ‘as far as I can see you and the Lady are our last chance’

‘How?’ exclaimed Julia, ‘how can that be?’

Marthian did not sit back down, but she didn’t continue to walk away either.

‘For exactly the reasons that you just indicated; I really need you to mediate between the two factions, as an unimpeachably disinterested party’

Julia looked shocked. She stared at Marthian as if she’d just asked her to strip naked.

‘That is way beyond my remit…’ she began

‘Nonsense!’ barked Marthian, ‘your remit is to protect the Lady and look after the spiritual needs of the City. At this moment the spiritual needs of the City are for reconciliation. If you can’t manage that then I don’t know who can or what you are actually useful for’

‘I am not useful to the City’ said Julia, her lips thinned to a line, ‘I am the City!’

She stopped for a moment, rage building up behind her eyes.

 ‘How dare you ask me to do this thing!’ she continued, staring witheringly into Marthian’s eyes, ‘you know that what you are asking is not right. You should be ashamed.’

Marthian felt her stomach churn. She had had conversations like this with Julia so many times, as both an adult and a child and she could never withstand this sort of assault – one that was on her sense of propriety and hierarchy. This was too much like her many memories of being a little child on a visit to the temple – on her best behaviour while her father discussed the affairs of the city with the High Priestess. It seemed like she would have to be on her best behaviour again.  

‘I am sorry, dear cousin’ said Marthian very softly, bowing her head and refusing to meet Julia’s gaze ‘I felt that I had no choice but to discuss these things’

‘The answer is no’ scowled Julia, ‘you do your job and I will do mine. You are impudent and naive’

Marthian had nothing else left to say.

‘I will pray to the lady for you’ Julia said and withdrew rapidly into the temple.

Marthian felt like weeping, openly, in the grounds of the temple, and waiting until her father came to comfort her. But he was dead. Anyway, she was of the proconsular line and he would have wanted her carry on, with as little fuss as she could manage. She swallowed her tears and tried to summon up anger towards someone – the Tlaxacans, Perclivius, Julia; but she just felt numb. She began to wonder whether she was strong enough and worthy of her father’s name. She began to wonder if she would fail.