home

search

The Quill

  Sacrificing to Vesta is a sacred tradition passed down since the beginning of Aeterna. The eternal flame, which had never died once the old gods grew in power, marked the city with good fortune. Even after Gaulia’s hordes came and sacked the city, this flame burned on, though raging rather than softly warming its people. It was Vesta’s power made manifest for the glory of this city and her people. So Vince took great care to feed it.

  Young maidens who devoted themselves to Vesta’s family handed him slaughtered calves and lamb which he cast into the fire, giving prayers of exaltation and beseeching her to grant him wisdom and courage. Today was the first day he was to come before Tiber as a chosen of a great god of the city. From a cup he took wine and drank it, and then he poured the rest in the fire to link him to his goddess.

  Once the daily ceremony was done, he thanked the girls and commanded them to watch over the flame while he was away. Vince felt that they looked at him differently. After Tiber’s victory in the Arena, he set about executing his commands as quickly as possible, starting by naming Vince as his successor above all other family members in Vesta’s court. On the day that he commanded it, no one in the family could oppose him. The forces that make the sun rise and fall were behind him, and the strength of the greatest empire of the west was his to command.

  When whispers began to seep out, Minstrel quieted them, saying that it was Vesta who guided them to follow Tiber and so too shall they follow Vincent. The people who whispered, however, were not in the temple aiding Vince in the ceremony. Young girls who sought to be loved by a family or make one of their own were the ones who handed him the lamb and the wine. They looked at him because they desired him, that is what Vince thought. If that were true, his thoughts continued, then that must mean they believed that he did not love Aemilia. All of the hearts in the city believed this, and it pained Vince greatly.

  He donned his cloak as he left the temple, entering into the sunlight of midday. The streets were quiet and the forum was mostly empty. Vince thought to a mere short time ago when he had to sneak through crowds of people unnoticed to find his lover. Farther away, he remembered Benito and Cassian and Atticus marching together as sons of the most beloved man in the world. Cassian and Atticus hardly speak to him now. Benito could not speak at all.

  The surrealness of the walk threatened to strangle him. Stones and grass that clicked and rustled as boots and sandals walked over them were silent save where he walked. Tiber’s dwelling, the former Temple of Mars, had so few nobles and merchants flowing around it that it appeared Numitus’s mourning was not yet done. That had ended some time ago. All that was between Vince and the temple was an empty path and a drunk old man downing wine in all sorts of vessels, glass or clay with even a few metal cups cast off around him. Such greed for a vagabond, Vince thought.

  “Hoh hoh hoh.” The drunkard coughed out. It almost seemed like a laugh. He threw his head back, flipping his long and stringy hair to the back of his head. A thick white beard grew to cover his chin and the top of his neck, and his eyes seemed golden in the light. “To the spoils, the king!”

  Vince continued to walk as if he had not heard. Though it was a custom of Vesta to warm the widow and the orphan, drunkard men were not of interest to a virgin goddess.

  “Do you not hear me?” The old man called out to him. Vince glanced and caught those golden iris looking dead at him. “That power’s going to eat him. Oh valiant curator become king of men, that power’s going to eat him. Feed the people? Feed the warriors? It will not matter. Chaos is here, and it will never end. A storm is coming. And you best fear it.”

  The drunkard went back to his craft and drank until Vince had left him behind. An odd man, Vince thought. An odious one at that.

  In a few minutes, Vince arrived at the former Temple of Mars, now called the Citizen House, and was greeted by a servant wearing Tiber’s colors of red and white. He was a portly and squat man but fulfilled his duties by taking him to the chamber of the senate of the Old People. How foreign it was to Vince that power would be given to many and not one man. How might a kingdom flourish with a hundred petty kings when one sovereign will serve well? Vince thought. A council is a council, ultimately powerless in the face of Tiber. But a sovereign of so many? That was the work of insanity.

  When Vince entered, he saw many men and women seated upon the walls which pushed out to form stairs which served as seats for the council members. There were to be eight members, each representing a great god of the city, spearheaded by the first citizen who had final say in the matter of state. Vince recognized only two of these people, having been far too reckless and aloof in his past which was not so distant yet.

  The first was Era, the beautiful madam of Love, who sat on a silk cushion of down feathers, clothed in a light woolen toga, and was tended to by her several ladies and men.

  The second was his wife who scorned him. Aemilia had looked like a mystical goddess on their wedding day, yet she had worn black and turned away from him once the binding ceremony was done. Tiber had officiated it out of respect for her father. Despite such respect, Vince remembered small tears trailing down her face while Tiber said the words which bound them for this life and on. Even now, he caught her eyes, and a look of disappointment looked back before turning away to one of her handmaidens. Vince took a seat in the middle of the room, not yet ready to run away opposite her place on the far side of the chamber. Another servant entered.

  “All stand for the honored First Citizen of Aeterna.” He said. Everyone stood up, though some more slowly than others. Tiber’s rise to power would not be received by everyone with great joy. Vince did not know how the other gods and their chosen would react. While Family and Storm won the day, the other great gods stood pat to see who their new leader truly was at this first convening of the council. They were War, Love, Harvest, Sea, Justice, and Demos who was called Cloacina.

  Tiber entered the room chest high, dressed in a black leather tunic and trousers accompanied by a red sash and white undershirt. It was modest attire that would have been unbecoming on Numitus who wore gaudy and grand attire when dealing with matters of state.

  “Please sit.” He said, his voice reverberating easily throughout the chamber. Vince had noticed that Tiber’s voice was louder than it had been before he had taken on being Storm’s chosen. The serious administrator’s tone, however, was still there. “This is our first meeting, and it will be the last with servants. All of your men and ladies will have to wait in the public rooms or the gardens from now on.”

  “Oh Tiber, you cannot be—”

  “In this room, I am First Citizen.” Tiber cut off a lanky and long haired man who spoke out of turn. He wore no armor nor leather but linens from far away. “All of you who are not the chosen leader by your god, leave. Now.”

  At once all of the servants left, fearing the sheer and awesome aura of the most powerful man in the city, and perhaps the world with his two patron gods. The disgruntled looks and murmurs of the chosen started, but they ended quickly as Tiber started again.

  The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

  “Numitus left many tasks to be taken up. When he ruled, he did it alone. I have no such conviction. I have called this council to advise and support my rule and maintain peace in our empire. Such dealings are to be treated with the utmost importance. If any of you wish to excuse yourself from this council, take your leave now. No punishment will befall you.”

  No one got up to leave.

  “Good.” Tiber continued. His demeanor relaxed. “As it stands, my victory in the Arena has pacified most of the citizens within our city and the nearby provinces. I have already received word from all the governors within a three day ride that they pledge their loyalty to me as they had to Numitus. We stand at the precipice of a great opportunity to consolidate the gains of the empire made under General Procas.

  “There are two matters that are pressing above all others. First, how might we gain the loyalty of Numitus’s most trusted men. They are far enough away that word might just be reaching them of Numitus’s defeat and passing. That leaves us with little time to extend the olive branch and welcome them into the fold. Lady Aemilia, what do you believe is the best course?”

  Vince was shocked that Tiber would immediately speak to Aemilia about such a heavy topic so soon after killing her father. Frankly, he believed that including Aemilia on this council would be unfair to her. With such grief, Vince could never imagine doing this to her. Aemilia’s response, however, shocked him even more.

  “I have already sent word to the generals of my father’s legions, declaring that Mars will follow you, First Citizen.” Aemilia said, fully composed. She stood at attention and spoke clearly. In her soft violet dress accentuated by her gold and diamond jewelry, Vince could not take his eyes off her. Only after she sat down and Tiber began to speak did he look away.

  “Then that matter is already well ahead of where we were.” Tiber responded. He seemed pleased at Aemilia’s initiative. He heaped honors on her that no other victor of the arena in history would have. Still, Vince felt uneasy about her presence. “Minos, I am placing you in charge of campaigns in Gaulia, Germania, and Hellas. Within that is also your responsibility to annex the remaining Mars forces in the distant provinces. Is that clear?”

  “Of course, Your Majesty.” A large and bulky man stood at attention. He was the one who sat the highest up closest to the entrance. He wore a white toga of wool that looked scratchy, but if there was any discomfort, the man— Minos— did not show it. His short brown hair and patchy beard covered his head. In many ways, he looked like he was kin to the drunkard outside. “If there are any traitors in those provinces?”

  Tiber did not reply and instead took a pause as if considering. Eventually, he nodded his head. Minos, with a big toothy grin, took his seat quietly.

  “With that matter taken care of for the moment,” Tiber started again, shifting the conversation and his gaze to Vince and others closer to him. “The other major issue facing my ascent to First Citizen is the matter of the office of Curator Annona. As I occupied the office, it will remain vacant until I appoint someone to the position. I do not plan on making a decision today, but I want to solicit nominations from each of you to consider.

  “I am not Numitus, who was great in his own right, even calling down a manifestation of his god to solicit wisdom and power— something not even I have learned to do. I plan to work with each of you to build a greater Aeterna, one who might build an empire greater than the Old People and the Ancients. All I will say to the matter of this office is that I will not appoint my son and heir, Vincent. His duties and attention will be needed elsewhere. Now, since those two are out of the way…”

  Tiber continued to speak more about his plans for the city. Roads and walls and festivals all with the great leaders the city had to offer. Much was left unsaid, but by the end of the meeting, Vince realized how distant the gap was between he and each of the other heads of household. Even Aemilia, thrust into her position by the sudden death of her father, was better prepared for political life. Decidedly, Vince was not.

  Once the convene was adjourned, the chosen leaders each left and were met by their servants in the halls, whispering about the events of the day.

  Minutes later, Vince was summoned to Tiber’s private study on the third level. As he climbed the staircase, Vince wondered why he had been called to speak with Tiber. They met every day before the council and certainly would afterwards. Why meet again? Vince entered the study and closed the door behind him.

  The room was far larger than the former dwellings of the First Citizen, containing more scrolls and books than Vince thought were in existence. At least fifty different manuscripts were present of all shapes and sizes, linking both walls on marble shelves protruding from the wall. At the center of the room was Tiver, sitting at a large wooden desk with two chairs placed in front of it for visitors. The First Citizen appeared to be writing with a feather.

  “Ah, Vincent.” Tiber said, looking up from his work. “Please, take a seat.”

  “Thank you.” Vince responded, taking his place.

  “You did well in the council meeting today.” Tiber told him, scribbling on his papers before finally salting them and setting them aside. He stuck the feather in a black glass bottle that was short and fat. “Most young men would have sought the eyes of all the leaders. Your restraint was well appreciated.”

  “I thought I was too quiet.” Vince said, his face showing the uncertainty. Tiber noticed this and chuckled.

  “My boy, you did exactly as you needed to. With the chaos that ensued after your… ah unfortunate misstep with Aemilia, a reserved nature and calm presence was needed. You are to be First Citizen after me. The people need to believe you will not falter and break under the pressure.”

  Vince did not respond. His mind was deep in thought about how the events of the day played out. This life is not for me. He thought to himself, wincing at his own weakness. I am such a fool for causing all of this.

  “Vincent.” Tiber broke him from his thoughts. “I know that you are a passionate young man. The emotions you feel… you feel them far stronger than most. Whether that be your anger when you fought as a boy, or now as you doubt your resolve, I assure you that your passion will serve you well.

  “Think, my boy. I spoke to you about how the family relies upon me. How I cannot bear to let them see my tears because they need to believe in my strength. All you have done has allowed me to show what strength I have— what strength my gods have. Truly, you have erred with Aemilia, but in doing so, you sowed the seeds of chaos that the strong must reap. This is our harvest. The power of Aeterna is at our fingertips.”

  Vince tried to understand, and in some part he did. He knew that his faith in Tiber to triumph over Numitus was not misplaced. The First Citizen was a man of great renown for many reasons. Victory in battle was now another one he could add to his reputation. Tiber saw that Vince was still reluctant to speak and so continued to try to cheer his young heir up.

  “Look here. See this feather.” Tiber said, taking and holding up the feather. Ink dripped from it before Tiber caught the drops. “This is a quill. Such a fine thing, but one which I had only seen here. They cost far more than you think. The ink as well. Now, I can write with them. How much easier do you think it will be for me to govern with this quill rather than reeds that snap if I write too much or press too hard?

  “These are the fruits of your doing— of my doing. The chaos that overtook this city, it opened the path for us to show our strength, and thereby the strength of our family. Never before has Vesta risen so high. So take heart, Vincent. You are young, yes. But I have faith that you will become a man properly capable of succeeding me. I know it.”

  “Thank you… father.” Vince responded. Such words from his leader and mentor caused his heart to move and his eyes to wet, but he did not yet cry. A vigor arose in him to make Tiber proud. “Very well. Please, how can I best serve you and our family.”

  “Keep the ceremony of the Hearth.” Tiber said, leaning back into his chair. A pleasant smile graced his face. “Then, find a way to bring Aemilia back to you. More than anything, that girl is your future. For that matter, that girl is Aeterna’s future. I believe you can redeem yourself to her. You need only to keep trying.”

  “Of course. I would have it no other way.”

  “Good. I am glad that I could give you solace, Vincent. If you will excuse me, I need to attend some business.”

  Vince nodded and stood from his chair. With a bow, he exited the room and closed the door behind him. As he walked, his mind was in awe at the magnanimity of Tiber. Such a man was deserving of his place, and all who came to him would know it.

  Beneath that awe and wonder however, an inkling stirred in the back of his mind. Despite Tiber’s best efforts, word of plans and schemes would seep out of this temple. Even as a novice at the game of statecraft, that much was clear. Everything changes when regimes fall, including the landscape all governments are based on.

  An eerie realization dawned on him that because of this change, even Tiber’s foundation was in flux. His power was not the power of a sword, but rather as an administrator, making use of his proper authorities just as he had as Curator Annona. Such prowess at bureaucracy works best in times of stability, and such a luxury was not Tiber’s nor Vince’s. Regardless of such dark thoughts, Vince believed in Tiber.

  His thoughts were halted when he arrived back on the first level and made it to the exit. Down the hall, he saw Aemilia in all her beauty. He wondered why she was still here despite the day growing late. Those thoughts too left him when she looked at him. His cheeks warmed as he saw her big brown eyes. Vince moved to get closer, but a look of pain on Aemilia’s face stopped him. She turned and left, joining her handmaidens outside and disappearing.

  That look of pain was burned into Vince’s mind and consumed it for the rest of the night.

Recommended Popular Novels