The ancient senator Marcus Sculla was the richest man in the Novissime Empire, but no one knew him. He walked unmolested with an easy posture among the massive crowd as they flooded through the capital city of Oram. The scents of exotic fruit, fresh baked bread and meat cooked over open flames filled the air. Sculla did not have to reach for them, the pleasant smells simply wafted in with every breath.
He scanned the chorus of merchants as they beckoned the citizens to their colorful tents along the sides of the streets, where all manner of goods, from the luxurious to the ordinary could be found. There was nothing he needed or wanted, but he had always found a simple pleasure in the sight of a busy street.
In the crowd, Sculla caught sight of a woman with big doe eyes and the simple braids of a plebeian as she raised a bright red dress to a plain clothed man. Sculla knew at a glance the dress would be the nicest thing the woman had ever owned, and that the man could not afford it. He kept walking.
The first nip of winter cut through the warmth of the midday sun. At the brief discomfort of the chilled breeze, Sculla slipped inside a large blue and white striped tent that had been erected beside a bathhouse. Inside, a Moorish man held a show of four spaniels. The dogs jumped over each other, walked on two legs and leaped through hoops of fire while the Moor told colorful jokes in a thick, southern accent. But Sculla paid him no mind. He watched the crowd as they laughed and gasped at the feats. His thoughts were on the next festival and whether the Moor had been worth the coin. Satisfied, Sculla left the tent before the show ended.
Outside a portly Novissime vendor with a shaved head and chin and a thick brown mustache, rare features for a man of the empire, called to the bustling crowd. "Oye! Come now, come now! Take a look at the wondrous creations of the Underground Man!" Vulgar presentation, Sculla thought
Beside the man, a bone-thin, grotesque creature huddled in the corner of a small iron cage. An Underground Man. Sculla eyed the creature. Little was known of them or their creations. No Novissime blacksmith or craftsman could replicate the objects, but no practical use had been found for them and the trinkets were largely relegated to children's toys. The legions' reports on the discovery of their caves in the northern Ferrus Mountains claimed the gray-skinned half man half monsters were dangerous, prone to erupt in wild fits when startled. A risky thing having such a savage beast here.
As the Novissime vendor eyed a group of children giggling and playing with the trinkets, Sculla watched a young girl approach the cage. Unseen by anyone else, the girl reached through the bars and held a small purple flower out to the Underground Man. Sculla did not move to intervene, he simply observed. The girl's pudgy cheeks pressed against the bars as she stretched the flower further into the cage. The Underground Man turned to her slowly. Its large, dark green eyes darted from the flower to the girl and back again. The girl shook the flower toward the creature. Sculla watched an oversized gray hand creep across the cage.
The Underground Man took the flower with two bony fingers and cupped it gently with both hands. Its face twisted into a hideous smile, and the girl smiled back.
"Let's go! We'll be late for the race!" The girl's father called. Sculla felt no relief for the girl as she bounded after him, only the slightest wisp of a thought that was gone the moment it arose. These Underground Men are not entirely monsters.
Sculla too made his way to the coliseum. It was the final event of the festival. Through Sculla's influence and significant financial contribution, the citizens of the Novissime Empire had been satiated. The past week had all been part of Sculla's unofficial, unspoken policy of Sweets and Circus. The citizens were happy, and so the Consuls of the various Novissime territories remained loyal. There would be no festival during a rebellion, and the citizens needed their festival. This final event, however, was the emperor's idea. Even Sculla had no sway over him.
He entered the coliseum with the last portion of the crowd. As they turned right toward the general seating, he alone took the vaulted hallway to the left, passing through alternating streaks of shadow and beams of sunlight that shone through high-arched windows. He had traveled this way before and knew his footsteps on the stone stairs echoed in the corridor, but the raucous crowd's cheers flooded from the stands, drowning out the small noise.
Sculla turned a corner and came to two guards. One stepped toward him, but before the guard could speak, Sculla moved a fold in his simple white robes to reveal a pin on his shoulder. It was a gold engraving of the wolf; the symbol of the Novissime.
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"Excuse me, senator." The guard relaxed. "I'm afraid you've missed much of the pageantry, sir."
"As intended." Sculla smiled at the guards. He did not wait for their response before he proceeded through the doorway.
The royal council's seating area was full when Sculla entered. His seat alone was empty. He sat in the front row of the elevated section next to Crassus, a young senator and advisor to the emperor's wife. Tullia, the old philosophy mentor of the emperor was next to Crassus and beside him sat the emperor's wife, Livia.
She was too young for her station and as such possessed a kind of youthful beauty, though Sculla maintained her eyes were too far apart and her nose was a tad off center. She was schooled in politics, from a good family and an obvious choice for the emperor's bride, but Sculla knew of an affair she had with a high-ranking, well-respected general. He knew that the general was removed from his post in the city and sent south to hide the scandal. Sculla held her secret, even Livia was unaware he knew. She glanced in his direction, her face was tight and nearly expressionless but for the slightest bit of contempt. Sculla smiled cordially.
A pop of excitement from the crowd interrupted Sculla's thoughts. Aiden, the emperor was making his way onto the track atop his decorated white mount, Coaster. He waved to each section of the crowd, spinning his horse gracefully. He then blew a kiss to Livia.
Sculla watched her smile and give the slightest nod. Seeming to notice the eyes of the crowd were on her, and that her response was not enough, Livia stood and blew a kiss back, then more to the crowd whose cheers grew louder in adoration. She took her seat and caught Sculla's knowing eye. Her husband was a fool, emperor or not, and Livia's entire existence was a show for the people. Sculla could almost respect her performance if she didn't make it so obvious.
Aiden made his way to the starting line next to the thirteen racers, each dressed in festive cloaks representing their provinces or noble houses; the orange of Calor, the turquoise of The Bryer, some shades of red, green, and yellow and the blue of Vencia. Aiden raised his hand toward the signaler to indicate when to start the race. That the emperor saw nothing wrong with being the one to signal the start, while also being in the race, nearly made Sculla audibly chuckle. He instead gave a practiced smile that he knew could only be seen as genuine excitement.
The emperor was a fine racer, and would surely win. His horse was among the finest in the Novissime Empire and the others in the field surely knew the best position to finish was second. The crowd roared louder when Aiden lowered his hand, the bell was rung and the racers were off.
Sculla had seen Aiden race before. He knew his move. The emperor would take the inside of the track and exit the first turn before the other racers, stay on the inside, beat them to the second turn, slide into the other racer's path, slowing their momentum, at which point victory would be his. But as he forced his way into position coming into the second turn he had not gained enough of a lead and Coaster’s rear leg caught the front of another, sending horse, emperor and half the racers in the field crashing to the track while the others went on to finish.
The roar of the crowd died.
In a rage, Aiden leaped to his feet and stormed to the nearest downed rider, the Vencian in blue, whose leg was pinned beneath his panicking, immobile mount. “Incompetent fool! What amateur move was that?” Aiden shouted to the agonized man, kicking him to his back to reveal a line of medals across his front that declared his many victories. “A rider with this experience would never do something so reckless! An imposter? Assassin?” The emperor hissed at the man who could not think to muster a defense. “Guards!”
More than thirty members of the Placian Guard, the silver-armored, purple-cloaked personal guards of the Emperor were already on the track. Aiden drew a sword from the hip of an approaching guardsman. “Take them all to the undercourt and beat them until we find all the conspirators!” The emperor shouted as he stormed over to Coaster. The horse whinnied in pain, still writhing from the fall, legs tangled in the adornments that had just previously shone so majestically.
Disgust dripped from the emperor's reddened face with each bead of sweat. Aiden gripped the Placian's elegantly engraved hilt with two hands and raised the blade high above his head. He took two furious breaths then brought the sword down in a brutal chopping motion, crashing it into the base of Coaster's skull, but it was not enough to finish him. Aiden continued to hack at the beast as the horrified crowd looked on, each cleave sending bits of flesh across the track. The citizens nearly choked on the smell of blood and torrent of dust rising from below. To protests of innocence, the Placian guards ripped the thirteen racers, each a representative sent from the various provinces and noble houses of the empire, from off the top or from underneath their horses. They dragged the ones who would not go willingly off the coliseum floor.
Livia caught Sculla's eye and turned away. Sculla watched as she controlled her breath the best she could, then she rose and left without a word. Tullia buried his face in his hands while Crassus turned around in his seat to speak with the senators behind him. They all gave subdued gasps of horror and shock.
Sculla scoffed at their hypocrisy. It's a fool doing a foolish thing. An obscene act by an obscene man. Still, Sculla was bothered by the public nature of Aiden's act. He observed the broken faces in the crowd. The citizens made no sound and no one moved until their emperor had left the track. The damage has been done. The balance of the empire has been shaken, Sculla thought, but not irrevocably. Then Sculla wondered if he wanted to save it.