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Lucius Alden,
‘Bloody Tiger’
Lord Lucius Aldenus the third,
Praetor Maximus,
Legatus ‘Omnis Legionis’
King Lucius III
Scorned Hearts
Part V
-A taste of justice-
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> Storm walked out to the opulent, open-spaced and column-adorned balcony that dabbled as the rooftop of his villa’s front garden patio and yawned gazing at the now silent city. Some hours after the bells had caused a great disturbance everything seemed to have calmed down.
>
> Although it hadn’t.
>
> You don’t get the bell-ringers to blast at the bloody things for no fucking reason or an order from the King!
>
> The princes could do it sure. Ralph had in fact on one occasion to get a good laugh and impress that comely cock-loving maiden, whose name Storm couldn’t remember at that very moment other than the shape of her plump mouth which so happened to be her moniker, but Ralph was long dead now and little Roderick, the next royal culprit in line for such a stupid prank, is just too plaguing short for the task or going after the palace’s maidens.
>
> Although you never know.
>
> A frowned Nattas watched the groups of torch-carrying riders moving outside the villa’s walls with increased curiosity. The Baron hadn’t changed clothes or go to his bed despite the very-late hour because his instincts were telling him that something had happened at the palace.
>
> He couldn’t fathom what that thing could be. Nattas could guess obviously. His mind poring over uncomfortable secrets exposed or the bounty hunter making it inside the city. Storm wanted to finish his conversation with Griet but she had stayed in the yard to keep a close eye on anyone approaching the villa.
>
> Life is naught but days and nights of grueling tests on one’s will and vigilance with the occasional breaks of ephemeral moments of pleasure.
>
> Nattas thought it was better this way. Because to lull yourself into a false sense of security or cover with the soft moist folds of ‘Zoie de vivre’ could only end up costing you dearly.
>
> When the times of reckoning approach.
>
> Storm saw the lights of the procession round the corner about two whole blocks away from the direction of the King’s Baths, enter Main Street and then crossing over to Salonius Emporium. Only this time they didn’t stop there but continued following the side street that led to Merchant District and Nattas’ villa –built at the border afore that.
>
> Nattas heard Sudi moving under the veranda and then saw his lackey appear as well. The man kept his attention on the villa’s entrance where Griet was hidden. The sound of many horses approaching grew and the semi-dark street lit up from the many torches the riders carried with them.
>
> “They might pass us by chief,” Sudi said and Nattas stooped over the marble rails anxiously.
>
> “They are coming here,” Storm grunted. “Something happened.”
>
> “It might have nothing to do with us,” Sudi argued as the horses approached and Griet got up at the top of the wall, covered with the woody aromatic climber plant the late Titus Balbus had bought from one of his sailor buddies and Nattas hadn’t been able to get rid of for years, and signaled with her hand at the lit up front of the villa they might have visitors.
>
> Eight riders, Griet signaled with her fingers, then making a small correction not that it made too much of a difference. Seven.
>
> The villa was pretty light in security personnel due to budget constrains and the matter of Novesium.
>
> You’d think with two killers… three counting Sudi, living under the same roof this wouldn’t be a problem.
>
> You don’t expect a blasted charge by the royal cavalry.
>
> That’s just fucking great, the Baron thought clenching his jaw angrily. Stupid dead-eyed bitch, this is your fault for not warning me with more enthusiasm not to trust that lying piece of shit Rhys. And your stupid tutor’s that has her ravenous cunt stuffed by that oily cocksucker’s prick instead of being down here to help solve the plaguing problem!
>
> “Had I known that for certain,” Storm Nattas replied wryly to Sudi’s assertion. “I would have had you stall them at the front gates whilst I beat a hasty fucking exit out of the back. Since we know fuck all of what bloody happened such a panicked reaction might have given the whole blasted game away. Burst the sewer’s lid wide open sort of speak and doused us from disheveled head to puckered arsehole with wagon-loads of soft watery turds.”
>
> “I’ll see what they want chief,” Sudi retorted calmly to his eloquent diatribe.
>
> “You better hurry the fuck up,” Nattas commented dryly upon seeing the armoured Knight almost riding on the closed gates of his villa and stopping at the last moment. “The barbarians are about to storm the blasted walls.”
>
>
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“Sir Gregor, Sir Calvus.” Lucius ordered, hearing commotion again outside the royal chambers. Vacia started crying, seemingly triggered or startled by the noise. The sudden sound pierced the tense atmosphere and made Lucius’ heart sink. “Stay with them. Cyrus, get everyone to their quarters! This isn’t a darn spectacle! Not a word of it comes out, or there will be a reckoning!”
He signaled for Sabinus to follow him and walked towards the door, now barred by the menacing figure of Logan Barret, with little Roderick standing next to the northern warrior’s left leg.
A deep frown twisted the young boy’s face.
“Logan,” Lucius grunted and walked fast to reach them. “Get the boy out of here.”
“Nay,” Logan grumbled with a scowl.
“Dad,” Roderick asked with a troubled voice. “Why is Cia crying? What happened to Ali?”
“Logan gods darn it,” Lucius growled, choosing to ignore the boy’s query, and reached to grab Roderick’s shoulder. The king wanted to push his firstborn out of the room. Logan stepped forward, a half step really but it made clear that he intended to challenge the King’s decision.
Eh. Are you bloody serious now?
“Lucius,” Faye intervened as the two men eyed each other tensely.
“Move aside,” Lucius warned the glowering Northman. Logan carried so many wrinkles and scars he had a very limited range of expressions on his face. Mostly variations of his patented nasty scowl with the occasional mean glare thrown in.
“Father,” Roderick protested.
“Be quiet boy!” Lucius snapped almost losing his temper.
“Must… see,” Logan whispered hoarsely. “Hark back to… this moment to fuel his revenge.”
What in the Allgods grace?
“Roderick let’s take Vacia to your room,” Faye said getting between them. She carried the small girl with her left arm and used the right to take the tensed boy’s hand. At that moment Sir Flavius Nasica arrived and paused seeing everyone crammed at the entrance of Monica’s quarters.
“Your grace,” Nasica rustled glancing beyond Lucius to the interior of the bedchamber.
“Sir Gregor shall tell you what happened,” Lucius deflected. The last thing he wanted in that state of mind was to speak to the knight with a direct line of communication with Duke Holt. Lucius pushed forward, finally causing Logan to step aside. Damnation! The upset king grimaced in annoyance but didn’t have the time to deal with the Philistine warrior.
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The King reached the yard twenty minutes later just as Sir Valgus arrived with their horses. Lucius was in his court armour, a variation of the red-plated Legion’s general cuirass and the Royal Knight’s armour but he’d no gloves on just his sword. The wine-red colored cuirass had the typical head of a gold Blacktiger sculpted on Lucius’ chest and the same pattern –though much larger- on the pauldrons that flared out at the shoulders, the steel shaped in intricate details and the breastplate ending with a fauld of four interconnected lames that were in turn secured with the tassets the King didn’t have on. Despite the absence of gloves his arms were protected with a vambrace and then a rerebrace. The tubular piece of armor locked under the prominent sculpted pauldrons at the shoulders worn by the other knights as well.
The king mounted Nightsilver and immediately spotted Mamercus loitering ten meters from the entrance near several palace guards. Lucius clicked his tongue to get the horse moving and rode near the group of men. Dosser, Placus and Goff were also present near the Centurion of Slingers.
“My lord,” Mamercus saluted. “We heard the ruckus and followed Marianus. What happened?”
Lucius stared at the guards and then at the legion veterans. “I’m looking for a bad woman,” he told Mamercus and the Centurion nodded.
“We borrowed some of Mede’s horses’ sir,” Mamercus said.
“Follow me and the knights,” Lucius replied with a grimace. “Mister Dosser I understand you are still on medical leave. You can sit this one out if you wish.”
“The Dottore counseled… exercise and clean air milord.” Dosser rustled through his stitched mouth and chin. “We sort of slacked today.”
“Get to your horses then,” a deeply moved Lucius yielded and turned on the saddle to face his knights. “Sir Valgus you are with me. Sir Sabinus you’ll take the rest of the knights and see to check all the gates. North, South and West. Sir Musa and Sir Tadius you’ll go with him as well.” Lucius paused seeing Logan getting out of the palace’s main entrance and strolling towards them.
By the grace of the Allgods!
“Red asked…” Logan whirred with difficulty afore his voice gave out, the sound coming out drowned and hoarse, barely audible over the noise of the men and the nervous clopping of the horses.
Yeah, the King thought pursing his mouth. I love you Faye but your stubbornness can be maddening at times.
With his face contorting in a grimace of frustration Lucius cursed under his breath and then turned to the grim-faced Sir Valgus. “Find a horse for Mister Logan my good knight. He’s coming with us also.”
“Where to your majesty?” Sir Musa asked.
“Salonius Emporium,” Lucius replied trying to keep his mind focused on the task at hand and nothing else.
Start there and see where the search will lead us.
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The king’s procession reached Salonius Emporium. Several other groups of armed guards also patrolled the dark streets mainly those alerted by Percival Gaeta to close the capital’s many gates, while notably near the junction formed by the Merchant’s Guild, the King’s Baths and the Artisan District -what the people called ‘Salonius Corner’- a group of armed disciples had coalesced at the boulevard’s east side slate-tiled pavement.
The ‘Pilgrims of the South Coast’, a militant religious order dedicated to god Tyeus founded by Fabio Crassus –a Lesia citizen- but differing from the knightly Order of Tyeus which the King was a member of. While the latter order was favored by prominent Lorians, Issirs and of course noble scions that were interested to further their training as knights both spiritually and in weapons, the majority of the ‘Pilgrims’ were mostly lower-class citizens that looked to gain access to arms in general and often called Tyeus’ ‘foot soldiers’.
Apparently a good number of the Pilgrims of the South Coast –usually camping in nature outside of the cities- were there to guard Grand Disciple Ventor, the High Priest of Tyeus, who had been invited to marry Cartagen’s rich Mayor’s -Paulus Messor- youngest daughter Anastasia, sister of Sir Mauro Messor –the Mayor’s third son- who had ridden with Sir Sabinus’ group of knights towards the city’s West Gates. Famously the Messor family had married a prominent Lesia maiden, a Napoli from Sava, around a hundred years ago and some of their names had that Flauegran flavor.
Lucius ordered Mamercus to ask the members of the ‘Pilgrims’ to stay away from Salonius Emporium, one of the three large buildings the rich Salonius family owned on top of their villa that started behind the Emporium in that same corner of the Artisan District, and also ask a Disciple he spotted amongst them to coordinate with Gaeta’s guards that were out in full force. Despite all the commotion in the semi-dark streets the large city had slowly gone back to sleep, with some of its border districts not even aware of the unfolding drama.
By the time the King returned to his now split up in smaller groups entourage, Sir Valgus had ridden to the Emporium’s door and back. The knight informed him that the place was locked up for the night and appeared empty. Lucius headed for the shop’s manager adjoined residence next, followed by Sir Valgus, Sir Acilius Musa (who had stayed with them), the returning Centurion (of Slingers) Mamercus Sorex, the armed with a sword burly Disciple (a priest) of Tyeus Nicetius and four Pilgrims, plus the scowling Logan ‘Gray’ Barret, the maimed Centurion (of Rangers) Dosser, ‘Blind’ Goff and the also scarred Placus. The latter had ‘deflected a blade wit his face’ according to Dosser ‘a lack of judgement in retrospect sir born out of confusion’ after the sword had hacked through Placus’ borrowed shield.
“King Lucius,” the clad in grey robes over a long chainmail shirt Nicetius greeted Lucius in a deep voice whilst the King waited for Sir Valgus to rouse Percy. The knight was banging on Percy’s apartment complex external doors with the pommel of his drawn longsword. “My father had served under yours in the war-bands rebellion. Heard quite a number of stories in my youth about the late king and yourself my Lord,” Nicetius said in a friendly tone.
Lucius had kept the details of the recent mayhem to a minimum even among his own people.
“Is he still around?”
“He passed away last month.” The brawny Disciple replied sadly. “He was strong as a bull but started coughing one day and it did him in.”
The tensed Lucius stared at the bearded priest’s face. The man was still in his late twenties. “Nicetius. Yeah I remember the name. He was Centurion under Prefect Germanicus but over our Arminus in the First Legion’s supply train.”
“Aye my Lord,” Nicetius agreed. “I hear young Arminus still serves?”
“Whilst younger than your late father, Arminus is not that young anymore. He still serves though. He signed for a second term under late Legatus Ligur. He’s now the First Legion’s Quartermaster and Keeper of the Purse under Legatus Merenda.” Lucius elucidated and glanced at the perturbed Sir Valgus examining a small axe Placus had offered him to use on the sturdy closed doors. He opened his mouth to scold the legionnaire but the left sheet of the door opened at that point and a young half-naked man appeared at the entrance covered in a loosely tied female-type chiton.
“What…?” The about twenty years old man, made to protest but immediately froze seeing the towering helmed Sir Valgus standing outside the door with a drawn sword in one hand and wielding an axe with the other. The stitched diagonally across the face Placus grinned unnervingly just behind the knight’s left shoulder in a failed attempt to calm the young man down.
When that failed he let out a panicked scream and went to close the door but Sir Valgus kicked it in stopping him. The heavy oaken door smacked the young man in the forehead with a bang and tossed him backwards inside the entrance of the three story building. The roofed entrance led to an internal garden, which each apartment had access to.
“Good grief! Antius are you alright dear?” Someone cried sounding worried and an older man also wearing a blue chiton –though in the classic Lorian male cut- appeared to help the dazed Antius from the stone-tiled floor. Then he saw Sir Valgus stepping inside and recoiled before standing up with a frown. “This is private property sir!”
“We are looking for Percy,” Sir Valgus rustled and Placus who had come through the door right after him got a large dagger out to apparently scratch at the side of his neck with a leer. “He’s the manager of Salonius Emporium.”
“That’s me,” Percy snapped but then grimaced in distress seeing Dosser also enter and coming to stand next to Placus. “What is this about? Good sirs the hour is shockingly late,” he added in a more accommodating manner.
“We’re looking for a girl that works at the store,” Sir Valgus started and paused as they didn’t really know much more about her at that point.
“Several do. Two at the front. Verania and Vita,” Percy replied finding some of his footing and even spared a glance at the shaken Antius as if to reassure him he’ll handle this.
“We are searching for a girl my Lord?” Nicetius queried. He was standing next to the mounted Lucius about four meters outside the door. They could listen to the animated conversation relatively easy though.
Lucius nodded once with his head leaving it vague and Nicetius walked past him to enter Percy’s apartment complex as well. Several of the other tenants had heard the ruckus at the entrance and had gotten out of their apartments to watch from the internal balconies. Everyone here is working for Salonius, Lucius thought.
“Vita?” Sir Valgus queried after Percy finished. “Where is she now?”
“She has a place here,” Percy explained and glanced at the sober burly, fully robed Disciple walking slowly, hands locked behind his back, whilst examining the garden and the people watching from their balconies. “Ehem… I don’t think she returned.”
“She didn’t,” a pretty blond woman called from the first floor.
“Verania lives next door to her,” Percy elucidated. “Why are you looking for her? Something happened at the palace? Vita is good friends with the Queen.”
Lucius frowned at the detail and tried to remember where he’d heard the name before.
“I doubt that,” Sir Valgus commented and then smacked his lips frustrated. “You wish to speak to him further my Lord?” He asked turning towards the watching from outside the open doors and still on his horse Lucius.
“Is that…?” Percy mumbled losing his words and stepped forward to better see the mounted King. “Goodness me… King Lucius! Allgods… your Majesty,” he squawked with a deep bow of the head.
He knows nothing, Lucius decided.
“We need to find Vita Mister Percy,” Lucius informed him solemnly just as Nicetius asked out of the blue the still rubbing at his forehead Antius.
His tone disinterested and half-casual, his dark-green eyes on the man’s hairless legs and naked thighs. This would be a very short tunic even for a port harlot, Lucius thought a little disturbed listening to the Disciple’s query.
“Do you live here lad or are you visiting?”
“Eh. No, I came to see Master Percy. I’m a client,” the discomforted Antius replied and stepped back from the imposing Disciple. Nicetius took another forward step to narrow the gap between again.
“And decided to stay the night? For what reason?” He asked in that same half-casual tone.
It was evident that the priest was faking at politeness.
Antius made to take another backwards step but Nicetius reached to grab him by the shoulder with a large hand.
“Come clean lad. You’re not here just to try on dresses,” he urged the panicking Antius. “Mind you that’s nauseating also.”
“That’s enough Nicetius,” Lucius ordered and the Disciple turned to look at the King a little surprised. “We’re moving on.”
“My Lord,” Nicetius protested a little confused. “I know we’re looking for a wayward girl but this man is clearly a crossdressing cinaedus. Why, he smells of lavender! That’s a male whore sire. A deadly sin!”
A chorus of gasps and murmurs came from the crowed balconies overlooking the unfolding scene. Percy looked like he’d just swallowed a carafe of undiluted laudanum and Antius let out a small cry of fear almost collapsing to his knees but for Nicetius steely grip on his shoulder.
“Not deadly. Ten lashes if caught by a priest of Tyeus or a year of penance if confessed to a priest of Uher,” Lucius corrected him.
“Brother Buck can finish him off with just eight lashes my Lord. He got a good arm on him,” Nicetius haggled and the stout Pilgrim named Buck grinned proudly.
“No lashing,” a solemn Lucius ordered and stared at the ogle-eyed devastated Percy austerely. “Seek penance Mister Percy,” he warned. “And stay away from the palace,” Lucius turned to glare at the pale and sniffling Antius. “Find shame at the time of the acts and not when your transgressions are exposed. Get out of my sight.”
“What now sir?” Mamercus asked whilst a dazed Antius managed to leg it out of the building after receiving a hard cuff on the back of the head from Nicetius that brought him to his knees initially.
“Sir Musa,” Lucius said turning to look at the young knight. “You were visiting your mother and came in late. Did you notice this Vita exiting?”
“Only Baron Nattas’ carriage passed through the gates after dark my liege,” Sir Musa replied. “The guards there told us he had a driver and a… Issir-looking aide with him.”
“Half-breed,” Sir Valgus expounded upon returning to his horse.
Why would Storm… Lucius pursed his mouth thoughtfully. He could wait for the men looking around the city to locate the girl but Cartagen was a big city, with more exits and even more places or towns to hide nearby. If she managed to slip away from them then Vita could well turn into another Laudus.
“Did they search the carriage?” Lucius grunted.
“My Lord, the Baron is well-known. Visits regularly still. More so during your father’s, your brother’s and the Queen Regent’s reign. He even lived here for a while serving as Shield,” Sir Valgus reminded Lucius.
That’s a no then, Lucius thought and stared at the east street that continued past the Artisan District into the Merchant’s much larger rich neighborhood. Nattas’ lavish villa was the first building one encountered right at the border of the city’s heart. Where the White District, the Artisan District and Merchant District converged.
“Sir Valgus we’re riding to the Baron’s villa. Nicetius stay here and keep company to Mister Percy just in case we need him. We’ll return if we learn something useful.”
Ten minutes later
Nattas Villa
Cartagen, 4th of Secundus 195 NC
An hour after midnight
The dark-skinned half-breed opened one of the outer gates and pushed it open. He then walked some distance away from the tall iron gates, planted the heel of a fancy cane on the flat-stone tiles leading to the villa’s entrance and watched the knights enter. First Sir Valgus with Sir Musa pausing to push the other door open as well with his horse.
Lucius followed at a slow trot but stopped the neighing Nightsilver when Sir Valgus halted to speak with the strangely disfigured half-breed. A side of his face semi-paralyzed or not fully healed seemingly from an old stroke.
“Where is Lord Nattas?” Sir Valgus queried brusquely while Mamercus brought his horse next to the King’s and asked with an awed voice looking at the nicely lit-up with a row of strange torches path through the garden, the well-maintained plants and the even more lavish dark pink and white marble façade of the two-story large villa about fifty meters away.
“Our Baron has a plaguing impressive place here sir.”
Lucius nodded. “It’s not the White District but that’s a right expensive marble to use. The pink too dark to be from Goldwall Peaks, almost red. Maybe it’s the lighting but it almost matches the descriptions about the Khan’s Seregon Palace in Rin An-Pur. The bloodstone marble of Eplas. It would make importing it insanely costly.”
“Aha. What’s wrong with the torches?” Mamercus asked but Lucius signaled for him to be quiet so he could follow the conversation.
“He’s waiting?” Sir Valgus grunted.
“I’ll head there Sir Valgus,” the man replied. “You’ll arrive first of course.”
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“What’s your name?” Lucius asked hoarsely as he’d seen him before, not as aged or disfigured. It was over six years back now. The man had delivered Lucius the news that his brother Ralph had been killed in the tourney’s final in 188 NC. More like had been sent by Nattas to make certain a much younger Lucius didn’t lash out in anger against the late king Antoon or the vile Prince Radin.
A day the desolate Lucius didn’t want to recall at that moment or ever.
“Answer the King,” Sir Musa snapped from atop his horse.
“I’m Lotus Sudi. The Baron’s chief associate,” the man replied with a grimace and looked at Lucius. “My King, we have met afore.”
“We have Mister Sudi,” Lucius agreed. “It’s been a while.”
“Indeed sire.”
“Lead the way Mister Sudi,” Lucius said evenly and gave the reins to Mamercus. “We’ll follow you on foot.”
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Storm was standing at the top of a flight of stairs before the entrance of the villa but climbed down the few steps with the help of an even fancier engraved metallic cane, which got a comment out of Mamercus who walked next to the King just behind the two leading knights. Dosser had stayed at the entrance with Placus and Goff to guard their horses.
“That’s a lot of wealthy cripples livin’ in this place. The Consul’s kid married well.”
“My good knights, to what—” Nattas started, clad in a nice green and gold long tunic with a pair of dark pants underneath. Not a sleeping attire.
“The king is here chief,” Sudi cut him off rudely and Nattas clenched his teeth into a strained smile until he located Lucius when the two knights stepped aside opening the way.
“King Lucius,” the Baron gasped raspingly, his voice breaking, but quickly managed to find his footing. “I’m moved to tears of joy at the sight of your glorious stature your majesty. Let me wake the servants and prepare a feast for you.”
“I don’t have time for that,” Lucius grunted.
“No feast your grace. Banish the thought of my words,” Nattas retorted a touch of nervousness in his voice.
“Who else is here Storm?” Lucius asked and looked at the shorter Baron that had stopped with his body leaning left to rest his weight on the cane.
“My daughter, her husband and my grandson. They are resting but we can wake them up if you wish to see them your grace. Some sleeping servants also. I give them half the day off to save on wages,” Nattas replied sucking at his teeth. “I’m working on the Novesium problem and sleep eluded me.”
Lucius glanced at the staring at the strange torches from up close Mamercus. Then returned his eyes on the alarmed Baron. “We lost little Alistair,” the king said and Mamercus snapped his head towards him, whilst a tick appeared on Nattas’ right eye briefly.
“My deepest condolences… my Lord,” the Baron said carefully sounding saddened but also unsure. “I heard the bells earlier…” he paused and pursed his mouth.
“A woman poisoned him,” Lucius explained hoarsely. “The Queen and his sister. They survived but my son didn’t.”
Nattas usually tanned skin had turned pale, appearing sick at the news. He cast a side glance at the grim-looking Sudi that kept moving his jaw as if to prevent it from locking up.
“You are looking for a woman,” the Baron said slowly as if the notion was too hard to believe and a sullen Mamercus was heard from the king’s right side.
“I’m very sorry sire.”
“Let the Baron speak Mamercus,” Lucius rustled tiredly, staring at Nattas who seemed to have trouble getting the words out. Sudi’s eyes had almost popped out of their sockets and looked even more devastated than the discomforted Baron. “She was at the palace. Left about the time you did,” Lucius continued and despite the night chill, sweat rivulets appeared on Nattas’ forehead he quickly wiped with the open palm of his hand, the large silver pin on the left side of the Baron’s chest gleaming in the light of the torches.
The Nattas family crest was a squid, very close to the Vanzon black iron crest but in silver, and the Baron only lately had started displaying it more prominently given his rise in status.
“I gave a ride to a priestess,” Nattas finally said in a solemn voice. “She was leaving the palace grounds on foot. I had no idea…” He stared at the grim-faced Lucius. “Her name is Vita. A former priestess of Naossis.”
Lucius stood back at the detail.
The knights gasped in surprise.
Sudi cursed Luthos under his breath.
“What?” Mamercus grunted half-confused half-accusingly. “You got her out of the palace?”
Nattas glared at him. “I offered to return her home. She works for Salonius now. Her words.” Lucius opened his mouth to admonish the Baron but the alert Storm quickly added. “I know where she is.”
“You do?” Lucius grunted.
“She asked my driver to drop her off at Solon’s District. Behind the Hippodrome almost,” Nattas elucidated tensely. “The Temple has a large building there but she’s probably in an adjoined villa bought by the Vidrix family. She’s with Juliana Vidrix your grace.”
The Vidrix were a family of Lorians that lived mostly in Valeria for centuries.
“Flavia,” Lucius murmured trying to piece together what had happened but failing to see the reason behind such a senseless act. Nattas grimaced and then shook his head looking miserable.
“My king I had no idea what she was up to,” he confessed. “I’ve met her in Islandport. She was helping the wounded at Sula’s camp. This is shocking news to me.”
“Is there a way for her to leave the city tonight?” A solemn Lucius asked.
“Only through the west walls tunnels,” Storm replied readily. The smugglers secret route is apparently common knowledge, Lucius thought sourly. “Heading north or to Cartaport is also an option but she wouldn’t risk it with the gates watched. Your grace I don’t believe she’s capable of an elaborate escape without help.”
“She’s capable enough.” Lucius grunted.
Especially if Flavia is behind this.
He could feel a wave of rage coming. It was fueled by Lucius’ failure to understand the priestess’ motive. Why do this? Lucius gave a nod to the frowned Nattas and Storm returned it. Determined not to let the killer escape, the king turned around without another word to march to the gates where they had left their horses, leaving the stunned Sudi and the silent Nattas back. He realized halfway there that Nattas’ family crest did resemble a Kraken in retrospect.
The Kraken knows, Leirda had said and Lucius had thought the strange girl was speaking of Abrakas. How could she have foreseen this? Does she know the Baron?
Who are you then Leirda?
“She was right… again,” the King murmured upon reaching his horse and taking the reins from Dosser but he didn’t have the time to dwell on that mystery also.
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> Goddess is a forgiving mother.
>
> Yearns of a touch hidden in a pray
>
> Spurns it like a piece of skin ye flay
>
> Goddess prays for those led astray
>
> Cleanses the soul n’ drags the sleigh…
>
> …out of sorrow’s way.
>
> “You went to see Monica,” Flavia said and lifted the sobbing Vita’s chin to gaze into her eyes. “Had I not decreed why thou shouldn’t?”
>
> “It was a mistake Augusta,” Vita sniffled. “Please forgive me.”
>
> “Did she welcome you back?”
>
> “Alas, her heart has turned to bitter black earth,” Vita hissed. “The tiger corrupted her away from the goddess—”
>
> She stopped short of finishing with a cry of pain as Flavia had released her chin and delivered a hard slap with an open palm on the right side of Vita’s face.
>
> “The King is allied with the temple. A Goddess anointed their union. Our Goddess,” Flavia reminded her calmly, whilst waiting for Vita to assume her prostrated position before her feet and then raise her flushed face to look at the High Priestess with swollen eyes. “Now a naughty banished priestess decided to meddle with divine plans? Is that it?”
>
> “Augusta,” Drusilla intervened. “We can’t fault her heart’s desire. She truly loves her.”
>
> “Our hearts belong to the Goddess,” Flavia retorted austerely. “Did you think I send her away for another reason? We perform but we do not belong to either man or woman. Favoring the latter Drusilla doesn’t make it more valuable or worthy of an exception.” Flavia paused and touched the burning cheek of Vita. “Augusta Leda was a rare beauty. Everyone desired her. A fabled High Priestess. Men, women and beasts sought to conquer her fully. Leda might had given her body to all but she fought hard to keep her heart out of it. She worked for this temple for as long as she could. The moment her heart faltered she stepped down. She could have pretended otherwise, make exception for herself but she didn’t. People and the Sisters would have forgiven her but the Goddess watches us and she knows our heart’s desires.”
>
> “It was Monica who seduced her,” Drusilla argued.
>
> “Away from you? Daughter you believe I’m stupid? It’s why I’ve taken Vita away from you initially. Why I don’t allow you to serve women. We don’t do as we prefer but as the Temple commands! We are priestesses of Naossis not a coven of failed harlots seeking pleasure instead of coin in Asturia!”
>
> “I wish to go to Eplas,” Vita whispered sounding defeated. Flavia pursed her lips and retracted her numb hand from the young woman’s burning and moist cheek.
>
> “What else happened?” Flavia asked looking at the 2nd Idole’s face. “Did you have a fight?”
>
> “Monica has too much to lose to pursue this publicly,” Drusilla argued. “Please just send her to Sister Tricia.”
>
> “What was this bit that I can’t know about?” Flavia queried raising her voice.
>
> “She called her hypocrisy out,” Drusilla replied with downcast eyes.
>
> “Is that all that happened?” Flavia asked the knelt woman as she understood that Drusilla just repeated what Vita had told her.
>
> Vita nodded.
>
> “You are lying,” Flavia decided knowing both girls too well. “How big is the lie I wonder?” She added looking at Drusilla’s face.
>
> “She can leave within a day with one of the Cofol merchants. Hidden amidst his slaves as one of them. No one searches slaves here. They fear them.” Drusilla suggested.
>
> Whoa. You girls have a plan laid out already.
>
> “You’ll serve as a slave?” Flavia asked Vita. “Polish a man’s cock every day and every night. Used as a pet to be shared with his friends? Um? How angry was the Queen dear Vita?”
>
> “It doesn’t matter,” Vita whispered. “If I’m to blame then she is as well.”
>
> No one blames a Queen but a King stupid child.
>
> “Augusta,” Drusilla pleaded but Flavia waved them away.
>
> “I need to think about it,” she told her. “Have Laila and Acqer brought here,” Flavia ordered and then called for Brigitte to warm up her pool again. She was supposed to sleep and wake up early to oversee the construction in the adjoining temple but Flavia reluctantly opted not to make any decision before talking to the Queen in person.
>
>
>
> -
>
> Two hours later the High Priestess had all but fallen asleep in an armchair, her arms still stretched on the small vanity table to wait for her painted nails to dry and her nape hurting from the uncomfortable position.
>
> It was the middle of the night. Closer to morning than not.
>
> Her villa was supposed to be extra silent being as it was near the outer walls of the large city and away from Cartagen’s busiest parts during the night. During the day and when the Hippodrome housed races nothing was further from the truth.
>
> “Lady Domina,” Brigitte whispered softly standing inside her quarters. “Are you awake?”
>
> Flavia stared herself in the mirror afore answering. The face looking back that of a stunning older woman that slowly left her prime behind. The time to retire is near but it isn’t here yet, Flavia decided.
>
> “What is this noise?” She asked Brigitte and the mostly Issir female bowed her white head.
>
> “We have visitors.”
>
> “The Temple isn’t open yet,” Flavia argued and stood up with a pained groan as her legs had gone numb and the flesh was tingling. “Goddess.”
>
> “They are in the villa,” Brigitte elucidated and the Augusta frowned. She quickly tied back her messy blond hair and closed the front of her loose yellow chiton with a four-finger wide blue silk sash.
>
> Eagerness is to be commended I suppose? Goodness me, Flavia griped with a quick prayer. Praised be the will of the Goddess.
>
> “Who is it?” Flavia asked following after Brigitte inside the villa’s roofed internal pool area. The wiry Acqer Crug entered from the doors leading to the entrance just as her pupil/daughter answered.
>
> “The King’s people.”
>
> It took a brief moment for Flavia to register Brigitte’s words fully and by that time a heavily armed Northern brute had followed after the temple’s assassin, then what appeared to be a Disciple of Tyeus of all cursed things and right after them, a grim-faced Lucius Alden himself. The King of Regia looked older than a week ago and those now hollowed-out famous eyes revealed that something a bit more serious had happened.
>
> The aroused wife had a talk with the King about introducing more varied partners. The other wife perhaps? Um. The Augusta supposed only half-jesting as it had happened afore with other less prominent couples, with mixed results. I reckon it didn’t go well?
>
> And of course it was way worse than she could possibly imagine.
-
Three hours after midnight
Villa Vidrix
Solon District (Hippodrome)
Cartagen
“King Lucius,” the fine-looking even in her disheveled state Flavia greeted him warmly, placing a hand over her mouth in surprise. The Augusta stood barefooted on the moist polished black marble –rather slippery- tiles near the three-by-four meters lavish Lorian bath. “The fair Goddess’ guided your path to our humble abode?”
“Vita did,” Lucius rustled trying to keep his anger under control desperately. “Where is the vile murderer? I have no patience left for decorum Augusta!”
Flavia’s face paled at his aggressive tone and her posture deflated unable to combat the shock. A small gasp escaped her lips and signaled for the coiled Acqer to stand down. “Who did Vita murder Lucius?” She asked soberly under the heavy-breathing of a panicked dark-skinned priestess with white hair.
“My son,” Lucius grunted hoarsely. “Little Alistair. I left his cold body in the palace to hunt the vile witch down!”
“Dear gods,” Flavia whispered looking haunted and she stumbled on her feet greatly affected.
“Where is she? We know she came here,” Lucius asked raising his voice.
The stunned Augusta grasped at the base of her neck as if she had difficulty breathing or speaking. But she did answer with a ghostly voice. “Vita is here.”
“Search the villa,” Lucius ordered his men but Flavia stopped them stepping in from of the knights and the veteran rangers. Nicetius’ Pilgrims had also entered and the large empty –but for the lavish pool-sized bath- hall now appeared crowded.
“Acqer bring Vita here,” Flavia ordered the silent man of northern origins.
“Augusta.” Acqer argued with a worried glance at the many armed men standing near them.
“We’ll be fine.” Flavia assured him and turned to the scowling Lucius. “Is the King certain it was her doing?”
“Queen Monica was poisoned alongside my baby daughter and a lady in waiting,” Lucius snapped. “You’ll look for excuses? Did you know of this?”
“I mourn for your unfair loss,” Flavia retorted sounding hurt. “Why would I ever turn against you Lucius?”
“You serve a whore, incest-loving Goddess, a temptress and daughter of a witch,” Nicetius accused her harshly and Flavia’s face distorted in anger.
“I serve a Goddess none-the-less. Your god who shares that same witch mother, bathes in the blood of our realm’s youth, relishes the carnage of war and walks fields littered with rotting corpses whistling paeans with a sick smile on his face!”
“Hah, close thy harlot’s lying mouth for yer breath reeks of cock,” Nicetius clapped back dismissively.
“Praised be the fucking Five,” Mamercus commented wryly and both priests glared at him. The Centurion made a face and shrugged his shoulders indifferently.
“That’s enough!” Lucius snapped at the petty bickering and hearing footsteps approach, followed by loud cries and curses, he turned towards a side exit. Acqer returned dragging a screaming blond girl by the arm, another very-pretty blond priestess following after them dousing the solemn-faced man with insulting epithets. A third older woman also appeared, wearing leather armour under her dark-cream temple’s robes and stood by the side exit’s door. She crossed her arms and stared at Lucius entourage.
“Drusilla stand back damn you,” Flavia ordered, her voice strained and lacking her usual sensual undertone.
Lucius dark blue eyes were piercing the crying young girl’s skull. The king’s fists clenching and unclenching with barely-controlled fury.
“Vita the King brought some horrifying accusations—” Flavia started but never got the chance to finish.
“WHY?” Lucius roared furious. He walked past Sir Valgus and Nicetius towards the two women. Acqer had dropped Vita to Flavia’s feet. The wiry man made to lower his right arm to his sword belt upon seeing the angry King approach threateningly but Logan, who had somehow covered the distance between the two groups without anyone noticing him, whacked the hand away with the flat of his drawn bastard-sword blade.
The loud smack cut Vita’s cries and Drusilla’s protests short.
“Um.” The scowling Logan half-growled half-murmured incoherently. A clear threat that Acqer was about to lose the whole arm next, the also surly Acqer received and took a step back.
“SPEAK!” Lucius barked and grabbed the deflated Vita’s elbow to lift her up.
“Goddess mercy Augusta!” Drusilla cried seeing Lucius manhandle the young woman. “That savage will kill her!”
“Lucius,” Flavia pleaded hoarsely. “Your grace, were there witnesses to the act?”
Lucius shook Vita like a ragdoll a couple of times to make her talk and then turned to glare at the tensed Flavia.
“You think I’m lying over this? Are you insane? My innocent boy is dead! Monica named her!”
Nattas and Percy did but it was the same thing. She was the last to leave the room.
“What if she lied?” The distressed Flavia argued but Vita’s voice replied before Lucius backhanded the insolent high-priestess.
“It was me,” Vita croaked and gargled desperately when the maddened Lucius’ left arm released her elbow to immediately snatch her by the throat. He started pressing at the soft flesh, teeth grinding maniacally and feverish eyes filled with lust for retribution.
> “Oh, I know who you are,” a young Zofia of Ludr said getting up, her face suddenly serious. “Sir Lucius Alden, heir to the Kingdom of Regia. Lord Cardinal of Alden. Famous ‘bloody tiger of the South’ and slayer of pregnant women.”
It was never real. Just a cruel political maneuver by my father put forth to save my pride. The whole thing a tragic mistake built on a lie. Lucius had never killed a man or woman who hadn’t tried to kill him first. Vita hadn’t tried to kill him but she had attacked his family and murdered his two-year old son. The thought of Alistair ravaged his heart but the King released his grip on Vita. The young woman collapsed to her knees white as a sheet and coughing violently. A grim silence had fallen upon the open-spaced hall despite the small crowd of people gathered around him.
“Why?” Lucius asked again tiredly and realized his right hand was gripping the pommel of Endariel as if ready to unsheathe the ancient Imperial sword.
“You don’t even remember me. A conqueror’s stare never sees those crashed under his feet or by his actions,” Vita muttered and tried to stand on rubbery legs without success. “I loved Monica long before you ever appeared. For years. I never wanted to hurt her babies. Didn’t even intent to hurt her… but then she turned away from me because of you!”
“Ah!” Nicetius bristled in righteous disgust. “There! The vileness spills out alike vomit!”
Lucius licked his dry lips, the anger returning twofold. “You are sleeping with my wife?” He asked hoarsely.
“This is a priestess house,” Flavia reminded him. “Anointed by the Temple King Lucius. The Goddess forbids violence.”
“Yet violence Naossis has permitted,” Lucius bitterly retorted with a side-glance. “Upon my wife and children. Murder. Among other vile acts of debauchery.”
“Sir,” a tensed Sir Valgus cried out. “The Queen is innocent. Sir Gregor shall vouch for this or fall on his sword!”
“There is nothing to plaguing discuss,” Nicetius argued sounding very frustrated. “The vile wench is a murderess with filthy habits whether imaginary or not. A murderer caught in the act deserves swift punishment my lord!”
“Augusta,” Drusilla begged the frowned Flavia and made to run near her but Acqer moved to block her path with his body. “You promised her protection!”
“I need an answer woman,” Lucius pressured the shaking Vita that had managed to stand on her two feet, her skin the color of sheer alabaster.
“We didn’t sleep together since before your wedding,” Vita confessed in a low voice. “I ask for the benevolent king’s forgiveness. My love for her blinded me,” she added with a trembling voice as if sensing the tables had turned on her.
“Mother, for Goddess’ love!” Drusilla cried desperately fighting with Acqer to free herself without success.
“You plead for mercy but my son drowned in his own blood. Never given the same courtesy. The love you profess brought deadly poison into my home,” Lucius argued in a serene voice, too worn-out and sad to continue the charade for much longer. “Had I been a simple man, I’d ask the Gods and human courts for retribution. Such vile act… I can’t even begin to fathom what you would have done, if you despised her instead.” He added tiredly shaking his head.
“It was a mistake!” Drusilla screamed. “Show mercy King Lucius! Please, oh gods no!”
“Control yourself!” A furious Flavia snapped at the younger priestess. “Or rid us of your presence!”
“But I’m the King of Regia,” Lucius continued now in a sober voice. “My home, the nation’s palace. Lucius might be generous even to his enemies if they deserve it. Forgiving, because he’ll never spill more blood needlessly but Regia isn’t. Can’t be. You spilled royal blood Vita in a heinous manner. Nicetius what is the punishment for poisoners?”
“Fed poison then have their mouths stitched afore buried alive my Lord,” Nicetius droned.
Flavia grimaced at his words.
“What about for those murdering children?” A saddened and finally feeling the full weight of the horrible loss he’d just suffered Lucius asked raspingly.
“Hanged my Lord. Cut down to size?” Nicetius offered a little unsure.
“A member of the royal family?”
“Hanged, drawn and quartered, then left to the elements,” Nicetius recited from memory and glanced at the burly Buck who seemed equally knowledgeable on the matter as well, since he nodded once in glumly agreement.
“Make it fast your grace,” Flavia pleaded and knelt near the shaking Vita to hug her tight with both arms. “Your man carries a big blade,” the Augusta added over the inconsolable Drussila’s moans of despondency and the young Issir priestess loud cries for mercy. She pointed at the still wearing the same scowl Logan who had the drawn sword still in his hand. “I beg of you. I’ve watched her grow up,” Flavia’s voice cracked overcome with emotion and tears welled in her eyes then run down her face.
Mamercus looked away and some of the Pilgrims scrunched their faces unsure, while the rest of those present remained rather disinterested at the raw emotion the usually controlled and proud Flavia had just displayed.
Lucius knew this side of the High Priestess and he believed she truly cared for Vita.
But in his mind King Alistair’s cold gaze came to rest on Lucius from atop Regia’s stone throne, his father’s wrinkled mouth crooked on one side as he waited in judging silence for his son’s decision.
There was never doubt about the outcome.
A murderer kills himself upon committing the act, Regia’s law declared. The sentence only overturned by the king’s grace on rare occasions.
This wasn’t one of those occasions.
Not by a long shot.
“Young Alistair drowned in his own blood. I watched him in stunned disbelief fade away, slowly losing the fight. My sweet little boy, his unblemished skin riddled with black spots. A father should never have to face this kind of torture. A young boy shouldn’t also but poor Alistair did,” he rustled gravely and Drusilla collapsed in Acqer’s arms while Flavia stood up with her head hanged to walk away from the delirious with fear Vita. “And thou shall as well.”
He turned to the tensed Sir Valgus but the Disciple of Tyeus stepped forward. “My Lord,” Nicetius said solemnly. “Let us deliver the King’s justice.”
“Return the favor,” Lucius ordered coldly, not really feeling anything for the shaking Vita other than contempt. “And drown her in the pool until she breathes no more.”
-
> And so young Vita finally got to find in a sense her peace in the fair Goddess’ waters. A senseless act of violence brought a gruesome end to her short miserable life. Alistair Alden, second of his name, the only son of King Lucius with Queen Monica, was murdered inside Cartagen’s Palace in the second month of winter, the year of the New Calendar 195. He just had his second name day, three weeks prior and was entombed inside the ‘Palace of a hundred windows’ next to Lucius’ mother Queen Vacia. The beautiful selected plot of land, part of the west garden’s orchard, the late Queen had built during her lifetime.
>
> Young Alistair’s murder destroyed the young Queen and it would take years to find herself again, which purportedly caused great harm to her fragile surviving daughter Princess Vacia at a time when she needed Queen Monica the most. Having met the young princess in many occasions I sense no weakness in her at all or fragility, so I dismiss the rumors as tasteless gossip.
>
> A rattled and grieving Lucius had to navigate the sudden calamity, restore the people’s spirits and keep the true details of the murder a tight-lipped secret for years to protect the rest of his family. While some rumors did come out immediately, few were aware of what really happened or who was involved. Events occurring at the same time forced the grieving King’s attention first to the northwest where the brazen Legatus Merenda’s hard-pressed First Legion ‘died twice in a week in order to survive the war’ as Marcus Antonius in his famous prose wrote later in an unofficial correspondence with an Issir noblewoman -rumored former mistress- adding ‘forging close bonds between two foreign peoples that shall last forever’.
>
> Second the resolution of another even more serious but much older murder. It was revealed years later what the full implication of Vita’s senseless act and the justified King’s reaction would be for the realm. As Consul Veturius commented in a private conversation, ‘sometimes a taste of justice can act as a warning to drive the sickness away, others it just won’t and then you are forced to just root out the whole rotten field.’
-
Days later.
A despondent Lucius stood inside the silent, dimly lit throne room, observing the line of mourners slowly departing the palace. He’d spent some time near Alistair’s wrapped-up small body the previous evening but couldn’t bring himself to participate in the ceremonies. The King’s absence was excused by Monica’s illness caused by grief. It had forced Faye to take over the solemn duties of navigating the funeral and taking care of all the surviving children, especially little Vacia.
The girl missed her late brother terribly as they hadn’t really separated at all since birth and her inability to express her feelings left Vacia a crying mess that refused to eat unless forced. Lucius couldn’t offer any assistance to her and spending time near Monica was torture as she had lost her senses. The Queen blamed herself for killing Alistair and much as everyone had tried to convince her otherwise they weren’t successful.
Lucius grimaced and returned to the large conference table. Despite pressing matters, he had cancelled all meetings for the two days that had followed Vita’s final moments. The woman had found her strength upon being submerged in the deep pool’s waters but she couldn’t overcome Buck’s brutal hold. The Pilgrim had kept the thrashing woman’s head under the water until she stopped moving. It took a while and it was brutal to watch and sickening to those present. It offered Lucius no relief at all.
He knew it wouldn’t. Vengeance never did. His mother was right in that. You can’t bring the dead back by balancing the scales. It was a matter of principle. Laws were a deterrent and also a way to remove the sick elements out of society. Vita had planned not to take a no for an answer. A part of Lucius blamed Monica for her weakness. He knew she had lived a baser lifestyle but never really believed it would return to haunt them. His marriage with Faye had altered Lucius earlier pessimistic view of relationships. Alas, it turned out each person was different. His late first wife was too prideful for her own good, and Monica had her own demons to fight with.
“Father,” Roderick’s voice was heard a little subdued, and Lucius let go of a cavalry figurine he held. It dropped back on the open map of Kaltha. The King turned to watch his older son approach, clad in a fancy red redingote with golden details that matched his strange reddish-black hair. “Will Ali wake up on the morrow?”
Lucius’ face distorted and reached to find a chair to sit on. What do you say? What’s the proper way to raise a child in this world? He thought playing with his Order’s ring. The Priests will preach one way, depending on which deity they support. Faye would trust Logan’s brutal Northern logic fearing that the allure of Regia would rob her kids of any trace of the North. His father King Alistair, could only think of Regia in contrast. The good of the realm and he’d raised Lucius that way. All his children. Some hadn’t taken to the late King’s lessons well.
A candid man shan’t fear the future, he decided.
“Your brother is forever gone from us,” Lucius told the silent Roderick and reached to fix his inner shirt’s collar. “He now lives with your grandparents and your uncles beyond our reach.”
“Why did he leave?”
“It wasn’t his own doing,” Lucius replied hoarsely. “One day you’ll be old enough to understand what happened.”
“I want to know now.”
“Hmm. A man knows when to listen, Roderick. When to act. A future king is obligated to pay attention and discard all of his personal wants.” Lucius pursed his mouth. “Little Alistair is gone but you are here,” he added seeing the sullen look on the boy’s face. “You are responsible for your siblings. It’s on you to take care and ensure nothing untoward happens to them henceforth. People say I did well for the country but the sad truth is that I have failed in many a things. I lost a sister and two brothers. Aye. A son in the womb and a son in the cradle. You’ll be better than me. You’ll protect Regia and you’ll protect Vacia and Ralph. Especially your little sister. The burden passes on to you and you must be ready to shoulder it, son.”
“Yes sir,” Roderick muttered, trying to appear brave. “I’ll make certain. You can trust me.”
Lucius stared proudly into the boy’s innocent blue, streaked with bright green, resembling a blend of a regal tiger’s with that of a fierce lioness’ eyes.
A Tigon.
“I believe you, little Tigon,” he told him warmly.
“What’s that, father?” Roderick queried, curious.
Lucius allowed himself a small smile, got up, and placed an arm over the boy’s shoulders to direct him down the corridor leading to the Hall of Kings, located just before the Throne Room.
“A Tigon is a rare, special beast,” Lucius started, recalling his lessons, as they strolled together the empty palace’s hall to visit the statues of Regia’s past kings. “An ancestor of yours that lived before Caesar Lucius, by the name Remus ‘the Brute’, kept a tiger and a lioness….”