Cantate Lamentationem
Urbis Tristae Nostrae
The Senate room was sweltering a mere hour within the proceedings and Justinius felt himself anticipating the arrival of the party he was to attend that night. He barely noticed a squabble that was occurring on the Senate floor over a trade dispute as he contemplated what Ardellius could have meant by “spice” in Virgilus’s parties. It wasn’t until the speaker called out, “Damianus Humilius, here to speak on behalf of Carxandria,” that he was pulled from his reverie and his eyes focused. He glanced toward his father whose calm demeanor contrasted starkly with the pale and clearly nervous expression of Damianus Humilius. He was sweating profusely and looked ready to be sick as he descended the stairs and approached the center floor.
Eyes followed him: angry, uncertain, calm, uninterested…almost none seemed pitying to Justinius save his own. Damianus stood before the Consuls and bowed low. “Consuls”.
He turned to the chamber at large and nodded, “Honored Senators of Aquilla, I come before you with a plea from those who would see the best for both our countries.”
Already, mutters rose from the crowd but the staff cracked loudly against the floor and order was restored. Damianus continued. “My people have always sought to remain a prosperous and free society, upholding the best interests of all and allowing free trade and markets to allow wealth to flow through our lands and into others. We have never even held an official military force, ever relying on mercenaries and volunteer militia to maintain our city and provinces. Since the last war, we have held to the peace agreement and disbanded any armies we hired. We have not attempted to expand our position to regain our lost power and colonies. We wish only to live in peace and prosperity with Aquilla.”
More mutters. Another crack.
“Your soldiers outside our walls are entirely unnecessary. It has been fifteen years since you placed them there, after your last civil war when rumors circulated that the Tyrant had sent an offer of alliance to us. There is still no proof that this offer was ever accepted. Yet your soldiers remain despite the fact that we have done nothing to warrant their presence and have no intentions of aggression. We beg that you allow your men to return home to their farms and homes and leave Carxandria to live in peace and, perhaps, one day establish more friendly and prosperous relations.”
Justinius felt the effect of his final statement. Senators’ voices rose in anger and some even stood to shout accusations. One senator near him said, “There will never be peace between our former oppressors and us!”
Horatius Honerius stared blankly at Damianus but even his stern features showed emotion as his eyebrow raised and his mouth tilted in a skeptical frown. Justinius felt the mistake Damianus had made. The staff cracked on the ground and silence fell. Magnus Conditius sat back in his consul chair and eyed Damianus coldly. “Are you finished?”
Damianus swallowed and shook his head. “One last point to be made. This occupation of our lands by your soldiers is unprofitable for you and hard on your soldiers. They have not seen their homes, families, and farms in over a decade. Some probably don’t even own their land anymore. I suggest an alternative. Allow your soldiers to return home and we will set up a consulate for you on our acropolis. There you will be privy to our councils and aware of much of what is going on politically. We will even allow you to sit on the councils and listen, though not participate save to give Aquilla’s opinion on matters. This is the proposal I put before your senate.”
He bowed to the consuls and then stood firm, his eyes fixed ahead. Magnus raised an eyebrow and nodded. “Thank you, ambassador. But you must face the rebuttal before a vote is made.”
Voices were raised but Magnus, his eyes alighting on a nearby figure, gestured with a small, patronizing smile. “The opposition will be taken up by Alexus Dignius.”
Justinius felt like groaning along with a few of the other senators as the old, highly energetic senator who hated Carxandria most made his way to the center and bowed quickly to the consuls.
“Consuls, honored senators, what this…enemy of our people proposes is impossible.”
Angry murmurs broke out and the staff cracked again. Magnus raised an eyebrow at Alexus. “A little more polite, Senator Alexus. It doesn’t look well for you to call the ambassador our enemy.”
Alexus inclined his head to Magnus, shot Damianus a glare, and then continued. “Our soldiers are there to discourage the Carxandrians from getting any ideas of regaining their former glory. It is not enough that we know what they are doing, we must use fear itself to keep them in line. For we all well know that they claim to be part of that ancient lineage of the Caustilius Empire, the oldest and greatest of man’s empires, and believe they are the inheritors of such greatness! Do you not think such ambition will remain locked within a single city that is bursting with wealth and prosperity? That they will not convince other nations that they are somehow better for the world with their prosperity than the democracy and freedom of the Aquillan Republic?”
He turned on Damianus and pressed his hand to his own chest then threw it out in a claw, a sign of warding off evil. “Let their name be cursed for lording themselves over the free Aquillans.”
A smattering of applause came at this while Justinius gaped. How was this any more polite? Magnus simply nodded to Alexus who returned to his seat, appearing winded from the excitement of his speech. Damianus turned to face the Senate, his face still pale but tight with determination. “If you are concerned about us rising up to take over the Midland sea again, you need not fear. We have few ships and we could not build an army and navy quickly enough without drawing your attention if you had a consulate in our city. Senators, please, you must see that this is the most reasonable option! Not only does it alleviate your concerns as has been so plainly stated by Senator Alexus Dignius, but it does so at very little cost to yourselves and to the benefit of your own people! Surely, a republic, such as Aquilla, always takes the concerns of the people to heart and does what is in their best interests?”
Coconsul Brutus Cadenzius leaned forward and responded gruffly, “It is our duty to do what is best for them, even if they don’t like it.”
This statement brought an uproar from the middle section and Antoninus Registrius led the calls. “How can you call yourself a representative of the people?!”
The staff was cracked and Magnus called out, “Enough, senators!”
Damianus continued, speaking to the Senate, rather than the consuls. His gaze was turned, in particular, toward the lords and toward Horatius Honerius. Justinius, seated beside his father, could almost catch the ambassador's gaze. Damianus had a wild light in his eyes he had not seen before. “Honorable senators, this current path we are on will surely lead us to war. War is an unpleasant affair for the people and it profits them very little in the end. War profits only a few. If you are representatives for the people and truly do what is best for them…is war and armed occupation of a neighboring nation truly best for them? I leave that decision now to the Senate.”
Murmurs. Angry, harsh, sympathetic, thoughtful, agreeable. Justinius felt the wild clashing of emotions building throughout the room. He glanced sideways at his father whose eyes were narrowed, head down, and hand over his mouth as he appeared in deep contemplation. Justinius looked to the speaker of the Senate. Now was the time to call for a vote, he felt sure of it. It might pass, if only by the smallest margin.
Before the speaker could begin, a commotion of shouts and clanging could be heard outside the Senate doors and heads turned in the direction of the double doors. Brutus Cadenzius turned in his seat, irritation clear in his voice. “What is going on?”
The doors crashed open as armed guards in strange garb stormed into the Senate. They had golden-scaled armor surrounded by tough leather straps, their garb was bright orange and they had kaffiyeh around their heads which covered all but their eyes. They wielded spears and curved swords as they held down the Aquillan guards who struggled helplessly in their grasp. Senators stood in alarm, crying out in horror as they suddenly realized they were trapped in a room with armed warriors. Calls for the city guard could be heard as those closest to the door pulled away. The consuls stood from their chairs but didn’t leave their spots as they watched the proceedings unfold.
Justinius felt his heart racing as he suddenly envisioned a room full of butchered senators, blood pooling across the floor and upon the white marble, soaking the cushions. He felt his breath tighten and he found he couldn’t stand though many around him did. His father remained stiff and alert beside him, hands tight by his side. The foreign warriors stood to attention before the Senate doors and silence suddenly pervaded.
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From the double doors, a figure strode in. He had brown skin like the warriors and wore fine garments of silk that were a mixture of tarnished gold, green, and red. His hair was dark and curly, a neatly trimmed beard formed into a point at his chin, and his smile was dazzling as he swept into the chamber as if he was on a social call to the entire Senate. He made his way to the center of the floor, calling out, “I apologize, senators, I would have arrived sooner but…” he gestured down at his garments, “It takes a good deal of time to prepare all of this, and just for you!”
There was a slight accent to his voice. Though his Aquillan was perfect it was clearly not his native language. Damianus backed toward the edge of the floor to give him room as Brutus Cadenzius growled, “Who are you to interrupt the Senate while it is in session?”
The man turned with a swish of robes. “Who? Brutus Cadenzius, how can you not know who I am? Even I know your name, though you are no one of consequence.”
Brutus looked ready to fume and his fellow consul had to place a restraining hand on his shoulder. Magnus bowed slightly. “Prince Nadim, you have not set an appointment with the Senate.”
Prince Nadim paused, his face in a pose of mock surprise before a smile split it again. “Magnus Conditius, I do not make appointments to meet people, it is others who make appointments to see me. And, it is Prince Nadim of the Hazron Dynasty. Full title, please. This is a formal meeting. Now close your mouths and sit down while I address the Senate.”
The two men gaped and sat slowly. Justinius would have laughed at the situation were it not for the line of armed men in the doorway. Prince Nadim looked about and gestured for all to sit. “Come, senators. I have a deal to say and I would not have you stand the whole time.”
The assembly sat slowly and Prince Nadim made a slow turn about the room with his gaze, taking in the building and the senators. He clasped his hands together and let out an appreciative hum. “Your chambers are truly a marvelous work, rayie jidana. You must feel very pleased with yourselves as you decide the fate of your republic from within. Of course, it pales in comparison to the grandeur of Al’Iiliah and its royal palace…but we can’t all be masters.”
A pause and the murmurs of senators could still be heard. It caused a most irritating hum to Justinius and he wished they would cease their chattering and simply listen for once. Prince Nadim continued. “I was resting comfortably in my less than satisfactory lodgings in one of your trading ports on Calidus Island, and what do I hear? That your ambitious nobility has attacked yet another one of our trading ships over some argument of “fair taxation of goods”. When I send my emissary to deal with this matter in the senate and I follow close on his heel, I hear yet more disturbing reports of an arrogant senate ignoring my emissary and slighting him. I would have thought you knew that slighting my emissary who speaks on my behalf is the same as slighting me. So, I hurried here to lend my voice to your beautiful echo chamber to rectify these matters.”
He turned now on the two consuls. “Is it true that you dismissed my man out of hand with a simple…vote?”
Magnus sat tall and proud as he said, “We put it to a vote, as is always done in a republic. We hear the voice of the majority.”
“Oh, of course!” said Prince Nadim, turning away from him again. “I had forgotten how much you Aquillans are fond of your ‘democracy’ and representation of the people. It’s…touching, really. Muqziz jidana.”
Justinius struggled to understand these tidbits of Warathian. It was altogether foreign to him and it seemed few other senators knew what was being said either. The prince continued. “And yet…for all your talk of piety and care for your people, you seem to care very little about them in the long term. What will your people think of you when the wealth and goods of our empire stop flowing into your borders?”
A murmur swept the room and Magnus Conditius’s eyes narrowed. He leaned forward in his seat. “What do you mean, Prince Nadim?”
“Of the…”
“Of the Hazron Dynasty.”
“Good! A straightforward question!” The prince turned to face the assembly of senators and threw his arms open wide. “I have come on the official behalf of my elder brother, Shah Mustafa, greatest in name and wealth, king of kings, may he live forever, to tell the…maghrur Aquillan Republic that our deal…is no more.”
This, finally, caused a great hush to fall across the room as all eyes and ears turned to Prince Nadim. He reveled in it, smiling broadly and laughing as he turned in a circle. “There! That focused your attention, didn’t it! You didn’t think you would ever have to pay consequences for your actions, did you?”
Magnus Conditius spoke up sharply. “Say what you mean, Prince Nadim of the Hazron Dynasty, and cease the theatrics.”
“Oh, I will be an actor if I wish,” he said, rounding on the consul. “After all, if you senators may playact having power within these chambers it is only fitting that you see what a real master of power looks like. Now, silence yourself as I deliver my final point.”
He turned back to the Senate, ignoring the outraged faces behind him as he shouted, “You are, all of you, beneath me. You sit here, pretending you care for your people. But I know your games, for we have played them far longer than you have even existed. We know what is truly best for our people and, with god-like Shahs on the throne, we have ever shown them what true power and prosperity is! Our empire flourishes while yours crumbles. Our wealth flows into the lands of ungrateful people who sit on with their high-minded ideals of democracy and hypocritical beliefs of strength.
“Well, you think you know what is best. You think you can make decisions with impunity and that the pendulum will never swing back. You think that any outsider who does not hold to your ideals is inferior and cannot understand the fine workings of your system. Well, I understand enough of it to know what my order will do. From this point forward and until our Shah, blessed be his name and may he live forever, deems it fit, we are cutting all trade with the Aquillan Republic.”
He placed a hand encrusted with rings over his mouth in a mock gasp of concern. “I do hope your people will not look unfavorably upon you when our grain shipments and luxury goods no longer enter your markets. It would be…terrible to find out what they might do if they were unhappy.”
He turned away but, having a second thought, turned back to the senators and happened to face Justinius as he did so. His brown face was creased with a sort of fiendish delight mixed with disdain as he said, “But, no doubt, you have experience in blaming someone else for your mistakes. A warning though; to any who would seek to steal from us or injure our ships again, we shall pay you back tenfold. Laqad takalamt!”
With this final word, he spun on his heel and began to exit the room. Before the murmurs could grow too loud, he turned back in the doorway as the guards began to withdraw. “Oh…and your security is terrible. There will be a slaughter in here one day if you don’t take care of that.”
He swept from the room, his guards following and leaving the Aquillan guards stunned on the ground outside the doorway. The doors slid shut with a boom and the room fell into a buzz of whispers. Justinius sat, his mind reeling at what he had just seen and heard. He turned to his father as did his brother on the other side. Corbenus spoke first in a hushed tone. “Is he serious, father?”
Horatius glanced at him. “Despite the theatrics, I have never known a Hazron to be less than his word. He will withdraw all trade from our ports.”
“What does this mean,” asked Justinius from the other side. “Will the people really starve?”
“They will not feel the effects at first, but that is a large shipment of grain we have lost. It will need to be replaced eventually.”
Justinius shook his head, his mind reeling. Only his first day on the senate and already it seemed disaster had struck. His father glanced at him. “Do not trouble yourself overly much. This is not the first time Aquilla has quarreled with the Warath Empire. I will put together a coalition of senators to seek to appease the Shah. In time, he will resume trade…the key is to ensure it doesn't take too long and that things don’t escalate. The last thing we need is senators being as dramatic as Prince Nadim and moving in for revenge.”
The staff cracked on the senate floor several times to restore order. The consuls had been in secret conversation but finally, Magnus Conditius stood to address the assembly. “I am moving to enact an emergency vote to supply the senate building with more guards and to increase the number of the city watch.”
“More expenses,” muttered Corbenus.
Justinius started, glancing at Damianus still hovering at the edge of the center stage. “But…” Justinius began out loud then clamped his mouth shut when it seemed that his voice echoed much louder than he intended amongst the whispers. He turned to his father, “But the vote has not occurred yet for Damianus’s proposal.”
His father nodded but said nothing, glancing at Damianus. The man seemed to have lost the wind from his sails and he was hesitant again, pale and unsure of himself. He stepped forward tentatively. “Um…excuse me. You have not yet voted on my proposal.”
“We have no time for Carxandrians!” said Brutus Cadenzius, irritation and contempt dripping from his voice.
“But…”
“We should postpone it,” said Magnus. “I move to vote on whether we postpone the vote presented by the Carxandrian delegate to a later date.”
Justinius was fuming within. This was absurd! This would clearly lose momentum and it would take weeks to address it again! The speaker was already calling the vote. “Those in favor of postponing the vote on Carxandria to a later date?”
A massive number of hands were raised. Justinius was determined to not raise his hand but turned to see his father had raised his hand and was now staring at him pointedly. Justinius felt his cheeks flush and his heart fluttered with fear and confusion. He didn’t want to but his father was clearly indicating he should. Justinius felt his mind go blank, his limbs went numb, he didn’t know what to do. His father raised an eyebrow ever so slightly. The speaker called out, “The vote passes, two hundred and fifty-six to forty-four.”
His father stared at him as his hands lowered. He spoke quite softly to Justinius so that he was barely audible but the harsh and cold tone was evident. “Do not think to defy me again.”
Justinius’s heart was hammering in his chest as he turned away. The inadvertent arrival of tears began to sting his eyes and he cursed himself. He lowered his head and the proceedings continued as a background hum. He hardly noticed Damianus walking ashen-faced and dejected back to the upper gallery, nor did he even acknowledge the fact that, when a vote was called, his hand mirrored his father's without thinking. He didn’t even know what most of the votes were on.
All he knew was that each time he raised his hand, he felt a pang of self-loathing rise within him.