Nostra Ciwitas Quieto Dolore
Corvi Implent Aerem
The letter that Justinius wrote the morning after was sent closely on the heels of the declaration of war to Carxandria. This one was addressed to Lumina Humilius and written in such a hasty scribble that, upon receiving it, Lumina struggled to make out certain passages.
Dearest Lumina,
I hope you are as well as when I left you on your doorstep not a month ago. I shall not soon forget your expression and the feelings of joy I had as I rode from your lovely home by Lake Copiah and to my miserable home of Aquilla. I write to you now with dire news, one that I’m not even sure how best to tell at this moment. I will do my best.
Lumina, upon the return journey to Aquilla, our party was beset by…I cannot even describe it. A horrible monster of sorts, very much like the one you described from the cult of change. It attacked us and I would have died were it not for the fatae that came to my rescue. It is a long story and one that I wish I could tell in person but I must hurry on. The Senate used it as an excuse to declare war on your city and, even now, our armies gather for war. I hope this reaches you before you hear of the war from another source.
I’m so sorry, Lumina. I couldn’t stop it in any way. The inevitable is coming and what happens next is most important. I know you are dedicated to your city but I beg you, with all my heart, please come away from that city. Take your family and run. My father has villas that can house you and your siblings. You will be safe. We will find a place for you to stay, perhaps even with my brother, Paulus.
Please respond as soon as possible. My heart aches and I cannot settle my nerves for worry. Please let me help you however I can.
Yours in friendship,
Justinius Honerius
***
The high priest of the Order of Change stood before his congregation within the dark and fetid sewers of the city of Carxandria. Yet this home for the cult was not a cesspool but a well-furnished, decorated, and cleaned hive of activity with curtains, carpets, cushions, and tables of delights for every member. The air was abuzz with activity. Celebration was the order of the day. Across the room, revelries and assorted debauchery could be seen, glorious to look upon. The plan had worked perfectly. His servant stood behind him, towering over him in his bestial form. He had done his work well. Now, they had but to wait for the coming storm.
“Rejoice, servants of change!” he cried, feeling his excitement bubble over into words. “The first of our triumphs is at hand!”
A howl of cheers greeted his announcement. He continued. “Eat, drink, be merry! The chaos of change will rage above but we will celebrate below! Gather your slaves, gather your wealth, prepare for the coming of the new world!”
Another cheer, a combination of screeching and bellowing, animalistic in nature, rose from the crowd. Their eyes were wild with a light of passion and their voices joined as one, “To the Lord of Change!”
It was enough for the high priest. He left them to their pursuits of pleasure and conversation. He smiled and turned back to his servant. His heavily painted face still held a grin as he beckoned the wolf-man, the faithful servant who had attacked the Aquillan caravan and ignited this war despite some mistakes. The creature leaned down to hear him murmur. “Belus, the attack will happen in a few short months, I have no doubt. Your failure against the Aquillans in the ambush will be forgotten shortly. You know what to do when it comes?”
“Yes, my lord,” was the guttural response through the distorted maw.
“We have only to disrupt the Aquillans natural order and they too will see a Change.”
“But Lord, how can you be sure it will be toward our goals?”
“Because, Belus,” said the high priest, leading him toward the many handed statue of the Lord of Change. He studied its proffered gifts as he continued. “They cannot help but crumble into squabbling factions. Order will be disrupted and this city will be ours in all but name. You will see.”
He looked up to the statue's imperious gaze, its many gifts offered for those who would worship him. “The future is all but set in stone.”
***
For Orrin, the future was becoming more clear as was his role to play. There was no turning back now. He knew what the response would be and he wasn’t afraid to go through with it.
King Sceler the First, King of Carxandria was beside himself with fear and trepidation. His “son”, Nothus, stood behind him and rubbed his shoulders. “Do not fret, my father. The Aquillans are only looking for a moral victory. We should concede to their demands.”
Orrin turned his baleful gaze toward the young man. “This is not a moral victory they seek. They are mustering their troops as we speak.”
“They want me off my throne!” King Sceler arose and paced about his throne, “What will become of me?”
“Perhaps his majesty would-” began Orrin.
“The throne doesn’t matter,” said Nothus. “They will be content to have you off it and in control themselves but they have no ill will toward you. Just this nation and its history.”
“What are you suggesting?” asked Orrin, already knowing where the brat’s mind was wandering.
“Simple,” said Nothus, lounging on the throne. “Let them have the city and bargain for a position of importance in the new government. Or, even better, a position of prominence in society that isn’t involved in politics. We keep our wealth, our status, and our lives. The rest will work itself out.”
“And what of the people?” asked Orrin. “Their freedom as a nation? Our practices and ideals?”
The king snorted and waved a hand. “Don’t be foolish, Orrin. Ideals will not keep you alive.” He took Nothus’s head between his hands, smiling foolishly. “You are a clever boy. You are sure they will go for it?”
“Why wouldn’t they, father,” said Nothus, standing to put his hands on the king's large waist. “They are financially unstable. They only want our wealth and status. Let them have both. So long as we and our friends do as they say, we will be in the clear.”
He peered over the king's shoulder to Orrin. “As for your ideals, don’t worry. I hear Aquillans aren’t picky about religion and ideals so long as you pay your taxes, am I right?”
The king laughed with him, a simpering noise that made Orrin’s blood run hot. Nothus and the king were still holding onto one another before the king seemed to come to his senses and see his commander of the watch behind him. “Ah, yes. Commander, order the troops to disarm and destroy what weapons we have. I want no show of force whatsoever. Nothus, come. We can dictate a response together to the Aquillan Senate to-”
“No.”
Orrin’s answer split the silence like a death knell. There was no going back.
The king turned to him, his chubby face flabbergasted. “What did you say?”
Nothus stepped forward. “I believe he said no. I think the commander of the guard is revolting at last. I told you he would.”
Orrin glared at the impudent young man. “I will not surrender the city of the divine to foreign invaders or allow the intentions of an upstart rented ‘prince’ to dictate the fate of my homeland.”
“How dare you!” yelled the king.
“I’ll see you executed for your insolence!” shouted Nothus. “Guards, seize this traitor!”
A silence hung in the air as nobody moved. The king and Nothus looked around at the guards who all stood still, hands off their weapons, staring stoically ahead. Nothus’s face grew pale as he took in the guards while the king looked confused. “Did you not hear him? I sanction this act. Seize this man!”
Still, no one moved. Orrin moved closer to the pair. “You’ve finally noticed, Nothus? Your regular “guards” are not on duty, not that they would have helped you.”
“You snake,” said Nothus.
“What are you doing?” asked the king, still processing his situation.
“I’m taking control of this city and preparing it for our invaders,” replied Orrin calmly. “If they want to take our freedom and our pride, they must take it by flame and sword.”
“You can’t win!” yelled Nothus. “Aquilla will destroy this city if you fight back! We will all perish!”
“Maybe,” said Orrin. “But then they shall inherit a husk of a city.”
“What are you going to do with us?” The king's voice cracked with trepidation as he spoke.
Orrin gestured to the four guards nearest the throne. “Take them to their rooms and confine them.”
Yells of protest were mixed with indignation over their treatment as the guards herded the two men like goats toward the doors. Orrin turned to a general beside him. “Prepare the command. Have someone write a speech for our king to rally the people. Have a notice be made to conscript anyone eligible or able to fight to rally at Fort Copiah. We will distribute weapons and armor, and training will begin.”
“Yes, commander.”
“We will discuss city defenses tomorrow. Make sure the general staff is there for the briefing. We will need new and zealous captains to fill our numbers.”
The pair walked toward the doors to begin the preparations as they continued talking. Orrin felt the weight of his decision heavily upon his shoulders. Only the fire within his heart kept him steady and strong. Now fate and the Cause would decide the future of their city.
***
Lavinia wasn’t sure she had ever felt so much pity for a man before as she did for Damianus. She was standing in the atrium of her home, Myra beside her looking solemn, as they saw the Carxandrian diplomat off. He returned from his mission to save his city with nothing but failure to show. His expression was downcast. His movements were slow and methodical. It was as if he had to think before acting and each action was a painful experience.
Her father, Horatius, took Damianus’s arm and grasped it tightly. “Safe journey home, Damianus Humilius.”
“Thank you for hosting me,” said Damianus. “Your hospitality will not be forgotten.”
“I only wish I could have done more,” said Horatius.
Damianus shook his head. “I thank you for all you have done. But if you would do more, I have one more request I hope you would keep.”
Horatius nodded his only indication to proceed. Lavinia listened intently as Damianus struggled to find his words. “I know…the city will fall to Aquilla. Whether through surrender or bloodshed, I cannot say. I only know…that…if…if my family is there, they are in danger. Especially my younger sister and brother.”
“You wish me to place them under house arrest?” asked Horatius, “Keep them safe?”
Damianus looked up. “There is a catch. I…I cannot help but…defend my city, even from the inevitable. Whether in words or combat, I…cannot say at this moment. But no matter what happens, tell me you will not take it out on my siblings.”
Lavinia noticed they were still clasping arms and that Damianus was now shaking but gripping so tight that his knuckles were white. He continued with a note of pleading in his tone. “Tell me you will take care of them. If I should perish, they will have no one. Tell me you will watch after them and give them home and shelter. I beg this of you, in the name of the Cause and all morality.”
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Horatius looked into his pale face and nodded slowly. “Should fate conspire against you, I will adopt them into my family as if they were my flesh. This I swear to you on oath of my character. I will not break it and betray your trust or my word.”
Damianus nodded. “I will take it and believe in your word. When your banner flies in the Aquillan camps, I will know then to send them to you.”
“I will look for them,” said Horatius. “I will send a ship to personally escort them across the lake. Look for my banner on a ship and send them out by boat.”
“It will be done.”
The two men gave one last nod, then Damianus left. Horatius stared after him for the briefest moment and Lavinia thought she could see a look of pain cross his face before he turned and retreated into his office.
Lavinia turned to Myra. “I am sorry that it ended so badly.”
“I am as well,” said Myra. “But I suspect I will have another charge in my care before long…that is if your father will keep me on.”
“Why wouldn’t he?” asked Lavinia. She turned suddenly, fear clutching her heart. “You aren’t leaving, are you? I need you!”
Myra smiled. “I do not know. My uncle, Marius, has scandalized the city by refusing to join the war. While all other prominent families are sending members to join, my uncle has refused both troops and anyone from his family to support the invasion.”
“Why?”
Myra smiled and shook her head. She sat by the pool in the middle of the atrium. “It is complicated. Suffice to say, the Montinius name is not well-liked at the moment.”
Lavinia sat beside Myra, her stomach knotting in worry. “Father wouldn’t send you away, would he?”
“He is willing to adopt Humilius children, and there is the already old scandal of your half-gen brother, Justinius,” said Myra. “I would say one more scandal of hiring a Montinius to tutor his daughter wouldn’t be too off record of him.”
Myra smiled, putting an arm around Lavinia’s. “Come now. Don’t concern yourself over such matters. This war will be over within a year and things will settle back to normal. And who knows, perhaps you will have new siblings with you as well.”
***
Lumina held her blade up to inspect it. She gazed past her reflection in its polished face across the water of Lake Copiah, to the city of Carxandria. Perhaps the ancient tales of this city would come to an end. Perhaps it would fade into ash and memory. Then people would doubt its existence, just like Justinius had doubted much of the history of it so long ago. Justinius. Now their nations were enemies well and true. Nothing could come of it. Nothing at all.
Her heart felt ready to burst and her vision swam. Her gaze refocused on the blade and saw, in her distorted reflection, the tears brimming in her eyes. She closed them and felt the warm tears spill down her cheeks. There was little to be done now. Only to be prepared. Her resolve was still strong and true. She would not be taken by the enemy to be used and discarded. Never.
She stood and took a fighting stance then swung at the training pole.
***
Veronica felt a rising pressure in her chest which she fought to keep down. She bore a large armful of flowers, hopeful gifts to offer to her friend and confidant, the Aquillan soldier Portus. When she reached the wooden fort, she knew immediately something was wrong.
The guards on the watchtowers and walls were tripled. Sounds of activity could be heard within and, when she approached, a shout rang out and angry faces turned toward her. “Stop right there! State your business!”
Veronica recognized the man up top. “Brutus! It's me, Veronica! You know me! I’m here for my usual delivery! I brought plenty of flowers for healing!”
Brutus waved her off. “Go home, Veronica. You aren’t wanted here.”
Veronica stood, transfixed to the spot. “What are you talking about? I was just here last week. You were fine with me then.”
A soldier raised a pilum, a throwing spear, threateningly. “Get out of here! Or we will kill you, spy!”
Veronica felt her breath catch and she backed away. She knew she should run away. But she couldn’t believe they would all turn her away.
“Please…Brutus, can I speak with Portus? He knows me. Let me just talk to him. I’ll wait out here.”
Brutus glared down at her then growled something indecipherable and disappeared.
Veronica stood, unsure if she was waiting in vain or not. Finally, the door opened and a man slipped out and proceeded across the wooden bridge over the trench and to her. She smiled as he approached. “Portus! It is good to see you!”
“What do you want, Veronica,” he asked, his gaze darting to anywhere except her face.
“What? Nothing I…I just wanted to see you. Oh, I brought you these.”
She handed him the flowers which he took without a word. Veronica continued. “I figure you would need healing flowers since I haven’t picked them in a while. Portus, what is it?”
He finally looked at her, his face incredulous. “Don’t you know? We are enemies now. My country is at war with yours.”
“Oh, I heard. I didn’t think that affected us being friends…”
She trailed off at the look on his face. “I’m about to invade your city and you think we can be friends?”
Veronica felt her face burn and her smile melt away. She felt young again, like a little girl being reprimanded. “I…I didn’t think of that. I don’t see you as an enemy. I know you and you are my friend.”
The look of torture on his face made her move forward. “What’s wrong? Did I say som-”
“No,” he said. He took the flowers from her. “Thank you for these. Veronica…it can’t be that way. That’s not how reality works.”
His gaze could no longer meet hers, looking everywhere else and shifting his feet. “I should go. Thanks for the flowers. We will need them.”
Veronica watched him retreat into the fort, leaving her standing alone on the dirt path. She stared up at the guards, men who had smiled and waved to her before yet were now glaring down at her and brandishing weapons.
Somehow, without her realizing it, the world had turned upside down.
***
Cassius was in the middle of helping the workers build a new adobe oven when his father called for him. Once again, he found himself in a dirty and abysmal state, covered in dried mud and straw, to greet the great Marius Montinius.
“Imperator!” he gasped and moved forward to take his arm before stopping and looking down at himself. “I’m not…quite presentable. Forgive me.”
“Do not apologize for honest, hard labor,” said Marius, taking his arm. “I admire it. Would that my nephew were anything like you…he would be here now if he was. Your father is a lucky man to have such a son.”
Cassius blushed and stood straighter. “Thank you. Perhaps you could tell my father that. He lectures me so much.”
“If I cared less, maybe I would!” said his father, clapping a hand on his back. “Sit, my son. The Imperator has a good deal to tell us.”
“I hear we are at war,” said Cassius, taking a seat. “The Senate has called for troops from our lands and I am to lead them there.”
“Against my better judgment, I have allowed it to be so,” said Reginux. “He needs the experience, to see what battle is.”
“I agree,” said Marius, “It would be wise. It will also keep suspicion at bay.”
Cassius leaned forward. “What do you mean, Imperator?”
“I have decided not to join the war, but keep my troops up north.”
Cassius was stunned into silence for a moment, processing the information. “But…but is that not treason?”
Reginux snorted. “They would be hypocrites to say so!”
“They did not ask for my help,” said Marius. “They hope to appease me by letting me step away from this war. But I will not be so blinded by them. Let them fight their war with Carxandria. I have a more important campaign to attend to.”
“What do you-”
“Hush, my son,” said Reginux. “Let the Imperator tell all, for it involves you as well.”
Marius nodded at him, smiling. “Thank you, my friend. The plan is simple. While Carxandria is dealt with, I will be preparing my own campaign up north to resolve this crisis with diplomacy. Or a show of force if I must. We shall see how many of the rumors are true.”
Reginux nodded. “So you will invade the Wild Northlands.”
“Mokrannan, to be exact,” said Marius. “That is the largest center of civilization on the other side of Primus Pass. Their conflict of succession has been continuing for years and my spies tell me it's nowhere near completion.”
“But…Imperator,” Cassius began, then stopped, thinking twice about his comment. Marius nodded his head in encouragement and he continued. “The Senate will never grant you the troops or funding to raise the army you need. How will you obtain the necessary forces?”
Reginux interjected, “With his gold mines, boy! He holds the property to some of the wealthiest gold mines in the republic!”
Marius nodded, smiling in gratitude. “Just so my friend. I will use my gold that the Senate seeks to hoard so greedily to create my own army,” said Marius.
Cassius paled visibly, glancing at his father. “But…that’s…um…”
“Illegal?” finished Marius. “Indeed, it is. It hasn’t been done since the Tyrant himself raised his own army with his wealth and used it to march on Aquilla to take it by force.”
“The Senate will not tolerate it,” said Reginux, grimly.
“They will be busy,” said Marius. “The food crisis is about to hit and, if the rumors of rebellion that are already spreading in the provinces are to be believed, they will lose even more food, land, and people. With the loss of my gold, they will be desperate for some source of wealth.”
“Will that not encourage them to attack you for turning your back on them?” asked Cassius.
Marius’s face hardened into a scowl. “They have abandoned me and the people first. I simply return the favor. Besides, if all goes well up north, I will return with spoils of war and, perhaps, a new province. More wealth for the city than they had before. The people will welcome me back with open arms if all goes well here…and everything goes the way I suspect in Aquilla.”
“I see,” said Cassius. “But what does this have to do with us?”
“He wants you along, boy!” said Reginux, putting a hand on his shoulder. “He wants you to be his personal aide and learn from him. It is a great honor!”
“I am honored,” echoed Cassius, bowing to Marius. “I hope not to disappoint. But I am called to Carxandria-”
“A distraction, and one you will follow,” said Marius. “I know of many other minor, landholding families that wish to join me on my venture and see how the Senate has forgotten them and seeks only to tax them and take their land if it cannot be paid.”
“But we, like the rest, don’t wish to arouse suspicion,” continued Reginux. “So, we will send a few to the Carxandrian war and to make them think Marius works alone. But, when he calls us to arms, we will stand by his side.”
Reginux stood from his seat, leaning heavily on his son’s shoulder as he did. Cassius put out a hand to help him which was waved away. “Go to Carxandria, my son. Learn of war. See its horrors. Learn of the arrogance of the elite in Aquilla. You will have your wisdom to fight smart and your reasons to join Marius when you do.”
“I already would join you now if I could,” said Cassius, turning to Marius with eyes shining in excitement. “I am ready to serve, Imperator.”
Marius smiled. “You are a good man, Cassius. I will see to it you learn a thing or two in your service.”
“More than that, I’m sure,” said Cassius.
“Now clean yourself up,” said Reginux. “Your sister prepares supper for our guest and you are unfit to sit at table.”
“Yes, Father.”
Cassius stood, bowed to Marius, and departed. Reginux stared after him, concern appearing on his weather-beaten face. “You will take care of my boy, won’t you Marius? He’s my only son, heir to my home. The longer he stays away from home, the more concerned I will be.”
“Gods willing, the campaign up north will take no more than a season or two,” said Marius. He put a hand on his old friend’s shoulder. “Do not fear. I cannot promise your sons’ safety. Where we go, if rumors are true, there is danger everywhere. But he seems wise and strong-hearted. He will flourish there, I promise.”
***
The troops from Aquilla began their march from the city. Two months of preparation had left Augustina and her beloved Rufus busy over many long days. Yet, now that he stood in the doorway in his full gear, ready to move out, the time had flown past with callous, unfeeling disinterest. She would lose her husband for months. He was going into battle, so soon into their marriage.
He laughed at her concerns. “Don’t fret for me, Augustina,” he said, taking her in his arms. “I am a consul. I won’t be in the front line of fighting. I won’t even be in harm's way.”
“Consuls have died before in battle,” she said, unable to keep the bitter tone from her voice. “They were ambushed or died in a lost battle-”
“We are not going to lose,” said Rufus. “This battle is a formality only. It is a guaranteed victory.”
“I knew this day might come, but I did not think it would come so soon. My husband…already going into battle.”
“Where he will bring dignity to his family name,” said Rufus. He pulled her closer, their faces close together. “And what of you? What will you do to keep busy while I am gone?”
“Oh,” she said, pulling his hands down to her sides. “I’ll be busy growing and bearing your son.”
His face went through every emotion. Confusion, disbelief, joy. “What?! We are…”
“Yes.”
“How do you know it's a boy?”
“Intuition. Our line is secured. And many more will follow.”
He took her and kissed her, pulling her gently in but kissing her so passionately, she had to pull away to breathe. “Don’t smother me!”
He laughed but still held her close. “I will do everything in my power to end this war quickly and return.”
“When you do, I will bring your son and place him in your arms.”
“What shall his name be?”
“I say we come up with names and compare them when you return. We will hold his naming day till that time.”
He kissed her again and she sank into his arms. She knew she couldn’t really feel his warmth through his armor, but she thought she could. Perhaps it was her warmth, so alive and humming. Perhaps it was the thought of her, her husband, and their child held between them that caused such a glow.
When she released him, she did not leave the doorway as she waved goodbye. She watched him ride his horse down the street and away, far away, to war.
***
The letter Justinius received in turn from Lumina was short and to the point. It did little to allay his fears. It made him fret all the more. A heavy sorrow weighed upon him as, in preparation for a going away party at Virgilus’s home, he sat on his bed and read her somber words.
My dearest Justinius,
I am sorry to cause you grief and I am afraid my answer will cause more pain than relief. I cannot go from my city. My brothers will never abandon this city and I will not abandon them. And you knew how much I loved this city. If you can keep my siblings safe, I beg you to speak to your father on their behalf. But as for myself, I am resigned to my choice.
I pray you will not think ill of me for making this decision. I will always remember that moment at the doorway fondly as well. I would have held that moment for longer than any moment in my life. I hope somehow, someday, somewhere, we will meet again.
Keep safe and well, Justinius. Think well of me for I shall think well of you.
Yours truly,
Lumina Humilus