Clamat ad Caelum Tolere

Populi Sui Misericordia

True to his word, Horatius Honerius had them packed and ready to leave by the first light of dawn the next day. Each member of their small party rode on a horse as they plodded slowly out of the woods of the familiar home of the Honerius and into the lands of the Aquillan Republic. By the second day, the trees began to give way to open areas of grassland. Justinius spoke amiably to Lumina, Lavinia listening in from behind. From the front of the line, and flanked by guards, Damianus began to speak in earnest to Horatius.

“But Horatius, why will you not give an open pledge to support my call for peace?”

Horatius didn’t even look at him as he stated flatly, “You know what would happen to my position if I were to support such a radical thing out in the open? Half my party would desert overnight, if not more. I would never win the election for consul.”

“So, this is about securing your position with the consulship?” Damianus felt his teeth clenching but he resisted the urge to let his emotions take control. “I understand the purpose but that seems entirely mercenary.”

“Perhaps…if you didn’t stop to consider the possibilities that come after.”

“I do not follow.”

Horatius finally turned to him, his gaze steely. “You have to be smarter than this. You cannot let emotion or lack of foresight control you or you will never succeed in your mission.”

Damianus felt his cheek grow hot but he took the point in stride. He paused to consider Horatius’ statement and he began piecing it together. “You cannot support me or you lose your chance at the position of consul. But, as consul, you will have the power to make decisions with your co-consul.”

Horatius nodded. “The position holds the power to enact change.”

“And you will support a peace negotiation between our countries.”

Horatius shook his head. “I will not make you any promises. It is impossible for me to do so.”

Damianus slouched on his horse. “I do not like this lack of open honesty and truth.”

“You are in politics. There is little place for such things.”

“That is not entirely true. Our monarch can speak openly with the truth when he needs to. He doesn’t have to cloak his words in a thousand hidden meanings to trick people into doing things his way. He simply states it and it is so.”

“And do you think your king does not lie to obtain what he needs?” Horatius shook his head. “Think. He cannot hold his throne if he doesn’t care about the people, which your monarch certainly doesn’t. Therefore, he must find ways to convince people at the bottom that his lack of care and their poverty is for their good and line the pockets of those on top to bring it about.”

“Fundamentally, that is not true!”

“But in reality?”

Damianus looked away, his frown deepening. “I know what my king is.”

Horatius didn’t respond immediately. Damianus could tell he was studying his face out of the corner of his eye but he refused to look at the man beside him. “I understand your plight,” he finally responded. “In your system, it should be truthful and honest. I know that monarchies have the capability of doing good things for their people much faster than those in a republic could. Problems could be solved quickly under a monarch…but the potential to abuse such power is always too dangerous.”

“I am aware of a monarch’s shortcomings,” said Damianus, “Just as I am aware of a republic’s. Your country is currently facing a collapse because of its problems.”

“Yet is still strong enough to destroy yours,” stated Horatius. “You should learn to restrain such petty responses. You will receive many snide comments when you reach Aquilla.”

“This is not my first time,” responded Damianus. He closed his eyes and breathed the air deeply. It was only his third time. He didn’t need another reminder of how ill-prepared he felt for this mission.

“Are you going to ask me what my plans are as consul or are you going to miss this opportunity?”

Damianus turned to face Horatius who continued to gaze at the path ahead. “Please. Enlighten me.”

“With fortune, I will convince the Senate that the Carxandrians are not a threat that is immediate and we have other things to deal with…something that is entirely true. Therefore, I can delay any decisions made to destroy your city for another few years.”

“Then after that?”

“The same game is played again.”

“That does not leave my city in a position of security.”

Horatius shook his head. “At this point, there is no way your city is escaping our grasp. Your only hope is to delay the inevitable for as long as possible and pray my country falls before we destroy yours.”

****

Justinius, meanwhile, was rapt in conversation with Lumina about her city as well. She listened carefully to his every word and responded with her full attention. This was new to him, having someone who spoke to him and treated him as an equal. The fact that it was a beautiful woman made it all the more exciting. “Yes, but why does your city have the nickname of the Divine City?”

“Surely, all of your reading told you something,” Lumina responded, grinning at his frustration.

“I do recall something about being well-liked by your single god… I believe you call him the Cause.

“Causa Causarum”. At Justinius’ surprised expression, she shook her head. “Don’t be too impressed, that is the only Aequenda I know. It means Cause of Causes.”

“Right,” said Justinius, “Stemmed from the belief that something had to have created the universe so there must be a first cause.”

Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

“Exactly,” said Lumina. “However, Carxandria isn’t named so after the Cause. Have you ever heard of the Caustilius Empire?”

Justinius rolled his eyes. “Of course, I have. Every man within a thousand leagues of the Midline Sea knows that name. Every country within that same distance claims to be a descendant of them as well. Your nation isn’t noteworthy unless you claim your heritage from that illustrious foundation. So, does your city claim such a title?”

“More than that,” Lumina stated with conviction. “Our city was founded by the survivors of the great catastrophe that wiped out the Caustilian civilization. We are the true heirs that survived, chosen by the Cause to flourish.”

“Or so the story goes.”

Lumina turned on Justinius, the edges of a frown apparent. “You do not believe it to be true?”

Justinius shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe some of it is true…maybe none of it is. The problem with history is that we will never know, as you stated very clearly before.”

Lumina didn’t respond to this but turned to the road, staring straight ahead with a fixed gaze. Justinius felt the awkward silence grow and he kicked himself, wishing he hadn’t just insulted her beliefs. “Forgive me, Lumina. It was rude of me to criticize your beliefs when I know so little about them.”

“Do you prefer you kept your criticism to yourself?”

Justinius didn’t know how to respond. She smiled at his stumped expression. “I didn’t mean to imply you were rude. I don’t usually share my beliefs with others and, thus, don’t know how to respond when they are criticized.”

Justinius nodded slowly, smiling. “I’m always willing to hear your thoughts. I am a good listener when I set my mind to it.”

“I was under the impression you liked to hear your voice.”

Justinius let out a bark of surprised laughter. “I think I do, though I don’t usually share my important thoughts with people. Those who I have deemed to be silly, ignorant, facetious, or cruel never get my innermost thoughts. So, while I might talk a great deal, I am fully aware that much of what I say is drivel, and that is its purpose.”

She turned to him, interest and amusement mixed in her growing smile. “And, how do you know that you are not one of these people…silly or ignorant?”

“I don’t,” said Justinius. “However, I like to believe that by knowing my strengths and weaknesses to an extent and acknowledging them, I am, at least, wiser than the average man.”

Her laughter was like music to his ears. To have someone take delight in his responses was new. She composed her face again and said, “Very well. If not reasonable, you are at least sound in your ways. You would hear more of my thoughts?”

Justinius leaned forward in the saddle. “My attention is all yours.”

He meant it completely. A sunlit smile touched her face. “Very well. I have a question for you.”

“Of course.”

“Don’t you believe in the spiritual?”

Justinius smiled. “I’m…not sure. I believe there is much we don’t understand that we attribute to the spiritual…the fair folk for instance. But I have not yet had reason to believe in a…cause of causes.”

“That is because you do not know the philosophy and logic behind it.”

“Perhaps.”

Lumina raised an eyebrow. “Is that a challenge?”

Justinius sat back and nodded. “Regale me with your teachings. Convince me.”

Lumina’s smile made his heart lighten and drew a grin to his mock-serious expression. She looked skyward as if in thought then turned back to him. “Challenge accepted.”

***

Lavinia was quiet for much of the journey, only joining Justinius and Lumina on occasion in conversation. Much of her thoughts were preoccupied as she tried to imagine her life in the city of Aquilla. She had lived there in her younger years in her father’s house. But she had never been allowed outside the gardens or the house. Her tutors had kept her occupied much of the day and, during slow moments, she spent time alone amongst flowers and trees or playing with the servant girls. She couldn’t remember seeing much of her father either, even though they lived in the same house. Though the villa had been a generally isolated existence, she had always been freer there than she ever had been at her old home. Now she was returning to it but was to be presented in society as well.

At the end of the sixth day of their travels, her fear had built to a boiling point. When her father was once more in conversation with Damianus and his guards were busy around their own fire, she slipped away. Justinius would have spotted her but he was busy with Lumina. He too was too busy to care about her now, wrapped in almost constant conversation about Cumultin Philosophy, theology, and other topics she generally didn’t understand.

Lavinia stumbled through the dark trees until she cleared the trees and saw, in the light of an almost full moon, a large rock protruding from a field. It had been too difficult for the farmers to remove due to its size so it marked the end of their plowing as patches of grass lay between this rock and the forest edge. She walked up to the rock and, in a manner totally unfitting for one of her station, scrambled up the rock face in her dress until she sat atop it.

She stared up at the moon and the stars surrounding it and her eyes shone with unshed tears. She often stared at the moon, stars, or sky when distressed. They usually calmed her down. This night was different. “I don’t know what to do,” she sobbed brokenly. “Oh, mother…I don’t know what to do! I don’t know how to be an Aquillan lady!”

“Speaking with your mother?”

Lavinia nearly fell off the rock as Justinius' voice came from behind her. “Justinius! I thought you were with Lumina!”

“I was. You didn’t think I wasn’t going to notice you leaving though?”

She shrugged and pulled her legs further in and wrapped her arms around them. Justinius climbed up beside her and sat down on a lower portion of the boulder. “Are you going to tell me what is wrong?”

She turned away to hide her tear stained face. “Nothing is wrong.”

Justinius nodded slowly. “That is why you are talking to your mother.”

“I like to believe she can still hear me, even without an offering.”

“Perhaps she can. I do know that I am here now though. I can help if you want.”

Lavinia shook her head stubbornly. Justinius sighed. “I have noticed you haven’t been yourself these past few days. No singing, no smiling. Tell me what troubles you.”

“I am surprised you noticed,” she said, an edge of spite to her voice, “You have spent so much time talking with Lumina, I didn’t think you noticed much else.”

Justinius remained silent for a moment and his tense posture made her instantly regret her words. “Does that bother you…me speaking with her so much?”

Lavinia shook her head. “No. I’m glad you found someone to be friends with. In truth, you are so much better at speaking with people than I am.”

Justinius nodded slowly, his face clearing. “I see. You are worried about meeting people in Aquilla when you are ‘presented’ to society.”

She wanted to respond. To spill everything out that was hiding inside but had been building since the start of their trip. Her words caught and she closed her eyes in defeat, choking out in a sob. “I cannot even tell you what I feel. How can I possibly hope to speak to men and women in Aquillan high society? I shall make a fool of myself.”

Justinius shrugged slightly. “You don’t have to speak to them about what you feel.”

Lavinia sniffed and glanced over at him. “What? What do you mean?”

Justinius stared at her seriously as he said, “You don’t tell them what you really think. You just give them an image. That is all they expect of you and, quite frankly, that is all they deserve from you.”

“I don’t understand. You want me to…lie to them?”

Justinius sighed and shook his head. “It isn’t lying. You just have a superficial face you give them. Talk about…dresses, weather, couples, likes, and dislikes. Just leave the important conversation for those who matter to you.”

Lavinia tried to wrap her mind around this concept, unsure of what her brother was trying to say. “You want me to blend in then? But I don’t know how.”

“Blend in or not, that's up to you. I wouldn’t blend in for the world. I simply advise you to…” He stopped, a frown crossing his face. He exhaled from his nose as his gaze turned somber. “Be yourself. Just respond how you feel like responding.”

“But what if I respond wrong…or embarrass them or myself?”

Her brother scooted closer to her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. “Then so be it. Just don’t let them change you. That is all I would ask. I would still see you as my sweet sister who loves life and nature and singing and does what she thinks is right.”

She nestled into his chest and sighed. “I don’t know if I can promise that. And what if I don’t know what is right?”

Justinius did not look down at her as he gazed into the distance. “Then trust me…you aren’t alone.”