The shimmering haze across the forum in the Nevan capital, Paqurineva, presented a visible testament to the heat of summer there. No sea breeze to bring some slight relief. The sunshine reflecting off of the splendid white stone structures seemed to amplify the midsummer heat in the expansive plaza, at the centre of the largest city in the empire.

Atop the stairs to the basilica for the Nevan Senate and imperial administration offices, two men climbed the last stair. Marius Vinnicus wore the gold-trimmed robe with the red cape of office for the Military Censor. He was only a little winded. The brown-eyed man with short, curly black hair looked fit for his age. Most fifty-five-year-olds in the upper ranks of society already showed signs of deterioration from age or overindulgence in the ‘finer things’.

His companion, Senator Grillo Amillos, was his physical opposite, being a balding, portly man who was sweating profusely, red in the face and wheezing from exertion. “What… was I thinking… calling an… emergency session in… this blasted heat?”

Marius was a former general in the legions before he stood for the senate, and still kept to the stoic self-discipline of a career soldier, despite his lofty position. “I keep inviting you to come train with me, Grillo, my old friend. Your wife, and your heart, will thank you if you would accept.”

Grillo flashed him a grimace and responded between gasps, “I appreciate the sentiment…but life is…meant to be enjoyed…old boy. I don’t find…any merit in working…before and after work. Although phew...my argument is…ringing hollow as I…I see spots before my eyes.”

Marius laughed as he took Grillo’s arm to help him to the building. “I quote for you the tenet of the Nevan God Ganiton, ‘When toils of the body are a match for the trials of the mind, the mind is rewarded with the strength of the body.’ If you worked on your body, a mind as sharp as yours would be near to that of Bannis, the God of knowledge.”

“Ah, but what is the point of toils if you never take the time to enjoy the fruits of them to their fullest?” Grillo was breathing a little easier, as inside the stone structure, the air was much cooler.

Marius winked at him and said, “My wife gets to enjoy the fruits of my toils every night.” Which had both men laughing as they traversed the main hall heading to the senate chamber.

The unlikely friends were halfway across the entry hall when Scipio, in his gold-trimmed robe and purple cape of his civil office, passed the two men and greeted them curtly, “Censor, Senator.”

Both men returned his greeting in kind. Grillo had a particular enmity for him. Once he was out of earshot, in a low voice Grillo said to Marius, “Hm, I don’t see the rat with him today.”

“Ah yes, that is quite odd, isn’t it?”

Senators were filing into the chambers to conduct discussions on matters of significance for the empire. The senators took their seats and an elderly man wearing a blue cape that identified his position as a magistrate and mediator for debates and meetings started proceedings with a shout of “Order, order!”

The din of conversation and shuffling about gradually ceased. Once satisfied that he had the attention of those present, he began, “Senators, we have a matter of some urgency, so much so that both censors are present. The item is an incident involving the armed incursion of foreign soldiers into imperial territory.”

There were some exclamations of surprise, some hisses and the chatter began increasing in volume when the magistrate once again called them to order and continued, “We have some reports about the goings on, I will read them out and then the floor will be open for questions and orderly discussion.”

The volume of chatter increased again, but only slightly before dying back down. The magistrate held up a scroll that was passed to him. “We have a report here in my hand from the praetor of the Mevennoli district stating that on the road from Anitola, some ten miles outside of the town of Leila, there was a massacre perpetrated by soldiers of Halder origin. This resulted in the deaths of some sixty-eight Nevan citizens. It is believed those armed Haldermen entered via the Port City of Raugus under a letter bearing the seal of Ambassador Gallad Crassus, allowing entry to discuss trade. Furthermore, those same armed Haldermen killed ten more Nevan citizens the following morning by the river on the outskirts of that same town.”

The magistrate held the scroll aloft and looked around at the men present, and then said, “We will discuss what is to be made of, and done regarding an armed incursion into our territory by a foreign nation and the slaying of our citizens.”

Scipio stood and said outright, “There is only one thing to make of it. This is an act of war.” With this single statement, the Senate floor erupted, red-faced men yelling and pointing at each other, some shoving, with Scipio standing amongst it all with an almost imperceptible sneer.

It took several seconds for the magistrate to bring some calm to the chambers.

Senator Grillo was next to speak, starting by saying, “Well, that was certainly dramatic. Nice delivery. If politics gets boring for you, Censor Calguri, you might consider a career in the theatre.” With that, the tension eased somewhat, as this comment brought some levity to the room.

Scipio glared at Grillo, a sneer of contempt creasing his countenance as he said, “Are you going to make a point? Or are you going to regale us with a comedic performance? Though, what a member of a conquered people could add to a discussion on matters involving imperial honour is anyone’s guess.”

Grillo smiled tensely at Scipio’s low blow, being that he was Henasian, born in the last of the Henasian city states conquered by the empire. This resulted in him often being looked down upon by his fellow senators. The senate who were almost exclusively of Nevan ancestry.

Although he rarely spoke during senate meetings, Marius stood and admonished both men, “Gentleman, do we have anything of substance to offer the discussion? If not, please take your seats and surrender the floor to those who do.” Scipio still had the contemptuous sneer plastered across his thin face. However, he would never dare challenge Marius openly, so he held his tongue.

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Grillo still had the expression of a man affronted, but he maintained his cool. “Of course, His Worship is correct, my apologies.” He then went on, “I have it on good authority that the delegation was sent with ambassadorial clearance to investigate an incursion into Holvelan territory by armed Nevan slavers. These Nevans had raided a village on the island of Sofjorland, and those that they didn’t rape or murder were taken as slaves and sold to the pits.”

Although this statement didn’t cause the outrage that the previous reports did, it brought more of a balance to the room. The talk of war was greatly muted by this information. The magistrate asked, “And from what source did you come by this information, Senator Amillos?”

“I submit I have with me a despatch from the Ambassador to the Grand Duchy of Holvela, Gallad Crassus, and a letter from the Praetor of Raugus.”

Grillo handed the two documents to the Magistrate, who first read the letter from Ambassador Crassus, “Ahem…

I, Ambassador Gallad Crassus, do swear on my oath of office that the following statement is true.

I interviewed a Nevan citizen, one Luca Vannur, who was taken prisoner during the slaver raid that was perpetrated on Holvelan citizens by a Nevan slave raiding ship. This was done in direct violation of the long-standing treaty between our nations. Furthermore, one of the slaves taken was related to King Ulden himself by marriage to his daughter.” The magistrate’s hands had started trembling as his voice weakened and his face took on a sickly pallor. He read on.

“A fact that has given cause for the King of all Halder peoples to take this matter as a personal affront perpetrated by our people against his own family.”

The entire senate chamber fell deathly silent, nary a breath to be heard. Grillo, ever the consummate politician and orator, let them stew on that for a few moments. He cast a subtle sideward glance at Scipio, who was visibly seething, trying without success to mask it. Grillo smiled slightly at that before asking the magistrate, “And the Praetor’s letter, your honour?”

The magistrate, still trembling, gave Grillo a slightly pleading look, to which he responded, “Or would you mind if I read it for you?”

“Please, if you would be so kind,” he responded in a barely audible, raspy voice.

“Of course, of course. Terribly hot day, your honour, perhaps a seat and some water?”

He glanced at one of the chamber functionaries meaningfully and then opened the parchment. “The letter reads thus:

I Darius Decimus, Praetor Region Raugus declare on oath that this statement is true.

My town watch learned of potential illegal dealings occurring through the pits of one Flavius Dasilla, that being his acquisition of six citizens of the Grand Duchy of Holvela. I learned first-hand of this from Prince Thayn Uldenson, Duke of Skord, who leads a delegation sent to investigate this crime.”

Grillo looked over the parchment to scan the room, seeing a familiar pallor to that of the magistrate colouring the faces of all present. Except for the unflappable Marius’ neutral expression, and Scipio, whose face had reddened with anger.

Grillo then said, “Well, that certainly explains the ‘armed incursion’. It would seem that the Haldermen in question have arrived legally, and with good cause. I shall read on, ahem, excuse me. Right:

A raid was conducted on the slave pits by the Raugus town watch, and three Holvelan males were recovered, one on the verge of death. Two of the six illegally abducted men were slain in the pit arena, and the husband of the Princess had been moved on by Flavius Dasilla to be forced to compete in other city pit fighting arenas on the way to the grand games in Paqurineva.

Whilst the duke and his sister, Princess Venna Avdlak and her two sons, attended my residence to discuss how to further proceed, armed men attacked. Regrettably, my personal guards were slain. However, through the bravery of Princess Venna’s younger son, Prince Orn Avdlak, my family was saved. The boy saw the leader of the armed assailants and relayed to me a detailed description of him.

I would recommend an inquiry into the whereabouts and doings of one Senator Corrus Agular.

Well…Well, well, well. It certainly puts the issue of bodies around Leila into perspective, now doesn’t it?” Grillo mused as he tapped the now-rolled parchment against his lips meaningfully. “I yield the floor for any who would like to offer a response to this information.”

Not a single muscle twitched to which Grillo, almost taunting, added, “No one? Scipio? Nothing to add?”

There was an awkward silence hanging over the senate chambers. Citizens who were there to watch the proceedings had already left the room to tell everyone who would listen about the juicy information just spoken of.

Eventually, the Magistrate stood and said, “I believe that it might be best if we table this discussion until tomorrow, and recess until then to come to grips with the gravity of these, ah, well. Yes. This session is adjourned until the morrow.”

The senate chamber cleared, only this time the atmosphere was subdued. Scipio, on the other hand, stormed out, like a man on a mission.

ᚲᚺᚱᛟᚾᛁᚲᛚᛖᛊᚱᛁᚾᚾ×ᛟᚱ×ᛟᚱᚾ

On the bank of the Suvoria River, on the outskirts of Mevennoli, the party had set up camp for the night. Thayn had ordered a fifty per cent watch, to ensure no surprises during the night.

Orn was in a sullen mood. He had never before felt the full brunt of his mother’s disappointment. Erik could shrug it off because he was always the one in trouble as a kid, but Orn was not like that. He didn’t know how to cope with it.

While he was stuck in his own mind, he didn’t hear his mother approach and only noticed her when she sat down next to him. He glanced at her and then dropped his eyes to the ground once more. Venna wordlessly held out to him a plate of bread and grilled fish, which Gereld had caught.

Orn took it, and then said, “I’m sorry, Mother. I saw Erik get hurt, and I didn’t think about…” His mother cut him off with, “That’s right. You didn’t think. What if it was a trap? What if you were overwhelmed?” She stopped for a moment and then let out a sigh before saying, “That said, I should not have hit you in front of everyone like that. That was wrong of me. Just please, Orn, stop and think. You are still a boy, Orn. A human boy. You are not invulnerable. You mustn’t do that again.”

He nodded as Venna ate a piece of fish. A small smile split her lovely features as she bumped him gently with her shoulder. Orn’s face went slightly red, and she saw tears fall to the ground at his feet, his shoulders convulsing with suppressed sobs. Her smile slid from her face as she put her arm around him. She rocked side to side gently and whispered, “It’s all right. It’s all right, shh, shh, shh,” as she kissed the top of his head.

“Can I get in on this?” quipped Erik as he sat on the other side of Venna who, through her own tears, smiled and said, “If you hold my plate for me.”

Erik sat down and grabbed her plate, enabling her to put her arm around him. “My boys. No more going off on your own, all right? The key to surviving battles is ensuring you look after the one to your right and left, and each of them is looking after their right and left, and so on. That way, we all stay together, and we all survive together. It’s not heroic to jump in the middle and do it all yourself. It’s just silly.”

Both her sons nodded. Then Venna turned to Erik and said, “Feed your mother, can you, dear? Her arms are a little busy just now.”