“No!” Persephone answered. “I know of nothing that can be done for him. He must return to us on his own.” Suddenly the look on her face became commanding.
“And now you too know the secret,” she declared.
Looking down at her stricken husband, she wiped his brow and smoothed his damp blond curls. Despite her legendary skills in the craft, she was helpless to save the person she most loved in the world. That painful awareness caused her recent thoughts to resurface, and she realized that this was yet another way in which she had failed him. I can’t cure him, but I can protect him, she decided. She looked back up at Lucius.
“What I am about to tell you must remain a secret,” she said. “Only we three know about the emperor’s affliction. If thePon Q’tar or any other Suffragat members learn of it they might declare him unfit to lead this badly needed campaign. In the end, that defeat would crush Vespasian as surely as this affliction might. The Suffragat has the right to declare him unfit, but we must hide his secret. If word of this gets out I shall know that it came from you and I will kill you myself, do you understand?”
“Yes, Empress,” Lucius answered respectfully. “I love him too. But is there nothing that we can do for him?”
“Pick him up,” she ordered. “We must take him to our private quarters before anyone else comes in! Only there can I protect him and explain away his absence! Hurry now!”
Lucius bent down to take Vespasian into his arms. With the empress leading the way, the First Tribune carried Vespasian down one of the many connecting canvas corridors and into the safety of the emperor’s personal quarters.
SCARCELY ABLE TO BELIEVE WHAT SHE HAD JUST HEARD, Julia Idaeus stood stock-still, praying that she hadn’t been noticed. She stood only two meters away, just out of view down the long canvas corridor that connected her private quarters to the communal war tent. Finished with her rest, she had decided to rejoin Persephone to see whether she could coax the empress into telling her something that might be useful to theInkai.
Never in her wildest dreams had she expected to hear such revelations as these. As she neared the war tent and heard the urgent conversation taking place there, she had immediately halted, then called a spell to cloak her endowed blood so that the empress and the First Tribune would not sense her presence.
After Persephone and Lucius spirited Vespasian away, she stood in the canvas corridor, thinking. They would likely not return for some time, she guessed.
Deciding to enter the war tent, with shaking hands she poured a cup of wine, then went to sit on one of the finely upholstered benches. She could not know how long she might have the luxury of being alone, and she would use every precious moment to think.
What she had just overheard was vastly important, and theInkai must be informed at once. She had found but one safe occasion to commune with them since that day in the Hall of Antiquity, using that instance to supply them with vital details regarding Vespasian’s advance. To her delight, she had been told that theJin’Sai had finally reached Shashida.
But the news that she had just stumbled across might be even more valuable, she realized, and theInkai must be told straightaway. All she needed was another safe opportunity to do so, but when and where?
Taking another sip of the excellent wine, she smiled to herself as she ended the spell cloaking her blood.
CHAPTER XLI
RENJIRO’S WORDS HIT TRISTAN LIKE A THUNDERBOLT.“Just as thePon Q’tar did with Vespasian, we intend to imbue your blood signature with forestallments that have long been banned because they might literally mean the end of the world…”
Renjiro’s mention of banned spells immediately reminded Tristan of his first visit to Crysenium and what the envoy Miriam had told him about the early days of the War of Attrition. She too had mentioned spells that had been banned from use by both sides of the conflict. As Tristan thought about it further, the pieces of Renjiro’s mysterious announcement fell into place. The sudden awareness was terrifying.
ThePon Q’tar was about to take the struggle to the highest level. The only thing holding them back had been their need for an endowed person of supremely powerful blood whom the Shashidans could not effectively counter. With the birth of Vespasian they finally had one. And only Tristan’s blood was the supposed equal of the emperor’s.
Tristan looked into Renjiro’s eyes. “It’s true, then-I’m the only one who can stop this,” he said. “ThePon Q’tar will try to take your gold because no matter what else happens, they still need the gold to keep their nation from falling apart. But afterward they will try to accomplish far more. They wish to destroy Shashida completely-to wipe its civilization from the face of the earth with one stroke. Using the banned spells, they mean to do with this one campaign what they have failed to achieve in aeons of relentless conventional war. You’re right, Renjiro. With Vespasian’s coming they finally have the ultimate weapon with which to realize their dreams.”
A blank look on his face, Tristan sat back in his chair. “I beg the Afterlife,” he breathed. “Despite its disastrous consequences, it’s an inspired plan.” Suddenly something else occurred to him and he shot a quick glance at Mashiro.
“Does Vespasian fully understand his role in all this?” he asked.
Mashiro sadly shook his head. “We can’t be sure, but we have reason to doubt it,” he answered. “Our best guess is that he still believes that the entire battle plan concerns only taking the mines. If we’re right, thePon Q’tar will tell him soon enough. We suspect that Vespasian’s blood already possesses these awful gifts, but that he remains unaware of them.”
“Why would thePon Q’tar not inform him?” Tristan asked.
“Excuse me,” Wigg interjected. “Would someone please explain what you’re talking about?”
A short smile crossed Tristan’s lips. “As you have been so fond of telling me over the years, you already have the needed information,” he answered. “You simply don’t understand how it all falls into place. I must say that it feels good to explain something toyou for a change.”
Wigg pursed his lips. “Then I suggest that you enlighten this simple old wizard and your Conclave privateer,” he said. Sitting back in his chair, he crossed his arms over his chest.
“It all goes back to something Miriam told me in Crysenium before she and the other Envoys were killed,” Tristan answered. Before continuing he shot a questioning glance at Mashiro. “Am I right?” he asked.
“I don’t know,” theInkai elder answered. “After all, I wasn’t there. Any time I know you speak in error I’ll humbly correct you, Jin’Sai. ”
“Fair enough,” Tristan answered.
“And so?” Wigg eagerly pressed.
Tristan looked back at the First Wizard. He took a deep breath, as if even he couldn’t believe what he was about to say.
“I told the Conclave the things Miriam said to me about the early days of the War of Attrition,” Tristan said. “Surely you remember them.”
Wigg nodded. “Yes,” he answered. “But it seems that you have taken those revelations a step further in meaning.”
Tristan thought for a moment as he tried to recall Miriam’s words.
“Aeons ago, everyone here lived in a fragile and tense coexistence,” he said. “Then the Vagaries practitioners became fanatically devoted to the dark side of the craft. Eventually they split away and started the civil war. What followed was a miscalculation beyond description.”
Wigg nodded. “Go on,” he said.
“During the war’s early years the Vagaries rebels used especially dark magic to influence the forces of nature,” Tristan explained. “Spells were formulated that allowed them to employ natural phenomena as weapons of war. The destruction was unprecedented, and millions died. To survive, the Vigors practitioners had no choice but to do the same thing, even though it went against their principles.” Suddenly realizing something else, Tristan again glanced over at Mashiro.
