became little more than glowing blurs. Then there was a great explosion, and an intense wind sprang from nowhere.
All the fallen Archives documents went flying into the air. As the precious books and the papers whirled about, three explosions followed in quick succession. Their immense force took the visitors off their feet. Tristan landed hard beside Faegan’s overturned chair. He turned his head to see the wizard lying beside him.
Tristan groggily did his best to look through the whirling paper blizzard. He could barely see that the Tome and the Scrolls had stopped spinning. But something else was happening. The three relics were emitting some type of azure dust. The quickly growing cloud grew and grew until it engulfed the room.
As the azure cloud drifted over him, Tristan sensed his consciousness slipping away. He tried to look around; it seemed that everyone except him and Faegan had been overcome.
Tristan managed a last look at Faegan. The old wizard’s face showed great delight.
“The legend is true…” Tristan heard Faegan faintly whisper, as if the wizard’s voice was drifting to him from some faraway place. “Subtle matter exists…subtle matter exists…”
Unable to stay conscious, the prince finally surrendered.
CHAPTER V
“THAT’S MERE SNIVELRY, GRACCHUS!” VESPASIAN SHOUTED. Raising one hand, he pointed an accusatory finger at the lead cleric. “It was hardly a worthy comment from someone of your station!”
The emperor was clearly angry, as were many others present. Soon the meeting chamber again burst into loud, disorganized rancor.
Lifting his scepter, Vespasian repeatedly banged it on the floor, and the room gradually quieted. From his seat among the other tribunes, Lucius Marius gave his emperor a quick nod of support. Vespasian returned the scepter to the golden holder beside his chair.
The meeting had been going on for nearly an hour. Vespasian had spent some of that time castigating Gracchus not only for what he saw as Gracchus’ furtive try to murder an inordinate number of skeens in the arena for his own aggrandizement, but also for what Vespasian saw as a clear affront to his authority. Gracchus had apologized, but Vespasian sensed that Gracchus’ contrition was superficial rather than heartfelt, forcing him to doubt whether he had seen the last of his lead cleric’s impudence.
It was early morning of the day following the opening of the games. Vespasian knew that this meeting must be brief, for the games were scheduled to resume at midday. As the visitors quieted, Vespasian took a moment to look around the room.
The rulers’ meeting chamber was called the Rectoris Aedifficium, or simply “the Aedifficium.” Like the Rotunda of the Priory, it occupied the top of one of Ellistium’s seven hills. Aside from a few skeens selected to serve them, admittance to the Aedifficium was strictly limited to the emperor and empress, the members of the Priory, the clerics of thePon Q’tar, and the eighty legionary tribunes. Also like the Rotunda, it was guarded by specially chosen centurions. It was here that all laws and important decisions were crafted and voted on.
Compared with many other structures in Ellistium, the Aedifficium was small, taking the form of an amphitheater measuring thirty meters across. Vespasian’s chair sat alone in the center of the room facing the curved rows of seats.
The walls, floor, and flat ceiling were made of pure turquoise. Gleaming onyx pilasters stood against the curved walls every six feet, each crowned with a golden eagle, the empire’s symbol of authority. Leaded glass skylights let in the morning sun. During nighttime sessions, wall torches enchanted to burn without smoke were set ablaze, granting the Aedifficium an august presence.
The section to Vespasian’s left held the seats of the twelvePon Q’tar members. The center section was the province of the twenty Priory women, and the seats on the right were for the eighty legionary tribunes. Custom dictated that the empress always sat in a place of honor beside the First Tribune.
The Aedifficium was seldom in full session because some tribunes were always afield, prosecuting the war. Because the tribunes outnumbered all the other members combined, only the thirty-two highest ranking tribunes could vote, lest the empire’s military wing conspire to control every voting session. Taken as whole, the voting body was called the Suffragat.
One legionary tribune was designated the Suffragat scribe, responsible for recording every word. After each meeting, Vespasian and thePon Q’tar heavily censored the scribe’s report. Only then was a copy sent to every herald in the city. The heralds would then shout the report’s contents from towers standing at each of the forum’s four corners, so that interested citizens could hear the Suffragat’s latest pronouncements.
A dozen male skeens stood by, waiting to pass important documents among the Suffragat members and to perform other services as needed. As a precaution against the leaking of state secrets, not one Aedifficium skeen could read or write. Additionally, each skeen’s tongue had been cut out and his eardrums pierced. Members of the governing body communicated their needs to the skeens by way of hand signals. From the day he entered the service of the Suffragat, every Aedifficium skeen was forced to live out his life in modest quarters on the Aedifficium compound.
As the room finally quieted, from his place on the Aedifficium floor Vespasian again looked his lead cleric in the eyes. Then he glanced toward the tribune scribe, and he smirked. Today’s session report would be even more heavily censored than usual, he realized. Because Lucius had already given the war report, Vespasian decided to move on to the next topic. He looked at Julia Idaeus.
“Will the Femiculi please stand?” he asked.
Julia stood from her chair and gracefully smoothed her gown. She was an attractive woman, with a lovely face and long dark ringlets. Julia and her sisters were not allowed to wear their veils in the Aedifficium, largely because the other Suffragat members wanted to be able to gauge the women’s expressions as various topics were debated. The Priory was important to the people of Rustannica, and Vespasian knew full well that he needed its support if he was to rule effectively. With her hands respectfully clasped before her, Julia regarded her emperor.
“The full moons are here,” Vespasian said. “I trust that the Vagaries flame has been replenished and that should I visit the Rotunda, I would find it in vibrant stead?”
“Yes, Your Highness,” Julia answered. “The flame burns strongly again. All is well with the craft.”
“Thank you, Femiculi,” Vespasian said. “Do you wish to inform the Suffragat of any worthy supplications proposed by the citizens?”
“Not at this time, Highness,” she answered.
“Very well,” Vespasian said. “You may be seated.”
Unlike the commanding way he behaved toward thePon Q’tar and the military, Vespasian always treated the Priory members with utmost courtesy. There were two reasons for this.
First, his respect for the Priory was genuine. The vows of chastity required to join the Priory were taken willingly, and becoming a Priory member was considered a great honor. The vows were an act of faith and central to the women’s beings. Should a Sister be caught breaking her vows, the penalty was death. By law, the method of execution was ritual sacrifice, performed on the black altar standing before the Vagaries flame.
In the entire history of the empire, this punishment had never been needed. Even so, the vows of chastity were more than a sacred discipline that the Sisters were obliged to follow. They also symbolized a guiding principle for the populace at large and gave them faith. The citizenry believed that so long as the Priory Sisters remained pure, so would the Vagaries flame that they tended and protected. As went the life of the flame, so did the life of the nation.
The second reason for Vespasian’s cultivation of the Priory was more pragmatic. Of the three Suffragat factions, the Priory was the one most attuned to the will of the people. Only Julia Idaeus heard the supplications of the citizens, rather than Vespasian, thePon Q’tar, or the military. The needs expressed by the citizens that Julia deemed worthy of debate were relayed to the Suffragat. If the Suffragat agreed, the request was discussed and a vote was taken. Having the Femiculi’s ear was a potent advantage in advancing one’s fortunes. People had been known to come from thousands of miles away for a mere chance of being granted an audience with Julia Idaeus. Sometimes the eager pilgrims succeeded, sometimes they did not.
