“All your efforts to destroy the reigningJin’Sai and his Conclave have failed,” Vespasian went on. “Although he and his sister remain untrained in the craft and his mystics are supposedly far less gifted than we, they have defeated your plans at every turn. I understand that our direct intervention east of the Tolenkas is impossible, or theJin’Sai and his followers would be long dead. Destroying him and his sister and crushing their Conclave are important issues, but they remain the lesser of our battles. Even so, the Coven of Sorceresses, theJin’Sai ’s son Nicolas, and Wulfgar and Serena were all bested by him despite your learned counsel. Make no mistake-I have no fear either of him or of those winged abominations that he inherited from Failee. We could crush their depleted ranks in hours. No, fellow members of the Suffragat-it’s hisblood that I fear, and his willingness to destroy the Vagaries so that his side of the craft might rule. He and the Shashidans share this terrible dream. Rustannica is threatened by their pestilence and stands alone against it. This is what thePon Q’tar has taught me from the moment of my birth, and so this is what I believe.”
Sheathing his sword, Vespasian walked closer toward the section holding thePon Q’tar. Only after looking at each male and female member did he again speak.
“And so, my friends, before I announce my plan I must know something,” Vespasian said quietly. “Even though theJin’Sai twice navigated the azure pass and spent time with the traitorous Envoys of Crysenium, are you sure- absolutelysure- that he and his forces cannot cross the Tolenkas? If the Suffragat ratifies my proposal, I have no wish to suddenly find our legions fighting a war on two fronts.”
Gracchus stood and gripped the shoulder folds of his white and burgundy robe. He gave Vespasian a confident look.
“I can speak for the entirePon Q’tar on this matter, Highness,” he said. “TheJin’Sai cannot cross-of that we are certain! The Oraculum agrees. If we in our majesty have not found a way, then an untrained prince and his ragtag Conclave certainly cannot! Whatever action you have in mind, rest assured that you may proceed without interference from theJin’Sai. ”
Taking a deep breath, Vespasian walked back and took his seat. Each time he sat there facing the Suffragat he felt isolated and on display-as if it was his will pitted against theirs. The emperor’s chair had been placed there for exactly that reason, he knew. It was but one of the many prices to be paid for holding such immense power.
“May we now inquire about Your Highness’s plan?” Gracchus asked. As the Suffragat waited, the Aedifficium grew silent as a tomb.
“Our gold mines are nearly depleted,” Vespasian said quietly. “And the Shashidan gold hoards can seemingly be moved quickly, making their capture nearly impossible. But the Shashidangold mines cannot. I want to make a final, all-or-nothing thrust deep into Shashida and take the mines. I intend to lead the campaign personally.”
For several long moments no one spoke. Lucius turned to Persephone and he raised an eyebrow. The empress’s astonishment was apparent. As she tried to compose herself, she leaned closer.
“Did you…know about this?” she whispered. She was so stunned that she could barely get the words out.
Lucius shook his head. “No,” he whispered back. “But I have guessed for some time that something weighs heavily on his mind. Now we know what it is.”
Persephone’s worry became so great that her eyes shone with tears. Knowing that she needed to be strong for her husband, she quickly blinked them away.
“You are his First Tribune,” she whispered. “Can we really do this thing, Lucius? Can our legions take the Shashidan mines?”
Lucius narrowed his eyes and rubbed his chin. “That remains to be seen,” he answered. “But I know one thing.”
“What is that?” Persephone whispered.
“Like Vespasian, I believe that taking the Shashidan gold mines is the only course of action left to us. If we don’t, the treasury will soon be bankrupt. Our ability to wage war will come to a complete standstill and the Vigors will prevail.”
Persephone clearly understood the immense historical importance of Vespasian’s proposal. The Shashidan mines were deep in enemy territory and had long been considered unassailable. For the Rustannican legions to fight their way there would be difficult enough. But to also take the mines and occupy the surrounding lands would require a miracle.
She also knew that Vespasian was not the first emperor to offer such a plan, but in each case the proposal had been voted down because of the staggering cost and hugely long odds. But it wasn’t some previous emperor who had again proposed this great adventure. It had been Vespasian Augustus I, whose birth and supremely endowed blood were shrouded in mystery and awe.
Even Persephone had to admit that she did not fully comprehend Vespasian’s magical powers. Moreover, Vespasian commanded the overwhelming respect and devotion of his legions like no emperor before him. He had fought with them, drunk with them, laughed and cried with them, and helped to bury their dead. At his word they would follow him to certain death, if need be. This would be a campaign of staggering, unprecedented importance, and its outcome would permit no middle ground. The empire would either survive or fall, and Vespasian’s leadership would be the fulcrum on which the scales of history would tip.
Suddenly Persephone’s more personal concerns began crowding in. A campaign of this extent could take years, she realized. Her loneliness in Vespasian’s absence would be devastating. More important, because she had produced no heir, should Vespasian be killed, Rustannican law dictated that she would rule in his stead until she died or became too feeble to continue. Then the Suffragat would choose a new ruler to fill the power vacuum.
But if Vespasian was killed and his campaign collapsed, what sort of shambles would remain for her to govern? she wondered. Financing this special assault would surely use up most of the remaining treasury funds. If the drive failed and the Rustannican treasury was bankrupted, Ellistium would burst into an uncontrollable riot. Worse, within a matter of months Shashidan hordes would mass outside the city walls. The decimated legions would surely be insufficient to drive them back.
Amid the deafening silence of the Suffragat, Persephone again looked at her beloved husband. He returned a gaze of grim determination mixed with the hint of a secret apology for not having taken her into his confidence sooner. While she nodded her undying support, she found herself wiping away another tear.
The Suffragat strenuously debated the wisdom of Vespasian’s proposal for more than two hours. After each group had voiced its opinion, Vespasian again grasped his scepter and banged it on the floor.
“What say you all?” he asked. “May we now vote?”
Gracchus stood. “Before we do, we of thePon Q’tar must ask whether a battle plan has been drawn up for this undertaking,” he said. “If it has, we demand to see it.”
Vespasian shook his head. “As yet there is no battle plan,” he answered firmly. “My reasons for not ordering one are simple. Given its great importance, I wish the plan to be drawn up and approved by the entire Suffragat, rather than only the military. I have but one demand. Once we are in the field, I reserve the right to change any tactics I deem necessary to ensure our success.”
“In that case, thePon Q’tar agrees that the proposal should be voted on,” Gracchus answered. “But if a suitable battle plan cannot be formulated, thePon Q’tar reserves the right to demand another vote-one that would call for the total abandonment of the campaign. We will of course demand that the First Mistress of the Priory perform the auspiciums to divine our fortune in this endeavor. A favorable answer would go far in convincing the populace of our eventual victory. And there is one other thing upon which we must insist. Should this campaign become a reality, we believe that the Oraculum should be brought along as well. This sets a precedent, we realize, but her visions might be of great use to us.”
“The tribunes agree,” Lucius said.
“As does the Priory,” Julia Idaeus added.
Vespasian nodded. “Very well,” he said. “Send the skeens to retrieve the plaques.”
With a quick hand signal from Gracchus, each skeen ran to one corner of the Aedifficium. There sat an ivory chest, its sides and top emblazoned with golden eagles. Opening the chest, the skeens removed dozens of gleaming onyx and ivory plaques, each about the size and thickness of a man’s hand. One black plaque and one white plaque was delivered to each voting member of the Suffragat. However important or complex a motion might be, voting was a simple process. No secret votes or abstentions were allowed. A white plaque meant yes; a black one meant no.
