The three charioteers immediately drew their swords. As the chariot charged ever nearer, the turtle of shields defiantly stood its ground. Just then Vespasian realized that the defiant skeens surely had a plan. They must act soon, he guessed, or they will be mowed down.
Sensing that a great collision might occur, Vespasian quickly stood and cheered his centurions onward. Seeing their beloved emperor rise to his feet caused the crowd to shout even louder as they too anticipated the crash.
Just as the chariot was about to mow them down, the skeens abandoned the turtle tactic and formed two straight lines on either side. Unable to change direction quickly enough, the chariot charged straight through the gap. But three of the skeens hadn’t been quick enough. Although they tried to jump aside, the axle spikes found them, slicing each of them through at the waist. Spurting blood, the grotesque halves tumbled to the thirsty sand.
As the horses tore between the skeen lines, the surviving slaves plunged their swords deep into the stallions’ chests and struck out at their front legs. Screaming wildly, the two horses went down, the stumps of their severed front legs burying into the sand. As the crowd roared, the horses flipped forward onto their backs. Still harnessed to the team, the chariot also launched into the air, turning upside down and crashing ahead of the tortured horses. The three charioteers went flying onto the sand some distance away.
The tables had been turned, and the centurions were now at the mercy of the skeens. Because the other nine chariots and their riders were busy elsewhere, Vespasian realized that this trio was done for. Before they could rise to their feet, the jubilant skeens were on them, hacking them to pieces. Starving animals then rushed in to pounce on two of the busy skeens and to devour the scattered corpse halves.
Vespasian took a deep breath. So much blood and violence, he thought as he again sipped his wine. But that part of our nature must remain if we are to defeat the Shashidans. We must stay hard, brutal, and unyielding, for the price of our freedom is constant vigilance. Looking down, he used an index finger to thoughtfully trace the rim of his wine goblet.
Perhaps if the Vigors are defeated we can someday forgo all violence, he mused. That is my secret dream. But I fear that brutality might be forever ingrained in our blood signatures. After aeons of cultivating violence, it will not be easily dismissed, even if I can secure a lasting victory.
He turned to look at Persephone again. Flushed with excitement, she watched eagerly as the fighting raged on. More centurions were being let into the arena to take the place of their fallen comrades, while the exhausted skeens could do nothing but watch and wonder how much longer it would take them to die. As Vespasian’s attention focused ever more on Persephone, he was reminded of the great request he had made of her the day before…
“What bothers you so, my love?” Persephone asked. Dipping her sponge into the warm water again, she soothingly used it to rub Vespasian’s naked back. Closing his eyes, the emperor luxuriated in his wife’s loving gesture.
There were only two places in the world where Vespasian felt that he commanded total privacy, and they were both in the royal residence. The first was in his and Persephone’s vast and luxurious bedchambers. The other was here in their private bath.
Like attending the games, bathing-both public and private-had become something of an addiction in Ellistium. Most people used the public baths, but some of the wealthiest citizens possessed private baths. The public baths were often linked to other facilities such as massage rooms, meeting places, exercise areas, eateries, and shops. Sometimes the water was heated by the craft, but most often it was warmed in underground boilers connected to wood-burning furnaces and was then piped into the bathing pools. As would be expected, the royal bath was a sumptuous affair. Unless Vespasian and Persephone deigned to invite guests, this place was for their use alone.
The room was large and beautifully appointed. Measuring thirty meters square, its walls and ceiling were made of the finest turquoise and onyx. The floor was a subtly patterned mosaic of white marble squares. A large rectangular skylight in the center of the ceiling allowed sunlight to flood in. A dozen fluted columns stretched from the floor to the ceiling to support the four sides of the massive skylight. The rest of the ceiling was comprised of a series of indented squares, each one bordered by ornate gold moldings and painted with a different scene from Rustannican antiquity. Shaped like the dark blue mosaic pool lying directly beneath it, the skylight let in not just sunlight but also rainwater, reducing the need to continually add more water.
The bath walls were covered with colorful frescoes, separated every few meters by decorated pilasters reaching from floor to ceiling. Scented water burbled from a golden spout in the center of each wall to fall into another stone pool. Luxuriously upholstered sofas and chairs and ornately framed mirrors had been placed about the room, and a host of handmaidens stood by to serve every need of the Blood Royal and his wife. Two of the handmaidens provided lyre and flute music, and caged birds added a soft chorus as sunlight streamed down through the atrium to shimmer in the pool water. Vespasian’s personal masseur, a stout skeen who had served the emperor for two decades, stood ready to employ his strong hands and exotic oils.
As Persephone gently rubbed his back, Vespasian flexed his naked body. He loved the royal bath, but his mind remained troubled. His recent night terror had shaken him and he feared that another might come. But even more worrisome was the thought that he might somehow be struck down by one of these terrifying visions during the day for everyone to see. He knew that he could not afford such an occurrence-especially with the advent of his new campaign.
He turned to look at Persephone. Only she understands me, he thought. Not even Lucius knows me so well. Nor does he know about my secret weakness. How I need this woman…
Reaching up, he removed the elegant diamond clasp that collected her long blond hair. Tossing it across the floor, he shook her tresses free, letting them slip into the warm water, and pulled her naked body to his. Persephone smiled knowingly as she playfully laid her wet forearms on his shoulders and looked into his eyes.
Smiling, she touched the tip of one index finger to the end of her husband’s nose. “You still haven’t told me what troubles you,” she said. “Arousing me won’t stop me from asking, you know.”
Vespasian nodded. “Come,” he said. “Let’s talk.”
Looking across the chamber, he snapped his fingers at the handmaidens and the masseur. At once they gathered up their things and left the room, bowing as they went.
Vespasian led Persephone through the shoulder-deep water toward the pool steps. As they walked up he reached out to a nearby table and took up a heavy white robe, which he draped around her wet body. Smiling, she squeezed the water from her hair.
Vespasian donned a matching robe, then led her to one of several lounging sofas and bade her lie down. After filling two wine goblets resting on a nearby table, he handed one to her. As he sat down beside her, the look in his eyes became searching.
She reached out to touch his face. “It’s your night terrors, isn’t it?” she asked. “That’s what you need to talk about. I understand, my love. They would frighten anyone. But the two guards have been killed. Only I know your secret, and it will never leave my lips.”
Looking down at his goblet, Vespasian shook his head. “It’s more than that,” he said. He took a deep breath. “There is something that I must ask you to do for me. It will be dangerous, but I hope that you will consent.”
“I would do anything for you, you know that,” she answered softly.
Vespasian put down his goblet. “I want you to accompany me on the new campaign,” he said simply. “We leave in one week.”
Persephone was overjoyed. Her eyes widened and she took a quick breath.
“You know that I will!” she said.
Tears started welling up in her eyes. She had desperately feared watching him go to war, just as she had done all the times before. But this time was different. This was to be an all or nothing campaign, and the greater dangers involved had been driving her nearly mad with worry. As Vespasian brushed away her tears, a short laugh of relief escaped her. At least if he dies I will die with him, she thought.
“But why this time?” she asked. “I have never accompanied you before.”
As Vespasian sipped his wine his eyes took on a thoughtful, faraway look.
“There are several reasons,” he answered. “First and foremost, I have not been convinced by thePon Q’tar
