voiced an outraged protest. The Suffragat had then bickered for hours like maids at the market until Vespasian became disgusted and finally used his power of official decree to proclaim Flavius as the new Imperator Tempitatus, or temporary ruler. Flavius was well aware of how he had come to be chosen, the emperor’s defiant act further cementing his well-known allegiance to Vespasian even more.
Hoping that he had chosen wisely, Vespasian took another deep breath, then turned to again look at the man who would serve in his stead. If there was ever a stalwart tribune, it was Flavius.
Short, stocky, and sturdy as a marble column, Flavius wore a neatly trimmed red beard. Dark blue eyes and a flat, crooked nose that had been crushed twice in battle highlighted his imposing face. His hair was red, close- cropped, and thinning slightly at the temples. As he stood before Vespasian he looked splendid in his dress uniform, complete with golden breastplate and matching gauntlets, greaves, and blood-red cape.
Flavius was a devoted family man with a loving wife named Atia and three sons of fully endowed blood, each of whom was a centurion in the famed Twenty-fifth Legion. Vespasian knew that watching their sons go would be hard for Flavius and Atia, but their loyalty to the empire was unswerving.
He looks every bit the commanding emperor, Vespasian thought as he studied Flavius. That is good, for his lot here will not be an easy one.
Vespasian glanced over Flavius’ shoulder to give the First Tribune a questioning look. Lucius took another sip of wine, thinking. After placing the wine goblet back atop the table he nodded, signaling his agreement. Vespasian looked back into Flavius’ eyes.
“Very well, then,” he said simply. “It is done.”
Walking to his desk, Vespasian took up a rolled-up parchment and a gold ring, then walked back to stand before Flavius. He handed the parchment to the new Imperator Tempitatus. Flavius accepted it gratefully.
“This official decree holds my and Gracchus’ signatures,” Vespasian said. “It is also marked with my seal, further proving that I have appointed you to your new station. In the absence of the Suffragat it additionally empowers you to declare martial law and to do away with the right to trial should you see fit. If a revolt arises, immediately set an example by executing several of the suspected rabble-rousers. Their guilt or innocence is unimportant-nothing deters anarchy like very sudden and very public killings. Make their deaths slow and gruesome before giving their bodies to the usual lot of corpse collectors and bone grinders.”
Vespasian then handed the gold signet ring to Flavius. It was a gorgeous piece of jewelry, produced overnight on the emperor’s order. The letterF was deeply inscribed into the face of the ring. Vespasian watched as Flavius reverently placed it onto the third finger of his right hand.
“Guard that ring with your life, just as I guard mine,” Vespasian said. “It is the only way that I will know that your messages are genuine. Most of your communiques will be by mental communion with Gracchus. But if you wish to tell me something in secret, send a parchment containing your seal by messenger bird. It will take longer, but I will have no doubt of its veracity.”
Flavius gave Vespasian another crisp salute. “All will be as you order,” he said. Then he stepped nearer and placed one hand atop Vespasian’s shoulder. “And I thank you for this honor,” he said softly.
Vespasian gave a short laugh. “Don’t thank me yet, old friend,” he said wryly. “The time for that will be if I come home laden with Shashidan gold.”
“You meanwhen!” Lucius laughingly shouted.
Vespasian looked over to see that the First Tribune had risen to his feet. Taking another slug of wine, he smiled broadly, then sauntered past Vespasian and Flavius and out onto the balcony. The impatient crowd promptly roared again, this time so loudly that it nearly hurt everyone’s ears. Smiling, Lucius turned back to look at Vespasian.
“Now that the formalities are over, it’s high time we got going!” he said with a wink. “Those poor civilians waiting down there are starting to wilt.”
Vespasian nodded at Lucius, then looked at Persephone and reached out to her.
“My love,” he said simply.
Persephone rose from the table to take her husband’s hand. As she did so, Vespasian stretched his other hand out toward Flavius. The Imperator Tempitatus responded by slapping his palm against the inside of Vespasian’s forearm and grasping it firmly, signaling the common greeting between devoted legionnaires.
Vespasian smiled. “Walk out with us,” he said to Flavius. “I want the people to see you standing by my side in your new role. It will help to cement the transition.”
Vespasian raised one hand and called the craft. As the massive doors parted and Persephone, Lucius, and Flavius passed through, Vespasian paused for a moment to take a last look around the room in which he had agonized over so many difficult decisions. For better or worse, from this day forward all of his choices would be made in the field. Finally he turned and followed the others out.
In the end it would take hours for Vespasian’s lead chariot, Persephone’s personal litter, the litters of thePon Q’tar members and Julia Idaeus, and the two valiant legions that would return to serve under Flavius’ command to navigate the broad forum and wend their way among the thousands of adoring citizens. Trumpeters and drummers heralded Vespasian’s departure while untold multitudes of colorful handkerchiefs waved and thousands more flower petals rained down from windows and balconies. In two days the procession would link up with the remaining twenty-eight legions awaiting them at the fountainhead of the Six Rivers, near the boundary of the Borderlands. From there thePon Q’tar ’s azure portals would transport them the thousands of leagues to where the fighting would start in earnest. It would be a campaign like no other, and regardless of its success or failure, it would forever change the fate of Rustannica.
As Vespasian guided his two white stallions through the forum and toward the city limits, even now he worried about the great venture that he had birthed. Little did he understand the ever-rising danger of what he had set in motion, for there were forces awaiting him the likes of which no Rustannican emperor had ever seen.
Deciding to meet his destiny head-on, Vespasian grimly slapped his reins across the stallions’ haunches.
CHAPTER XXVI
FROM HIS VANTAGE POINT ON THE CAVE FLOOR TRISTAN looked up to watch ever more Minion warriors walk down the stone steps and enter the Caves of the Paragon. The torches they carried cast macabre shadows across the cave walls, reminding him of how eerie this beautiful place could be.
Wigg, Scars, Tyranny, Astrid, Phoebe, and Jessamay stood nearby, each of them stunned into silence by this wondrous place. Tristan had come here several times before and he knew what this first chamber looked like. But some members of his party had never visited here, and amazement registered on their faces. Despite Tristan’s familiarity with the Caves, their magnificence again took his breath away.
The journey to the Caves had been uneventful, but Tristan and his group remained unaware of how to find the Azure Sea. As a precaution, each warrior carried a supply of food and potable water strapped across his or her back, in case the search became protracted. But Tristan still hoped that they might somehow find the sea without great difficulty, allowing them to soon be on their way to Shashida. Looking around again, he recalled what he knew of this sacred place.
The Caves had supposedly been carved out of living rock aeons ago by the Ones Who Came Before, but no one on the eastern side of the Tolenkas knew for sure. The Conclave believed that a previousJin’Sai andJin’Saiou had used the caves as a hiding place for the Tome and the Paragon after their unsuccessful bid to secure their destinies, and one could only assume that they were long dead.
More than three hundred years ago, Wigg had found the Caves quite by accident. The Paragon had been suspended amid the rushing red waterfall, the vibrant waters supporting the life of the stone while it awaited its new masters. Those new masters were to become the Directorate of Wizards, the Vigors mystics aligned against Failee, her Coven, and the forces of the Vagaries in the struggle known as the Sorceresses’ War. Had the two precious artifacts come into the possession of Failee rather than the Directorate, the world east of the Tolenkas might have become a far darker place.
As Tristan watched, Wigg raised one hand and called the craft to bring flame to the many torches lining the cavern walls. With the added light came a better view of this amazing first room.
Tristan and the others were standing on the floor of a huge, irregular underground cavern that was at least
