child. Even Gracchus finally saw his mistake, but by then it was too late. He extended an olive branch by offering to adopt a child, but Cynthia had become too bitter, and her heart had fallen into too many pieces to be repaired. With her love for Gracchus irreparably shattered, she petitioned for divorce.
Save for service in the legions, from the beginning of the Rustannican Empire women enjoyed the same rights as men in all things. The right to petition for divorce was no different, and there was no social stigma attached to it. Moreover, when a divorce was granted, the woman could demand the return of her dowry, helping to ensure that she would have financial independence and not become a burden to the state.
This was especially true of the krithian class, in which dowries could reach fantastic sums, making divorce very expensive for the husband. Paying back a woman’s dowry was seen as a matter of honor. Any husband who refused or could not do so was socially ostracized, and his further advancement in Rustannican society remained unlikely until proper restitution was made. Even then the stigma remained, and few such recalcitrants saw their fortunes improve. Cynthia’s dowry had been huge, and its subsequent return from Gracchus’ coffers helped make her one of the richest women in Rustannica. With such wealth added to her great command of the craft and her membership in thePon Q’tar, she was a force to reckon with.
Gracchus watched as Cynthia lowered the hood of her robe. To this day she took his breath away, and he again felt his heart ache not only for the loss of his son, but for the loss of her love. That had been many centuries ago, and neither of them had remarried.
Granted the time enchantments at the young age of forty-three, she looked as lovely now as she did then. Her eyes were blue and wide-set; graceful eyebrows arched over them, lending them an exotic look. A mass of dense blond curls reached to her shoulders. Her graceful jawline was firm and strong, her lips full and inviting. Her form was seductive, its alluring shape only partly hidden by the ill-fitting robe.
Because of her many obvious attributes, it was said that over the centuries hosts of suitors had asked for her hand, but not one was chosen. It was also rumored that she had taken many lovers in an attempt to dull her grief, but not even Gracchus knew for sure.
As he looked again into her lovely face he wondered what she might say. Would it be a further condemnation of his failed plan? he wondered. Or would it be some other way to hurt him again for his mistakes of so long ago?
“You are forgetting something, Gracchus,” she said. “You are right when you say that because theJin’Sai sails the Azure Sea, we can no longer take direct action against him. But there is something more to this puzzle that you have avoided. I was wondering whether you might address it, but since you haven’t, I feel the need to do so in your stead.”
Gracchus steeled himself against her next words, for he now knew what she would say.
“What of his blood?” she asked. “We have been told that his blood will open many locked doors and remove many obstacles in his path, simply because of its majestic quality. As you know, this information was gleaned long ago from more than one highly placed Shashidan mystic whom we captured in battle and later tortured. The information was obtained many separate times over several centuries. Its veracity is irrefutable.”
Pausing for a moment, Cynthia gazed deeply into Gracchus’ eyes. As she did, he found the loss of her love far more defeating than anything else she might say.
“So tell us, Gracchus,” she said. “Might theJin’Sai ’s blood not guide him safely across the Azure Sea? Despite your reassurances, is there still not cause for great concern?”
“Perhaps,” he answered. “But you know as well as I that the information gleaned from those Shashidan mystics has never been tested. We have no way of knowing whether it is true. And after all, every one of our ships and crews that tried to cross that sea was never heard from again.”
A short smile crossed Cynthia’s lips. “In any event, because of your recent failures it seems we will soon have our answer,” she said. “And if the answer is the wrong one, all our plans for Vespasian might come to naught. You must judge the import of all that for yourself. I have already formed my opinions, and I find them distressing. Of perhaps even greater concern is that you promised Vespasian that the reigningJin’Sai couldn’t possibly leave his side of the world. Should that prove untrue, I for one would not wish to endure our emperor’s wrath. Your twisted creation might yet turn on you.”
Still on his feet, Benedik turned to again glare at Gracchus. “Cynthia is right,” he said. “What say you about all this?”
“I say that it doesn’t matter,” Gracchus announced, still refusing to be humbled. “We cannot know what will become of theJin’Sai. Thus it becomes pointless to worry about it. What will be will be. I will deal with Vespasian should the need arise. For now I suggest we discuss something about which wecan take immediate action.”
“And what is that?” Aegaea Mithridates asked.
“The destruction of theJin’Saiou, ” Gracchus answered. “Never forget that she carries equal importance. She must be dealt with while we still possess the means to do so. I know that the hour is late, but you must hear my plan.”
“Very well,” Benedik answered.
As the single lamp burned and the night wore on, Gracchus outlined his scheme to destroy Shailiha. In the end, even Cynthia Flavanius was impressed.
CHAPTER XXX
TRISTAN LEANED AGAINST THETAMMERLAND’S STERN gunwale watching the two Black Ships bound across the azure waves. Tyranny captained theTammerland while Scars skippered theEphyra. The wind was brisk and they were making good time. Then Tristan wondered about that.
Trying to gauge the ships’ progress in this strange place was frustrating, for the only way to do so was to watch the monolithic rock walls slip by on either side. One couldn’t estimate the rate of travel by looking up at the millions of glowing radiance stones embedded into the massive channel ceiling, for as Tyranny said, they showed no discernible pattern. Sailing this way was dangerous, the craggy walls waiting to tear the ships apart should they drift from their courses and strike them. To travel more safely, theEphyra followed theTammerland rather than sail beside her. With the dark walls looming on either side, Tristan couldn’t escape the gnawing feeling that they might be sailing straight into another trap.
He still had no answer as to why the dark walls had suddenly risen. They had not appeared the first time he visited the Azure Sea, nor had they been present during the first part of the battle against Khristos and the vipers. Only after Ox was ferrying Tristan toward the ships had the walls thundered up from the depths to meet the glowing cavern ceiling. But they surely existed now, and their overpowering presence disturbed him, for he could do little but watch the dark stone walls move silently by, their surfaces forbidding and treacherous.
The channel down which theTammerland andEphyra sailed was uncomfortably narrow. Tristan guessed it to be about one-eighth of a league wide. The riverlike channel trapped between the walls often snaked back and forth, making it impossible to see what lay beyond. Night Witch patrols had flown nearly to the point of no return, only to report that nothing laid ahead save for more of the same. Trying to navigate such treacherous waters was something that no one aboard had ever experienced.
Nerves were starting to fray, especially those of Tyranny and Scars. Their sure hands were constantly needed on the ships’ wheels, and Tristan knew that the privateer and her first mate grew more tired by the minute. Tristan guessed that when his mystics could sail the ships through the air they would be less subject to the whims of the wind and the water and the going would be safer. But he did not know when that might be, so until then they could only press on atop the waves.
Four hours had passed since they set sail. Or at least that was what the ships’ hourglasses said. But Tristan wondered whether even time could be confidently measured here. Not long ago he and Tyranny had guessed that the sage-colored light emitted from the radiance stones might never dim. If so, there would be no night, and that phenomenon would bring problems all its own. Sleep patterns would be disrupted, forcing the Minions to rest belowdecks in rotating shifts. Moreover, the great ships could not stop and weigh anchor, for although soundings had been taken, the channel bottom was never found.
Still, some encouraging signs remained. A water sample taken from the channel revealed that it was fresh, rather than salty, granting them an unlimited supply of drinking water. Even so, he ordered that the azure channel
