A Sword Of Wrath, Book I - K. E. MacLeod (nonfiction book recommendations .TXT) 📗

He rolled the parchment into a scroll and then sealed it by pressing his family ring into a dollop of melted wax, leaving behind the image of hound. He then handed it to Jason and ordered him to go immediately to his home, which was located within the walls of the city, and escort his family away from Odalia and the White Palace as soon as was possible.

After making sure that the young servant was safely away, a relieved but weary Timonus removed his armor and laid it atop his nearby bed. He stared at the shiny metal sections before him and wondered what his life would have been like had he never donned them all those years ago. He had been so young, in retrospect. So young but so willing to die for the country that he so loved dearly.

Timonus' thoughts drifted to the Emperor, the man and friend that he had served for the last decade, who was growing more and more outlandish in his demands by the day. Timonus wondered briefly if he should continue to serve him, knowing that innocent men, women and children were dying on a nearly daily basis.

But, what choice did he have? He would never be able to dissuade the Emperor, nor would he be left alive if he even dared make an attempt. How would his family survive if he were not there to protect them? Timonus brushed his fingers across the feathers of the helm that marked him as Legate of Lycania. No, he would never abandon his post, not only for the safety of his family, but also for the fear that someone very different from he, someone without a conscience, would replace him. He couldn't do that to the country, or the people, that he served.

Clad only in his tunic, Timonus walked over to the hearth to warm his legs, the fire within it burning golden in the small room. He held his hands out to the flames and lifted his eyes towards the prayer statue that rested upon the small mantle above. It was of the Mother Wolf giving succor to the Two Brothers.

Timonus reached up and touched it gingerly, closing his eyes as he did. He had never felt such confusion, such guilt, in his lifetime. He felt as if he had been cast adrift into the ocean, alone, with no way to return to the safety and security of the shore.

He slowly knelt before the Mother Wolf and clasped his hands together, something he had not done since he was a child. They began to shake slightly as he prayed, “Dear Mother, who guides her children, what is it that I must do?" His eyes searched the statue's lupine features, "I have served you and my Emperor well... but the things he asks of me now..." Timonus swallowed deeply, "I... I don't know which path to take. If I no longer follow my Emperor, am I not betraying my country and Your Grace?" He shook his head, "But what of her people? And the innocents that have already been slain?" He grimaced and fell forward onto his palms while a new wave of shame washed over him as the memories of Lord Heron's lifeless body being removed from the palace under the cover of darkness filled his mind.

His chest began to constrict as he confessed from the deepest parts of his soul, "He was an innocent man." Timonus lowered his forehead to the floor, his lips nearly brushing against the cold tiled floor as he continued to speak, "...an innocent man and I let him die... He did nothing wrong and I-I walked away... I left him there, even when I knew that death was awaiting him!" He lifted his head and looked up towards the statue, tears and desperation shining in his eyes, "I did nothing! I... I was too afraid! Dear Mother, what must I do now to absolve myself of these sins? How do I right these wrongs? How do I get that face, so full of hope for his daughter's return, out of my mind? Please... Dear Lady... answer me in my time of need. Please..." He stayed upon his knees for a little while longer, hunched over in benediction, even as the only reply he received was silence.

Timonus was unsure of how long he had knelt there when a knock had come upon his door. He stood quickly and rinsed his hands and face in the nearby washbasin and as he patted them dry with a cloth, he temporarily wiped away any evidence of his previous anguish.

Timonus then opened the door and was surprised to see that it was Lucan standing before him.

"May I enter?" the nervous man asked.

The Legate glowered for a brief moment before relenting, "Yes, come in." He shut the door behind the Advisor.

Lucan's balding gray head shone in the low firelight, "I came here at the behest of several others."

"Yes, and you were probably followed."

The man's normally tiny eyes widened as he looked around the room in terror, "I... I never thought-"

Timonus was short with him, "It doesn't matter now. What do you want?"

"It isn't just me. As I said, I've come at the behest of several others who fear our Emperor is no longer able to rule-"

Timonus shook his head angrily, quickly cutting off anything else that the other man had to say, "How dare you come here! You know that I cannot speak against-"

"Yes, yes, I do know, which is why I don't want you to speak. I only want you to listen." Lucan steepled his fingers again as he had done earlier in the curia when he stood before the Emperor, "As you well know, I have served His Majesty for just as long as you and-and I, too, like you, have served his father." He bit his lip nervously, then continued, "But, the Peacebringer, he was very different from Tiberius. The Peacebringer, while ambitious and self-serving, also knew that it was only by the will of the people that he and his family were allowed to remain on the throne."

Timonus kept silent.

Lucan continued, "So, he knew to keep the people fed, clothed and working. If he did that, the people would leave him to do as he pleased. But, Tiberius," he shook his head, "he isn't like his father and though he won't acknowledge it, the will of the people has changed. And it isn't just the Ala District, the fervor is spreading throughout all of Odalia and soon our very lives are going to be at risk of being caught up in the violence as well!" Lucan wiped his sweating forehead, "I-I know that you cannot say anything, Legate, but I also know that you sense it as I do. As we all do!" He met the Legate's eyes, "Something must be done!"

Timonus still did not speak.

Lucan persevered, despite being decidedly uncomfortable with the Legate's continued silence, "Look, I am not asking you to do anything at the moment. It's too early and a misstep now would cause our immediate demise by the Emperor's own hand." He shook his head at the thought, "No, no. You do what you must for now, Legate. Go to Feronia with the venefica but when you return, Odalia, and thus, Lycania, may be a very different place from the one you know now. If such a thing should occur, those that have sent me wish to know if we would be able to count you among our numbers?"

The Legate's gaze moved towards the statue of the Mother Wolf on the mantle just past Lucan's shoulder. Could he risk his life to betray that which he loved the most? Would he be strong enough? Should he?

In answer to the Advisor's question, as well as his own, Timonus, ever so slowly and almost imperceptibly, nodded his head in agreement.

* * *

"1... 2... 3, again! 1... 2... 3, again!" The gladiatorial lanista, Euric the Vandal, paced from one end of the wooden dais to the other, casually eating olives from his hand as he shouted out commands to the less than able recruits. His two trainers, Felix and Castor, weaved throughout their ranks, forcefully correcting any mistakes they saw with their giant leather whips.

Euric shouted indignantly at the recruits in his dark, raspy voice, "Shape up, you pigs, or I swear I'll work you until your legs rot off! 1... 2... 3, again! You will learn to fight my way or die your own! 1... 2... 3, again!"

At the end of the dais was Juko, naked and tied to a post with his arms stretched straight up above his head. He had been that way for a little over twenty-four hours as he was being used as an example for the other fighters to show them the consequence of disobedience. His punishment had come quickly and without hesitation after his adamant refusal to take to the training arena when commanded to, despite being told what would happen if he did not.

Euric shouted down to Castor, "Take over for me before I do something to these worthless vermin that I'll regret!" The lanista walked over to the exhausted and sore N’bari and quipped, "Do you think that you impress me by not crying out?"

"I... don't care... what... impresses you," Juko looked upon the other man with fire in his dark eyes, despite the pain that burned within his shoulders.

Euric nonchalantly tossed another olive into his mouth, "And I don't understand why you refuse to fight. Your brother certainly never did."

"I don't... refuse to fight," Juko answered the Vandal. "I refuse... to fight... for you."

Euric seemed unbothered by the N'bari's response and replied simply, "Well, if you don't, you will die in the arena. Suna knew this-"

"Stop speaking of him!" Juko shouted at the Vandal with the last reserves of his energy.

Euric frowned, "I have told you before that I was genuinely sorry for your loss but I cannot change the rules. If you'd rather die than fight, that's your decision but it won't bring your brother back nor will it help you find out what really happened to him."

"You do not... understand. I don't care if I die... I cannot return to my father... a failure."

Euric snapped, "It's not your fault your brother is dead!"

"It won't matter... to my father..."

Euric stared at the stubborn young man before him and, despite himself, began to chuckle whilst shaking his head, "I won't be able to break you, will I?"

"You can... try...," Juko looked up at him with hooded brown eyes.

Euric leaned in again, whispering, "Listen to me, son, I know who killed your brother and if you want to avenge him, dying in the arena will do you no good."

Juko swallowed, though it did nothing to alleviate his dry throat, "You know... who killed him?"

"Yes, and I also know why," Euric stepped back to face the N'bari warrior. "You fight for me and I'll tell you everything." He popped the last olive that was in his hand into his mouth. "What do you say?"

Juko studied the Vandal's broad face and deep-set eyes to see if he was lying. After a few moments, he stated simply, "I think... I do not like you."

Euric laughed a deep, throaty chortle, "Your brother said the same thing when we first met and just as I told him then, I will tell you now: you do not have to like me, just fight for me."

"Do you... really know who killed him?"

The Vandal nodded once, "I am a great many things, my son, but a liar, I am not."

"Then... cut me free."

With a swift and graceful motion, Euric produced a hidden dagger from beneath his robes. He reached around the post and began to slice through the ropes that bound the N'bari's wrists to it. As he did, he moved in closer and whispered, "There are rumors that the woman escaped."

Juko angrily whispered back, "I care not for this... 'woman'."

"Well, your brother seemingly