Arts of Dark and Light: Book 01 - A Throne of Bones (86 page)

“Are you ready?” he asked Sextus Valerius. “You look good. But a little nervous. There’s no need to be nervous. You’re only one of thirteen or fourteen couples being announced. Once everyone realizes what two houses are connected to the betrothal, there will be so much commotion among the crowd that you could probably consummate the marriage right there on the table without anyone noticing.”

“You have a delicate way with words, Aulus Severus the Younger.”

“Oh, do call me that, brother. It makes me sound so philosophical.”

Sextus grinned absently, but his eyes were far away.

“What are you thinking about?” Aulan asked.

“My brother: Gaius. He should have been the one to marry Severa, not me. He’d be running for quastor in a few years. I’m only standing for tribune this winter because, well, because I’m supposed to.”

“I’m sorry about Fortex,” Aulan said, not entirely insincerely. “I once met a centurion who served with him. He said he was the bravest officer he’d ever seen.”

“Yes, well, we all know how bravery is rewarded in the legions. Fortunately, I’m in no danger of that. With any luck, at the conclusion of my brief military career, the very few people who recognize my name will say that I never actually shit myself despite the popular assumption.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it. Most of the foot shit themselves sooner or later. It’s not like anyone is excused from the ranks in the middle of a battle in order to visit the trenches. Of course, in the cavalry one can usually slide off one’s horse, do the dirty, and catch up again.”

“I wouldn’t have thought it possible, but you make my future career sound even less appealing than I’d imagined. You’d make one hell of a recruiter, Aulus Severus. So tell me, does your sister actually like me?”

The Valerian glanced at him, and Aulan could see the vulnerability in the other’s dark brown eyes. It almost made him wince; Severa would have the man eating out of her hand and performing tricks in public within a month.

“Strangely, I do believe she does. You’re tall, you’re handsome, and you’re not a fat, fifty-year old heir to a minor house, which I happen to know is the fate she always feared would come to pass one day. She must have gotten offers for her hand from three-quarters of our father’s clients, and he’s got more than a thousand, you know. So, she’s got every reason to be glad you’re the one he chose for her. She’s a headstrong girl, she knows what she wants, and she’s probably the only one in Amorr besides my mother who can talk my father round. Believe me: If she didn’t like you, if she didn’t want to marry you, then she wouldn’t go through with the betrothal, no matter how it served the political interests of our fathers.”

That wasn’t strictly true, he realized even as the words came out of his mouth. Severa would go ahead with the betrothal in their father’s interests, if he told her to. She simply wouldn’t follow through with the marriage. But there was no sense in telling the Valerian that. The poor man was nervous enough already.

“As for the tribuneship, if you like, I’ll put in a word with Falconius Buteo for you. That’s assuming you’re willing to serve in a Severan legion, of course.”

“I don’t see why not.” Sextus shrugged. “My cousin is with the new Valerian legion, but I don’t think my father will be too keen on me serving under my uncle. Anyway, they’re still on campaign in goblin country, which sounds absolutely dreadful. Not much in the way of local flavor, if you know what I mean.”

“Depends on your tastes, I suppose.” Aulan laughed at the look of horror on Sextus’s face. “Not that mine run to breeds. But you do recall that you’re about to get yourself betrothed to my sister, right?”

“From what you tell me, I’ll be standing around shitting myself in some barbarian hellhole before I have the chance to make her any vows, let alone break them.”

“Look, I’m only saying that if you want a place in one of our legions, you’ll have one.” Aulan didn’t feel inclined to throw any stones, considering that he was half-contemplating returning to the legion by a circuitous route that would permit him to visit Lucarus’s fat-breasted young friend with the red hair again. “Fulgetra would be best. In addition to the fact that the only women in the vicinity won’t be goblins, I think I can ensure you that no one will chop your head off for excessive courage, or anything else.”

“No fear of that,” Sextus said as they heard the crowd cheer the previous couple. It was time. “Aulan, thanks. I appreciate it.”

“Thank Buteo. It will be his call in the end.”

“No, not for that. For this. For standing by me here today. My brother should have been here, but you did a damned good job of standing in for him. For a Severan.”

Aulan smiled and clapped the younger man on his maroon-cloaked shoulder. “It’s my honor. We’ll make a Severan of you yet, Sextus Valerius.

“
Virtus et civitas
,” the Valerian replied theatrically. “See, your sister already has me trained.”

“Good to see you lads are getting along,” announced Valerius Magnus as he joined them.

The prodigious belly of the ex-consul strained against the tightly-tailored wool of Magnus’s grey tunic. Like Sextus, he wore the Valerian colors, although his maroon cloak was embroidered with an elaborate pattern around the border that presumably had some significance that was lost on Aulan. He looked a little somber for what was nominally supposed to be a joyful occasion, but seemed to have otherwise recovered from the mourning period that had caused his withdrawal from public affairs.

“Now let’s move along,” Magnus said. “The archbishop has finally finished with the last of the equestrians, and there are only three other patrician couples being presented, so it’s time for you to take your places.”

They were close enough to hear the cheering that greeted the most recent betrothal, and Aulan wondered what sort of response would meet the news of the first Valerian-Severan alliance in two hundred and fifty years. No doubt word had leaked out to his father’s more important allies and clients, most of whom would be there out of courtesy, but he was sure it would be a real surprise to most of the people gathered in the large square to see the newly betrothed couples presented to the public on the rostra.

Their flame-lit path circled behind the crowd. It was an unearthly experience, thought Aulan. It felt almost religious, and he wasn’t even the one about to stand before the people at the side of his wife-to-be. How long would it be before he was the one making this silent, ritual march with his father and one of his brothers at his side? Next year? He hoped not, even though knew he would have little more say than Severa had had in the matter.

They reached the stone stairs and mounted them, with Magnus taking the lead. The archbishop was just raising his hand in blessing the last couple, a Falconian marrying a girl from one of the House’s lesser branches—a Falconius Licinus it appeared—as the three of them reached the platform and looked out upon the gathered crowd.

Aulan nearly whistled, the Comitium was as crowded as he’d ever seen it. There must have been five or six thousand people pressed together in the square. It looked almost like a legionary assembly. Presumably rumors that something unusual was in the works had attracted many who would be normally be celebrating the first night of the Hivernalia in a more conventional manner at one of the many parties and balls being thrown tonight. The Severan ball was traditionally held on the Tenth Night, though Aulan had always thought the Fifth Night would be more fitting, given its location.

Sextus was looking at something to their left, and Aulan grinned as he saw his father assist Severa in taking her place upon the rostra, followed by a slender young woman in a simple white gown who was serving as her honor maiden. He couldn’t see the expression on Severa’s face, as first she was looking out at the crowd, and then she turned to say something to his father.

Underneath her fox fur cape, her traditional betrothal gown was red, testifying that she was a woman capable of providing heirs, but even in the uncertain light of the torches he could see hers was the dark scarlet of House Severus rather than the lighter shade that was customarily used. Sextus didn’t seem to notice, but Magnus did, and he raised a hairy eyebrow eyebrow in Aulan’s direction.

Then Severa glanced toward them and, despite the loud cheering that greeted the presentation of the newly betrothed Falconian pair, he could hear Sextus catch his breath.

Even Aulan had to admit his sister looked spectacular. Her face was painted boldly, almost like an actor’s, to enable her to stand out before the crowd, and it gave her natural beauty an inhuman quality, as if she were not a woman, but a demigoddess. And when she smiled at her husband-to-be, her white teeth almost seemed to gleam in the dancing firelight. It boded well, he thought, for the future of their two Houses.

The cheers died down, and an anticipatory hush filled the air.

The archbishop turned toward the six of them. His deep voice echoed off the stones of the surrounding buildings as he asked the ritual question. “Who comes this First Night to offer this maiden to the men of the People? By what right do you offer her?”

“I, Aulus Severus Patronus, of House Severus, offer her, by right of fatherhood.”

“And what price do you demand?”

“An alliance with my House.”

The archbishop turned back toward the crowd and spread his hands dramatically. “Is there a man who will claim this daughter of House Severus and take her in pure and holy matrimony?”

“I will claim her!” Sextus said loudly, his voice cracking a little. A few people in the otherwise quiet crowd tittered a little at his nervousness. “I will meet the price.”

“And you are…?”

“Sextus Valerius, of House Valerius.”

An audible gasp swept through the Comitium like a wave. There were some cheers, hastily silenced, as well as a few cries of disbelief, although Aulan could not tell if they were from Severan or Valerian clients. It was clear there were many who had not heard the rumors of the unlikely alliance in the works.

“This man will meet your price, Severus Patronus. Will you accept his offer?”

He nodded imperiously. “I will accept it.”

“Then come to me, Sextus Valerius. Come to me, daughter of House Severus.”

Sextus and Severa stepped forward together and stood side by side. Sextus extended his left and and Severa her right.

The archbishop bound them together with a long piece of red yarn that he quickly wrapped around their wrists, then tied off with an expert flourish. That accomplished, he took their joined hands in both of his long-fingered hands and pronounced his blessing upon the betrothal. “The contract is complete. May the Almighty God bless you and your Houses.”

Both Sextus and Severa looked startled, even a little alarmed, at the roar of approval that greeted them from the crowd. Patronus and Magnus, astute politicians both, were quick to take advantage of the moment, stepping forward to stand on either side of their children and acknowledging the cheers with triumphant smiles and lordly waves.

The warmth of the people’s reception to the news of this unexpected union brought home to Aulan how unsettled they had been of late. The defeat in Cynothicum and death of a consul followed by the loss of a popular and long-reigning Sanctiff, to say nothing of the celestine murders and the Sacred College’s months-long indecision, was troubling enough to the average patrician who had some understanding of these affairs. But to the plebians, who could do no more than observe the travails of their betters and suffer through them in ignorance as best they could, it must have looked as if the world were going mad.

To see the two most formidable Houses Martial unite rather than fight must have come as a massive relief to them, a harbinger that the horrible events of the past year would come to an end with the year itself. What a pity that that was so unlikely to be the case, although the addition of Magnus would severely weaken the clausores even as it strengthened the position of his father and the auctares. But it was good to afford them at least one moment of hope. Indeed, an increased popularity with the masses could even be useful in forcing the necessary changes through the always-recalcitrant Senate. If Valerius Magnus could be won over, then who was to say that even the most conservative clausor might not see reason in time?

Aulan offered his arm to his sister’s lady-in-waiting, and they descended the rostra in the wake of Sextus, Severa, and their fathers. He didn’t recognize her, although she looked vaguely vamiliar and had a Crescentian look to her.

“What’s your name?” he asked her as well-wishers engulfed the betrothed couple. She was rather pretty, he could see now that her face wasn’t lost in the shadows.

“Pomponia,” she said shyly, looking down.

“Pomponia? Your father is Pomponius Mathus? Why, I remember you! You stayed with us in Salventum one summer. Good lord, you’ve grown!”

She did not look up at him, but she smiled. “Lady Severa looks lovely tonight, don’t you think? And Lord Valerius, he is so very handsome.”

“Do you think so?” he asked, feeling somewhat deflated. Not that she wasn’t right, damn it all, but he didn’t see that she needed to sound so enthusiastic about it. “Yes, I suppose he is.”

They reached the bottom of the steps, and now they too were surrounded by the press of clients and allies. All were eager to congratulate Patronus, not so much on the betrothal of his daughter as on the strategic political masterstroke it represented. The patricians in the crowd understood, as the equestrians and common plebians did not, that the balance of power in the Senate had just shifted as dramatically as if an earthquake had shaken the Comitium. But this was not a night to contemplate the consequences—it was a night for celebration.

House Severus was there in force, of course. Aulan saw his uncle Titus, as well as three of his older cousins, Septimus, Serenus, and Gallus. Pompilius Ferratus, who was some sort of distant relation to the girl on his arm was there, as was the consul provincae, Fulvius Falernus. To his surprise, he also saw that on this First Night the Senate appeared to have put its politics and party rivalries to the side. His father’s most powerful ally, Falconius Metius, was among the first to greet Valerius Magnus, while two of the leading clausores, Cassianus Longinus and Laelius Flamininus, were warmly congratulating Sextus and Severa. Longinus, in particular, was complimenting his sister’s beauty in such a flowerly manner that she appeared to be uncharacteristically blushing.