Spirit of the Sword: Pride and Fury (The First Sword Chronicles Book 1) (32 page)

People began to cheer, to press their congratulations upon Amy and Gideon, and it was only when Michael shouted that God's emissary was very weary that people began to leave them alone. Vas and his minotaurs began to shoo people away, leaving a clear route for Gideon to lead Amy, Jason and Tullia aside.

Michael stayed still, because Judah alone of all the people had not turned away. They looked at one another for a moment.

"Do you think the men who killed my parents are there?" Judah said. "Or Leahs? Or Ruth and Naboths?"

"Probably," Michael said.

"You should have taken me with you," Judah said.

"Why?" Michael said. "Is your skill at arms so great?"

"Do you think I'm a coward? I could fight."

"I said not otherwise, but a night raid is no place for an untrained lad," Michael said. "Would you even recognise the men you were looking for?"

"Yes," Judah said fiercely.

Michael sighed, "Better if you let them die at other hands. Do not seek them out."

"Why?"

"Because Turo gives us little for nothing, certainly not revenge," Michael said. "I slew the man who killed my brother, after seven years. Seven years in the course of which I had driven away my only friend and earned my sister's hatred. And after I killed him Felix was still dead, Miranda still despised me and I felt not a wit less bitter afterwards. Are you willing to pay that price? To have Naboth terrified of you, to have Ruth and Leah hate the man you have become? You have a family to take care of. Protect them, kill in their defence if you must for that is a worthy thing, and fitting for a Coronim. But once you start killing to assuage your pain you may find it hard to stop again.

"A battle may come, and you may not be given a choice to take up arms or not. But do not court that moment, whatever you do." Michael did not regret becoming a gladiator, or killing Judas. But he did regret the way that things had fallen between him and Miranda, and he had to bear the blame for that: he was the eldest, and it was his decisions that Miranda had objected to, not the other way around. He would spare Judah that pain of severance if he could.

Judah hesitated. "I... I'll think about it. I should be getting back to them."

Michael nodded. "God keep you all."

He followed the others into a deserted alleyway, and sat down beside Amy. Gideon sat in the middle of the rough circle, with Tullia and Jason on the other side.

"Now then," Gideon said. "As we are all here, we may as well begin the introductions. I know that Silwa has given you our names, but it is polite to exchange them in person: I am Gideon Commenae, and allow me to present my freedman Michael Sebastian Callistus Dolabella ban Ezekiel and Ser Amitiel Ameliora Doraeus ban Tiralon, Daughter of Niccolo, a knight of the Ocean Realm."

"It's Amy, and don't either of you forget it," Amy growled.

"There is another member of our growing band, by the name of Wyrrin of Arko, but he has this night departed Davidheyr on a mission of great urgency," Gideon concluded.

Jason's head bowed a little. "My name is Jason and this is my companion Tullia Athenaeus."

"Jason what?" Michael asked.

Jason's face bowed until his chin was resting on his chest as he muttered, barely loud enough to be heard, "Jason Nemon Filius."

Michael felt ashamed of himself for having raised the issue. You could tell a lot about somebody from their name in the Empire: the addition of Dolabella to the end of Michael's name identified him as a liberated bondsman to the Dolabella family, a man with Castra at the end of his name was a child of the legionary camps, while if he had no name but Castra it signified an uncertain parentage within those camps. But to be Nemon Filius, as Jason was, was to be the lowest of the low; it meant that there was no parent living or dead who would acknowledge you as their own, nor even the rough camaraderie of the army to take him in. A Son of No Man, the most miserable wretch in all the Empire. Small wonder he had not wished to shout it to the world.

He bowed his head. "I apologise for my crass conduct."

"You did not know," Jason replied stiffly.

"I suppose you take some consolation from being of the most noble lineage possible, even if the temporal advantages attendant upon being of the blood imperial are by law denied to you," Gideon remarked.

"The blood what?" Michael asked, he could have sworn that he had just heard Gideon say the blood imperial.

"You are that child, are you not?" Gideon said, still speaking to Jason, one eyebrow arching upwards, inviting a response.

Jason looked thoroughly wretched. Tullia reached out to put a hand to his shoulder, but he batted it aside before she could touch him. "How did you know?" he almost moaned such was his misery.

"Your skin is not the tone normally seen in the Imperial line, but your hair and eyes betray you," Gideon said. "Besides, surely you have heard of the notorious Gideon Commenae: the viper at the Empire's breast, the Butcher of Oretar? I was not always the despised outcast you see before you. I once moved in society, privy to all the gossip and scandal of the court. And I can recall no greater scandal than when an infant boy with the unmistakeable purple eyes of Aegea's line was left at the palace gates with a note claiming him to be the son of our Prince Imperial, Demetrius the Fifth. Very embarrassing for his majesty, as I recall, though I confess I did not follow your fortunes with any great interest."

"How dare you," Tullia said in a voice as crisp as the crackling of her lightning. "How dare you? Who are you to reveal secrets that are not yours to keep or share?"

"If we are to be comrades then it is as well that we be honest with one another, wouldn't you agree?" Amy asked.

"So then," Michael said haltingly as he took it in, "You are a prince in truth? A scion of the line of Emperors?"

"A bastard son only, and only that unhappily," Jason said.

"Niccolo's arms," Amy said. "Who would have thought?"

Michael stood up, and then dropped to one knee. "Your Highness, you are right welcome to our humble company. I pray you forgive the poor hospitality that is all we are presently capable of." Turonim law had no concept of bastardy, a man's son was his son regardless of the marital status of the mother. Prince Isaiah had sired a child out of wedlock born a few months before his first son by his wife, and it was the illegitimate son Ishmael who had been enrolled in the Firstborn, referred to as Prince Ishmael by his men, and eventually risen to the First Captaincy, commanding the Firstborn in the war against Deucalia.

"I am no prince," Jason repeated.

"You are as much a one as I have ever met," Michael said. "The son of an Emperor, scion of a proud and ancient line. Therefore is it not fitting I show you all the respect due to such, even as your own servant does? Surely you would not have me act your equal?"

"I would; it would make me far more comfortable than all this baseless flummery," Jason said.

"Your Highness knows he is as worthy of honour as any man at court, and more than most," Tullia said.

"I would ask you to cease also," Jason said. "But long experience has taught me the futility of it."

Michael could not believe that a prince would say such things. "But you are a prince, of a line superior, touched by the gods and set apart from the common run of men. How can you not understand the deference due your rank?"

"You are yourself of princely blood, I understand," Jason said. "And you do not ask me kneel to you."

"Of course not."

"Either it is blood which makes a man royal, in which case we are equals in it," Jason said. "Or it is temporal power and worldly authority, in which case we are equals again in powerlessness, are we not?"

"With all due respect to your highness, that is mere sophistry," Michael replied. "I am not descended from a ruling prince, merely the brother of one many generations passed, and my nobility so watered down with common blood as to be plebeian. Your father was Emperor, as now your brother is, and of a nation now at the zenith of its breadth and power. Surely you can see your claim to rank, to courteous deference and honourable treatment is infinitely greater than mine?"

"All I see is that monarchy and its attendant pretensions cause more harm than good, and the world would be well rid of them."

"You can't mean to say that you're a
republican
?" Gideon said, his tone making the word an insult.

"I am, and proudly too."

"But that's just... I mean you're the son of an Emperor," Amy said. "For you to think... it isn't possible. It is as ridiculous as a son of Turo denying the existence of God. Certainly it isn't right. How can you just disagree with everything that's gone before you?"

"Why, do naiads never think for themselves?" Jason smiled, to show he spoke in jest.

"Rarely, and not for long," Amy replied in deadly earnest. "If folk catch you at it they name it treason and feed you to the sharks."

The smile died from Jason's face. "Now you see why I want no part of monarchy."

"I suppose you are one of those people who would cast down the purple throne, dissolve the Empire into its attendant territories and let each city go its own way, making its own laws and choosing its own government until the world collapses into anarchy and destruction?" Gideon said.

"I am one of those who would restore to the common people their ancient liberties, yes," Jason said.

"Under normal circumstances I despise people such as you," Gideon said.

"And I despise those who commit bloody-handed murder and then hide behind a time of war, Butcher of Oretar," Jason said. "I now see why Silwa did not warn me of you in advance. Shall we simply say our positions cannot be reconciled and leave it at that?"

"Your highness, if I may," Michael had been watching Tullia's face, the melancholy that had accompanied Jason's denunciation of the royal power, and he was anxious to cease insults to Gideon's person without insulting the prince in his turn. "If you will not accept rank for yourself, then take it on behalf of your faithful servant."

Jason frowned, his eyes flickering toward Tullia. "What has she to do with this?"

Michael rolled his eyes at the thoughtlessness of some masters. "Filia, with respect, are you slave or free?"

"Free," Tullia replied. "But sworn to serve with chains more binding than any forged in iron."

Michael nodded. "Your highness, every slave and freedman knows that his honour and station are intimately bound up with those of his master. As a gladiator, I might hold myself higher than, say, the slave of a poor farmer because my master was a gentleman of high station and that station reflected upon we who served him. Now I serve Lord Gideon, thus I may hold myself higher still because my honour is but the borrowed sheen of his own."

And of course the reverse was true as well, that the achievements of a slave or freedman did not burnish up his own reputation but added to the lustre of his master's standing even as shameful behaviour spoke ill of said master. That was why Michael spoke to Jason as he did, in a lofty tone borrowed from the stories of his heroes, and watched his words carefully. "Your highness, this rejection of your rightful titles, this glib denial of your imperial heritage, it shames Filia Tullia by making her out to be servant to a small man of no consequence and offensive opinions. For her sake, will you not show some of the pride becoming in a man and the dignity incumbent in a prince?"

Jason looked confused. "Tullia, is this true?"

Tullia did not look at him, "It is not for one such as I to instruct Your Highness how to conduct yourself appropriate to your rank."

"So you believe all of this foolishness. Why are so many decent people so wedded to such nonsense?" Jason said. "Yet for your loyalty, and all that you have sacrificed for my sake, I would oblige you; save that I have not the first idea how to begin behaving in a princely fashion."

"In the courts beneath the sea such things would be taught to you by your father," Amy said. "Is it done differently here?"

"No, that is our way as well," Gideon said. "I fear that young Jason's education was sadly neglected, hence his falling prey to such deplorable influences as now hold sway over him."

"Deplorable only to some," Jason said. "Personally I count myself rather more fortunate than my half-siblings in the education we each recieved."

"Why would a prince come all the way out here with only one attendant for company anyway? Why not bring the household knights, or the guards or whatever you call them? And why come at all for only a dream?" Amy went on.

"His Highness is not obliged to answer any of your questions save at his own leisure," Tullia snapped. "He came to you in friendship and you have no right to interrogate him so."

"No, Tullia, I shall tell them," Jason sounded resigned, like a man going to his death. "If we are to be companions upon the road it would be an ill thing to begin our relationship with lies and evasions."

Tullia's expression was tense and she kept glancing at Jason as if concerned that his health would give out at any moment. Jason himself was still, wrapping his blue coat tight about himself and staring downwards at the dirty cobblestones.