I frown. Aemilius Volenis is Belli’s father, the proconsul in Sytrece. Apowerful man. His semi-open ties to Governance there often bring him into conflict with his own senatorial pyramid, but he’s still ostensibly Military.
“We cannot. Not while matters remain as they are here.” A voice that seems to shudder through the walls, not with volume but with sheerpower. I flinch, and Diago’s hackles raise beneath my cautioning hand on his head.
Princeps Exesius. It has to be.
Ostius brings us to a stop as we hug the wall, several feet short of the opening. He places one hand on my metal arm and one on Diago’s shoulder, who gives the softest of displeased rumbles but doesn’t otherwise react. “It seems that we’re in time. Let’s just stay here for a minute or two.”
A pause from inside, as if others are recovering from the impact of the Princep’s voice, and then someone else. Reedy, in comparison to what came before. “Then we must consider the Senate’s demands. At least some of them.” Immediate shouts of disapproval, but he presses on. “I like it no more than you, but theyarebeing reasonable. If we do not disband the—”
“Do you think they will stop there?” I recognise Dimidius Quiscil’s baritone as he interjects, Indol’s father more dismissive than angry. “Their demands are reasonable because theyknowthat it is the only way we might be fooled into weakening ourselves. But as soon as we retreat, they will advance. They will take, not negotiate. We all know this.” A pause, and then, “Exesius, with all respect, Volenis has declared us traitors to the Republic, and he is massing an army. If we do not meet his accusations with force, Governance and Religion will seize upon them and be emboldened to move against us. And if we do not show the other provinces strength, there is enough discontent that it will only foment more rebellion. More pretenders. He is a threat. We must act.”
“He is a father grieving a daughter who you killed through your ill-advised actions. You did not listen to me then, and look where it has led—so listen to me now. Wecannotafford civil war, Quiscil. We must protect Birthright at all costs. Even to our detriment.”
“In case you were wondering who knew,” whispers Ostius, nudging me cheerfully. He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t see my clenched fists. My shortness of breath.
“Civil war iscoming.” Tertius Ciserius, I think; the man is rarely short of an opinion, and I listened to him for hours in that tunnel in Suus.
“Neither Regnus nor Pitorius will allow one to start. You have my word. And as for Aemilius, he does not have access to a Transvect. It will take himweeks to march here. Weeks during which his emotions will settle, and we will make our peace with the Senate. When he is faced with the reality of a united Caten, he will be far more in the mood to negotiate.” He sighs, and even that seems to pound through the stone. “If war is still unavoidable at that point, then it is unavoidable. But we must do all we can to see that it is not.”
“And all the while, we let the jackals feast? Yet you wonder why we tried to take matters into our—” comes another voice I don’t recognise. Coarse and disagreeable, the rebuttal drowned out as it sparks another round of shouted arguing.
“They are afungroup,” murmurs Ostius, entirely relaxed, even as he puts a cautioning finger to his lips. “Can you sense the Will in there?”
“Of course.” It’s like a thundering drum to my senses.
“In them, or imbued?”
I pause. Close my eyes and focus. “In them, I think.” Imbued Will is … sharper, for want of a better word.
He sighs. Nods. “Patience, then.”
Through jangling nerves that make me twitch at every imagined movement in the corridor behind us—and keeping one hand firmly on Diago’s head, an unconscious command to stay still and quiet which he seems to understand—I try to concentrate on the conversation again. Vociferous on both sides, but to my surprise, it seems as though there’s a robust argument for Military to back down. To accede to at least some of Governance and Religion’s demands, and disband the majority of their armies. In fact, as the minutes pass, much of the argument gradually turns from whether it should be done, to how to word an agreement with the rest of the Senate on the timing in order to still be able to stop Quintus Volenis’s legions.
“Is there really a coup?” I whisper eventually. It would certainly explain their abrupt departure from the Forum.
Ostius chuckles. “Theycertainly think so.”
Before I can ask, the Princeps’s powerful voice cuts through the hubbub again, quieting the room. “Enough.” A hint of impatience behind the command. “The arguments have been heard and the longer we delay, the more dangerous our absence in the Forum becomes. So let us weigh the matter before us now. Governance and Religion are on edge and they will not believe our departure justified forever, despite the assurances I have sent.”
“Which we intercepted,” whispers Ostius gleefully.
There’s a chorus of muttered assent. The shuffling of feet, and then, “Very well. Let us discover the Will of the people.”
Ostius abruptly stretches, sending a sick shock of nerves through me. “Our time has come. Is the Will imbued now?”
I check. Nod slowly. “Into the floor?” Strange.
A deep, grinding noise echoes from ahead of us. Fills the hallway.
“Indeed. Take off your sandals. I’m going to talk. And you’re going to Adopt that Will.”
“All of it?”
“All of it.” He eyes me, hearing my unease even as I whisper for Diago to stay—the men beyond might easily infer my identity from his presence—and make myself barefoot. Seeing me wondering, dreading. “Or you can leave some for them to kill us with later. I’ll leave it up to you.”
He smiles cheerfully. Pats me on the back.
Strides into Military’s inner chamber.
