Ipush.
There’s a thud as the stone rejoins the ground, sand spraying from the impact. I barely manage to stay upright on my follow-through, pouring Will into my legs as I flail and skid to a stop. Appearances are as important as results, here.
Murmurs from those up on the hill. Silence from those nearby. I don’t look at them, instead staring intently at the stone. Mentally measuring, even as Tullius starts pacing it out.
“Forty-eight.” He calls it, ostensibly to me but undoubtedly for the benefit of those watching, too. There’s undisguised surprise in his tone.
Forty-eight feet. Not the farthest today, but close enough. I nod calmly as if it were entirely expected. Erase the mental image of the boulder from my mind, and feel another flood of profound relief as my sense of its imbued Will vanishes.
It worked. Vek. Itworked.
“Show off.” I’m started from my internal shock by the voice, looking up just in time to see Indol’s grin as he jogs past. I stare, then grin back. Steadying. No sympathy, no malice, no hesitation in Indol’s remark. Just a friendly, admiring jibe from one Third to another. Exactly like we would have a few weeks ago.
It helps.
I draw a breath. Bring everything back into focus. Tullius is on his way back to me. Many others around the track are still watching, as are almost all the spectators in the stands. Clumped senators motion at me as they discuss my result. The reactions all seem impressed, though, not suspicious; the arc of the throw looked natural enough to me, and there’s no other way they could tellwhat just happened. Besides—even if it did look odd to any of them, it would be anabsurdthing to accuse me of. I think I’m safe.
Aequa’s finished her task and looking at me too, now. I catch her eye. She smiles. I smile back.
“Good start, Catenicus.” Tullius’s tone contains worlds more respect as he arrives.
The next half hour is gruelling as I’m put through a series of physical challenges by Tullius under the unforgiving sun, what feels like half the Senate looking on. I smash through varying thicknesses of wood and stone. Leap as high as I can. Run for a quarter hour at full speed around the track, completing nine full laps before being told to stop. All require me to allow extra Will to adjust for my arm, to let me keep my balance, to push back the pain that much of this exercise brings.
None of it is as mechanically difficult as the first test, though. And my results, while never outstripping the best of the day, continue to be among the elite; each time Tullius announces my score, a murmur goes around the track as it’s relayed. Gradually, the weight of eyes and expectations falls away as I adjust to the unwanted attention. Become increasingly confident. For the self-imbuing portion of the assessment, it’s as good a result as I could have hoped for.
“Have a drink, Catenicus,” says Tullius as I come to stand beside him, panting and drenched in sweat after my interminably long sprint. He offers me a cup and motions to a barrel of fresh water, then waits patiently as I drain several long draughts before dousing myself in more of the liquid. Will increases my stamina in rough accordance with my strength, but that only means I can push myself for longer, not that I don’t get tired.
“What’s next?” I ask once my breathing has sufficiently slowed.
“That’s all for self-imbuing. Take a few minutes to recover, then meet me back here.”
I bob my head, and stride for the low wall at the edge of the sand, making sure to walk straight and tall despite my exhaustion. A short rest will be welcome, but I need to show everyone here that I’m still worthy of being called Domitor. Still worthy of being made a Quintus. The less I appear strained by all of this, the better.
I sit on the wall, back to the onlookers. Exhale and close my eyes.
“You’re incredible.”
I look up to find Aequa sliding into place alongside me. A sheen of sweatglistens on her pale skin. Cobalt-blue eyes glance up at me hesitantly, as if checking her presence isn’t going to upset me.
“You look like you’re doing well, too.” It’s not just a polite observation. Every time I’ve seen her undergo an assessment today, she’s excelled at it.
“I didn’t nearly die a couple of months ago, though.”
I give a soft, humourless chuckle. “Well that’s simply not true.”
“You know what I mean.” A tremulous smile. A pause. “I’m sorry about your arm.”
I nod. Not much else either of us can say about that, really.
We watch the activity out on the sand. Many of the assessments appear to be over; there are only a dozen or so people left attempting their tests. Felix and Marcellus are separately displaying their ability to imbue, both navigating the task with ease. Indol and Iro must have already finished, because I can’t see them anywhere.
“This is all to send Military a message.” I make the observation without taking my gaze from the proceedings. As much to help me think it through, as to discuss it with Aequa.
“It has to be,” Aequa agrees quietly. “I know you’ve been cut off, but you must have seen what it’s like in Caten. And my father says things in the Senate have been bad lately, too. Worse since the Iudicium.” Her lips twist at the mention. “I don’t know what’s changed, exactly, but for us and Religion to hold these assessments together … it’s a show of unity.”
“It’s more than that. It’s a warning.” I’m more certain of the fact as I say it out loud; this all must have been shrouded in secrecy to have avoided an official Military protest in the Senate. “Not a subtle one, either. Military’s done something to upset everyone else.”
Not hard to guess what. The Anguis prisoner’s existence may be being kept quiet, but he’s clearly served his purpose well.
