“What about Military secondment?” Governance and Religion almost alwayssend their graduates from the Academy to Military for ten years of service. Will ceded to the Catenan legions, and a lengthy martial education on the staff of a proconsul. Potential years away from Caten in the garrison of one distant province or another. It’s considered the standard for a continued education, and a virtual prerequisite for moving into politics.
“No word. But if it happens, Governance aren’t going to let them station us anywhere else.”
I raise an eyebrow. Just the implication that it may not happen is telling; the process isn’t enshrined in law, but the Catenans place great stock in tradition. Religion and Governance not seconding their best students to Military would be even more provocative than this event.
I’m about to pursue the topic further when there’s movement over in the stands, and I squint up to see a dozen or so people approaching. Iro and Indol are among them, but the rest of the party is made up of senators, and led by the man I picked out earlier as Iro’s father. His eyes are fixed on me.
“Telimus.” He descends stairs to the sand, comes to a stop a few feet away. It’s a pointed refusal to use the name granted me by the Senate—meant as a slight, obviously, given that he has no way of knowing how much I despise it. “I am Magnus Tertius Decimus.”
“A pleasure to meet you, Tertius Decimus,” I lie politely.
“I’ve come to ask you to relinquish your title of Domitor.” Tertius Decimus says it with calm purpose, but also loudly enough that the surrounding stands can hear.
I stare at him, sure I’ve misheard. Or misunderstood. It’s only when I see Indol in the background, looking some combination of furious and ashamed, that I understand this is real.
“No.” I’m pleased with how measured and firm I make the word, concealing the fury that’s bubbling just beneath the surface now. I don’t care what his reasons are for the absurd request. I need that title. Take it away and—among the many other disadvantages—there’s no guarantee I’ll be allowed to continue working under Tertius Ericius. I’d have to go wherever Governance decide I should be sent. Play whatever role they want me to play.
Iro’s father’s expression remains smooth. “Understand, this is not to trivialise your achievements at the Academy.” His tone says the opposite. His voice echoes across the near-silent stands, deep and harsh. “However. No one can argue that the Iudicium was compromised. And even if it had not been—it’sbecome clear today that you are no longer the same young man who won it. You no longer have the same potential. I know it is hard to hear, and I am sorry for your injury, but Caten is built on performance in the here and now, not our past achievements. No matter how impressive they may be.”
“You haven’t seen my test results.”
“I have eyes. You were beaten. I am not suggesting that you should not be given an earned position by Governance,” he adds, so condescendingly that it’s all I can do to keep my hands from balling into fists. “But Domitor is asingularhonour, and the benefits it brings are meant to reflect ability. We should laud your achievement without compromising our pyramids, Telimus.”
I glance at Indol again. He’s red-faced, livid as he glares at the ground, unable to meet my gaze. He doesn’t want this, doesn’t agree with it at all. Why isn’t he speaking up? It’s not like him. “And I suppose you think your son should be taking my place?” I glare at Iro, who, to his credit, looks mildly uncomfortable with the exchange as well.
“Not at all. I think the result of the Iudicium should simply be ignored, and the rankings prior to that taken as final. Don’t you agree, Praeceptor?”
Nequias steps forward, the gauntness of his face somehow emphasised by his tinted glasses. He issues an unpleasant smile in my direction. “That is my opinion, Tertius. The Iudicium was tainted. Indol should be Domitor.”
“Rot that.” It’s Aequa, flushed with indignation as she scrambles to her feet. “Indol! He gods-damned saved us out there. Hesavedyou.” Indol grimaces, but doesn’t look up.
“What is this, Decimus?” I’m relieved of having to find a response myself by Tertius Ericius’s irritated interruption. The Censor limps down the stairs, trailed by Livia as well as three other senators. Their approach draws even more eyes to us. “I hope what I’ve just been told is incorrect.”
One of the senators is Advenius, Aequa’s father, his hefty bulk unmistakeable. He wordlessly shakes his head at Aequa, who subsides furiously.
Tertius Decimus’s lip twitches, but it’s the only fracture in his composure. “It is not, Ericius. This needs to be said. The Senate may not have the courage to do the right thing, but I am hoping young Telimus will. Despite all appearances to the contrary.”
“Catenicus’s courage is not in question.” Callidus’s father bristles. It’s hard to concentrate with the two men in such close proximity; even without my ability to sense Will, I suspect the power emanating from them would be two deafeningdrums banging in dissonant time. “Gods’ graves, he was on his deathbed two months ago. Today has shown only how much he still deserves his status.”
“Hedeservesto be Domitor?” There’s a glint in Tertius Decimus’s eye. “You would be willing for him to prove that, I assume?”
A soft murmur ripples along the benches above, the conversation audible to everyone nearby. My heart drops as I see the hint of a grimace cross Tertius Ericius’s face. He steps in. Lowers his voice so that only those in the immediate vicinity can hear. “Don’t do this, Decimus. This alliance is fragile enough.”
“This has nothing to do with that.”
“No. It is to do with your personal vendetta. We’ve both lost children, Amercus,” he adds softly. “And we both still have children to lose.”
“Which is why this is necessary. The boy can keep himself safe well enough. But you know only too well that it’s those around him we have to worry about.” Iro’s father looks at me as he says the words. His stare as unruffled as it is denunciating. He’s looking for a reaction.
He gets one.
“Surely you’re not suggesting these tests are inadequate, Tertius? Because I have done everything required of me here.” I smile at him grimly. “The Iudicium was about more than simple tasks like these. It was about initiative. Teamwork. Competition. Honestly, I’m surprised I have to explain that to you.” I let cool disdain drip from the last. I learned to better control my anger at the Academy, but Callidus’s death is too recent for the man’s disgusting jab not to cut.
The Tertius smiles at me, and I know I have made a mistake.
“Competition.Competition. Yes, of course! Quite right, Telimus.” Tertius Decimus looks around at the senators behind him. “Quintus Darinus. I believe you were just extolling the virtues of chariot races as contests of Will? And as it happens, thisisa circus.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Amercus. They’re not plebs, and none of them have experience.” Tertius Ericius is firm. “Races are dangerous, even for the professional teams in Caten.”
