Mira (21 page)

Chapter10

           
Pacing his room, Rillan simply couldn’t put himself at ease.
 
Each time he lay down and closed his eyes with the intent of sleep, he heard the soft notes of Mira’s silver whistle echoing down the hall.
 
When he rose to see where the sound was coming from, there was nothing.
 
It didn’t surprise him that it was a dream.
 
He had been adamantly clear about the druids sending a new girl and keeping Mira with them.
 
Considering that they spent the last few centuries doing exactly as he told them.
 
It would make no sense for them to go against his wishes now.

           
A sudden wave of frustration coursed through him.
 
He grabbed the corner of the nearest piece of furniture and threw it across the room.
  
The heavy wooden desk crashed into the wall as if it were a toy.
 
Parchment, pens, a few books, and various other random items, scattered haphazardly across the floor.
 
Charging out of the room, he went to the large main chamber at the end of the hall.

           
Rillan stripped to his breeches, tearing fabric in his rage.
 
Grabbing his falcata from the rack where he left it, he began pummeling his practice dummy into submission.
 
At great length he found himself tired, but no less frustrated.

           
With only slightly more control, Rillan began gathering his clothes together.
 
I’ll take a bath.
 
Maybe I’m tired enough to fall asleep finally.
 
Or at least I should start considering the possibility that my existence may be in danger.
 
If Mira’s would-be rescuer was right, then I’m about to become obsolete, or at least a bargaining chip.
 
The way the druids work, it’s hard to guess which direction the wind may blow them.

           
As Rillan gathered his tattered clothing and tried to force his brain to consider something other than Mira, a soft clatter followed by a rolling sound broke his train of thought.
 
His sharp eyes caught movement, and he realized that the last time he wore his now shredded tunic was when he assassinated Tiberius.
 
He turned and watched the tiny black bead roll across the floor and deftly sneak through the metal work on the fire screen.
 
The small black pearl he found rolled to a stop in the ash beneath the grate in the fireplace.
 

           
Rillan’s thoughts turned toward Mira again.
 
Kneeling in front of the nearly burned out fire and moving the heavy metal screen, he plucked the pearl up from the hearth.
 
A rush of inspiration took hold of him.
 
Dropping his clothes, Rillan hurried back to his room.
 
He ignored the splintered wood that had been his desk and shuffled through the mess on the floor, to get to a chest at the foot of his bed.
 

           
It had been so long since he opened it that the latch was rusted shut.
 
Even so, it didn’t take much effort for him to force it open.
 
Inside the chest, he sifted through treasures of a previous life:
 
the tunic he wore when he was married, a dagger given to him by his father, a small wooden carving of a dog from his childhood, a pressed dry flower that his daughter had given him before she died, the manuscript that contained all the information the druids had used in creating him, even the information left out of the papers in the library…
 
He had nearly forgotten what all he kept in the chest.
 
Finally he found it.
 
A small pewter rose pendant.
 
His mother had worn it on special occasions.
 

           
Taking the pendant from the chest, he turned it over and over in his hands.
 
Though heavily tarnished and needing a new chain, it would d
o.
ue
.
 
Smiling to himself he took it down the hall to the room he used when he needed to repair his armor.
 
It wasn’t a forge by any means, but it worked for small jobs.
 
He had a few tools and an anvil.
 
This would require more finesse though.
 
He wanted to remove the small white pearl from the center and replace it with the black one he found.

           
Strange how even dark things can be beautiful,
Rillan thought, as he contemplated how to go about his task.
 
Strangely perfect.
 
I can keep my mother’s pearl.
 
And I think she would approve.
 
 

* * * *

           
“Mira?”
 
Liam watched her squinting at the sky, seemingly bothered that the sun was out.
 
He tried for days to get her to leave her small room in the house the sacrifices were kept in.
 

           
Looking a little dazed, Mira turned to him.
 
“Did you say something Liam?”

           
The expression on his face was more than a little hurt.
 
“Yes,” he said softly.
 
“Did you really not hear me?”

           
Suddenly it sunk in.
 
Mira stared at him for a long time before she spoke.
 
“No, I heard you.
 
Are you serious?”

           
His hurt expression worsened.
 
“Mira, I guess maybe I thought--
  
I don’t know what I thought.
 
Never mind.”
 
Liam turned away from her and began walking.
 
He didn’t care where he was going as long as it was away from her.

           
Overwhelmed with guilt over Rillan, now this was too much.
 
Handfasted to Liam?
 
What else is there for me now?
 
I thought I knew my purpose.
 
I’ve been wrong about so many things.
 
“Liam,” Mira called after him and ran to catch up.
 

           
He didn’t know if he should stop or not.
 
The last thing he wanted to do was discuss being ignored during his proposal.

           
“Liam, okay,” Mira announced to his back.
 
“I’m sorry I was distracted.
 
I never expected to ever be handfasted to anyone.
 
I--
 
accept.”

           
Turning back around a small, uncertain smile touched his lips.
 
“I’ll bring you back to us, Mira.
 
I promise.
 
You spent too much time in the dark.
 
It got into your head.
 
He
got into your head.
 
You’ll see.
 
It’ll be alright.”
 
Liam wrapped her in his arms and held Mira’s tiny frame carefully.
 
“First we’re going to get you something more to eat,” he said gently.

           
Mira stared at the people passing by, while Liam hugged her.
 
She couldn’t help feeling that this wasn’t right.
 
You just don’t know what right is anymore,
she told herself.
 
Liam is a good man.
 
He loves you.
 
This will work.

* * * *

           
The senate chamber at Noviodunum rumbled with indecisiveness and conspiracy.
 
No one knew who would replace Tiberius Caelius Novanus.
 
There were several men in the running
,
.
 
N
n
one of whom were from the Novanus family.

           
“It’s about time,” a voice whispered.

           
“How long have they controlled the senate?”

           
“Far too long.”

           
“Perhaps the troops will be called home.”

           
“I haven’t seen my brother in over a decade.”

           
“Who cares how it happened.
 
Next time, pay the druids to get rid of the tyrant sooner.”

           
The hushed exchanges ended to the clacking of a ring on the arm of a large intricately carved wooden chair at the head of the room.
 
No one dared call it a throne out loud when Tiberius had the gall to place it at the head of the room.
 
There was still some concern as to whether it would stay or go.
 
That would depend on who took Tiberius’ place.
 
The short stout man in a long embroidered toga, who had been clacking the ring on the chair arm, stood and called for order.
 
“Enough, enough,” his voice carried over the room.
 
The entire chamber had been designed
to be
acoustically perfect in carved marble, and the man at the head of the room sounded as though he was next to each member of the senate as he spoke.

           
Once he was satisfied that all eyes were on his portly frame Senator Torum continued. “Arrangements for the funeral pyre are to be handled at the discretion of the Novanus family.
 
Further information, to be announced as needed.
 
Over the next few days we will hear from the various men who believe they would be fit to fill the deceased’s place in our forum.
 
Elections to be held at the completion of the debates.”
 

           
Senator Torum continued to drone on at length covering all the daily business.
 
He started with a movement to lower the taxes on an area of the Empire that had recently been devastated by a storm.
 
He followed that with rescue efforts to move food into the region.
 
All the while
,
a weasel
l
y looking man in a tunic which didn’t fall quite right on his frame, stood by impatiently.
 
Each time Senator Torum brought an end to a mundane affair of state, the weasel
l
y guy stood hopefully taller in his place, only to slump back again when the new topic wasn’t what he was waiting for.

           
“Last order of business,” Torum announced with finality, and in a tone which told all in attendance he was not happy with the upcoming information.
 
“We have with us a delegate from the druid settlements.
 
I believe he has the backing of the Novanus representative?”
 
Torum looked to a teary eyed woman who nodded emphatically.
 
Several young men who had the distinct Novanus jaw line glared at Torum.
 
Smiling at the young men authoritatively, the senator returned his attention to the assemblage.

           
Senator Torum turned toward the eager man, “Your name sir?”

           
“Darius ap Jos.
 
If it please the senate,” he said with a bowed head.
 
There was a soft rumble through the room.
 
Men shifted positions to get a look at the new speaker.
 
“I have come to the senate with disturbing news at the bequest of the Novanus family.
 
I was sent to Noviodunum as a representative of my people with good intent.
 
Over time I have come to see Noviodunum as more of a home to me than my own lands.
 
Here the Novanus family took me in and conducted business in good faith with my people for several years.
 
It disturbed me to find that the assassination called down on the mighty head of their family be at the hands of the very people who sent me here to befriend him.”
 

           
With the announcement
,
an amused murmur circulated amongst the crowd.
 
“What’s the fool up to?”

           
“Does he believe he brings us news?”

           
“What does he want?”

           
Darius cleared his throat to call attention again.
 
He expected his words to have more impact than it appeared.
 
Tiberius’ sons growled impatiently.
 
At least I have the family behind me.
 
“I would ask that the Senate send me back to my people with the aid of the army.
 
At that time
,
I would bring to an end the Circle’s ungodly practices and bring the druidic peoples under Empire protection.”

           
A soft chuckled circulated, as the Senate realized what exactly Darius was up to.
 
A balding man in a richly embroidered toga stepped forward.
 
He was one of the men vying for Tiberius’ recently vacant position.
 
His mere presence brought a hush to the bemused crowd.
 
“Darius, is it?
 
Did you not hear the list of concerns that were put forth by Senator Torum before you?
 
The settlements you speak of have been a bane in our existence for over a century.
 
The people there do not want Empire rule, and we are stretched to the limit of our resources to control what we have.
 
Not to mention our concern with containing the war that is coming from other borders.
 
Why would we want to expend troops on attacking a border too far to be profitable and currently causing no trouble?”
 
As approval from the crowd rumbled agreement with the statement, the man continued with a pleased smile.
 
“There is no logic to starting a war on an additional front.”