Ironhold, Trial Three

Prologue

“Can someone explain to me why the unrest has not been brought under control?” Tiberius bellowed to his advisors, his anger rippling out around the room.

Emperor Tiberius VI of the Aetherian Empire was not happy. He so rarely was these days in his councils of advisors. He stood at the head of the table, because he preferred to stand rather than sit in the carved ivory throne that had belonged to his ancestors. He passed in front of the table, which showed a model of the city, maps of the wider empire set out around it almost as an afterthought.

Aetheria was the center of the world; everything else was secondary. A dozen or more of his advisors were seated around it. Most of them looked nervous. They were right to.

“We quell each piece as it arises, but the issue is that so many people are discontented. Some of them hate you, Tiberius.”

If anyone other than the arch magistrate, Selene Ravencroft, had said that, Tiberius might have lashed out without thinking. But he knew to be careful with her. She was an unassuming-looking woman in her thirties with strange white hair, but her eyes were filled with power.

Like Tiberius' own. He was older than Selene by a few years, into his forties now, his dark hair receding slightly, his frame lean and tall. He wore the purple toga of the emperors, where the others had to make do with whatever finery they could manage. Somehow, all their gold and embroidery wasn't nearly as impressive as the purple. It didn't embody the same power over the world.

Not that Tiberius lacked gold. A golden circle of laurel leaves sat atop his brow, proclaiming his status as the ruler of the empire. On days like this, it felt more like a chore than an honor.

“ Why are they discontented?” Tiberius demanded. “They have broken windows, burned houses, shouted for my death! Why?”

He gestured to the map. “They live in the greatest city in the world. They have wonders in their lives thanks to magic that others can only dream of. Most of them have minor magics of their own. They live at the heart of the empire. And yet they complain?”

"They do more than complain," Lord Darius said. He was a former gladiator, now Tiberius' right-hand man when it came to the Colosseum at the heart of the city. He and Selene organized the games between them. He also handled whatever Tiberius needed in Ironhold, the great fortress that trained the gladiators. "Some of them have been attacking guards."

“Then have those ones impaled, or thrown to the beasts in the arena,” Tiberius said. Did he have to think of everything? His anger was only rising.

"And yet the more you kill, the more there are," Lady Elara said. She was Tiberius' age, with dark hair and features that had retained their beauty despite the years. She wore a gown of white, trimmed with gold.

“You would suggest something else?” Tiberius demanded.

"The more you try to crush a man, the more he rises up," Elara said. "And violence doesn't take away problems like hunger. The grain ships have been late. Aetheria has magic and steel, but food matters more than either."

“You’re just presenting me with more problems!” Tiberius snapped. “Release grain from our stores. That will help pacify them.”

“The emperor is wise,” Lady Elara said. “There has also been some discontent over the issue of beast whisperers.”

“Why?” Flavius, the master of the guards, asked. “Because you have been spreading rumors about them?”

“My lord Flavius, I am not one to spread unfounded rumors,” Lady Elara insisted.

"No," Lord Darius said. "You prefer your parties and your illusions. Endless things that don't add to the city. And it's not hard to see why you're so interested in beast whisperers, given that you're consorting with one. She's meant to be a gladiator, Elara, not your plaything."

Tiberius knew who they were talking about. How could he not when he'd seen her fighting in the colosseum?

“I still don't see why you don't just have the gladiator Lyra killed,” Flavius said.

"Because that is not how the Colosseum works ,” Tiberius said. “It will be viewed as an offence to the gods, and even I will not risk their wrath.”

The truth was more complicated than that. Everyone had heard about Tiberius' prophecy that a beast whisperer would lead to his fall. Yet that was not exactly what he'd seen. It wasn't quite how his power worked.

Magic was so common in Aetheria that it was easy to believe it was understood, yet that was far from the case. Magic flowed outwards from the stone deep beneath the city. It was fed by violence and power. It meant that many of the citizens were born with minor magical talents, and a few had considerable power.

Tiberius was one of the strongest, born to a line noted for their unique gifts. His talent was the controlling time: chronomancy. He got flashes of the future, glimpses of the weave of possibilities. He had seen that there were threats to the empire, but also opportunities for it to build its strength still further. He knew that a beast whisperer would be the catalyst for all of it.

For a long time, he had focused on the danger to himself. He had made sure that beast whisperers were persecuted, that they would never be in positions to be a threat to him. But now there was the gladiator, Lyra, brought to the city from some small town on the coast.

She should have died. The policy when it came to beast whisperers in the arena was clear. They were thrown in against the most difficult challenges, and they were killed quickly for the entertainment of the crowd. Yet Lyra had survived two seasons of games on the holy days. She had shown her strength.

Did that make her dangerous or interesting? Did it mean she was something to be destroyed or something that might be beneficial to the empire? In this, even Tiberius couldn't see for sure.

He had to rely on his instincts, where some of his ancestors might have been able to see perfectly. They had built their empire by picking through the possibilities, judging what would be best for their family, and for the city. Not that there had been any real difference in those days. Tiberius couldn't see the end of every thread. He had to judge the meaning for himself, and he wasn't quite sure how to judge Lyra Thornwind.

“It is a pity it is not close to the holy days,” Lord Darius said. “The mood of the city always picks up when there are games.”

Of course it did. That was a part of why Tiberius’ ancestors had founded the games. They wanted to give the people a release that was not violence on the streets. And in the colosseum, they managed to achieve other aims as well. They could sort the wheat from the chaff of those with magical abilities. They created a space for nobles to play out their petty politics. Indeed they had become primarily a place of money and political power, of decadence and shifting alliances.

But that could be good, too. The betting filled Tiberius' coffers, since he took a portion of each transaction. And the blood of the fallen could feed the stones, their magic pouring back into them.

It was a combination that served the city well, and maybe it could here, too.

“There are other games than just the regular ones on holy days,” Tiberius pointed out.

Lord Darius looked confused for a moment, then understanding seemed to dawn on him.

“You're talking about the Champions Trials?”

Tiberius nodded. “They used to have them in the old days, didn't they? A select group of champions. Specially constructed situations within the arena. A test beyond the normal.”

“Such a thing has not been done in a long time,” Selene Ravenscroft pointed out. No doubt she knew exactly how long. She kept records of most things. She thought that knowledge was power, when Tiberius knew that power came from magic and steel.

"But maybe the time has come to revive it," Tiberius said. "An additional set of games to catch the mood of the people and distract them until the grain ships can arrive."

It would do more than that, though. It would allow Tiberius to truly test the strongest among the gladiators. To see which of them was worthy, which of them might be a useful ally, and perhaps whether any of them would be a problem in future. It would allow him to see whether the shapes of the future that his powers had shown him were correct.

Yes, the more he thought about this, the better he decided the idea was.

“See to it, Darius,” Tiberius said. “Start to arrange the Champions Trials. The people will love it, and I will get to see more of these gladiators. Oh, and Darius?”

“Yes my emperor?” Darius said.

“Make sure that this beast whisperer, Lyra, is one of those chosen for it.”

“You want her given that kind of attention?” Lady Elara asked.

“I want her tested to the very limit,” Tiberius said. “Perhaps she will die. Perhaps the challenges will crush her.”

“And if they do not?” Lord Darius asked.

“Then that would make her very interesting to me indeed.”