CHAPTER SEVEN
“Why do I get the feeling your thoughts aren't entirely with me?” Marcus asks me as we tour the city the next day. We're both wearing normal clothes rather than the togas of senators. He's dressed in a grey tunic embroidered with silver, while I’m wearing an elegant dress that a noble might choose.
“Well, there's always a lot to think about. Especially with this delegation coming to Aetheria,” I say.
We walk on the broad streets of the richer parts of the city, touring the noble quarter, where it seems every house has made an effort to adjust the magic outside to show sylvan scenes in honor of the visitors.
“You're thinking about what Lady Cassandra said,” Marcus guesses. “This business of Selene Ravenscroft.”
I nod. “Among other things.”
“You realize that she can't come back?” Marcus says. “She isn't a threat, even if she’s doing everything they say.”
“Why would they lie?” I ask.
He shrugs. “To force us into some kind of reaction?
To lay the blame at our door so they can either force better terms from us when they make a treaty with us or to find an excuse for conflict later on?
I've negotiated with merchants and nobles from Arboria before. They have no love for Aetheria, and they like to use confrontation as a negotiating tactic.”
Marcus makes it sound so simple as if the world is just this transactional place where it's obvious that an ambassador would lie to gain some small undefined advantage later on. And where, because it isn't in Selene’s interests to return, she never will.
“What if she raises an army?” I say.
“With what money?” Marcus counters. “Even if people were joining her out of loyalty to the old empire, wouldn't we hear about a buildup of troops? An army wouldn't arrive on our doorstep without warning.”
“Unless we dismiss the warning that she's gathering those with magical talents,” I point out.
Marcus laughs. “You have me there, Lyra. But seriously, I don't think there's anything to worry about for now. Why borrow trouble when there are enough things for us to do in Aetheria as it is?”
“Maybe we could tour the slums,” I suggest. “I'm sure between us we could work out ways to help there.”
“We could,” Marcus says. “But I think you need to see places where we're actually succeeding in doing good, Lyra. I think you're becoming disillusioned because you've forgotten just how much we've achieved so far.”
“Have we achieved much?” I counter. “Beyond the return of fights to the Colosseum?"
Marcus sighs, taking my hand in his. “I know you don't think that counts for much, but it's a big thing, and it's led to so much else. Come on, let me show you some of the places in the city where things are starting to thrive.”
Unless I'm willing to pull my hand from his, I must go along with him, and honestly, there's something wonderful about being able to stroll arm-in-arm with Marcus on a warm day. If there weren't so many things going on in the city, it might be a simple, perfect moment.
As it is, Marcus leads me through the noble quarter and down to the merchant quarter, where I can see the streets are busy with carts and the stores are bustling with customers.
“Every merchant I've spoken to says their business is doing better now,” Marcus says.
“Are they all connected to the Colosseum in some way?” I ask.
“Many of them are,” Marcus replies. “It takes a lot of supplies and people to put on the spectacles there. But you know that.”
I do, having helped to organize the games.
A thousand things have to go right for them to go well.
It isn't just a question of finding some fighters and putting them on the sands to attack one another.
It's about seeing that thousands of spectators can enjoy the whole day with food and drink, entertainment, and betting.
There are whole streets around the Colosseum where businesses exist because of the crowds that pass along them on the days of the fights.
“It's not just about that, though,” Marcus says. “It's like the city has gained some of its confidence back. People are willing to spend money they were hiding in case of disaster. An atmosphere of joy and confidence is good for the city.”
“You've made the economic arguments of the games to me before,” I point out.
“Well, I am a merchant,” he says. “It’s only natural I’d focus on those first. But you're not convinced. So let's see some more of the city.”
He leads me from the merchant area to an entertainment district, which throngs with people, busier than it ever was before the return of the games.
I can see buildings being repaired, a bath house put back into use, people selling their wares from small stalls.
A couple of jugglers toss flaming torches back and forth over the heads of the crowd.
People seem happy here and it isn't as though they're all nobles.
“You see,” Marcus says. “Some of the benefits are starting to filter through to the rest of Aetheria.”
It's hard to deny that, even if we're still a long way from the slums beyond the city walls.
“But I didn't bring you to the entertainment district just to talk about how well things are going for the city,” Marcus says. He gestures to an eating establishment on one of the corners. “The owner here owes me a favor. Come on.”
He leads me to it. It's a joyous, raucous place, where the sound of laughter flows out onto the street, accompanied by music from within. There are plenty of people eating both inside and out, many seated at tables spread halfway across the street.
A portly man in his forties comes out to meet us, clasping Marcus's hand.
“Marcus, it's so good to see you, my friend. Thank you so much for speaking with the guards on my behalf.”
“You should think nothing of it, Carrus,” Marcus says.
“But I do think of it,” the other man says. “You must come, sit eat. You and your… wait, aren't you Lyra Thornwind? I saw you fight in the arena. If you're here as well as Marcus, you really must stay and eat. On the house, of course.”
“We couldn't do that,” I say, not wanting to take this man's hospitality without paying for it.
“I insist,” Carrus says. He shows us to a table. “Sit, both of you. I will bring wine and oysters.”
He hurries away before I can say anything else. I look over to Marcus.
“You must pay him for this,” I say. “We’re senators. We can't just accept favors.”
“Carrus would be insulted if we don't,” Marcus replies. “I would lose whatever respect I have with him. And it's just a little lunch, Lyra. It's hardly some grand scheme of corruption.”
I sigh, knowing I'm not going to get my way on this. I sit opposite him, and Marcus takes my hand.
“There are ways things work in Aetheria,” he says in a gentle tone. “They might not be perfect, but sometimes we have to be realistic. We work with the way things are, and that lets us do the most good.”
“Like helping this man out with… what, exactly?”
“A noble bribed some guards to harass Carrus,” Marcus explains. “They were trying to drive him away from his business so one of their family could take it over. I was able to intervene.”
“I didn't hear anything about any nobles being brought before the courts,” I say.
Marcus shrugs. “This was something that called for a subtle touch.”
He seems to have that. Marcus has friends everywhere we go and political connections that run throughout the city.
He's much more comfortable working within these strings of favors and bribes than I am.
I can't deny in this case he's done it to try to help someone, but sometimes I wonder if he isn't perpetuating a system that is ultimately worse for the city even in his attempts to do good.
Marcus raises my hand to his lips, kissing my fingers. “You're thinking far too hard about all this, Lyra. How about if for now we both forget about being senators, both forget about everything going on in the city, and we just enjoy each other's company?”
“I can try,” I say. Because I like spending time with Marcus. I like so many things about him. It's so easy to fall into romantic moments with him. I lean across the table to kiss him lightly, not caring if anyone sees us.
As I pull back, I see a crier striding through the entertainment district. I would expect him to announce some grand piece of theater, except that he's wearing the colors of the city.
“Citizens of Aethria!” he bellows. “I stand before you to announce a new chapter in the games of the colosseum.”
Those words catch me by surprise, because I haven't heard about any such new chapter.
“Before, the games had the Champions’ Trials.
Now they shall have the Champions’ Challenge, a contest of skill and bravery, in which gladiators will not just be tested in contests against one another but will have to take on more elaborate challenges, in which the arena will be reshaped for every contest.”
The words hit me hard. I took part in the Champions’ Trials, in which rather than just normal fights, we were forced to take on one another even as we tried to deal with obstacles and mazes, creatures and traps.
It was something a step beyond even the violence of the normal games, and now it seems that a version of it is coming to the city.
“What's going on?” I demand of Marcus.
“I was going to save it to be a surprise,” he said.
“I know you fought in the Champions’ Trials.
I thought that this might be a way to inject more excitement into the Colosseum without the need for more blood.
We can have gladiators fighting across obstacles, fighting with tame beasts hemming them in.
There would be multiple rounds, and the fights would produce a champion of the arena. ”
“And you didn't tell me about any of this?” I say. “There hasn't been a vote on this that I know of.”
“The other members of the senate agree with it,” Marcus says. “Enough of them, at least. And as a former champion, it's not something you could exactly be impartial about.”
He says that as though it's a reason for keeping me out of the decision-making process rather than making sure I have a voice.
“So this is going ahead without me even getting any say on it?” I say.
Marcus’ hand covers mine. “I thought you'd be pleased. If we give the people more excitement in the games, they won't call for so much violence. This could be good for everyone, Lyra.”
It doesn't feel like it, and I'm not sure I believe Marcus' explanation. It feels as though I was sidelined precisely because everyone knew I wouldn't agree with it. More and more, I feel control over the games slipping away from me.
I'm worried about them now almost as much as Alaric. We might choose very different methods, but at least he's against the slow escalation of violence within the arena. At least he sees the dangers of it rather than constantly trying to show me the benefits. He would have given me a choice.
Marcus hasn't, and now it seems I must attend some new and even more elaborate form of the games. I must stand there and smile during the Champions’ Challenge, and hope against hope that no one is killed.