CHAPTER SIX LYRA
“I don’t like being back here,” I say, as Rowan and I make our way along the corridors of the former imperial palace.
It's still located at the heart of the most beautiful gardens I've ever seen, filled with creatures taken from around the former empire.
There are great cats in cages and giraffes walking by, beautiful birds and butterflies as large as my head.
“I understand,” Rowan says, reaching out to touch my arm. “Even now, I still have moments when I think I don't belong in this place.”
It's more than that for me. The palace was where the emperor summoned me whenever he was displeased with me. It was the place where he terrified me, using his power over time to freeze me so that he could have done anything he wanted. It’s the place where Alaric and I almost died at the emperor’s hands.
And where I killed him. Those memories aren’t pleasant ones either.
So much of it looks the same. There aren't quite the vast riches that there were before.
I guess those have gone in the rebuilding efforts, unless they were looted in the wake of the revolt.
But there are still statues of some of the former emperors and of figures from legend lining the halls.
The palace might not be staffed by slaves taken by the empire, but there are still servants running here and there, trying to keep up with whatever requests have been made of them.
“It will be all right,” Rowan assures me. “We could have picked somewhere else for the senate after the fall of the emperor but this… it was empty, and to the people it's a symbol of authority. It made sense if we were going to claim authority that we should put our senate chambers here.”
On one level, I understand that. Viscerally though, I hate having to be here.
It feels too much like it did in the days of the emperor.
My body is reacting as if I'm about to be dragged through to his throne room and thrown down on the floor before him.
By the time we reach a large pair of double doors, my heart is beating far too fast in my chest.
“I wish there were time to get you settled before I brought you before the senate but I think it's important that you meet them and see what's going on,” Rowan says.
He pushes open the doors, revealing a large chamber that has been reworked to be a circle of stone benches rising up around a central mosaic depicting a burst of magic.
There are viewing galleries further up, presumably for the ordinary people of the city.
There are people waiting within. Those on the stone benches all wear the white togas of the senate. There are men and women there of all ages and backgrounds, and I guess the point of the togas is to prevent the differences from being too obvious by forcing them to all wear the same thing.
They're in the middle of what sounds like a heated discussion.
“And I'm telling you that our former colonies won't do business with us until we can prove that we are the true successors to the empire,” one man says.
“What more do they want?” a woman shoots back. “We've held the city for a year. We have its treasury and its army.”
“With respect, we don't have all of either of those things,” a third senator says. “The treasury is depleted, and many of the army went into exile with Selene Ravenscroft.”
They stop talking as Rowan enters, and I make a point of staying next to him.
“I see you all got started without me,” Rowan says, looking around at them with a degree of disapproval. There seems to be a touch of paranoia in his gaze as well, as if he thinks they've been plotting behind his back.
“Well, Rowan, if you didn't spend all your time out criticizing the building projects, you could be here for the meetings,” an older man says.
Rowan waves that away. “Forget it. For now, I wanted to introduce someone to you all. Many of you may recognize her from the games. This is Lyra Thornwind.”
It seems my name is enough to make them all fall silent, staring at me, looking me up and down as if trying to work out where I fit into whatever schemes they have going on.
I'm used to being stared at by a crowd watching me from raised benches, but usually it means I’m going to fight for their entertainment.
Here the most dangerous weapons are words, and I'm not as well trained in those as I am with a spear or net.
“Why have you brought her back here, Rowan?” a woman asks. She's dressed in the same plain toga as the others, but she's wearing expensive jewelry to proclaim her status as a noble.
“Maybe he needed someone to protect him from your constant attempts to seduce him, Olivia,” another senator shoots back, getting a laugh from at least a small corner of the room, while those around the noble woman glare at him.
Even in that I can see that there are factions within the senate, small blocks of those who vote one way or another.
“I've asked Lyra to return because I think she might be able to help us with some of our problems,” Rowan says. “And I wanted her to meet you all.”
“And it's impressive to see the beast whisperer who brought down the emperor,” the woman, Olivia, says. “But there are many matters for the Senate. She should be in the public gallery if she's here at all. Unless she's going to stand by you like a servant?"
I hear Rowan sigh, and he takes a seat, gesturing for me to stand nearby. There are servants standing around the walls, and a couple of guards, but it seems the senators are the only ones who sit in this hall.
So I stand not far from Rowan, trying not to let any of the weariness I feel after such a long journey show on my face as the senate proceedings continue.
“We need to discuss the matter of public order,” an older senator says. “We’re being too lenient with the criminals of the slums.”
“And what would you have us do?” a woman almost the same age says. “Start impaling them the way you did when you were in the emperor’s armies, Octavio?”
“It's better than letting them run riot,” the man says. “I'm sure your solution, Yarrow, would just be to offer them all the time in your pleasure houses to wear them out to the point where they can't do anything.”
The two look at each other with obvious dislike.
“We've been through this,” Rowan says, raising his hands. “We can't just impose order through cruelty. We aren't the emperor.”
“But we do owe it to the people to provide them with a safe city in which to live,” a man says. He’s heavily built and wears the amulet of a merchant.
“You're more interested in making sure your warehouse stocks are safe, Vars,” Yarrow snaps back.
"The city would be safe if we reopened the arena," one tough-looking man with short, dark hair says.
“That’s your answer to everything, Domitian,” Yarrow says. “Not enough bread, reopen the arena. Trouble in the slums, reopen the arena. Your answer to every problem seems to be to make the people of this city fight to the death again.”
“And that's not something I’ll allow,” Rowan says.
“With respect, First Senator,” Domitian points out. “This is no longer an empire. One man does not make decisions for all of us.”
“And it needn’t be about fights to the death,” a man says. He's in his twenties, tall and broad-shouldered, with golden hair cropped short and bright blue eyes. “We can put on safe exhibition matches. No one needs to be harmed.”
I see Rowan grit his teeth as the arguments go back and forth, and by this point, I'm not really listening to them. I'm too tired after traveling for so long. I can’t suppress a yawn.
“It seems we’re boring the former champion,” Olivia says.
“Or at least tiring her with how long it takes us to make any decisions,” the same man who suggested the exhibition matches suggests. “Perhaps we should call a halt to the meeting for now?”
“That seems like a good idea, Marcus,” Rowan says. “Is everyone else in favor of it?”
There's a brief course of assent around the room. It seems even in such a small thing, the new Senate of the Republic can't just be commanded by its leader.
The senators start to flow out from the Senate chamber, through a couple of side doors.
Rowan leads me from the chamber into another bigger space, where tables have been set out with wine and plates of bread and olives.
Some of the members of the senate are in there already, while others come in as I watch.
They sit on couches and discuss things in low voices while servants bring them wine.
It reminds me uncomfortably of the receiving rooms at the colosseums, where the gladiators were forced to attend the nobles watching the games after their bouts.
It was a place where the nobles sought to be seen with the best fighters, basking in reflected glory.
Often, nobles would take gladiators into side rooms, seeking time alone with them or more.
It was a place to make alliances, but also a place where I was in danger more than once.
“What's the plan here?” I ask Rowan.
“Just talk to people,” he says. “Get to know who they are.
I'm sorry to drag you into the middle of all of this, but I need you to see for yourself just how difficult and complicated the politics can be here. The Senate is dragged in all kinds of different directions, and this place is the best way for you to understand what those directions are. Plus, I get the feeling everybody will want to be seen with the former champion of the arena.”
I nod, although I don’t feel comfortable about it. Rowan slips away from me. It feels as though he's abandoning me, especially when he quickly gets drawn into a discussion with a small group of senators. I can feel the eyes of the others on me, assessing me.
“They're all trying to work out if they should be the first to try to talk to you,” a voice says. I turn and see the man Rowan called Marcus approaching me. He smiles, dipping his head slightly. “It's an honor to meet you, Lyra Thornwind. I’m Marcus Larius, of the Larius merchant house.”
“And you're the first one brave enough to do it,” I reply.
“I don't think it takes much bravery to approach someone who is themselves so clearly worried about what's going on,” Marcus says. “I understand that Rowan needs you to get a feel for who’s who around here, but leaving you on your own feels a little like throwing you into the ocean to see if you can swim.”
“And you're here to help me keep my head above water?” I reply.
“Only if you want me to,” he says. “Tell me, do you know the different factions here, Lyra?”
I shake my head. “Back when I left, there were different groups. There were rebellious nobles, and beast whisperers, guards, and loyalists."
“Everything's changed since then,” Marcus says.
“A year is a long time. The Senate gives people a voice, but to make that voice heard, each faction must work with others. There are groups devoted to the interests of the remaining nobles, certainly, and the soldiers and former soldiers. There are people representing the common folk, and half the time those are just the gang leaders who can marshal enough votes through bribery or intimidation.”
“You sound as though you don't like it,” I say.
Marcus stands there for a moment. “It’s… better than the alternatives. Better than the empire was. Better than chaos. We're all just trying to do the best we can for the people who put us here.”
“And who put you here?” I ask.
“The merchants,” Marcus says, “or a group among them at least. My family has several trading ships.”
“So tell me,” I say. “Why suggest exhibition matches in the arena?”
Marcus shrugs. “It seems like a good compromise. Rowan can clearly see the importance of the arena to Aetheria, as much as he rails against it. I can understand, given his experiences and yours, that you don't want people fighting to the death in it. But that doesn't mean there can't be fights.”
“Why do there have to be?” I counter.
Marcus cocks his head to one side. “Because as much as we might like to pretend otherwise, we can't erase human nature. We need to give the people outlets for violence and their other needs, or those things boil over. It’s one thing the empire understood. In our attempts to be more civilized, we’ve simply created problems for ourselves. ”
“And the other senators agree?” I ask.
Marcus laughs. “The one thing they're good at is not agreeing. Tell me, can you see them all watching you, Lyra?”
I look around. People are talking to one another but I can indeed see eyes glancing my way. I nod.
“Most of them are probably wondering why you’re here.
They’re all afraid Rowan has brought you to interfere with their politicking.
They’re wondering if they can get you to be a part of their faction.
Or they’ve assumed it's going to happen and they're just working out the best way to make sure of it. It’s difficult for someone like Domitian, because his instinct is to threaten, and he knows that won't work. Yarrow’s probably wondering what vices you have. Olivia might well try to seduce you at some point. Others will offer you position or power or money.”
“And what are you going to offer me, Marcus?” I ask him.
Marcus smiles. “I'm smart enough to know that making any offer towards you would be the quickest way to harden you against me.
I'd rather just get to know you, Lyra. I suspect you're going to do whatever you think is the right thing. I look forward to trying to persuade you that it’s what I propose.”
He steps away from me, moving back to the others. I can’t help watching him go. I get the feeling I’ll be seeing a lot more of him in my time here.