Chapter XXX #2
He shrugs. A careless kind of pain in the motion. “A father is a man who loves you, no matter what. Not all of us can have one.”
I think of my own father. I cannot describe how much I miss him.
“Only the lucky few,” I agree softly.
Indol’s eyes flick over my shoulder, and I twist to see a cloud of purple-slashed white togas approaching.
He hesitates, then steps forward and embraces me enthusiastically.
“I mean it. I’ll contact you,” he murmurs, and I feel the weight of a stylus drop into my pocket.
He steps back. “Stronger together, Vis.”
“Stronger together.”
He leaves me and Aequa to the hovering swarm of sycophantic senators.
IT’S ALMOST A HALF HOUR LATER THAT I SPOT TERTIUS Ericius coming toward us, trailed by men that I’ve seen him talking with—arguing with, I think—for much of that time.
Sextus Amicus, the man currently gushing over our exploits in the race, all but trails off as he sees them before politely excusing himself.
The other senators nearby vanish like mist before their approach.
“Tertius Ericius.” Suddenly uneasy as I take in the group’s demeanour. There’s a tension to it, an odd defensiveness.
An air that they’re about to deliver bad news.
Aequa exchanges a glance with me, shuffles a half step closer in solidarity. She’s seen it too. There are six men other than Callidus’s father, each with the purple stripe of office across their togas. Advenius, Aequa’s father, is among them.
They come to a stop a few feet away. Tertius Ericius limps into position at their head. He meets my gaze, then to my surprise, turns to Aequa.
“Aequa, isn’t it?” Polite, but stiff. “You may not remember, but we met a couple of years ago. You came to Villa Ericius with your parents for an evening.”
“I remember, Magnus Tertius. It’s nice to see you again.”
“And you. We were all very impressed with your performance today. You had some of the best Placement results out there. Easy to see why Catenicus chose you to be his teammate for the race. We expect to see great things from you over the coming years.” Aequa flushes at the compliment, but the Tertius doesn’t give her time to respond.
“And we believe you will be best placed to do that as a Quintus.”
Aequa’s smile fades, and there’s an awkward lull as both she and I process the statement. Slow horror dawns on me as I understand.
“Me?” Aequa’s acting confused, though I can see her coming to the same realisation.
Her gaze flicks to her father. A mixture of stunned and furiously embarrassed.
“I’m … honoured, Tertius Ericius. Truly.
But surely the Domitor of the Academy would be a better choice.
” She motions to me, as if she thinks the group has somehow forgotten my credentials.
It’s all I can do not to react. To keep my eyes fixed firmly on Tertius Ericius. Aequa didn’t even blink. What she’s just been offered is an honour, coveted, something almost anyone in Governance would leap at the chance to get.
“We have chosen you.” The Tertius is firm, even as his eyes dart to me. Frustrated.
Aequa stands there. Hands limp by her side, lost. Bemused and flattered and angry. She finally looks across at me with such dismay, such helplessness, that in that instant I truly, deeply know—if I didn’t before—that I can trust her.
“And she is an excellent choice.” I manage to say it without wavering, without betraying shock or anger or protest. I hold her gaze.
Make sure she sees I mean it. It doesn’t matter if I’m not a Quintus, not if she’s the one who takes the position instead.
We can pursue our investigation together.
I would have wanted to do that anyway, to tell her everything I’ve already told Eidhin, if the positions were reversed. “I can think of no one more deserving.”
A surprised silence, as if none of them can quite believe what they’re hearing.
“That is … gracious, Catenicus,” says Callidus’s father, glancing between Aequa and me as if trying to decipher a puzzle.
Aequa searches for confirmation in my eyes, then nods slowly. “It is.” She turns to Tertius Ericius, still looking half dazed from the turn of events. “Thank you, Tertius Ericius. It’s an honour.”
The Tertius exhales. I’m not sure if he’s relieved or frustrated by my lack of protest. “There are some documents you’ll need to fill out. If you’ll come with us?”
“Of course.” She hesitates. “May I speak with Catenicus for a moment, first?”
“Certainly.”
The men wander a short distance away and Aequa turns to me. Expression smooth, voice utterly mortified. “Vis. Gods’ graves. My gods-damned father. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” She’s made the same, likely correct, assumption that I have: Advenius saw an opportunity to push her case for Quintus and succeeded. “I meant what I said.”
“I know. That somehow makes it worse, you ass. Why didn’t you fight?”
“Because all I care about is figuring out what really happened at the Iudicium, and finding the people responsible.” I let the cold certainty of my tone tell her how serious I am. “There’s a lot we need to talk about.”
Aequa examines me. Nods her understanding. “I’ll make sure we’re working together.” She’s always been quick. “See you soon.”
She flashes a dazed smile and hurries off, quickly replaced by Tertius Ericius, who has hung back as Aequa and the other senators march off up the hill.
“I’m sorry, Catenicus.” He says it quietly as he approaches. “I did what I could, but the others argued that after the injury to Decimus’s son, it would look antagonistic to reward you. You’re certain your friend can be trusted?” He tilts his head back in the direction of the retreating group.
“Yes.” He’s concluded why I didn’t push my case, then.
“Alright. I will do for her what I would have done for you, then.” He exhales. Gives me an appraising look. “I think she would have refused the position, if you’d asked. Keep her close. Loyalty like that … you won’t find it in Caten.”
“I know.”
“And as for you, we’ll have to find a position that allows you to work with Aequa, but also still provides a path to office.” He chews his lip, thinking as he says it.
I cough. “I’m not interested in a Consulship, Tertius.”
“That doesn’t mean others aren’t interested in putting you there.
I heard about your speech, this morning.
Everyone has. Many are going to see the potential of your rising star, no matter what happened here today and no matter your apparent distaste for politics.
If you really want to do this—if you want justice—then you need to keep your advantages where you can. ”
Silence as I consider the words. I don’t like it, particularly, but he’s not wrong. “That’s good advice, sir. I will.”
He studies me, then claps me on the shoulder and heads back after the rest of the group.
I watch as he limps away, then head across the track. Stop next to the stone horse of Aequa’s chariot and take back the remainder of my Will.
As the pulse of the massive wheel fades in my mind, I exhale. Today could have gone much worse, but the only reason it didn’t is what’s concerning me now. It’s time to stop hiding from this.
I have to figure out exactly what happened to me during the Iudicium.
I have to talk to Veridius.