68. EPILOGUE
“Rasenna victorious! Rasenna victorious!”
The shouts resonated through the Senate chamber as hundreds of white-clothed senators stood, hands in the air, crying out to the skies and thanking both their gods and their Emperor.
Clothed in his purple tebenna threaded with gold, Caius drank in the praise and applause from the raised dais in the middle of the chamber.
News of the battle in the Western Lands had reached Kisra, and the whole city was celebrating the victory. Sounds of music and clouds of incense filled the streets. Velthur and his Tarquinian guards were showered in flowers despite having played no part in the battle.
Most important of all, Laran’s temple was bursting with more votive offerings than the priests could accept. Outside, a permanent crowd of devoted followers chanted thanks to their patron god.
The treaty with the Western barbarians sixteen years ago had been nothing short of a defeat, and now the Rasennans rejoiced to see their Empire flourish once more under the protection of Laran and its Emperor.
But none rejoiced as much as Caius. Basking in his own glory, he refused to acknowledge the fury on Cilnius’ face. The Senate leader and his group of followers remained placid amid the celebrations.
When the shouts quieted, Caius raised his arms, calling everyone’s attention.
“My wise and faithful senators.” His deep voice carried through the chamber. “None of this could have happened without our devotion to Laran, who fought alongside our brave soldiers. You made the right decision prolonging his festivities to ten symbolic days, and he has rewarded us for it!”
The crowd burst into cheers, praising the god of war.
“Laran watches over us, and as I have always promised, together we will bring Rasenna to victory!”
“Praise Laran! Praise the Emperor!”
With a mere glance from Caius, Perperna retrieved a scroll and waved it in the air. “Let us build a temple for Emperor Tarquinius!”
As planned, his words were met with a roar of approval. Although Cilnius and his followers shouted in disagreement, their cries were drowned out by the cheers and applause that filled the chamber.
“Let us build a new temple for our Emperor!” Sanquinius looked among the assembly of senators. “All those in favour, come stand by our side!”
The crowd surged towards Perperna, Sanquinius, and their friends, who gave them a warm welcome.
Caius pressed his lips together to restrain a smile. Keeping up the appearance of a gracious Emperor who only served Rasenna’s best interests, he placed a hand on his chest to show his appreciation.
The plans for his temple in Kisra were already underway and would be the most ambitious the Empire had ever seen. His architects had designed plans for a colossal temple in the city centre, built in a sacred space where hundreds of worshippers would gather each day.
The senators’ applause began anew. Across the chamber, standing still among a handful of followers, Cilnius glared at him, his lip curled in disgust. Caius’ smile broke through. The Senate had officially approved the construction of his temple, and his opponents could do nothing to stop him now.
The temple was the first of many Caius intended to build throughout the Empire. The thousands he ruled would turn away from their weak gods and come to worship him instead. It would take time and patience, but Caius had an abundance of both.
When gods fell, mortals were quick to take their place.
Few succeeded, but Caius would not fail.
He had waited far too long for this moment.
The banquet hosted at the Emperor’s Palace in celebration of the legions’ victory was a lavish affair. Caius had spared no expense, and all the important Rasennan families were in attendance.
The finest musicians, acrobats, and dancers of Kisra had been brought to entertain the guests. All day, an army of cooks had slaved away in the kitchens to prepare enough food to feed a legion. The festivities had begun in the evening and would last well into the night.
“Emperor Tarquinius!” Sanquinius’ beautiful young wife, Lethi Sanquinia, stepped away from her husband’s side to greet Caius and summoned a slave to fill their cups with wine from Pumpai. “This feast is delightful.”
Lethi placed a hand on his bare shoulder, gliding it down his arm. Caius gave her his full attention while deftly evading her touch by stepping just out of reach. If Velthur spotted them together, his lover wouldn’t appreciate the most beautiful woman of all Kisra flitting around him.
“Laran be praised.” Lethi moved her hand to her neck instead, casually tracing her fingertips along the soft contours of her cleavage. “He has answered my wish for our paths to cross tonight.”
Laran had nothing to do with their paths crossing again. Lethi was one of his very best spies in the city, and Caius had insisted that Sanquinius bring his wife to the feast so he could meet up with her.
“Even if there were a thousand guests, I’d always find time for you, my lady,” Caius said in a smooth voice.
A sheer, saffron gown hugged her feminine curves, beaded with pearls and precious gems around her bust, making her honey-coloured eyes sparkle. The sight was enticing and reminded Caius why he’d spent so many nights in her company the previous summer.
“You flatter me.” She smiled into her cup, touching the gold and red jasper earrings Caius had given her the last time they’d met. “All night I’ve been surrounded by praises in your honour, and thought you might like to hear them.”
Caius motioned towards the balcony overlooking the city below, and once they were alone, he pulled her to the side, away from any prying eyes. “Tell me everything.”
With her particular beauty Gifted by Turan, men flocked to Lethi like bees to a flower, eager to please and delight her with all sorts of gossip and secrets.
Her husband, Sanquinius, was none the wiser, too occupied with his duties to the Senate and his Emperor.
“I heard Megarians were also present at the hillfort battle in the Western Lands.” Lethi covered her mouth behind her slender hand in case of any spies. “A certain Megarian rebel named Leukos, who coincidentally shares the same name as King Pandion’s third son.”
Caius’ grip on his silver drinking cup was so tight that his bones creaked under the pressure. It was one thing for Dalmatius, one of his most trusted men, to send word about the Megarian prince appearing at the hillfort. It was quite another that the same news was spreading through his feast like common gossip.
“It was all Cilnius could talk about with my husband while the Parthian dancers entertained your guests.”
He gritted his teeth. “Is that it?”
“Other than the battle, everyone is talking about your admirable son—so handsome, just like his father.”
Everyone had taken a liking to Arruns during Laran’s festivities, so much so that Caius had decided to keep him for the time being.
Lethi’s soft touch on his arm tore him from his thoughts. The look she gave him was clear in its meaning. One he’d received many times since they’d met.
Unable to resist, he trailed his fingers along the delicate skin of her neck. “I’ll send for you tomorrow.”
Lethi frowned, but before she could voice her protest, Caius left, heading back to the feast and downing his wine.
A red-faced Perperna stood in the open courtyard, surrounded by guests who clapped along as he sang Caius’ praises. Next to the fountain, Arruns was deep in conversation with two notable heads of families from the mining city of Fufluna.
Caius should have been at the boy’s side, keeping watch, but Lethi’s words troubled him.
How had Cilnius found out about the Megarians so quickly? What was he planning? More importantly, if the Megarian prince was responsible for the Blood Wolf’s disappearance, then Caius had misjudged him. Leukos was far more dangerous than he’d expected and had to be dealt with soon.
A commotion broke out across the courtyard. Plecu stood in front of Agrippa Caelius, blocking his path. Caius halted. His master of the house must have lost his mind to defy one of the wealthiest men in Velch. Yet when another figure, bowing behind Caelius and half-hidden in the shadows, straightened, Caius froze.
At the sight of the long face and prominent brow, a blinding rage scorched through him. How dare Caelius bring one of them before his Emperor?
He grabbed the closest Tarquinian guard by the cloak. “Get that beast out of my palace, or I’ll gut it myself. And then send for Velthur. Make it quick.”
The guard’s eyes widened. “Yes, Imperator.”
He bolted towards the Non-Human, two more guards coming to assist him. Needing to get away before his guests noticed his foul mood, Caius skirted the feast and headed for his chambers.
He plucked Dalmatius’ scroll from the folds of his tebenna and read each word again. According to the praefect, the Blood Wolf hadn’t sent word in days, and three Megarians had escaped from the hillfort, including one Gifted with ice magic.
Leukos.
The Megarian prince had been Gifted by his mother’s patron deity. Some minor Thracian god, not the Sea God.
Caius’ temper flared. The Blood Wolf had been searching for the wrong Mark for years!
He flung the doors to his room wide open and began to pace back and forth, his mind racing.
First, the Omega’s return. And now this.
His vision clouded, and he threw the scroll with a guttural roar before sweeping an arm over his desk. Scrolls, ink, and a jug of water flew across his chambers and shattered against the marble floor.
Footsteps sounded in the corridor, and Velthur slipped inside, shutting the doors behind him. The combination of his muscled cuirass and rich purple cloak was striking, but not enough to appease Caius.
Velthur prowled closer, his face flushed from too much wine and a lazy smile on his lips. “I thought you wanted to wait until after the guests had left…” Noticing the scrolls and broken debris on the floor, he halted. “What happened?”
Caius’ answer was sharp. “The North Wind Gifted Prince Leukos. Not the Sea God.”
Velthur went rigid. “Why are you telling me this?”
“Because the trackers were given the wrong information, and now the Blood Wolf is probably dead.”
Caius couldn’t hide the truth about the trackers from Velthur anymore. The Blood Wolf had failed, and the little Megarian prince was becoming a threat to his plans. Caius should have killed the brat ten years ago, along with the rest of his family.
A shadow crossed Velthur’s face. “We had a deal, Caius.”
Caius gave a dark laugh. He still remembered the teenage boy who had appeared in his tent one day, flanked by three Silver Shields. Chin held high, and fists clenched at his sides, the boy had offered him a reckless deal: a secret way into Megara after years of siege in exchange for sparing Prince Leukos’ life.
A deal, Caius now understood, that had been too good to be true. No matter how innocent, an enemy’s child always grew into a man bent on revenge.
Caius had known this. He’d seen it countless times. Yet the fire burning in the teenage boy’s dark gaze that day had moved him, and in a moment of weakness, he’d agreed to the deal.
Besides, Velthur had also managed to turn three Silver Shields against their king.
“Your brother is causing trouble.”
Velthur flinched. “Leukos isn’t my brother. Not anymore.”
“And yet the little Megarian boy you were so keen to protect is now running around my provinces, gathering allies.” Caius cursed, crossing the distance between them in three long strides. “He’s headed back to Achaea. Why? Is he hoping to take back Megara?”
“No, of course not.” Velthur held his ground, his voice steady. “There’s nothing but death and destruction there. We made sure of it.”
Caius snatched his face in a firm grip, looming over him. “Then tell me, Prince Galen…”
Blood drained from Velthur’s face at the use of his Megarian name.
“Where will your brother go next?”
“Tiryns.” His dark eyes gleamed, and for a moment, he resembled the shrewd youth Caius had first encountered who’d forsaken his family and homeland in pursuit of power. “Queen Charis has protected him before and she’ll do so again. She’s the strongest ally he can hope for. They’re betrothed.”
Caius released him, searching for any trace of deception on his handsome lover’s face, and found none.
“Well then, what a fortunate coincidence that two of my legions are headed there as we speak. They’ll lay siege to the city.”
He grabbed the closest jug of wine and poured himself a cup. A heavy silence stretched on. Velthur stood statue-still by the door, his lips pale. Caius had killed more than one man in his lover’s presence when enraged, and Velthur was right to be cautious.
At last, Caius took pity on him and beckoned him over. “Here, have some wine.”
He offered a cup, and Velthur took a few sips.
“You betrayed your homeland ten years ago for a reason.” Caius leaned closer, brushing away a dark drop of wine that clung to Velthur’s full lips with his thumb before bringing it to his mouth.
Velthur’s gaze tracked the movement, his eyes darkening.
“Do not ever forget where your loyalties lie.”
“Of course, Imperator.”
As much as Caius wanted to stay with his lover and show him how much he appreciated his loyalty, there was work to be done. “Leukos was spotted at the Green Mountains’ hillfort, and now Cilnius is spreading the word about him.”
Velthur’s brow lowered. “I’ll take care of the senator.”
“No. Our mutual hatred is public knowledge.” Cilnius and his group had grown bold in past months, going so far as to post notices in Kisra condemning Caius’ rule. “If anything happens to him, the Senate will suspect me. Send an assassin after one of his allies. There are many here tonight, enjoying more wine than they should. Set up an ambush on their way home. Make sure it looks like a cutthroat, nothing more.”
Velthur nodded, and Caius shifted his attention to the mess he’d created on the floor, searching for Dalmatius’ letter. “It will send a clear message to Cilnius.” The small scroll was lying by the foot of his bed. “As for Tiryns, tell our spies to keep an eye out for your brother. Should he arrive with the rebels, and should Queen Charis be inclined to offer them protection, I’ll send the Black Helmets to deal with Tiryns once and for all.”
“Understood.”
Velthur handed him back the cup and left. He would carry out Caius’ orders to perfection, as he always did.
After pouring himself more wine, Caius retrieved the scroll from the ground and released a long breath. He still had one more person to see tonight.
“Dalmatius found her.” Caius passed the scroll to Sagar. As usual, Laran’s chief priest waited for him in his chambers beneath the temple. “The warrior Laran promised.”
Sagar glanced over the letter. “So it seems.”
A sour smell filled the air as Caius entered, and he nearly gagged. A couple of torches illuminated the confined chamber, and Sagar proceeded to light the myriad of candles adorning the black marble altar. Wild shadows stretched across the damp grey walls as if Vanth herself had risen from the depths of the Underworld to join them.
The flickering lights awoke various caged animals hanging from the ceiling, who squawked and screeched. That explained the smell. Sagar threw scraps of food into the cages, and the animals settled.
The priest’s demure reaction to Dalmatius’ letter was unexpected.
“We must invite her to the temple at once,” Caius said.
“Patience, Tarquinius. Dalmatius will bring her when the time is right.” Sagar wound a stiff linen around his hand up to his elbow before plunging it inside a cage and retrieving a tawny owl. It squawked, flapping its wings, but Sagar’s grip was tight around its legs. Not wasting a moment, he brought the owl onto the altar and plunged a knife into its breast.
The bird shrieked once more and then was silent.
“You must beware the Omega.” The priest’s dark gaze darted between the dying owl and the small pool of blood that dripped from the wound. “It is as we fear. The girl who began the rebellion in Bruna. She defeated the Blood Wolf and took his Gift.”
“The sister?” Caius’ instinct had been right, and a fear he hadn’t felt in years crept into his gut.
Sagar traced a long fingernail through the red blood trickling over the dead owl’s feathers, seeing glimpses of the future that Caius could not.
“One of the Achaean Twelve will aid her, train her.”
“The Twelve?” Caius pounded a fist on the altar. “Which one dares to defy me? The Sea God? The Messenger? I’ve destroyed their followers, their temples. Whatever power they cling to, it is weak. Laran will prevail. I will prevail!”
Sagar stiffened. In the next moment, he retracted his hand from the blood and snatched a flaming torch from its sconce to set the owl on fire.
The flames engulfed the small body.
In all their years together, Caius had rarely seen the old priest become spooked. His lined face was ashen. “She saw me.”
“Who? The Huntress?” Caius took the torch from Sagar’s hand. A sheen of sweat covered the priest’s brow. Which one of the Twelve could extract such a response from him? “Shall I send more trackers after the Amazons?”
Sagar shook his head. “No, the Huntress has already Gifted the Omega. It is too late.”
“Then who?”
His mind churned, but only one among the Twelve had been counselling the Achaeans from the shadows and Gifting them with armour and wisdom. One who continued to defy Rasenna by protecting Tiryns.
“Pallas,” Sagar breathed.
Caius cursed her name out loud. Hadn’t she learned her lesson after he’d killed Kallinos in Laran’s arena? How many of her Gifted had he slaughtered over the years?
He’d bested her before, and he’d do it again.
“Let the Grey-Eyed Maiden send her heroes,” he declared, his lips twisting into a smile. “I’ll gladly crush them all and send them back in pieces.”