IN TWO MORE HOURS THE SUN WOULD RISE, MAKING IT more difficult for the lead cleric to hide his face.
As Gracchus skulked through the dark war camp, his need to be anonymous was irritating. It made him want to rebel, to stand erect, to announce his august presence to these lowly legionnaires. But to succeed in his plan, thePon Q’tar lead cleric would have to swallow his pride for the moment and do what he must. And so he hurried on, bent over like some nameless, crippled beggar trying to avoid wandering centurions as he navigated the camp.
The war procession had halted for the night among broad, rolling fields well south of Ellistium. Behind Gracchus the luxurious tents of the emperor, the Tribunes, and thePon Q’tar retreated into the distance, the oil lamps inside each tent casting their soft glow through the canvas and into the night. Between him and his destination were thousands of legionnaires ringing the camp’s center, not to mention the caged animals and the thousands of carts, chariots, and wagons that always accompanied great Rustannican campaigns.
Hurrying on, Gracchus put as much distance between himself and the Blood Royal’s compound as he could. For a moment he regretted the decision to leave the secret structure so far from the center of the camp, only to realize again that he had little choice if he was to visit it without others knowing. He had explained the decision to Vespasian by insisting that the structure would be safer by making it invisible and not circling it with centurion guards, just as it had been when it secretly left Ellistium with the war procession. Vespasian had at first been skeptical of the idea but he finally agreed, largely because his forces had not yet entered enemy territory.
Gracchus had wisely replaced his white and burgundyPon Q’tar robe with the drab brown one he now wore, but it added to his grating sense of ignominy. Pulling the hood higher, he continued to cloak his endowed blood as he hurried across the dewy grass, circumventing yet another group of tired legionnaires as they sat drinking beside a roaring campfire.
There were tens of thousands of empire soldiers in these two accompanying legions alone, and each one knew Gracchus by sight. Worse, there would be many more of them to avoid once Vespasian’s group joined up with the forces waiting at the head of the Six Rivers. Their added numbers would make his visits to the secret building far more difficult, but the die was cast and there could be no going back.
Above all, Vespasian, Persephone, and Lucius must not learn of his secret assignations. Should legionnaires challenge him, Gracchus would silently kill them with the craft, then magically dispose of the bodies. Although desertion among the legions was rare, it was not unheard of, But even Gracchus hoped that that would not be needed-not because he would shrink from murder to achieve his ends, but because it would further complicate his already devious plan. Should the Oraculum give him unwelcome news, he surely didn’t want Vespasian aware of his visits beforehand.
Finally exiting the camp without incident, he scrambled down a small gully, then traveled up a dry river bed for about fifty meters. The great oak tree standing on the riverbank served as his landmark. He stopped and looked around.
The night was still, the three red moons casting their magenta glow over everything with their customary beauty. The night creatures that had stopped singing when he neared gradually took up their songs again as he stood motionless, his endowed senses searching for a sign of human life. When his surroundings finally returned to normal, Gracchus decided that he was at last alone. He raised his arms and called the craft.
Soon a temple appeared in the center of the riverbed, its structure gleaming serenely in the moonlight. Small and low, it was made of white alabaster with a peaked roof and seven steps leading to its columned portico. Heavy marble doors locked from the outside stood high and broad in the facing wall. Although the temple had but one purpose, it was vital to Gracchus’ plans. Despite being a huge encumbrance, the entire Suffragat had agreed that it should come on the campaign. But Gracchus had his own reasons for insisting that the temple be brought along, for there were secrets that only thePon Q’tar must know if the Vagaries were to rule this side of the world as well as the other.
The lead cleric hurried up the stone steps, then called the craft. At once the massive doors swung wide. He walked into the temple, and the doors silently closed behind him. Had anyone been watching, he would have seen the temple start to shimmer, then disappear from sight, leaving only the night creatures to attest that it ever existed.
Lowering his hood, Gracchus walked midway across the highly polished floor. Looking at the far wall he was relieved to see that thePon Q’tar ’s wondrous construct had survived the journey intact. The inside of the temple was simple and bare, with only a handful of enchanted wall torches providing light. The air was warm and odorless.
As he had hoped, the far wall glowed with a soft azure hue. Its depths seemed limitless. Curved shards of white light wheeled and streaked through the azure aura. The strange masterwork of the craft emitted a soft roaring, crackling sound like that of a blazing fire. Raising his hand, Gracchus again summoned the craft. At once the shimmering wall slid closer, causing the familiar glowing cube to take form. The cube came to a stop a few meters from his boots.
“Come to me,” he ordered.
As the Oraculum emerged, a strange look showed on her face, and her dark eyes searched the unfamiliar room. Her tattered gray gown flowing about her in the mist, she said nothing as she hung weightless in her endowed prison.
“Do you know where you are, Matsuko?” Gracchus asked almost politely.
“I know that this room is not the one in which I have been imprisoned for so many centuries,” she answered. “I could sense that this structure was moving and that until only moments ago it was surrounded by the workings of the craft-a spell of invisibility, perhaps. But I do not know where we have come or why.”
“We are on a great campaign against Shashida,” Gracchus answered. “You are now housed in temple built of solid alabaster and especially enchanted to keep you imprisoned. I caused a spell of forgetfulness to pass over you while you and your cube were moved from belowground. We call this place the Oraculum Tempitatum. But you need be told no more than that.”
“A great campaign,” Matsuko mused. At first the news stunned her, but soon a slight smile crossed her lips. “This is the first time that you have taken me from my underground prison. Your reasons for bringing me with you must be important, considering that you could simply have left me in Ellistium and touched my mind to hear my pronouncements. Why am I here, Gracchus?”
The cleric’s jaw hardened. Bringing the Oraculum along on the campaign was a great hardship, but a necessary one. With Vespasian’s blessing, this temple had been hastily constructed by thePon Q’tar to move the Oraculum without fear of her escaping imprisonment.
Moving her glowing cube from one locale to another without encasing it within another strongly walled object was unthinkable-she remained far too powerful for Gracchus to trust such pedestrian measures of confinement as mere chains or barred cages. Only solid, enchanted stone might keep her trapped should she somehow slip the bonds of her azure cube. That was why she had been imprisoned beneath the ground so long ago and why she and her glowing cube were being transported in this gleaming temple, its alabaster sides enchanted by the craft to strengthen them and to cloak the presence of her highly endowed blood.
Causing the temple to become invisible and to float through the air among the advancing legions had been a huge drain on several of the cleric’s gifts. The strain in the coming days would be no less severe. But it was needed because the legions would soon be linking up, then entering Shashidan territory, the Oraculum’s onetime home world. Moreover, the Oraculum was unknown to anyone other than the Suffragat, and so she had to be spirited from the capital in secret. If her pronouncements could be secretly used to their advantage in the war, the clerics’ and emperor’s victories would seem all the more inspired.
Despite her advanced age, Gracchus suspected that the Oraculum’s powers were still great. The Vigors worshippers would not only kill to get her back, but they would consider her return to their midst a huge moral victory. Her escape would be a no less stunning defeat for those who ruled the Rustannican Empire, so no chance could be taken that she might somehow vanish. Gracchus needed her visions if he was to wisely manage the ongoing struggle being carried out by the Viper Lord. But there was another, far more personal reason why he had insisted during the Suffragat voting session that the Oraculum accompany the legions on this mighty campaign. It was one that only he understood and could put into practice. He needed to look into her face as she offered up her pronouncements.
Gracchus had never dared to rely on the convenience of distantly touching her mind to learn what she had to say. Instead, he had for aeons visited her personally. He needed to look into her eyes, to see her face, to hear the quality of her voice to determine the veracity of her words. Indeed, by now his ability to judge her persona had become so keen that he immediately knew when she was lying, and because of it she had not dared do so for centuries. Even so, should he abandon visiting her in person and rely only on touching her mind, he had no doubt that her lying would recommence. Like the desperate campaign against Shashida, the struggle being carried out by the Viper Lord was of the utmost importance. The intelligence gleaned from the Oraculum must be genuine. And for that, only being in her presence would do.
Gracchus refused to answer. She knew why she was here, he realized. Besides, her inquiry was meant only to taunt him, and he would not honor her with a response.
“Tell me what you have seen,” he said.
Again the ghostly, knowing smile crossed the Oraculum’s lips. As it did, a tingle went down Gracchus’ spine.
This is why I come to see her, he thought. It is small gestures like this that tell me if her words are genuine. Her smile says that she has bad news and that she will enjoy telling it to me. That alone is enough to ensure that her information is genuine.
When Matsuko did not speak as soon as the anxious cleric wanted, he took a quick step forward, glaring into her weathered face.
“Tell me, you wizened crone!” he demanded. “What have you seen?”
Again her curious smile surfaced. “I have seen many things,” she answered, “not one of which you will like.”
Gracchus’ heart fell. “Go on,” he said cautiously.
“TheJin’Sai ’s mystics have miniaturized two of their Black Ships,” she answered. “He and two Minion phalanxes enter the caves in search of the Azure Sea. They bring the ships with them. I needn’t tell you why. The other two ships remain full size and were left behind for theJin’Saiou ’s use in hunting down the Viper Lord. They rest in newly constructed cradles that sit alongside the royal palace in Tammerland.”
Gracchus took an involuntary step backward, stunned. “How…” he breathed.
“They used some of the subtle matter to accomplish their ends,” the Oraculum answered. Then she went still again as she floated hauntingly in her majestic cube. Gracchus found her defiant silence infuriating.
Enraged by her teasing answer, he shook his fists at her. “Of course they used the subtle matter, you Vigors bitch!” he shouted. “But how did they come by the specialized knowledge to employ it?”
“From the Shashidans,” she answered. “They left behind both a message that Shashida lay across the Azure Sea, and a formula showing theJin’Sai ’s mystics how to transform the ships. Their plan was perfect. And now the most powerful of all theJin’Sai s ever to walk the earth has finally uncovered it. As we speak, he and his mystics search the Caves. If they are not intercepted and destroyed-”
“I know full well what will happen if they are not destroyed!” Gracchus screamed. He had become so uncharacteristically incensed that his whole body was shaking. Calling the craft, he arduously settled his nerves, then gave the Oraculum a seething look.
“You have made a grave error, Gracchus,” Matsuko said. “Why did you order Khristos and his servants to wait inside the Caves rather than attack theJin’Sai aboveground? Tristan has but two phalanxes with him. By allowing this you have granted him a great advantage, it would seem. Every step he takes brings him that much closer to Shashida.”
The Oraculum smiled again. “Things are unraveling on you, Gracchus,” she said. “It would seem that the leadPon Q’tar cleric is not as invulnerable now as during the heady days of yesteryear.”
Gracchus paced the floor, fuming. He would not tell her why he had allowed theJin’Sai to enter the caves, even though there had been no other choice. He could not let her know that Khristos’ servants were starving for lack of endowed bodies on which to feed and that the only way to sustain them in such multitudes and simultaneously augment their powers was to send them into the caves to devour Nicholas’ glowing eggs. But as he considered the situation further, he again took heart.
Khristos still had the element of surprise. Moreover, theJin’Sai ’s forces would be heavily outnumbered. Despite the Oraculum’s grim pronouncements, Gracchus’ plan still had the edge. He could of course commune with Khristos and call off the attack, but that would allow theJin’Sai to reach the sea unimpeded.
No, he realized. It would be better to let things stay on course even if Tristan did bring two ships with him. But the Conclave would have to be stopped at all costs, for Gracchus could not fathom the troubles that would ensue if theJin’Sai crossed the Azure Sea. Even now he could imagine Khristos employing the spell that he had ordered him to use, causing the sounds of the sea to reach the first chamber of the caves and draw theJin’Sai near.
“Tell me, Gracchus,” the Oraculum said, interrupting his thoughts. “Does the Blood Royal know how badly things have gone awry on the other side of the world? If he does, I can only imagine how angry he must be with you. And if not, there must be some facet about all this that you hide from him. Either way, the future does not bode well. You are playing a very dangerous game.”
The sudden combination of the Oraculum’s bad news and her growing insolence caused Gracchus’ anger to finally reach the boiling point. Deciding to teach her a long-awaited lesson in humility, he raised his arms and called the craft.
At once the Oraculum began writhing in exquisite pain-the same pain that Gracchus had used when she had first tried lying to him so long ago. She had not felt such agony for aeons, and it came as a total shock. But this time she was not being punished for lying, because her words had been true. Instead, Gracchus wanted only to reestablish his personal brand of terror.
As Gracchus continued to torture her she felt hot, searing pains burn along her nerve endings like blazing fires running amok through a tinder-dry forest. She screamed as Gracchus’ wicked gifts continued to pass through the cube-the cube that had been enchanted in such a way that his spells could reach her, but inside of which only her ability to see what the Orb of the Vigor saw was of use to her. She had tried for aeons to secretly unravel Gracchus’ manipulative spell that enforced this one-sided effect, but to no end. And so she hung helpless in the azure mist, her body jangling like a marionette manipulated by a cruel master.
Gracchus finally stopped the spell, and the Oraculum crashed to the floor. He hadn’t killed her-that would be unthinkable, even for him. He needed her alive, at least until his secret plans involving Vespasian, the campaign, and the Viper Lord had come to fruition. But when that day arrived, he would relish watching her die.
As she lay sobbing on the cold stone floor he called the craft and ordered the glistening azure cube to again retreat into the far wall. Pulling up the hood of his well-worn robe, he ordered the doors to open and briskly exited the Oraculum Tempitatum. There were new things to be done, including communing with Khristos as soon as possible.
When the doors closed, Matsuko slowly raised her head. She felt broken, used, abandoned. Tears filled her eyes, their coming as much a result of having to tell Gracchus the truth as of the intense pain he had inflicted on her. The physical pain would go away, she realized, but the psychological torment of continually having to help Gracchus defeat her Shashidan countrymen would remain, just as it had done for countless centuries.
Suddenly she could again sense Gracchus’ unique application of the craft, suggesting that this strange new prison in which he was now housed had once more become invisible. Her fellow Shashidans might soon be looking right at it and not know that it existed or that she was imprisoned inside. That thought pierced her being more painfully than any torture the lead cleric might inflict on her.
How clever, Gracchus, she thought as what strength she still possessed slowly returned. But the lead cleric had said too much, she realized. Unless she missed her guess, she and this strange new temple would soon be in Shashidan territory. For what reason, she still did not know. But one thing was certain.
If there was a way to escape this new prison, she would find it and take her sweet, long-overdue revenge.