Chapter thirty

Ortia

 

Marthian went to sit at her usual place in the Emperor’s council chamber, at the opposite end of the rectangular walnut table, in the traditional proconsular position.  The table had been used for war councils before but it had somehow gained an extra sheen since Pallatian had re-occupied the PMB[1].

She had almost lowered her bottom on to the chair when the Emperor had nodded at her to stand up. She suppressed a niggle of irritation and struggled back up as gracefully as she could manage.  She assumed a diplomatic smile and walked over to her liege lord.

‘Sit here’ he said, pointing to the seat on his right hand. Marthian was shocked. She just prevented herself blurting out ‘that’s Titanius’s place’. She looked across to find out where the general was – he was already settled in on Pallatian’s left hand side. She caught his eye, he smiled serenely. This was clearly a set up.

‘Sit down, dear Marthian – I wanted to have you as close as possible to me’

In anyone even slightly more heterosexual than Pallatian this would have seemed a bit creepy, but from him it just seemed overly friendly and cloying. It also suggested that her fears that he was becoming more and more reliant on her might well be true. Worst of all, he had started to use her first name.

She smiled politely and sat down. Aurelian shot her a look that she couldn’t read and he settled down in his usual spot, which was now next to her empty chair. This was an inner war council meeting, there were just the four of them, and so he was now isolated at one end of the table. She tried to catch his eye again, but this time he was pointedly avoiding her gaze. As so often happened, he had failed to read her mind – a grievous fault of his. She forced herself to concentrate on the Emperor.

‘I’ve been thinking about our present predicament a lot; and I have taken heed of the Proconsul’s advice’

Marthian wondered which bit of advice he meant – her lord seemed addicted to advice but she suspected it was only hers he listened to, and only for the time being. Who knew who he’d turn to tomorrow? She distrusted this level of confidence in anyone. Everyone blundered eventually and when that happened the career consequences were likely to be severe. Fortunately, the Emperor didn’t wait for any response – he just carried on.

‘Tomorrow morning I plan to take the bulk of the army, along with the prisoners to Portalis, where we know that the garrison is still loyal. From there it will be far easier to pursue any campaign...’

Marthian glanced up at him. He grinned back at her with school-boy satisfaction.

‘...political or military...’

Marthian forced herself to smile back, pretending to acknowledge his cleverness. Grow up, boy she thought to herself and was immediately ashamed of her reflex. This is my Emperor she told herself.

‘...As I was saying, I intend to send out envoys to the senatorial rebels and aim to find a solution that will allow them to save face without getting off entirely free of censure’

He was still looking at Marthian – daring her to object. He shifted his gaze to Titanius and Marthian saw the slightest hint of a shrug from him. It was clear that the general had been told to keep quiet. Marthian wondered why.

‘What sort of censure?’ she asked

Pallatian thought for a moment, his right hand held up, theatrically, against the side of his head.

‘A moderate-sized fine; perhaps some confiscation of land...’

‘And why would they accept such terms?’

‘Because I am offering my own concessions – based, as it happens, on some of your proposals, Proconsul’

Marthian proceeded with exaggerated care. She could sense a trap when she saw one.

‘What sort of concessions do you mean, my lord?’

Pallatian gestured towards Titanius. Marthian hadn’t paid him much attention, but now that she was concentrating she could see that he was in civvies. He was dressed much as before but with no insignia on his jacket. She suspected that he’d just had the markings removed from his uniform. This had all the hallmarks of one of the Emperor’s elaborate practical jokes.

‘I have temporarily relieved Citizen Titanius of his duties’ explained Pallatian, combining smugness and concern in a single expression.

Marthian was shocked – this was a major over-interpretation of her advice. She searched around for a sensible response. Fortunately, the Emperor wasn’t expecting anything from her yet. He ploughed on.

‘I’ve ordered this temporary suspension in order to allow a full review to be conducted...’

Titanius nodded gravely – it seemed that he at least was taking things seriously.

 ‘I think it only fitting that the review should be written by my most trusted advisor...’

 Marthian felt a pit open up in her stomach. She knew exactly what was coming next, but there was no escaping it.

‘So, I am requesting that Proconsul Marthian write a report over the next few months and that during that time Citizen Titanius be confined to the city of Ortia under her care’

 Pallatian nodded at Marthian and she forced a smile. Who on earth will believe a report written by your new favourite? was her immediate thought.

‘In the meantime’ the Emperor continued, ‘I will need to appoint a temporary supreme commander of my army...’

He peered down at Aurelian. The familiar half-cruel smile flickered on his lips.

 ‘Come closer, General – you can’t be my Acting Supreme Commander sitting all the way over there, now, can you...’

Aurelian looked up, a little like a startled rabbit.

‘My Lord – is this some sort of joke?’

Pallatian pretended to look hurt. His eyes flashed that he was lying, however. Marthian was shocked to find that he was ready to play these tinkering games with everyone – friend or foe, lover or confidante.

‘A joke, general? Of course, it’s not a joke. In fact, it is inevitable. As the only other general here, you are, by definition, the next in line in my military command’

Marthian willed Aurelian to pull himself together. He stood up and saluted his secular commander-in-chief. 

‘At your service, my lord commander’ he barked, ‘what are your instructions?’

The Emperor turned to Titanius. They shared a moment’s silent communication, which, because of where she was sitting, she couldn’t see at all.  It was only when Titanius got up that she could see his wan smile, but he looked more tired than upset.  He walked over to  Aurelian and fished his epaulettes out of his pocket; the insignia of purple eagle and crossed sword and bow were clearly visible.  Just one extra bow for a supreme commander thought Marthian, that doesn’t seem much of an advancement. Aurelian opened his palm as if he were about to be branded. There was a still moment when the badge of office changed hands. Aurelian finally looked at Marthian – she nodded. You’re his general now she told him, wordlessly. There was a tiny lump in her throat.

‘You can stand down, Citizen Titanius’ ordered the Emperor. Titanius turned to salute his liege lord and lefty briskly. He was a good soldier – he didn’t look back.   

Marthian marvelled at the formality – even here where the only elves present were two pairs of lovers. She wondered about the material of Pallatian’s heart. Perhaps it was the marble of Imperial columns.

They sat back down; with Aurelian now to his lord’s left and Marthian on his right. Pallatian turned to Marthian. It was clear that he had read some of her feelings

‘It’s only temporary; just a tactical manoeuvre...’

Marthian forced herself to nod as enthusiastically as she was able. This seemed to satisfy Pallatian’s conscience and they moved on.

‘As I said, my plan now is to move most of my army to Portalis. From there it will be easy enough to negotiate with the rebels and pass over the prisoners at an opportune time’

Marthian considered this without thinking it through fully.

‘A sensible plan, my lord’ she said, ‘it is certainly hard to negotiate from here’

Aurelian mumbled his support. Pallatian smiled.

‘That’s good – we’ll discuss the details once you’ve sorted out the troops, General. I’d like us to leave as soon as possible’

Aurelian made no sound, but his eyes automatically shifted to catch Marthian’s gaze. She felt a sudden constriction in her chest, as if her heart were about to burst. A vision of a cold, empty bed filled her mind. She knew what these feelings meant all too well but she was determined to resist them.  She had no intention of swapping homesickness for lovesickness.

‘Will you leave any of the Imperial garrison here?’ she asked, in an even tone.

‘I’ll leave Aurelian to decide the fine details. In the meantime, proconsul, perhaps we can talk later about what additional political solutions are available...’  

‘Of course, my lord’ she said, ‘I am always at your disposal’

‘We’ll have dinner tonight, then’ he announced.

He stood up and grinned at both of them. Aurelian saluted, Marthian bowed and then he was gone.  The lovers were left to contemplate the renewal of their separation.

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[1] The Perclivius Memorial Building. Commandeered by the usurper-proconsul, Perclivius, during the Third Tlaxacan War as his headquarters, subsequently used by the Emperor on his occasional visits to the city.