"My little brother?"
"Your mother conceived another child in under a year after she gave birth to you against the healer's advice," he explained, his thumb twiddling the short stem of the carnation he kept hidden under his arm. "Your father wanted a son, and fortunately indeed, it was a boy, who died, unfortunately, he was a stillborn. Your mother escaped Kish by the skin of her teeth. Your crying brought her back, so I've learned."
"Where did you learn that?"
"Don't you know it already?"
"Remus and Mother?" She shook her head in disbelief, her eyes training on him. "It can't be."
"Yes, he loved her." Hardien met her gaze. "But don't fret. You're your father's true blood. Remus had never revealed his affection at the time, not even to your mother. That wuss." He permitted himself a chuckle.
"And how did such a secret come to your knowledge?"
The chuckle rose into a laugh. "Enemy of an enemy is a good friend, my lady."
Axles creaked, and wagon wheels trundled, drawing near from a distance. Lumbering through the meadow fields were the rest of their caravan. A slave man in a roughspun gilet hurried to the bandstand on quick, short steps. Bowing his head low, he reported to Hardien the count of their freight.
"Take the specialty to the Palazzo," Hardien commanded. "And the rest to Lord Remus. His men will take care of the rest." As he spoke, clouds tumbled from the north and shrouded the sun. The sky lowered without warning, fissured by a strike of lightning. Thunder shook the earth from afar.
"So fickle a season as the spring, like the fate yet to befall us all," he mused, dipping his head out. "You know there was also a storm on the night your brother was born and died?" A heavy drop from the gathered clouds flicked his brow. He withdrew his head. "Remus wrote the poem without writing it. The words came to him while he stayed at your mother's bedside. And do you know where your father was that night?"
Ariadne laughed quietly, her shoulders shaking while her hazel eyes glittered with that which could not be laughter.
"He was at a brothel, yes," Hardien sighed as he resumed. "But he ain't having fun that night, either. Tormented by Augustus' triumphant return, he ached with jealousy, if not self-loathing, or both. So, back to your question regarding what good is there for Remus. He wanted –"
"Woe betide Marcus."
Hardien winked. "Nigh on ten years Remus had squired for your father, the man knew exactly where to scratch. He knew Marcus wanted to win not just the war but the court. He would make the ships bigger, stronger, and heavier, so as to beat Augustus. It didn't take Remus much effort to persuade him to have each ship equipped with a claw three times in size and weight than the one Augustus had. He kept from your father, however, that the Senecans had downsized all their vessels for the sole purpose of capsizing Renanian juggernauts. He had earned Marcus the time for him to rise high only to fall hard."
The wind wooshed by, ruffling the meadow like the crests of waves. Silence ensued amidst the pelting rain. Lightning flashed across the indigo sky, and was caught in Ariadne's eyes. She heaved, turning back to the stela.
"So, it was all Remus. If he had disclosed what he knew, we might not have lost. And if we had not lost, none of it would have happened."
"Even without Remus' interference, the Senecans and the Renanians would still go into wars, and who would win could only be up to speculation," Hardien offered. "Remus did only what he could because he loved your mother. He loved her because of her recognition. And little avail could he be to her with your father around. So, he risked it."
"And what avail exactly has he become to her?" she riposted; her eyes flickered. A stubborn smile kept tears from falling.
"He did mean for Marcus to die at the sea. But Luke Legidus brought him ashore."
"Enlight me, my lord," said Ariadne, doubling her hands, her voice a quaver. "Wasn't your grandfather, Valerius Clemen Aelius, the Gold Master to the Consulship? And wasn't his daughter married to Consul Glaber? If we didn't lose the war, and if the Consulship didn't collapse, Glaber wouldn't have banished your house. So, how did Remus befriend the victim of his short-sighted folly?"
"Glaber never banished the Aelius. That's a yarn Marcus spun." Hardien smiled wryly, his words feeling bitter on his tongue. "As I've said, the war was inevitable, and no one can guarantee how it'd end with or without Remus' role in it. And with or without Remus, fraught with disagreements, the Consulship was on the brink of collapse. And to your question, tell me, my lady, what was the exact cause of the Civil War?"
She looked at him incredulously. "When Glaber left Pethens to negotiate terms with the Senecans after we lost the Second Huronic War, Claudius betrayed him, refusing his return, and kept hostage of his wife, your aunt, as so records the Renanian Chronicle," she paused, glancing up at him. "Or is it also yarn?"
Hardien chuckled. "Do you remember anything from the time that may contradict what the Chronicle records? How did you and your mother escape from Pethens?"
Ariadne drew a long breath. "We left before Glaber. Remus said it was nice to get out of the city in the spring. He had arranged the trip for us with other wives and children of the commanders who followed Glaber," she paused, her eyes faltered. "But your aunt and her children didn't join us, nor any member of House Aelius."
"They didn't join you because Glaber meant to leave them behind," he intoned, his gaze derisive. "He left them behind so it wouldn't seem suspicious to Claudius. Knowing Claudius wouldn't actually hurt them, rendering the hostage futile, Glaber left without a word. During the negotiation, he didn't say anything he had promised Claudius but agreed to everything the Senecans demanded. Regardless of the many disagreements between the two Consuls that might as well be fictional, Glaber betrayed Claudius first."
Compressing her lips, Ariadne looked down.
"He's right about Claudius though," Hardien added, his voice losing steam. "He didn't hurt anyone Glaber left behind and let them leave Pethens before the siege."
"Your house feels in debt to Claudius, and Remus, the enemy of the enemy became your friend."
Hardien nodded.
"Did Remus look for your father after the war? Who initiated the contact?"
"Laelia Euphrates." He sneered. The surprise he saw flitting across her eyes amused him. "The woman thinks she is so clever she assigned Remus and Luke Legidus to look for and terminate the rest of the Aelius. And when Remus left, she had your mother executed," he paused to assess the damage. "Are you alright?"
She swung away and leaned on a hand propped against the engraved slate; her lips parted and closed. Tucking her chin to the shoulder, she hid her face from him. "Pardon me for asking," she said, "but which year were you born?"
Flummoxed by a sudden change of the subject, Hardien cocked an eye.
"If I remember correctly," she went on despite his silence. "You were of the same age as Princess Selene."
"Why does it matter?"
"It matters because while Lord Marcellus has granted you the family name, you were his bastard never heard of until you came to find us in the north. No offense."
"None taken."
"So, why do you care?" she asked, wheeling herself around to face him. "Why should you care about a father who had abandoned you since birth? You never lived a day of our Civil War. Why bear the weight of vengeance when you weren't even a victim?"
A lightning bolt cleft down in her backdrop, coating her auburn hair in a gossamer of silver. Hardien licked the seam of his lips.
Why should I care?
"Us Kygerians used to be different," he observed at last. "Women needed no such sanctuary as marriage to bear children. And Mother suffered no such stigma that betides Renanian women after the night she spent with Father, who came to negotiate trade routes through the archipelagoes. When I was born, I was raised by everyone like every other Kygerian child. A utopia if you will. But like all utopias, it grew problematic once it grew bigger. Since what is mine is also yours, slyness crept in. More mooched off the fewer who still worked. Not to mention –"
"Incest?"
He nodded. "When Father fled to us with the rest of his house, Kygeria was on the verge of barbarism. Father turned it around without having to resort to force. Trading Kygerian produce with Lord Remus helped us make a fortune. And once there was wealth, folks would want to distribute and privatize. We even adopted marriage without Father putting it in words."
"And yet ironically, you were born out of his own marriage," she jested.
A gust of wind swept northeast, splintering the heavy droplets of rain that splattered their faces like prickles.
"Irony humbles a man," musing on her, he hummed in reply. "Reminding him that to every immaculate plan, the chance to err remains."
"Do you consider yourself or your own mother an error?"
"I consider marriage an erroneous but inevitable upshot of progress."
She halted, in words as in motion, while her feline eyes widened. Slowly bringing her palms together, she applauded him.
Hardien gestured a bow. "So, you see how everything strings together now," he continued. "Remus found Father in Kygeria. On the day the news reached him about your mother, he allied with Father. They chose my name for the family trademark, Hardien Herbs, to keep the Aelius out of sight. And when Remus returned, he brought Laelia the decomposed cadaver of prisoners who died in dungeons, and blamed the sultry weather."
"Sounds about Remus."
"Ain't it?" Hardien grinned. "All these years he has hustled for the Uranus, he was bidding his time. But never he forgets." Trailing to her side, he tilted his head at the stela. "This is the cenotaph he made for your mother. In Kygeria, we have cenotaphs for those lost on the sea. Father made one for House Claudius. Remus got inspired, too, I surmise, and had the stone engraved for your mother. What he buried under only he knew."
Ariadne kept quiet for a long time. Reaching again at the stela, she ran her fingers upon the inscription and slowly came to her knees. "I've dreamed of this moment," she mumbled, her voice toggling between a laugh and a sob. "I dreamed of bringing Julius to see her. I knew it was impossible. I knew they'd burned her remains on the Pyre of Forgotten. But now I'm here. I'm here before her, but–" Choked on her words, she clamped the back of a hand to her mouth.
Birds cawed, flitting out of the surrounding woods. The rain petered out, and a beam of sun slashed through the thinning clouds.
Hardien glanced up at the clearing sky. He held out his hand. The bulb of carnation was a little damp and wadded from his grip.
For Julius.
Having left it on top of the stela, he spun on his heel. Poodles splashed around him as doubled back to the front and saw the last arriving wagon draw up.
From which alighted Baal Hiram, the Aelius' prophet Father sent for advice and bookkeeping. Attended by two slave boys, the hoary man flounced in a purple toga trimmed with silver linings and embroideries of many a palmette, and dagged sleeves so long they trailed on the ground. A buff man gaunt in the face, he had a flat brow bridge and angry gray eyes that rolled like a hawk behind a shock of grizzle hair, beckoning Hardien over.
Hardien obliged.
"Baal Hiram," he said, licking the back of his teeth as he hung a half smile at the big man. "Rested well last night?"
When the Aelius first arrived in Kygeria with their gold, Baal Hiram jumped to their welcome, proselytizing that the Renanians would civilize their people and strengthen their homeland. A born and raised Kygerian, he now refused to speak in their native tongue. Ashamed of being associated with the past, their collective past, he only conversed in the Renanian dialect.
"You discussed with her your father's plan?" he cut to the chase.
"It could wait."
"Says who?"
"Says the report Remus intercepted."
The hoary old man scowled.
"I must write to Father and extend our stay," Hardien went forth. "If he still wants influence in the north, he has to be patient."
"What happened last night?" asked Baal Hiram, his voice dripping with bitterness. Looking daggers, he held still a grudge against Hardien for keeping him out of the meeting last night.
Hardien paraded a broader smile and clapped the man on his arm thick as if a trunk. "Baal Hiram," he chirped, "you are the most valuable advisor to my house, and I always value your insights! But Lady Ariadne ain't know you, not yet, and trust takes time."
"A woman's trust," he spat. "What we need her trust for? It's the husband we want!"
"Ain't happening."
Baal Hiram's hawk eyes squinted.
"Julius ain't make it," Haridien reported mechanically, refraining from any thoughts. But as the words fled his tongue, they eviscerated nonetheless the parts of him adamant in refusing that Julius really was gone. It was by fate he and Julius could never truly be friends, and by fate still, never had he met a man who earned his respect as did Julius. Between losing an enemy he respected and a kin he despised, he'd always choose the latter. But this was not for him to choose. He never had a choice.
"Pardon me." Coiling his hands, he pivoted away.
"Don't play with me, Hardien!" cried the hoary man, looking daggers. "I know what you did behind your father's back! If you want your secret safe, I suggest you explain to me right now what happened!"
What I did behind father's back. Hardien clucked his tongue. He helped Luke Legidus house a secret legion among his own men in the south, lest the Triumvir's half brother shall come as a threat to his son. In exchange, the legion, would be under Hardien's direct command. So, Baal Hiram had him under watch. Of course he did. Hardien stifled a scoff.
"Lorenzo has seized control of the north," he replied, keeping his voice even. "Though claims injury and remains in the north for now, unless he actually dies there, somehow he will come back. Who will be left in charge of the northern legion?"
"Ain't will be the woman!"
"The northern legion is loyal to but one man," Hardien intoned. "And the man's wife is our key to their loyalty." Tipping his head to the shoulder for a side bow, he left Baal Hiram behind and proceeded back to the rotunda.
In a drafty gallery leading to the main hall behind the paisley portiere, he clapped his hands. "Cabiria! Melita!"
The two slave girls hurried to him.
"Prepare the room for Lady Ariadne and her bath. Be sure you attend to all her requests." Having issued the commands, he turned on his heel. His mind raced as he ascended the stairs to the top floor.
While Baal Hiram had learned about the legion, he didn't know the end game of Hardien's design that once in Pethens, the legion shall keep the Aelius there, and piece by piece, Kygeria shall rid her of their dominance.
Father doesn't mind I have more men so long as they don't threaten him, he brooded. Ergo, it's time to come clean and confess everything Baal Hiram already knows, so when he eventually inform on me to Father, it'll seem like nothing but driving a wedge.
He closed the door to his room.