The Plight of Angels, Page 2

  The virtue of betrayal

  Cor’s great stone villa appeared in the distance. It was a two story magnificent stone structure, real glass windows, with stone pillars holding up balcony that overlooked the entire district. The door was decorated with symbols of the original army of the Servi Sperat, the tribe of which Cor was born into. Its carved patterns formed four wings with bold lines forming lightning bolts from them; the door was constructed as a gift from the soldiers that he commanded in his youth, as a reminder of where he came from. The door itself was guarded by two heavily decorated soldiers who shared the same Armor as Facimus. Cor and Facimus climbed down from the chariot and walked towards the guarded doorway. They were greeted by the soldiers guarding the door, who recognized their king in an instant. Facimus quickly pushed open the door, allowing Cor to enter.

  The doors swung open to greet the weary two. The entry way was dimly lit with candles and comforting; the floors were lined with a woven rug with fantastic reds and blues riddled together with edges coated with a faux gold fabric. The walls were bare and without decoration, which complimented the white stone of which they were constructed from. Just beyond the entrance was a staircase that would take you to the bedrooms, dining room, and slave rooms. But before the stairs, there were three rooms, a store room, guard’s quarters and a study which Cor reserved for his imperial duties at home.

  Facimus walked in after him “The slave girl is still in the dining room” he declared. Cor smiled at the opportunity to shock Facimus further he barked “Go upstairs and kill her then!” Cor was tired, wounded and more importantly wanted an end to today’s sordid affairs. Facimus marched off up the stairs leaving the old man standing in the entryway. Cor admired Facimus greatly after those days they spent together, both his strength and courage were greatly needed. He knew not whether he would still live without him. “That man will be important someday,” he thought to himself.

  Tomorrow he would stand in front of fifty-six men in the senate, a senate that is demanding more and more power every day. Cor knew that the senate was just a circus for the common folk, the true power was held by those few tribal leaders left after the unification. If the senate had the power they wanted those tribal leaders would grab all the land they could and declare themselves independent. If the tribal leaders had the senate abolished then the common folk would rebel. Cor ruled both the senate and the tribal council with the power to veto any decision they made, yet the existence of both fooled the nobles and common people into believing that he, emperor of the Ignissian empire, was subject to anyone's will.

  The virtue of betrayal

  Cor trudged off up the stone steps, taking each step carefully as he went. He pushed open the door that would lead him to his bed and entered unhindered by his wounds. He kicked off his sandals the rug that lined the floor of his bedroom embraced his calloused feet. He fell into bed and began trying to attain some much-needed sleep. The pain in his side flared up from regular agony to something unbelievably more heinous and reminded him of the knife that pierced his ribs. He fell into a short-lived and painful sleep. Cor slept for no less than six hours before being awoken by the chaotic beat of knocking at his door. A noise boomed from behind it “Sir, Head Praetorian Facimus ordered that I wake you up”

  Cor shuddered at the thought of today's possible misfortunes and almost opted to stay in his bed “One day I will rest” He thought to himself as he climbed out of the bed. He walked over to an ornately trimmed wardrobe and began picking out the clothes that he would wear to the senate today. He delayed only for a few minutes before deciding on a heavy white robe and a pair of awfully worn leather sandals. He wrapped the robe around himself, slipped the beaten sandals over his wrinkled feet and began strutting around the room. “For practice” He joked to himself.

  A great many powerful common folks would see him today; if a hint of weakness was demonstrated then even they would entertain taking advantage. His second long strut ended as he pulled open the door to see one of his bodyguards waiting for him. The man stood tall and bore fine Armor layered with gilded symbolism that the soldier himself was unlikely aware of. The man's face was indistinguishable from any other bodyguards when wearing the layered iron body Armor, leather arm guards and beautifully crested helm painted in a crimson red. The exquisite Armor of the Praetorian separated them from any other breed of soldier. The bodyguard bowed his head at the sight of the emperor. “Facimus is waiting outside” he declared. Cor interrupted “Understood, but first I have a duty for you soldier”

  The bodyguard stood to attention and recited the line that all soldiers know “What is your command, sir?” Cor ordered “You are to abandon your post here, go to Lapide” He continued “When you arrive speak to General Titus. Tell him to send two hundred spearmen, three hundred skirmishers and any administrative personnel associated” The bodyguard inquired “What if he asks why?” Cor responded, “Tell him that I have decided to start a new garrison in Muroexelco, he will send the men regardless of what reason I give.” The bodyguard hesitated before leaving.

  The virtue of betrayal

  “How useful a small army would be,” He thought to himself. Although even he knew that this army was more of a gift than a real political manoeuvre. Cor strutted down the stairs and onto the stone path that lay just outside his villa. Unsurprisingly Facimus and four other bodyguards were waiting for him by his personal quadriga, a chariot pulled by four horses. Facimus signalled the other men to mount their chariots while he spoke with Cor. “Can I assume that the failed attempt on your life is a secret that we shouldn’t speak of?” Cor surprised by the candid nature of his question gave the man a simple nod. In return, Facimus whispered “Every other praetorian who witnessed it has been bribed as a precaution”

  Gentle whispers of that sort always lightened Cor’s mood. At his age, a problem handled overnight was much greater than any gift he could afford. Cor responded to Facimus’s confession with a smile. “This day might hold something of value after all” He joked. Facimus grinned and took a position at the reigns of the quadriga. He shouted out to his men “Praetorians! Take your reigns we’re leaving in a moment!” The men quit their idle conversation and each pair took the reins of their chariot.

  Cor stepped onto the quadriga and gave Facimus a nod to indicate that they were leaving. The horses leaped into a gallop with the two other chariots following closely behind. Cor looked over to Facimus to see a smiling and content soldier. “I think I remember promising you a promotion” Cor reminded him. Facimus laughed replying “I think I remember a wounded emperor promising a soldier rewards that he is undeserving of” Cor was almost offended “Deserving or not, you will be general of a new garrison in the Slave Quarter”

  Facimus was shocked “Sir, why not give that position to someone more seasoned?” Cor barked back “You’re a praetorian for fucks sake, if you can command twenty then you can certainly command two thousand” He continued “The life of a garrison general is easy, plan defences, keep the peace and follow the orders of your superiors, just like you do now” Although Facimus hid it well he was excited to engage in this venture, generals hold a lot of power and Facimus was only human. Silence fell between the two as the rattling wheels of the quadriga took them ever closer to the city center.

  The virtue of betrayal

  The wheels of the quadriga slowed to a halt, giving the pair a chance to gaze upon the wondrous structure that was the senate. It was constructed ten years after Cor ascended to power with the help of the tribal counsel, In the many years that followed the senate has been given more power than was ever intended, although still very little. The building itself was scentless and clean, almost entirely without smell, with only odour detectable being that of the senators, who stunk of wine.

  As for the construction, it was built with white stone and decorated with banners bearing a red eagle clutching a snake, the symbol of the Ignissian Empire. It was much larger than Cor’s villa and much taller despite the fa
ct that it had only one floor. Cor’s villa, however, had one advantage in the competition of comfort, the villa was quiet and the senate had never been. Each tiny whisper echoes on the senate floor and in the same fashion each shout becomes a booming earthquake that can easily rattle the bones of an old man like himself.

  The building had a single external door, which leads to a hallway that could guide you through the entirety of the building and eventually onto the senate floor. The Senate floor was the largest room by far and was built like an arena, with seventy heightened seats surrounding an empty floor that the emperor would stand on to speak to the senators. Each week the Senators would debate the important issues of their day, each week they would find themselves powerless to do anything about them. Cor finished marvelling at the senate house and noticed the busy groupings of common folk gathering around to hear news from the senate.

  He stepped down from the quadriga and prepared himself for the incredibly epic nagging he was likely to receive once he stepped inside those doors. The praetorians following him did the same and stood close by Cor’s side. Facimus signalled his men to walk in front of the emperor, leaving little room for another assassination attempt. Facimus was well aware that such risks could not be taken. Cor turned to Facimus and demanded “Give me your sword, soldier” Facimus handed over the sword without hesitation allowing Cor to quickly conceal it under his robe. He put on powerful stride and edged closer to the door of the senate, each step with confidence to cover his wound.

  The virtue of betrayal

  Cor began his cocky march through the now concentrated streets as the senate became closer and closer. The crowds turned to him and cheered his name as he marched up the steps and into that solitary door that would lead him into the senate's long warm corridors. The praetorians including Facimus stayed outside. When the senate was first elected from the common folk they outlawed soldiers being under its roof as a way to avoid coercion in politics. Cor stepped through the door and hastily rushed through the corridors until he reached the senate floor.

  The senate floor was abuzz with talk of all things political, and few things personal. All the senators were here on this day, each one dressed in his own variation of the classic white robe that each and every politician seemed to love wearing in their public appearances. The loudest among the professional debaters was Donivaldus. He was a chubby with short brown receding hair and a voice that had depth and hint of simplicity in tone. He was also the senator most likely to challenge Cor on his issues.

  Donivaldus had much sway in this place which to no surprise irritated Cor to beyond that of minor inconvenience and more often than not edged into the realm competitive destruction of each other's character instead of any real argument. As it always was Donivaldus and Cor agreed on many things but were at each other's throats over the minor differences. The ultimate difference between them was that Cor desired to continue balancing the power of the tribal council and senate, Donivaldus wanted only the senate and emperor to have power over the people.

  Cor stepped onto the senate floor only to be greeted by utter silence as the debates came to an end. It was his duty to moderate their demands, tell them what they can do and tell them what they shouldn’t. The conviction in Donivaldus’s voice intruded on the silenced and mocked “Do you suppose we should have a vote on cleaning the shit from the streets? Or will that be vetoed by our esteemed leader too?” The entire senate laughed and went back to their own personal debates. That slight did not sit well in Cor’s mind but he was held at ease knowing that they too would serve his purpose.

  The virtue of betrayal

  Donivaldus stood up from his seat, itched his head and continued to mock Cor “If our emperor Cor, wants to actually achieve something today then he should give us some real authority Instead of mocking our existence by allowing the tribal council, a group of inbred war mongers, to exist when democracy is held deep in the hearts of the people!” Another senator stepped up to talk “I appreciate the demands of Donivaldus but the people have more authority now than they ever did and this was thanklessly given by Cor!” The senator continued “Maybe taking our ideas from Donivaldus the slave hoarder isn’t the right course for the senate!”

  The senate quickly descended into chaos as the arguments heated up between old rivals. Cor stood for a few moments in silence, he removed the sword concealed under his robe; the glistening iron blade caught the eyes of everyone in the room. He threw the sword onto the senate floor the clang of the blade hitting the floor cleared the room of all noise and Cor began to talk “This is what fate awaits the great senate of Muroexelso! Not a tax rate that starves, not a levy that robs villages of their men and certainly not a lack of power to prevent it!”

  Cor continued in his speech “If the senate continues on its path, the path mockery. The tribal council will act on it! I have balanced the power of both for over sixty years without a war, you have the people and they have the soldiers. Unless I am given time to award power to either one then the civil war that follows will make its mind on a dictatorship!” The senate fell into a saddened silence as Cor stood before the many great minds of the senate.

  He concluded “This does not have to be, if any man has an issue that is truly of the people I will give you the right to vote on it, no more politics, no more speak of war, let us only speak on what can honestly aid the city and aid the people. Now who wants to speak” Donivaldus took to standing, he knew that Cor was right but believed that he alone couldn’t prevent it. Donivaldus declared “Now would be a great time to discuss the food shortage and the games this month”

 

  The virtue of betrayal

  The senate took to talking in peace, arguing back and forth about whether the fights of the arena should persist during a food shortage and the importance of both to the people. This argument continued for an hour before Cor finally chimed in with a solution “I will give the senate the right to maintain an emergency supply of food in the Merchants District to prevent this from happening in the future and as a solution for the here and now I will send a legionary convoy with supplies from an area with surplus food if the imperial office can afford it”

  Donivaldus and other senators were ecstatic at the proposition. Another senator spoke up “Lets vote on it then” and called out “All in favour raise your hand!” the room was filled with hands unanimous held for this agreement. He called out again “Does anyone disagree with this vote? “Not a single hand was raised although this was not usually the case with the senate; as the emperor did not this often intervene using the power of his station.

  The senate continued their ceaseless debating for hours, arguing over whether non-believers should be allowed to seek charity from the temples, whether free men should fight in the games and many temporary breaks from the subject matter to verbally assault each other's character and wives. This was the beauty of the senate, despite its arguments, conflict and it's attacked on its own senators it always had the people interests in its cold stone heart.

  Hours later and without an ounce of energy left Cor left the senate, allowing the senators to stand before the crowds waiting outside and announced to the public the solutions they had come to today. Cor walked away slowly to be greeted by Facimus who smiled at the emperor, asking Cor “if there was any news from the senate?”, Cor laughed quietly “The arena will now allow former criminals to fight wolves on a Saturday and the food shortage will not end the great games this month” Facimus smiled and with a small amount of sarcasm replied, “So the Empire will not fall this month?”

  The virtue of betrayal

  Cor spluttered in laughter “Maybe next month my boy, maybe next month” Facimus took the reins of the quadriga and signalled the other praetorians to follow, he inquired “Straight home then, sir?” Cor nodded while mounting the Chariot and the two took off into the calm air of an early evening, almost forgetting his place in this world as the cool air hit him. Cor looked forward to the great and fun parts of being
emperor following the Saturday that required he visit the senate and in the same moment felt a modest amount of dread for the coming weeks that would require many more visits.

  It was not the desire of Cor to constantly intervene with the senate, or even the counsel, even though it was the most appropriate thing to do considering how much each of these two ruling bodies hated each other. A dictator he would never be, not out of respect for the people but rather a lack of interest in ruling over everyone and especially ruling over their problems. After all, he only desired to be emperor in the first place to end a war that his former tribe, the Servi Sperat was fighting. The wheels of quadriga ran onto dirt and left clouds of dust to gather in the dim light of the stars.

  That lack of interest in politics, cornered by the fact that the Servi Sperat and its enemy no longer existed independently made Cor almost entirely miss the rest that his youth granted him, a kind of youthful rest that he would never experience again. The war between his tribe and the tribe Ellinka was the one that took his father from him, the one that he fought in and the one that ended with both peoples becoming part of the Ignissian Empire. To see aspects of the Ellinka still exist was a great pain to him. Although that pain was silenced when he realized how easily they could become one.

  In his darkest moment, he considered genocide and in his lightest considered how much they truly shared in common. More times than imaginable he considered the former in great detail only to come to his senses, reminding himself of the words that he spoke at the Summit of the first tribal council “Peace will not bring back our loved one, peace will not repair salted lands, peace will restore not health to those violated or cut down. But peace, in all its magnificence will allow us to begin anew, to start caring about those great crimes which we enact upon each other.” In that solemn thought he would dwell some days and without an end to his sadness, he would dwell there more often than most men would eat.