Acting proconsul Marthian was irritated to
find that she had had a request from the temple to go to talk to the new High
Priestess. The request had been conveyed by messenger to Campanula before
Marthian had even risen from bed, and it risked making another bad day
worse.
The city was awaiting its Emperor but
its inhabitants were weary. Throughout Ortia there was the hope that their
monarch would bring new blood, new resources, and a new sense of security. Only
a handful of them yet knew that he would also bring with him a new proconsul.
As for Marthian herself, she just hoped that he would come very soon and let
her escape from duties that now seemed more burdensome simply because they were
suddenly only temporary.
This meant that Marthian was
reluctant to do anything very proconsular, and the last thing that she wanted
was to have to resume her regular meetings with the High Priestess. That was an
honour that the next incumbent could embrace and he was welcome to it. However, she had received an invitation and
so she would have to go. Duty was duty, after all.
Marthian entered the temple area and sat on a
stone bench next to a small cascade. She
remembered, with sudden sadness, that this was where she often used to sit and
talk with Julia. Then she recalled how difficult those conversations could be,
and dreaded having to have yet another one, with a new High Priestess, who
might even be worse.
She looked up. A thin, very young,
priestess, frail but smiling, was waving to her.
‘Proconsul’ she said, ‘have you been
waiting long?’
Marthian stood up, temporarily taken
aback, and shook her head.
‘No – did the High Priestess want us
to meet inside the temple? If so, could you go and tell her that I’ll be there
very soon’
The priestess came closer and
Marthian’s stomach jumped. That was unmistakeably Julia’s toga – it shone with
a clear light, as if a lantern were burning underneath the cloth. Their first
meeting and she had already offended her – how could she not have seen the damn
robe?
‘No, we do not need to meet inside
the temple’ answered Aquilegia, ‘this place is lovely, even in winter’
It was a cold, clear day and Marthian
was wrapped in a heavy coat and scarf.
‘Won’t you be cold?’ she asked,
immediately realising that the High Priestess of the Lady of Ortia almost
certainly never got cold.
‘I’m sorry’ she said, instantly, ‘I
don’t know why I said that…’
Aquilegia came and sat next to her.
Marthian could never recall Julia’s robes appearing quite so bright.
‘Perhaps because you are nervous’
Aquilegia said quietly, taking her hand, ‘and because you are cold’
Marthian could think of nothing to
say to this, as both points were true.
‘I’m sorry that you are nervous,
proconsul; how can I put you at ease?’
Marthian struggled for something
useful to say; she failed to find it.
‘I’m so very sorry, High Priestess,’
gabbled Marthian, ‘I’ve never been very good at these things…’
‘What things? Do you mean conversations?’
asked Aquilegia, ‘you are the proconsul, so how can that be true?’
Marthian took a deep breath and
started again. She would try to forget everything that she had said so far and
hope for the best.
‘How is the Lady, High Priestess?’
Aquilegia’s expression remained exactly
the same. It was as if the conversation were flowing perfectly normally. This
was such a change from Julia and Marthian was trying to work out if she thought
it an improvement.
‘She is weak but gathering strength
slowly’
‘Good,’ said Marthian, ‘that is really
excellent news. I will take that message of hope back to the city’
Aquilegia smiled, with her mouth and
her eyes, and, for the first time Marthian noticed that her eyes had an unusual
pattern: they were mostly a standard Elven brown, but around the iris was a thin
rim of slate grey. She was shocked – she had seen this grey before – it was
unmistakeably the colour of Rem’s eyes.
Aquilegia was well aware that
Marthian was staring at her, but she seemed as unconcerned by this as she had
been by Marthian’s earlier gaucheness. She seemed to exist in some sort of
spiritual bubble; it was seriously disconcerting.
‘How is the city, proconsul?’
‘Falling apart, I’m afraid: the walls
are all but useless and the army is down to less than a quarter of its pre-war
strength. The hospitals and convalescent homes are full of the injured – and
only about half of them will ever see active service again’
‘I am sorry to hear that. But is it not true
that the Emperor will come soon to relieve you?’
Marthian wondered for a second how to
respond to this. She knew the answer almost immediately – she had to tell the
Lady the truth.
‘Yes – he is planning to relieve me – of my duty’
Aquilegia responded completely
blankly to this sour pun. She looked searchingly at Marthian in an attempt to
extract some meaning.
‘I’m sorry, proconsul, but I do not
completely understand you…’
‘To put it plainly – he is bringing
with him a new proconsul – an elf named Antonius. I am to step down and return
to ordinary civic life’
Aquilegia’s face still remained
unreadable, but she was silent for at least a minute. Marthian waited for her
next words with considerable interest.
‘That is…’ Aquilegia paused again,
‘an unexpected eventuality… I will have to pass that message on…as soon as
possible…’
‘Let’s let the pigeons see that cat’
thought Marthian, with some grim satisfaction.
Aquilegia looked briefly like her
bubble was about to burst, but she soon regained her rather ethereal composure.
‘Can I ask you not to respond to the
Emperor until we have spoken again?’
‘Well, no, you can’t, I’m afraid.
When the Emperor comes I will have no choice but to give up my office’
‘When do you think he will come?’
‘I have no idea – he is far away in
the west fighting the Portalian rebels. He could be here tomorrow or he could
be delayed by weeks’
‘Perhaps, then, we might hope he is
delayed for a little longer’ said Aquilegia absentmindedly.
Marthian was shocked, both by the
sentiment in the high priestesses words and by how readily she agreed with it.
‘Is the Lady not keen to see the
Emperor’s return?’
‘She has not said…’ Aquilegia
hesitated for a moment, weighing her words ‘…but she hasn’t really expressed
much enthusiasm for his return either’
Marthian couldn’t resist digging a
little deeper.
‘Do you know what she thinks of the
Emperor?’
‘She thinks that his rule is neither
excessively impressive nor extremely unjust, but it may not be extended for
much longer, anyway… ’
‘Is that a prophesy, high priestess?’
‘A better ruler is waiting…’
‘What do you mean by that, High
Priestess?’
Aquilegia’s smiled faded and she
looked as small and fragile as she had before they had spoken. For a moment the
Lady was not with them.
‘I’m not entirely sure’ she said,
shivering, ‘I think it may be, but I am can’t say for certain. I am newly
appointed and not everything is quite clear to me’
She let go of Marthian’s hand and
stood up. She hesitated for a second.
‘I must leave now. Is it acceptable
to embrace you in farewell? I do not know the correct form, I’m afraid, between
leader and priestess’
Marthian stood and hugged her without
hesitation. It seemed that despite their exalted positions both of them felt
weak and uncertain. And something in the Lady had changed – it was not clear what
the change presaged, but something was different. Marthian wasn’t sure whether
even Aquilegia knew yet exactly what that change implied.
The High Priestess broke free and
turned back towards the temple. After she had gone Marthian stood for a while
looking at where she had been standing, wondering about her. Eventually she
walked away, shaking her head. She wouldn’t have Aquilegia’s job for a million
elfrounds.
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