Chapter seventy

Ortia

 

Travelling back to the city had been straightforward. It was clear that the Portalians had retreated back to their stronghold to the north, and they met no patrols. They also made a good pace across the old main road in their imperial carriage.  

In many ways the journey had been too quick. They had come to no conclusion at all about what they might say to Marthian when they handed over the Emperor’s legal letters.  In fact they hadn’t even had the courage to talk about it among themselves. As far as Potentilla and Kath were concerned this was Viola’s business, while Viola craved their opinions as friends but couldn’t quite bring herself to ask them. So nothing was said.

Their return to the city, nineteen days after their departure, was greeted with great excitement and expectation, particularly when they had explained what they had achieved. Everyone in the city now knew that it was only a matter of time before the Emperor would come again and save them.

 

Viola went straight to Aurelian. This meeting was ostensibly to debrief him according to proper military etiquette, but in reality was to tell him first what was coming. She’d had to hurry to avoid an encounter with Marthian, something which she hoped to put off until she’d spoken to her commanding officer.

He was delighted to see her, but it seemed to Viola that he was more drawn and sullen that he had been when she had left.  She could guess quite easily why that was. She felt guilty about adding to his burden, but she really had no choice.

‘Captain!’ said Aurelian as she entered his office, ’you have made good time – it seems like only yesterday that you left’

Viola saluted him, but kept her feelings to herself for the time being.

‘I had a great deal of assistance along the way’ she said, ‘and that was something I wanted to ask first: what was the fate of the other troops that I led to the Wall? ’

‘Eight returned safely… but they bore news that you were trapped inside the Wall. I’m grateful that that does not appear to have been true’

Viola was relieved to hear that no other members of her squad had been killed. She made a mental note to thank them all personally as soon as she could.

‘I hear that you bring good news’ said Aurelian brightly, ‘from the Emperor, at last’

Viola sighed and stared at him.

‘Sir’ she said, ‘it depends on how you look at it…’

‘What do you mean, Captain?’ said Aurelian, concerned.

There wasn’t a moment when it occurred to Viola to mention that she had been promoted by the Emperor – in Ortia it seemed right that she should remain a captain and, in any case, she didn’t want to seem to be profiting by Marthian’s demotion.

‘Let me show you’

Viola lifted up the satchel that she had had with her for the whole journey back. She groped around inside it and pulled out the thick envelope intended for Marthian’s eyes only. She held it up so that her general could see it clearly.

‘This is from the Emperor’ explained Viola, rather redundantly.

‘Yes…’ said Aurelian, ‘and?’

‘These are Marthian’s orders – the one’s instructing her to stand down’

‘What?’ said Aurelian, astonished, but in his heart of hearts not entirely surprised.

‘So soon?’ he said

‘It’s true, sir – we’ve met her replacement – it’s some sallow career politician from Garandos, and he’s on his way here now, with the Emperor. As soon as they’ve defeated Portalis they’ll be here…’

Aurelian was lost for words. He stared at the envelope: Viola thought that it looked like he might just grab it from her and throw it into the fire. She knew that he wouldn’t really do it but she slipped it back into her satchel, just to be absolutely sure.

‘What can we do?’ asked Aurelian

‘What do you mean, sir?’

‘To help Marthian – there must be something that we can do, surely?’

Viola’s heart sank even further towards her boots. She wished that she had thought of something that they could do, during the days that she’d had to think about this, but she hadn’t.

‘I don’t think there is, general’ she said, her voice a low moan, ‘this is an order from the Emperor’

Aurelian clenched his fist. His face was red with stress and worry.

‘We could declare ourselves independent, like Amansk…’

Viola shook her head very slowly.     

‘No, we couldn’t – you know that we couldn’t, sir; it would break us apart’

‘Then we could refuse to obey…’

‘You mean rebel? Then we would be only a little better than Portalis and probably suffer the same fate’

‘But…’ said Aurelian, almost as if he were begging her.

‘I’ve thought about this a lot, sir, and there is no way out. We’ll have to give way and the Proconsul will have to stand down’

‘What will happen then?’

‘We will have to live with the new regime – you know that’

‘I will refuse to serve, captain, I will resign…’

‘I can’t comment on that, sir…’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s not my place’

Aurelian looked cross, very briefly and then his face softened back into sadness.

‘What’s the Emperor like?’

‘A military man, keen to make an impression…’ Viola faltered, ‘how can I say, sir? He’s the Emperor’

‘I know, I know…I shouldn’t have asked’

Viola was keen to move on to more practical matters.

‘Do you want me to tell the Proconsul or shall I pass on the letters to you, general?’

‘Which would you prefer, captain?’ asked Aurelian, warily.  It was clear that he would rather not have this burden.

‘I’m waiting for your orders, sir’ Viola said, wanting to do the job, but not wanting to seem like she felt that Aurelian couldn’t,‘ but let it be clear that I’m very willing to pass on the package to you if you feel that it is appropriate’

Aurelian sighed and his head bowed. She knew that for him this was a double defeat, both political and moral, but she also knew that he would have to get over it.

‘You do it, Viola’ he finally said, ‘I really don’t have the heart for it’

 

***

 

When Marthian saw Viola’s grim face she knew exactly what she had come for. Then she saw the package and her fears were fully confirmed. She put down the book she had been reading and turned to face her fate.

‘Hand it over then, Viola’ she said, ‘clearly I shouldn’t have asked you to hurry home so fast’

Viola passed over the big envelope and Marthian grasped it tentatively, as if it were hot or spiky.  She sat at the table and ripped open the paper. There were about ten different letters, each fixed with the imperial seal.

Marthian smiled weakly and then she gestured into the garden.

‘I’d like you to stay until I’ve gone through all this ‘she said, ‘I’m sure that I will have a large number of questions’

‘Would you like me to wait in the garden, ma’am?’ asked Viola

‘Yes’ replied Marthian, a little distractedly, ‘and while you’re out there you can see my new acquisition…’   

‘A new plant?’ asked Viola

‘Just go and see…’

Marthian looked out of the big double doors into the windy garden.

‘…and take my coat – it’s quite chilly out there’

Marthian spread her letters on the desk and opened the seal on the first one. Viola couldn’t bear to watch and so she put on Marthian’s coat and stepped out into the garden.

 

Viola pulled the coat around her: December in Ortia was rarely very cold – it was usually only in February that the biting frosts came – but something had whipped up a piercing wind on this particular day.  She went searching for some shelter, perhaps under the ornamental willow near the fountain.

As she approached the water feature she was surprised to see that someone had been doing some tidying up of beds and even a little pruning. Marthian’s gardeners had been redeployed to more pressing jobs in the city after the Whitecloak siege, so this was all a bit odd. Were the gardeners back?

A tall young man with white-blonde hair appeared from the other side of a hawthorn hedge, he was holding some shears. Viola’s jumped backwards and reached for her sword, which she had not had time to take off. She drew it in one graceful motion and prepared to defend herself.  

‘Barbarian!’ she yelped, pointing her weapon at the human, ‘put down your weapon, now!’ 

Erik, who could read Visneorian, but had never spoken it, was as startled as Viola. He dropped the shears, turned tail and ran back behind the hedge.

‘Speak not Visneorian good, nice soldier!’ he said, peering round the side of the hedge. ‘please not hurt Erik’ .

Viola recovered enough to realise that Marthian had played a little practical joke on her.  Whoever this was had been tidying up a hedge, not planning an ambush.

‘I’m sorry if I shocked you’ said Viola, in Ethian, re-sheathing her sword, ‘the Proconsul didn’t explain to me that you were here’

Erik was clearly delighted to see the sword put away. He ventured a little out into the space next to the hedge and mumbled something that Viola couldn’t hear.

‘Are you the Proconsul’s new gardener?’ asked Viola, uncertainly.

 Erik stared back at Viola and seemed to be wrestling with something mentally. Perhaps Ethian wasn’t his first language after all.

‘Gardener – well, not really’ he said eventually, ‘I do really like the garden though’

Viola murmured, ‘we all do’ but her mind wasn’t fully on horticulture.  She bowed slightly.

‘Let me introduce myself’ she said, sticking her hand out in what she thought to be best Ethian handshaking style, ‘I’m the proconsul’s intelligence officer, Captain Viola’

Viola’s hand was raised too high for Erik to shake it comfortably and so he misinterpreted the gesture. He put his arm out, mimicking her actions and the two sets of fingers met briefly. They both looked puzzled.   

‘I am Prince Erik’ he said, ‘and I’m just helping out in the garden for a bit’

Viola was completely lost. Who was Prince Erik? She didn’t recognise the name or the accent, she just knew that he didn’t sound anything like any of the three Ethians that she knew. She realised, however, that she had run out of enthusiasm for asking any more questions. For a few seconds they stood opposite each other, with no real idea what words to use next.

‘Would you like to see what I’ve done so far?’ asked Erik eagerly, discovering something that he was happy to say.  

Viola shrugged and then smiled. All these terrible things happening and here was a contented soul.  Maybe that was what you needed to do – have simple needs, just like Potentilla.

‘I’d be delighted to see your work’ said Viola, only half-ironically, and that’s what Erik did – he showed her everything that he had achieved, every manicured tree and every replanted shrub. Meanwhile, Marthian read her papers of dismissal through twice, very carefully.