"The mighty rebel Constantine happened," Maxian said in a wry voice. "After the death of Diocletian the Empire remained divided for administrative purposes. Two separate Augustii could more effectively govern the vast state that had arisen and deal with the constant troubles that assailed it. For a time, this worked well, but in the East, where the General Constantius had succeeded loyal Maximian, trouble was brewing. While the West remained under the firm hand of Galerius, the adopted son of Diocletian, in the Asian provinces the son of Constantius was plotting to outdo his father." The Prince paused and drank from a brass wine cup set on the table.
"The elder Constantius lived only a year as Augustus. His son- a man of enormous energy, conviction, and military ability- was acclaimed as Emperor in the East by the Legions in Thrace and Macedonia. Galerius, the Western Emperor, protested this appointment, but Constantine was already moving against him."
"There was war," Abdmachus said, suddenly speaking. "Roman strove openly against Roman for the first time in four hundred years. How could this be? Because the Eastern Empire had already passed from under the aegis of the Oath. Though to a thing with mind and forethought the loss of half of the Empire- the richer and more populous half by far! — would seem a thing of dreadful aspect, to the Oath it knew only that Rome still maintained and that the Emperor on the throne still upheld the acts and usages of his father."
"Galerius sent his armies against Constantine," Maxian continued, " and attempted to overthrow the usurper, but the Eastern Legions threw back the West, soundly defeating them in a great battle at Thessalonika. The next year Galerius died of a terrible wasting disease. To my mind, looking back over the centuries, I think the curse removed him from the field of play. It may have been that Galerius was considering peace with the Eastern rebels. The evercrafty Constantine offered peace and proclaimed himself 'senior' Augustus. In Rome, Galerius' old friend and subordinate Licinus was proclaimed Emperor, but he was of no mood to be subordinate to a younger man.
"The war continued, but it was Constantine who felt the sting of defeat next. Despite outnumbering Licinus' army by three to one, his invasion of Italy was a disaster, and his fleet was scattered by a great storm off Tarentum. Thereafter there was an uneasy peace: other troubles and threats rose up to command the attention of the Emperors, and in time the two Empires came to live side by side."
"But," Alexandros said with a lilt in his voice, "the Eastern Empire was no longer under the sway of the Oath. True?"
"In part," Maxian replied, "vestiges of it remain- they still call themselves Romans and try to maintain the ancient traditions and honors. But you can see the change that centuries have wrought- their language is Greek now, and they no longer rule themselves as Rome did."
"But," Alexandros said again, his eyes bright, "they have placed themselves beyond the Oath by this?"
"Yes," Maxian said wearily, missing the look that passed between Gaius and Alexandros. "But the West is still its slave."
Maxian grunted a little, lifting a cylinder of carved marble from the floor up onto the tabletop. The Persian slaves had found an old burial urn for the stolen ashes. It seemed almost new, save for its archaic design and corrosion still clinging stubbornly to the bronze fittings.
"Here is what will be our keystone," Maxian said, turning the cylinder about. "These are the mortal remains of the first EmperorGaius Octavian- now better known as Augustus. It was he who first commanded the changes to the soldiers' Oath that gave rise to this curse. It is he, now, who will help us break it. Gaius Julius has been adamant in his belief that we cannot break the Oath without involving the current Emperor, my brother."
Gaius Julius leaned back on his couch, a half smile lurking on his thin lips.
Maxian nodded to him and raised up the cylinder. "Our dear Gaius believes," Maxian continued, "that only the death of my brother will free the Empire. He has a cruel and bloody mind, our Gaius, but he is not a sorcerer. I have, I believe, found another way to take the key from the lock, to bring down the Oath, without this murder:."
Krista pulled back the ears of the little black cat, making its yellow eyes into narrow slits and showing its fangs. The little cat shook its head, freeing its ears from her light touch. It yawned up at her, showing sharp white teeth. Despite this byplay with the little scamp, she was listening intently to Maxian's voice. There was hope in it, and certainty, and her heart veered toward believing in him again. Duty warred with the remnant of affection in her heart- once, she had believed in Maxian, perhaps even loved him as much as a common woman may love a prince. She knew he believed that he loved her, though that was such a fickle thing, she had put no credence in it. Many men had said they loved her- some had even said they would buy her from her mistress, the Duchess, and free her. They had lied.
Would they have made the offer, she wondered, if they had known she was in truth no slave?
Only this man, this Prince, had made her a real offer of freedom, though it had been in extremis at the edge of the world, preparing for battle against the Persian magi in their old, dead city. Then, that had counted heavily for her, that he would make the gesture when he desperately needed her at his back. But now? With Gaius Julius and the golden youth filling his ears with their thoughts, their desire, their plans, and schemes? She saw him less and less, His mind and mood had turned away from her and down darker paths. The inevitability of some action against the Emperor seemed to grow stronger and stronger.
And now duty wars against my heart, and the heart loses.
"My brother, friend Gaius," Maxian said, "is currently the keystone we seek. But he need not remain so. Here is an ancient law of the sorcerer's realm- that thing that owns the seeming of another thing may become that thing. A hair, taken from the head of a man, can be used- by this law of similarity- to affect the man himself. At this instant, the Augustus Galen is the crux of the Oath, but with this" he rubbed his hands over the top of the cylinder- "we can bring forth an older precedent. We can bring forth Augustus himself, and through him, strike at the Oath without touching my brother."
Alexandros made a sound, more than a snort of disbelief and less than outright laughter. Maxian turned his head, glaring at the youth, but Alexandros shook his head and showed his palms.
"Mummery! If you say it will work, perhaps it will, but what will you do if this substitution does not work? What will you do if, in the throes of battle, you find your knife at your brother's throat?"
Maxian's face darkened, and Krista tensed, seeing the imminent dissolution of the golden youth at hand. Her right hand clenched into a fist, and the smooth, cold tube of the spring-gun filled her palm. She rummaged the little cat with her left hand, making it squeak. Gaius Julius turned a little at the noise, and she caught his eye. She shook her head minutely, pinning his gaze, and the spring-gun eased out of her sleeve, focusing on him under the cover of the table. The old Roman raised his eyebrows and put a blank look on his face.
"Noble Macedonian," Maxian hissed, "I will not murder my brother. I know it was the common sport of your youth, but here, in my Rome, we will sustain the family that I love. Do you understand me?"
"Oh yes." Alexandros smirked, standing away from the table, his blue eyes hard with old knowledge, dearly bought in a bitter childhood. " You will send tens of thousands to their deaths to salve your conscience, where the death of one- even a dearly beloved one- would suffice. It is good you are not Emperor, for you have not the stomach for it."
"I will never be Emperor," Maxian grated, his left eyelid twitching in barely repressed fury. "My brother and his sons will found that line. What we do is for the Senate and the people, not for personal gain."