Chapter 13

"Take the gant back from the governor," Affron ordered Valleia. "Make sure they're all alive." He turned to me. "Are you all right, Larry?"

"Uh, I guess so. I'm a little weak. It was like before."

He nodded. "I'm sorry. I wasn't sure I was going to have to do that. But I think I had no choice."

"Do what?" Valleia asked. She had gone over to Decius and taken the gant from him.

"He's alive?" Affron said.

"Yes. But what—?"

"Check the soldiers."

She did as she was told. "They are still breathing," she reported. "Now, please tell me what happened. Is this your magic?"

Affron looked tired, resigned. "Yes," he said. "My magic. I thought it was important to show Decius just where the power lay here. He seemed to be under a misapprehension."

"You did this with your mind," Valleia said.

Affron nodded. "Did you feel anything?"

"No." She looked at me. "And you did?"

I nodded. "I don't know why," I said.

She came back and sat down next to us. "What will happen now?" she asked.

"Now we wait for them to come back to consciousness," Affron replied. "They should be all right. And then the conversation will continue."

So we sat there and waited in the heat. Finally Affron pointed to the bucket of water and said, "This is taking too long. Larry, let's see if we can wake up Decius."

I got the bucket and threw the water onto the governor's face. He groaned and opened his eyes. Then he sat up and wiped his face with the sleeve of his robe. He noticed the two soldiers on the floor. Then he felt for the gant. And then he looked at us.

"Call your men to come help those soldiers," Affron said. "Then let's find a more pleasant place to talk. It's hot here, and we need some lunch."

Decius hesitated, and then he got up, opened the door, and called out into the passageway. In a few moments more soldiers rushed in. He pointed to the bodies on the floor. "Take them away," he ordered. "And tell Iduma I need him."

The soldiers looked baffled, but they picked up their comrades and carried them out of the room.

"Will my men survive?" Decius asked Affron.

"Yes, they will be all right. I'm very sorry I had to do that to them, but otherwise they might have gotten upset when I did what I did to you."

"That was you? It felt like—"

"It felt like a horrifying madness had descended upon you. But yes, that was me. That is what you are facing, Decius—a mind that is also a weapon."

"Could you have killed me?"

"I believe that I could. Or, at least, I could have made that madness permanent. Which, really, would be worse than death—certainly worse than the kind of death that Valleia's weapon offers—instant, painless oblivion."

"And you can do this to anyone?"

Affron shrugged. "It seems so."

There was a knock on the door. Decius opened it, and a short fat man entered. He gave us a puzzled look, but said nothing. "Bring my carriage immediately," Decius ordered. "Have luncheon ready for the four of us in my peristyle. No one is to see us there. Understood?"

The fat man nodded. "Yes, Dominus." He scurried away, and Decius shut the door behind him.

The governor turned back to Affron. He rubbed his forehead; I bet he had a headache. "What is this power?" he asked. "Does it come from Via? Do others have it?"

"The power is mine alone, as far as I know," Affron replied. "As for Via... perhaps everything comes from Via. Perhaps nothing. I do not know."

"There is much that you do not know, apparently. You speak in riddles, like all the priests. What exactly do you want from me? What is the agreement you spoke of? Or is that a riddle too?"

"It is simple. We want you to help us take power from Tirelius. In return, we will improve the lives of your people and make you the most successful governor the Roman province has ever known."

"But why do you need my help? With your power—"

"There are limits to my power," Affron said. "There are limits to how we can use this weapon. We will need the support of your soldiers and your people to succeed."

"You have a plan?"

Affron nodded. "We have a plan."

The conversation was interrupted by another knock on the door. It was the fat man again. "Ready, Dominus," he said to Decius. We all rose and followed him through the tunnels to the plaza outside the Circus Maximus, where an ornate closed carriage pulled by two brown horses was waiting for us. "Inside," Decius instructed us. "Quickly."

We climbed inside along with Decius; Iduma shut the doors, and the carriage started up. The seats were comfortable; there was some kind of fruity scent in the air. The heat was unbearable. "No one should live in the city in the summer," Decius muttered.

We didn't respond. My stomach growled again.

Soon the carriage stopped. We were in an alley behind a large house on one of the fancy hills. We got out and went through a door in a long wall, and we found ourselves in a peristyle filled with fountains and flowering plants. I felt a slight breeze, for which I was very grateful. Decius excused himself to see about lunch.

"How do you think it's going?" Affron asked in English.

Valleia was staring at him. I realized that she was still trying to understand what he had done to Decius and his soldiers. Affron's "magic."

"He is terrified of you," she stated.

"Well, that's good, then."

"But you should have told me that you might do this."

"I'm sorry. But now it is done, and we must make the best of it."

"Do you think he knows where we live?" I asked. "He talked about coming to visit us if we didn't visit him."

"It's possible," Affron replied. "He is likely to have more spies on the streets than Tirelius. All the more reason to reach an agreement with him."

Decius returned in a few moments followed by Iduma, who was carrying a platter of food—fruit and cheese—and jugs of wine and water.

Iduma left, and we ate in silence for a couple of minutes. I had my first orange since arriving on Terra, and it tasted wonderful.

"Now," Decius said finally, "explain your plan."

Affron nodded to Valleia. She explained what we had gone over the night before: the plan to sneak into Urbis, seize the rest of the gants in the armamentarium, and take over Urbis—with the help of Roman soldiers.

Decius asked some questions, and finally he shook his head. "It's not good enough," he said.

"Why not?" Valleia demanded.

"I cannot simply order soldiers to do my will when it comes to Via," Decius explained. "The soldiers are ordinary people, and ordinary people might not like the priests, but they fear them. They must believe in their cause, and they must believe they can win. The people know nothing about Affron. He is just a name and a description posted on walls across the city. Someone who has apparently committed unspeakable crimes against Via."

Valleia looked annoyed. "What do you suggest, then?"

Decius pondered the question. "We must change the way people think about Affron," he replied. "Imagine demonstrations springing up against Tirelius, demanding improvements in the lives of Roman citizens. Imagine graffiti on every wall protesting Tirelius and praising Affron. Rumors sweep the city that Affron is being hunted down because he dared to stand up to Tirelius in favor of Roma. The rumors say that the Tirelius has lost favor with the gods and must be replaced."

"You can do this?" Valleia asked.

"Of course I can."

"Won't Tirelius find out and demand that you control your people?"

"Of course he will. I will try, but I can only do so much. I am unable to comply with his demands. The demonstrations are too large to suppress. We arrest the leaders, but more rise up in their place. As soon as we clean up one wall, new graffiti appear on a dozen others."

"I don't see how this helps," Valleia said. "Our plan relies on secrecy. What you are proposing may get the soldiers on our side, but it will also put Tirelius on alert—he will expect an attack and prepare for it."

"I think Decius has a different plan in mind," Affron said, pouring himself a cup of wine and drinking it down.

"Indeed," the governor murmured.

Valleia looked from one to the other. "And what is that plan?" she asked.

"What is the highlight of the Games?" Affron responded.

"The chariot race, of course," Valleia answered.

"And who is always at the race to crown the victor, in front of two hundred thousand cheering citizens?" Decius asked.

Valleia finally seemed to get it. "The pontifex," she whispered.

"Of course. It is the one time he appears in Roma, along with his vice pontifexes. And what if, at that very moment, the gods strike him dead?"

We fell silent, contemplating this idea.

Finally Decius continued. "Now the people are triumphant. Their prayers have been answered! Rumors sweep the city that Affron is still alive, that he will become the new pontifex. The people demand Affron. Affron's many supporters in Urbis are emboldened; opposition to him crumbles. He comes out of hiding, is acclaimed pontifex, and a new age dawns for Terra. No need to sneak into Urbis. No need to worry about the soldiers. No need to kill anyone—except Tirelius. And, I suppose, his cronies."

"Or, perhaps, I merely drive them mad," Affron said.

Decius shrugged. "Madness might be better," he replied. "The judgment of the gods would be even clearer."

"But what if Tirelius decides it is too dangerous to show up?" I asked.

He glanced at me darkly, as if wondering why I dared to speak to him. I realized he probably thought I was just a servant. "Tirelius will have to show up," he replied. "The pontifex always comes. To stay in Urbis would be an admission of weakness."

Valleia looked at Affron, who stared down at his wine cup. "I don't like it," she said.

"Why not?" Decius asked.

"It puts too much pressure on Affron."

"To do what he did back in that room to me and my soldiers? Was that difficult, Affron?"

Affron rubbed his chin. "No," he said finally. "No, it wasn't. I wish it were difficult."

"Can you do it in the stands at the end of the chariot race? Do you need to be close to Tirelius? Will the presence of tens of thousands of people bother you?"

He shook his head. "No, they shouldn't be a problem. Nothing should be a problem."

"If this is going to be difficult," Decius persisted, "we must discuss it now. Once we agree to this, once I set the plan in motion, you cannot fail me. I don't care what powers you possess. If you fail me, I will hunt you down and destroy you."

Affron raised his eyes from the wine cup and stared at Decius. And then he bowed ever so slightly. "We are all taking risks here," he said in reply. "I know what I can do. You have felt my power."

"Very well." Decius raised his wine cup to him. "So long as we know where we stand."

And then they started in on a long discussion of what exactly Decius wanted from Affron once he became pontifex. I didn't follow much of it, partly because the Latin got complicated, partly because I wasn't that interested. Affron didn't seem interested either, so Valleia did most of the talking for us. They discussed tax revenues, and medical care, and rebuilding the neighborhoods where the poor lived. They talked about improving the port and increasing grain shipments from Egypt. Decius became very animated when he brought up these issues; he really seemed to care. Valleia also cared, and the two of them seemed to agree on practically everything.

And as they talked, I realized that it was finally going to happen: Affron would defeat Tirelius and become the new pontifex, and I could return to Urbis and use the portal to go home. At last.

At some point I must have fallen asleep from the heat and the wine, because the next thing I knew Affron was standing over me and shaking me awake. "Time to go, Larry," he said. Valleia and Decius too were standing up. I got to my feet. It was twilight, and a couple of torches had been lit in the peristyle.

"Go out into the city as little as possible," he was warning them. "Tirelius will only search harder for you when he sees what is happening."

"We understand," Valleia replied.

"Very well. We will not see each other again until after it is done."

Affron bowed to him. "We will not disappoint," he said. And then we left the peristyle the way we had entered it, by the small door in the rear wall.

Outside, the carriage was gone from the alley.

We said little as we walked back to Parioli; Affron and Valleia both seemed tired. At the house, we were greeted with hugs. But Carmody was puzzled when Valleia described the new plan. "Do you think that can really work?" he asked.

"Yes, if Decius can do what he has promised."

"And Affron," Carmody pointed out.

"I have now seen what Affron can do with his magic," Valleia said. "And it is amazing. Three men, suddenly almost dead—simply through the power of his mind."

Carmody shook his head. "I don't understand it."

"You are a soldier, William. You understand a different kind of weapon. It will be fine."

"Many lives will be saved if we don't have to attack Urbis," Affron pointed out.

"And that is all to the good, of course," Carmody admitted. But he still didn't look convinced.

Palta wasn't convinced either, but she didn't say anything about the plan in front of the others. "I don't like it," she said to me later that night, when we were alone in my room.

"Why not?"

"This magic—Affron says he doesn't understand it. And I know that he doesn't like it. He is risking too much."

"What is he risking? I've seen him use his power twice. It tires him out a bit, and he doesn't like doing it. But I don't think he's risking anything."

"You just want to go home," Palta said. "You'll do anything to go home."

"That's not fair, I also don't want to be captured and then executed on that scaffold in the Urbis forum. We've got to do something."

Palta couldn't argue with that. So she just shrugged and went off to her room, and the next morning I woke up alone.