“Araris?” she murmured.
“Look at Aquitaine’s box,” he murmured quietly. “Where is Lady Aquitaine?”
Isana blinked and looked more closely. Sure enough, High Lord Aquitainus Attis sat in his box without the familiar, stately figure of his wife Invidia at his side.
“Where could she be?” Isana murmured. “She would never miss something like this.”
“Perhaps now that an heir has appeared, they finally decided to kill one another,” murmured a wry, familiar voice. “Though if so, I lost money in the pool the Cursors had going as to the victor.”
Isana turned to find a short, slight man with sandy hair smiling at them from the row above the Placidan box, his elbows casually resting on the railing.
“Ehren,” Isana said, smiling. “What are you doing here? I thought you were going to Canea with my son.”
The young man’s expression grew sober, and Isana felt him close down, concealing his emotions-but not before she felt his flash of weary frustration, anger, and fear. “Duty called,” he replied, mustering up the effort for another smile as Aria returned to the box. “Ah, Lady Placida. I wonder if I could impose upon you for a seat during the First Lord’s address?”
Lady Placida glanced at Isana, lifting an eyebrow. “By all means, Sir Ehren. Please join us.”
Ehren inclined his head in thanks and swung his legs calmly over the railing, slipping down into the box with a rather cavalier disregard for the solemnity of the Senatorium. Isana had to make an effort to keep from smiling.
Ehren had barely been seated when a single trumpeter blew the fanfare of a Legion captain-and not the notes of the First Lord’s Processional. Murmurs rose through the Senatorium at once as those seated all rose to their feet together-the First Lord only employed that protocol in time of war.
Gaius Sextus, First Lord of Alera, entered as the last notes of the fanfare rang out, flanked by half a dozen Knights Ferrous in the crimson cloaks of the Crown Guard. A tall, powerfully built man, Gaius looked more like a man in his late prime than an octogenarian-except for his silver-white hair, which was, if Isana was not imagining it, even thinner and wispier than it had been the last time she had seen him, several months before.
The First Lord moved like a much younger man, descending the steps from the Senatorium’s entrance to the Senate floor in rapid strides. He passed between the boxes of Lords Phrygius and Antillus-both of which were empty of a High Lord. Lady Phrygia was present, though an elderly, one-eyed lord was evidently standing in for High Lord Antillus and bore the signet dagger of the House of Antillus on a sash across his sunken chest. The murmuring rose to a low tide of sound as Gaius descended to the floor.
“Citizens!” the First Lord said, raising his hands, as he took the Senate floor. His voice, enhanced by the furycraft of the building, rolled richly through the evening. “Citizens, please.”
The Speaker of the Senate-Isana wasn’t sure who it was this year, someone from Parcia, she thought-quickly took the podium. “Order! Order in the Senatorium!” His voice thundered through the enormous theater like a titan’s, quelling the voices of the assembled Citizenry. Isana had the brief, uncharitable thought that the man probably found it quite satisfying. Though upon reflection, how often did the opportunity to have both the justification and the means to shout down half the Citizenry of the Realm present itself? She could think of several days that she would have found it more than mildly satisfying, herself.
Once the noise had dwindled to a low murmur, the Speaker nodded, and said, “We welcome you to this emergency convocation of the Senate, convened at the request of the First Lord. I will now yield the floor to Gaius Sextus, First Lord of Alera, so that he may present information of key importance to the Realm before the august members of this assembly.”
Almost before he was finished speaking, Gaius had stepped up to the podium, confidently assuming the space the Speaker had been occupying a moment before. There was no sense of bluster or swagger in the movement, nor did the Speaker react with anything like chagrin-yet Gaius somehow managed simply to displace the man, the way a large dog will a far smaller one at the food dish, and did so as smoothly and naturally as if the entire world had been expressly ordered that way-and as a consequence, it was. Isana shook her head, simultaneously exasperated with the man’s sheer arrogance and admiring of his restraint. Gaius never used more of his considerable force of personality, will, or furycraft than he absolutely required.
Of course, he never let anything stand between him and what he deemed “required,” either. No matter how many innocent people it might kill.
Isana pressed her lips together and restrained her thoughts on the matter of the ending of Lord Kalarus and his rebellion-and his city and its inhabitants, and all the lands around it and everyone who lived in them. It was not the time to review once again Gaius Sextus’s actions, or to judge them as acts of war, or necessity or murder-or, most likely, all three.
“Citizens,” he began, his sonorous voice serious, sober. “I come to you tonight as no First Lord has for hundreds of years. I come to you to warn you. I come to you to call you to duty. And I come to you to ask you to go beyond all that duty requires.” He paused, to let the echoes of his voice roll through the darkening evening. “Alerans,” he murmured. “We are at war.”
CHAPTER 6
“Well of course we’re at war,” Amara murmured crossly to Bernard. “We’re practically always at war. There’s constant low-level conflict with the Canim, an ongoing conflict on the Shieldwall that’s been in progress for generations, the occasional argument with a horde of screaming Marat and their beasts…”
“Shhhhh, love,” Bernard said, patting her hand with his. They were fairly far up in the seating above the box of the High Lord of Riva, but Bernard hadn’t bothered establishing his own colors to reflect those of Riva’s. The green and brown of the Count of Calderon tended to fade into the landscape around his home-but among the scarlet-and-gold-clad Citizens of Riva, it had the opposite effect. That did not, Amara reflected, appear to disturb her husband.
“I just don’t see the point in playing up the drama of this,” Amara said, folding her arms. “He’s let the dramatic pause go on long enough.”
“It’s a large room,” Bernard said, glancing around. “Give him a moment. Can you see where Ehren’s gotten off to?”
“He’s sitting with your sister in Lady Placida’s box,” Amara said idly.
“Isana?” Bernard scowled. “Of course it was too much to ask for Gaius to leave her in peace.”
“Hush, pause over,” Amara said, squeezing Bernard’s hand.
“An enemy which has previously only been a theory, a vague concern, has become a very real, very present threat to the Realm,” Gaius continued. “The Vord have come to Alera.”
Amara felt Bernard’s body grow tense beside her.
“At the moment, it would appear that they landed and established themselves sometime late last summer, after the end of the Kalare Rebellion, in the wilderness region to the southwest of the city.”
“Good place for it,” Bernard rumbled.
Amara murmured her agreement. The area was an ideal place for the Vord to establish themselves and begin to spread. It was richly forested and thick with game, while simultaneously being almost empty of human inhabitants. It was, in fact, for that very reason that they had approached the city of Kalare through that region with the First Lord, when he had made his now-famous furyless trek to Kalare to unleash Kalus, the great fire fury beneath the mountains near the former city of Kalare, before the mad High Lord Kalarus could use it to take down as many people as possible with him when the Legions finally brought him to bay.