Germanous could not sleep for the whole night, though he clung to the cushion where the twin spears were laid once as if he was holding to dear life. A brief thought invaded his mind; should he send the lancer to kill Laurentius? Was the man a threat at all? Maybe he was not before, as he imagined, but after this night's events, maybe he had become. But, would the lancer agree? Is this not a part of his pledge for loyalty and help? He trusted the Celtic's abilities and then realized he knew not the limits of the long – haired man who never showed off, unlike the latter so that was not a fair situation to throw his idolized protector amidst. The blond hid his face with the cushion, warding off the awful thought away, nut because it was dreadful but because it was illogical. The ambassador was still insisting on staying and watching the aftermath and he was the real threat, if he was to stand up to him, then he needed both the lancer for the kill and the counselor for the arguments.
He was anxious of the coming morning, and the dawning rays did not disappoint his expectations. It was indeed a day to behold and be remembered.
"So, what are you planning to do now, Germanous?"
Caecilius started the meeting, as if he was the one in charge, neglecting the recent victory that gained the city's peace back. The governor replied slowly, as if the ambassador was a slow – witted man.
"Continue with the renovations, of course."
"With what exactly? All the city's supplies and money was spent on a single puny battle. That is how flourishing this city is under your great command!"
Germanous wanted to word his reply strongly, fusing it with venom but the point the ambassador had brought was fair, and even more, it was hiding yet another accusation that did not escape the blond's mind.
"What are you implying?"
For the first time, Germanous faced the man forcing himself on his own turf directly, no word plays or carefully contoured lines.
"I mean, no matter how much a miserable poor Roman state this city is, it cannot be depleted that easily!"
"And?"
"Everyone knows of your uncontrolled lavish eccentricities, some barely starting renovations, few chases and one battle cannot deplete an entire province!"
Stealing and embezzlement, now Germanous was facing these accusations and he had nothing to defend himself with, because he did not care to pay attention to finical issues. At the latter's lack of retort or response, the ambassador grinned widely like a cat's ally, motioning at one of his followers to present some papers and Germanous' heart fell between his knees.
"You cannot just impose yourself on every department in this city!"
Before knowing what the papers were or what they contained, the blond exclaimed like a guilty person rushing to prove his innocence, but Caecilius was right once again.
"I came here to investigate the state of this city and province, I have the right to get my hands on anything I deem worrying and unfit!"
The papers, detailing Germanous' erratic spending, circled among the counselors, finally reaching Laurentius hands. This is when the ambassador's face suddenly fell into transient dismay but then he regained his confidence for a few more moments while the long – haired man was flipping through the papers, his eyes conveying no interest and no lack of it at the same time.
Oh how Germanous wished at that moment for Diarmuid to appear and lance everyone at this cursed room that was supposed to externalize his glory and fame, instead of turning into a swamp of moving sand pulling him down, slowly, painfully, time after time, piece by piece.
"These are forged papers."
"What?! How dare you!"
Caecilius yelled, rising from his seat and pointing at the unnerved man.
"You may have won that battle against mere thugs, and it is nothing to be proud about! They were rebellious trash but to attempt to deface me like that…"
"My soldiers and Late Lieutenant Plinius were the ones who won that battle against the tricks and unfairness of said thugs and trash. You only sully our soldiers' deed by saying that."
The ambassador fumed with anger as the counselor went on, slightly raising his eyebrow in questioning.
"And I see you have a habit of doing that."
Truly, no feud is ever forgotten. Even this seemingly calm self – isolated person held to grudges. However, as Germanous and everyone else noted, he did not hold to personal insults, he only retaliated the ones defaming the honor of soldiers and citizens.
"And what makes you assume they are forged?"
Caecilius sat down again, asking as if holding the man on trial, but Laurentius simply answered as he waved to another counselor.
"Because I have the true reports here."
The counselor who presented these reports seemed reluctant to disprove the ambassador, not out of respect, but because he was one of the many who did not fancy the current governor but still, he moved like a marionette compelled by the counselor – warrior commands and his pious dutifulness.
The ambassador flipped through the papers erratically, there was indeed some extra unneeded expenses but enough to turn the accused into a criminal.
"And how can I tell these are not forged, since you seem an expert?"
"Because these are extracted from the department of finance directly bearing its seal, the one you forgot in your haste to replicate, or perhaps the forger did not have the necessary tools or experience."
"You impudent…"
The rest of the room compared the tow reports, and the counselor seemed to be winning the round. Caecilius was sweating like he was stranded on a deserted island. He had copied the seal but someone has removed it… but who and why?
"You are a mere counselor, your obligation is to state your non - mattering opinions and advice, and train soldiers at your spare time out of respect to your previous rank… why do you have access to everything?"
"I am a mere counselor indeed, and my duty compels me to oversee everything so I can state my non – mattering opinions and advice wisely and without bias."
There was no response capable of refuting this argument, any answer would rebound badly at the one presenting it. But the counselor was not finished, taking more papers looking like letters, sealed with the ambassador's seal, he presented them to the man himself who paled upon seeing his seal. He had not sealed these correspondences! He was not a fool!
Someone was playing him, and it was not Laurentius. He was not capable of deceit, his soul was not touched by it, even a vile man like the ambassador could confess to this. And the fear and turmoil the governor was currently going through, proved it was not his doing either, as he was as surprised as everyone else in the hall.
There was a third party playing everyone, but who was it and to what benefit?
The letters finally reached the governor's hands; there was no denying it, Caecilius, the esteemed convoy from Rome, was contacting the "Justice Pallbearers" urging them to move faster toward the governor's demise. These exchanges were probably made before the execution parade, whose purpose was now clear, a revenge at not heading his words which he was now facing his consequences of for the second time, less gruesomely but not less ruthlessly.
"Do you confess to being in cahoots with those traitors?"
The same question he had asked his niece, was now directed at the ambassador with the same sternness and composed anger.
"I confess to nothing! This is a foul play!! Someone…"
"Save your words for your trial by the emperor. The soldiers who came from Rome will return you, sadly, as their prisoner."
Laurentius spoke as if he was relaying the words of gods, a messenger chosen by the untouchables, presenting one last letter with the emperor's directions and orders, thus ending the session.
"You are the devil! Not that brat!!!"
Caecilius whispered, trembling from rage and shock, his body steps away from having a heart attack or complete loss of control over his nerves and muscles but the counselor calmly explained.
"No one is a devil here, and no one is pure either. That is why justice exits and the battle you have just ridiculed is a certain proof."
***
Caecilius was not a man who played tricks when it came to his job, he performed flawlessly and justly. Sure, he was not a perfect man but certainly not a person who anyone would presume such a disgracing fate would befall him. No one would believe or think the man would meet such a miserable end, muddied and shamed. When he first arrived at this city, he was unimpressed and knew many things had to be changed and he was willing to put his hand in the governor's if he estimated the latter to be deserving. And at the first meetings, witnessing the efforts the boy was undertaking to flourish the half – dead, half – forgotten city, he did not have a problem with Germanous and was keen on giving him a chance despite the rumors. If the lad proved himself, then he was ready to support him. But that city, and those alluring yet horrific red – brown eyes stirred something animalistic inside of him. The rise of the "Justice Pallbearers" was in nobody's favor, and the two, the ambassador and the governor tried to work together but competition arose suddenly, brewed by those oddly colored irises. He could not let a mere boy of seventeen take control of things, the sole thing he detested more than anything while he was present and involved, and the same thing the young governor was thirsty for, clutching to it with his feral gazes and sharp hidden claws and soon the competition took priority over what was the most important; the safety and well – being of the citizens. Germanous started playing tricks, though not perfect enough to go unseen by the much older man's experience. But instead of correcting the lad, he played along, thinking his foe was immature and naïve. Aside from Laurentius's neutral intervention, that was for the sole purpose of saving the city, he underestimated the blond lad, and found himself dragged for the first time through his years of faithful service into resorting into the same tricks, aiming to defame and drag the latter's name down only to find his own taking that place. That bastard blond had an aura around him that could not be understood by normal minds, that stirred their envy, though lacking reasons, and forged a will bent on destroying whatever fragrance of dreams and visions that aura perfumed with. It was not a sweet scent yet not that threatening either. But all what Caecilius could tell, that it was not safe and should not be let out of control. These ideas were felt slightly in his gut, and were fueled during his sole meeting with that no less cursed woman than her cousin. Both enticing the worst in any man, the woman in the most logical and evidence – based way, and the boy with his mere existence and defiant arrogance.
When did he become a fool to be played by two siblings, rivals for something no one could put a clear sign or name at? And who paid the price in the most shaming and ugliest way?
Him. The senior who was hailed and respected, feared and revered.
He was now taken back to Rome a prisoner, accused of the most honor – wounding crime; treason.
Who played him? Was it the boy or the woman? Or was it a third party? Was it Plinius ghost? No, he could not succumb to madness yet, though it was certain to come eventually whether in the shape of despair, pity, death… he will not survive this play, the one he thought he was controlling until he turned out to be a mere pawn, disposed of when proven useless.
Caecilius fell, Sabina remained silent, Laurentius did his duty, and Germanous was humming a cheerful tune.
***
Germanous walked down the corridors of his palace, his sight shrouded by the daze of disbelief. He had not realized that fate had favored him once again with Laurentius's presence. But fate did not mold the man to be his alley, he was the justice pawn, and thus he moved more freely than anyone could. Bound by no regrets or second thoughts, no hesitations or overthinking. The lines were clear for him, and the day he, Germanous, would make a grave mistake, he was ought to be faced and judged by the same man who saved him today, not out of love, not out of blood – bonds, but out of duty and equity.
If he had to tread carefully around the fallen ambassador, then he had to walk on his toes around Laurentius.
Still, the joy of getting rid of the ambassador in the ugliest way imaginable, the same one he tried to orchestrate falsely, only to have his uncle and counselor carry on fairly was some enjoyable twist of fate. He felt that his hands had remained clean although his mind was euphoric, in a sadistic ecstasy at a man's, a human like himself, terrible downfall that raised him higher and higher.
A man at this age can only rise from the ashes of others.
Fate favors the unique, the chosen, and if this morning had proved anything, then it proved these non-disputable facts.