Nivis, the first month of winter, was nearly finished, and the winter snow blanketed Lucium. The north province had seen snow a month or so prior, but the other provinces were seeing their first layers. Since the council Titus held with the noble houses of Lucium, many of the houses along the southern lands of Lucium increased their support in strengthening the borders, as well as nearly doubling the guards posted along the main roads. But, much to the king’s disappointment, many of the northern houses, like Houses Cibus and Avarus, seemed to remain defiant. It was a shame, because their support could’ve helped immensely for the less fortunate houses on the western border, like that of Nauta and Callidus. Perhaps it was their distance from the immediate action that allowed for Avarus and Cibus to remain so aloof.

  At least Lucium’s eastern neighbors weren’t causing issues for the time being. In fact, news circled across much of Lucium that Archduchess Sabina was leading talks with neighboring houses from Septentrio on potential alliances. It was certainly worth hoping that these allies could be counted on for support against the growing threat of rogue mages. Some, however, still offered sacrifices in the temple for the hope of Emporikos being invaded by the giants from Thalassa. That, of course, would be a wild daydream on the best of days; as the giants’ fleets looked more likely to invade the coasts of a Maleun, or perhaps the islands of Wald region.

  The lack of unity within Lucium was all quite troubling for Titus. Sabina’s ambitions were far more troubling, though. It almost seemed she had something to prove at the council.

  While Titus pondered Lucium’s woes in his chamber, he heard a knock at the door. “Come in.”

  The door creaked open, and in stepped his daughter.

  “What is it, my dear Olivia?”

  She hesitated for a moment, slightly surprised by him knowing it was her. “I wanted to talk about that council.”

  Though he just barely kept his cool externally; on the inside, he felt like screaming. As if he needed any more reminders about that. “What about the council, dear?”

  She deliberated for a moment, almost unable to find the right words. “It seems as if your grip over the north is slipping, father. Sabina seemed to outright disrespect both you and Cicero; yet she suffered no proper rebuke, aside from Cicero, and no official condemnation. She certainly hasn’t been punished in any way for it. If anything, it seems her support from the northern houses has only increased.”

  He looked down. The sting of his daughter’s words cut right through him. “The lack of true unity is indeed a tragedy. But I can’t simply act based on my feelings. I could run the risk of further dividing Lucium.”

  “I do wish the houses could all come together and do something more constructive than expostulate, and sow enmities between each other. Sabina ought to learn her place. Her ambitions are blinding her.”

  He turned and faced his daughter. “I know. She has become somewhat unruly in these councils over the past two years. Sometimes, I can’t help but think it to be a punishment from Amar for our people’s irreverence for her ceremonies and temples. There’s a growing number of nobles who take concubines in secret, and have fallen away from our traditions. But, I can tell that Sophia has rained down many blessings on Sabina.” He took a moment to look at a small statue of Sophia, which was situated on his desk. “She has a cause, a just cause at that, for concern. Our trade situation hangs in the balance. And I do put value in what she says. She’s been a very effective leader of the north.”

  Olivia wrinkled her nose at hearing such praises for Sabina. “How can you speak so highly of her when her actions teeter on sedition? She rules like a tyrant; I’ve heard the things which her vassals speak in whispers about her, none of them are favorable.”

  “Vassals always complain about something.”

  “Her late husband, may he find eternal rest, never had such rabble in all of his rule. Perhaps, she’s just trying to overshadow him; her ambitions have her looking for more glory every time the sun rises.”

  Titus raised his voice. “Do not speak so ill of the Archduchess. Such bitter hatred will only further the divide.” He went over to his chair to rest for a moment; his voice became raspy and quieter from the strain. He took a deep breath, and closed his eyes for a second. “Was there anything else you needed to talk about, darling?”

  She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, unsure whether or not to bring it up now. A minute of awkward silence filled the room until she finally spoke. “I’ve been having a dream of sorts; a recurring one, over the past two or three weeks. It almost seems more fitting to call it a nightmare.”

  “What is your dream about?”

  “I saw war. There was a great split in Lucium; provinces crumbling into petty conflicts among the houses. Out of it, I saw a woman sitting upon a most vile-looking beast; I think it may have been one of those dragons of western superstition.” Her eyes widened as she spoke. “She taunted me, and claimed that, in three months, she could destroy Lucium; and in a year, she could destroy the whole world.”

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  He waved his hand dismissively. “You’ve had that council on your mind too much. Of course you’d have nightmares about such things. I have the occasional nightmare about war, as well. It’s just your fears fueling bad dreams; nothing more.”

  “But there’s more, father.” She wiped sweat from her forehead. “In it, I saw a ray of hope the past two or three nights. There was a voice, one with an accent I didn’t recognize, but his voice was quite soothing; he told me of a great hero who would usher in a new era in Lucium.”

  He stroked his beard. “Did this mystery voice give any details about this ‘great hero’?”

  She nodded eagerly. “He told me that the man would cast out evil spirits, and bring to light everything that hid in darkness. He said to prepare the way for a man who arrives from the barren deserts; that he shall come as the whipping winds of a blizzard, and banish the wicked dragon from this world by the sword, and by fire.”

  Titus sat speechless. What an imagination on this girl. He contemplated her strange sayings, and wrote something down. “I’m not sure how much I would trust that dream voice. It seems like quite a story to tell to the little ones at the markets, but not something I would be too concerned over.”

  “But surely you don’t think such a dream so worthless, as to not even consider it, do you? How often are prophecies spoken to you in recurring dreams?”

  He sighed. “I don’t want to bother a Conjector with this.”

  “I’ve spoken with mother about this already, and she seems to think more of it. I promise, I will listen to what the Conjector has to say. If he says it’s nothing, then I will treat it as such. But only he can judge it as such.”

  Titus thought to object, but realized how futile it was. “If your mother seems to think there’s something to it, then go ahead. I’ll send word to the Conjector that you wish to see him.”

  She went over and hugged her father.

  He hugged her back, and gave her a rub on the back of her head. “Now, off you go.” He motioned for her to leave. “I have some important matters on my desk, which I must tend to right away.”

  She made her way to the door, curtsied, and shuffled down the hall.

  He shook his head. Why does she never close the door? He got up, and closed it before returning to his mail.

  In Lucullus’s home village, everyone went about their day as normal. The investigation into Decimus’s death was on hold since being delegated to the county court. Some of the townsfolk took to helping out on Lucullus’s farm in his absence. It wasn’t much work, since it was middle of winter; but they were fully compensated for it with many fresh meals.

  Tullius came out of the temple in the late afternoon, having just finished his prayers. He made his way to a quiet corner of the local inn, and ordered a drink. As he sat there, he thought it to be a mistake to return to the inn. All it did was remind him of the beginning of the end for his old friend. Though he tried not to think about it, the thoughts always crept into his mind somehow. It made him relish any fight he had with brigands on the outskirts of the village; at least with that, his mind never wandered to such a depressing state.

  Not long after, the elder who presided over Lucullus’s trial entered. Seeing Tullius sitting by himself, he strolled over, and pulled up a seat next to him. “Still broken up about the trial?”

  He took a gulp of mead. “I wish I could just forget about it. Seems like any quiet moment becomes misery these days. I used to love the quiet, but certainly not now.”

  “I understand. I wish I could’ve somehow delivered a different verdict for that trial. But my hands were tied. With the other elders in agreement, and other pressures, it was all I could do to keep my composure.”

  He slammed his mug on the table. “If he’d only listened to me, he would’ve been fine. The thing I regret more than anything was letting him do what he did. I could’ve stopped him from… from making a fool of himself. But I gave in; let him play the detective. Now he’s in the Avarus Wall because he couldn’t leave well enough alone; because I couldn’t say ‘no’.”

  The elder gave him a pat on the back. “Finding out who killed his friend, I think, meant the world to him. He was only trying to do what he thought was right.”

  Tullius shook his head. He began to raise his voice. “Now look where he is, Elder Maximian! Look where he is: locked away in those dreaded icy walls, forced to dig up iron for the rest of his years! I tried to keep him away from it. I tried. But it’s like arguing with a wall.”

  “Try not to be so loud.” He sighed. “I know he was quite imprudent in his actions, but surely there was another way to save him.”

  “And what would that be? Send him east until he gets slaughtered by some bandits in Kentro? Maybe send him to die of the heat in the Maleun deserts?”

  The elder got up from his seat. “I see you may need some time to yourself to think on this. I do hope that you’ll learn to be less harsh on him. Maybe one day you’ll see him again.”

  Tullius rolled his eyes. “In the next life, maybe. Perhaps he can throw a party when I arrive.”

  The scouts saluted Sabina as they entered her court. Everyone in the room looked at them with great wonder. Their dirty rags were an unusual sight at such hours in the main court.

  Sabina stood from her throne, and saluted them back. “I trust you have something important; something that can’t wait?”

  They nodded.

  She motioned for them to follow her, and all of them retreated back to the private court. Once the door was closed she began to speak again. “What news have you from the provinces?”

  The lead scout stepped forward. “Lady Sabina, we have confirmed that a village along the river in the realm of Ignatius has pledged full loyalty to us. It took some time to negotiate with the local lord, but he came around.”

  She furrowed her brow. “Just one little village?”

  “A crucial farming village, yes. It was also the site of another great victory a month or two ago.”

  “Ah yes, that one.”

  “There was a man there who was useful throughout our whole operation. Perhaps one who’s diplomacy could prove quite powerful in expanding our influence.”

  Her ears perked up. “Good enough to convince Duke Ignatius?”

  The scout nodded.

  “Keep an eye on him for the time being. I’m not quite ready to deal with Ignatius. My vassals, some of them, need a bit more convincing. Then I will deal with the other provinces.” She turned away from them. “If that is all, then you are dismissed.”

  The scouts bowed, and exited the chamber.