Kushiel's Scion - Jacqueline Carey [171]
I watched the courier's barge draw away, bound for Ostia, and thought how it would cheer them at home to hear from me. I could picture Phèdre in her salon, cracking the wax seal, smiling as she scanned my words, while Joscelin read over her shoulder and others in the household—Ti-Philippe, Hugues, Eugenie—waited impatiently for news.
It made me at once glad and lonely.
I missed them. I missed them a great deal. I would have given a lot to spend a single hour in Phèdre's company, pouring out my worries and petty concerns, listening to her counsel. I would have gladly endured any awkwardness or discomfort it entailed. But this was the path I had chosen, and I would have to find my way on it alone.
Squaring my shoulders, I went to attend Master Piero's class.
We were planning to meet that day in the Old Forum outside the University, but for once, the rostra was occupied. Two men stood upon it, speaking in turns. A throng of students milled in the square, some listening and a good many others gossiping excitedly.
I caught sight of Eamonn's bright head above the rest and made my way to him. "What passes?"
It was Lucius who answered. "That's the pontifex maximus," he said, indicating the taller of the two men. "He's denouncing Deccus' pantomime on the grounds that it diminishes the imperium of our noble city. The aedile who sanctioned its performance is defending it."
"What imperium?" one of the other students muttered.
Lucius shrugged. "The princeps of Tiberium doesn't care for the play. He suspects it is a Restorationist ploy to feed the fires of disrespect."
"Is it?" I asked, remembering how Deccus Fulvius had queried me.
"Who knows?" Lucius gave me a tight smile. "But my sister's husband has departed for his country villa. I understand he plans to entertain a select handful of senators this evening. Oh," he added, "and that old stick-in-the-arse Strozzi has announced his retirement from the University." He nodded at a handful of merry students. "That's his lot. They plan to go out and get vilely drunk in celebration. Do you want to join them? I plan to."
A cold finger of suspicion made me shiver. "Next time, mayhap."
Since we could not meet in the Forum, Master Piero herded us into the lecture hall. We held a distracted conversation on tyranny versus democracy and the rights of hereditary rule. From time to time, the word sedition floated up from the rostra below. Almost everyone was nervous at the conversation, even Master Piero. Only Brigitta and Eamonn held forth with assurance, unperturbed by the shadow of Tiberian politics. Both of them argued in favor of leadership by strength of arms and surety of purpose.
"Oh, what would you know about it?" Aulus sneered. "Barbarians!"
Color flared in Brigitta's cheeks. "What would you know?" she retorted. "Your Tiberian princeps cowers in his castle and wrings his hands over a pantomime! What else have they done in living memory? At least Skaldia produced a leader that made the world tremble!"
The hall grew quiet in the wake of her words. A few people glanced at me, wondering how I would react. I wasn't sure myself. Mercifully, Eamonn saved me the trouble.
"Yes," he said in a thoughtful tone. "Waldemar Selig was a powerful leader and sure in his purpose. But perhaps we should consider the nature of a ruler's purpose, and whether or not it is virtuous." He gazed at Brigitta. "I am named for my uncle, who died on the battlefield facing Waldemar Selig. He died bravely. I do not believe he trembled."
She looked away, biting her lip. "I did not mean to give offense."
"Enough," Master Piero said mildly. He favored all of us with a long, grave look. "We have all agreed to lay our personal quarrels and our national politics aside in the pursuit of truth. It seems we find it difficult today. Let us adjourn, and make a new attempt on the morrow. We will meet at the Fountain of the Chariot, and hope its rushing waters lead to cooler heads."
He dismissed us without