I, Dacien

A Story byOnyx Tao © 2014 Onyx Tao

I, Dacien by Onyx Tao is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 4.0 International License. Permissions beyond the scope of this license may be available at onyx-tao.sofurry.com.

Chapter Twenty-Four: Interlude V

---

Phrixus looked around the minotaur's pavilion, and tried not to grimace. Because he was a seasoned diplomat in addition to being Hierocles' brother-in-law, Phrixus was easily successful. He still wasn't sure if now-Emperor Hierocles had chosen him for the family connection (although Phrixus would have been much happier if he hadn't been so closely connected to the throne) or his previous experience as a legator, judicar, or even Senate herald. Both, possibly. He'd never been impressed with Hierocles, and certainly never expected the teenager's scrawny ass to pass gas on the Imperial Throne.

But Hierocles had done a surprisingly good job once he got there. The boy - young man - had immediately sent Thusian Legionnaires to arrest the most obviously corrupt Senators. Then, in a stroke of what Phrixus could only consider pure genius, had imprisoned them on the island of Calaisia - what had previously been old Emperor Caracalla's private and elaborate resort. There, he hosted the senators in very much the style they were accustomed to, and Phrixus wondered how long it would be until they realized that they were actually prisoners. They might know; they might not; in either case, Hierocles - the Emperor, Phrixus corrected himself mentally - had the Senate firmly under control at this point. Certainly, nobody could argue with how he was treating the suspended Senators.

Exactly why Hierocles had thought it was so important to deal with the minotaur barbarians, Phrixus had no idea, but a delegation had left for the Tassian River and the lands beyond almost immediately. Perhaps it was to get rid of some of the more difficult but not as corrupt Senators.

For whatever reason, the minotaurs had responded. They had sent a thick packet of letters directly to the Emperor, and Phrixus was one of eight advisers who'd been permitted to see them. They consisted of a blunt declaration of ownership of the Tassian River border and the lands beyond (which, although rude, was hardly surprising - the minotaurs had held that territory fanatically and Caracalla's losing nearly thirty thousand troops in his failed invasion attempt hadn't helped his hold on the throne at all); an invitation for a single plenipotentiary ambassador (empowered to negotiate directly for the Emperor himself), and, alarmingly, a complicated treaty about permissible warfare which the minotaur warlord - Teodor Lycaili - demanded they sign, banning magic, magecraft, and any sort of warfare beyond strength and skill-at-arms.

Ridiculous.

There had almost been a fight in the Emperor's study over that, until Clotho observed that the treaty appeared to be_pre-existing_ treaty among the various barbarian tribes, and that this Teodor wasn't ordering them to sign it so much as inviting them to join a coalition.

Still ridiculous, of course, but far less insulting.

Phrixus wished he could have convinced Hierocles to send Clotho with him, but the Emperor was short on trusted advisers. Instead, the original delegation (a bunch of idiots, really) were given other duties, and Emperor Hierocles had sent him instead, with his very own detachment of Thusian Legionnaires. Supposedly they were there to express the Emperor's trust and concern for him, but ... Commander-of-Thousands Maxentius clearly considered himself - and not Phrixus - the head of the delegation. That_might_ simply be that Maxentius considered himself in charge of the delegation, but ... the Commander-of-Thousands was also a close adviser to Emperor Heirocles. Indeed, there were rumors about the closeness of the two men, but Phrixus didn't know, and didn't want to know if the relationship was ... more than simply one of adviser. The point was that the Emperor wanted the raiding stopped, and the barbarians had - surprising the entire Court - consented to talk.

The Emperor had considered that worth pursuing, whatever ludicrous demands and odd customs might be involved. And the minotaurs had odd customs, indeed.Lord Chimes, apparently the master of protocol, had suggested that - for unspecified "mechanical reasons" - the Imperial Delegation wear a particularly bland shade of gray, and even included a silk fabric swatch of the right color.

Bland, ugly, depressing, and stultifying were among the nicer things that Phrixus could say about the gray. After a great deal of argument, the Emperor himself had decreed that the military would retain their usual colors, but the Ambassador and his party would wear ... the deadly gray, as Phrixus had taken to calling it mentally.

At least the pavilion and the various tents the barbarians had erected were ... nice, Phrixus had to admit, although_they_ weren't gray. Privately, he had to admit they were every bit as nice as the Empire might provide, and ... perhaps nicer, given that the Empire would have simply pitched the tents over grass. The barbarians had a nicely finished planked floor inside the main tent, and even the other, smaller tents (or at least the ones he'd seen). They'd set up something suspiciously like a semi-permanent military encampment on the far side of the Tassian River - what the minotaur referred to as Mog Ford.

But they didn't seem to have a huge force there; fifty minotaur who were soldiers, and perhaps five times that number of human slaves to tend the encampment (and, according to Commander-of-Thousands Maxenentius, were_not_ any kind of soldier). Phrixus and his delegation had arrived a week ago, and apparently the barbarian's main camp - Maze - was some three days distant. The warlord's delegation arrived tonight, but General Randolph - the minotaur warlord of the camp - had arranged a small welcoming feast. He'd invited the senior members of Phrixus' delegation - no more than ten Imperials, with one honor guard each - to the event in the main pavilion. He'd wanted to do it, he said, before the delegations met formally.

General Randolph had seemed remarkably uncomfortable with the suggestion, to the extent that Phrixus thought he could read minotaur body language, but ... he'd made it regardless.Puzzling.

There were ... a lot of minotaur. Apparently Warlord Teodor had come himself, and brought a small army with him. Phrixus and Maxentius had met a number of the soldiers stationed at Mog Ford (as the minotaur called it), and there were a lot of new ones, huge black and white monsters with a sprinkling of other colors - some softer yellows varying from a light ivory to an intense sun-gold. Many - mostly the new ones - were wearing clothes that ... looked they'd been dyed, or overdyed, with that_deadly gray_. It made the clothing look ... sickly, Phrixus thought with a frown. But at least the instruction, suggestion, invitation, or whatever it had been to wear that color hadn't been some weird barbarian joke.

"Your glass is ... nearly empty," a deep voice observed, and Phrixus turned to see a minotaur - small, compared to the huge black and white ones standing guard around the interior of the pavilion. Huge, compared to him. This one wore clothing entirely_deadly gray_, and ... apparently, had dyed his pelt that color as well. A human slave, garbed in a much simpler tunic and trousers of the same bland color followed him, and ... Phrixus stared at him for a moment. He was older than most of the human slaves Phrixus had seen - apparently the barbarians liked young humans - and his hair had gone - gray to almost the same deadly gray as his garments. "May I offer you another?"

What the minotaur handed him was huge stemmed glass with the strong minotaur wine he'd been avoiding for the evening. He'd watered his original portion down to half-strength, and then quarter-strength, as he realized the potency of the stuff, and quietly suggested that Maxentius see the other humans did, as well. He glanced at the deep purple wine with dismay, and then at the human, who seemed to be watching him ... strangely, not with the downcast eyes or half-avoidance he'd seen from other humans.Why did this one look so familiar ...

Still, the last thing he wanted to do was to turn down a friendly offer from one of the minotaur, especially one who must have come in with the warlord's group. "Thank you," Phrixus said, accepting the glass, and took a sip. It tasted - fresh, and bright, and complex, and ...

"This is no stronger than the watered wine you were drinking earlier," the minotaur said. "It is no part of my hope to make you drunken."

"Thank you ... Sir ..."

"My friends call me_Te_, and ..." he cocked his head thoughtfully. "I would invite you call me so. In the hope that, perhaps, we can manage some kind of amiable relationship - perhaps even friendship, if that is not too bold a thing a to say."

"I would be honored, Te," Phrixus said. "And, in that same bold hope, my friends call me Phix, and I would be doubly honored if you would address me so."Honor, his painfully short briefing had said, was an important word to minotaurs.

"I trust the honor will be mine," Te murmured quietly. "Although I fear many of those here would be ... disturbed to hear me say so."

"Might I inquire as to why?"

"I ... I might not be the best person to inquire on that particular point," the minotaur said thoughtfully. "I favor of discussing things, but ... that is a new thing for us, to talk with humans, and there is a great deal of skepticism that anything valuable could result. There's a great deal of animosity, I fear, over the mage-weapons."

"Mage-weapons?" asked Phrixus, as if he didn't know about the things.

"Yes," said Te. "Surely a discussion for tomorrow, or perhaps someone else in your delegation?"

"No doubt someone has the details," Phrixus said. "Still, tomorrow should be soon enough for such discussions?"

"It should, it should, my dear Phix, you are entirely right." The minotaur gave a half-bow. "Perhaps we could find some other topic. I'm afraid this business has been much on my mind lately."

"Well, we could discuss this lovely wine," Phrixus said.

"I don't drink that much wine," the minotaur apologized. "I'd hardly know what to say. We could discuss tea."

"Tea?"

"Various dried herbs seeped in hot water," the minotaur said. "Although that is something like explaining_wine_ as aged grape juice."

Phrixus chuckled, genuinely amused, and - without seeming to - peered closer at the human standing very quietly - almost defiantly - at the minotaur's side. There was_something_ familiar about him; he wished he could make out the man's face better ...

"I must admit that when we got, ah, Lord Chimes', I think, note about wearing this ... gray, I though he was jesting."

"Oh, did he take that seriously ..." and the minotaur fell silent. "I suppose he did ... it's not meant to be mysterious," the minotaur said. "Although no doubt it seemed so?"

"It did. Does the color have some special significance?"

"Washwater gray? No," the minotaur said briskly. "None at all. It's different matter, one entirely practical. Have you worked with mages?"

"Some," said Phrixus. "Very little."Especially since the last three Imperial mages vanished in Caracalla's stupid invasion.

"One of the mages in our delegation has a, ah, we call it a_signature_, that bleaches everything around him to this unpleasant gray drab. A leakage of magic, like a constant, ongoing spell that the mage has little control over. And so, if one brings one's ... colorful clothing to a conference ... one may well leave with much less colorful clothing. Nothing more than that."

"Oh," said Phrixus. "That ... that makes a great deal of sense. You work closely enough with him, I suppose, that ... you get bleached as well?"

"Ah ..." said the minotaur, as if caught in a momentary misstep. "I do hope you won't take this wrongly, but ... that mage would be_me_."

Phrixus' long experience kept him from stiffening. "Oh?"

"I am not here to work magic, although I may if it seems ... useful," the minotaur said quickly. "We do not_magic_ others without their consent. Although ..."

"Although?"

"I do not wish to offend ..." the minotaur ventured hesitantly.

"Not at all, Te. We're here to talk, after all. I will not take offense."

"I accept you at your word. Your delegation does not seem to be in what we would consider good health," the minotaur admitted. "I'm afraid there was considerable discussion of that, and ... we were not certain if bringing the matter up, or even offering to assist you, would be considered ... rude or intrusive. We do not wish to be rude or intrusive, but at the same time, I admit it distresses me to stand here and be aware of ... correctable issues. You yourself are, unless I am very wrong, in some small distress from your left leg." The minotaur gestured.

"I ..."This minotaur could read him that well? Phrixus smiled as he processed the realization.

"Again, I do not wish to offend ..."

"No," said Phrixus, swallowing. "It's an old wound, it bothers me when I stand too long."

"Exactly," the minotaur. "And ..." he looked around. "So many others have ... similar, obvious pains. And who is to say what deeper problems might lurk unseen, needing so little effort to correct?"

"And you could correct such a thing?"

"I?" and Te sounded a little surprised. "Well, I could help, but ... no, my gifts are only partially suited to such things, you would need someone like Lord Run or Lord Xevian as well, although Xe could do it on his own."

Minotaur mages work together, Phrixus realized. That ... that is not good.

"Te, that's a ... kind and generous offer, if I understand you correctly, but I suspect if we let mages work on us, there would be some doubt at Court as to whether we truly represented the Emperor."

"In other words, that we might influence or bend your minds," the gray minotaur said, somewhat regretfully. "I suppose. We, too, have a deep horror of such things, deserved or not. Then it is simply a reason for us to work to build a respect for the integrity of one another, yes?"

Phrixus nodded, and took another sip of the wine. "Yes, Te, that's certainly true. I do appreciate you giving me a sense of what kind of discussions we will have tomorrow." He pondered for a moment, and decided to go with his instincts. "I want them to go well."

"As do I," the gray minotaur said with a smile. "If you feel you cannot give me a ... similar sense of what might be ... difficult ... in our initial conversations, I quite understand."

"The raiding and the return of any survivors," Phrixus said. "Those are the Emperor's concerns."

"We will have to explore those topics tomorrow, yes," Te said. "I will ... air those questions with some others, before our formal introductions and statements." He took a deep breath. "I foresee a great many words in our futures."

Phrixus nodded. "Better words than swords."

"I think so," said Te, somehow giving the impression the feeling might not be widely shared. Which was ... also an interesting thought. "Still, you have given me ... a great deal to consider. And ... I must admit I did not approach you entirely because I had a second glass of wine and you appeared to need another glass."

"No?"

"No," said Te. "You were pointed out to me as being a senior member of the delegation."

"By?"

"A slave who recently entered my household," Te said, absently. "Typically we encourage slaves who have a ... prior life to set it behind them, but for whatever reason, he does not seem to have done that."

Phrixus had been staring at the slave standing behind Teodor after the second word.He should recognize this man, Phrixus thought.

"In any case, it is late, and I have had a long day," Te continued. "And I'm sure you have, as well... I understand some of the other tents have been opened and set aside for your delegation's use?"

"Yes, General Randolph and Warlord Teovance have been extremely welcoming."If you didn't take note of the restrictions on movement, or the minotaur warriors who discretely trailed all the humans, Phrixus didn't add.

"Good, good," said Te. "I invite you to use those spaces - I assure you, they are well-guarded and you need have no fear for your safety in them."

Or privacy, but all Phrixus said was as sincere a "Thank you. as he could manage, and added "I have no such fear, whatsoever."

"You," Te said, turning to the slave behind him. "Show Phix here to one of the private tents, would you? And bring yourself back when you're done."

"Yes, Master," the slave said.

He knew that voice. Nestor! Again, though, Phrixus didn't twitch at the realization. Nestor looked ... different. Better, if he could ignore the gray hair - no, the magically bleached hair, he realized.

"This way, Sir," Nestor said.

"Pardon me," Te said politely to Phrixus. "I'm afraid the slave is still ... learning," and he turned to Nestor. Still in that polite, almost disinterested voice, he said "All of the Emperor's delegation are_great lords_. Address them so."

"I beg your forgiveness, Master, and crave correction after I have seen to the comfort and direction of the Great Lord."

"I will assume you are ... corrected, and will remain so, and so, of course, you are forgiven," although Te's voice had an odd hint of warning to it.

"Great Lord, I beg your forgiveness, and if it pleases you, I can show you to a private tent," Nestor said, although Phrixus could hear the anger in Nestor's voice.

"Yes, ah, I forgive you, of course, and that would be ... very good. Lead on."

"Yes, Great Lord."

Most of the tension in Nestor's stride had vanished by the time they got to the smaller pavilion. Nestor held the curtain open for Phrixus to enter.

"Won't you come in?" Phrixus said.

"I beg your forgiveness, Great Lord, but was that a command?"

"Uh ... yes."

Nestor walked inside, and seemed to relax even further.

"Nestor, are you all right ..."

"How should I address you, Great Lord?"

"Phix, of course," Phrixus said. "Nestor?"

Nestor tapped his ears.

"We're being observed?"

"By order of the Patriarch, Phix, every human is watched every minute you're on this side of Mog Ford. He's not taking any chances on your safety." Nestor looked around, and collapsed - much less slave-like, Phrixus noticed - onto one of the large cushioned chairs.

"Are we in danger?"

"Fuck if I know," Nestor said. "I'm not sure he does. But he really wants these talks to work ..."

"Can you come back with me?"

"Back ... you mean over the river. Escape."

"Yes, of course. Disappear. You can't like ..."

"I could," Nestor said. "But it would ruin the talks."

Phrixus blinked. "What?"

"Imagine, for a moment, that every word out of your mouth was a sworn, absolute oath. That's about how serious they take_everything_. Te" - and Nestor visibly swallowed the next few words - "Te has extended a certain amount of trust, but ... if I don't do what he trusts me to do, I show that I, and all of us humans, are untrustworthy. And that would be unfortunate."

"Some humans_are_ untrustworthy," Phix pointed out. "Many."

"It's_really important_ that you not be one of them," Nestor said seriously. "I can't emphasize that enough. In your talks, if you lie to them, they'll just walk out. They won't insist you speak, but what you say has to be true. Oh, you can slant it however you like, they expect that, especially in a ... diplomatic situation. But a lie?" Nestor shook his head. "Not something they forgive. Te didn't tell you a lot of things, back there - important things - and no, I can't tell you either, he forbade it - but everything he told you was absolutely true."

"That's ..." Phrixus sat back. Obviously he'd need to talk to a couple of his advisers. "That's good information."

Nestor smiled tightly. "Te wants you to know."

"But he doesn't want us to know who he is, yet."

"No." Nestor thought for a moment. "I think he'd call it one of his_little jokes_," Nestor said. "He has a... peculiar sense of humor. It's better to just indulge him on it."

"Does he know who I am?"

Nestor shrugged. "I'm never sure what he knows and doesn't know. Did Hierocles make you the ambassador?"

Phrixus nodded.

"Good choice. I'd hoped, when I saw you ... good. I won't tell Te, by the way," and then Nestor grimaced. "Unless he asks. But I don't think he will ... he's not treating me quite like a real slave. They ... do something to humans."

"What?"

"I ..." and Nestor paused. "He went over what I could and couldn't tell you pretty carefully, but he didn't mention that either way."

"So you can tell me?" Prixus said.

"I think I better err on the side of caution," Nestor said. "There was an ... earlier negotiation, a parley, between my army and ... Te's clan. A soldier fired at him - I mean," and Nestor let out a sigh. "Oh, fuck. He fired at Te. Broke the parley." Nestor looked unhappy. "Pretty fucking embarrassing, and they didn't offer to parley again. They didn't have to. They_crushed_ us, Phix. There is no number of Legionnaires that can stand up to them. Not even with the firingsteel. Their magic is better than ours. Their soldiers are better than ours. We can't defeat them."

"I can see why you would say that," Phrixus said.

Nestor grimaced again. "I was there, Phix. Really. The only reason they haven't taken us over is that they don't want to. Yes, I know, I thought the firingsteel would even the odds ... but in practice, it didn't. And the proof is, here I am, a slave."

"What about the others."

Nestor shook his head. "Can't discuss that. I ... promised I wouldn't." Nestor tapped his ears again.

"Right," Phrixus nodded unwillingly. "I'll make your status part of the negotiations."

Nestor shook his head. "I thought you'd say that, but ... don't. This is too fucking important to mess up. You see, there are tens, maybe hundreds of minotaur clans, and as far as I can tell, we've only ever encountered_three_. Lycaili owns this territory, and they haven't let any other clans through to attack us."

"So Lycaili has been raiding us?"

Nestor shook his head again. "Te says not. Te says Lycaili's official policy is that our lands are off-limits."

"But ..."

"I know," said Nestor. "But Te says whoever's raided us_wasn't_ Clan Lycaili."

"He'd almost have to say that," Phrixus said thoughtfully.

"Ah, no. Remember what I said about truth? Accusing them of lying is ... well, I haven't found anything more offensive to them than that. You can say you can't believe them, that what they say doesn't accord with your understanding - you can say lots of things,but don't suggest they are lying." Nestor took a breath. "I made that mistake. I think ... Te is using me, obviously, to tell you things he wants you to know, and he planned that, but he nearly didn't, after that. It's ... almost like they're not very flexible about certain things." Nestor paused. "Anything. They like formal. And polite. Be very formal with them, and very polite."

"That sounds ... bad."

"I ... I don't have long. I don't know," Nestor said, "so I have to tell you the most important thing. You have to know what they're afraid of - what they will do nearly anything, I think to prevent."

"Yes?"

"Magical warfare, Phix. They're fucking_terrified_ of war-magic - and I think they're right. Thousands of years ago, a couple of clans - Xarbydis and Scylla - wiped each out. Xarbydis drowned all the Scyllan lands, and the Scyllans. And Scylla magically poisoned Xarbydis' lands. And ... they're still poisoned. Te arranged for me to see it," Nestor's voice dropped lower. "Hundreds of miles of poisoned land, with a spell that spreads poison into everything that walks there, next to a now-poisoned sea where Scylla was." Nestor's voice took on an added urgency. "Phix, I saw the wastelands. I saw the dead ocean. They said it was poison, they said it was still poison, they had to use magic to protect us even for the few hours we were there - and they used magic afterward, to cleanse us of any poison we'd picked up. Their magic is incredible - Te offered to heal you? Well, he - and Great Lord Green healed me." Nestor sat back. "I feel ... twenty years younger. Fantastic. But they said even their magic can't undo the magic poison of Scylla."

"And you believe them?" Phrixus said cautiously. Certainly, he knew Nestor, but ...

"I do," Nestor said. "And I hope you believe me."

"I ... I'm sure you're not trying to deceive me," Phrixus said. "But it sounds ..."

"There's more," Nestor said. "They sent a treaty, about not using magic in warfare, right?"

"Yes ..."

"They are terrified of what happened to Scylla and Xarbydis", Nestor said intensely. "Terrified. We used_magic_ in warfare. And right now, most of the minotaur clans want to invade and crush the Empire to make sure we never, never, never, use magic that way again."

Nestor's voice rose with his conviction. "That's what's at stake, Phix. As far as I can tell, it's_just_ Te and a few others who want to talk, and give us a chance to be civilized. The rest see us humans as ... as ... sheep, pretty much. And they see the Empire as hundreds of thousands of sheep. Up to this point, they just didn't care about us, Phix. Now, they're looking at us, and thinking, stampede.

"That's what's at stake here, Phix. The entire fucking Empire."