Chương 4: Chapter 1.4: You Too, Brutus

With each step down the corridor, the panic faded, replaced by more rational thoughts. Marcus is going to kill Brutus. It makes sense. The man is deeply loyal to Severin and is a warrior with few peers. As Favius pushed off a wall to round another corner and speed toward the entrance hall, he considered letting the affair run its course. He will lose Brutus, but—this entire thing could quickly devolve into a bloodbath. And what will happen if Marcus and Brutus kill each other?

Will I and my siblings be anything but a loose end? Suddenly, hot anger rose in his chest at the thoughts that felt alien to his childlike part. No. I'm not going to let them hurt Uncle Brutus. He shot through the dining hall, where only the looted altar and the wrecked dinner table remained. Sprinting the last dozen steps across the room, he ran through what to say. He had always found it idiotic how much unnecessary shit people said when trying to warn someone.

Brutus will handle this—all I have to do is give him the critical details. He settled on the words, pushed through the half-open door, and stumbled into the entrance hall. Nearly thirty people were bustling about. Lireni soldiers, corralled servants and ones Marcus had brought, and even disarmed household guards stood clustered in one corner of the room. Brutus was about to step out of the front door. Words sprang from Favius' mouth.

"Brutus, ambush! Two mages! Archers, poisoned arr—!" A rough hand clamped over his mouth. He was yanked back, and something cold and sharp cut into his throat. What? He only struggled for a brief second as he realized that someone was holding a sword to his throat. For a few frozen moments, the entire hall stilled. During that moment, Brutus took a single step forward, slammed shut the door, and brought down the bar, locking it from the inside.

Silence settled over the hall as soldiers and servants alike swiveled their heads between Brutus, Marcus, and the boy who had just thrown a live grenade onto the scene. Brutus casually began rolling his neck and stretching his arms as people began banging on the bronze-reinforced main door. When the powerful cultivator clapped his hands together, everyone flinched.

"Well, I can't say I'm surprised. But really, Marcus. Two mages to take me down? I thought better of you." Favius frowned, which caused another painful nick of the blade and made the rough, calloused hand of the Lireni soldier holding his mouth shut tighten on his face. Marcus gave a smile that attempted to be confident, but his body was taut as a string.

"Well, it almost worked, didn't it? But let's not be hasty. If you move, the boy—" Brutus chuckled, interrupting Marcus' monologue.

"Dies? Oh please, go ahead with that." He looked around the hall, staring at each of the Lireni soldiers. Then his eyes settled not on Favius, but on the man holding him.

"But Centurii, know that I recognize you—and know your family. Should you fail to kill me here, I will root your clan out by the stem. Everyone related by less than three degrees to you will die in agony. So go ahead. Cut that throat." The man tensed, and only then did Favius realize that blood was running down his neck. Marcus pressed his eyes shut and squeezed his temples. He looked first at Brutus, then at the Centurii. Favius' heart stopped. He's about to—order me killed. No. No, no, no.

With a sudden burst of strength, Favius opened his mouth and bit down on the fingers. The blade cut deeper into his neck as the soldier holding him winced, but not deep enough to hit anything major. But his mouth was free. He recalled the oaths, the rituals, and suddenly the child's understanding of this world's rules and the cunning inherent in the memories of the other world worked in unison for the first time.

"Brutus, your duty is to protect me. Not to kill my—" His eyes jumped over to Marcus.

"—father." He swallowed again, looking straight at Marcus.

"Father, are you really going to order your son's death?" For a brief moment, agony flashed over Marcus's face. Then he clenched his jaw. Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.

"There is no other choice." Meanwhile, the Centurii had again forced his hand over Favius' face, this time being much less gentle, and Favius was painfully aware of the blood staining his chest and tunic. Favius' heart sank as the Senator's words gave way to silence. But then Brutus hummed, almost casually.

"Your son," he said, as if talking about the weather, "does have a point. Maybe let him speak a little bit more. Wouldn't want to interrupt quality family time before I kill you." Marcus sighed, straightened, and turned to the Centurii.

"Let the boy talk." He looked back at Favius, his tone painfully gentle, as if he was just indulging a small child. Which is exactly what he is doing. I'm probably acting way too much like an adult right now. But then he noticed a flicker of what might be hope in the man's eyes.

"So. What do you suggest?" Favius took a deep breath and launched his gambit, painfully aware of the blade pressing against his windpipe.

"Brutus, swear a blood oath to protect me and my siblings. And forswear vengeance. Swear not to do any harm to Marcus or his allies. Swear that you will not seek vengeance for my father's death." For a second, everyone stared at him. Then Marcus' expression turned from pained resignation to thoughtful. He turned to Brutus.

"Would you be willing to swear such an oath?" Brutus chuckled.

"Would you have the integrity not to attempt to kill me once the next opportunity arises?" The two men studied each other, and things that Favius didn't quite understand passed between them. After an agonizing while, they exchanged nods. Both of them cut their hands and sealed the agreement with a bloody handshake alongside the proposed oath. His hand still bleeding, the axe casually at his side, Brutus walked over to Favius, who was still bleeding from the neck but no longer being held by the Centurii.

Favius' heart was still pounding, but a fraction of him dared to hope. Have I actually managed to fix it? Or is this just another prelude to more bloodshed? Brutus gave Favius a smile, which turned into a frown as he noticed the blood staining his tunic. Then he held out his axe. Favius stared dumbly at it for a second, then cut his hand and exchanged another bloody handshake with Brutus, who fell to his knees.

"I, Brutus Ovinius Kestrelo, swear to protect you, Favius Ovinius Loran, and your siblings with blade, blood, and wit." Favius lowered his head.

"I am honored by and accept your oath, Brutus Ovinius Kestrelo." He heard several people in the hall taking a deep breath, and some of the servants even dared moving again. Brutus rose from his knees. And suddenly the hand—the bloody hand that had just sworn two oaths—blurred toward the Centurii. Favius barely registered the movement. He only saw the man curled up on the ground, his grey, flat-featured, seal-like face a bloody ruin of mangled flesh and broken teeth. Screams erupted all around the room.

Blades were drawn, and soldiers stepped forward. But Brutus raised his hands and called out a single word.

"Peace! I merely fulfilled my oath to my Dominus." Marcus hissed, his voice several octaves higher than would have been dignified.

"You nearly killed him! You can't just—" But Brutus spun around, pointing his crimson hand at him.

"I can't just allow a fucking Grey Blood to nick the throat of my ward? Or do you think it is appropriate that your son," he hissed the word, "is treated that way?" Marcus ground his teeth and visibly swallowed several responses. Then he let out a breath and shook his head.

"Very well." He turned to another soldier.

"Decurii, take care of your Centurii." The man slammed his fist onto his chest plate, and soon several soldiers were fussing over their fallen captain. From there on, events moved quickly. Brutus remained by Favius' side, and soon the other siblings were collected. Urania was a sniffling wreck, Marius had curled up, and Lia was whimpering in the arms of the nursemaid.

There was a moment of brief tension when Brutus and the siblings left the mansion they had grown up in, leaving their family's home for the last time, and settled onto one of the wagons that were being filled with loot. A spike of anger rose in Favius at the sight of all the valuables being taken. But then again, he mostly felt tired and relieved. And exhausted, so deeply exhausted. The siblings huddled onto the wagon in a pile, Urania hugging him tightly and crying into his bloody tunic.

Brutus stood guard beside the wagon, glaring daggers at two people in particular. Favius glanced at them in the torchlight. Bronze-clad like the household guards, but their armor was elaborately carved with glittering patterns and studded with jewels. They both held staves—one topped with some sort of cup-like structure, the other topped with a woven bronze whip wrapped around the man's upper body. Mages. I should be excited about seeing real mages. But I just want to sleep. And they don't even have funny hats.

Soon the convoy settled into motion toward the city of Cindrath. As they came over a hill, Favius' eyes widened. The city and its suburbs were shadowy silhouettes lit by occasional orange firelight. But at the center of the city towered five pillars, lit by harsh bright light reminiscent of searchlights. The closest tower was made from white stone and accented with silver. A bright pillar of light emerging from its top underlit the distant clouds in the sky as if hunting for airplanes.

The next one was made of red stone and bedecked with bronze and burning braziers, topped with a large fire. Another pillar was golden and glittered in the distance with what must have been thousands of jewels. The final one looked almost strange compared to the ostentation of the others, overgrown with vines and crowned by a large tree. The central one was the tallest, probably standing over fifteen stories tall.

Each side—he could see two sides, one pointing toward the white pillar and the other toward the red pillar—mirrored the designs of those lesser ten-story monoliths.

"What is that?" murmured Favius, careful not to wake his sister, who had finally fallen asleep. Brutus gave him an odd look.

"It's just the Academy of the Magi. You've seen it before." Academy of the Magi? I should probably investigate that once I'm no longer so exhausted. Favius gave the alien monument in the middle of the shadowy city one last look before he leaned into Urania. Sleep took him, for hopefully the final time that day. But somewhere, deep in the dark behind his thoughts, something waited.