“Diomedes offered it to you?” she asks, skeptical.
“He did, backed by his mother and the Dragon Armada.”
Apollonius laughs heartily. “The Obsidians have attacked Ilium. The fools. A Sicilian Expedition worthy of Alcibiades. What ruinous ambition this Fá has. Do we have a picture of the devil?”
“The Republic might, but we don’t,” I say trying my best to mask the pain I’m in.
“Delicious. A mystery. But Flavinius was right. Better to slumber through the low affairs and save your vigor for the clarion call of worthier contests. The field of fame is Mars. As soon as Darrow slithers in, all the names will await our glittering spears.”
With his servants excluded from the meeting, Apollonius is reduced to combing his own hair. He looks awkward doing it, and tugs at a knot with a grimace. He must have grown bored of his inconvenient and ghastly bullet wound. It is covered with the first layers of a carver’s work.
Apollonius is not done. “Surely you lower yourself by journeying to that dismal shadowland to hunt mongoloids. Much remains unfinished here, Lysander.”
Julia watched Apollonius throughout his monologue with a look of weary tolerance.
“Shield or no shield, I believe I agree with Rath, though he does his best to lose the plot.” Julia fixes me with a banker’s gaze, tallying both my proposal and my infirmity. “How dire is the threat, truly? Even Fabii couldn’t crack Io, much less Sungrave or the Garter, and he had the Sword Armada.”
“It is dire enough to recall their whole fleet,” I say.
Her eyes flick to Rhone, who stands behind me. “Do you agree, Flavinius?” Rhone hesitates, and glances at me.
“You can answer,” I say.
“He already did with his eyes,” Julia says. “But he’s a loyal man. Don’t put him on the spot. The calamity this causes our campaign—”
“Will be felt whether I go with them or not,” I say. “We simply cannot take Mars without support from either House Grimmus or House Raa. If my condition is any indication, the former will never happen and we’re teetering on open war with Grimmus. That is a fact. We cannot stop Diomedes from leaving. Another fact. But if they go, their isolationist faction is champing at the bit to use our lack of participation as a pretext to end the alliance and not return.”
“I see the problem and the opportunity,” Julia says. “If we don’t bend, we set ourselves up to break. But what exactly do you have in mind?”
I take a deep breath and fight back the pains that wrack my gut.
“Houses Rath, Bellona, and your respective clients will maintain the siege of Mars and continue repairs to Phobos and ship production. House Lune and Cicero, with a few of his ships, will lend aid to the Rim. As my Lightbringer cannot match the speed of their armada, my Praetorians and I will go ahead on Diomedes’s or Dido’s ship. Cicero will follow with the Lightbringer, my house legions, and his own ships.” Anticipating their objections to the risk of my person, I quickly explain. “There is a high chance that the Rim will meet and destroy the Obsidian fleet before our ships even make it to Ilium. I don’t want to waste this opportunity by having our contribution dismissed as theater. If there is a battle, I will play some part in it so no one can say I did not help my allies.”
Julia frowns. “Votum, this unity madness has bitten you too?”
“Yes,” Cicero says. “I cost us the assault on Phobos. I know that since then my opinion has been taken very lightly—justifiably so. I apologize. I put my planet…my interests, ahead of this faction of ours. But I believe we have a moral obligation here. I believe we must disprove this theory that the Core has no honor. That is why I will volunteer my flagship and urge you all to contribute something to this venture. We should not allow civilization, even far flung, to be marauded by barbarians.”
Apollonius stands and prowls the room, combing his hair as he thinks.
“Lysander, I applaud your courage, but…be honest. Are you up to it?” Julia asks. “You can’t yet stand. The Lament is no idle matter—”
I put a hand out. “Rhone.” He is a little slow to help me up, but with his aid I gain my feet. “A Lune never stands without his guard,” I reply. “So it will be as it always was.”
Apollonius laughs and I know he’s thinking of all the glory he’ll take for himself when I’m gone. Julia rolls her eyes. “Well, since the Rain is called off, we need time to build our fleet here and over Venus. I’ll send Pallas with you.” She watches Apollonius hurl his razor thirty meters into the air, yawn, and catch it with his eyes closed. “Don’t die.”
* * *
—
Three hours after Diomedes left me in my bed, Rhone pushes my floating chair through the hangar toward the disembarking Raa army. The last of the Raa troops and engineers fall upward in the gravity column toward a vast aperture in the Dragon Song. Rhone looks like he’s walking to the gallows. A thousand of my best Praetorians follow behind us. I’d take more, but mobilizing the whole legion will take at least a day, and the Raa are very punctual.
“Dominus, I must reiterate my concern,” Rhone says. “Leaving Phobos will put your territory in jeopardy. You leave the door open for Atalantia to snatch your allies. Never mind the risks to your own life.”
“You speak as if staying here with Atalantia would not be a risk to my life,” I argue. “Tell me, Rhone, if we were sailing to protect Mercury, would you sing that same tune?” I ask.
“Mercury deserves our protection.”
“I know you don’t trust the Raa, and the grudge you hold for them. But we can’t build a future if we cling to the past.”
Rhone stops the chair. “Dominus. I beg you not to do this. Not only is it a waste of your time, it is an insult to those of the guard who died at Ilium. I have held my tongue, but I must use it now. This venture is beneath you.”
I search his hard eyes. “You really should have woken me. I know you’re sworn to guard my life, but I hoped you knew my heart as well.”
“Your heart, like your friends, may not always be wise.”
“Remember, you are my Dux not my keeper. I value your counsel, but you obey my will, and the matter is concluded.” I hold his gaze. My eyes ache as if they’ve been stabbed. The Lament roves through my body like a cat around a house.
“Yes, dominus.”
Diomedes waits for me with his mother just shy of the boarding troops. Neither looks pleased. Dido’s thick, dark-gold hair flows freely over her right shoulder. She spares me a meager smile that does not reach her eyes, and scans the Praetorians behind me. “Small change of plans. Potentially awkward, but not unnavigable.”
“Helios has taken imperium of both fleets,” Diomedes explains. “The Moon Lords are in a panic. Grandmother is punishing my mother for this war. When Helios discovered your intentions, he forbade you from traveling with my mother.”
“How did he find out?”
“I told him,” Diomedes says. “As was my duty.”
“My son. The stick in the mud. He mistakes stubbornness for wisdom, and loose lips for honesty,” Dido says. “But Helios may yet say yes. He gave you high praise for your performance at Phobos.”