Chapter 227: The First Causalities of War

Climbing into the carriage, Isis pulled out the small handkerchief tucked into her sleeve and dabbed at the smudges of makeup on her cheek, clearing away the tears she had been forced to spill for Justinian’s latest guests. Looking at him, he reached under his own seat and pulled out a small mirror, chucking it on her lap before going back to his ledger. Looking at herself, she couldn’t help but hate her face.

The tear-stained cheeks, the deep bags that broke out from underneath her warped makeup, her white skin enhanced to make herself look sick, and the tired eyes she constantly had. Wiping away the last bits of makeup, she set the mirror aside; Justinian put his ledger away, having finished what he had done.

"I’m not sure if you care, but the war has started," Justinian said casually, interlocking his fingers and leaning back into the chair. "A trading convoy that was passing by Cras was attacked by their soldiers. I am sure they will try to deny it ever happened, but it doesn’t matter. This means plans have changed."

"Why?" Isis didn’t look up at him, earning a thin smile from Justinina. Leaning over, he grabbed her chin and carefully moved her head to force her to stare at him, before returning to the way he sat.

"Before, this was a call for war to end slavery. But now we are the victims of a brutal assault by savages of the grey city. Those attacked arrived in Danmor yesterday; that was why I couldn’t keep you company." Shaking his head, he rubbed his eyes, as if trying to mimic sadness. "A terrible tragedy. Only one of them managed to survive and bring back their companions to show what Cras had done."

"It doesn’t explain why things are changing for me. Don’t you still need me to gain the support of people who could fund it?" With a smile, he half-nodded.

"Not anymore. Your role for the backers of the war is no longer needed. You were a good piece to play for them, but it could only do so much for so many of them. With this, I can now target something of far more interest to them." Lifting a hand, he rubbed a finger and thumb together. "Now, you will be far more useful for the morale of the people. Unlike your homeland, the warrior culture of Oros doesn’t follow feudal responsibilities or whatever oaths you make. Money, purpose and reputation are all that matter. I can provide money, and reputation comes with battle." Clapping his hands together, he chuckled, "Purpose is your job, my dear."

"I thought I already gave it." Saying softly, Justinian shook his head.

"Your speech at the Colosseum roused the first call for war, but it must be reinforced. You will meet with the people who will march to war. Talk to them, laugh, cry, whatever is required to make them march." He leaned forward. "Whatever. Are we clear?" With trembling shoulders, she nodded and lowered her head, making Justinian lift it once more to look at him. "Eyes up. Now those unfortunate souls who were assaulted by Cras have been taken to our dear Evangelists. He is a brilliant orator, but it will lack the... personal feel to it if he speaks alone. You will join him."

Isis stayed silent for a moment, closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, trying to clear the exhaustion from her mind. "When?"

"Right now. We should arrive in ten minutes. So get yourself in the mindset, please." With a thin smile, he nodded in satisfaction and turned away. The ten minutes were slow, dragging on to feel like half an hour and upon arriving outside the large Pantheon, numerous worshipers flooded in; the soldiers of the Pantheon stood guard outside in their bright-coloured armour. Justinian climbed out first and, as he always did, held his hand out for Isis to take.

She couldn’t be sure if he had planned it or not, but her outfit was perfect for the sombre atmosphere the guests of the Pantheon had; her black outfit matching the rest of the people. Only Justinian was truly out of place, wearing light pink. Many turned to look at the two, with most recognising them. Whilst all looked at Justinian with fear and respect, the gazes for her were pitiful and understanding, as if they tried to live in horror; they all believed she had experienced it in Cras.

A squeeze of the hand made her look up at the man, his head leaning forward towards her ear. "Try not to be sick when you see the bodies. It is unsightly to do so in a place of worship." Isis’s eyes shook as they slowly walked forward, a crowd clearing for them, many richer men and women stopping Justinian to say a few words whilst others approached Isis, offering their respect and admiration.

Each word was sickening and undeserved, and Isis couldn’t stand it at all. Closing her eyes and taking a shaky breath, she blocked out the sound surrounding her until she stepped into the Pantheon. Opening her eyes, she saw Augustus standing on the elevated platform, before the statue of his god, the wheat and branding iron looming above him.

Just in front of him, a little lower, five coffins were laid out, all of them open. People walked past, those who could afford to do so, laying flowers or small jewels under them. The reactions from those who looked inside varied. Some didn’t show a change in emotion, seemingly unbothered by the sight. A few cried or yelped at the sight, with the occasional person rushing off and others covering their mouths. The one saving grace Isis could see was that the coffins were elevated just high enough so no children could look in.

Joining the long queue to see the coffins before they had to take their seat, her gaze moved towards Augustus. Despite the morbid atmosphere, it was impossible to remove the air of privilege that he carried himself with. Even in darker colours, he made no attempt to dim the luxury he wore. Numerous jewels dangled from his ears, all of them matching the dark colours, whilst his fingers each had a ring on them; once again, the jewels and metal matched the dark robe. Finally, every time he opened his mouth to speak to someone who approached, she could see the jewelled teeth he wore that matched his silver hair.

’I don’t understand.’ Staring at his face, Isis frowned. ’He would be far more handsome and far more approachable if he didn’t wear something so ridiculous in his mouth. What’s even the point?’ She may have disliked Augustus, but it didn’t mean she was blind to everything the man had going for himself. He was a brilliant speaker and a handsome man, but the fake jewelled teeth she’d always seen him wear in public confused her. They served no purpose other than to show he was rich and didn’t match his current outfit. When he preached normally, they could, but right now, it was too much.

Shaking her head clear, realising she was just distracting herself with meaningless thoughts, the queue shuffled forward until finally they arrived at the coffins. As if prepared, Justinian reached under his sleeve and pulled out two pressed red flowers, laying them on the floor. Isis ignored him and looked inside, covering her face in the process, taking a sharp breath before forgetting how to breathe.

The first was a woman, her body hacked to pieces and put back together inside the coffin to try and resemble a person, the lower half of her body covered in a blanket, obviously missing. Moving on, the sights didn’t get better. A man whose face was cut in half; another, much like the first woman, hacked apart, only this time half of their face covered in a golden mask, likely because that part wasn’t recovered. The next was another woman with a slit throat and nothing else. Finally, the last only showed a clear, almost perfectly fine head, but the rest of their body was covered in a blanket.

The sight was morbid, and she silently thanked whatever was done to them for making it so they didn’t have a smell, only able to imagine what it would have been like. "Lord Evangelist." Justinian climbed the steps and approached Augustus as he muttered a prayer. The silver-haired man didn’t look up instantly, finishing what he muttered, but when he did, he gave a small smile, knowing a wide one would be rude for such a setting.

"Justinian. Thank you for coming, although I can’t help but feel your outfit is unfit for such a day."

"Forgive me, my friend. You understand that I am busy. I have only come because I brought what you wanted." Augustus smiled and looked to Isis.

"It is fine; she is at least dressed properly. Please sit; I will begin the sermon when all who wish to have arrived." Smiling, he grabbed her hand. Isis nearly pulled away but stopped herself. "I shall speak first and call for you to join me. I will not tell you what to say, but make sure it is correct." Giving a nod to Justinian, he pulled her down to the seats at the front of the row, strangely empty, as if left for them.

Slowly, the building filled, men, women, and children paying their respects to the coffins before sitting or standing by the walls. Behind Augustus, clergy moved around, lighting candles, preparing the stage for him. By her side, she heard Justinian speaking to another guest, his conversation steering the person he spoke to into providing more obligation for the war, without offering much more himself.

"Girl." A whisper, incredibly quiet, spoke from behind. "Don’t turn." Before she could, the man ordered. "Hold your hand down, palm open." Isis did as told, unsure what was happening. A rough hand with a slip of paper touched her hand, and only when she pulled the slip of paper free did the man pull his hand away. "The Brotherhood wishes to speak."

Behind her, she heard a chair creak, and out of the corner of her eye she looked to Justinian, wondering if he heard anything.

"My friends." Augustus started with a sombre tone, his gaze heavy as he looked down at the coffins. The room went silent as they waited for him to speak. Augustus perfectly timed it, with attention on him at its peak: "We have been proven correct once more."