Wheels creaked amidst the clopping hooves.
Bucero woke up and found himself tucked into a makeshift bed in what appeared to be the back of a trundling wagon. The velvet duvet felt toasty on his cheeks, and the feather pillow rustled softly when he moved his head.
Dracus was looking languidly out of the wagon window, one knee held against his chest. He had changed into a clean tunic, his ringlets tied to a bun on the crown of his head. He threw a glance over his shoulder.
"Welcome back," the boy said with a crooked smile.
"How long have I been out?" Bucero levered himself up, his head banging. He dropped on the pillow again and shut his eyes. His vision, however, wouldn't go away. Everything he was able to see, he saw behind his closed lids in gold beams. He felt dizzy. "What the hell happened? Where are we?"
"You went out after Hectius hit you broadside in the head, and we're on our way to Pethens, traveling with Lorenzo Legidus."
Bucero opened his eyes. Readjusting to the light, he stared at the wobbling cedar roof. They were at the Port, he remembered, making a scene. While Dracus was squirming in the dirt, he begged for mercy from onlookers. "So, did it actually work? Lorenzo the miser actually saw us, I mean you?"
Dracus hushed him, "Have I not told you who we're traveling with?"
"Sorry."
"With hindsight," Dracus vaulted from the windowsill and sat on the floor facing Bucero. "I think it's quite fortunate we ran into Lorenzo instead of Romulus."
"How so?"
"Remember I said the woods were the jurisdiction shared by the Gaius and the Scipios?" The boy shrugged, quirking his lips. "What we saw earlier, Romulus must know, at least parts of it."
Bucero huffed a long sigh. The droning in his head grew louder. He closed his eyes again.
The boy continued. "When Hectius agreed to sell us to the Scipios, we both thought that was because the Scipios were the highest bidder. But that's not all the reason. The Scipios were also his safest bet. If we started talking about what went on in the woods, the Scipios sure would kill us."
Lying flat on his back while memory slowly came back to him, Bucero shook his head on the pillow. "But if we started talking," he said. "Wouldn't it blow the lid off how he had botched up his job as the guard? Wasn't it why he had tossed away his armor and torn out the ensign?"
"I think he planned to sell us at the highest price possible, then make a run for it."
"I'm still surprised he didn't kill the soldiers at the hypocaust."
"Well, if his goal is to get the gold and run, time must be his priority. He didn't have the time to take care of the bodies, so he left them to the soldiers. But once he's done with us, he might return and kill the two. He tore out the ensign and threw away his armor because he didn't want Romulus to raise questions, where he served, which legion, or who's his commander. That's my guess."
Bucero slowly opened his eyes. "So, what happened to Hectius? Have you told anyone about the woods?"
Dracus hopped up from the floor and flopped down next to him on the makeshift bed that creaked meekly in chorus with the groaning wheels. "Now we're getting to the fun part. Are you ready for it?" he asked, an impish smile tilting his lips.
"Gods blight, we still haven't got to the fun part?" Bucero jested. "How about you just let me sleep and wake me up when it's all over, eh?"
The boy slapped his arm. "I'm serious!"
"What makes you think I'm not?"
"Don't you want to know how we're saved?" The boy puckered his face, his round, sapphire eyes narrowing into the shape of the crescent moon. For a brief moment, Bucero remembered he was only sixteen.
"Fine," he relented.
The puckered face smoothed into a broader grin. "Let's begin with Lorenzo," Dracus rubbed his hands, readying a fusillade of words that must have been lodging in his head for some time. "When Hectius knocked you out unconscious, Lorenzo's bodyguard swooped down and brought him to heel with just one sucker punch," the boy enthused, swinging his arms in what seemed to be an imitation.
"The blond guy?"
"The blond guy. Moon Xeator was his name. Anyway, once I saw Lorenzo in the crowd, I yelped at him. He didn't recognize me forthwith. Reasonable. Given how shit you looked, I assumed I wasn't faring much better either. To convince him, I started spilling the secret he told me a few years ago."
"L-Lorenzo, Lorenzo of House Legidus told you se-secret?"
"Don't repeat what I've just said." The boy cocked a brow. "Anyway," he continued, "the plan worked, and he recognized me. Naturally, he wanted to execute Hectius on the spot. But I stopped him, well, his bodyguard, to be more exact. I told him Mother would love to hear what he did to me. So, Hectius is traveling with us now, trussed up on a horse with a sack over his head. But," he paused for a scoff, "Mother will not learn about this. I'll let him fester in my own dungeon."
Bucero lifted himself on his elbows despite his spinning head. While it wasn't the first time he dabbled in the thought of the boy's birth, he held his breath and let the implications of it truly sank in.
"You have a dungeon?"
"That's all you got from what I've said?" The boy cocked an eye. Then, puffing his cheeks for a sigh, he continued, "I didn't tell Lorenzo what happened in the woods though."
"And why not?"
"Finally a good question, Bucero." His sardonic smile returned, and he seemed once again incongruous with his age. "Has Lorenzo saved us? Yes. And I call the man uncle. But he's also a Legidus. Who knows? There's a chance he's also involved in what we saw in the woods. When I asked him what he was doing at the Port, he told me he was there for some art projects he had commissioned. I mean, come on," he broke it off with a snort. "Art is only art when it's timeless. All the timely shit screams an agenda. Lorenzo must have his own agenda, and I can't trust him."
"But what about the woods? And what are you going to do with Hectius? Or the soldiers?"
"Oh, I'm not going to do anything." The boy shrugged airily. Cocking his head, he flicked his eyes at Bucero. "You are."
"Come again?"
"Nobody knows of the two soldiers yet, because, well, I didn't say anything, and that Hectius, for the sake of his own dear life, isn't going to break a word either. Once we're back in the capital, I'll send my men to ask for the soldiers the Scipios dispatched to the hypocaust today. I'll get their home addresses lest you need them later."
"What?"
"This could be your first real case, you idiot!" The boy shook his shoulder, his sapphire eyes widening with sparks. "I'll keep Hectius alive in my dungeon, so no one kills him before he can testify. And you'd better pass the damn law exam!"
Bucero gulped, trying to fathom the words that circled the cedar-scented air. "You really think I can do it?"
Clucking his tongue, the boy shook his head. "But among all the clever people I've known, you are one of a kind for sure. I think I can trust you."
"Wait, I'm among the clever?"
"You really miss the point a lot, don't you?"
"You think I'm clever?"
The boy humphed, rolling his eyes. "That impromptu lecture you threw at the dock, about fighting for their lordship? That was some very nice horseshit," he relented. "I like it."
"Oh, that." Bucero blushed. "Making it about the audience to pique their interests, eh? I learn from the best."
Dracus side-eyed him with a chuckle. Wheels slowed to a clamor growing louder outside. Dracus vaulted off the bed. Propping on the heels of his palms against the ledge, he leaned out. "Can you be on your feet?"
"I think so. Why?"
"Because we're home." Before the wagon fully stopped, the boy leaped out through the window and disappeared again.
Bucero shook his head. "As always," he muttered to himself and groped for balance as he nudged to his feet. While he was out, some servant had also helped him change into clean clothes. He wished he could thank the man personally. The linen tunic felt light on his skin. Next to the bed, a pair of new sandals of his size awaited him like sentries. Bucero strapped them on and clambered off the wagon once it halted.
Shrouded in a glow was the grand city he had heard of many times, and many times he had tried to picture its majestic vastness behind his closed lids, but none had prepared him for the awe that struck him now. The outer extent of Pethens ran for many leagues, ringed by ramparts consisting of two lines of russet stone walls flanked with rhombus towers clad in tendrils. Through the grand arch of the south gate, he could see a wide moat running between at base. Along the shimmering belt of water, piers were built on either side at the heel of both walls, where carts trundled, and folks ambulated at leisure.
But before they could enter the palpitant heart of Renania, they were stopped for an identity check. The gaunt man with an aquiline beak who must be Lorenzo Legidus was talking to a Praetor's guard with Dracus and the striking blond youth on either side behind him. The guard saluted the lord before scurrying away. Lorenzo cast his eyes over his shoulder.
"I see you have somewhat regained your strength," he said, seeing Bucero totter toward them. "Lucius, is it?"
"Yes, m'l- my lord," Bucero stuttered, bowing as he averted the lord's large green eyes. "And thank you. I'm deeply honored to make your acquaintance."
"A friend of Dracus' is a friend of mine, Lucius," said Lorenzo, tapping him on the shoulder. "Let's dispense with formality, shall we?"
Bucero grinned as broadly as his mouth could stretch.
The guard that had scurried away returned with the commander on patrol. Fully armed and garbed in scarlet leather, the commander thumped his feet as he saluted Lorenzo.
"I've been told that I alone cannot be the guarantor for names that aren't on the list of my entourage?" Lorenzo raised a brow.
"Forgive me, Lord Lorenzo. But we're just following orders. All who enter must bear passes that verify their identity and purpose." The commander bowed his head, his hand resting on the hilt of a longsword cinched diagonally to his flank in a leather scabbard.
"That's fine." Lorenzo folded his lips to a thin smile. "But as the commander of the Praetor's Guards, surely you can recognize your master here, no?" He swung a hand at Dracus behind him.
"Been a while, Publius," Dracus japed. "Missed me yet?" He clucked his tongue.
Commander Publius looked up. "Lord Uranus?" He paled, falling to one knee. "Forgive me!"
Upon seeing their commander on his knee, all guards kneeled before the boy.
Bucero dropped his jaw.
Lord Uranus tossed at him a glance. Holding out a hand under his chin, he closed his mouth for him. "There, that's better," he said. Then, as he leaned close to his ear, he lowered his voice, "Once we're back in the city, there are certain things expected of me. Don't act like a fool like you are now if you see me behave differently. And don't go wandering around on your own. That's an order. Your simple country head can't even imagine the kind of vice the city harbors. We can't travel together now that everyone knows who I am. But Publius will have his men escort you to the Plazzo."
"Th-th-the Palazzo?" Chattering his teeth, Bucero fumbled for words. "Should I also kneel? Or is it too late?" He snuck a glance at the boy. Everything he found odd about him suddenly made sense.
Dracus only smacked him on the shoulder. Whirling to Commander Publius, he ordered, "This man here is an important guest of mine. You may follow the procedure and check whatever you need, but be sure to deliver him to my residence. As for the prisoner, throw him in my dungeon. I'll deal with him later. I believe I can leave you to it?" He bored into Publius' eyes. "Good."
Then, without another glance back, the young lord strutted at a palanquin that had just wobbled out from the inner gate and crossed the bridge to meet them.
Manned by twelve brawny porters, the palanquin was the size of a small cottage. Adorned with gazing garnets, its gold spire glowed upon an ornate roof seamed with reliefs. Dracus stopped by Lorenzo, bowing as he thanked him again for his assistance, then boarded the palanquin.
"Lucius Ignatius Bucero?"
Bucero found it almost impossible to tug his stare away from the majesty of the palanquin in the veil of dusk. He willed himself to the voice and saw the striking youth with ash blond hair. Behind those wavy locks, his eyes gleamed like emeralds peering from a half-open chest.
"I believe these belong to you." He handed him a bundle of clothes.
"Thank you," said Bucero as he took his meager possessions.
The young man suggested a bow and turned away.
"Wait!"
"All your belongings are inside, along with your amulet."
"No, I mean, yes, but I just want to say thank you."
"You just did."
"No, I mean for saving my life earlier. Thank you, my lord."
"I am no lord, Lucius." The man flicked a downward glance over his shoulder, a light frown narrowing his gaze. "And good luck with your law exam."
"How'd you know?"
"Take a wild guess, Lucius." He threw a thumb at the bundle of clothes with all the rolls of papyrus wrapped inside. "I do hope our paths cross again someday."
Bucero looked down. "Oh, that." He blushed. When he looked up again, the young man had returned to join Lord Lorenzo. Towering behind his master, he stood with his arms crossed before his chest. Gripped in his hand, his sword rested against his shoulder. The whole time, as Bucero took note, he had his eyes fixed on the ground in a slope and didn't look up once at the awe-demanding walls of Pethens. Seeing from afar the lofty towers and temples whose vast, beaming roofs blended into the sky, what kind of a traveler, Bucero wondered, would not greet the grandeur of the city upon arriving at its gate after a wearisome journey?
A hand tapped him on the side of his arm. Bucero skewed around and grinned, handing Publius his registration for the exam along with his bronze amulet.
Publius barely looked at them. He raised his arm. Four guards came forth, carrying a sedan chair. "Whenever you're ready, m'lord," said the commander.
"That's for me?" Bucero gawked. "No, no, no, that won't be necessary! Just give me the directions, and I'll walk." Shaking his head and hands, he cackled nervously.
"Lord Dracus Uranus wouldn't be pleased to find out if you're mistreated in any way. No guest of the House Uranus should walk the street of Pethens."
"So, in other words, the Lord wouldn't be pleased if I'm not pleased? I wouldn't be pleased if I had to be carried around in a chair. How's that?"
Publius sighed, "Alright. But you'll be escorted."
Bucero met him halfway. The awkward grin that had strained his face dissolved into a smug smile, then into an awestruck gape as he proceeded down the parterre sidewalks flanking the cobbled boulevard. Decked out with hydrangeas planted under oaks, symmetrical staircases of marble led to the grand courtyards of great houses on either side. Between them stood spiraling temples and pentagons gated by iron doors studded with stout gold nails whose size alone was to behold.
Swinging his eyes back and forth, Bucero slowed his feet. He fell behind the guards and seethed with a bustling crowd, then ventured off the main road as if taken by a whim. Air fogged in a warren of the city's underbelly, and from chimneys and tiles of terracotta rose flossy threads of wood smoke.
A wizened man snatched his wrist. His grizzled hair reeked of stale cheese. He slurred some words Bucero couldn't understand, his breath the smell of wine tinged with exotic spices.
Bucero managed a nervous laugh as he pried himself free from the man's grip. Running his hands around his waist, he counted his belongings, hissing a sigh of relief. He returned his gaze to the narrower streets and marveled at the overwhelming scene, drunking in the clamor of vendors, the clatter of wooden shutters in houses of various kinds, and bells tolling the somber chants of Pethens. The further he dipped into the throbbing city, the crowdier it became. Hovels huddled, thatched with rushes and floored with rammed earth. They loomed as if the shadows of the grand mansions on the main road, thought Bucero, the permanent yet overlooked dark side to all the glory men had and had yet to accomplish. He heaved a long sigh.
Following his way back, he missed a turn and soon found himself lost in the seedy labyrinth of the city. Dracus' order against wandering off stung his ears like nails scraping across a wall. Mumbling a curse at himself, he stepped on the base of a fallen pillar and hooded a palm over his squinting eyes.
In the heel of a crumbled dwarf wall stood the striking young man in a hunching pose, his ash-blond hair shading his chiseled profile. Behind him, a brown courser snorted and clopped, shifting between four legs.
As Bucero scrambled off the base and edged to the wall, the blond man glimpsed over his shoulder and raised a palm next to his ear. The shadow of another fellow slunk back into the tenebrous depth of the alley.
"Lucius!" Swiveling around, the blond man greeted him with a suave smile, "When I said I hoped our paths would cross again, I didn't expect it to be so soon."
Bucero could feel his cheeks purple while he held his breath. He scratched his nape, rummaging in his head for any excuse that might not even need to be convincing to account for his presence. He couldn't. Too distracted by too many questions regarding the man before him, he found his glib tongue tangled in an effort to speak at all.
The blond man chuckled. "Pethens is indeed a wondrous place. You must have felt intrigued and wandered off. Shall we find you the way back?"
Bucero harrumphed and blinked, nodding with force, "Thank you again! And how may I address you? Dra, I mean Lord Uranus mentioned it before, but I forgot."
"Moon Xeator."
"Like a night theater?" Bucero chortled and, in the same breath, regretted it.
"Like a night theater," the blond man seconded and led the way. "Stay close to me, Lucius, and watch out for your belongings. The more gracious a city, the more unbearable her filth. Pethens may be wondrous, but we aren't exactly promenading in her grace right now." His voice was so calm it sounded almost soporific.
Bucero shot a glance up at the young man's back. His previous thoughts on the permanent yet overlooked dark side of glory made an unexpected return. He shook his head as if that would clear his mind and hastened after his escort. Weighing awkward silence against unwelcome chitchats, he dropped behind a few steps. Out of the corner of his eyes, he caught a swift shadow of a fellow tailing them from every turn. Instinct told him that Moon Xeator must, too, have noticed.
Once they were back on the main street, they saw guards all over the place looking for Bucero. But other than leaving him to them, Moon Xeator made a personal delivery to Commander Publius, who would have flopped to his knees had Xeator not grabbed his shoulders and stopped him.
"How may I repay you, m'lord?" cried Publius.
"I'm no lord, Commander," the young man crooned, bearing the same, suave smile with which he greeted everyone. "But if Lord Lorenzo sends his men to inquire of my whereabouts this afternoon, I believe I came to your assistance?"
"Of course, m'lord, I mean—"
"Till we meet again, Commander." He didn't wait for Publius to finish but sketched a bow and leaped onto the courser.
Moon Xeator. Bucero traced the ash-blond youth with his eyes while Publius scolded him, dispatching his men to put him on the sedan chair this time.
The rattan creaked tediously amidst the heady bustle as they marched along the boulevard. Reclining in the chair against his will, Bucero cogitated on the journey he had undertaken thus far, and the cryptic young man whose face was a simile to a smile. A frown furrowed his brow. His head started banging again. Roaming the streets with his eyes, he caught the swift shadow that tailed them earlier slink into the back of the parterre sidewalk. He sat up with a jolt, twisting around as he looked over his shoulder.
It was him!
Dressed in a stylish linen tunic, the man had sunken cheeks and downturned eyes that glared as a hawk. When he caught Bucero looking his way, he didn't dodge but lowered his cleft chin. Baring his teeth, he stared back with a grin.
Bucero snapped away his eyes. Clamping a hand to his brow, he could feel his heart pounding against his ribs so hard it might as well break free. One thing after another, he thought, bumbling on the sedan chair as they continued their march. Before he could tease out any substance from all the misguiding details, the devil grinned upon him.