The Centurion - 12. Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve:

Hail... Hail

Our kings have ruled wisely And given us plenty Protecting us from any harm Our Queens are great beauties All kind and warm loving Her children, just the same To the King, To the Queen We shout our praise To the King, To the Queen Our loyalty we pay

Final Stanza and chorus of the Tosian Anthem

Since the birth of the cores and the anima they hold, blue for Centurion, red for Legatio, the two were meant to meet and join to form the perfect anima... that of a bonded Legatio and Centurion in true love. Yet while many have tried, none have succeeded in bonding such a pair... the differences between a Legatio and Centurion too large

to bridge.

...A History of Legatio and Centurion Relations, written by Melkior, first High Ambassador.

You brat... come over here!” Jason’s mother ordered from across the room.

Jason, his body shaking with fear, tried to stand up but fell, his legs still broken.

“You stupid child... You come over here now or else I will cut

it off!” Jason, in pain from falling on the floor began to cry. “I can’t!”

“You know why you can’t... you let a filthy man touch you.”

“But I am a man!” “You are nothing but a boy and always will be. No one can love

a thing as dirty as you! Now crawl over here so I can cut it off!” his

mother ordered waving a gold knife.

Slowly Jason crawled over to his mother, the tears streaming from his face. His mother then raised the dagger as if to strike...

When Jason awoke, it was to the feel of a warm weight against his back and around his waist. The very touch sapped the fear out of him, leaving him feeling safe for the first time since he could remember. He enjoyed it so much that he was afraid that moving would break the moment.

Philip, having been awake for almost an hour, shared the prince’s fear. But when he noticed a change in Jason’s breathing, he knew the young man had awakened however. “You sleep well?”

“Yes...” Jason lied. He didn’t want Philip to feel blamed for his nightmares.

Letting go of Jason’s waist, Philip stood up and started to get back into his uniform. “It’s time for us to get going. We have a busy day ahead of us.”

Jason smiled as he sat up, watching with curious eyes as Philip got dressed. The room was filled with the smell of toasted bread, eggs, and a slab of bacon that Jonathan was cooking in the fireplace. Once back in uniform, Philip helped the prince to the chamber pot to relieve

himself before setting him down at the table.

As the three of them ate breakfast, Philip explained to Jason what the plan was; “As soon as I’m back in my armor, I will carry you out of the tower. We have built a litter to take you through the Labyrinth to the palace. Once there, you will be crowned King of Qul Tos... not that it will mean much now.”

“Why?” Jason asked. He had known he was a prince, but he never considered that he would one day become king.

“The war has not left much of the kingdom, but it’s yours and your responsibility. After that, you will ride in a carriage to your new home.”

“Where is that?” Jason asked.

“Domus,” was Philip’s one word answer.

“Is that another tower?” Jason asked nervously.

“No... not at all. It is a city with parks, fountains, theaters, arenas, museums... many places for you to explore.”

“Does it have a library?” Jason asked hopefully.

“Yes it does... several in fact.” Philip laughed, reaching over to tousle Jason’s hair.

Afraid that Philip would abandon him after arriving in Domus, Jason looked up at the Centurion with pleading eyes. “Will you be there?”

“I hope to be one of your teachers,” Philip said, waiting eagerly to hear Jason’s response.

“I would like that.” Jason smiled, afraid of sounding too eager.

“Good... you will love the city. You will be around other boys your age.”

“Will they be my friends?”

Philip stood up from the table and began to put on his armor. “You’d better believe they will be. You don’t know this, but your father was a very famous man... you are famous as well.”

“I am...? But I have not done anything.”

“You survived, Jason. If there is one thing that earns a Centurion’s respect, it is a person’s ability to survive against the odds.

Jason wished that Philip didn’t have to put his armor back on. He looked so cold in his red and black metal casing. Still, even with all that weight, Philip was able to carry Jason easily down the seven flights of stairs to the bottom of the tower. There, the litter waited with an honor guard of fifty armored Centurions and four black-robed Famulus.

Thick blankets of furs and several of the Regent’s goose-feather pillows

lay on top of the litter to keep him warm and comfortable for the two-

hour journey to the end of the Labyrinth.

As soon as Philip tucked Jason in, he took position by his side. “Wait!” Jason shouted, suddenly remembering he forgot something.

“What is it?” Philip asked.

“The skull under my bed. I cannot leave without it.”

“A skull?” Philip raised an eyebrow. “Jason... is the skull a Centurion skull?”

In his excitement Philip left Jason and ran back into the now empty tower, taking the stone steps two at a time till he was once again in Jason’s room and there he saw it, the large skull. Going down on his knees, Philip took it, his hands shaking. He was certain that this had to be the long missing skull of General Agamemnon. Nothing had enraged the Centurions more then Agamemnon’s body being dumped over the city’s walls without his head. It was the only part valued after

a Centurion’s death. Walking more slowly then he had when rushing into the

tower, Philip carried the skull to the litter where he handed it to one

of his men. “Take this to the General Darius. Tell him it is the skull of Agamemnon.”

“Yes... yes commander. I understand.” The Centurion replied, his eyes wide.

Jason, watching the skull being taken away, became concerned. “Where are you taking it?”

Philip suddenly realizing that Jason did not know the significance of the skull, became hesitant to answer. “It might fall off the litter. My man will see that it arrives safely to Domus,” Philip lied, — Centurion skulls would not break from a simple fall.

“But it had fallen from my bed a lot of times,” Jason pouted.

“Jason...” Philip growled, he did not like lying to the young man but also did not want to upset him by telling Jason that the skull was his father’s.

Jason, suddenly frightened, covered his head with one of fur blankets. “I’m sorry...”

Remembering again how Jason must have lived in fear of making a mistake, Philip mentally berated himself. “No Jason... I am the one who is sorry. I should control my temper more,” he said, knowing that was almost a joke to ask such of a Centurion. Even after Philip apologized, Jason remained covered.

“Now Jason, do not force me to beg.” Philip laughed as he pulled on the fur blanket.

Jason let the blanket fall just enough so that his eyes were showing. “I’m sorry.”

Sighing, Philip leaned down and kissed the top of the boy’s head. It was the only thing he could think of to show that he was not mad at him. It did the trick, Jason let the rest of the blanket fall off his face.

Philip reached over and cupped Jason’s hollow left cheek in his hand, feeling himself warming the pale skin. As a Centurion, he had two central forces in his life. One was to kill. The other was to protect. Right now nothing else seemed to matter more than to protect this poor fragile young man. When a drum took up a slow beat, signaling the start of the march, the litter was lifted up by four black-robed Famulus

servants and carried toward the cavern entrance. The deepest Jason could remember going into the Labyrinth

in recent years was to the elevator shaft, and that was back when his

mother still controlled most of the Labyrinth. It all looked the same, the smooth pink granite walls lit by torches, the taint of long dried

blood spackling the floor. When he took the elevator down, he had hoped to see something different, but to his great disappointment the

Labyrinth remained the same, the same pink stone, the same torches every twenty feet, and the same amount of dried blood on the walls.

With the combination of boredom and the rocking of the litter, he soon

fell asleep.

He did not awaken until Philip lifted him off the litter. Now...

with sunlight streaming through the high, broken, blue stained glass

windows, Jason saw he was finally someplace new. He was in the

ruins of a long hall, broken white marble everywhere. The blue drapes

looked frayed and rotten on the edges, while the floor was stained by

the dropping of birds that had chosen the ruins of the Qul Tos throne

room to nest. The only thing left undamaged was a silver throne and a

silver crown rimmed with blue sapphires that rested on it.

Philip took the crown off the throne. With only the fifty honor

guards, and four servants watching, Philip handed the crown to Jason. “What am I to do?” Jason asked nervously. He had seen the crown before. His mother had always gotten angry whenever he tried

to touch it. Even with his mother dead, the crown burned in his hands

as if his mother would rise from the dead and catch him with it.

“You are to put it on your head, your highness.”

“But this was my mother’s crown.”

“No... it was the king’s crown,” Philip corrected. “You are now the King of Qul Tos.”

“So I am to put it on my head and that will make me king?” Jason asked.

“In the eyes of the Centurion’s and, therefore, the rest of the world you will be.”

Scared from all that Philip was telling him, the crown shook in Jason’s hands. “But I don’t know how to be a king?”

“Jason, I know you don’t feel ready, but you will not be expected to rule until you are. Another Legatio will come to take over the restoration of Qul Tos. You don’t even have to come back here if you don’t want to,” Philip said calmly.

“Then why should I put on the crown?”

“Because it is a symbol... a symbol of your responsibilities,” Philip said patiently but sternly. Even though Jason was still four years away from being viewed as a full adult by Legatio standards, Philip wanted to press into the young man the need to live up to one’s responsibilities as a man.

“Alright...” Jason agreed.

Very carefully Jason lifted the crown up over his head. The cold circlet of silver and jewels seemed to weigh more than such a small piece of metal should. Slowly, as if fearing the crown would come crashing down, Jason lowered it till it rested on his head.

“There... you are now King Jason the IX, Lord of Qul Tos and Master of the Labyrinth Tower, Grand Duke of Qul Hoth, Guardian of the Qulos River, and Guild Master of the Silversmiths.

“I don’t feel any different,” Jason said, confused by Philip’s

pronouncements.

“You’re not... titles mean little among us Centurions. Except in battle, we are all equals.” Philip smiled, happy that Jason had not changed like most people did when given power.

“Can I take the crown off now?” Jason asked, still feeling

nervous about wearing it. “Yes you may.” Philip laughed.

Good.” Jason sighed with relief. He lifted the crown off his head but this time it lipped from his grip, falling to the floor. “I’m sorry!” Jason said, panicked. He could clearly see that two of the sapphires had been knocked out of their settings.

Jason stood up and tried to recover the broken crown, but he instantly collapsed into Philip’s arms. He was so worried about the crown that he forgot his legs were broken.

“Don’t worry about it, Jason. It is just a piece of metal.”

“But it was my mother’s. She is going to kill me,” Jason said in hysterics, his eyes darting around the room as if she would rise from the broken tile ground to punish him.

“Jason! Your mother is dead. She can’t hurt you any more,” Philip said, shaking him.”

“She will break my arms!” Jason said still in fright, Philip’s hard grip hurting him.

Giving up trying to convince Jason that his mother was dead, Philip saw he was doing more harm than good and let his hands relax their grip. “I won’t let her hurt you, Jason. I will not let anyone hurt you ever again.”

“She will hurt me,” Jason sobbed as he was rocked in Philip’s arms.

“Not if I have anything to say about it, Jason.”

“But the crown?” Jason murmured as he slowly relaxed.

“This piece of junk?” Philip laughed as he picked the crown up and tossed it over his shoulder.

“The crown!” Jason panicked again as he saw several more sapphires pop off the band of silver.

“It’s not important, Jason.” Philip whispered. “I’m sorry if I scared you. I never wanted to do that. Given the way your mother tried to emasculate you I hoped that by getting you to crown yourself king

you could reclaim the part of your manhood your mother stole.” To press his point Philip picked up the two sapphires that Jason

had knocked off. They were five karats each, cut into perfect squares.

“You know what I’m going to do with these?”

“No...” Jason sniffed.

“I’m going to make a pair of rings out of them... for both of us. Would you like that?” Philip asked with a hopeful smile.

“For both of us?” Jason asked, lifting his head from Philip’s

chest. “Yes... one for me and one for you. It would be like the tattoos on my back, a life accomplishment just like your crowning. What do you think?”

“I would like that,” Jason agreed. He would not have minded getting a tattoo on his shoulder if Philip was getting the same thing, but he had read that tattoos required needles, and sharp objects still scared him.

“Good... I have some gold coins in my pouch. I can ask our blacksmith to use them to make the rings. I promise by tomorrow I will be able to put a ring on your finger.

Having calmed Jason down and given him something to look forward to, Philip lifted him up and put him back on the litter. Soon they were on the march again, the silver crown left broken on the marble floor.