Page 80 of Firebird
“You know, Julianus. Augustus never knew the proper way of the dragon.”
I didn’t flinch at the sound of my father’s name. No one spoke of him anymore, too afraid to resurrect old ghosts or to offend the Conqueror.
“He was different,” my uncle went on with a sigh. “You are more like me than my brother.”
“I’ve always thought so,” I lied.
He chuckled after gulping more wine. “If I’d ever had your mother, I’d swear you were my trueborn son and not my brother’s.”
I grunted with a smile and swallowed the wine, which tasted like bile. It would be so easy for me to kill him now. Yet again, that was only one part of the plan. Many heads needed to come off at the same time if we were to be successful in our coup. So I held my tongue and smiled through the pain of him jesting at defiling my own mother.
Though I could imagine his assassination happening on an evening like this, my uncle half-drunk and espousing obscenities like they were truths. Me listening to him like I cared, like I agreed.
“I have always been grateful for your guidance,” I told him, injecting emotion and sincerity into my voice.
He smiled, his eyes—still slit like his dragon’s—softened toward me. “And you shall be rewarded for your great leadership, my son. And your loyalty.” He pointed at me with a wink. “That is why I’ve chosen your house as the venue to hold Ciprian’s Rite of Skulls.”
Motherfucking gods of hell.
“My house, uncle?”
“It is always the senior general of the Roman legions who hosts the rite.” He pointed at me again. “And that is you, Julian. You are my most senior general, the bloodiest conqueror this world has ever seen. With the exception of me.” He laughed at the last.
“I appreciate such an honor.”
“But you do not like the idea. I can see it on your face.”
So much for keeping myself unreadable.
“I don’t like Ciprian,” I told him. “He’s arrogant and thinks too much of himself.”
My uncle tipped his head back and laughed, leaning farther back onto his chaise lounge. “You’re two of a kind. Yes, he’s arrogant. He’s ambitious. He is not your equal yet, but he’s trying to be. You could be his mentor.”
I snorted. “I doubt he’d accept me as his mentor.”
“He sees you as a rival.” Uncle set his goblet on the low table beside him. “He wants to be first in my affections.”
I dared to let my emotions show for once, my disgust for Ciprian. “He is greedy and undisciplined.”
“Do not worry, Julian. You speak from fear that he will replace you. That will never happen.” He picked up his goblet again. “You are the son I never had. My blood runs through your veins. You will continue my work as a true dragon when I am gone.”
Frowning, I sipped my wine, stewing in the thought of Ciprian taking the throne after my uncle. I’d never allow it. If we failed and never removed my uncle, I’d come back from the grave and slit Ciprian’s throat. But my uncle was right. Ciprian wanted my place, and he’ddo anything to supplant me, including turn my uncle against me if he could. That made him even more dangerous.
“You will host the rite, Julian,” he declared in his authoritative tone.
“Of course, uncle. As you wish.”
“I do wish it. I want everyone to know you are my favored general. And not simply because you’re my nephew but because you deserve it.”
“How many should I plan for?” I asked casually, wanting to vomit at the thought of Ciprian’s closest friends in my home.
“I’ve told Ciprian his invitation list must be kept at a maximum of fifty. The Rite of Skulls is an exclusive ceremony. And though I’m sure Ciprian would like the whole world to see him receiving the rite, he will bend to tradition.”
“I agree.” I was glad to know there would be a small number of guests in my home at least. “When will we hold the ceremony and celebration?”
“Four days’ time. The skull master is preparing the king’s skull for the ceremony. The purification process will be complete in three.”
I nodded as if all of this was acceptable to me while I wanted to hunt Ciprian down now and murder him for achieving this rite. My dragon sniffed the air, well aware there was danger on the horizon, that untrustworthy men would be near our treasure.
