Rebirth and Second Chances

Chapter 208: Intimidation

"Kill him," Caesar ordered.

I watched in indifference as Janus, the young man that had been first sent to greet our part was killed, his head removed as casually as Caesar. Caesar may have thought his order intimidation, that we would quail in fear at his callousness, but he had never met Mab. If he had, he would have known that clearing the room for effect, was useless and simply served as foreshadowing.

I knew he was going to do something; he had no choice but to make a statement. If he hadn't responded to my provocation, it would have opened the door for his bureaucracy to begin pushing their limits. He was setting the stage, his movements as much for posterity, and his people as it was to create tension. It might have worked on his people, it didn't on us.

I knew from my time in CERN Dungeon, and my study of that world's religions and mythology that the Olympian Pantheon of Gods had been revered and worshipped by two different races, the Grecian and Roman. There were slight differences, but no matter how you named him; Zeus, or Jupiter, he was the same being. In this Universe, it seemed that the Roman responses and ideals had become the standard. The Greek experiment in democracy had never born fruit.

The removal of a head was a bloody affair, what was meant to intimidate, was seen instead as a kindness. Caesar could have commanded Janus be lashed, his body ripped to shredded meat and crucified, as an object lesson. Mab would have consigned him to her torture chambers before parading him before the members of her court, a destroyed body barely controlled by an insane mind. The Morrigu would have tortured him before the full Court, neither taking delight nor paying much attention, a backdrop of screams to punctuate the workings of Court and council.

King Teigh was a gentler kind of Sidhe Monarch, but even he had demonstrated the depths of horror that Sidhe could unleash. His public roasting of an assassin that infiltrated a newly formed embassy was proof. The man had been encased in a public array; his body tormented each day.

He was left in full view as a reminder, so that everyone could see him being consumed by fire, slowly, that King Teigh would embrace vengeance when needed. The horror as his body was consumed; juices of fat running in rivulets, the skin crisping and peeling away, unending destruction. Only for the barely breathing man to be healed and made ready to endure again. Day after day of torment and torture, this was the kind of savagery the Sidhe embraced.

"Were we supposed to be impressed or intimidated by that," Heph asked putting to word what I had been thinking. Brownies were well known for their frugality and steadiness, so she saw this more of a waste than a lesson.

She gave as much importance to Janus' death as she would swatting a fly. Brownies glorified order and emotional stability, and this was chaos for chaos' sake. It was senseless, hard for her to understand. She, like all Brownies, was always perched on a precipice of such chaos, they fought against it to such a degree because if they embraced that chaos it would release the Bogart. And a Bogart was a force of nature, a tidal wave that destroyed everything in their path, with few exceptions.

When you had the chance to turn Bogart any time you let your emotions get the better of you, to become a nightmare creature that combined telekinetic fury that reached Demi-God power levels with the sublimation of your will to the battle frenzy, you worked hard to maintain that control.

Perhaps if they could direct that anger and barbarism once the lost control, their ability to turn Bogart might have been encouraged. But the Sidhe feared a Bogart, and because that power couldn't be directed, Brownies were never allowed to join as guards or members of any army.

They hadn't gravitated towards professions that included hearth and home because they were minor powers; they had done so because of the stability that these roles provided. They became an integral part of a House and the last line of defense. If someone or something was so idiotic as to intrude within their domain or attempt to attack or kill someone that they considered their responsibility, the chances of that person leaving alive approached zero.

The entire home may be destroyed when they unleashed those titanic forces, but that was a small sacrifice to make. Because in this one area, their drive to protect their charge, were they able to retain reason and avert disaster. No matter what triggered a Brownie to turn Bogart, they would never attack their mate, their children, or their charge.

Heph considered Caesar's actions illogical, to kill one of his own people to assuage his own ego, simply made no sense to her. If Caesar had killed one of the guests or one of the Councilors, she would have understood it. But Janus was Caesar's messenger, insignificant, and that should have if not protected him, made him worthless as an object lesson.

"It's a characteristic of the Olympians," I said answering Heph without taking my eyes off Caesar. "Whenever you take away one of their playthings or spoil one of their games, they throw a tantrum. He thinks Janus' death will intimidate us, cause us to fear him, and treat him with a wary kind of respect.

"You should have spent more time researching the Sidhe, Caesar," I said directing my words to Caesar. "Your actions have only increased our disdain for you, your inability to care for your people egregious, and your irrationality pitiful."

"Princess Wynne," Piers interjected, voice filled with the steady thrum of power that all Blacksmith's embraced, "if this is how they welcome us, I think we should answer in kind."

I wasn't sure what he meant until I watched as he acted, and General Ilyse, the man that had escorted us to this travesty of Court and King, crumbled to the floor, his head exploding in organic matter. The hammer that Piers produced when slamming into the General's forehead was an artifact that he had created and evolved, It was overkill, but effective in causing brain matter to explode in an arc that left pieces splattered on Caesar himself.

Some would have said we were too rash, that our actions were idiotic, and contained the same hubris and irrationality that we accused Caesar of. They were probably right, but the difference was that we acted not to prop up our own fragile ego. We acted to demonstrate that we were a Power, not to be ignored and that Caesar had no authority over us.

We were subjects of Monarchs that included the Tuatha de Danaan, Seelie, and Unseelie. And there were certain insults that simply could not be born. We had allowed ourselves to be restrained and contained on Talahm, but that limitation was over. Like a genie that had been released from a bottle, we were out, our presence spreading across the wider Universe, and we would not be enslaved, chained by the trappings of freedom to conform or grant wishes.

"You dare?" Caesar exclaimed unleashing his aura and attacking Piers directly. His actions were met with contempt as Piers sent down roots, reaching deep within the very bedrock of Rome and drawing forth the powers of Earth and Fire that he controlled.

He did not retaliate, did not react in any way. He simply stood there before the raging forces of Caesar and ignored them, brushing the attack aside as he might a mosquito. And Caesar faced with proof that the Sidhe was a Power, a Power strong enough to withstand anything he might unleash realized that he might have gone too far.

"If you continue this attack, or order others to attack. We will retaliate," I warned. "We will submit evidence of your attack as exculpatory evidence of our innocence to the Senate. And when the Senate is forced to intervene and sanction Olympus more than it already has, you will have to explain your actions to Zeus.

"Lord Aesin," I continued, "you did record this meeting, I hope?"

"Yes, Your Highness, recorded and streamed live. A few news organizations broadcasting the entire event as it occurred."

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