Domna Part Four: The Regent's Edict: Domna (A Serialized Novel of Osteria), #4

By Tammie Painter

A fight for power. A battle for loyalty. A plot that could cause it all to crumble.

 

Although he's won the solonship, Sirius soon discovers others are poised to viciously claim the title as their own.

Catapulted into a world of danger and temptation, Sofia discovers her only chance of survival is to stay one step ahead of her enemies.

 

But in Osteria, new perils lurk around every corner and plots don't always strike down their intended victims as Sofia discovers her ambition may cost her far more than she expected to pay.

 

Set in a world of cruel ambition, Domna is a six-part serialized novel that tells the tale of Sofia Domna..As Sofia's life moves through the trials of a forced marriage, motherhood, and yearning temptation, she learns that destiny isn't given; it's made by cunning, endurance, and, at times, bloodshed.

 

If you like the political intrigue, adventure, and love triangles of historical fiction by Philippa Gregory and Bernard Cornwell, and the mythological world-building of fantasy fiction by Madeline Miller and Simon Scarrow, you'll love Domna.

 

Grab your copy of Domna, Part Four: The Regent's Edict to continue this passionate tale of treachery, bravery, and desire today.

 

Domna is a six-part serialized novel. The titles include:

Part One: The Sun God's Daughter

Part Two: The Solon's Son

Part Three: The Centaur's Gamble

Part Four: The Regent's Edict

Part Five: The Forgotten Heir

Part Six: The Solon's Wife

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tammie Painter
• Release date: Jun 5, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386913047

Tammie Painter

Short Version:  I turn wickedly strong tea into historical fantasy fiction in which the gods, heroes, and myths of Ancient Greece come to life as you've never seen them before. When I'm not creating worlds or killing off characters, I wrangle honeybees to add a little adventure into my non-writing life.  Long Version:  Tammie Painter grew up in the creative world of Portland, Oregon, and she continues to call the City of Roses home. Although she spent years working as a chemist in a behavioral neuroscience research lab, she could never quite tame her passion for writing. Tammie has a knack for delving into and bringing life to history and mythology in her novels. Her fascination for myths, history, and how they interweave inspired the Osteria Chronicles series.  The current titles in the six-book series include *The Trials of Hercules *The Voyage *The Maze *The Bonds of Osteria (coming soon) When she isn't (but probably should be) writing, Tammie can be found digging in her garden, planning her next travel adventure, creating art, or persuading her hive of backyard bees to share some of their honey with her. Find out more about Tammie on her website at TammiePainter.com

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

The Cowbird

THE MOVE FROM the farm to the Solonian Palace, perched high on its hill above Portaceae, was a surreal experience. Every moment I kept expecting someone to tell us it was all a ruse to get us into the city and slaughter us. I kept thinking this man, this lazy man from the market in Dekos could not really be Solon, could he? And I, a woman who had thought she’d lost everything could surely not be Solonia. But here we were, our horses decorated with purple bridles, our backs covered in purple cloaks, winding our way up the Solonian Hill to our new home.

The farm’s servants who had taken up arms to defend me were offered positions in the palace. Not all took up the chance, wanting to stay in their family homes, but others leapt at the opportunity and I was glad to know I was surrounded with people loyal to me.

After only a few days of getting to luxuriate in the palace’s sprawling baths, of admiring the sweeping views from the Solonian Hill, and of imagining rainy days curled up in one of the reading nooks, it was back to the reality of my situation. Part of that reality included being the most powerful woman in Osteria. Another part was that Papinias was back in my life. And so was the Hawk.

As had been reported, Plautinius had appeared at Sirius’s side the moment everything turned in my husband’s favor. His excuse for his long absence? Plautinius claimed to have been covertly keeping an eye on the mood of the city and planned to warn Sirius if the tide shifted against him. With the Hawk back in our world and knowing his influence over Sirius, I asked my husband that Macrinus, as his lawyer, and I, as Solonia, be included on any meetings regarding matters of politics, finance, or Osterian business. Recalling how well I’d managed things in Vancuse and then Salemnos, Sirius didn’t hesitate to promise we would be his first advisors in any matter.

As for Papinias, he’d accepted the position of household medic once again in response to Sirius’s desire to have a medic on hand who he was familiar with. Sirius was now over forty and, although still not gone to fat, his knees were beginning to ache when he stayed too long in the saddle. He also complained about stomach ailments. My first instinct was to ask his exact symptoms.

I’m not being poisoned, he insisted. It’s an old trouble.

You know I don’t trust your cousin, I said, trying to not state an outright accusation.

He wouldn’t harm me.

He fled from Tenax and left him to be murdered. This is who you trust to lead your new Guards? When Sirius said he was contemplating casting out the old Guards and replacing them with men who had proven their loyalty, I had hoped Plautinius would be among those discarded, but, like a flux that appears every summer, the Hawk returned and had assumed his old position of commander of the Solonian Guard without any questions from Sirius.

He says he told Tenax to follow him and swears he heard the centaur’s hooves behind him when he charged out of the palace.

A true Guardsman would have put his body between the attackers and his Solon.

A misunderstanding. Besides, it’s your Papinias who tried to poison Candus. Maybe you should ask him why my stomach hurts. He watched me with a level and appraising stare. Just as I was about to stammer something about his medic not being my Papinias, Sirius burst out laughing. I’m only joking, woman. Why in all of Osteria would he murder me now? There’s no benefit for him if I die.

I didn’t know whether to be insulted that my husband thought no other man, including my former lover, would want me badly enough to kill for me, or to be glad that Sirius was no longer suspicious of me. If Papinias and I were to work under the same roof again, it would be much easier if Sirius believed we were over our childhood adoration for one another. It would also make it more difficult for the Hawk to stir up his conspiracies against us.

*  *  *

About a month after we moved to Portaceae, the consuls and even the tight-fisted Portacean equines began insisting on a celebration in honor of their new Solon. While I would have normally wanted Sirius and my family lauded in any way possible, I felt it was tempting fate to celebrate victory when threats still existed. Albinus still commanded a legion that had declared him Solon and he had even gotten Seattican support for his cause. All Albinus would have to do is promise the Seatticans that the capital would move from Portaceae to Seattica and those legions would fight for him in a heartbeat.

You’re jumping at shadows that aren’t even there, Sirius scoffed when I told him we should hold off on any celebrations until Albinus was defeated.

The six thousand vigiles in the Seattican legion aren’t shadows.

But you’re making assumptions. You think they’d fight for him. They may not.

Seattica has fought Portaceae more than once for rule over Osteria.

Which is exactly why we should show them the glory of the capital, the strength of its hold on the realm, and the love its people have for me. It’s not me asking for this, it’s the Portaceans. They got no show from Tenax because he didn’t want to seem excessive, and Julian did nothing more than lead a drunken parade up to the Solonian Palace. The last true show for a Solon was when Candus was alive. Gods, even the miserly equines are sending me lists of the events they’ve planned and a proposed line-up for the gladiatorial bouts. They’re placing orders as we speak for wine that will fill the fountains of the city. The equines were amazingly supportive of Sirius and had even paid for workers to begin the repairs on the fire-damaged wing of the palace. My husband kissed my cheek. Don’t deny me this after you’ve demanded I seek it.

Fine, but make me one promise.

Is it to do with Albinus? I’m done with that matter for today.

As am I. What I want is that you set yourself apart from Candus in these games. No animals will be slaughtered for your entertainment. The only fights will be between willing gladiators, and you will only observe, not fight. Do not let anyone compare your new reign to that of Candus’s.

To my surprise, Sirius agreed. Between the first six events and the second six there would be a mock competition featuring miniature horses ridden by children, but no animals were going to be stabbed, hacked at, or trapped in nets for the sake of this celebration.

With the planning being done by the equines and the consuls, I didn’t have to trouble myself with any of the celebrations’ details and I began to look forward to what they would come up with. It would be the first time Lucius had witnessed anything on such a grand scale. To build Lucius’s excitement, Macrinus and I would take him and Meria to the Portacean Arena to watch the decorations and banners being raised for Sirius.

When the day came, we were ushered into the arena through a dark underground passage. It seemed a dangerous place to take a Solon and his family through. No wonder so many of the attempts on Candus’s life happened as he was coming and going from the arena. Feeling Macrinus’s warm hand on my back, guiding me forward, I relaxed my grip Lucius’s hand a small fraction.

The tunnel ended in a series of stairs that, thankfully, were lit by sunlight coming in through well-spaced gaps in the walls. My legs started to burn from the climb as we made our way up to the Solonian seat perched above the arena. At the top, a Guard opened the door to a broad balcony with a view of nearly the entire arena. When Sirius and I stepped forward, the crowd cheered with such enthusiasm the floor rumbled.

After the fanfare and a long speech by one of the consuls praising Sirius, the games began. The first fight ended in a draw as both men had wounded each other to the point they could no longer hold their swords. Sirius stood and cheered their efforts. I nudged Lucius, hoping he would join in the applause alongside his father, but he sat rigid. His face had lost all its rich color and he was clutching his belly. I looked to Macrinus, but he was watching the start of the next challenge: two centaurs racing at break-neck speed through a tight obstacle course.

Are you alright? I whispered to Lucius. He nodded but wouldn’t look up from the floor. Don’t you want to watch the race?

Is there blood?

By now Macrinus had turned his attention to us. Does the blood bother you? he asked quietly. Lucius shrugged, always trying to show a brave face. Just look at your lap when the swords come out.

Lucius nodded his understanding and when the next two fighters came out he fixed his gaze on his knees. But focusing on his lap didn’t block his ears from hearing the grunts of injury, nor the sound of one of the men thudding to the arena’s sandy floor. When Lucius glanced up and saw a burly gladiator hacked nearly in two by a battle axe, he gagged. Thankfully he had nothing to throw up since we were saving our feasting until later in the day. The only way to prevent him from embarrassing himself was to keep his eyes focused on mine and to chat with him about his studies.

Through every blow and every slash, Geta sat sandwiched between Sirius and Plautinius, cheering and calling in his high voice for the men to attack. Whenever a final blow would come, he and the Hawk would both pound their fists on the box’s railing and shout their raucous approval.

My first reaction was that Lucius had to be named heir over this boy to avoid saddling Osteria with yet another bloodthirsty solon. But what hit me more strongly were the similarities between Geta and the Hawk, not only their reactions, but the point of their chins and the shapes of their noses. Although Geta’s features carried a child’s roundness, the resemblance was obvious. Even their ears had the same squared-off tops.

Once the games ended and Sirius was hailed once more, we emerged from the arena onto the streets and encountered the gleeful faces of a throng of well wishers. Macrinus kept to my side and, after shaking an untold number of Portacean hands, I pointed out what I’d noticed to him.

Maybe Plautinius isn’t a Hawk after all, he said. Maybe he’s a cowbird.

You just made up that name, I laughed, recalling his talent for inventing plant names on our journey from Bendria to Dallos.

No, they’re real. They put their eggs into another bird’s nest. The cowbird egg hatches first and pushes the other eggs out, leaving the cowbird chick to get all the duped parents’ attention.

Thank you for the discomforting analogy.

Maybe it would be better to stick with Hawk as his nickname.

He placed his hand on my back and guided me through the crowd. With the image of Geta trying to push Lucius to his death before my son could even hatch, Macrinus’s touch provided none of its usual reassurance.

CHAPTER TWO

The Heir

WITH THE CONSULS motivated by the hope that Sirius would be a strong and long-lasting Solon, the repairs to the palace’s fire-damaged wing were being completed in record time. Even with a portion of it hidden by scaffolding, it would have been impossible not to fall in love with the Solonian Palace. The building was beautiful from its red-tiled roof to its sweeping twin staircases leading off a spacious entryway, from its tiny sunrooms where one could lounge in a daybed and watch the world go by to its large central room that led to a portico which opened onto a sprawling lawn. Beyond this lawn spread Portaceae City.

Saltia and Cassius had opted to take up residence in a small groundskeeper’s cottage only steps away from the palace. Papinias, with uncomfortable memories of his last moments in the palace when he left Tenax to slaughter, opted to take up Sirius’s offer of a house just down the slope from our residence. Sirius and I occupied nearly all of the second floor, while Macrinus and Meria had found a little paradise in the topmost story of the house. Keela, Meria’s nurse, took a small servant’s room, barely bigger than a closet. When I offered her a larger one, she refused, pointing out it was the closest room to the library.

Unfortunately, although the fire damage had been quickly repaired, the interior of the palace had been left for us to sort out. Julian had shown the lovely building little love and the Solonian Guards who camped here for a time seemed to have gone from room to room leaving as much a mess as possible, including broken dishes, wine stains on the rugs, and bedding crusted over from the brothel workers they’d brought in.

The palace hadn’t been cleaned out since the time Tenax occupied it and my first order as Solonia was to burn the sheets and for all of us to get to work turning the place into a noble home once again. I thought it would take a couple weeks, a month at most, but after six months we were still working through the piles of belongings Julian had abandoned and messes the Guards had left behind.

We found Julian's strongbox, Macrinus announced one day, coming down to Sirius’s office from his rooms with his tunic and hands coated in dust. I was cleaning a closet and found it tucked far in the back. You might be interested in one of the letters it contained. He held the message out to Sirius. My husband read it over, his face furrowing deeper with each line his eyes took in. He held the paper out to me.

This is word for word what Albinus wrote to you, I said when I’d finished