It was with some curiosity that the White Dragon walked through the imperial palace. When in human form, there was one part of her body that never fully changed. The little finger of her left hand was reptilian, with silver scales and a long, thick, grey fingernail. Normally, she kept this mark of her true nature hidden in pearly-white satin gloves, but now she was trailing the finger across mosaics that depicted dolphins leaping from the waves, deliberately creating a ticking rhythm as the tip of her nail crossed the ridges between the small tiles.

So this was how the rulers of the human world lived? Enclosed. Surrounded by fragile, precious items. Like all dragons, the White Dragon had an avaricious heart and she appreciated the treasure room of the palace. Gold and silver coins were scattered across the floor, piled as high as her knee in some places and it was hard to remain in a detached state of mind. Rather, she wanted to lie on the treasure and cover herself in precious metal. Picking up a particularly shiny coin, the White Dragon was amused to find it held an image of the empress upon it. A somewhat flattering image. Humans did enjoy showing off.

Again, the White Dragon could understand and even empathise with the empress. Once the White Dragon had become ruler of Uffen, she too would proclaim her authority and power to the world. It would not be by tiny little trinkets such as these coins, however, but through monumental symbols. An entire landmass covered in frost. A flotilla of icebergs in the seas, each as big as a mountain. A killing field the size of Éire,[1] cleared of all cover so that young dragons could swoop and play with their prey before feeding. Daydreaming to such pleasant thoughts, the White Dragon lost interest in the diamonds, rubies, and emeralds she had collected from among the coins and let them fall onto the gold with a tinkling sound. Returning her glove to her hand she left the chamber, taking a salute from the guards outside, whose minds she had earlier dominated.

To realize her dreams, the White Dragon needed the empress and her brother to conquer the Sí, or at least, to weaken them significantly. That the Romans could do this had been proven, to some extent, when the White Dragon was young and Julius Caesar had invaded Uffen. That they could do so again, under the leadership of a far less able commander was not at all clear. Still, this time the Romans would have a dragon as an ally.

When the White Dragon found the empress, the Roman ruler was in one of her semi-public chambers, eating. Although the empress enjoyed the pretence of being a woman of the people, the reality was that from early in her life she had enjoyed the finest food and crafts that Rome had to offer. This room, for instance, was decorated with the theme of the four seasons. Each of the walls had a mural with a female figure, dressed thematically, with garlands of spring, summer, autumn or winter flowers. They were well executed, for human art.

‘Hello, my dear, we were just wondering where you might be.’ Johannes rose from his seat, raised his hand to take hers (the White Dragon quickly offering her right hand) and led the White Dragon to a couch of her own. The four couches formed the sides of a square in the centre of which was a low-walled pool, frozen so solid that you could not see the meaning of the turquoise images of its interior base. There were three humans here, apart from the slaves and guards standing against the walls. All were exhaling mist from their warm lungs but all three had been rendered oblivious to the cold.

‘You know Cevius Falerius Ovian?’ the empress gestured to a lithe young man on the couch opposite to the White Dragon. This was the young human who had spoken to the council just before the empress had intervened and his was a particularly pliable mind.

‘I do indeed. I thought you spoke very well yesterday.’

‘That’s very kind of you,’ he gave a gesture of his delicate hand, something between a wave and a salute.

‘Speaking of Gaius, bring him in.’ The empress nodded to an officer standing near a large double door.

After a short interval, marching feet could be heard approaching the doors and they were flung open. Staggering a little, as though he had just been pushed, the grey-haired human male who had resisted the White Dragon’s charm entered the room. Immediately, she stiffened and concentrated on him as though he were a dangerous Sí opponent and not a somewhat portly, balding, tasty snack of no consequence. Nothing she had seen yet threatened to spoil the progress of her plan, but a human whose mind was strong enough to defy her was to be taken seriously.

‘Ahh, Gaius Flavius Norbanus,’ sighed Lisia. ‘What are we to do with you?’

‘Empress. Johannes. Cevius.’ Pointedly, the human did not greet the White Dragon by the name and title (Princess Borshea) that all the others used.

This was not lost on the empress. ‘Don’t be rude now, acknowledge our guest.’

Gaius tipped his head in her direction and the White Dragon tipped her own even less.

Is it impossible to persuade you to our plan?’ asked Johannes. ‘Can’t you see we are right? That the Cauldron of Life will solve all of Rome’s problems? I have been drawing up plans for how to maximize delivery of the porridge to the people of Rome. If we situate it on a rotating platform, with eight drainage channels, each serving two regiones, then I believe serving ten thousand a day is actually an underestimate.’

‘Johannes!’ The Empress had been leaning on one arm, she sat up now and called out sharply to her brother. ‘This is no time to be reasoning with him. Gaius was caught trying to flee the city with a cart full of his most precious belongings. His mind is made up against us and if he says anything to the contrary, it will be a lie. Isn’t that so, Gaius?’

‘I don’t lie.’

‘Well then. Where were you going? Have you friends outside of Rome? Did they put you up to this? To making an attack on us? What’s going on Gaius?’

The room fell still, an icicle from high up on the decorated window lintels gave a crisp crack.

‘No one put me up to anything. I firmly believe in the policy set down by Julius Caesar and which has worked for centuries, which is not to have any dealings with Tartarus.’

‘Where were you going?’

‘I’ve seen what happens to your opponents, empress, and thought it was time to visit Carthage. I believe it is a warm and pleasant city, with an excellent library and many venerable philosophers.’ The human, who up until this moment had been behaving with admirable calm, suddenly ran a hand over his unshaven cheek and appeared distressed. ‘Empress, please, let me retire to Carthage, where I shall write harmless studies of History and Philosophy.’

‘Possibly. Are you willing to resign your positions and make a public declaration of your errors and support for our plans?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Might I speak?’ The White Dragon did not want this danger to her plans to escape so easily.

‘Of course, princess,’ said Johannes gallantly, but the dragon waited for an approving gesture from the empress before continuing.

‘He’s lying. His contrition is feigned and he means you harm. In my country we would execute opponents like him.’

Lisia nodded solemnly and brushed a stray lock of hair back behind her ear. ‘There is something to be said for that method of directing a large polity. But in Rome we have to manage a body of councillors and senators who I despair of at times but who might get difficult if we stick Gaius up on a cross. Better to let him go. After all, he looks somewhat liverish, it wouldn’t surprise me if he didn’t last a year.’

Cervius chuckled at this and the White Dragon could sense that the empress was considering a variety of methods of getting rid of the annoying figure standing before her (having him pushed into the Mediterranean en route to Carthage was foremost in her thoughts, but first, she wanted to discover who he was working with, the extent of his network of allies).

‘I appreciate my situation is hopeless,’ said Gaius, ‘but do you really think you are safe in the presence of this spirit from Tartarus? Can she really be all she seems when we have snow in July in Rome and the air around her is as cold as I’ve ever experienced?’

‘Gaius,’ Cevius put his wine goblet down onto the small table in front of him. ‘No one here is afraid of Tartarus. Roman iron and Roman strategy…’ — a look across to Johannes — ‘… will ensure us victory and our leaders their rightful place in history. Not to mention the obvious benefits of our acquisition of powerful magic items. It doesn’t surprise me that you will be absent from what will be a glorious moment. You belong to a layer of politicians who are old, not necessarily in age, but in mentality.’

The White Dragon sensed the approach of another person whose mind was not under her influence and looked towards the door a moment before it opened.

‘Forgive the intrusion, empress, but you wished to be told as soon as legate Sapentia Avita Metrodora returned.’ An elderly and somewhat nervous female officer had entered the room, giving a bow to both the empress and her brother.

‘There is nothing to forgive,’ the empress waved away the need to apologise, ‘you are quite right. Send her in.’

Everyone rose to welcome the newcomer, so the White Dragon stood up too. The empress even went so far as to cross the room and grasp the young woman by both her hands. It was not a ritual the White Dragon was familiar with, so she just stood with her arms folded and watched carefully. What was it about this dark-skinned, lively-eyed human that gave her strength?

‘Sapentia, my dear, you look very well. You’ve survived your dangerous expedition to the most remote part of our realm? Tell us all about it. You know Cevius Falerius Ovian and Gaius Flavius Norbanus, of course. Gaius is about to resign all his positions by way of apology for a bitter and personal attack on Johannes in the Grand Council yesterday.’

‘Gaius?’ The young woman looked upset and uncertain.

The older man shrugged. ‘I’m afraid so.’

‘And, much more positively, this is our honoured guest Princess Borshea. A victim of the civil wars now raging in Tartarus, in return for our restoring her to her principality, she will give us regular tribute, starting with the Cauldron of Life.’

‘Which will more than solve our food supply problems,’ interjected Johannes eagerly.

‘Princess,’ the newcomer bowed and the White Dragon did likewise, without ever taking her eyes off this strong-willed officer. ‘Allow me to correct you, please, empress. I did not experience too much danger. You’ll be glad to hear that peace and respect for the empire extends all the way to the western edge of Cambria. And as for Tartarus, my companion and I were fortunate that nothing untoward crossed our path. So, I can’t really claim too much credit for the journey.’

‘Come, sit beside me.’ Lisia guided the legate to her couch. ‘I understand you have returned with the magicians we needed.’

Sapentia smiled, a rather charming expression that did much to allay the White Dragon’s concerns. No one so innocent could be all that dangerous. ‘Oh yes, wait until you meet Arthyr, he’s something special.’

‘A man?’

‘Not only a male, but a youth; younger even than me.’

‘And yet?’

‘Yet he’s the most powerful magician in the empire. Well, perhaps. He was acknowledged as the most powerful in Betws-y-Coed and that means a lot.’

‘You are sure he can bring a legion into Tartarus?’

‘I am. Well, if anyone can, he can. He has so many allies in Uffen. I say Uffen, empress, because I am so used to the company of these magicians and that is their term.’ She looked up and the White Dragon could see that the legate was staring curiously at the icicles. ‘Why is it so cold in here?’

While the old man muttered, ‘so you can feel that too?’, the empress, her brother, and the epigone looked blank and unresponsive.

‘You are a magician yourself?’ asked the White Dragon.

‘Oh, no. Not at all,’ Sapentia shook her head.

‘And yet. There is something, some knowledge, some magic item you possess?’

‘A little knowledge, perhaps, I read some works on magic. But you know we don’t encourage Romans to meddle with the realm of Tartarus.’ An uneasy glance at the empress.

‘Some kind of ward; a device?’

‘Oh, perhaps you mean my bracelet and necklace? Ah, just a precaution. They probably didn’t help. Antiochus of Rhodes wrote that pine and the feathers of a wren…’ She gave up in confusion, evidently torn between official repudiation of all things magical and her own practice. The White Dragon sat back, content. All was clear. Two flimsy charms explained the obstruction. This girl was no threat.

‘Sapentia,’ Gaius almost whispered. ‘Can’t you see? That Sí wanted to know how you were resisting her spell. She has the empress enthralled.’

‘Gaius, are you still here?’ Lisia looked up with a scowl. ‘Leave us at once and write that resignation speech.’

‘Empress. I have a new request.’

‘What now?’ groaned the male youth, Cevius, rudely.

‘Allow me to play my part in the glorious invasion of Tartarus that you have planned. Let me resign all my positions in Rome and join the legion as a common footsoldier.’

Johannes laughed, delighted. ‘You’re a little too old and fat for that, Gaius, if you don’t mind me saying so.’

‘Empress? Please.’

‘Very well. It will make a good impression on the populace. Now leave us. We have a lot to talk about; subjects that are not fit for the ears of a rank-and-file infantryman.’

As the former senator left, he shot a look of hatred at the White Dragon. The feeling was mutual.

[1] Which we call Hibernia.