Interregnum (22 page)

He glared at the men. “Rest assured I will find out about anyone who is involved. Anyone who comes to my attention will be summarily punished. If you admit your guilt, I may be lenient. If not, I will make damn sure that you suffer beyond the limit of your wits. Is that clear?”

Silence greeted his last words.

“Is that clear?” he bellowed.

The companies saluted in unison with an affirmative. The commander nodded and continued. “If I find out that anyone has been keeping any information from me, they will suffer the same fate. Am I understood?”

No hesitation in the response this time.

Sabian nodded again. “All work parties are suspended for two hours while the elders tour the bath house works. At noon, we’ll be holding a service for Ursus in the graveyard and I expect everyone to attend. I had Minister Sarios informed of events first thing this morning and he will be performing the service for us. After that, work will begin again and you should report to your officers as normal. If any of you feels the pressing need to get anything off your chest in the meantime, you can approach either Iasus or Cialo or find me. I will be somewhere in the complex.

He nodded once at the sergeants before he turned and marched out in the direction of the gate with Darius at his shoulder. Behind him he heard the sergeants give the order to fall out and the men went their various ways. He stalked along angrily into the trees. The doctor had annoyed him so much last night that he’d dealt with the man without getting any real information or confirmation from him and now he had to threaten his own men which irked him all the more. He stopped beneath a tree with perfect lilac flowers and shrugged his armour back into position. Scanning the horizon, he lifted his cloak out of the way and sat with his back to the tree. Darius wandered across to a tree opposite and seated himself. Neither spoke for a long time. Sabian rubbed his hands and stared at them while the young man watched him intently before becoming the first to break the silence.

“Do you think anyone will come to you?”

The commander shook his head. “I really don’t know. This whole thing is irritating me beyond fucking reason. I came here to do a twice yearly head-count and now I’m a prison guard and I can’t trust most of the men around me. I don’t even know why I trust you. I think the time’s coming when we’ll all need to take some oaths of loyalty again.”

Darius nodded. “You can have my word that I have no involvement in any plot against you and that I’ll do my damndest to help you sort this out.”

Sabian smiled. “If only you were a free man Darius. I’d have had Cialo fit you for a uniform before you could draw breath.”

The young man returned the smile and then spoke, tapping his fingers on the hilt of his sword. “What enemies do you have?”

The commander shrugged. “Enough that I know of, let alone those I don’t. His lordship isn’t altogether happy with me right now; I have an ambitious captain back in the city that I should have brought with me theoretically, since he’s Cialo and Iasus’s direct superior. Then there’s three or four noble families whose noses I’ve put out of joint in the last few years, my previous lord who tried to have me killed to stop me taking a position with his opponent… the list goes on. You have no idea how irritating it is to live in a city like Velutio and to have to deal with all the conspiracies that go on there on a weekly basis. No one’s really safe in that city but his lordship. There’s no proof as yet, but I have absolutely no doubt in my mind who’s at the bottom of this: Crosus. The one who commanded the bodyguard, when his lordship was here if you remember. Got to be him, the weaselly bastard.”

He sighed and rearranged his sword belt to be less constrictive while Darius shuffled into a better position. Reaching into his tunic the young man produced a flask of earthenware, topped with a wax seal. He smiled at the commander. “I managed to lay my hands on some of the minister’s plum brandy. With him being bedridden, no one’s looking after his store.

His smile broadening, he broke the seal and took a swig from the flask, swilling it round his mouth appreciatively. The taste was both sharp and sweet. The island did make an excellent brandy. He proffered the flask to the commander who smiled and took it for a grateful swig. The morning was already gearing up to be a scorcher and the shade of the palace wall behind and the trees above was welcome. Down the hill between the dappled shadows of the branches a short stretch of grass sloped down to the sea. In the distance the city of Velutio was vaguely visible in a wavering heat-haze and between the waves crashed on the rocks surrounding the island and fish leapt, sparkling in the sun. In other circumstances it would be idyllic.

He resealed the flask and handed it back to Darius, who secreted it away again. With a grin the young man stood.

“Enough of feeling sorry for yourself commander. I haven’t had a chance for sword practice today and I’d be grateful if you’d spar for a short while.”

With a nod the commander stood and drew his blade as Darius drew his. Looking around, they stepped out from the area of cluttered trees and wandered across to the area of lawn before the sea. As Sabian removed his cloak and placed it on the ground to one side, the young man took up a duelling stance, his sword held at forty five degrees before him. The commander smiled and took up a similar stance opposite. Neither moved for a moment and then Darius stepped forward with some speed, swinging the blade at chest height in both hands. Sabian had been prepared and stepped to one side, his sword vertical and blocking the blow. He pivoted with the momentum of his step, his own sword coming back in a swing at head height, but Darius had already recovered. The young man ducked and lunged towards the commander’s thigh. Sabian barely sidestepped in time, the blade catching his breeches and tearing along the seam. The two stepped apart again, breathing heavily.

“You know, Darius, you’re better than I thought? You almost caught me good and proper there.”

The young man nodded. “I get a lot of practice, remember?”

As Darius grinned, Sabian lunged forward and Darius came to meet the blow, only to discover it was a feint; the commander fell forward into a roll beneath the sweep of Darius’ sword and the flat of the blade connected painfully against the young man’s shin.

Darius collapsed to the floor, his sword falling from his hand as he sat clutching his shin. “Shit, that hurt!” he exclaimed.

Sabian dropped his own sword point to the grass. “You do have a tendency to over-extend. I think you’ve done remarkably well taking everything from the great writers and more from a couple of reasonable tutors here, but nothing beats field experience and live targets. Shame Ursus went; he’s one of the best training officers we had.”

Darius opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a voice from the gate. One of the island’s scribes was calling them and, collecting his cloak, Sabian and Darius strode up the hill. The scribe, clad in a white tunic and cloak and with a scroll in his hand frowned at Darius before turning to Sabian.

“Commander” he said, slightly breathlessly, “Minister Sarios would like to see you in his chambers if you have the time.”

Sabian nodded and thanked the man as he and Darius strode across the Ibis courtyard toward the doors of the Raven palace. He wondered momentarily whether to tell Darius to wait below for him as they approached the narrow spiral staircase that led up to the top floor apartments, but decided against it. As they strode down the corridor, he realised that the minister’s door was open and spotted the old man moving about within. He paused at the door and knocked out of courtesy. The minister’s voice, stronger than the commander had heard it in some time, called for them to enter and they did so. The sparsely furnished study was full of paperwork at the moment and Sarios stood at a desk, shuffling a large wad of notes and filing them away in a leather case. He turned and smiled. His colour was considerably better and, although he staggered a little as he turned he seemed generally in better health. His head was no longer bandaged, though the bruising and scrapes on his face were still clearly evidenced and he wore a hastily fashioned eye patch to cover his still blind eye.

“Commander, thank you for coming so promptly. I didn’t want to interrupt anything important, but I think I may have something that could help you and I wanted to catch you before the funeral.” He gestured to a couple of wooden chairs arrayed beneath a window. “Please sit down.”

The two settled into the chairs and Sabian raised his hands, palms up, and shrugged questioningly. The minister wandered over to the corner of the room and picked up a lamp, bringing it across and placing it on the desk before them.

“Is this the lamp you found in the room?”

Darius and Sabian glanced at each other before they both nodded. The commander pointed at the lamp. “Where did you get it? I confiscated the one from the room and hid it in my own kit.”

The minister smiled. “I know we’re supposed to be cut off from the mainland here, commander and I have to admit that we’ve never used these; after all, who would we signal? But there were three on the island that had never been confiscated in the early days. All three have been locked away in a storage room for many years. As soon as Darius here told me what had happened, I went to check on them and I assume you can guess how many I found?”

Sabian cleared his throat, standing once again. “So this lamp we found was stolen from your secret store room?”

The minister nodded and a sour look crossed his face. “And that means that your doctor was being aided be someone from the island.”

The commander glanced at the grim and bleak expression on Darius’ face and moved forward to the dusty signalling lamp, tapping it with his fingers. “Who knew where that room was and what was kept in it?”

Sarios shook his head. “Several people knew of the room’s existence and its contents, but only I ever kept the key.” The minister watched a look cross the commander’s face and continued hurriedly “there are a number of things in there that we keep very private and I’m breaking a rule of the council’s just by telling you about it, but I would like to think that you would allow us the trust to keep the room hidden in return for what I’m about to give you.”

Sabian frowned and raised an eyebrow as the minister continued once more.

“Since I have been incapacitated my affairs have been handled by Minister Turus and it is in his hands those keys have rested these past five days. I suggest that it’s he you need to visit to pursue your enquiries.”

Sabian smiled, though there was precious little humour in it. “Minister, I am grateful, and my men and I will find the good minister and deal with him accordingly.”

As he stepped back, however, he held out his hand. “I would like to think you trust me and I would hope I can trust you, but if you have a room containing such things as signal lamps, I do need to see the room and its contents. What I do after I’ve seen them is something I’ll have to think on, but please pass me the keys.”

The minister’s face fell but he held out the key without another word and dropped it in the commander’s palm.

“You’ll find the store room on the ground floor along a corridor past the rear entrance” he said. “At the very end of the corridor is a locked door. I hope I can rely on your discretion and although I realise that Turus has betrayed both you and us, but I would still ask you to inflict no harm without him being brought to the council first.”

The commander nodded. “I imagine that Turus is just a tool in this and I’ll abide by your wishes for now. What happens after the council sees him remains to be seen.” He turned, leaving an unhappy looking old man watching after him.

As Sabian left, Darius cast a quick glance at the minister and nodded once before following the commander back along the corridor and down the stairs. He hurried to catch up as they crossed the main floor and entered a corridor that the commander had never used before. The young man strode at Sabian’s shoulder and cleared his throat.

“Commander, is this important right now?”

Sabian continued to walk, talking without turning. “Darius, if Turus and the doctor had access to lamps in there, I can only wonder what else they could have found. I need to check the room out for myself before I confront the minister on it; besides, I want to know what’s in there for my own satisfaction. I can afford to be lenient in my command here, but not blindly so.”

As he finished speaking they arrived at a heavy wooden door. The commander reached out and turned the key in the lock, pushing the handle hard. The door barely moved, scraping along the floor with a spine-tingling noise. He put his shoulder to it and the heavy portal suddenly gave way, swinging inwards. He recovered himself quickly and glanced around the room; it had obviously been visited rarely and dust lay thick on everything. The window to this room was high and of opaque glass casting strangely wavering, almost submarine light around the interior. He made his way to the desk directly opposite on which sat a signalling lamp of the same style as the two he’d already encountered. Two bare circles in the dusty surface betrayed the existence of the other two. Biting his lip in concentration he began to survey the contents of the room.

Picking up a small soft leather bag from the desk, he tipped it gently upside down over a tin plate. A number of small gems of remarkable quality tumbled out onto the plate with a rattling noise. He blinked and whistled through his teeth. He was no expert on gems, but he’d be willing to bet that this small pouch would be worth enough to keep him in luxury for over a year. These must have been found in the wreckage of the palace just after they’d been made prisoners here. A glance around told similar stories and his eyes wandered across the desk as he poured the gems back into the bag and pulled the draw-string tight.

Items abounded here that he knew would be confiscated if Velutio had known of their existence. A large chest of dried foods carefully packed and sealed would be very useful on a long journey; signalling lamps that could keep the islanders in contact with someone on the mainland; a bag of gems that could keep a traveller for some time. Oh, but they were by no means all forbidden items though. Some had obviously been stored here due to their precious nature. A number of delicate and very rare books lined a shelf each covered in linen to protect them, a jewelled knife bearing the imperial crest on the hilt, a portrait of the last emperor, a little faded but otherwise well preserved. Sabian whistled again. Now that he gazed at a good portrait of Quintus the Golden, the resemblance to the missing Quintillian was unmistakable.