Interregnum (27 page)

“You never let me look at that” the medic complained.

Kiva shrugged. “Nothing you could do. Nothing anyone can do.”

“How the hell do you know?”

“I spent a while in a temple when it happened, remember? A very good surgeon looked me over and decided it was too close to my liver to touch and the muscle was healing around it. Even if I sneeze it grazes me. Can’t be removed, so I’ve just got to live with it.”

Mercurias snorted. “Just like you then.”

Kiva glanced sidelong at the medic and smiled humourlessly. “I’m going ahead to talk to Quintillian. You just keep your funny comments to yourself.”

With that he jogged on ahead, wincing with each step as the pain hadn’t quite subsided yet. As he passed the rest of the unit and they acknowledged him with nods and salutes, he noted once again the subtle change in the men. They looked different, and not necessarily in a good way. The carefree smiles they habitually wore had been replaced by looks of concern and thoughtfulness. Perhaps it’d have been better if the boy had never found them.

Quintillian was only a hundred yards ahead of the group. He and Marco were walking side by side deep in conversation when Kiva dropped to a walking pace beside them. With a quick glance at the boy, he nodded to Marco. “Go back and join the others. I’m taking point until we get to the village.”

As Marco nodded and slowed to let the rest of the unit catch up, Kiva settled in to walk along side the lad.

“I’ve been thinking about what happens when we get to Serfium. You want to go back to Isera. Now I know Isera. Used to spend quite a lot of time there and I know that it’s part of the demesne of Velutio. Going back there is just going back into captivity and, worse, Velutio now has your death warrant ordered, so he’s unlikely to let you live even if you go back voluntarily. I assume you used one of the old Imperial escape routes to get off the island. If we’re very lucky I might recognise the route since I’ve used them before, but very few know of them. There are a couple of people in Serfium that’ll know how to get there, but it doesn’t solve the problem of why you’d want to go back. Tell me.”

He looked ahead as they crested a hill and spotted the smoke from the chimneys of the village around half a mile away. “And give me the short version.”

Quintillian sighed. “I’m not going to be safe anywhere now captain. It strikes me that the safest place for an escaped prisoner to hide is in his cell. It is, after all, the last place the guards would look. Sarios and the elders would hide me away. It may not be a permanent solution, but it’s the best I can think of.”

Kiva nodded. “In theory it’s all well and good but now that Velutio knows you escaped from the island, you can bet there’s a garrison there and though Sarios is a very subtle and clever man, he can’t hide you for long on a patrolled island the size of Isera. There’s got to be another way forward, but I just can’t think of it yet.”

Quintillian smiled. “Well while that tactical brain of yours is coming up with a solution, what better place for us to be than in Serfium, where you used to live and on Isera where I have many friends.” He frowned. “Are we on terms where I can ask you personal questions yet captain?”

Kiva sighed. It was another one of those trying days. “Go on. If it’s too personal I’ll tell you, don’t worry.”

Quintillian swallowed nervously. He’d been avoiding certain subjects for so long he wasn’t sure whether he was comfortable asking about them. “It’s about your estate there. In Serfium” he added with an inherent question.

“Not a subject likely to endear you.”

“No.” Quintillian raised his brows. “But I think you owe it to me to tell me something. I know that we’re related you see.”

Kiva frowned. “We’re not related. You’re related to… her.”

“Livilla.” Quintillian nodded. “But that makes you a relation of sorts. “I want to know what happened when my uncle died. I’ve read the histories, but Mercurias keeps telling me that they never give the whole story, and it’s the story of my family and their friends, so I’d rather like to know the truth.

Kiva glanced aside at the boy. His speech had become noticeably easier and less fancy during his time with the company. It made him easier to listen and talk to.

“Livilla was your uncle’s cousin; she was quite a woman. Had all the power and intelligence of your family, but no pretensions.” He realised how insulting that must sound. “Sorry. No offence meant, but it’s hard to wield infinite power without acquiring a few pretensions. Your uncle was like a brother to me; had been ever since the early days and I spent a lot of time on Isera with him and his court. Well I’m not going into too many details, but Livilla and I were wed in the spring and in the winter I was sent on campaign in the west. When I came back during the thaw I couldn’t help but note a decline in Quintus. He spent a lot of time alone brooding and the palace servants began to disappear. I guess I just kept fooling myself into thinking nothing was wrong. I was distracted at the time, you see, as Livilla and I had a son that month. I called him Quintus after your uncle, you know? They were good days for me, but it didn’t last long. Over the next couple of months things just got too bad and a number of the Emperor’s close advisors began to turn against him. He was seeing plots and conspiracies everywhere and because of the way he reacted to them, they came to be real. The court members who were frightened of your uncle spoke to the senate and they condemned him for a madman; imprisoned him on his own island. The man they sent with an army to deal with him was one of my peers, General Avitus. I was outraged when I heard and I left the training camp at Munda and marched on Velutio with my men. We routed Avitus’ rebels and restored Quintus to the throne in the city. It all looked good again for a month or so, but then even I had to admit there was something very wrong. There were accusations of treason and random executions in the city. People started to live in fear like they had under the Emperor Basianus. That’s when I was sent on a punitive expedition and told to burn a city. I disobeyed my orders and marched back to the city, demanding your uncle withdraw his order, but he wouldn’t. He accused me of conspiring against him and tried to have several senators and senior officers, including me, executed. In the end, I sent my army back to Munda, dismissed the palace guard while he was relaxing in his new Golden Palace and put an end to it. You and your mother were safely away in the city at the time.”

He took a deep breath. Quintillian realised how much speaking of this was hurting the captain and held up his hand. “I’m sorry captain. I shouldn’t…” Kiva waved him aside.

“You should know” he replied, “and I’ve not told the story in two decades. They say a trouble shared is a trouble halved, yes?”

When the lad nodded, Kiva took up the story once more.

“I left the island, probably by the very same route you did, and went back to Serfium. I was quite distraught as you can imagine, and went to spend time with Livilla and the boy. Unfortunately Avitus had been vindicated by what I did and he came back to power very quickly, getting one of the other Marshals on his side. He started killing people off in the city; anyone who opposed him in any way met the sword. I was a recluse while all this was happening but the last Marshal, Covis, took up his troops and went to stop Avitus. They ended up fighting just north of the city around Serfium. I was out at the time…”

Kiva swallowed and Quintillian looked up at him in concern. He was about to ask the captain to stop once more when the story tumbled out again.

“I went for a ride in the hills to think. I only realised something was wrong when I saw all the smoke, so I turned and charged back to the town, but I was too late. Covis’ army were annihilated around the town and the damage was immense. I’m probably selfish to think of it in the terms I do, cos a lot of villas were torched and many of the people in the town itself were killed out of hand, but it was my villa that I couldn’t take my eyes off. It was an inferno when I arrived and Avitus’ troops were marching away. It was nearly four hours before the house was safe enough to get into. They were all there. All of them. The servants, the animals and in one of the dining rooms Livilla and the boy.” Again the captain stopped, his voice having deteriorated to a croak.

Quintillian, his face deadly serious, grasped Kiva’s arm. “I read about the rest, you don’t need to tell me.”

Kiva smiled weakly. “I’ll not go into detail. You know how I fight, so you can picture the scene. I went back to the city. He was still calling himself Avitus then; didn’t change to Velutio until he dismissed the senate a few months later and took control of the city. He’d had most of the people of any power killed, including your mother and, as far as we all knew, you. To be honest, until you mentioned him I’d presumed Sarios to be among the victims. I wonder how many others are still alive on your island that were supposedly killed in the city. Anyway, I sought out Avitus and we fought for quite a time. I was always better than him, but I wasn’t in my right mind at the time and not as capable as I should have been. I let him get the better of me and he stuck me in the gut with a knife. I fell off the wall we were fighting on and somehow managed to land in a midden, so I didn’t hurt myself further. By the time Velutio got down there to finish me off, I’d gone. I made my way back to Serfium and to the temple there. I don’t know how long I spent there, but it was probably a month. The knife came out easily enough, but he’d chipped a shard of bone off my rib and it’d worked its way in to rest on my liver. Never been right since, but I’m still alive.”

He turned and looked down into the boy’s eyes.

“I think that’s pretty much it. You know more now than most people, as much as the rest of the company. Athas found me in the temple, you see. The Wolves had come looking for me after they heard about the fire. After that we left the lowlands and disappeared from the world of Velutio.” He smiled and added “until now.”

Quintillian nodded. “Velutio should pay for everything he’s done. And one day I’ll make sure he does.”

Kiva smiled at him and looked up and around at the outskirts of the village. “Right now let’s get into the inn and have some food. And maybe a drink. I once introduced your uncle to a drink my people make in the mountains. It used to be hard to get, but it’s a lot more common now, so we might get a shot or two.”

Quintillian grinned as they headed for the inn door. “If it’s the stuff that Athas drinks, I’ve tried it. It tastes like it’s already been drunk once.”

As Kiva laughed and opened the inn door a voice from within called “General Caerdin. I thought you must have got lost.”

Chapter XIV.

Kiva’s hand went straight to his sword hilt, as did Quintillian’s by his side. The interior of the inn was dark despite the sun still being high, and in the shadows to the side of the door a single figure sat behind a heavy oak table, cradling a glass between his hands. He appeared to be the sole occupant apart from the innkeeper who remained behind the bar, nervously polishing drinking vessels. Kiva allowed a moment for his eyes to adjust and could hear the rest of the Grey Company approaching the door outside. He squinted into the low light and his eyebrow rose in surprise.

The figure at the table was tall and thin, turning the glass back and forth between long elegant fingers. Dressed in a knee-length surcoat and robe of black silk, with a winged horse picked out in gold, he was an imposing sight. His face was swarthy and clean shaven with dark, piercing eyes that peered out beneath straight, perfect brows and Quintillian found it extremely hard to place his age. The stranger’s hair was long, dark and straight, held back from his eyes with a thin, plain coronet of gold. He smiled in a predatory fashion.

Kiva frowned, his hand not leaving the pommel of his sword.

“I thought it might be you when you launched that attack on us back near Acasio. Athas found one of your men’s weapons. You’re as subtle as ever, my Prince.”

The swarthy man nodded slightly.

“And you, Caerdin, are not as subtle as you once were.” The man’s eyes drifted to Quintillian and the smile widened showing perfect white teeth with curiously prominent canines. “And this is the boy. First time I’ve seen him up close.” His accent was noticeably eastern, but with perfect tone. Quintillian spoke to Kiva without tearing his eyes away from the stranger.

“Captain, who is this man?”

Kiva’s gaze also remained on the black figure as he replied, still not smiling.

“This is Prince Ashar Parishid, nephew of the King of Pelasia.”

Quintillian nodded. “I’ve read a lot about Pelasia; used to be one of the Empire’s staunchest allies, yes? I’ve also read a lot of unflattering material.”

Ashar smiled still. “All of it untrue I’m sure.”

Athas’ voice joined them from the doorway. “Untrue my Prince? That your people spied for the Emperor? Carried out clandestine assassinations? There’s a reason for the old saying ‘the only Pelasian you can trust is a dead one.’”

Ashar’s smile faltered for only a moment. “Say what you like Athas, but we only ever served the boy’s uncle. It was his own people who betrayed him.” His gaze moved back to Kiva. “Enough of this bantering. We haven’t spoken in over twenty years and the only thing we can do is insult each other? Ridiculous. Come. Sit.”

The prince turned and waved to the barman. “Bring me whatever it is you keep in reserve under the counter. Price will not be a problem.”

The rest of the company were now drifting in through the door. Quintillian glanced at Kiva for direction and the captain nodded. He and the boy took a seat opposite the prince. Athas pulled up a chair at the next table and the rest of the men scattered themselves around the bar at tables close by. Brendan stood by a window and turned to Kiva.