Interregnum (38 page)

“We could maybe have done it too,” he continued. “Given enough time, we could have got everyone together; united the few lords still loyal and broken Velutio. It could have been done perhaps, but now it’s over.”

Sarios’ smile was now wide and warm though Kiva failed to see the humour in the situation. “Why over?” the minister questioned.

Kiva blinked. “The boy’s dead, Sarios. I saw Velutio run him through right in front of my eyes. I failed him at the end and now the bloodline’s gone. He was the last scion and without him there’s nothing for anyone to rally behind. Velutio’s won and us being on the island’s just bringing trouble your way.”

“Thinking was never your strong point Kiva. You were always a genius on a battlefield, but in the court or the city you were too blinkered and trusting. You never open to possibilities. Think now why I sent Quintillian out from here. Why did I, Kiva?”

The general sighed again. “Maybe you wanted him to get far away and out of the reach of Velutio. To hide him, yes?”

Sarios grinned. “Don’t be idiotic, Caerdin. Your brain’s softened. The boy was very important to all of us, but I’m a politician, not his father. Why do you think I would risk him like that?”

Kiva’s head whirled. He’d only been conscious for a few minutes and wasn’t at all sure he was up to this kind of depth of thought. Sarios had always had that effect on him though; the man could think in spirals where Kiva could only think in straight lines. He mulled for a moment as Sarios watched him, smiling. The smile was starting to annoy him.

“I suppose you’re going to tell me you sent him to find me?”

Sarios made a ‘so-so’ motion with his hand. “Sort of. Certainly Tomas and Enarion were given specific instructions to find you but why, Caerdin? Why?”

Kiva’s brows knitted again in concentration but in the end he shrugged, another motion which caused pain throughout much of his upper body.

Sarios sighed. “He was a wild card, Caerdin. Just putting him in the world again would cause change; shake things up. If everything was allowed to run on the way it was, the result would be inevitable: the Empire of Velutio and the deaths of everyone we care about. It may sound harsh to you, but Quintillian was a political tool. If you’d made him Emperor, it would have far exceeded my expectations, but in the end he did exactly what I anticipated. Like a stone dropped into a lake, he sent out ripples throughout the whole world. And even when the stone’s sunk, the ripples are still moving. Do you follow me?”

“As far as I care to” Kiva growled. “Like all politicians, you use people. But,” he said sharply, pointing a finger at the minister “whatever you hoped to achieve by sacrificing him has failed. Now we’re in a worse state than ever. More than half the Wolves are dead. The last Imperial blood is gone. Your ‘ripples’ are dying away and the stone’s still gone.”

Sarios grinned again. “Don’t sell yourself short, Caerdin. These ripples could become tidal waves. Quintillian brought the Wolves and the Lion Riders together; he flushed a Pelasian ally out of the darkness.” His grin slipped as a serious look took its place. “And of course, it’s caused a great deal of upset in the city and beyond. There are rumblings of rebellion now even in Serfium after what happened to their priests.”

Kiva sighed again. “All immaterial. We don’t have an Emperor any more and now there’s just more of us trapped and in hiding.”

“You’re still not thinking, Caerdin” Sarios chided him. “Do you imagine for one minute that no one else could ever take the throne? What do you think Velutio plans to do?”

Kiva shuffled uncomfortably in the bed. “What’re you suggesting? That there’s other possibilities?”

Sarios clicked his tongue in irritation. “There are endless possibilities, Kiva. There always are. In the past we’ve had runs of Emperors who selected and adopted their heirs. You can’t believe it’s been one bloodline from the start? And even if you did want to follow the blood, there are others who carry the same blood; distant relatives of the line. Good grief, you yourself were married into the line and who could inspire an army like the great General Caerdin?”

Another grunt and Kiva rolled over to face away from the minister.

“It’s over. And soon us being here’s going to draw unwanted attention and Velutio’ll burn the entire island clean.”

Sarios laughed. “You just don’t know how much things have stirred up. Your being here isn’t putting us in any more danger than we already were. We’re all to die soon and we know it. Velutio’s already sentenced us, but the date hasn’t been set. It seems that Commander Sabian wasn’t ready to execute you or us and he put his own career and his life on the line to send us a warning. That’s the kind of ripple I’m talking about, Caerdin. We’ve been using one of the secret routes out to ferry people off the island for the last fortnight.”

Kiva rolled back over, his eyes widening. “You’re leaving?”

A nod. “Only a few at a time and always at night, but slowly we’re going. We have to be careful. The sergeant on the island’s a good sort, but I doubt he’d side with us against his master, so we’re shipping out the less well known people first. They’re going into hiding in a community I know of. You see, you’ve not changed anything for us here and as soon as you’re well enough, you’ll be shipped out too.”

Kiva opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by a knock at the door. Sarios pulled himself a little further upright and called “enter!”

The door opened and a young man appeared. He was tall, with dark hair and a neat beard. Unlike most of the prisoners on the island who wore soft robes or work clothes, this young man wore travelling leathers and had a sword slung at his side. Kiva blinked in surprise. The garrison allowed the islanders to carry weapons? Strange. The young man glanced once at him with mild interest and approached the end of Sarios’ bed.

“Minister, I’ve had another message from the mainland. It’s com…” another glance at Kiva. “…the contact. He says he’s going to be going to Serfium, but he wants to speak to Cialo via the signals before he leaves. I haven’t answered him yet, ‘cos I wasn’t sure how good an idea that is.”

Sarios nodded. “I wonder what he has planned for the good sergeant? I agree though; I don’t think it’s a particularly good idea. Ask him about his plans first. Let’s try and stop him getting himself into trouble. Darius, I’d perhaps better introduce you to General Caerdin.” He looked at Kiva. “This is Darius, one of the promising young men of our island.”

Darius made a curt bow, his hand on the pommel of his sword. “General, I’ve heard and read a great deal about you. Your reputation precedes you.”

Kiva struggled a little further up in the bed, ignoring the pain shooting through his limbs. “So you’re Darius. Quintillian held you in the highest regard. Perhaps when I’m a little more mobile we should talk?”

Darius bowed again and then stepped back toward the door. “I’ll leave you both now. Favio says you’re both to be disturbed as little as possible and he already thinks I break the rules too much.”

With a final nod at Sarios, he opened the door and went to leave the room. Kiva cleared his throat. “Darius…”

The lad turned and waited. Kiva put on a pained expression. “Your doctor also won’t let me have my flask. I don’t suppose you fancy breaking the rules a little more?”

Darius smiled a knowing smile. “Hmm. I’ll see what I can do, but Mercurias has it now and he won’t want you to have it. Leave it with me though.” With that he turned and left the room.

Kiva and Sarios exchanged glances.

“He’s very sure of himself for such a young one” the general muttered.

Sarios smiled. “And you weren’t? I remember you when you first came to the Capital and met Quintus. You were a fresh faced northern lad with the manners of a goat herd, and yet you strolled around the palace as though you were born to it. Darius is one of my pet projects, as was Quintillian. He’ll be one to watch in future if we get off this island fast enough.”

Kiva nodded. “Who is he? Darius I mean.”

Sarios shrugged. “Do you remember the Commander of the Munda camp? Spent quite a lot of time at the palace?”

Kiva nodded. The man had been a passing acquaintance, though his duties often kept him at the training camp. He’d been fairly highly placed. Not as high as Kiva and the other three marshals, but as the man responsible for the army’s training regime, he’d been seen around the palace fairly regularly.

“His son,” confirmed the minister. “Commander Fulvius was one of the earliest victims of Velutio’s proscriptions. His son was somehow saved as he was in the city at the time.”

Kiva nodded again. “I can only presume the ‘contact’ Darius was speaking of was Sabian? He seems a good man. In the old days he’d have made it a long way in the army; maybe as high as me and he’s not the sort of person that betrays his position, so why’s he doing this? You’re the political one.”

Sarios shrugged. “I think perhaps Commander Sabian has too high a moral outlook for his current career. He’s playing a very dangerous game, I believe. He trusts he can do the right thing by us and still be indispensable to Velutio. He’ll have to be extremely careful or he’s going to end up taking your place on the cross and to be quite honest, I don’t think he’s devious enough to pull it off. He’s still in service at the moment though. If he’s going to Serfium, it’ll be as the armoured fist of Velutio to dispel any thought of rebellion.”

Kiva growled. “So Velutio moves his army into there again. Strange how history repeats itself. So where are your people going?”

“I don’t think I want to tell you yet,” Sarios mused. “Let’s just say that there are a number of secrets I’ve carried under three Emperors and beyond that not even they or you knew about.”

The minister sighed and locked Kiva with his piercing eyes. “I think our other problem though may require your help.”

“Other problem?”

Sarios nodded. “Soon we’ll get to the point where absences will be extremely noticeable and then we’re in great danger. The sergeant here’s a good man, but he’d be forced to deal with us then. We may have to resort to dealing with the garrison first. That’s what I mean by your help.”

Kiva frowned and drew a sharp breath as the pain returned.

“You need to take out the whole garrison as soon as possible. I presume you’re not talking about murder?”

“No” confirmed the minister. “I don’t want to kill good people unnecessarily.”

“I’m sure Quintillian appreciates that” Kiva replied with a touch of acid.

Sarios ignored him. “Perhaps we can drug them and lock them away somewhere?”

Kiva nodded. “That would be my first suggestion.”

The two fell silent for a moment, deep in their own thoughts until Sarios leaned back. “I think perhaps this can wait until tomorrow. Your friends will be coming in and we’ll need to discuss it with them. You need your rest anyway.”

Kiva shook his head and ignored the swimmy feeling it caused. With a great deal of effort and swearing, he swivelled round in the bed and dropped his feet over the edge. For the first time he saw the state they were in and winced. Both feet were a little misshapen and an unpleasant mottled collection or purples, blues, yellows and browns. There were poultices applied to the centre of each foot. For a moment he found himself wondering whether he would ever walk again. Add to the wounds he’d suffered the general weakness and weariness that threatened to overtake him and he almost gave up and slumped back down. It was Sarios’ concerned and sympathetic look that spurred him on. He was damned if he was going to lie there and fade while a man not far off twice his age poured sympathy over him.

He did collapse back for a moment, fighting for breath with the sheer effort of hauling his dead weight of a body around. Then finally, his knees reached the edge of the bed and his feet fell with a gentle slapping noise onto the beautiful mosaic floor. He nearly did scream then, tears of sheer agony welling up in his eyes and a shattering mirror of white pain behind his eyes. Gritting his teeth to prevent biting his tongue, he forced himself to stay upright, his feet still on the floor, until he managed to gain control of the pain and force it back down where it came from. He looked up and grinned. “Always was a fast healer.”

Sarios shook his head, sympathy and anger vying for control of his face. “Don’t be stupid, Caerdin. When you fall over, I’m not going to have the strength to pick you up!”

The grin stayed as Kiva relaxed once more, the pain fading away. Once more he gritted his teeth, set his jaw and heaved against the bed, slowly pushing himself toward the perpendicular. His legs wobbled back and forth, shaking like knotted ropes in a gale as he heaved, sweating profusely and muttering curses under his breath. With a push, he let go and tried to stand. For a fraction of a second he thought things were ok, but then the pain, exhaustion and dizziness came. For just a moment he lost consciousness on his feet, but was brought back to the present with a start as the flaming lava running in his veins set fire to his brain and the explosion of excruciating pain overwhelmed him. He fell like a sack of grain and with no grace, smashing to the floor with such a sound that Sarios heaved himself up to see whether Kiva had broken his neck. Miraculously, not only was he not broken, but had remained conscious, despite his head having hit the floor with no cushioning.

As the general groaned, the door to the room flew open and a man Kiva didn’t know entered in a panic. “I’ll get the doctor!” he cried and spun on his heel.

Kiva bellowed as best he could, a breathless cry, but enough to stop the servant in his tracks. “No you fucking won’t. You’ll go out into the grounds and find me two sticks I can use to prop myself up and then you’ll come back here.”

The servant’s face took on a perplexed look and he turned to glance at Sarios. The old man frowned for some time and then nodded. The young man reached out to Kiva and tried to grasp his arm, but Kiva swiped at the hand with his arm and growled. “Go! And on the way back, find me something strong to drink!”