Interregnum (40 page)

Sathina nodded. “He was a good man. But that’s not my point. You were a general, in command of a quarter of the world’s army. Tythias here was a commander of a thousand on his own. I guess Athas, Brendan and Marco were all senior officers; Jorun’s the son of a chieftain in the north, and Mercurias was a chief medic. Then there’s the Pelasians: their leader’s a prince. And on top of that I’ve been trying to help save the last man with Imperial blood by sneaking around dangerous places and going up against the powerfulest lord in the Empire.”

She sat back and folded her arms. “And there’s me: a serving girl from an inn.” Her face had taken on a little colour during her diatribe. “I don’t care who you are, you’re not going to tell me I’ve left home, risked my life and helped save yours just so you can all run off with your tail between your legs. No. Not happening!”

Kiva blinked as she leaned forward once more and shook her finger in front of his nose. “The Emperor may be dead, but there’s something else we can do and you bloody well think of it. Everyone says you’re real clever, so show me!”

Tythias leaned forward and whispered something in her ear and she sat back quietly, though still glaring intently into Kiva’s face. He was starting to feel extremely uncomfortable beneath that gaze. He turned to face his second in command, trying to ignore the eyes burning into his temple.

“Athas, we need to discuss this, but when there are fewer people around. I’m finding it kind of hard to think straight with everyone in here at once.”

The burly dark man nodded and stood. “Everyone out. You can all come back later, but now the general needs his rest and I need to talk to him in private.”

With a great deal of grumbling and mumbling, like schoolchildren being punished, the rest stood and headed for the door. Brendan stopped as the rest were leaving and leaned down toward the general.

“Darius sent yer this sir.” He handed over a plain flask of bronze. As Kiva frowned curiously, the big shaven-headed man grinned. “Said ‘e couldn’t get yer flask, but ‘is own doctor ‘ad some anyway. Don’t tell Mercurias I gave y’it. He’d put laxatives in me dinner for months.”

With a last grin, he headed for the door, only to see Tythias coming back the other way. He and Athas stood to one side as the one-eyed captain appeared in the door.

“There’s a ship full of troops coming in. Should be here in about half an hour.”

Kiva almost leapt out of bed, but remembered as he swung his legs out and slowed down when the horrendous pain came flooding back. He stopped, wincing for a moment and then reached for the sticks, looking up at Tythias.

“Who are they?”

Tythias shrugged. “It was Darius who saw ‘em.”

Kiva grunted. “Get more information; I need to know who they are. And get everyone hidden away somewhere safe.”

As Tythias nodded and he and Brendan made to leave, the tall figure of Darius appeared in the doorway. “Minister Sarios wants me out of the way” he declared as he entered and crossed the room to where the chairs had been gathered.

Kiva whistled to Tythias and made a closing motion as the other captain left the room. The scarred mercenary shut the door tight, disappearing as Athas, his face full of concern came over to the general to help him move with his sticks. Just in time the burly sergeant gripped Kiva’s elbow as the general put all his weight onto the sticks and tottered dangerously. Without a moment’s thought, Darius rushed over and took the other elbow.

Kiva looked sidelong at the boy. He was maybe in his early twenties; not really a boy at all, but Kiva was used to grizzled old veterans and that perhaps coloured his perceptions at times. The young man was almost a foot taller than Kiva, who was no midget himself. He cleared his throat. “Darius, who’s on the ship?”

The three of them moved slowly and painfully toward the window that looked down over the Ibis courtyard. Darius shrugged. “I couldn’t see him, but I’ll give you good odds it’s Commander Sabian. It may be Velutio as well. The men on the deck were wearing white, and they had black cloaks and black and white crests.”

Kiva nodded sourly. “Velutio’s personal guard. Not proper soldiers, these ones, Darius. They’re thugs; overpaid, overdressed and over-loyal thugs. Not good if Velutio’s bringing them here. Isn’t Sabian supposed to be in command of them now?”

Darius nodded. “Oh yes. I saw him skewer their old commander personally. I can’t imagine he takes any crap from them now.”

They reached the window sill and Kiva leaned on it, his legs still shaking with the effort of standing. The general looked down into the courtyard. “What’s Sabian up to?” he mused. “He walked out on Velutio when the man had us crucified, then he warned Sarios of his lord’s plans. Then he wants to speak to his sergeant in secret by signal lamp and now he’s coming to the island with Velutio’s personal guard. I can’t for the life of me figure out what his fucking game is.”

Darius smiled. “Sabian’s a good man, but he works for the wrong type. He’s trying to keep all us ‘innocents’ safe while he guides his master to the throne in the least harmful way possible.”

“Then Sarios was right,” the general remarked. “He is playing a dangerous game. Maybe Velutio’s told him to bolster the garrison here.”

Kiva regarded Darius with another long, appraising glance. The lad was precocious, there was no doubt about that. He’d told Sarios that the boy was sure of himself, but perhaps it went further than that. It’d taken Kiva years working up through the ranks before he’d had either the insight or the confidence to voice it that this young man had now. Others would never achieve it in a lifetime of service. Maybe the boy had a right to be sure of himself; he certainly seemed to be yards ahead of most people in his thinking and planning. The general smiled at Darius.

“You admire Sabian?” Not really a question.

“Of course,” Darius replied. “He’s not an awful lot older than me, but he’s very like you and all your men: kind of old-fashioned.” He laughed. “Not meant in an insulting way; he’s got the old values, I mean. I like that and I think you do too, don’t you?”

Again the lad’s insight. “As a matter of fact he’s got traditional values in spades. Yes I like him, but I won’t let that get in the way if the time comes I have to deal with him. You seem to be very aware of what’s going on around you. You’re tactical and clever,” he smiled, “and you wear a sword. Not what I expected from the island at all. When we found Quintillian, he looked like a downtrodden servant and wasn’t very confident.”

Darius nodded. “Quintillian was always a thinker. I’m more of a doer, if you know what I mean. He knew his histories, his poets and ethics and all that crap. I only ever studied political history, strategy and the sword. I know, for instance, every campaign you’ve ever written about and every one that’s been written about you and you only seem to have ever made one mistake.”

Kiva’s eyebrow rose again. “Oh?”

The young man nodded. “At the battle of Regina, you knew full well the enemy had heavily armoured cavalry that could break your infantry, and yet you let them take your men without warning. You could’ve deployed your men better to resist their charge and then you wouldn’t have lost your infantry.”

Kiva grinned. A subject he knew well at last. “Ah, but why’d I do it then?”

“I don’t know. That’s what I mean.”

“Because,” Kiva explained, “I needed him to deploy his cavalry there. It was bait. Why do you think the infantry casualties were low? Because they knew what was going to happen. They broke and ran the moment the cavalry charged, so the losses were minimal. And because the cavalry were there, they didn’t have time to return to their colour party and protect their general. We had archers on the hill to the west that showered them for a good two minutes before our best men took the hill.” He smiled. “And their general’s head.”

Darius frowned. “I read about that battle in both Peoro and Rastus, and neither of them mentioned the enemy general dying. They claim your victory was due to your superior efficiency and panic in the enemy ranks.”

“Why else did you think they panicked though?” the general asked. “The loss of an absolute commander can be more critical than any number of men. The tribes in the northeast pledge to die for their leaders and would walk into the mouth of hell for them. That means that when their leader dies, they go to pieces instantly. Our military relied on a structure of ranks. If the general died, the only people who would notice would be the next highest ranks. They’d take over you see?”

Darius nodded. “I’d still not have sacrificed the men.”

“Then you’d have lost the battle” interjected Athas. “He’s actually made plenty of mistakes, though no real Empire-threatening ones. Regina wasn’t one though.”

“Thanks,” Kiva added dryly.

The three went quiet again, gazing out of the window, wishing they could see through the walls of the palace buildings on the other side of the Ibis Courtyard and across the sea beyond. Kiva glanced at Darius again and gestured to the blade at his side.

“You know how to use that then?”

Darius nodded. “I’d kind of like someone new to spar with, but we can’t afford to be out in the open, so I just keep practicing myself.”

“Nice sword” commented the general. “Looks a lot like mine did, until it got taken away. Northern design.”

Darius nodded and smiled. “I used to use a straight bladed standard Imperial design, but Commander Sabian made me try this to vary my training. In actual fact, now that I’m getting used to it, it does seem to feel comfortable.”

The three were still watching out of the high window above the courtyard and discussing the tools and tactics of war half an hour later when the first man entered through the Gorgon Gate. Commander Sabian strode purposefully into the courtyard, in full armour with his red cloak billowing behind him and his helmet beneath his arm. Kiva strained to see the man’s face, but it wasn’t easy at this distance. Velutio’s personal guard then entered, four abreast and in three columns. There must have been a hundred and fifty of them all told, extremely impressive in their black and white with javelins shouldered and keeping perfect time. Not so impressive in Kiva’s head: they were show; all show and no fighting spirit, he could tell from here. No Velutio though, which was a pleasant surprise.

Two of the normal island guards came stomping down the stairs from the gate house, entered the courtyard and came to attention with a salute. Sabian returned the gesture and then trotted out a couple of orders to them, not loud enough for the watchers at the high window to hear, and Kiva grumbled.

“I’d give a lot to be able to hear what he’s saying from here.”

The other two nodded, but Darius smiled. “Don’t worry. If the commander’s alone here, I’ll get to see him shortly.”

Down below, the two men left through the arch into the Great Courtyard, just as sergeant Cialo and two of his veterans entered from the rooms far below Kiva’s very window. Again there was a round of saluting and Sabian and Cialo discussed something unheard above before another order was barked and a man stepped out of the file of guards. Until then he’d been indistinguishable from the rest, but now they noticed the harness of medals on his chest and the solid black crest on his helm. An officer of some sort, then. He and Cialo talked for a moment and then the sergeant led him off through the archway and the entire guard trooped after them, leaving Sabian alone in the courtyard.

Kiva watched the man remove his gauntlet and lean down to the fountain to dip his hand and wipe his brow and face. Then he straightened, turned and looked directly up at their window. Athas pulled the other two back instinctively and with a whimper Kiva crumpled to the floor. They helped the injured general back to his feet, keeping well out of the way of the window until they reached his bed where he gratefully collapsed once more.

Darius sighed. “If you don’t need me, I ought to go see what I can find out.”

The other two nodded and watched as the tall lad left the room. Athas smiled at Kiva. “That boy’s got a lot of strength.” He frowned, unsure as to the wisdom of bringing up the subject, but shrugged and did so anyway. “Better than Quintillian was, you know? He’s what the other lad might have been like with another year among us. A natural I’d say.”

Kiva snorted but left it at that.

Rounding the corner to the top of the flight of stairs, Darius almost barged into Sabian coming the other way and the Commander rocked back and forth over the open staircase for a precarious moment before regaining his balance. He gripped the corner and caught his breath, glaring at the young man who’d nearly toppled him.

“Darius, do your elders permit you to barrel around the island with no sense of decorum?”

The young man winced but then allowed himself to relax as he saw the smile creeping over Sabian’s face. He returned the gesture.

“I was trying to find minister Sarios to tell him you were here.”

Sabian nodded. “I was just on my way to his rooms.”

“He’s not there,” Darius blurted out, hoping it didn’t sound too defensive. Sabian had caught him off guard and he tried to force the most natural smile he could, gesturing past the commander to the stairs. “Shall we go find him?”

Sabian narrowed his eyes. “Actually, I wanted to speak to you as well, Darius. You half scared the life out of me just then. Let’s use the minister’s study to wait for him. I could do with a sit down.”

Darius fought with himself, trying to find a good, plain excuse to not do exactly that, but drew a blank and merely nodded uncomfortably. This could be perilous.

The two turned and walked back along the corridor to Sarios’ door. Since it was already open, Sabian strode in. Darius followed the commander, his eyes going straight to the connecting door into the bedroom. The door was ajar by quite some way. Trying to be as nonchalant as possible despite his heart beating out a military tattoo, Darius crossed to the minister’s drinks cabinet and poured two glasses of wine, taking advantage of the positioning to peer through the door. Sarios’ bed sat in full view, fully made. There was no sign of the two rebel officers or the other bed. Damn, these men must think fast; they must’ve shifted everything out of view the moment he’d left. He sighed and willed his heart to slow a little. Surely Sabian must be able to hear it from where he sat near the window. Forcing the smile back up, Darius delivered the wine to the table.