Interregnum (27 page)

Velutio squared his shoulders. “Commander, you’ve picked up a very nasty habit of gainsaying and back-talking me since you came to this place. That is not the attitude of a trusted officer.”

Sabian raised an eyebrow. “Indeed my lord? I would have thought that was exactly the attitude you need from a trusted officer? Yes-men will just nod and agree as you slip all the way down the slope. You need someone who argues. I have never done you disservice.”

The lord turned his iron grey head and glanced at Crosus who was still shaking with anger and then back to Sabian again. “Nevertheless, the captain went to a great deal of time and effort to get a spy working within this community and suddenly last night, we stopped getting reports. Why is that I wonder, and where might my personal physician be?”

Sabian felt the ground gradually slipping away beneath him.

“The spy,
your
physician my lord, murdered one of my men and had been feeding you reports in a bad light in order to augment this shit-head’s ever growing reputation and power base.” He pointed at Crosus. “This man’s been buying off my troops, bribing islanders and having good men murdered just to get him that little bit closer to my job.” He suddenly realised an opportunity open to him here.

“And he can have it. By dead man’s boots if he cares to try.”

Crosus actually lunged forward, but Velutio held out an arm to stop him.

“I will not have you duelling or even besmirching the name of my guard while you stand under such taint. You deliberately disobeyed my orders at every turn and appear to have ‘gone native’.” The last phrase almost caused him to spit. “You never sent one person to the crucifix, which was a direct order.” As he spoke, his eyes strayed to the mess on his right. A startled look crossed his face, which pleased Sabian no end. In fact the Gods might be with the commander after all today for, as Velutio noticed the crucified pulp, so the wind chose that very moment to double back on itself and carry the reek across both his lordship and the captain. Velutio merely turned back to the commander, his nostrils dancing in the miasma, and raised one eyebrow.

Sabian grinned. “One of Crosus’ turncoats. I don’t like traitors in my army.”

He watched the changes of expression and colour in the captain’s face with immense satisfaction while Crosus battled against the smell, the anger and now the uncertainty. Without letting either of them recover, Sabian continued. “The two men who sang me a whole long story died well and they’re buried next to the veteran that Crosus had killed.” His smile widened. “As for your doctor, he wouldn’t cooperate at all, so I’m afraid I had to send him fishing without a head. Probably a good thing for you though my lord.”

Velutio had not moved. “How so commander?”

Again Sabian smiled. “I suspect if you tell me what reports you’ve had and I tell you the truth, you’ll find glaring errors. You see I rather think that the doctor was receiving a higher wage from Crosus than from yourself. In fact” he said, tipping his head to one side with a thought that hadn’t occurred to him before, “I wonder whether the captain’s long-term plan doesn’t involve knocking me out of the game and then having you poisoned? Perhaps the murder here was a test-run was it Crosus?”

Again the big captain, his features red and furious made a lunge for Sabian and again Velutio prevented him. Sabian opened his mouth to rile the captain further, but a voice behind called out “commander!” Sabian’s head swung around and he spotted the minister standing in the shadows of the Gorgon Gate with Darius at his side. Sarios was still in his priestly garb from the funeral and the white robe accentuated the black eye patch disconcertingly. He wondered when the doctor was going to try and deal with that. Darius was still wearing his leathers and bore the sword at his side. He smiled. Why not go the whole hog? This would make the lord and the captain as angry as anything.

“Excuse me for a moment my lord.”

Even as Velutio opened his mouth to order Sabian to be still, the commander turned and strolled slowly and unconcerned up to the gate. Once in the shadows and out of earshot of the others he looked back down to see Velutio and Crosus in a heated debate. Good. Friction would help. He turned back to the minister.

“Well timed gentlemen. Can I help you?”

Sarios thrust his arms out to the sides. “What the hell are you doing commander? You’re going to get yourself killed!”

Sabian smiled. “I think that’s kind of academic now. Velutio’s got too much on me and I’ve got no defence. I just want to make them angry enough that I get a chance to gut Crosus before I go.”

Darius and the minister exchanged glances and, with a saddened look, the old man nodded at his charge. Darius turned back to the commander and withdrew something from the recesses of his tunic, thrusting it into Sabian’s hands, keeping his back to the scene below.

“What’s this?”

Sarios let out a long breath. “The one thing we have kept from you at all costs.” Sabian began to unroll the battered scroll and his eyes widened as he recognised the island on the map, the reef systems, and finally several marked safe channels. He whistled through his teeth. Sarios continued “and the only thing that might save your reputation here.

Sabian thrust the scroll back at Darius. “I don’t even want to know this exists.”

Sarios grinned. “You don’t think I haven’t made a copy, do you?” Watching the slow smile form on the commander’s face, he added “and I assume that Velutio will be on the track of young Quintillian by now.”

Sabian nodded. “Velutio has spies and mercenary units pretty much everywhere. If they haven’t found him yet it won’t be long.”

The minister stood for a moment tapping his chin with his finger. He seemed to reach a decision. “Tell Velutio that Quintillian and his companions landed just outside Serfium a little over a month ago.” He dismissed Sabian who was waving his arms trying to shut the minister up. “The three of them then went to Calvion to acquire money. After that they were to get as far away from the sea as possible.”

Sabian shook his head. “I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to be the one responsible for you betraying your people.

The minister smiled. “It’s not the whole truth commander, but enough of it to get you off the hook. I doubt it will make any difference to Quintillian’s chances.”

Sabian stood for a long moment staring at the pair. Finally he nodded and, tucking the charts away beneath his cloak, strode back down the hill to where Velutio watched him impatiently.

“Nothing wrong I trust commander?” his lordship said coldly and sarcastically.

Sabian smiled. “No sir. Just conferring on a point of law with the minister. He does, after all, have a remarkable command of legal knowledge. It seems that I’m quite entitled with the amount of evidence and the number of witnesses I have to demand trial and punishment for the captain here.”

Again Crosus’ face went purple as he spluttered angrily. Velutio raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to ask me to put my personal guard on trial?”

Sabian grinned. “Actually no. I’m going to demand he face me in trial by combat. Then we’ll see how much he really matters.”

Velutio shook his head. “I’m still trying to decide whether it’s you who should be on trial here.”

Sabian nodded. “Then let it be that way round.
My
trial by combat. So long as I get to face this armoured monkey I’ll be happy.” He reached into his cloak and withdrew chart Darius had given him. “You might want to hold this though my lord. It’s quite important and I’d hate to see it get skewered.”

Again Velutio’s brow arched as he took the scroll. Unrolling it, Sabian was gratified to note genuine surprise on the face of his master.

“Where did you get these?” Velutio demanded.

The commander smiled. “I know you want me to be a despot, but I prefer to be fair. Being fair gets results too you know sir.” He flexed his fingers. “I don’t care whose trial it is my lord, but only one of us is leaving this place: him or me.”

Behind Velutio, Crosus nodded, his hand around the hilt of his sword.

The lord stopped for a moment and then finally, nodding, stepped aside. As Sabian and Crosus both drew their swords and swung them a couple of times, Cialo and Iasus gave orders and the four companies on the grass fanned out into a circle of shields around the two officers. Crosus, armoured in a shiny steel cuirass with leather strops protecting the thighs and upper arms, swung a long, straight sword in wide sweeps. Sabian in his very traditional cuirass, much like that of Crosus but less ornate, swung his slightly curved blade in figure eights.

The first lunge came from Crosus, disguised initially as another practice swing of the sword. As the blade came to the top of its arc, he took a massive step forward and brought the sword down in a one handed sweep toward Sabian’s head. The commander saw the lumbering move from the start and neatly sidestepped the heavy blade. As the point dug into the turf, Sabian trotted past his opponent, flicking out once with his blade and carving a line across the captain’s thigh. Pieces of four of the protective leather strops dropped to the ground and blood welled up beneath the breeches within. Crosus growled.

Sabian came to a halt directly behind his opponent but made no use of the obvious opening created as the captain wrenched his blade from the ground and tottered back to face him. He was determined to make this as slow and painful as possible for Crosus. He’d like the opportunity to make him bleed from every surface and maybe even die from that before he could deliver a killing blow. He also had to prove a point about superiority to Velutio. He smiled.

Crosus took a couple of slow steps toward him and swung the blade out to one side. Too slow and too obvious by far. By the time the sword came swinging back toward Sabian’s side, the commander dropped to the floor and came up from a roll behind the swinging edge, jabbing once with the point of his own sword and drawing more blood from the same thigh. He was rewarded with a grunt of pain from the burly captain. If this was all the man had, it’d be a short task. Crosus staggered with the weight of his swinging blade on his injured leg and had to allow a couple of steps back to regain his balance.

The captain righted himself and took up a defensive stance. He was learning from his mistakes. There would be no more stupid lunges. Sabian took a couple of steps forward, daring Crosus to strike again and the captain fell for it with no prior thought. He swung the sword, but in a much tighter, more controlled arc and Sabian raised his own blade, parrying with a flash and a scraping of steel on steel that set the watchers’ teeth on edge. With a quick recovery, he struck again and Sabian parried once more, knocking his opponent’s blade to one side. Again he flicked out quickly with his blade, drawing a red line across the captain’s extended forearm. Another grunt.

Taking the advantage, the commander pushed forward with a swing over his shoulder. The captain parried clumsily, but turned the blade aside. Good. He’d not expected to connect, but to gauge the reactions of his opponent. What he didn’t expect was the blow that landed. Although the sword had gone wide, the captain had swung around with his fist and punched Sabian in the jaw. The commander staggered back across the grass, his face throbbing with the blow. Damn he should have been more careful. Shaking the daze from his head he righted himself, realising that Crosus had followed up on the blow and was bringing his sword around and up in an arc. Despite his wounded leg, the captain was still moving surprisingly steadily. Sabian leaned heavily to one side and the blade whistled through the air where his shoulder had been a moment before. He gritted his teeth. The captain was starting to get a grip now, so he’d have to either unbalance the man again or pick up the pace and actually finish it.

Crosus came back into a defensive stance again and grinned at him.

“Come on you cheap whore. Fight me like a man.”

Sabian shook his head. There was no way he was going to let this idiot goad him into doing something stupid. “Whatever you say ape man.”

With a smile, he flicked the sword out to the left and withdrew it in a blur, sweeping out to the right with it. He was rewarded as Crosus pulled back to parry a blow that never came, the sharp edge instead slicing deep into his other arm. There would be no more punches from that arm. Crosus shambled back into his stance once more, starting to look less balanced. The loss of blood was working on him; his leg and arm were both drenched in scarlet rivulets and pools on the grass told of how much strength he was losing.