Interregnum (43 page)

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!”

The servant, all aflutter, left the room, still in two minds about what to do. He’d been told to do anything Caerdin asked, but he couldn’t imagine the doctor had meant this.

As the door shut, Kiva started pulling himself along the floor with his arms, heaving and sweating with the incredible effort. After a minute, he’d reached the window sill and hauled himself onto his knees to look out. If things were still moving apace and the island was going to rebel and evacuate, he’d be needed. He’d have to take control of it, and he couldn’t very well do that from bed.

As Kiva looked out across the island and the sea beyond, not many miles away in the opposite direction, Commander Sabian slammed his fist down on the wall. The top of the golden tower on the headland opposite the palace was the only place he could be alone and untagged during the daylight hours. Fortunately, he’d managed to commandeer the place for the guards, so he had constant access. He growled and lifted the signal lamp back down from the low surrounding wall. What the hell was Darius playing at? He needed to speak to Cialo, but Darius was being deliberately obstructive. Well they’d have to wait and see then, since he couldn’t pass on a warning.

He pulled out his spy glass and swept it around to the palace opposite, picking out some of his men as he moved down across the buildings, over the Imperial Gardens and to the cliff, and then down and beyond. He couldn’t see the port from here, but somewhere round that corner, four companies of Velutio’s personal guard would be standing in formation awaiting his arrival before they boarded the small ship. And standing at the forefront would be his ambitious and deceiving second in command, Captain Flautus.

He smiled. For all he was a soldier, he could be as subtle as the next man and prided himself that he was starting to get quite adept at playing Velutio at his own game. His lordship had agreed readily at Sabian’s proposal to remove the regular troops from the island and replace them with the more fanatically loyal of his guard. Indeed, Sabian had been saved a job as Velutio had personally vetted the men to go. The Commander couldn’t possibly have done a better job of weeding out those men who preferred his lordship over their own commander. Ever since he’d killed Crosus, he’d been gradually identifying those who didn’t maintain the right attitude; those who might harbour grudges or doubts or might even think of betraying him. And in one fell swoop he’d persuaded Velutio to do it for him! And even now those four companies of untrustworthy, dislikeable, greedy assholes were forming up for exile, all the while thinking they were getting preferential treatment. Perfect.

In a few days there would be not a soldier in the city who didn’t hold Sabian as his first loyalty, and those he’d sent to the island could be dealt with by the islanders. He knew they were leaving of course; had sent the warning himself. But there was a perfect irony in letting the islanders get away before his Lordship could commit genocide, while landing the blame squarely with those few who could not be trusted. Again he smiled. He would drop the men off at Isera and collect Cialo’s companies before returning and heading off to Serfium, but he’d have to talk to Darius and the minister about future plans while he was there.

Chapter XX.
   

The knock at the door woke Kiva from further fitful dreams that disappeared like drifting fog as he started into consciousness. He glanced around the room. Much better than yesterday. For all the pain he’d suffered dragging himself around the room, his muscles had loosened a little and he could at least move without the irritating stiffness. It was daylight, though what time he couldn’t guess. The other bed in the room was empty and neatly made; Sarios had apparently been up for some time.

“What?” he barked at the door.

He pulled himself a little further up in the bed and reached out for the two cane-like sticks that stood next to it. Using them as a lever, he pulled himself up to a seated position and frowned as he reached for the glass of spirits he’d left on the table last night only to find it had gone. Sarios or Favio? One or the other certainly.

He nodded in greeting as Prince Ashar Parishid of Pelasia trotted lightly in, closing the door softly behind him. The prince took a seat on the edge of Sarios’ bed and crossed his legs and arms.

“Well I think this is probably the worst state I’ve ever seen you in.”