Interregnum (60 page)

“You can make use of
them
too. Use your sword and cut a two-foot length of leather from the reins. Then tie it
real
tight around the hilt of your sword, just by the guard. Loop it a couple of times and hang it back on the saddle horn. When you finish with your spear, if you do this, you’ll be able to slip the sword off the horn and go straight to work instead of struggling to remove the belt loop. As you do it, you can wrap the leather around your wrist. When you hit someone hard, your arm’ll jar and if you’re not careful you’ll drop the sword. If it’s bound to your wrist it won’t leave you defenceless.”

Kiva smiled. It reminded him so much of his early days at Vengen. This was what the world lacked these days: order and sense. And that was one of the best reasons for doing what they were doing. He turned, still listening to the commander barking out instructions.

“Your horses will be slower and heavier and more difficult to handle when their barding’s complete. Several stone of chainmail will make them less responsive, so you’ll need to work with them…”

His voice trailed off as the general walked away from the fence. The whole place was alive with activity. He strolled past the forges and furnace where Athas had homed all the personnel with any skill at smithing. Only three men had known how to manufacture chainmail links and put them together, but with expert supervision, that number had grown quickly and shirts and horse armour were now being churned out daily. Still, faster production was needed. Beyond was the punishment yard. Here, decades ago, prisoners who’d broken the rules had been flogged or beaten or locked in the sweat-box. Now it was lined with dummies and targets along the two ends, with standing positions marked in the middle.

Archers had been trained not en masse, but in highly adaptable and mobile units of forty, with these units being brought together in fives under the command of individual missile commanders. It was at times like this when his thoughts turned to the Wolves they’d lost recently. Thalo would have been the best man to command and train the archers; there was no one better. But he was gone and his killers, the crossbowmen of Captain Phythian had been amalgamated with Filus’ Western Legion’s archers for the sake of surety of their loyalty. They stood in the centre of the punishment yard, ploughing bolt after bolt into the dummies and targets. The speed and accuracy was truly impressive, though even thinking about it pushed him once more into thoughts of the Wolves that these men had killed. A low growl escaped his throat and he forced himself to remember why they were here. They’d taken new oaths and worked with a trustworthy commander now. And they were an asset.

He was still brooding when a voice behind him said “and do you trust them?”

The general turned to see Sithis standing behind him. The captain of the Swords had been a real ladies’ man in the old days, a swashbuckler and a man of some reputation among the court. These days, despite twenty some years passing, he really hadn’t changed a great deal. The one visible scar he’d picked up ran lightly along his cheek under his eye and did nothing to mar features that still turned the heads of the women at Hadrus. Kiva was fairly sure the captain hadn’t spent a night alone since his arrival and the thought made him smile.

“I’m trying to. It’s not really their fault. Our men would do stupid things if we ordered them to. That makes it Phythian’s fault, and he’s already paid for it.”

Sithis walked up next to his commander and leaned heavily on the fence. “You don’t actually believe that though, do you? I know my men would do it, because I prefer skill and obedience to the ability to command. My men were all swordsmen in their time. Yours were all commanders themselves and they all think like officers. If you’d ordered the Wolves to kill Tythias and his men, do you really think they would?”

Kiva shrugged. “I suppose not, but then these men here weren’t selected for their command ability or ethics, just for their ability with a crossbow. I suppose they deserve a chance. Besides,” he added as he turned again, “they took the oaths and I’m as bound by them as they are.”

Sithis nodded, a quirky smile on his face. “I got a chance quickly to meet Tythias’ young lady before they left. How in the name of every god with sense did a battered wreck like him end up with such a gorgeous little woman as that?”

Kiva laughed. “War makes people do crazy things. That little woman infiltrated Velutio’s palace to find us when we were all neck deep in shit. If it weren’t for her this wouldn’t be happening. She’s got the respect of every officer here.”

“And the hearts and minds of a few too, I’ll bet” replied Sithis with a grin.

“Well what about you? Now you’re here I doubt there’s a single woman in the camp that’s not falling over themselves just to wash your tunics?”

Sithis’ grin grew wider. “Can I help it if I’m beautiful?”

The two laughed for a moment and then fell silent, listening to the swipe, twang and thud of crossbow practice. After a while the swordsman cleared his throat, glancing down at the weapon hanging from the general’s belt. “What happened to your sword? That’s new, isn’t it?”

Kiva nodded. “Mine’s probably decorating one of Velutio’s rooms somewhere. This one’s alright, but it’s just not the same.”

“Can you use it?” Kiva glanced across at his training officer with narrowed eyes. The question was loaded with more than just a light query over his new sword.

“Let’s go examine the Emperor’s new quarters while we talk,” the general commented quietly. Sithis nodded and the two of them began to wander towards the residential area of the camp. Long, low buildings that had been cell blocks had been converted for habitation among the army. Out of deference to their status, those who were commanders, civilians or craftsmen had been given the prison guards’ quarters to convert. Darius had, of course been given the best available. The greatest building in Hadrus, the chief warden’s quarters, may have been converted into the headquarters, but the villa that had been put aside and hastily converted for their new Emperor was as sumptuous as possible in their somewhat limited circumstances. After Kiva’s reorganisation of the forces at their command, he’d set aside two hundred men as an Imperial Guard. They’d all been selected by their commanders as the best and most loyal and had all taken a further oath in private to the Emperor and the general. Their loyalty, while nothing in the world at the moment could be truly sure, was unquestioned, and though a hundred of them had accompanied Darius on his travels, the rest remained here to protect his interests. They answered officially to Darius alone, though the young Emperor had told them to follow any orders given them by any man of the Wolves or the Lion Riders. Two such guards stood either side of the door to the Imperial residence, at attention and heavily armed, wearing the black and green uniform displaying the raven and the crown. They saluted as Kiva and Sithis approached and the general returned a half-hearted gesture.

“We’re not here to steal the Emperor’s valuables, but we need somewhere private for a short time. Go get yourselves a bite to eat. Be back in an hour to resume your posts.”

Without a word, the two men saluted again and then fell out, walking swiftly towards the cookhouse. Sithis smiled. “They’re just like the palace guard used to be when Quintus was in charge.”

“Yes, and with just as much sense of humour.” The general opened the door and wandered inside, holding it open for his junior officer. As Sithis entered, he looked around appraisingly while Kiva shut the door once more.
 
It was clear to anyone who knew Darius that the decoration of this entrance hall was not his work. Probably Athas had most of the say. Banners hung from the side walls displaying Imperial symbols, maps of the Empire plastered the rear wall and everything was painted in bright, rich colours. With a smile, Kiva opened the side door into the study Darius tended to use; the only room Kiva had spent time in. This room was virtually bare of decoration, though cluttered with maps, weapons, lists and books. Copies of Peoro’s ‘On Warfare’ and Rastus’ ‘Battles of the Late Empire’ lay open on a desk. Kiva smiled.
This
was the Darius he knew.

Sithis shrugged. “Somehow I’d expected it to be a bit more luxurious.”

“We have a soldier Emperor now, Sithis. Darius is not the same as Quintus, Basianus or Corus. They were all born to the purple and never had to really fight for it. Darius had proved himself a number of times before the throne was ever put before him. That’s why he’s the man we need. That’s why I’ll put myself through the grinder to put him in control.”

The swordsman smiled. “I wasn’t putting him down, sir. Just a little surprised that’s all. After all, I remember the old days like you.”

“Yes, well. This is a new world,” Kiva replied, “and don’t call me sir when we’re alone. I’ve been fighting alongside you at the same rank on and off for twenty years. Wish you’d been around when all this shit first started hitting us instead of gallivanting off in the west making huge piles of coin.”

“Kiva, if I’d know all this was going on, I’d have been back like a shot and you know it. So would Filus, Sorianus, Belto and a whole load of others. At least you had Tythias. Belto heard about it but never managed to reach us at the meeting point. I heard they met Velutio’s army head-on and totally by surprise. We’ve never even found Sorianus. He could be up in the barbarian lands for all we know. Problem is: everything happened too fast. If you’d given us another month before starting all this, every unit worth their salt would have been waiting for you at Munda.”

Kiva nodded. “I know. I just can’t help thinking about might-have-beens. Entirely off the record, Sithis, I’m positive as hell out there in front of everyone, but I don’t really see how we can win this. We’ve got a sizeable force and they’re well trained and in high spirits and all that, but that’s only worth so much when you’re facing odds of four or five to one or more. And I have a horrible feeling that’s the odds we’re looking at.”

Sithis shrugged and collapsed into one of the chairs around the edge of the room.

“We can only try our best. Our cause is right and the gods should be with us.”

“Ha!” Kiva dropped into the chair opposite and drew a flask from his tunic. Taking a heavy swig, he stoppered it and let it drop into his lap. For a moment his jaw set hard and Sithis noticed a slight twitch and then a shudder run through the general. Then Kiva breathed out heavily. “The gods won’t give me any help, Sithis. I abandoned them a long time ago, and they damn well abandoned me too.”

Sithis leaned forward in his chair.

“They never abandoned you, Caerdin. You northerners were always so damned superstitious. Those of us born here is the south believe in the gods as long as it’s convenient, but if they ever seem to be turning against us we just refuse to acknowledge their existence. It’s all quite convenient really.”

Kiva laughed out loud for a moment and then winced. Sithis folded his arms. “You’re not a well man, Kiva. I was going to suggest you get some sword practice in so I can see how well you’re coming along, but I see the answer without going through all that. How long have you been on the mare’s mead now? Two decades? Even the most idiotic doctors’ll only prescribe it on a month’s course.”

“You
know
why I take it and you know I was injured a little recently, so I’ve justifiably upped my intake a little.”

Sithis shook his head. “You’ve upped your intake dangerously. I’ve been watching you this morning while you were wandering round keeping an eye on things. Four times in two hours you’ve hit that and you’re not even sipping it; you’re swigging it. I know damn well that Mercurias isn’t giving you it and that doctor from the island seems to be far too above board for that. I’d be interested to know where you’re getting it all.”

“Never you mind. And don’t even think of telling anyone about this. Without doing this I’d still be hobbling around on sticks and I’d be no use to man nor beast. At least for the next month or so I’m going to have to be fully active and on top of things. Maybe then I can lay off and back down a little.”

Sithis shut his eyes and lowered his head. “You keep going like this for a month more and the only thing you’re going to be on top of is a pyre!”

Kiva growled. “It
has
to be done. I can’t stop now. Darius needs to be the Emperor in front of every man, woman and child in Hadrus and
I
need to be every inch the general. Appearances are half the battle here. And I’ve still too much of a part to play yet to dodder around on sticks.”

Sithis stood and wandered over to where the general sat. Reaching down, he prodded Kiva gently in the side. The general grunted and winced.