Interregnum (20 page)

Turus stared at the commander and then turned to look at the other two elders by the table. Sabian couldn’t see his face, but could imagine how it looked. He drew another breath and finished his proposal. “I need you to run an inventory along the same lines that I do on a biannual basis and detail the quantity of all your supplies so that we can work out a reasonable and fair split. In the meantime, I must go to address my troops. With the exception of blustering and complaining have you any comments?”

The minister turned once more to face Sabian.

“Are there any engineers among your men?”

The commander smiled.

It was late afternoon by the time Sabian finally reached the bathhouse and he imagined that the soldiers had probably waited over an hour. Still, it had been worth it. Once he’d actually got through the stubborn shell of Minister Turus, the man turned out to have a more than able command of administrative duties, as one would expect of someone who once held such an important position. As soon as Turus had started questioning, the other two elders had joined in and the ideas had begun to flow thick and fast. Darius had spent most of the time sat on one of the tables to one side watching with interest, but had occasionally piped up with his opinion, though only where it mattered and was of use. As Sabian had finally managed to excuse himself, the elders had continued to plan and prepare and had sent Darius to fetch the rest of the council.

The bathhouse had not been used since the end of the Empire and, though it was still intact, was sadly neglected and dilapidated. As the commander approached, he could smell the rank odour of fetid scummy water and damp plaster. It came as no surprise then when he rounded the corner to find his troops sat in groups on the lawn close by; he couldn’t blame them for not waiting inside. The spot itself was actually rather nice as long as the wind stayed how it was, carrying the aroma of decay away from the men. The bathhouse was one of at least four on the island, none of which were still in commission. This particular one was the largest; the one designed for the general community in the palace. There were two in the actual Imperial palaces that had served the Imperial household and there was one that had served the palace guard, but these were all also currently out of commission. This particular complex was next to the sea, with a fresh water channel that ran down from the cisterns in the palace proper. It stood outside the walls, with a small postern gate allowing access.

The troops struggled to their feet to come to attention as they saw their commander come round the corner of the bathhouse, but Sabian waved it aside and announced “at ease everyone.”

As the soldiers fell back onto the grass smiling, Sabian looked around. Spotting an old altar to the Goddess of hygiene leaning against the wall, he walked over and took a seat on it, crossing his legs. He was in uniform but unarmed and unarmoured, his equipment being locked away in the chest in his room.

“Gather round lads” he said and the men shuffled forward into a semicircle around their commander. “Ok” he began. “As of now you can consider yourself off-duty as soldiers. I’m sure you’re already sick to death of patrolling empty walls and grounds when you know there’s no enemy and no trouble, yes?”

There was a murmur of agreement and a small amount of joking and laughter.

“So we don’t really need guards or soldiers, yes?”

Again a buzz of general agreement.

The commander smiled. “So what we really need at the moment are skilled civilians. Supplies have not arrived as I’m sure you’re aware and we can’t keep living off the islanders’ supplies or in the end we’ll all starve. Whether our supplies arrive or not, we may be here for a long time and anything we can do to improve conditions on the island will improve things for us as well as for them. I take it you all see that, yes?”

The buzz returned, but died away as sergeant Iasus held his hand high.

“Sir,” the sergeant offered, “I know we’re being lenient on these people and there are to be no crucifixions or beatings, but is it really our job to help them improve their prison? Aren’t we just giving them false hope?”

Sabian smiled again. “False hope is better than no hope sergeant” he replied. “I for one want to be able to bathe. That’s going to be one of the first things to attend to, I think.”

He addressed the crowd in general once more. “I’ve spoken with minister Turus already and he’s preparing me a list of the islanders who have specialised skills. I need to do some working out with you lot too. I know that in the old days the Imperial army taught skilled trades to the soldiers as well as just fighting skills and I assume that some of you older ones are the product of that army, yes?” The murmur went around again.

Sabian sighed and produced a scrap of parchment that had seen better days and a stylus. ”Firstly, have any of you got any kind of engineering background.” Three hands went up, including sergeant Cialo. Sabian grinned. “Well done, Cialo. You’ve just volunteered to command the engineering section. Looks like you’ve two able seconds as well. That’s handy, cos I’ve three duties lined up for them.”

Cialo craned his neck to see two older veterans at the back with their hands raised. He turned back to the commander and returned the smile. “Let me guess sir: the bathhouse, yes?”

Sabian nodded. “First duty of the engineering detail. Clean out, repair and restore this bathhouse. You’ll need to do a lot of repair work on the aqueduct channels that run down to here as well as on the drainage pipes to the sea. The actual water source at the top must be in working order as the fountains in the courtyards have been repaired, though I gather as a source of fresh water rather than for decoration.” He took a deep breath. “Which leads me to the second engineering duty. The actual water-carriage system around the entire palace needs looking at. If they’ve had to restore the fountains for water, then there is some kind of blockage preventing the water from entering the buildings. This can be taken care of and then the buildings will have clean water again and maybe be can even work on the internal baths then. The third duty will be to survey the entire island. I want to know every piece of dangerous masonry, every conceivable landing point on the shore, where fishing jetties can be constructed and so on.” He coughed. “Are there any questions?”

Cialo grunted. “That’s a hell of a lot of work sir. Just how many people are you thinking of assigning?”

Sabian smiled. “I want you to ask for volunteers. Take forty men; the best you can find for the job. There are several locals who will be joining you, including the man responsible for the fountains. He probably knows this water system better than anyone. It’s up to you how you split the duties. They can all be done at once if you want to split them into three squads, or one after the other if you think that’s best. You’re the engineer.”

“The second detail,” he announced, returning his attention to the group as a whole, “will be responsible for repairs and decorating in various buildings. One of the palace elders already has a schedule of works that the islanders have been adhering to, so I see no reason to deviate from that. I’m thinking of maybe twenty men for that detail. Preferably those with some small level of skill in the area, but I don’t think we’ll be too fussy.” He pointed at a short rather plump soldier at the front. “Even Crispin here can wield a brush!” The group laughed.

“The third detail has the hardest work I think, but the most important job. Any of you who aren’t assigned to a group will need to join the workforce on the island and involve yourselves in farming, fishing and all other sources of food production. I’ll warn you against fishing until we’ve surveyed the coast unless you’ve a stout heart and you’re a damn good swimmer, but I’ll leave that up to you and your individual skills.”

He sighed and leaned back against the wall. “Now, I intend on keeping a small group still as guards and lookouts. Maybe a dozen men in three four-man rotating squads on eight hour shifts. That’ll be the last. Everyone should be involved then.” He looked down at Iasus. “Which of the other details do you want to take sergeant?”

Iasus looked up at the commander, distaste showing on his face. “I think I’d be happier leading the guard detail sir. It’s what I’m trained for.”

Sabian nodded. He couldn’t imagine Iasus the farmer anyway.

“Very well.” He handed the papyrus and stylus to Iasus and addressed the entire group. “The two sergeants will call for volunteers and assign squads. I’ll be joining the island’s council at least until Sarios is capable of the role again. When the groups are chosen and you’ve picked out a few leaders or representatives, get your men together and start planning. First thing in the morning I want a small deputation from each detail to come to the council of elders in the Raven Palace and discuss how we proceed.”

Leaving the group muttering and arguing, Sabian held his breath as he walked past the door of the bathhouse and toward the Water Gate on his way back to the palace. If nothing else at least he would be able to bathe soon and the troops would be kept busy and occupied. He remembered in the accounts of Caerdin’s northern campaigns that the army had been garrisoned throughout the winter and the troops were becoming increasingly restless and lazy. The general had set his entire army to building a wall of turf and timber that stretched fully twenty five miles across the Galtic Narrows that he’d defended a decade earlier. This was much the same principle though the conditions were greatly different. Thoughts of Caerdin inevitably led his mind back to the subject of Darius and he wondered where the boy was. There were a few hours before he needed to interrupt the elders, but other jobs he could be doing. He stopped for a moment by the dilapidated Imperial shrines and pondered where to go first. Probably best to visit Sarios he thought and, sighing gently, headed for the Raven Palace once more.

The minister was being kept in his rooms at the palace on the top floor, above the continually-used dining room. Sabian wondered whether they’d been the rooms he’d occupied twenty-some years ago. Probably, knowing the man. He made his way to the small rear door once more and turned left inside along one of the marble corridors whose windows looked out over pleasant greenery. At the end, a spiral staircase led up through both floors and down into the cellars. He climbed the steps, formulating in his mind a greeting for the leader of the island’s community and at the top made his way to the suite at the end of the corridor. The door was ajar and he could hear raised voices within. He paused before entering, listening to an argument in full swing inside. Two doctors disagreeing about treatments. Although he had precious little understanding of the detail of their conversation, one thing shone out clear: Velutio’s doctor was advising some safe slow course of action that would result in no harm to the minister but would leave him permanently blind in one eye. The island’s doctor was advocating some radical treatment that sounded very visceral to Sabian that might save the eye, but could put the man’s life in danger. He grunted. Not a conversation he felt inclined to stand in the middle of. Taking a deep breath again, he pushed the door open. It took a few moments for the two red-faced doctors to notice him and the argument stopped suddenly.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen” Sabian greeted them. “If I may, I would like to see your patient if he’s conscious.”

The island’s doctor, ‘Favio’ the commander seemed to remember, cleared his throat. “He’s conscious but resting in the next room.” He then turned and glared at the other doctor, who returned the look.

Sabian’s patience was rapidly wearing thin. He stood for a moment until they both looked back at him. He gestured angrily with his thumb and the two filed over to the door. Once they were standing before him he spoke, his tone a low menacing whisper. “Don’t you think you should be discussing things like this out of earshot of your patient? He’s half-blind, not deaf!” The two doctors looked at each other sheepishly and Velutio’s physician nodded. Sabian stepped to one side while the two doctors filed out into the corridor. He waited until they’d exited and slammed the door early, hard enough to hit one of them in the back.

He sighed and made his way to the bedroom door, which was shut. This room was less than opulent and mirrored the personality of its occupant perfectly. Functional would be Sabian’s description. He drew a long breath and rapped lightly on the door.

“Yes?”

Turning the handle, Sabian wasn’t sure what he’d expected from the inner sanctum of the island’s leader, but this certainly wasn’t it. The room was well-appointed but bore more of a resemblance to a shrine or a storage room than a chamber. Busts of the Emperors and great men lined one wall on innumerable shelves. The wall behind the bed was decorated with a fine mosaic map of the Empire at its height. A third wall bore more shelves containing numerous artworks of the highest quality, all of which had presumably been removed from places on the island and brought here to preserve them. The floor bore a huge mosaic of a raven surrounded by the incarnations of the old Provinces and the final wall contained three huge windows that lit the room. The only furniture inside were the bed, a small writing desk covered with documents, a chair and two altars, one to the protective spirits of the household and the other to the Imperial cult. In the midst of this veritable museum lay Sarios, half his head bandaged, propped up on pillows and cushions. The minister managed a weak smile as he recognised his visitor.