Interregnum (56 page)

Darius blinked and Tythias started making opposing motions with his hands, but Kiva leaned further forward and pointed. “You’re going to
have
to go out again. Have a day or two’s respite; in fact, wait until your recruits get here, but then you need to head out again. Just to the lowlands; to the lords nearby who could be swayed with the right moves. With the Emperor and an honour guard and captains of the Wolves with you, you might be able to almost double our force. I really can’t pass up that chance.”

He turned to Sathina. “I’m sorry, and I know you’ve been looking forward to seeing Tythias again, but this is too important and at least he’s not going to be heading into disputed areas this time.”

Sathina nodded placidly. ”General, I’m as much a part of this now as any of your men. I’d be stupid to let my personal feelings get in the way.”

The general and the innkeeper’s girl watched each other for the moment and then both nodded, but Tythias leaned across the table from his side, a wide grin splitting his face.

“I’ve a better idea. A military Emperor is what these people need, but what they
want
is pomp and grandeur. If Darius comes out with us, he needs to
be
an Emperor. He needs a retinue. Let Sarios and Sathina pick out a court to go with him. It’ll make the lords feel more important if an entire Imperial court visits and they can be part of it. Sathina can go with me.”

He turned his smile on the pretty girl. “That is, if you can cope with living in pampered luxury for a week or two…”

Kiva snorted. “Ok. I don’t disagree. Once you two have got your lovey reunion over, go and see Sarios and sort it out. You leave the day after the new recruits arrive.” He turned to Darius and grinned. “Sorry to lumber you with the lovebirds for a fortnight, but I daresay you can talk to Brendan and Athas and ignore these two.”

Darius returned the smile and straightened. “That everything then? I…”

His sentence remained unfinished, as a breathless and dusty figure arrived in the doorway and saluted unsteadily.

“Sir… Highness, there’s a small unit just coming up the hill t’ward the gate! No one we’re expecting, sir.”

Kiva slammed his fist on the table. “No-one knows where we are expect the people we’re expecting. Tythias, you must have been followed.”

Tythias bridled. “We were well clear of any of Velutio’s army or allies. If someone followed us they must have been near here anyway or very well hidden.”

The Emperor in waiting pushed past his general, grumbling. “If you two are just going to argue,
I’ll
go and see who it is.”

Darius strode out into the square, across the packed earth and stone, and up to the gate with his command group around him. The sentries on the gate had turned the massive bolt throwers down toward the path leading up the mountainside. The officers climbed the wooden stairs to the top and spread out along the battlements.

“Can you identify them? They’ve no flag” the young man muttered to his companions.

Kiva, next to him growled unpleasantly. “Oh, I can identify them alright. That’s Phythian and his archers.”

“Phythian?” the young man stepped back. “The man who gave you to Velutio?”

“The very bastard. Wonder what he’s doing here.” He gestured to one of the guards manning the huge bolt throwers. “Point that thing at the pompous ass down there and if he so much as blinks, let loose.”

The unit of crossbowmen, almost a score strong, reigned in their horses not far from the gate and their commander, his fetching grey silk clothing stained brown with the dust.

“General Caerdin!” he called from the path. “We need to talk.”

Kiva laughed derisively. “So talk! This gate’s not opening until I know why you’re here and make it fast. Convince me not to have you shot here and now.”

Phythian laughed mirthlessly and swung sideways in his saddle, crossing his legs. “I’ve run out of time for Velutio. He’s not a good employer and, to be honest, a little impatient and bloodthirsty even for me and my boys. Funny thing is: I’ve been hearing a lot of rumours recently that General Caerdin had resurfaced with a claimant to the throne. This I really had to see, since I’d last seen the good general being crucified and his claimant to the throne had gone the way of all flesh.”

Darius nudged Kiva and the general realised his growling had been growing rather loud. He glared down at Phythian as the man continued.

“You’re a very hard man to find, Caerdin. But I’d had my doubts about the Wolves that day in Serfium. I couldn’t see your old ally Tythias butchering your men, so I just asked around until I found the Lion Riders and then followed them. You see, I think I’d rather throw in my lot with you and whatever potential Emperor you’ve got than help Velutio get to a point where he’s the only employer there is. What d’you say?”

Kiva growled again in frustration and muttered among the others at the gate top “I don’t trust him or like him, but we could really do with some good trained crossbowmen. They’re few and far between.” He reached into a pocket and removed a small copper coin, tossing it into the air where it tinkled to the floor of the gatehouse. He looked down. “Heads,” he declared as he straightened and looked over to the soldier at the siege engine. “Kill him.”

Phythian slipped from the saddle smoothly and dropped behind the horse. “He’s a good horse. It’d be a shame to pierce him. Besides, Caerdin; I know you hate me, but I can be
very
useful to you. Can you afford to put the good of your new Emperor aside just for the pleasure of doing away with me?”

Kiva grunted and smacked his fist into his palm. “The bastard’s right. I can’t afford to turn them away.” He leaned over the parapet.

“You’d have to swear the old oath to the Emperor, the People and the Gods, and take another oath to me and mine as your commanders if I even consider this.”

Whatever Phythian said in reply was lost entirely as Kiva was hauled bodily around by his young Emperor. Darius, a hand on the general’s shoulder, shook him. An angry glint flashed in his eyes. “You can’t seriously be considering taking this fucking traitor in, general? I won’t have him in the army.”

Kiva stared back at him. “We can’t turn down good trained men. We’re not strong enough for that.”

“Then take his men if they’ll join,” Darius growled, “but not him!”

“What about him then? I’d like to put a four foot iron bolt through him, but that’s not going to inspire his men to join us. Velutio works on fear, not us. Our force grows and stays together because of loyalty.”

Darius nodded. “You’re right, but treachery needs to be dealt with too.” The young Emperor leaned over the parapet in his full paraphernalia and glared down at the assembled folk below. “Captain Phythian? You’re accused of treason, the unlawful confinement of innocent men and the murder of five of the Wolves, loyal servants of the Empire. I can either have you executed right now, or you can try and prove your innocence against your accuser?”

Kiva hauled the young Emperor back from the battlements. “Are you mad? He’s not the best swordsman I know, but he’s been fighting battles for twenty years or more. We can’t afford to lose you over a whim like this!”

Darius grinned. “I’m a good swordsman, general. Believe me when I say I can handle myself and it’ll do a lot for morale if I can pull this off.”

Kiva shook his head. “Don’t be fucking stupid. If you lose, the whole world loses!”

“Then I’d best not lose” the young man replied with a smile. “The challenge is given, so I can’t really back out now, can I?”

Without waiting for Kiva’s reply, he pulled away from him and leaned over the battlements once more. “Your answer?”

Phythian grinned. “I don’t quite see it the same as you, your
highness
.” He leaned back in the saddle. “And I’m not really sure that killing an Emperor is a good thing, but I suppose it did Caerdin no harm. I accept your challenge.”

On the battlements, Kiva punched the stone wall so hard he drew blood from every knuckle. He growled and grumbled under his breath.

Darius stood straight once more and called out in a clear voice “open the gate and make the arena ready!”

Darius was aware, as the officers left the wall and the gates were swung open, of a malicious silence from the commander of his forces. Glancing sidelong at Kiva, he realised that the general was glaring at him. A month ago he would have made no decisions, particularly as important as this one, but it was the general’s fault when all was said and done. Caerdin had been teaching and grooming him to take the position he was now in; they
all
had really, so they could hardly complain when he acted like the man he was expected to be. He
knew
that there were risks. He’d never fought to the death on his own; never fought a live target except during the escape from Isera, but this was something that, while it had risk, could also boost the morale of every man in Hadrus and, if the word got out, would put him that little higher on the Imperial pedestal. Darius was well aware that he was not born to the position, and had never aspired to it, but he’d read the histories; he knew the great Emperors. In earlier, more settled times, the Emperors Titus and Sarinus had both led their armies from the front; had both fought duels and made a name for themselves as personal combatants, and that was one thing that had made them great and popular. Velutio was too powerful to take on by sheer strength of arms; Darius would have to have the people behind him to make it through this. Another glance at the general as they strode across the square spoke volumes. The way Kiva watched him suggested the ageing general was sharing much the same thoughts.

The arena, though makeshift, was a fairly solid affair. The warden of the Imperial prison here had had it constructed for rebellious prisoners to fight each other. This was an Imperial prison, so they would never fight to the death, as the Emperors would occasionally have a change of heart and pardon someone, but there would be blood. Today, in the earth and timber arena, there would be blood again. Hopefully not Imperial blood.

Phythian’s men were escorted, not quite as prisoners, to the edge of the arena, where they stood and watched their captain stride through the entrance. He’d left his crossbow and cloak outside and drew a long, narrow blade, flexing it and giving it a few practice swings. Behind him the huge timber gate was slid shut.

The other end of the arena remained open for long minutes as crowds of the men of Hadrus drifted in to the surrounding area, taking their place on the slope and vying for the best view of the sandy ground. Within minutes the expectant hum grew to become deafening as the command unit pushed their way to the front. Athas literally pushed men aside to make room for the general and his companions. Kiva stood watching the arena, his brows knitted together in unhappy concentration. Darius, the showman he was becoming, was waiting for the prime moment to enter.

And that moment came. The hum had died away, leaving a low susurration that permeated the air around the killing ground. Into the almost silence strode Darius, in his full armour with the shoulder pelt hanging from his sword arm side. His bronze breastplate shone in the early autumn sunlight as he stepped quietly to the mark that had been drawn in the sand. Removing his sword from its sheath, he swung the curved, northern blade a few times, stretching his arm muscles as the wooden gate was slid shut behind him.

The whispering died away into silence and Kiva watched intently, his knuckles white and his fingernails biting into the wooden perimeter. Next to him, Athas patted him on the shoulder.

“He’s good. He really is.”

“I bloody hope so,” the general muttered, as the two men in the sandy oval started to walk slowly toward one another.

“He is, and he’s got something to prove too. Better he does it here in these conditions than on a battlefield against a dozen.”

Kiva grunted, his eyes fixed on the action before him, and shook his head as Darius picked up speed, making a run against his opponent. “Too soon.”

The general looked away momentarily as Phythian danced lightly aside. Darius hadn’t even swung his blade. Pirouetting gracefully, Darius came to a halt several feet from his opponent. Phythian smiled and flexed his sword once more. He spoke in lowered tones that would not be heard by the watching crowd. “I know you don’t think much of me, young Emperor, but remember that it’s a hard world out there and you do what you have to do to keep yourself and your unit afloat. It will give me absolutely no pleasure to draw your blood, let along kill you.”