Part Three: Heroes and Villains

 

Chapter XIII.

 

Kiva leaned back against the farm gate and sighed. Bees buzzed around him, congregating among the multicoloured wild flowers by the roadside. The low hills above the coastal plain were one of Kiva’s favourite areas, though he rarely got a chance to spend time here. In fact one of the greatest battles of his career had been only a few miles from where he stood right now, around thirty years ago when the tribes of the Pula Mountains had finally managed to pull together under one leader and make a serious push into the Empire. It had been high summer then too, with bright golden sunshine pouring over the lush green hills and the sounds of bees and meadow fowl playing through the air. He scanned the horizon, a single piece of hay jutting from the corner of his mouth; he’d been around Marco far too long.

The rest of the unit sat on the grass verge opposite the stone farm building, sharing bread and flasks of who knew what while they rested their tired limbs and chattered away meaninglessly. Athas was the only alert one, keeping an eye on the road whence they’d come. Things had been quite comfortable on the journey toward the sea and no unpleasant surprises had caught them unawares in the last month of travelling. They’d had the best of the weather for the journey as in a couple of weeks the climate would become much more changeable and unpredictable as summer slid into autumn. Still, they’d be on the plains and in the towns long before then.

A voice caught his attention. Turning his head toward the path he saw Quintillian jogging toward him. It amazed him how adaptable the young man was. In just a month he’d become so entrenched in the life of the Grey Company that it was becoming difficult to remember what it was like before they’d found him. To look at him now one would hardly recognise the pasty, permanently unhappy youth that had crawled out of a thorn bush seeking aid and safety. A month of travelling in the summer sun had somewhat bleached his hair to a dark bronze and given his previously pale complexion a healthy glow. His muscles had bulked out considerably, largely due to the two hours of weapon practice a day the lad endured under whoever had time to tutor him. Indeed, the way he wore his swords; the hang of his armour; the comfortable pace when he ran all spoke of a man of arms. He’d become a soldier, there was no doubt about that.

“Captain…”

Kiva heaved himself from the wall.

“Septimus” he acknowledged Quintillian by the name the unit used on a daily basis. “Something amiss up front?”

Quintillian shook his head.

“Not amiss I think.” He smiled. “There are at least a dozen men about a mile away down the hill. Some of them are staying off the path in the bushes, and I think they’re waiting for us, but not in ambush.”

Kiva cocked an eyebrow. “And why’s that?” Obvious to him, but the lad needed testing every day in every way. The worrying thing was that he was progressing as a scout and a tactician faster that Kiva and the others could really teach him. He had a voracious appetite for learning.

Quintillian grinned. “A test, sir? Very well. Five of them are waiting on the path itself in the open. There’s so much cover in the area that they could easily have remained unseen to the last minute. Moreover, their horses are tethered in plain sight and without a guard, so they expect no trouble and aren’t preparing a quick escape route. I only counted two bows among them and they’re both on the road, not in good positions for picking travellers off. Shall I go on?”

Kiva laughed. He hadn’t laughed a lot in the last couple of decades, but for some reason Quintillian brought out something in him he hadn’t seen in a great length of time.

“Ok, I believe you. You know what you’re doing.”

Quintillian sheathed the knife he’d been carrying, a curious habit he seemed to have picked up from Mercurias, and his grin widened. “There’s one other give-away about them…”

Kiva raised his eyebrow again and the lad continued. “Two of the ones in the road are rather familiar. Big man with a shaven head and a heavy scarf round his neck and a smaller man sweating his life out under a bear skin cloak.”

The captain grinned. “So Tythias caught up with us after all. Still, it’s taken him a month. Wonder what he wants?”

Quintillian squared his shoulders and placed his hands on the weapon pommels at his hips. Shall I run out ahead? I wonder if he’ll recognise me.”

Kiva smiled. “I’ll get the rest of this lot and follow on. You take Athas down with you.” He turned in the direction of the bulky sergeant who remained transfixed on the path behind them and opened his mouth to call out but the sergeant pre-empted him without looking.

“I know… I heard. I’ve been traded to the boy.”

The big dark-skinned man turned and his white teeth shone in a warm smile. Again Kiva pondered. While his own relationship with Quintillian had improved and the two of them talked as though they were members of the same unit, there was always a strained undercurrent. He knew the boy wanted something more from him but the conversation had never arisen since that day in the temple ruins. As long as he and the lad travelled together, there would always be an element of discomfort that they would have to ignore.

The captain had always tended to spend the nights separate from his men. Not far away but separate nonetheless; he slept little and had a propensity to wander. Quintillian, on the other hand, seemed to have hooked up particularly with Athas, Marco, Brendan and Bors. The five of them were always together in the evening playing dice, telling stories or just talking. Kiva was fairly sure that the lad had been working his ideas of a return to glorious Imperialism on the company, since he was forbidden to speak of it to the captain. Still, that bunch were prone to romantic notions anyway so what difference would it make?

With a shrug, the captain watched the sergeant wandering off down the path with the young man by his side amid the flowers and bees and the gentle heat haze. It was hard to imagine two more physically different individuals. He cleared his throat. “Ok you lot” he shouted. “Pack up; time to move. There’s some old friends down the road waiting for us and I want to get to Carmana before dark.”

The company stood, stretching their legs and hoisting their armour and packs into position. As he turned back to the wall to collect his own swords, he caught Mercurias for a moment staring at him in an odd, curiously knowing way and made a note to ask the medic about it later.

By the time the rest of them were on the move, Athas and the lad were already down in the dip with Tythias and his men. Kiva crested the hill with Thalo at his side and was intrigued to note that still not all the ‘Lion Riders’ were on the path and in the open. A number remained in the bushes and, despite Quintillian’s good eyes, he’d missed three more that remained on watch around a half mile out from the meeting. What the hell was Tythias being so careful about? Who’d he angered this time?”

As Kiva approached the group on the road, he motioned Thalo and Scauvus to either side and the two ran off toward the scouts away in the trees.

“Tythias,” he said as he came to a halt. “Nice to see you again. What’s all this in aid of?” He gestured around at the Lion Riders among the bushes.

The scarred mercenary reached out and clasped Kiva’s hand. Curiously his customary smile was absent. Kicking himself for his over confidence, Kiva’s smile faded too in anticipation of the worst.

The captain of the Lion Riders stood beside the big brute he remembered from the Inn at Acasio. The mute made a hollow whistling noise and nodded.

“Tregaron.” There was not a hint of the usual humour about Tythias’ greeting and Kiva’s hand found its way unconsciously to the hilt of his sword, where his fingers played on the pommel. Tythias folded his arms. “I could have saved myself a lot of work if I’d paid more attention to your young ‘Septimus’ back in Acasio. I’ve been looking all over for him for a couple of weeks now without really knowing who it was I was looking for.”

A quick glance to either side confirmed that the Grey Company were all ready for trouble, though no blade had actually been drawn yet. “Go on…” prompted Kiva.

“We’re here for him, I’m afraid. Velutio’s paying a thousand corona for the boy that travels with your company and he’s not particularly fussy over the state he’s returned in. In fact, I think he suggested a preference for dead.”

Kiva reached out with his right hand and pushed Athas’ hand down, forcing the blade the big man was starting to draw back into the sheath.

“Whoever you think he is” Kiva answered, “he’s one of my company and you can’t have him.”

Tythias shook his head and held his hands out. “I was kind of hoping you’d have dumped him by now. I can’t pass up on a thousand, but there’s five hundred more for the unit he travels with that I’d prefer not to collect.”

Kiva smiled, though there was no humour in it. “Tythias, don’t start this. You won’t win. We’ve never fought each other; not properly. Anyway, you were a commander of men in the noblest service on the planet, man. We’re old comrades. You took an oath, remember?”

Tythias shook his head. “I remember the oath. Hell, it was under you I took it, but the world has changed Kiva. If I don’t claim the reward someone else will and they won’t be half as reasonable about it as me!”

Athas stepped in front of Quintillian. The boy had said nothing so far, but his hands were twitching around the hilts of his swords and he was glaring at the captain of the Lion Riders. The big sergeant frowned at the mute in front of him. “How about you, whitey? You feel like another try?”

Jorun shook his head and made an “Ah… aghk” noise as he pointed at the boy. He turned to Tythias and shook him by the shoulder. “Aghk! Ah... ah… ah!”

Tythias ignored him.

“Kiva, what’s happened to you? A thousand gold for him? You’ve never passed up an offer like that in your life. I could be persuaded to split it…”

The burly barbarian continued to shake his captain until Tythias’ head snapped round angrily. “What is it you great idiot?”

Jorun pointed desperately at the boy. “Akk!” he shouted.

Athas stepped to one side and with only a momentary glance at Kiva, addressed Tythias. “I think what your big friend here is trying to tell you is that he knows who the boy is.”

Kiva turned sharply and gave Athas a barely-perceptible shake of the head, but the sergeant shook his own in reply. “It’s no good captain. Now his hair’s changed colour, he’s unmistakable.”

Kiva’s attention was drawn back to his opposite number by a whistle.

“Hell and fucking Gods!” exclaimed Tythias. “You mean…”

Athas nodded. “Why else do you think Velutio would pay that kind of scratch for a boy? He’s not that way inclined.”

“Holy Hell!” Tythias swung round away from them, throwing his hands onto his head and rubbing his scalp as he considered the situation. One of the younger members of his group shrugged. “Who is he?”

Tythias laughed and Kiva was pleased to spot a note of hysteria in there. “Who is he? He’s the fucking Emperor! Or he would be. Or will be. Or something. Shit, Kiva. How’d you land yourself in this?”

Before Kiva could reply the young Lion Rider piped up “There’s no Empire any more so does it matter who he is?”

Tythias motioned to Jorun and the big barbarian slapped the young man round the side of the head with a hand the size of a dinner plate. The outspoken mercenary collapsed to the floor, his eyes rolling up into his head as he fell.

Tythias laughed again. “Does it matter? Does it matter?”

Kiva smiled. “See the kind of shit life throws at me Tythias?”

Again Jorun tugged on Tythias’ sleeve and made a hollow questioning sound. Tythias turned to him and nodded. “We all used to take the oath, of course I took it. And it still damn well applies now, yes.” He fell silent as he glanced back at Kiva. “Of course it might not apply to you.”

Kiva growled and the other captain shook his head. “Never mind. We can’t take this bounty; we’ll have to head west again around the coast. Can’t have Velutio find out we’ve let his prize escape or he’ll have the next bounty out on us.” He stepped close to Kiva and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Be very careful now Kiva. We’ll get out of here, but you’re walking into a world full of trouble. There must be fifteen or twenty mercenary units between here and the city looking for you at the moment, and then there’s plenty of ordinary folk who’ll drop you in it for Velutio. He’s offering too much for you to rely on friends.”

Kiva shook his head. “There’s one place I know I’m safe. Just need to get there.”

Tythias looked at him silently for a long moment and then nodded once. “I’m going home for the time being, so if you run into too much trouble you know where to find us.” Kiva nodded. ‘Home’ to the Lion Riders meant the old Imperial fortress of Vengen in the North West; Tythias truly was getting out of the way. The scarred captain turned and then stopped as a thought crossed him. “You’re heading to Serfium I presume?” Without waiting for an answer, he shook his head. “Fair enough, but don’t go through Carmana. I presume that’s the way you’re heading, but Janus and his Spear Company are waiting there in the hopes you’ll pass by. Find another way around.”

Kiva nodded. “I’ll do that.” As the two clasped arms and smiled, Tythias lowered his voice and said “what are you going to do with him?”

Kiva shrugged. “I really don’t know yet. Maybe take him back home.”

Another nod and the two captains separated. Kiva raised one eyebrow as Tythias drew his sword and walked across the path towards his horse. Halfway across the cracked dirt track, he paused and thrust the blade down between the shoulder blades of the unconscious young mercenary from his unit. He turned briefly as he wiped the blade and noted the quizzical look on his opposite’s face.

“He didn’t understand the oath. I won’t have men of no morals in the Lion Riders. See you on the other side, General Caerdin.” Grinning, he climbed onto his horse and called to the rest of his men, who also began to move. Jorun, the big barbarian with the wrecked throat paused, staring at Athas and the boy. Tythias frowned. “Come on you big ape.”

Jorun looked back over his shoulder momentarily and then grinned at the big black sergeant. He stepped forward and held his hand out. With a smile of genuine surprise, Athas took the hand and shook it, releasing as the big man stepped away. As Jorun backed up next to his huge cart horse he stopped, looking at Quintillian and bowed deeply before straightening and climbing on to the horse. Tythias looked across at Kiva and smiled. “You northerners are all far too bloody sentimental you know that?”

With that the Lion Riders cantered off into the scrubland and were gone in minutes. Athas motioned to the unit to prepare to move out, just as Thalo and Scauvus returned from the bushes. Kiva stretched his back and called out for the unit’s attention. “We’re changing route again. Tythias is right: Carmana’s too dangerous. There’s a village about three miles from here and we’re going to make for it and stay at the small inn there. There’ll be no carousing though, cos I want everyone asleep long before sunset. We’re going to leave again at midnight and travel in the dark from now on. It’ll be two or three days from there to Serfium and I’m damn determined to make it there without running into any of Velutio’s dogs. Now move out!”

And with that the Grey Company began to move once more, with Marco and Quintillian heading out to the front as scouts. Athas walked alongside Kiva for a while in silence until he suddenly turned to the captain.

“You really don’t know what to do about him do you?”

Kiva sighed. “Do we have to have this conversation again?”

The big sergeant grunted. “You’ve got to decide before we get to Serfium. You know you won’t cast him adrift to fate there.”

“For fuck’s sake Athas,” Kiva rounded on him, “what do you want me to do? Adopt him? Crown him? You know as well as I do that there’s no way we can face off against the big lords. It doesn’t matter how noble a cause you follow if your enemy has a hundred times your number. Now give your jaw a rest and forget about it.”

Without a word, Athas glared at his captain and then dropped back to play rearguard once more. Kiva’s sigh of relief came too soon as Mercurias glanced over his shoulder and then slowed his pace, dropping back to walk alongside the captain. Kiva frowned at him.

“What is this, some kind of nagging relay?”

Mercurias prodded Kiva in the shoulder and pointed out to the grass at one side of the path. “Get out of line. We’ll catch up with them in a minute.”

Kiva looked for a moment as though he’d argue, but in the end shrugged and stepped aside onto the springy turf. As Athas went past frowning at him and the column slowly trooped on along the road, Mercurias stood face to face with the captain and pointed his finger at him, inches from Kiva’s nose.

“You listen here Kiva Caerdin. I’m a little bit older that you and a hell of a lot more sensible. Athas is absolutely right: you need to make some decisions before we reach Serfium. Your men are slipping away from you, you know?”

Kiva raised one eyebrow as he folded his arms and the medic went on. “Quintillian is the most important thing any of us has seen in more than twenty years and he’s got the touch. The sentimental and the optimistic are already forming their own ideas and making their own decisions about him. If you can’t control the situation, you’re going to lose men at Serfium and I won’t allow that.”

“You won’t allow that?” interrupted Kiva.

“No. They’re my unit and my friends as well as yours. You’re a good commander. Hell, you’re one of the best, but the time’s come to stop being bitter and pessimistic and actually strive for something. Tell me honestly, do you still have even the faintest intention of sending him off in a boat at Serfium?”

Kiva glared at the grizzled medic for a while and eventually shook his head. “Mercurias, I don’t want to see the lad sent back to his island. Hell if we did that he’d be dead in a week, as soon as Velutio found out he was back. On the other hand, Velutio wants me dead, so I’m a liability to him. Where can we take him? He might have been better going with Tythias up to Vengen. At least he’d be safely out of the way there.”

Mercurias nodded. “At least now you’re thinking. So you don’t want to send him back to the island, but you don’t want to travel with him. You’re ruling things out… keep going.”

Kiva glanced across in annoyance, but the medic was absolutely right, and so was Athas. He’d apologise to the sergeant later. “I know what the men want to do. I heard Brendan the other night when he’d had a few too many battering on about a war and a new Empire and so on, but that’s just not feasible.” He held up his hands in supplication. “There’ll be a new Empire soon enough, but it’ll be Velutio’s, and then the rest of us’ll have to find places of exile. Velutio’s the only one with enough of a power base. Every war we fight makes the other lords weaker, while he just keeps getting stronger. Every month another lord swears fealty to him and it’s almost got to the point now where he’s more powerful than all the others put together. It doesn’t matter how good our cause is, we’ve no hope of going up against someone like him and time’s almost up.”

Mercurias nodded. “Fair enough. You can’t send him home, you can’t keep travelling with him and you’re not ready to start a war. What’s left then?”

“I really don’t know. Why d’you think I haven’t made a fucking decision? I’m just hoping we can get to Serfium safely. I’ve got plenty of friends there and we’ll find out a lot more about what’s going on then. We can’t make any kind of move, but we can’t delay forever. What would you do?”

Mercurias shrugged. “I don’t make command decisions. I’m a medic, remember? If I could plan like that, I’d have been a commander.”

The two began to walk fast, catching up with the unit, already a long way down the path. As they walked in silence with Mercurias quietly humming an old tune, Kiva’s mind churned possibilities constantly. It was true that the unit suddenly felt different these past few weeks. They’d always got by as they were, but now the men were adrift and looking for some kind of purpose and he really couldn’t work out what direction that should be. If there were some way to break Velutio’s power then the world of opportunity would open up in front of them, but that was such a massive undertaking with no real chance of success. Hell, he was a cursed man; a deicide. The fates were unlikely to be kind to him.

Perhaps he could go home. He’d not been in his native northlands since he was young and energetic. He couldn’t even remember how to speak their language these days, but at least the boy should be safe there. Maybe he could leave him there and then the company could get back to its business. He grunted in annoyance and reached down, clutching his side. The pain was back. For some reason it always got worse when he was angry, but it was getting noticeably more regular and more painful as the years passed. He reached into his tunic and pulled out his flask, taking a swig of the nectar within and feeling the numbing warmth envelop the sharp sting beneath his ribs. He looked up to see Mercurias watching him.

“You never let me look at that” the medic complained.

Kiva shrugged. “Nothing you could do. Nothing anyone can do.”

“How the hell do you know?”

“I spent a while in a temple when it happened, remember? A very good surgeon looked me over and decided it was too close to my liver to touch and the muscle was healing around it. Even if I sneeze it grazes me. Can’t be removed, so I’ve just got to live with it.”

Mercurias snorted. “Just like you then.”

Kiva glanced sidelong at the medic and smiled humourlessly. “I’m going ahead to talk to Quintillian. You just keep your funny comments to yourself.”

With that he jogged on ahead, wincing with each step as the pain hadn’t quite subsided yet. As he passed the rest of the unit and they acknowledged him with nods and salutes, he noted once again the subtle change in the men. They looked different, and not necessarily in a good way. The carefree smiles they habitually wore had been replaced by looks of concern and thoughtfulness. Perhaps it’d have been better if the boy had never found them.

Quintillian was only a hundred yards ahead of the group. He and Marco were walking side by side deep in conversation when Kiva dropped to a walking pace beside them. With a quick glance at the boy, he nodded to Marco. “Go back and join the others. I’m taking point until we get to the village.”

As Marco nodded and slowed to let the rest of the unit catch up, Kiva settled in to walk along side the lad.

“I’ve been thinking about what happens when we get to Serfium. You want to go back to Isera. Now I know Isera. Used to spend quite a lot of time there and I know that it’s part of the demesne of Velutio. Going back there is just going back into captivity and, worse, Velutio now has your death warrant ordered, so he’s unlikely to let you live even if you go back voluntarily. I assume you used one of the old Imperial escape routes to get off the island. If we’re very lucky I might recognise the route since I’ve used them before, but very few know of them. There are a couple of people in Serfium that’ll know how to get there, but it doesn’t solve the problem of why you’d want to go back. Tell me.”

He looked ahead as they crested a hill and spotted the smoke from the chimneys of the village around half a mile away. “And give me the short version.”

Quintillian sighed. “I’m not going to be safe anywhere now captain. It strikes me that the safest place for an escaped prisoner to hide is in his cell. It is, after all, the last place the guards would look. Sarios and the elders would hide me away. It may not be a permanent solution, but it’s the best I can think of.”

Kiva nodded. “In theory it’s all well and good but now that Velutio knows you escaped from the island, you can bet there’s a garrison there and though Sarios is a very subtle and clever man, he can’t hide you for long on a patrolled island the size of Isera. There’s got to be another way forward, but I just can’t think of it yet.”

Quintillian smiled. “Well while that tactical brain of yours is coming up with a solution, what better place for us to be than in Serfium, where you used to live and on Isera where I have many friends.” He frowned. “Are we on terms where I can ask you personal questions yet captain?”

Kiva sighed. It was another one of those trying days. “Go on. If it’s too personal I’ll tell you, don’t worry.”

Quintillian swallowed nervously. He’d been avoiding certain subjects for so long he wasn’t sure whether he was comfortable asking about them. “It’s about your estate there. In Serfium” he added with an inherent question.

“Not a subject likely to endear you.”

“No.” Quintillian raised his brows. “But I think you owe it to me to tell me something. I know that we’re related you see.”

Kiva frowned. “We’re not related. You’re related to… her.”

“Livilla.” Quintillian nodded. “But that makes you a relation of sorts. “I want to know what happened when my uncle died. I’ve read the histories, but Mercurias keeps telling me that they never give the whole story, and it’s the story of my family and their friends, so I’d rather like to know the truth.

Kiva glanced aside at the boy. His speech had become noticeably easier and less fancy during his time with the company. It made him easier to listen and talk to.

“Livilla was your uncle’s cousin; she was quite a woman. Had all the power and intelligence of your family, but no pretensions.” He realised how insulting that must sound. “Sorry. No offence meant, but it’s hard to wield infinite power without acquiring a few pretensions. Your uncle was like a brother to me; had been ever since the early days and I spent a lot of time on Isera with him and his court. Well I’m not going into too many details, but Livilla and I were wed in the spring and in the winter I was sent on campaign in the west. When I came back during the thaw I couldn’t help but note a decline in Quintus. He spent a lot of time alone brooding and the palace servants began to disappear. I guess I just kept fooling myself into thinking nothing was wrong. I was distracted at the time, you see, as Livilla and I had a son that month. I called him Quintus after your uncle, you know? They were good days for me, but it didn’t last long. Over the next couple of months things just got too bad and a number of the Emperor’s close advisors began to turn against him. He was seeing plots and conspiracies everywhere and because of the way he reacted to them, they came to be real. The court members who were frightened of your uncle spoke to the senate and they condemned him for a madman; imprisoned him on his own island. The man they sent with an army to deal with him was one of my peers, General Avitus. I was outraged when I heard and I left the training camp at Munda and marched on Velutio with my men. We routed Avitus’ rebels and restored Quintus to the throne in the city. It all looked good again for a month or so, but then even I had to admit there was something very wrong. There were accusations of treason and random executions in the city. People started to live in fear like they had under the Emperor Basianus. That’s when I was sent on a punitive expedition and told to burn a city. I disobeyed my orders and marched back to the city, demanding your uncle withdraw his order, but he wouldn’t. He accused me of conspiring against him and tried to have several senators and senior officers, including me, executed. In the end, I sent my army back to Munda, dismissed the palace guard while he was relaxing in his new Golden Palace and put an end to it. You and your mother were safely away in the city at the time.”

He took a deep breath. Quintillian realised how much speaking of this was hurting the captain and held up his hand. “I’m sorry captain. I shouldn’t…” Kiva waved him aside.

“You should know” he replied, “and I’ve not told the story in two decades. They say a trouble shared is a trouble halved, yes?”

When the lad nodded, Kiva took up the story once more.

“I left the island, probably by the very same route you did, and went back to Serfium. I was quite distraught as you can imagine, and went to spend time with Livilla and the boy. Unfortunately Avitus had been vindicated by what I did and he came back to power very quickly, getting one of the other Marshals on his side. He started killing people off in the city; anyone who opposed him in any way met the sword. I was a recluse while all this was happening but the last Marshal, Covis, took up his troops and went to stop Avitus. They ended up fighting just north of the city around Serfium. I was out at the time…”

Kiva swallowed and Quintillian looked up at him in concern. He was about to ask the captain to stop once more when the story tumbled out again.

“I went for a ride in the hills to think. I only realised something was wrong when I saw all the smoke, so I turned and charged back to the town, but I was too late. Covis’ army were annihilated around the town and the damage was immense. I’m probably selfish to think of it in the terms I do, cos a lot of villas were torched and many of the people in the town itself were killed out of hand, but it was my villa that I couldn’t take my eyes off. It was an inferno when I arrived and Avitus’ troops were marching away. It was nearly four hours before the house was safe enough to get into. They were all there. All of them. The servants, the animals and in one of the dining rooms Livilla and the boy.” Again the captain stopped, his voice having deteriorated to a croak.

Quintillian, his face deadly serious, grasped Kiva’s arm. “I read about the rest, you don’t need to tell me.”

Kiva smiled weakly. “I’ll not go into detail. You know how I fight, so you can picture the scene. I went back to the city. He was still calling himself Avitus then; didn’t change to Velutio until he dismissed the senate a few months later and took control of the city. He’d had most of the people of any power killed, including your mother and, as far as we all knew, you. To be honest, until you mentioned him I’d presumed Sarios to be among the victims. I wonder how many others are still alive on your island that were supposedly killed in the city. Anyway, I sought out Avitus and we fought for quite a time. I was always better than him, but I wasn’t in my right mind at the time and not as capable as I should have been. I let him get the better of me and he stuck me in the gut with a knife. I fell off the wall we were fighting on and somehow managed to land in a midden, so I didn’t hurt myself further. By the time Velutio got down there to finish me off, I’d gone. I made my way back to Serfium and to the temple there. I don’t know how long I spent there, but it was probably a month. The knife came out easily enough, but he’d chipped a shard of bone off my rib and it’d worked its way in to rest on my liver. Never been right since, but I’m still alive.”

He turned and looked down into the boy’s eyes.

“I think that’s pretty much it. You know more now than most people, as much as the rest of the company. Athas found me in the temple, you see. The Wolves had come looking for me after they heard about the fire. After that we left the lowlands and disappeared from the world of Velutio.” He smiled and added “until now.”

Quintillian nodded. “Velutio should pay for everything he’s done. And one day I’ll make sure he does.”

Kiva smiled at him and looked up and around at the outskirts of the village. “Right now let’s get into the inn and have some food. And maybe a drink. I once introduced your uncle to a drink my people make in the mountains. It used to be hard to get, but it’s a lot more common now, so we might get a shot or two.”

Quintillian grinned as they headed for the inn door. “If it’s the stuff that Athas drinks, I’ve tried it. It tastes like it’s already been drunk once.”

As Kiva laughed and opened the inn door a voice from within called “General Caerdin. I thought you must have got lost.”