Chapter XIV.

 

Kiva’s hand went straight to his sword hilt, as did Quintillian’s by his side. The interior of the inn was dark despite the sun still being high, and in the shadows to the side of the door a single figure sat behind a heavy oak table, cradling a glass between his hands. He appeared to be the sole occupant apart from the innkeeper who remained behind the bar, nervously polishing drinking vessels. Kiva allowed a moment for his eyes to adjust and could hear the rest of the Grey Company approaching the door outside. He squinted into the low light and his eyebrow rose in surprise.

The figure at the table was tall and thin, turning the glass back and forth between long elegant fingers. Dressed in a knee-length surcoat and robe of black silk, with a winged horse picked out in gold, he was an imposing sight. His face was swarthy and clean shaven with dark, piercing eyes that peered out beneath straight, perfect brows and Quintillian found it extremely hard to place his age. The stranger’s hair was long, dark and straight, held back from his eyes with a thin, plain coronet of gold. He smiled in a predatory fashion.

Kiva frowned, his hand not leaving the pommel of his sword.

“I thought it might be you when you launched that attack on us back near Acasio. Athas found one of your men’s weapons. You’re as subtle as ever, my Prince.”

The swarthy man nodded slightly.

“And you, Caerdin, are not as subtle as you once were.” The man’s eyes drifted to Quintillian and the smile widened showing perfect white teeth with curiously prominent canines. “And this is the boy. First time I’ve seen him up close.” His accent was noticeably eastern, but with perfect tone. Quintillian spoke to Kiva without tearing his eyes away from the stranger.

“Captain, who is this man?”

Kiva’s gaze also remained on the black figure as he replied, still not smiling.

“This is Prince Ashar Parishid, nephew of the King of Pelasia.”

Quintillian nodded. “I’ve read a lot about Pelasia; used to be one of the Empire’s staunchest allies, yes? I’ve also read a lot of unflattering material.”

Ashar smiled still. “All of it untrue I’m sure.”

Athas’ voice joined them from the doorway. “Untrue my Prince? That your people spied for the Emperor? Carried out clandestine assassinations? There’s a reason for the old saying ‘the only Pelasian you can trust is a dead one.’”

Ashar’s smile faltered for only a moment. “Say what you like Athas, but we only ever served the boy’s uncle. It was his own people who betrayed him.” His gaze moved back to Kiva. “Enough of this bantering. We haven’t spoken in over twenty years and the only thing we can do is insult each other? Ridiculous. Come. Sit.”

The prince turned and waved to the barman. “Bring me whatever it is you keep in reserve under the counter. Price will not be a problem.”

The rest of the company were now drifting in through the door. Quintillian glanced at Kiva for direction and the captain nodded. He and the boy took a seat opposite the prince. Athas pulled up a chair at the next table and the rest of the men scattered themselves around the bar at tables close by. Brendan stood by a window and turned to Kiva.

“Want me to set watch, captain?”

Kiva shook his head. “Hardly worth it. There’ll be two dozen assassins out there in the shadows. If his highness wanted us dead, they’d have jumped us on the way in.”

The prince laughed. “How little you think of me. Perhaps I trust you implicitly and my men are carousing and taking advantage of local hospitality.”

Kiva smiled now, but with little humour. “And perhaps the winged horse on your cloak will take flight and drag you across the rooftops my Prince. How did you know we’d be here? Even we didn’t know we were making for the village until an hour ago.”

Ashar placed the glass on the table as the innkeeper brought over a tray of varied bottles, some of surprisingly high quality wine. “You are about as difficult to follow as a camel train of bells and gongs. You move slowly and noisily. We’ve been tracking you since your battle at Bergama’s lands and I must say that if even your friend Tythias can find you with his one eye, then be sure we will always know where you are.”

Kiva nodded. “You’re absolutely right. Enough bantering. What do you want and why did you attack us outside Acasio?”

“Straight to the point as always” the prince smiled, pouring himself a glass of wine and motioning for everyone to help theirselves. “Refreshing after dealing with my countrymen for so long. I yearn for those days I spent in Velutio with you and the boy’s uncle.”

Quintillian stopped in the middle of pouring a glass and interrupted. “You keep referring to my uncle. How do you know who I am?”

Kiva answered before the prince could speak. “The prince here knows everything that goes on everywhere. Hell, I’d bet he knew you were leaving Isera before you did.”

Ashar nodded. “It was his escape that brought me back, it’s true. But it is good to see old friends also. Very well.” He drew a deep breath. “We had to have a little go at you on the road; I was intrigued. I haven’t seen you all in twenty years. To be honest, we weren’t sure it was even you until I spotted Athas; you’ve changed rather a lot, you see. I wondered whether age had slowed your wits and your blade. I was pleasantly surprised to find that you’re as good now as you were back then.”

Kiva nodded seriously. “And you haven’t changed at all. Shit, you even look younger than you did then. Why were you tracking us then? Tell me you don’t want to claim the boy for Velutio. I can’t imagine you working for him.”

A laugh, rich and deep. “No. No I can’t see myself allied with that man either. He’s less trustworthy than any of ours. No.” The smile dropped from his face. “I do want the boy, though.”

Quintillian stopped, a glass of rich wine almost at his lips. Thalo and Marco rose and moved to the door and other window without the need for orders. Indeed, the whole company moved up to the alert, Mercurias playing with his knife on the table top and Bors with his longsword in his hands, point down on the floor. Kiva shook his head. “The boy’s not going anywhere and you’ll have to kill all of us before you can harm him.”

Trying not to betray his surprise at himself, Kiva wondered when that had happened. When had Quintillian become such a focus of concern that he would consider placing the Wolves in jeopardy to save him? Curious the effect the boy had on people without them even noticing, but then his uncle had been much the same.

Ashar smiled again. “You misunderstand me, Caerdin. I don’t want to harm the boy. In fact, quite the opposite. I want him to assume the title that is his birthright.”

Kiva blinked. “What?”

The prince looked around the inn at the readiness of the company and shook his head sadly. “It’s such a shame that the years have turned you over-cautious, Kiva. You don’t trust me anymore. I tell you your men can stand down. My soldiers and not within a mile of us at the moment.”

Kiva snorted. “Don’t flatter yourself highness. I never trusted you, even in the Palace when Quintus ruled. I liked you, but that’s a whole different matter; I never trusted you. And I still don’t. Why is the boy any of your concern? What’s in it for you?”

Ashar shrugged. “The Empire was ever a good neighbour to Pelasia. Our trade has declined; we have to suffer the stings and bites of small raiding parties from your petty lords on the border that would never have happened under Imperial rule. And of course, there’s family. Don’t forget that my grandmother was of the boy’s house.”

“Sentimental crap” announced Kiva, taking a slug of something expensive and refilling the vessel.

“Alright” answered the prince with a curious smile. “You tell me why I want him.”

A voice from the other side of the room interrupted. “You’ve lost your position, haven’t you, highness?” They turned to Mercurias who’d put down the knife and was peering at the Pelasian. Ashar grinned.

“Your doctor was ever the most perceptive of the Wolves, Caerdin.”

Kiva raised an eyebrow at the medic and Mercurias shrugged. “His uncle’s been usurped. Why else would he be interested in the power struggles of the Empire? Why else would he leave his lands and come this far on a fool’s errand like this?”

Ashar nodded. “He’s quite right. Very bright for a man who shuns the learning of our own doctors. You know we’re centuries ahead of you in medicine, Mercurias.” He turned his attention back to Kiva and Quintillian. “Yes, my uncle is no more. His head now graces the tip of a lance over the Moon Gate at Akkad and the twins are buried in an unmarked grave somewhere in the desert. I am the last of the Parishid dynasty. Pelasia is slipping away into chaos in much the same way the Empire has.”

Athas shrugged. “That means nothing; you have no small power yourself. You should be able to take the throne back without too much effort.”

Kiva turned and wagged his finger at the sergeant. “Not that simple though,” he turned back the prince, “is it? You could take it back, but you couldn’t hold it. Not now that the Satraps have seen how possible it is to remove a King. It’s not easy to kill a divine power, believe me, but once you do everyone gets ideas.”

The captain patted Quintillian on the shoulder. “That’s why he needs you. Got to put the Empire back together so that he can have Imperial support when he retakes the throne. No Satrap would stand against him then. Otherwise he’ll stay on the run out here.”

Quintillian frowned. “I still don’t understand. Velutio’s close to becoming an Emperor himself now and I’m the perfect bargaining chip, yes? From the prince’s point of view, giving me to Velutio would get him the support he needs anyway.”

Ashar grinned. “Don’t believe for a minute that I didn’t consider it either.”

Kiva shook his head. “Velutio would never ally with a Parishid ruler. They were close to the Imperial family; they even share the blood. No; Velutio wouldn’t stand for Parishid interference.”

Mercurias piped up once more. “This is getting us nowhere. The fact remains that he wants Quintillian and he can’t have him…” he turned and gazed questioningly at Kiva “can he?”

The captain sighed. “I’m afraid not, your highness. I appreciate the fact that you’re the first person we’ve come across that wants to support him and not to kill him, but I’m not actually ready to let go of him just yet. We might be able to come to some arrangement though, if you tell me your plans for him.”

Ashar frowned. “I’m not in the habit of revealing my strategies before they’re carried out, Kiva. You know that, for you were ever the same.”

The captain smiled back at his opposite number. “Just for once, it sounds like we’re working to the same end. Let’s not spoil it.”

“Very well” the prince replied. “For all your harsh assessment of my people, you are correct that we have the finest assassins in the world, and I intend to use them against your old nemesis. Velutio has the most powerful army in your empire, but that won’t help him if his head wakes one morning next to his body.”

Kiva shook his head. “That’s bad planning, Ashar, and you know it. You’re more desperate than you let on, otherwise you’d have thought this through further.”

“Explain.” A simple demand from the Pelasian.

“If you kill Velutio,” sighed Kiva, “all you do is take away the incentive for the lesser lords to behave themselves. If Velutio dies, the chaos will increase, not decrease.”

The prince nodded. “I realise that that is a possibility, but it would be easier to put down the smaller lords than the master himself. Besides, what other choice is there?”

It was Athas who picked up the conversation now. “Did you ever play ‘towers’ when you stayed in the capital? It’s a very good strategy game that the captain and I used to play regularly. The objective is to destroy enough of the opposition’s towers that the remaining ones are too far apart to support each other. I was never all that good, though the captain was better… but Quintus was the best player I ever saw.”

The prince narrowed his eyes. “I believe I see where you are going with this, but do go on.”

Athas smiled. “He’s the only player I ever saw completely demolish the opposition. He left not a tower standing. The game was nice and evenly balanced one minute and then he pulled a trick I’d never even thought of and in only three moves I had no pieces left. It was unbelievable.”

Ashar nodded. “But this is no game and we have no Quintus. We have Quintillian and the towers are real and filled with armies and hungry lords. A nice story, but how does it apply?”

Athas coughed. “I’m not actually sure yet. The captain and I have discussed the future a few times though and it always comes back to the game. All the towers have to go at once, as we only have a couple of pieces ourselves.” He glanced across at Kiva. “There’s only one man here with the kind of tactical genius that Quintus had, so we’ll have to wait until the captain here has a flash of inspiration.”

The prince nodded. “It’s up to you then Caerdin. If you have plans for the boy, I will not interfere. Perhaps we will work together when the time comes? I will wait upon your magnificent brain and when you think the time is right and your plans become clear, call my name. I will never be very far away.” He smiled at the boy. “And we’ll drink to the health of your future ruler and my future ally.”

Raising his glass the prince stood, saluted Quintillian, and drained the amber liquid. Dropping the glass back to the table, he reached into his surcoat and spun around. A chisel-tipped throwing knife whistled through the air with an accuracy that surprised even Kiva and entered the innkeeper’s throat just below the chin. Turning back to the table, the prince refilled his glass and smiled. “I told him price would not be a problem” he joked as behind him the innkeeper slithered down the wall leaving a trail of red.

Quintillian blinked. “Why him?”

Kiva patted him on the shoulder again. “If his highness hadn’t have done it, I would have. Within a day Velutio would know you’ve been here and the barman would be able to retire a wealthy man.”

The prince laughed loudly. “Unless you’ve undergone some miraculous training in the last two decades, you’d not even have hit the wall, let alone the barkeep!” Taking a sip of his drink and replacing the glass, he wandered over to the bar to retrieve his knife. Returning and wiping the blood on a bar cloth before sheathing the blade, Ashar raised an eyebrow and regarded Kiva as he sat. “What are you planning to do then until your miracle comes to pass? Remain on the move? In hiding?”

This was of course a question Kiva was ill-prepared to answer, having only the loosest idea himself. He watched the prince suspiciously. Still, the Pelasian would know what he was doing as he did it if not before and had as much at stake here as anyone. Sometimes the least trustworthy of people became the ones you had to rely on.

“We head for Serfium. I’ve friends there from the old days who’ll keep us out of the way of Velutio’s hunters. Quintillian wants to return to Isera though I’m loathe to walk into the bastard’s hands like that.”

Ashar nodded. “Foolish indeed. Perhaps some of my information will be useful to you, at least in preventing such insanity.”

Kiva pricked up an ear. “You know about what’s going on in the capital then? Anything you can tell us might help. I’m stuck at an impasse at the moment.”

The prince laughed loud. “When was I ever in the dark about current events, Caerdin?” The smile faded and with another sip of wine he placed his hands on the table. “Very well. Velutio is well aware of how the three fugitives escaped Isera. He now has a chart showing the old Imperial escape route as his commander spent a week on the island with everyone there. I believe some harm came to the minister, though no report yet has suggested that he has passed away, so I presume he still runs the island. There was some altercation between the commander of Velutio’s army and the captain of his personal guard and I believe a man called Sabianus is commanding both units. Other than that events on Isera are a bit of a mystery. It was hard enough gathering intelligence on the island before Velutio’s troops landed there and my source on the island stopped signalling once Sabianus landed. All the information I have now has been gleaned from sources in the city.”

As Ashar took a breath before continuing, Kiva held up his hand. “What kind of man is this Sabianus? Do you know anything about him?”

The prince shrugged. “Only a little. He has a good reputation as a commander and very highly paid. He’s been sent to deal with insurrections by some petty lord to the south at the moment. Velutio’s left a small garrison on the island and it really would be ridiculous to go there. Now that he knows about the escape route, you can be sure there’s no secret way in any more.”

Kiva smiled. “There’s always a card up my sleeve, highness. There’s more than one secret passage through the reefs. Just have to know them, that’s all. Still, I agree.” He turned to Quintillian. “Going back to the island is nothing short of surrender and probable suicide. We have to find another way forward, and I think I’m getting an idea.”

The prince raised a questioning eyebrow. “Your mind works fast general.”

“Sometimes.” He drummed his fingers on the table thoughtfully. “Though this relies on stirring up a lot of trouble. Can you find out about this commander Sabianus for me? If he’s a good commander, he might be someone from the old days. There were an awful lot of lesser officers I didn’t know, but if he commanded in the Imperial army, you can be sure that I’ll know someone who knew him. On the whole Imperial officers would tend to be more sympathetic, but I don’t want to push anything until I know more.”

There was a scraping noise as Athas pulled his chair across to their table. “Do I take it we’re getting ready to act, captain?”

Kiva grinned. “Anything that stops you and Mercurias nagging me night and day has to be worth a leaping into the mouth of hell with a very long rope.” He turned back to the prince. “Ok. If you’re really in this the whole way, we might as well make some plans, but if we are going to actually commit to something I have to have absolute control. You have to submit to my command, alright? I want the old oath from you and from all your men.”

The prince frowned. “I will not take your soldier’s oath Caerdin. I will not be bound to you for the rest of my life, but I will remind you that I am still bound by an oath to the boy’s uncle. We have an accord between our nations that supersedes anything you may ask for, and that oath stands for my men also, as it does to any Pelasian.”

The captain nodded. “I’ll accept that, though I want your men back here and I want to hear you all reaffirm that oath to Quintillian.”

“Very well, general. I will submit to your command. What would you have us do?”

Kiva smiled and rummaged in his pack, producing a stylus and a wax writing pad. Scraping off the existing text, he started to scribble furiously. “This is a list of the few Lords I can think of who might consider joining us. They’re all currently free men, but all live in the shadow of Velutio. You’ll need to use my name and that of Quintillian to convince them.” He slid the tablet across to the prince, who picked it up and rand down the list of names.

Another rummage in his pack and the captain withdrew three items. Two flasks emblazoned with the insignia of the Wolves appeared on the table, next to a ring with a seal. He passed one of the flasks to Ashar. “This should be proof enough you’ve spoken to me.” Pushing the ring across, he stared meaningfully at the prince. “This is the only one of its kind left, so be very careful with it. The Imperial seal. They were all destroyed, but as a member of the family I have one as a keepsake. Do not lose it.”

He turned to Quintillian whose face was aglow with wonder. The boy spoke in a low croak. “You still have a seal?”

“Yes.” Holding out the second flask, the captain continued. “This is for you. You’re not an Emperor yet, but you are one of the Wolves now.”

He turned back to the prince. “Between your status, my name and the Imperial seal, you should be able to convince any lord that still has a yearning for order and peace. I do warn you, though” he added, “that if any of them will not give you their oath, they must be dispatched for the good of the cause. I know that won’t be a problem for you.”

Ashar nodded. “You gather an army. What am I to tell them?”

“Tell them to wait for the Winter Feast. We need a lot of time to pull everything together. Tell them to marshal their armies at Munda on the day of the Winter Feast. By then we should be able to act.”

The prince frowned. “I can see how building a rebel army in secret is of use, but this is not the toppling of all the towers of which your sergeant spoke. How do you intend to even the odds? Even with this list of petty lords and your old allies from the army you’ll still be outnumbered at least ten to one if not more. What else do you have planned?”

For a moment a dark look crossed the captain’s face. “That is something I’m not ready to speak of yet. I have an idea that should help us seriously even the odds but a lot of this plan relies on reputation and appearance. We must be seen to be in the right, restoring something broken and longed for.”

He drummed his fingers on the table once more. “Next, you need to send some of your men out and about. I want every scrap of information they can gather on Velutio, his commander, the situation among the lords of the central Provinces, potential rebellions and coups, troop movements, barbarian threats on the borders and anything else they find out, no matter how trivial it seems. Any information can be passed to the priests of the temple at Serfium. Be sure it’ll reach me from there. Equally, if you need to contact me, talk to them. If I need to get a message to you, I’ll leave word there. Understood?”

Ashar nodded. “Understood general. Your mind is as sharp as it ever was. It is a pleasure to see you again.” Kiva grinned as he noted the optimistic buzz among the Grey Company in the room. He turned to the others, rummaging in his kit for some of the coin that Quintillian had given him.

“Athas and Mercurias. Buy horses” he commanded. “Get after Tythias as fast as you can. Try to catch him before he gets all the way to Vengen. Tell him the same thing: Munda at the Feast. Tell him to get in touch with any of the other units from the old days that he knows and trusts. After you’ve spoken to him, head round the coast to the west. The last I heard, both Filus’ and Sithis’ units were employed round there. Find them, pass the word on and then get a ship back across the sea to Serfium and join us.”

Athas grinned as he took the coin and turned to Mercurias. The grizzled medic smiled one of his rare smiles and accepted some of the coin, motioning again with his hand. With a sigh, Athas produced his flask of spirit and handed it over.

Kiva drew a deep breath. Brendan and Marco? Head to Munda and check out the lie of the land there. I don’t think it’s been occupied since the Fall, but I’d rather not have any nasty surprises. Anything that needs dealing with, we’ll do it well in advance of the Feast. While you’re there, find the old meeting place and get all our old kit out of storage. Make sure it’s clean and polished. Half of this will be about appearance. Seeing the Wolves in full kit riding at the front of the army should be enough to boost the morale of our allies and frighten the hell out of a few of our enemies.”

He stretched his arms. “The rest of us will head to Serfium with Quintillian and keep our heads down very low. Without myself or the boy, you shouldn’t run into any serious danger. None of Velutio’s men are looking for odd pairs of mercenaries on the move.”

With a deep sigh, he reached out and took a deep pull of his drink, turning once more to the prince with a sudden thought. “I take it your men are actually around outside and you’re just obfuscating out of habit?”

Ashar smiled. “Would I disappoint you?”

Kiva shook his head. “Do I take it they’ll have dealt with anyone who could have heard or seen us?” The Pelasian nodded a reply.

“Very well, get your men back here so they can reaffirm their oath.” As the prince nodded and stood, straightening his surcoat, Kiva turned back to the rest of the room’s occupants and cleared his throat. “Same goes for all of us. We took an oath to a man who’s been gone more than two decades and an Empire that went with him. Now we need to take that oath again.” He paused as he turned to the boy. “This time to Quintillian.”

As the Pelasian prince leaned through a window and imitated a strange eastern bird call, Athas and the others shifted the tables and chairs out of the way to the edge of the room. At one barked order from the large dark-skinned sergeant, the unit fell in as three rows, dropping to one knee. Kiva gestured at Quintillian. “You can’t just sit there. This is important. In all your reading and studying, did you ever learn about the oath?”

With a grin, the lad stood and faced Kiva. “I know what’s to be done, captain.” He stepped into the centre of the room, squaring his shoulders and drawing his sword, which he held vertical next to his head, his other arm across his chest with a clenched fist in the old fashioned salute.

As the Pelasian soldiers returned to the inn, clad in black and moving lightly, they stopped in the doorway to watch an Imperial Marshal leading one of the most famous units in history in the traditional soldier’s oath of allegiance. Somehow Quintillian looked larger and more imposing now than the boy they’d seen fighting among them a month ago in the hills. They watched silently as the Wolves repeated each line after their captain, and as the last line of the oath faded away, Quintillian held out his arm with the sword above their heads in the traditional Imperial benediction as he accepted their allegiance.

Minutes later the second oath was taken, and Kiva nodded in satisfaction as the Prince led his own men in their speech. As Quintillian’s second benediction echoed, Ashar turned to the captain. “And so begins a new history, eh Caerdin?”

Kiva nodded quietly. He fervently hoped so.