“Four days” Cialo commented. “No supplies; no gear; no word even! Begging your pardon sir, but can I speak freely?” Sabian nodded and the sergeant went on. “There’s some who say there were raised voices the day he left. You haven’t pissed him off have you sir?”
The commander shrugged. “I very possibly have, Cialo, but even if his Lordship is incensed with me, he’s still bright enough to know that we’ll need supplies. These people here barely grow enough to feed themselves, let alone a score of soldiers too.” He sighed. “One thing that’s certain: we’re going to have to come to some arrangement with the islanders.” He’d refused to call them prisoners, despite their evident captivity, and had encouraged his men to do the same. After all, until another ship came, the soldiers were in much the same position as their wards.
The gruff sergeant cleared his throat as the two of them walked, side by side along the wall walk. The westerly breeze carried a hint of salt but did little to temper the heat of the summer sun.
“The ‘islanders’ don’t talk to us, sir” he grumbled. “I know they speak to you, cos you’ve got the power and all, but we’re the enemy as far as they’re concerned. They do things when we tell them, but they don’t ask or answer unless they have to. Not that I can’t see it from their point of view” he added quickly with a sidelong glance at his commander. “What his Lordship did to that old man made us all very unpopular, sir. Hard to see how we can come to any arrangement.”
Sabian shrugged, his red military cloak fluttering in the light sea breeze. It really was a spectacular view from here. He could actually see Velutio, spread out on the lower slopes of Monte Bero and plunging out into the sea like a swimmer taking his first stroke. In the days when this was a palace complex full of glittering life, it must have been a paradise on earth.
“We’re going to have to do something Cialo” the commander sighed. “No supplies and no way to reach or contact the city. How many men do we have on the island?”
Cialo made a ‘harrumphing’ sound again.
“Six companies, sir” he replied. “Just over a hundred men all told.” He grinned. “Plus me and Iasus, ‘course!”
Sabian smiled. The beginnings of a plan were forming.
“I’m going to have to go speak to the islanders.” He made for the wall stairs but turned to Cialo as he reached them. “You need to find Iasus and assemble all the men somewhere out of the way, say the old bath house down by the shore. Don’t keep them at attention or anything, just have everyone there by the time I’m done.”
The sergeant nodded and walked back the way they’d come along the high, thick wall. Cialo had seen warfare first-hand many times and had the scars both physical and mental to prove it. Some of the men grumbled about their role here as guards, but from a veteran’s point of view, what better way to live out your last few years of service than here. The place was beautiful and for the first time in years, the grizzled sergeant strode happily along the wall, a spring in his step.
As Cialo went off to round up his men, Sabian jogged down the steps and strode across the turf toward the rear doors of the Raven Palace. He couldn’t work out why supplies hadn’t arrived. Surely Velutio’d not be pig-headed enough to withhold their supplies just because he’d spoken out of turn. He dreaded to think what Crosus would be making of that.
His train of thought was broken by a shrill whistle. He stopped in his tracks and looked around for the source of the sound, and then up, where he spotted the figure in the tree. A young man sat with a leg hooked over one branch and his elbows resting on another.
“Morning Darius” the commander issued. He forced a smile, though his thoughts were still elsewhere. “Thought you’d have been at sword practice again on a lovely morning like this.”
The boy laughed mirthlessly. “Your men impounded all the weapons, didn’t they.”
Sabian grunted. Of course they had. He may have cancelled the crucifixions, but he had no intention of rebelling against his command and had issued all the standard orders for prisoners of war. This would have to change of course, in the circumstances.
“True” the commander admitted. “Probably unnecessary, but an automatic response.”
The boy nodded once and then unhooked his leg, swinging from the branch and releasing to land light on his feet next to the soldier.
“Ferastus, yes?” Darius inquired. “From ‘on captivity’ in his collected essays.”
Sabian smiled, a real smile this time. “You really do know your stuff, don’t you?” He squared his shoulders. “However, I don’t think this place really applies to the Ferastian rules. After all, there’s no way off for you or us. We’re in very much the same position and perhaps some of the standard rules need to be relaxed or even changed.”
Darius shook his head and the commander raised an eyebrow in surprise.
“You don’t believe so?” he asked, unconvinced.
The boy shook his head again. “We’re prisoners and you’re an officer of our captor. You’ve already put yourself and your men in considerable danger by refusing to crucify our people.” He smiled. “Now that’s a good gesture and makes us believe in you a little, but if you relax things too much, you’ll only end up bringing trouble for yourself and we’ll get someone like that other captain as a replacement. I don’t think that would be at all good for us.”
Sabian blinked. The boy made a great deal of sense, but the commander had already made his plans. “Thing is Darius,” he said, “I have no intention of becoming a jailor. I’d rather you all carried on as if we weren’t here. I have a permanent lookout stationed on the gatehouse and one of your less sociable companions removed an obstructive tree for us. We’ll have best part of an hour’s warning when a ship appears in the channel.”
He gestured for them to walk and Darius fell in beside him.
“As it happens,” he added, “I’m on my way to see the elders now with a few ideas. Then, perhaps we can arrange for you to be able to continue your sword practice, eh Darius?”
Darius didn’t answer. In fact he’d gone rather quiet and subdued all of a sudden as they walked toward the Raven Palace. Sabian glanced sidelong at him and cleared his throat.
“Is there something you want to say?” he asked.
Darius shook his head. “No” he replied. “Not yet at least.”
Respecting the young man’s decision, but eyeing him suspiciously, Sabian thought about Darius for a moment. He’d not seen the lad around since the day Velutio left and Darius was usually visible enough. He frowned, wondering what the young man was up to, but surprised himself as he realised that Darius was actually one of the few people he still trusted, despite his being a captive. Still frowning he changed the subject. “How’s Sarios? I’ve been meaning to get in to see him since he’s been awake again.”
Darius shrugged. “The two doctors are arguing over him. Velutio’s physician says he’ll never see with his left eye again. Our own doctor disagrees and thinks he can help, but your one won’t let him. It’s all a bit stupid really. If someone needs help you help them in my opinion.”
They had reached the door to the Raven Palace, a single wooden side door, very ornate and with carvings of serpents and gods in armour, though now in a sad state of repair. Darius stopped talking and reached out, pulling the door open for Sabian to pass. The commander nodded his thanks and walked inside with the young man following. In the lower hall of the palace, Sergeant Iasus, young and fair haired, was giving out duty passwords to three soldiers. The sergeant and his men came sharply to attention as they spotted the commander. Sabian waved the salutes aside.
“Iasus, I’ve asked Cialo to gather the men at the baths” Sabian called. “I’d like you to do the same. Don’t worry about duty passwords right now.”
With a sharp bow, Iasus waved towards the door and the three soldiers exited in short order. Sabian started toward the staircase as the sergeant exited the building, but suddenly realised he was walking alone. He turned, only a few steps up, to see Darius standing still in the doorway, glaring out after the exiting soldiers. The commander’s brow furrowed.
“Darius, what the hell is wrong?”
The boy shook his head as if to clear it from a daze.
“I don’t know,” he replied, walking toward the steps.” Maybe nothing, but I’m just not sure.” Sabian frowned. The boy had good instincts and if he had suspicions then Sabian should know about them.
“Darius, talk to me.”
Again a shake of the head. “I’ll tell you when there’s really something to tell” the boy said quietly and began to ascend the steps, his gaze still fixed on the doorway to the courtyard. Sabian shook his head. Caerdin had been a complicated man by all accounts and if he was the man’s son, then it obviously ran in the blood. Reaching the top of the stairs the commander walked toward the open double door that led into the ancient dining room. Though once the administrative staff of the Empire had eaten in this room, it served more these days as a senate for the elders and if Sabian ever wanted to speak to one of them it was rare he would find the room empty.
He stepped inside and admired the decor. Unlike most of the structures on the island, this room retained much of its original wall painting and decorative plaster, creating scenes of hunting and nature, garlands of flowers and beautiful solitary columns and arches. A mosaic covered the central square recess in the floor, depicting frolicking nymphs with jars of water. On the raised floor around all the edges would once have been recliners where the powerful men of Empire would lie to eat. These days they were rickety wooden chairs and tables full of documents and lists. Three of the elders whose names escaped him stood at just such a table, arguing over a list.
As Darius reached the top of the staircase, Sabian cleared his throat loudly. The three elders stopped mid-sentence and turned to face the newcomers. The commander smiled. “I’m not sure who I need to speak to in the absence of the Minister?” He left the question hanging. One of the three, a man of some fifty five or sixty years of age, stepped away from the table.
“I am Turus, also a minister, once in charge of the treasury. You can speak to me.”
Sabian stepped across the room and brought himself up in front of the man.
“Very well Minister Turus.” His voice took on an efficient, military tone. “It has been brought to my attention that there is no interaction between your islanders and my men. This is a sad state of affairs when we are forced to live in such close proximity and I feel it’s time to change the way a few things are done around here.”
Turus narrowed his eyes. In a face not much given to humour, his appearance hardened. “I’d imagined this was coming, but I’d expected it sooner commander. What are we to do now? Be herded into one building and restricted in our movement perhaps?”
Sabian smiled again, but the smile was tight and hard.
“You would be wise, Turus,” the commander said, “to take lessons in courtesy and observation from your leader once he is better. If you had opened your eyes you would be well aware that I am carrying out my orders with the loosest possible leash and trying to make the best of a bad lot for all involved.”
Turus opened his mouth with some retort, but Sabian cut him off before he could begin. “I think you’d better stay quiet and listen Turus before you get yourself into trouble.” He relaxed his stance a little and became aware of Darius standing by his side, almost supportively. Good. That might lend extra weight to his words in this place. ”We need to work on our interaction. Our supplies have not arrived and, while I have absolutely no intention of letting my men starve, I also refuse to commandeer all the goods you have put so much work into. There is precious little need here for guards right now and I shall put my men to work for the benefit of the community, in return for which, you can pay us in food and goods.”
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.
“Commander. It’s good to see you. I hear good things about your command of the island.”
Sabian shrugged. “I’m glad you’re looking better now. As for ‘good things’, I’m not so sure about that. I just don’t like to see needless cruelty.” He smiled. “Actually, I’m just embarking on a few projects around the island. I don’t like my men to get lazy.”
Sarios smiled again and tried to pull himself a little more upright on the pillows. Sabian rushed to the bedside and helped the old man pull himself up. Sarios gratefully relaxed in a better position and then looked up at the commander with his good eye. “Thank you. I feel so useless, but it’s a terrible thing when you get old and feeble. He only hit me twice, but I feel like I’ve spent a day in the arena entertaining the crowd.” Again the smile. Sabian couldn’t help but admire the man.
“I just really dropped in to see how you were and how they were treating you. I take it you were listening to the two idiots outside your door?”
Sarios nodded. “It’s hard to avoid it when all there is to do is to lie here.” He beckoned to the commander with his finger. “Actually, I’d like to ask you a favour.” Sabian nodded, silent, and the minister continued. “I want our own doctor to deal with me. I know it’s a risk, but he really does know what he’s doing, I assure you.”
Sabian tapped his finger on his lips. “Perhaps” he muttered. “I’m loathe to put you in any more danger though.”
The minister nodded. “Still, I would wish it.” He glanced over at the table near the window. “I actually got up yesterday for a few minutes and strung some thoughts and ideas together. Perhaps you’d be good enough to take that top sheet and see the council of elders with it?”
Sabian nodded again. “I’d be happy to. Unless you need me for anything though, I’d better get on. There’s a lot to do” he added. Sarios nodded gently. “I’d better sleep anyway. That’s one of the few things both doctors can agree on.”
Without another word, the commander bowed and retrieved the top sheet of paper from the table. Glancing at it briefly on the way out, he noted a list of things that needed to be done, including a priority list for the upcoming vegetable harvest. He smiled. Great minds, eh? As he left, he made sure the chamber door was shut tight and opened the outer door to leave the apartment. The island’s doctor stood in the corridor still and he turned with a start as Sabian appeared.
“Ah, commander” the doctor said. “Darius was by here and wants you to go see him when you’re free. He said you’d know where.”
Sabian nodded. “I think I know. By the way, I’m inclined along with the minister to ask you to deal with his treatment your way. If you see Velutio’s doctor, please tell him to find me tonight. I would warn you though that I will be very unhappy if anything untoward happens to Sarios, so make sure your treatment works.” To add weight to his words the commander had bunched one hand into a fist and was rubbing the knuckles with his other hand as he spoke. The doctor nodded solemnly with no trace of fear. “I’ll do my best,” he replied.
Sabian fixed him eye to eye for a long moment and then stepped around him and continued on down the corridor to stop and collect something on the way.
The ruins of the Golden House mouldered and smelled dank even in the late afternoon sun. The day was wearing on rapidly now and the sun was diminishing behind the high perimeter walls even as Sabian, once more armed and armoured, picked his way among the rubble. Turning the corner, he immediately spotted Darius seated on a timber in the centre of the octagonal room, idly twiddling a short dagger in his hand. He looked up as the commander appeared in the shattered doorway and nodded a greeting. Sabian strode into the centre and, reaching down to his belt, unhooked an extra sword from his left side. Holding the sheathed blade out to the young man, he nodded.
“I’ve talked to the elders” he smiled, “and I want you to continue your training. In fact, I’m going to make sure you’re not interrupted by things like poetry. You can keep this with you; it’s not going back in the weapon cabinet.”
Darius grinned lopsidedly back at him. “Thanks. Somehow it feels wrong not to have sword practice.” Sabian inwardly agreed. He felt the same himself and imagined the boy’s father was much the same. The lad unsheathed the blade and gave it a few practice swings. “This isn’t the sword I was using” he noted.
Sabian sat on one of the fallen boulders. “No,” he replied, “this is a northern sword with a heavy hilt and a slight curvature, like the barbarian tribes to the north use. It doesn’t do to limit yourself to one blade. If you find yourself in dire straits and needing to use what’s to hand, you might not be able to wield it effectively. Plus I have to say that the northern tribes designed one of the best weighted implements of war ever created.” He smiled, patting the sheath still hanging by his side that carried a blade of very similar design.
Darius examined the slight curve thoughtfully. “That makes sense I suppose. It’s a little heavier than the other one too, even though it’s shorter. Going to take a bit of getting used to…”
Unhooking his own scabbard, Sabian laid his own blade across his knees. “I assume you were interested in some live practice? Is that why you asked me here?”
The young man glanced up and turned the blade, sheathing it very professionally. Sabian once more had to acknowledge what a natural Darius was.
“Actually I had other reasons” admitted the boy. “And I needed somewhere fairly private to talk to you. You weren’t followed, were you?”
Sabian blinked. He’d not looked. Why on earth would he be followed? Seeing the commander’s face Darius smiled and, reaching up to part of the ruinous vaulting hauled himself up to the wall level. Though the sun was now hidden by the fortress-like walls of the palace, at that height the boy’s head was once more in bright light. He shaded his eyes and glanced around the ruin. Satisfied they were truly alone he dropped, cat-like to the floor.
“We seem to be fine.”
Sabian frowned. “I don’t think you should climb here; the masonry’s too dangerous. And I think you’d better explain all this” he added darkly.
Taking his seat on the timber again with the blade across his knees mirroring Sabian, the boy nodded. “Don’t worry about the walls. I’ve been here all my life and I know which ones are stable. As for the other, I think you’ve got a problem.”
“A problem?” enquired the commander, one eyebrow raised.
Another nod from the boy. “I think some of your men may be less than trustworthy.”
Sabian bridled. “Be careful what you say Darius, I…”
The young man waved his hands to dismiss the words. “I don’t mean it like that. I…“ He tailed off and looked down at the floor. “I actually trust you commander.” He looked up again. “Have you any idea how difficult that is for me; for any of us here? We know you work for Velutio and that he basically owns us as though we were slaves, and yet you I can’t help but trust. Perhaps it’s the fact that you remind me so much of the military men I read about in the old days.”
Sabian shrugged. “I try to be fair. Where are you going with this, Darius?”
Again the boy looked a touch uncomfortable. “The day Velutio left the island I was on the roof, watching him go. I also saw you talking to your sergeant. You were quiet but I could hear, and since I was in earshot, the man in the soldier’s uniform on the wall certainly could.”
The commander’s shrugged again.
“What’s odd about that?” he probed. “We had guards on the walls.”
The young man shook his head. “I don’t know who he was. I only saw his back and he was partially hidden, but definitely wearing a uniform and definitely watching you. He wasn’t on any kind of duty though, cos he didn’t have his shield or sword with him. Trust me. I know when someone’s doing something they shouldn’t. They move and act in a certain way. Anyway, that’s only part of it.”
The young man had piqued Sabian’s interest now. “Go on…” the commander urged.
The boy sighed. “I’ve been doing some observing of my own over the last few days. I’ve not had my sword and the tutors have been wrapped up in other things, so I’ve had a lot of time to myself. A couple of days ago you were writing a letter in the Ibis Courtyard and I was on the gatehouse thinking when I saw you. And guess what? There was a soldier in uniform at one of the high windows of the Raven Palace watching you from above. Now you can’t tell me that’s right? The top floor of the palace is all apartments for the elders.”
Sabian nodded. The boy was absolutely right. Had he found one of his soldiers up there he’d have disciplined him.
Darius went on. “Either he or some other man’s never been far from you since then. There may even be two or more of them, cos to be honest when you’re all in uniform, I find it hard to distinguish at first glance and I don’t get to see them up close. That’d be too risky. I think there’s several though and your younger sergeant might be in on it. The soldier or soldiers that I’ve been seeing are often with him. Sort of with him and shifty if you get my meaning.” He frowned.
Sabian shrugged again. “It’s a bit thin though Darius. It’s not like they’ve been hunting me with their blades out or anything. I don’t like the sound of it, but without any kind of evidence, they may just be bored. I wouldn’t be at all surprised.”
Darius shook his head. “True, but I followed one of them myself this afternoon. He went into one of the rooms people don’t really use in the Peacock Palace. It’s on the top floor and a bit dangerous. He was in there for about a quarter of an hour and then left and raced off to find that sergeant. After he left I went into the room and the only thing in there was a signalling lamp standing on the windowsill.” The young man crossed his arms. “Now tell me that’s not fishy!” he added.
Sabian frowned. Such news threw a whole new light on the subject. “Take me to this room Darius.”