The sun was floating lazily almost touching the sea to the west when Darius and the commander reached the main palace buildings. Within the complex walls the shadows had melded together and lamps had been lit in the palaces. Up on the main gate and at strategic places on the walls braziers burned where the soldiers on the night watch had just come on duty. Making their way through the Great court and along the Hall of the Swans the pair had seen not another soul. Everyone would probably be preparing for dinner at this time.
Sabian walked quietly but quickly, his hand gripping the pommel of his sword to stop it swinging as he walked. He wasn’t quite sure why he was being so cautious, but for some reason his instincts told him to be careful and he had long since learned to trust his instincts. Besides, Darius was also treading quietly and the boy was equally intuitive. Moving into the intricately designed stairs they made their way up the six flights until they could see the wide vestibule at the top, dark but for the scattered patches of grey where the windows in the stairwell allowed a little light to penetrate the gloom. Sabian stopped.
“Lead on Darius” the commander whispered. The young man answered with a simple nod and turned to make his way along the curved hall. They made their way quietly, softly around the central well until Darius stopped and held up his hand. Pointing down at the floor, he shook his finger. Sabian looked down and realised that this floor must be hardly ever visited. The dust was thick and settled apart from several sets of footprints leading both to and from the door that now stood before them. The commander took a moment to examine the tracks. They were of an average size and bore all the hallmarks of military boots, though with little or no signs of the hobnails; whoever it was needed their boots replacing. He looked back up at Darius and nodded as the two pulled themselves up in front of the door. Darius was reaching for the handle when Sabian stayed his arm. The commander pointed at the cracks around the door itself and the younger man realised that a tiny amount of light was visible around the edges. Darius had assumed the room’s window to be the source of the light, but it was possible that the sun was now beneath the horizon and this window would face east. Perhaps the window or… a lantern maybe? Slowly and with infinite care Sabian drew his well-oiled blade from its sheath. Darius raised his eyebrow and at the commander’s nod drew his own sword, new and unfamiliar.
Stepping to either side of the door, the two took up defensive positions as Sabian reached out and, gently lifting the catch, thrust the door open and peered round the edge. Since he didn’t flinch or pull back, Darius leaned forward and peered round to survey the room. Much like the corridor, the room with thick with dust. Old ramshackle furniture stood around the walls collecting dust and bird droppings. The ornate window had seen better days, much of its plaster moulding having fallen away both outside and in and the walls were shedding plaster in places, beautifully painted chunks lying on the floor in the dust and leaving just the bare bones of the walls. The only articles in the room that did not show a sense of neglect and decay were a small wooden table and chair before the window and as Darius had noted in his brief earlier visit, a signalling lamp standing on the table next to a flickering candle that had almost burned out. It took long moments for his gaze to pick out the other oddity in the room and, as he did, he joined the commander and they walked into the room, their swords still ready.
Not far from the table in the dust on the floor was a heap that Darius had at first assumed to be old drapes or wall hangings. In fact, with the low flickering candlelight, its nature became clear as they made their way closer: it was a body. Darius stopped suddenly and turned, his blade flashing in the dim light as he squinted to check the corners of the room. Sabian shook his head.
“No one here,” he said, “apart from him.” He gestured at the body and then turned to the young man. “Step careful. There are tracks in here we don’t want to disturb.”
As the commander stepped lightly toward the body, Darius remained where he was, watching the doorway. Sabian reached the heap and crouched.
“His name’s Ursus” he confirmed. “One of Iasus’ men.” He sighed and, standing again, added “we need more light.”
As Darius nodded the commander scratched his head. “I’ve sent word for his Lordship’s physician to find me. No one else should be around for best part of an hour; it’s dinner time.” He gestured to Darius. “Are you alright guarding this room while I get some lanterns and find the doctor?”
Darius nodded again. “Don’t be too long.”
Stepping carefully to avoid scuffing the footprints in the dust, Sabian left the room and Darius heard him jogging along the corridor to the stairs. As the hob-nailed boot noises faded away into the distance Darius placed his sword on the table, hilt facing him for easy retrieval should it become necessary. Crouching he examined the footprints in the dust. He hadn’t examined the ones in the corridor, but they were fairly clear tracks. Here there were at least two sets of prints crossing each other many times, one military boot and one light flat shoe. Darius frowned and crossed to the body. The man was probably in his late twenties; perhaps ten years older than he and powerfully built. A big man with a lantern jaw and a shaved head and wearing the full kit of a soldier. The young man considered examining the body himself but thought better of it. These things were best left to men of science.
Standing once more he walked past the table and peered out over the water. Velutio was visible in the distance as myriad twinkling lights in the shroud of darkness. How anyone signalling would know what to look for was beyond him, as it would be near impossible to distinguish between the lights.
He hadn’t realised just how long he’d sat there, staring out at a world beyond his reach, but it must have been some time for he was shaken from his dreamy state by footsteps in the corridor. Retrieving his sword he came to his feet in a sweeping motion to face the door as Sabian and the doctor appeared in the open, framed in the doorway by the light of the lanterns they each carried. The lad relaxed, his shoulders dropping back and the sword coming to rest by his side. Sabian entered, stepping to one side to avoid the footprints and advising the doctor to do the same. Without a word, the physician reached out with his lantern and held it in front of Darius, expecting the young man to relieve him of his burden. Gritting his teeth in annoyance, Darius grasped the lantern and placed it on the table. Looking around, Sabian found a high wooden cupboard still in a reasonably sturdy state and placed his own lantern on the top. As the room was bathed in the glow of the two oil lamps, the commander wandered across and shut the door, sealing them in the room before he addressed the doctor.
“Alright. Tell me everything you can about him.”
The doctor was crouched beside the body and with some effort rolled Ursus back and forth. “No visible wounds on the torso or limbs.” He lifted the head gently and it rolled around threatening to become detached. Darius frowned as the doctor continued: “looks like someone broke his neck. I would suggest that the culprit you’re looking for was not a natural fighter, as there are a great number of marks on the neck and the upper arms. It seems to have been quite a struggle.” He cleared his throat as he gently lowered the head back to the floor. “Also, judging by the size of the victim I would suspect you’re looking for a large or at least surprisingly strong assailant.” The doctor stood, dusting his hands and with a distrustful glance at Darius, faced the commander.
“I would say you can rule out your men as they would have made a much neater job of it I’m sure. Is there anything else?”
Sabian shook his head. “I don’t think so. I’ll let you know if we need any more.”
Nodding curtly, the physician made for the door, turning as he reached it.
“I think you are making a mistake commander,” he declared, “in respect of the minister. This procedure that’s planned could easily kill him and his Lordship will not be happy with that.”
Sabian glowered at the doctor. “That’s my concern, not yours.”
With a shrug, the doctor left and Darius and the commander stood beside the corpse of the soldier silently. After a pregnant pause, Darius cleared his throat and threw a quick glance at the doorway before speaking.
“I don’t trust that man.”
Sabian sighed. “That’s only natural really, but he does know what he’s talking about. I need you to do me a favour Darius. Can you run and find my two sergeants? You know Cialo and Iasus?”
Without comment, Darius sheathed his sword and slipped out of the room. Sabian was starting to get that itch he always got back in the city when he knew something was going on. Oh, in the city there was always something going on. An assassination here, a plot foiled there, rivalry and vying for power and prestige. The commander had learned to live with it and to navigate his way through the dangerous currents of life in the biggest city of the Empire, but he’d never liked it. He was a soldier, not a politician, as he kept having to remind people including himself. He liked things clear cut and out in the open and to have come to this virtual banishment while games were played behind his back in the city did not sit well with him. To have orders to clamp down on the freedoms of a bunch of people who, as far as he could see, hadn’t done anything wrong irked him just as much. And now, as an added burden he’d displeased Velutio and put himself in danger and to add to all his irritations and worries there was something going on here of all places. And no one seemed trustworthy. In fact, most of the people he had any inclination to rely on were prisoners like Darius and the minister. Apparently not even his own men!
“Shit!”
Sabian kicked a piece of fallen plaster in irritation and it ricocheted off the wall, causing further cracks to appear. He glared out of the window at the city twinkling in the distance and a bad taste filled his mouth. He’d always known he would be a soldier and he’d been damn good at it. After only a few years serving one of the petty lords further around the coast he’d become a commander and with only eight years service under his belt his record was good enough that Velutio had sought him out. Velutio’s army was the closest thing in the world to the great army the Empire had once had and Sabian had leapt at the chance for a proper commission. These days he was starting to wonder whether it was worth it. Once the hazy view of exuberant youth had faded he’d realised that, despite Velutio’s army being the largest and most organised of all the lords, it still bore no resemblance to the glorious military of imperial days. And with it came treachery and deceit. Perhaps when this was all over he’d resign his commission and sign on as a mercenary captain. At least they weren’t beholden. If they found out they’d signed on to lunatics they could just walk away.
He sighed again and, pulling out the uncomfortable wooden chair, collapsed into it while he waited for the lad. He found himself once more musing on Darius and his background. If the boy really was Caerdin’s son and had even a fraction of his father’s wit and talent, which he appeared to do, he was truly wasted locked away on this island. Hell, had things been different, another ten years would probably have seen Sabian serving under him . Smiling at that last thought he drummed his fingers on the table and stopped for a moment. One thing he hadn’t noticed before was the mark on the table. Something else had been standing on the table very recently, as there was a small circular patch among the dust. He shrugged; probably just a mug or glass.
He sat staring at the table for a few more minutes until the sound of several footsteps appeared in the corridor and Cialo and Iasus entered the room, coming to attention and saluting the moment they were inside. Sabian nodded and beckoned them forward, surprised to see behind them not only Darius but Favio, the island’s doctor. He glared at Darius and raised on eyebrow. The young man just shrugged.
“He was looking for you anyway.”
With a squaring of the shoulders, Sabian stood up.
“Well as long as you’re here Favio,” he addressed the doctor, “you might as well have a look at the body and tell me what you think. But,” he added “what we say goes no further than the walls of this room.” As Darius and the doctor wandered over to the body, Sabian examined the sergeants. Since they’d been here there was a notable change in his men. Cialo’s only concession now to his uniform were the tunic and belt and he looked every inch the engineer. A stylus rested behind his ear and a wax tablet stuck out of his belt. He was covered in dust and spattered plaster which matted his hair in places. It was hard to look at the ageing sergeant and not smile. Iasus on the other hand was still in his armour and had polished it every night by the look of it. One might think he hadn’t changed, but to those who knew him… He had a few days growth of facial hair and, despite beards being quite fashionable these days, Sabian had never seen him other than clean shaven. His helmet was tucked under his arm, but instead of the traditional skull cap beneath, a bandanna of crimson silk was wrapped around his forehead. And most of all, he smiled occasionally. That had never happened much. For a moment Sabian wondered what changes the others saw in their commander, but pulled himself together and tried to ignore the tutting and muttering of the island’s doctor as he spoke.
“Ursus was one of your men Iasus, yes?”
“Sir” Iasus nodded confirmation.
“But he was working as an engineer under you, yes Cialo?”
The older sergeant nodded.
“What was he doing here?” the commander queried. “You’ve only been working for a couple of hours.”
Cialo dropped from attention and addressed Sabian. “He was supposed to be hunting around for old damaged plaster sir.”
Sabian frowned. “Damaged plaster?”
“Yessir,” the sergeant went on. “Old plaster can be used as part of a base for mortar. He and a couple of the others are bringing me sack loads of old plaster from all over the island. Anywhere things have fallen down. We’ll be using it in the mortar mix for the repairs to the baths.”
Sabian nodded. “That explains him being here, but not what happened. I don’t like this at all. You see this lamp…” he began but his voice trailed off as the muttering of Doctor Favio intensified and distracted him.
“Doctor, could you kindly keep your voice down.”
Favio grumbled and beckoned to the commander with a finger. Biting his tongue to stop himself shouting at the insolent man, Sabian leaned down toward them.
“What is it, Favio?”
Favio shook his head. “What did your doctor tell you?” he enquired, heaping sarcasm on the word.
“That he was attacked by someone untrained in martial combat, there was a fair struggle and finally someone managed to break his neck. I can see the marks and the broken neck for myself.”
Favio continued to shake his head. “Begging your pardon commander, but that’s a whole heap of horse shit and unless your man was trained by a blind beggar with the mental capability of a sewer turd he knows it.”
Sabian glowered at him.
“Go on…”
The doctor smiled. “Someone’s trying to pull the wool over your eyes commander. This man was dead at least a half an hour before his neck was broken and all these bruises made.”
Sabian leaned forward. His dark countenance had gone replaced by one of concern. “Are you sure of that Favio?”
The doctor nodded. “Absolutely. If you’ll let me examine him properly, I’ll tell you how he died too; my instruments are all in my clinic.”
Sabian gestured back at Cialo and Iasus without even turning to look at them. “Take Ursus,” he ordered the pair. ”Follow the doctor and let him do whatever the hell it is he needs to do. Iasus, you stay with him while he does it. Cialo, meet us at the bath house. You and I and young Darius here are going to check something out.” He added as an afterthought “and try not to be seen carrying Ursus. No one says anything about this.”
The room burst into life as the two sergeants and the doctor collected the body of the soldier and carried him from the room. Darius was making for the door when Sabian called out to him and he turned.
“Darius, I want you to go find the doctor from Velutio. You and I and Cialo are going to have a little talk with him. Bring him down to the bath house. I don’t really care what excuse you use.”
With a nasty smile, young Darius carried out an elaborate sweeping bow and left the room. Sabian cracked his knuckles and then shuddered. It was a habit he thought he managed to break, that. Whatever was going on here, if the Favio was right, then Velutio’s doctor had something to do with it. However Favio might talk or treat people, he really did seem to be an excellent doctor. He suddenly realised that Darius had said Favio was looking for him. Still, that could wait until later.
With a hard smile that closely matched Darius’, Sabian left the room and made his way down the stairs. If the doctor was involved in any underhanded business, the commander would deal with it and do it his way and as soon as possible. He trotted along the hallways and across the courtyards until he reached the soft, springy turf of the gardens and strode down the hill and through the Water Gate. The bath house was surrounded by wooden scaffolding and ropes and buckets and myriad tools lay strewn about. Cialo had been busy already it seemed. As he neared the entrance to the baths he almost smiled to note that the unpleasant smell of musty decay had died away a little. Cialo would have drained the baths first no doubt. A long plank of wood led down into the baths themselves, covering the various places where the floor had given way to the dark tunnels between the supporting pillars of the underfloor heating. At the doorway to the changing room, still close enough to the entrance to admit the low light of a sunset now all but over, two oil lamps stood in niches by the arch. Smiling, Sabian lit the lamps and moved into the room. The wide space was covered with tools and clothing and the various bric-a-brac of workmen. The niches for storing the bathers’ clothing was filled with unidentifiable items, along with sawn planks and scribbled plans and notes. Cialo really was taking his work seriously. The commander wandered across to one of the less occupied niches and carefully moved its contents into the next one before taking a seat. Mere moments later, Cialo strode into the room and nodded.
“Sir. Got some news from the quack”. He rolled his eyes upwards as though repeating a list he’d been made to memorize. “He said to tell you that Ursus’ tongue was all swollen up and a right funny colour. He reckons he drank something poisonous, but he’s not sure what yet. He’ll let you know what he finds.”
Sabian’s face took on an even threatening look. There could be little doubt about the doctor’s guilt now.
“What’re we up to?” Cialo asked curiously.
Sabian smiled. “Sergeant, you are a soldier of the old school, yes?”
The sergeant nodded. “I would say so, sir.”
“What,” the commander enquired, “would you have done with a traitor in the ranks when you served in the Imperial army?”
Cialo’s face darkened. “He wouldn’t turn up at roll call the next morning sir.”
Sabian nodded. “I’ve always thought of myself as old school you know? I was only a lad when you were out serving with the great generals, but I always thought that the Imperial army was the most organised and efficient force the world has ever seen and I’ve tried to emulate that in my time at Velutio.” He sighed. “But when you think you’re doing it right, and you still have to worry about loyalty, something’s got to be wrong.”
Cialo smiled and leaned back against the wall.
“Sir…” the sergeant began and then changed his mind. “Gaius… “
Sabian blinked. No one called him by his given name. Apart from the fact that a ranker addressing an officer like that was something that just wasn’t done, he wasn’t aware that any of the men even knew that name. He was so surprised he realised he hadn’t even interrupted and the sergeant had gone on.
“You are Gaius Vibius Sabianus of a noble house and commander of the most powerful army to be found in the Empire. I don’t like to speak out of turn, but I’m not a great believer in any of the causes for war these days and I’m not really sure why people even join the armies now, apart from the fact that it’s better to live well and die young than to starve into old age. You have loyalty among your men because you’re a good man and a good commander and you look after your own. If you’d been twenty years older you’d have been an Imperial officer of some standing in the old army I reckon.”
Sabian smiled. Cialo was the quintessential sergeant and he realised he was coming to rely more and more on the man over the days here. He cleared his throat.
“Well, it looks like not everyone shares your opinion. Something’s going on here. Someone’s been secretly signalling the mainland from the room we were in earlier. I don’t believe it was Ursus though. One of the guilty ones has to be Velutio’s own physician, though he may have friends among the men. You and I and young Darius are going to have a word with the doctor and see just what he’s been up to. Darius is bringing him now.”
The commander was gratified to note the vicious look that flashed across the sergeant’s face. The veteran growled “I’ll rip his balls off!”
Sabian smiled and shook his head. “I want to make sure it was him and see if he has accomplices, then I’ll decide what we’re going to do with him. I’m not going to torture the man; that’s his Lordship’s way not mine, but I’m not particularly inclined to be lenient either.”
The sergeant sat up straight. “You’re not going to let him off?”
Again the commander smiled. “I doubt it, but I want to see what he has to say first.”
The two sat in silence for a long time until they heard footsteps in the entry corridor. The doctor’s head emerged around the pillar of the arch, peering with difficulty into the gloom of a large room lit only be two small oil lamps.
“Commander?”
The man edged into the room and Sabian spotted Darius standing behind him. The commander rose, aware instantly that Cialo was right beside him.
“Doctor, come in.” Reaching out, Sabian lit another lamp he’d noted in the next alcove when he arrived. The light in the room increased to an easier level though the doctor hesitated, Sabian noted, before moving into the room. Darius, right behind him with a hand on his sword hilt, had a face like thunder. The doctor smiled uneasily but his voice betrayed no fear.
“You wanted to talk to me commander?”
Sabian’s teeth flashed in the lamp light. His hand made two small, subtle gestures that only Cialo would understand and with quiet speed the man sidestepped the doctor and joined Darius in cutting off the exit. The sergeant folded his arms for a moment but then smiled broadly and picked up a heavy bladed shovel-axe from the corridor.
The commander stepped forward and grasped Velutio’s physician by the tunic, gripping a handful of linen and twisting, bringing the man close to his face and lifting him onto his toes. If only the doctor could have seen the predatory smiles on the two men behind him blocking the exit.
“Doctor,” he growled, “you will begin by telling me who you have been signalling from that room. You will then tell me exactly what you have said. I want to know who else on the island knows about you or is in league with you and how and why you found it necessary to poison one of my men. If you answer me readily and I think you’re telling the truth, you may even leave this building with all your limbs. If you lie to me even once, I will give you to the sergeant, who knows how to deal with traitors.”
The doctor swallowed nervously. Behind him, Cialo muttered something to Darius and they both grinned. The word ‘gut’ was the only one that Sabian caught and, but from the doctor’s expression he’d heard also. The man spluttered; his face had gone red.
Sabian smiled and bunched the tunic a little tighter. “You can talk now, doctor. It’s your turn.”
The man shook his head as best he could in the tight clinch. “I really don’t know what you mean commander. I’m just a doctor here with a pa…”
Sabian tightened the knot, almost cutting off the man’s breath, but after a moment he let go of the tunic and the doctor dropped back to the floor. A wave of relief broke on him but too soon for when he looked up, Sabian was drawing a sword from the scabbard at his side.
“You can’t do this,” the doctor demanded. “His lordship will have you crucified!”
The commander smiled, looking up at the doctor with his head still bowed. The flash of his cruel eyes matched by the twinkling of the blade in the lamp light were truly menacing and Darius had to give the doctor some credit; some people would be weeping for mercy by now under that gaze. Sabian realised that the doctor truly believed he would abide by whatever the man said just because of their joint allegiance to Lord Velutio.
“Is that your last word on the subject?” he enquired. The next sentence would seal it so he waited, his eyes and blade still glittering unpleasantly in the guttering light.
“I’ll see you pay for this” the doctor declared haughtily.
Behind the doctor, the sergeant’s deeper voice said “I doubt it!”
Sabian saw Cialo raising the shovel blade in the light of the tunnel. The sergeant was clearly incensed and meant to bury the shovel in the doctor’s head. Darius’ sword was also out. The commander sighed. “Put your weapons down gentlemen. Neither of you’re going to harm him.”
He saw Cialo blink as the shovel faltered. Darius’ sword dipped toward the floor and Sabian turned his back on the man with deliberate slowness, noting as he turned the sleazy victorious smile on the doctor’s face. The smile was still there as Sabian picked up speed in his turn and the sword flicked out. The smile was still there as the blade cut through muscle and sinew and cleaved the bone. The smile was still there as the head bearing it rolled across the floor and into the gutter leading to the main drain.
He let the blade drop toward the floor and smiled coldly over the slowly collapsing body at the two in the archway.
“That’s my job.”
The rest of the corpse slumped against the wall, leaking out onto the floor. A torrent of red pumped from the neck and pooled behind dams of broken plaster and tile before running in rivulets into the drainage system. The commander stepped back toward the doorway, kicking the head gently and knocking it back toward the body.
Sabian cleared his throat. “Cialo, I’m going to have a little word with the men in the morning. I want to make sure that this piece of shit had no friends among our companies. Darius, you might as well head back and get something to eat. We’re going to be quite busy tonight I think.”
The young man shook his head. “I’ll help you get rid of this first and anyway I think that whatever you’re in now, I’m in too. You can probably rule out any conspiracy among my island kin. None of the prisoners would be reporting to Velutio, I can assure you.
Sabian stood still for a moment and then nodded. He wasn’t so sure.
“Ok. Let’s throw him in the sea and then go get something to eat while we talk.”
A short while later the remains of the highest paid doctor in the greatest city in the world disappeared into the sea with two splashes unheard by any but those responsible and the few bats flitting around the trees. Out across the bay amid the twinkling lights of Velutio, one flashed repeatedly, invisible to the unaware and completely unanswered.