The funeral was short and Spartan, but well-attended and with full honours. Sarios had dealt with every funeral here in twenty years, so Ursus was in good company. Throughout the whole thing, however, Sabian’s mind had been elsewhere. He’d watched the three men the minister had named throughout the entire service but none of them had betrayed any sign of nerves. His real problems were how to go about the legality of proving treachery in the guard Captain and how to disprove anything the man accused him of. After all, his lordship was hardly likely to be in a welcoming and forgiving mood. The last lines of the prayers to the local spirits brought him back to the present. Velutio would be here in about half an hour.
Cialo and Iasus stood at attention, awaiting the command to fall out. Most of the island’s population were in attendance despite their lack of connection with the man, but they stood still, perhaps unsure of whether to leave before the soldiers. Well let them watch. He turned to the six companies of men and cleared his throat.
“Soldiers Rufus, Carbo and Kasta! Front and centre!”
The three men fell out of their units and stepped out to the front, lining up shoulder to shoulder though, Sabian noted with some satisfaction, unhappily and a little hesitantly. He drew breath to speak again.
“These three men are guilty of treason and mutiny. In conspiracy with the doctor from Velutio and one of the island’s elders who will be dealt with under local law, these three men have been undermining my command on Isera, feeding information to an outside source and disobeying orders. As co-conspirators they are also a party to the murder of trooper Ursus.”
He paused to let this all sink in. To their credit, the three soldiers continued to stand at attention, unwavering. He folded his hands behind his back and addressed the men again.
“I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that I encourage traditional values in my army and I expect most of you can tell me what the punishment was for both treason and mutiny in the ranks?”
The blood of the men was rising now. Sabian had a good reputation among his men and he knew it. Those who betrayed him, betrayed them, and in the current setting the murder of Ursus hung over them like a cloud. A number of voices cried out “stoning” or “death” among the general murmur of outrage and disgust.
There was some wavering among the three now, but they still didn’t break. Sabian nodded. Very well, he would give them the black news now.
“Stoning. Indeed.” He rocked on his heels. “Unless anyone else would like to speak up in favour of these three?”
The silence was deafening. Sabian nodded.
“Very well, according to military law you’re all three hereby sentenced to death. I’ll give you one chance to make it quick, though. Tell me what information has been sent to whom so that I can confirm my suspicions and I’ll grant you a clean soldier’s death, by the sword. Otherwise your comrades will take you away for a slow and painful way out. Now is your time to decide.”
The three dropped from attention as Kasta glanced across at the others.
“We’re going to die anyway!” he growled in a thick accent of the Northern provinces.
Carbo held his arm out to the mousey-haired northerner. “’ave you ever seen a man stoned to death? It’s a fuckin’ nightmare.” He turned and took a step toward Sabian. “Give me the sword sir.” A moment or so later, Rufus joined him, nodding. Sabian eyed them coldly and then glanced across at Kasta, who was scanning the crowd around him, his head moving wildly and a panicky look in his eye. The commander spied Iasus behind him and the sergeant nodded.
The moment Kasta broke and made a run for the orchard, Iasus and two of his men were already on his heels. Sabian cast his eyes across the other two who daren’t even look after the escaping soldier. He gazed behind them at the troops.
“Cialo and four men with me. The rest of you know what to do!”
The grizzled sergeant and four of the men behind him stepped up to join the commander, while the rest turned, their fury still high and empowering their blood as they chased down the fleeing man. Sabian paid no attention to the cries and shouts among the trees. Kasta would be caught long before he ever reached a door and Iasus had both the authority and the will to carry out the appropriate punishment. The commander brought his attention back to the two in front of him.
“I’ve never had a problem with either of you? Why then?”
Carbo hung his head. “It’s not you sir. You’re a good man an’ no one was meant to get ‘urt.” He stopped but Sabian just let the silence reign until the soldier spoke again. “We nearly came to you anyway after the doc told us what ‘appened to Ursus, but we reckoned we was too deep in it by then.” Again a pause filled only by the man continuing. “It was that Crosus sir. ‘E ‘ates you sir.”
Confirmation at last. Quietly, Sabian replied “I know.”
Rufus picked up where his friend had left off. “He was going to get us commissions in the guard, what with him being their commander…”
“ Captain ,” corrected Sabian.
“Yessir. Anyways, they get paid about four times what we do and they live in the palace. Crosus just wanted you to look bad. I think he wants you to look sort of soft sir. Think he wants your job.”
Sabian nodded. “He does want my job. And I suppose it was the doctor who sent all the information, yes? He seemed to be very tight-lipped with it all.”
The soldiers nodded and Sabian took a deep breath. “Well I’m sure my leniency here has armed Crosus with more than enough ammunition to cripple me. You all did your job quite well.”
He looked across them at Cialo and nodded. “Take them somewhere private. Make it clean and fast and they’re to be put next to Ursus.”
The gruff sergeant nodded and the two soldiers, resigned looks about them, trooped off towards the Water Gate accompanied by Cialo and his men. He watched them go and suddenly realised that the island audience had not moved since the funeral. Inwardly he cursed himself for not having dismissed them before he talked to the traitors. Still, they already knew he’d been lenient and one or two of them were perceptive enough to have guessed he’d landed himself in trouble. Well he may not make is past Velutio, but he’d sure as hell make certain Crosus saw the sharp end of it all first. He turned to the assembled islanders who were all watching him intently, some curious, some approving, some even horrified. It took him a moment to notice Sarios standing deep in huddled conversation with Darius. He sighed.
“It would be a good idea for you all to go about your business. Lord Velutio will be here presently and I very much suspect you’ll then see a change of command in Isera.”
Without waiting for comment, he turned and strode off into the orchard, following the sounds of violent affray. It was not hard to find the scene. Kasta hadn’t even made it out of the edge of the wood, as a trail of blood made clear. Iasus had had the taste and presence of mind not to do this among the islander’s fruit-bearing trees. He found the hundred or so men by the south wall on the cliff. The broken, tattered and bloody remains of the northerner were in a pile against the stone wall base. There were blood, brains, guts and chips of bone in an arc around the unrecognisable pile of offal. The last few stones were still being thrown now, despite the fact that the man had probably been dead after the first volley. This was an expression of the loathing of a unit for betrayal in their midst and for all the unpleasantness of the sight, Sabian felt a rush of pride in his men. They were proper soldiers, not poncy fair-weather troops like the guard. Still, he was running out of time. He cleared his throat loudly and the companies fell silent and parted to allow him through. Iasus stood at the front; for the first time Sabian could remember the sergeant looked weary.
“Sergeant. Detail a few men to get a sack and fetch the remains across to the other orchard. I want them nailed and tied to that crucifix Cialo built last week.”
Again the pride in his men. Not one of them argued or questioned. Iasus didn’t even have to detail someone, as several people went for the body straight away. Nodding in satisfaction, he turned to head out toward the dock. If he was going to fall from grace today, he was going to make a blazing statement out of the whole event, and he’d take certain people with him.
A quarter of an hour later, Sabian stood on the path before the Gorgon Gate. Four companies of men in full gear stood at attention on the lawns, two on either side. The rest manned the gate and the top of the walls. The islanders all stood in the Ibis Courtyard, with Sarios at their head. The commander hadn’t wanted them out front in case things went too sour too quickly and his Lordship merely landed troops to make a clean sweep of it. To his left, just a few yards off the path, an unrecognisable mass of body parts and innards was tied and nailed to a T-shape. If one looked for a while it was possible to pick out an eye; a hand; a foot. Doctor Favio had suggested the wood be smothered with some oil or other and flowers placed at the base to help cover the smell that threatened to make them gag. Sabian had refused. He had a message to put over as plainly as he could.
And now Velutio was striding up the path. No shock to Sabian to see Crosus at his shoulder along with a dozen of the personal guard in dress uniforms. He almost laughed. To think some of his own men had wanted to be that. He could only imagine how quickly those men would get butchered on a real battlefield. He stepped forward as Velutio reached him.
“Your lordship.”
Velutio had been walking with his head lowered but now he raised his face and his pure rage shone in his face. He’d never seen the lord like that. Velutio got cold and calculating, not red and furious. His lordship thrust an accusing finger into Sabian’s face.
“Tell me why I shouldn’t have Crosus here kill you where you stand!”
Sabian almost laughed; this was too surreal. If he was that deep in, why not just ride the wave of insanity. He spoke lightly and with a humorous lilt.
“Firstly, because you need me considerably more than you need him. Secondly because I am in the right and I’ve done nothing wrong.” His gaze came to rest on Crosus. “And thirdly, because if this trained ape tried to spit me I’d have to hand him back to you in slices my lord.”
It was amazing when you knew it was a lost cause how easy it was to speak your mind. His words did nothing to mollify Velutio, but they’d provoked a huge anger in the captain. Sabian almost laughed again when he saw the purple colour of Crosus’ face and the whitening of the man’s knuckles on the hilt of his sword.
Velutio squared his shoulders. “Commander, you’ve picked up a very nasty habit of gainsaying and back-talking me since you came to this place. That is not the attitude of a trusted officer.”
Sabian raised an eyebrow. “Indeed my lord? I would have thought that was exactly the attitude you need from a trusted officer? Yes-men will just nod and agree as you slip all the way down the slope. You need someone who argues. I have never done you disservice.”
The lord turned his iron grey head and glanced at Crosus who was still shaking with anger and then back to Sabian again. “Nevertheless, the captain went to a great deal of time and effort to get a spy working within this community and suddenly last night, we stopped getting reports. Why is that I wonder, and where might my personal physician be?”
Sabian felt the ground gradually slipping away beneath him.
“The spy, your physician my lord, murdered one of my men and had been feeding you reports in a bad light in order to augment this shit-head’s ever growing reputation and power base.” He pointed at Crosus. “This man’s been buying off my troops, bribing islanders and having good men murdered just to get him that little bit closer to my job.” He suddenly realised an opportunity open to him here.
“And he can have it. By dead man’s boots if he cares to try.”
Crosus actually lunged forward, but Velutio held out an arm to stop him.
“I will not have you duelling or even besmirching the name of my guard while you stand under such taint. You deliberately disobeyed my orders at every turn and appear to have ‘gone native’.” The last phrase almost caused him to spit. “You never sent one person to the crucifix, which was a direct order.” As he spoke, his eyes strayed to the mess on his right. A startled look crossed his face, which pleased Sabian no end. In fact the Gods might be with the commander after all today for, as Velutio noticed the crucified pulp, so the wind chose that very moment to double back on itself and carry the reek across both his lordship and the captain. Velutio merely turned back to the commander, his nostrils dancing in the miasma, and raised one eyebrow.
Sabian grinned. “One of Crosus’ turncoats. I don’t like traitors in my army.”
He watched the changes of expression and colour in the captain’s face with immense satisfaction while Crosus battled against the smell, the anger and now the uncertainty. Without letting either of them recover, Sabian continued. “The two men who sang me a whole long story died well and they’re buried next to the veteran that Crosus had killed.” His smile widened. “As for your doctor, he wouldn’t cooperate at all, so I’m afraid I had to send him fishing without a head. Probably a good thing for you though my lord.”
Velutio had not moved. “How so commander?”
Again Sabian smiled. “I suspect if you tell me what reports you’ve had and I tell you the truth, you’ll find glaring errors. You see I rather think that the doctor was receiving a higher wage from Crosus than from yourself. In fact” he said, tipping his head to one side with a thought that hadn’t occurred to him before, “I wonder whether the captain’s long-term plan doesn’t involve knocking me out of the game and then having you poisoned? Perhaps the murder here was a test-run was it Crosus?”
Again the big captain, his features red and furious made a lunge for Sabian and again Velutio prevented him. Sabian opened his mouth to rile the captain further, but a voice behind called out “commander!” Sabian’s head swung around and he spotted the minister standing in the shadows of the Gorgon Gate with Darius at his side. Sarios was still in his priestly garb from the funeral and the white robe accentuated the black eye patch disconcertingly. He wondered when the doctor was going to try and deal with that. Darius was still wearing his leathers and bore the sword at his side. He smiled. Why not go the whole hog? This would make the lord and the captain as angry as anything.
“Excuse me for a moment my lord.”
Even as Velutio opened his mouth to order Sabian to be still, the commander turned and strolled slowly and unconcerned up to the gate. Once in the shadows and out of earshot of the others he looked back down to see Velutio and Crosus in a heated debate. Good. Friction would help. He turned back to the minister.
“Well timed gentlemen. Can I help you?”
Sarios thrust his arms out to the sides. “What the hell are you doing commander? You’re going to get yourself killed!”
Sabian smiled. “I think that’s kind of academic now. Velutio’s got too much on me and I’ve got no defence. I just want to make them angry enough that I get a chance to gut Crosus before I go.”
Darius and the minister exchanged glances and, with a saddened look, the old man nodded at his charge. Darius turned back to the commander and withdrew something from the recesses of his tunic, thrusting it into Sabian’s hands, keeping his back to the scene below.
“What’s this?”
Sarios let out a long breath. “The one thing we have kept from you at all costs.” Sabian began to unroll the battered scroll and his eyes widened as he recognised the island on the map, the reef systems, and finally several marked safe channels. He whistled through his teeth. Sarios continued “and the only thing that might save your reputation here.
Sabian thrust the scroll back at Darius. “I don’t even want to know this exists.”
Sarios grinned. “You don’t think I haven’t made a copy, do you?” Watching the slow smile form on the commander’s face, he added “and I assume that Velutio will be on the track of young Quintillian by now.”
Sabian nodded. “Velutio has spies and mercenary units pretty much everywhere. If they haven’t found him yet it won’t be long.”
The minister stood for a moment tapping his chin with his finger. He seemed to reach a decision. “Tell Velutio that Quintillian and his companions landed just outside Serfium a little over a month ago.” He dismissed Sabian who was waving his arms trying to shut the minister up. “The three of them then went to Calvion to acquire money. After that they were to get as far away from the sea as possible.”
Sabian shook his head. “I’m not going to do that. I’m not going to be the one responsible for you betraying your people.
The minister smiled. “It’s not the whole truth commander, but enough of it to get you off the hook. I doubt it will make any difference to Quintillian’s chances.”
Sabian stood for a long moment staring at the pair. Finally he nodded and, tucking the charts away beneath his cloak, strode back down the hill to where Velutio watched him impatiently.
“Nothing wrong I trust commander?” his lordship said coldly and sarcastically.
Sabian smiled. “No sir. Just conferring on a point of law with the minister. He does, after all, have a remarkable command of legal knowledge. It seems that I’m quite entitled with the amount of evidence and the number of witnesses I have to demand trial and punishment for the captain here.”
Again Crosus’ face went purple as he spluttered angrily. Velutio raised an eyebrow. “You’re going to ask me to put my personal guard on trial?”
Sabian grinned. “Actually no. I’m going to demand he face me in trial by combat. Then we’ll see how much he really matters.”
Velutio shook his head. “I’m still trying to decide whether it’s you who should be on trial here.”
Sabian nodded. “Then let it be that way round. My trial by combat. So long as I get to face this armoured monkey I’ll be happy.” He reached into his cloak and withdrew chart Darius had given him. “You might want to hold this though my lord. It’s quite important and I’d hate to see it get skewered.”
Again Velutio’s brow arched as he took the scroll. Unrolling it, Sabian was gratified to note genuine surprise on the face of his master.
“Where did you get these?” Velutio demanded.
The commander smiled. “I know you want me to be a despot, but I prefer to be fair. Being fair gets results too you know sir.” He flexed his fingers. “I don’t care whose trial it is my lord, but only one of us is leaving this place: him or me.”
Behind Velutio, Crosus nodded, his hand around the hilt of his sword.
The lord stopped for a moment and then finally, nodding, stepped aside. As Sabian and Crosus both drew their swords and swung them a couple of times, Cialo and Iasus gave orders and the four companies on the grass fanned out into a circle of shields around the two officers. Crosus, armoured in a shiny steel cuirass with leather strops protecting the thighs and upper arms, swung a long, straight sword in wide sweeps. Sabian in his very traditional cuirass, much like that of Crosus but less ornate, swung his slightly curved blade in figure eights.
The first lunge came from Crosus, disguised initially as another practice swing of the sword. As the blade came to the top of its arc, he took a massive step forward and brought the sword down in a one handed sweep toward Sabian’s head. The commander saw the lumbering move from the start and neatly sidestepped the heavy blade. As the point dug into the turf, Sabian trotted past his opponent, flicking out once with his blade and carving a line across the captain’s thigh. Pieces of four of the protective leather strops dropped to the ground and blood welled up beneath the breeches within. Crosus growled.
Sabian came to a halt directly behind his opponent but made no use of the obvious opening created as the captain wrenched his blade from the ground and tottered back to face him. He was determined to make this as slow and painful as possible for Crosus. He’d like the opportunity to make him bleed from every surface and maybe even die from that before he could deliver a killing blow. He also had to prove a point about superiority to Velutio. He smiled.
Crosus took a couple of slow steps toward him and swung the blade out to one side. Too slow and too obvious by far. By the time the sword came swinging back toward Sabian’s side, the commander dropped to the floor and came up from a roll behind the swinging edge, jabbing once with the point of his own sword and drawing more blood from the same thigh. He was rewarded with a grunt of pain from the burly captain. If this was all the man had, it’d be a short task. Crosus staggered with the weight of his swinging blade on his injured leg and had to allow a couple of steps back to regain his balance.
The captain righted himself and took up a defensive stance. He was learning from his mistakes. There would be no more stupid lunges. Sabian took a couple of steps forward, daring Crosus to strike again and the captain fell for it with no prior thought. He swung the sword, but in a much tighter, more controlled arc and Sabian raised his own blade, parrying with a flash and a scraping of steel on steel that set the watchers’ teeth on edge. With a quick recovery, he struck again and Sabian parried once more, knocking his opponent’s blade to one side. Again he flicked out quickly with his blade, drawing a red line across the captain’s extended forearm. Another grunt.
Taking the advantage, the commander pushed forward with a swing over his shoulder. The captain parried clumsily, but turned the blade aside. Good. He’d not expected to connect, but to gauge the reactions of his opponent. What he didn’t expect was the blow that landed. Although the sword had gone wide, the captain had swung around with his fist and punched Sabian in the jaw. The commander staggered back across the grass, his face throbbing with the blow. Damn he should have been more careful. Shaking the daze from his head he righted himself, realising that Crosus had followed up on the blow and was bringing his sword around and up in an arc. Despite his wounded leg, the captain was still moving surprisingly steadily. Sabian leaned heavily to one side and the blade whistled through the air where his shoulder had been a moment before. He gritted his teeth. The captain was starting to get a grip now, so he’d have to either unbalance the man again or pick up the pace and actually finish it.
Crosus came back into a defensive stance again and grinned at him.
“Come on you cheap whore. Fight me like a man.”
Sabian shook his head. There was no way he was going to let this idiot goad him into doing something stupid. “Whatever you say ape man.”
With a smile, he flicked the sword out to the left and withdrew it in a blur, sweeping out to the right with it. He was rewarded as Crosus pulled back to parry a blow that never came, the sharp edge instead slicing deep into his other arm. There would be no more punches from that arm. Crosus shambled back into his stance once more, starting to look less balanced. The loss of blood was working on him; his leg and arm were both drenched in scarlet rivulets and pools on the grass told of how much strength he was losing.
Enough was enough. It was no real effort and there was no glory in this. Dragging it out no longer mattered; time for a coup de grace.
With deliberate slowness, he raised the sword for an overhead blow. The captain saw the blade rise and, turning slightly, brought his own up for an overhead parry. Just as the blade reached its apex, however, Sabian spun to face away from his opponent and changed his grip on the hilt. The surprised captain didn’t have time to bring his own sword back down before Sabian’s came thrusting out behind him, gripped in both hands, shearing up through Crosus’ leather strops and deep into his armpit. Sabian fell backwards with the blade and drove the length of steel deep into the man’s chest until the sword stopped, point lodged against the opposite shoulder blade. Crosus stopped, going momentarily rigid, the blade still held aloft in his hand and his life essence pumping wildly from his armpit. He stared at Sabian in surprise and died where he stood, still transfixed by the commander’s blade. As life fled the body and the muscles relaxed Sabian staggered under the weight, withdrawing his sword with some difficulty and allowing the corpse to crumple to the grass, blood pooling beneath it.
Heaving a deep breath, he straightened and turned to face his master. Velutio stood with his arms folded, his face expressionless. Digging his sword point first into the turf and leaving it swaying gently, Sabian walked slowly towards him.
“My Lord. I am innocent of any wrongdoings this heap of shit made you aware of. His own power games required that he make me look weak and take my position from under me. You may not be happy with what I’ve just done, but in the long run I’ve done you a favour.”
Velutio merely stood watching the commander intently, so Sabian cleared his throat. “I also have some news about the youngster, Quintillian.”
The older man shook his head.
“I’m glad to hear that, but it’s irrelevant now. I already have leads on him. He’s travelling with a group of mercenaries of some reputation to the north. I have a number of my own mercenary units tracking them down so they won’t be at liberty for long.”
Sabian nodded, trying to keep his own thoughts at the back of his mind. Today wasn’t the day for brooding sentimentality. “So what happens now?”
Velutio turned and began to walk slowly up the path toward the shade of the Gorgon Gate where Darius and the minister stood. “Now I need you back in the city. There are no problems here and plenty of people on the trail of Quintillian. There’s been some speaking out against me in the city of Helus and rumours of a rebel army massing in the hills above the place. As a vassal state of mine any hint of an uprising is unacceptable, so I want you to take the army down there and put down any resistance you meet.” He stopped and faced the commander, who had been matching his pace. “Here’s your chance to show me what you really are worth commander.”
Sabian nodded. “And the island sir?”
“I think,” replied the lord, “that you should leave three companies under one of your sergeants here as a permanent garrison. I don’t want anything like this happening again.”
Another nod. Cialo would relish the opportunity, he was sure. Equally, Iasus would like to get back to the city. The commander glanced up at the gatehouse and the two figures watching them intently as they approached. The island would be fine now, though he’d miss the opportunities to talk and spar with Darius. Still, who knew what the future held in these days.