other four are good men but I haven't known them long. And, as a bonus you can take the two hundred I owe you.”
He frowned at my levity.
“I've never recruited.”
“Figure it out. How hard can it be? Get as many as you can get. A cohort would be perfect if you can get so many. Get them in shape and ready by the time we arrive. Take only landowners or veterans. No nobles.” I kept overriding him with instructions. “Better for us if they are all veterans. One year or the duration of this campaign only. The usual pay, small advances on signing up, and the usual shares of the booty. You'll have to assign centurions but make sure they know I'll be changing things. And get a banner made, you know what to put on it.”
He stopped trying to protest and started nodding at each point. “I'll prep a roadside fort. Will I have enough money to keep them fed and watered until you arrive?”
“Good question,” I raised my voice. “Meran!
My ugly slave was inside the tent in seconds and I gave him a smile. I was feeling generous.
“How much money in the war chest?”
“Twelve thousand four hundred and seventy silver.”
I nodded thanks. Plenty. “Get me some maps of Gerria and the surrounding areas.”
As soon as he was gone I started doing math out loud. “A silver will feed a man for a week so six hundred times four is two thousand four hundred, say three thousand to allow for delays. Six hundred silver for recruiting fees. Your expenses the same, so another twelve hundred. So four thousand two hundred. Round that up to five thousand for unforeseen problems. Sound okay to you?”
“Alone on the road with five thousand silver?”
He had a point. It could all go horribly wrong. The roadwardens kept the roads free of bandits and thieves. Free trade is the lifeblood of the city. Trade is money and money is power. “Ride fast.”
“What's in it for me?”
I grinned. Greed. Damn but I loved the honest avarice of our class, of our people. “Best you be my second in command with an appropriate share of the booty.”
He gave a nod of agreement. “See you in three weeks.”
“With luck. You'll hear rumor of our coming. Watch the locals, there may be spies. Keep them out of the camp. Careful who you buy food from.”
“Sumto, I know as much about warfare as you do.”
“Probably more,” I agreed cheerfully. That was a lie, or half-truth at best. He had some practical experience, but I did not doubt I had more knowledge. I had read everything on the subject, and thought about it.
“I also know the law as well as you do. You have no imperium.”
I shrugged it off. “Technically we are all kings, my friend.”
“Don't joke.”
Technically we were in an interregnum as someone on the council of patrons would always veto anyone who was proposed to become king. The title held no power or prestige and it was to avoid the stigma attached to the title that friends or allies vetoed the nomination. It had been going on a goof few years. Without a king the few duties of the title devolved, in fact the title itself, devolved upon every nobleman of the city. King for a day or a bit of a king every day, and the king could raise an army if he wanted to. Actually a bodyguard but in the numbers I was thinking that would do.
“I am of age and from a patronial family as old as the city. Technically I'm right and you know it. So the council might not agree and might prosecute…”
“Someone will prosecute, you aren't without enemies, Sumto.”
“…might prosecute if my letter to my father doesn't bear fruit.”
“What letter?”
“I just thought of it and won't write it yet, but I can get him to write me an authority as an emergency measure. He is a proconsul and has a perfect legal right to do so. And even if someone does prosecute it will make a good story, and what's the worst that can happen?”
We moved to the entrance and stepped out into the dusk. Our camp fire was lit and a servant was cooking up the rations that had been passed out. Kerral sat on a stool outside the tent he shared with Sheo. The susurration of hundreds of conversations, both near and far, filled the air with an almost familiar current; the odd louder sound, physical or verbal, just a known counterpoint. Of my charges, the healers were louder and more jovial, the battle mages quieter and more secretive. I could hear and not hear them in exactly the proportions I already expected. I felt like I had always been here, like I belonged.
We crossed to Kerral, who stood as I came close, and quietly informed him of what I intended. He nodded his approval, not quite smiling but clearly pleased. I hoped he would still be pleased at the end of the year.
“Exile.” It was Kerral who answered the question after having repeated Sheo's warnings.
“So I accept the risk. Any questions?”
At that moment Meran arrived with my maps so there were none. I unrolled them one at a time then and there until I had what I wanted. I gave the map of southern Gerria a cursory glance until I found what I wanted in the territory of the client kingdom of Wherrel. “The town of Yuprit. Don't camp close enough to upset anyone.”
I left the map with him and went back into my tent, taking Meran with me.
“I need you to steal something.”
“It's what I live for.”
“If you get caught you won't live.”
“Oh good. I'm so lucky to have such a considerate master, some of you city nobles are right bastards.”
“If you want to say no say no.”
“What is it?”
“A white rod.”
He closed his eyes and deliberately didn't let out the explosive breath that he just managed to catch behind his pressed lips. Then he let it out. Slowly. “There are only two close. Either one will be missed.”
“I need one.”
“Make one.”
“What?”
“It's a rod made out of white wood with two gold tips, quite plain. Easy to make.”
I gave it a moment's thought. “I don't know how to make anything.”
“I do, master. Leave it to me. Safer than stealing and no one will know the difference. When do you need it?”
“By dawn?”
He gave me an openly filthy look. He didn't do that often, he is a slave after all. “Anything else?”
“No, Meran. Nothing else,” that I can think of at the moment.
After he'd left I spent a time studying the maps, I really wanted to know the territory of the Gerrian tribes. Then I joined Lentro and the other healers for the evening meal. By the time I made it to bed the simple camp cot felt almost comfortable.
11
Waking up before dawn was not as bad as I had been led to believe. I put on the armor my father had sent for me, magically enhanced and higher quality than the stuff Meran had acquired. He had sent two swords, a straight blade long enough to serve as a cavalry sword and yet be easily used on foot, and a much shorter sword that we commonly term an honor blade, not quite as long as my arm. Both were expensive items. There was also a shield suitable for use on horseback. And a belt which I recognized from the family armory, and knew that a stone had been sacrificed to create it. It would envelop me in a finger-wide shield of near invisible armor. With or without the chain I would have some protection.
Now I looked as I should and I was glad of it.
