Sapphire and Dubaku were where I had left them. Dubaku watched over Sapphire, who slept on, oblivious. 'Will he live?'
'Yes,' Dubaku said.
Good. I had some questions for him, when he woke, but it would just have to wait until then.
A city soldier walked past, glanced in, met my gaze and moved on. There were plenty of people striding about the vaults, glancing in as they passed, and they almost all passed. But not everyone ignored me. Kerral had sought me out, stood in the doorway and said a few words before going away again. As Lentro had started to say, they could not attack Kukran. The amulet inhibited them. That wasn't in the history books and I had silently resolved to do some research and write a more accurate history. I decided I would also write one telling of my experiences and the end of the thing. I only asked him one question. Where was the amulet now? He told me that Hettar had destroyed it. There were witnesses. “We all watched him do it, there was no mistake.”
“We will not suffer a tyrant to live.”
He had nodded and we had held each others gaze for a long moment, and then he left, leaving much unsaid. Maybe another day we would talk; maybe not. However that went, our friendship would never be the same.
I drank. Dubaku watched me. Sapphire slept. A slave found me, bringing fresh clothes. He didn't say much. Nor did I. I had no idea who sent him. I didn't much care to know. He left to find some food for me and I put on the fresh clothes, feeling little better for it. Then I drank some more and wallowed in self pity for a while. I might have achieved much but I had gained nothing. Maybe, if people reported favorably, I might get away with not being exiled. I had failed to rescue Tahal, though he was free, and damned if I knew now whose side he had been on or much cared. I had still lost my first command. Had raised troops without authority. Was still a drunk. – now more so than ever; addicted for life, probably.
Later, another slave sought me out with a letter from Jocasta
I sipped my beer and read the letter. It was brief.
My Dearest Sumto,
My brother and sister are in the camp and I cannot be rid of them. My reputation, of course, is ruined and they are furious with me. I am afraid they are going to be difficult. So long as I share their name I will not be free. I have heard conflicting accounts but understand that you are alive and well. I am very relieved. Give up on nothing you desire. All things can be yours if you are willing to fight for them.
Jocasta
I noted she had signed only her first name and thought about that for a while. Maybe, one day, I would have something to offer her. But that day was not today.
I took another swig, tucked the letter away to think about later, and went back to brooding. I'd lost my armor and weapons. My father would not be pleased about that. But they had to be around somewhere, and like my one carat signet ring, it might be found and returned to me. I couldn't remember who had it; Sheo, or one of the others. The one on my forehead would stay, of course. No getting rid of it. And with it there would always be people who would be able to find me. It occurred to me that if they were friends that might be useful, but it applied equally to enemies.
An old soldier walked into the room, glanced at us, clearly taking in Dubaku, squatting on the floor, and the inert figure of Sapphire and myself, drunk and leaning against a barrel from which I was even then pulling another draft. He shrugged, clearly deciding he had taken drink in worse company, then hunted out a drinking jack and poured himself a beer.
“This is my beer,” I told him.
“I'll buy it from you,” he grinned, pulling out a coin and tossing it into my lap. I let it lay there. “Not a bad haul,” he said, perching on a barrel.
Loot. I didn't know if I would actually get any. After all, I had not been with the army that had actually taken the Eyrie. But, the stronghold had surrendered to me. I could argue a case, and would when the time came. I wouldn't give up. “How much?”
He started reeling off figures he had obviously pre-calculated. “Commander in chief, one million. Commanders, half a million. Command staff and mages two hundred thousand. Equestes and First centurions a hundred thousand. Centurions fifty thousand. Infantry five thousand.” He made a gesture with his hand and shrugged lightly. “Roughly,” he grinned a gap-toothed grin and winked. “That'll buy us some beer, eh laddie?”
Hell, even if I only got five thousand it was better than nothing. And for what? Less than a month of my life? I can do that, I thought, raising the beer to my lips and taking a big gulp. After all it couldn't always be this hard, could it? March a bit, fight a battle, take some loot. It almost seemed easy. Maybe I'd just renounce my status as patron and join up. To hell with my family, to hell with everything. Yes, I decided, knowing, that's what I would do. I would write to my father, telling him, and to the council of patrons, telling them. Then I would be free to find my own way. I knew I was drunk, knew would change my mind later, but for now was happy enough with the decision and didn't worry about it.
I downed a big gulp of beer, smiled back at the gap toothed old soldier who was sitting quietly, sipping his own beer and eying me speculatively.
“So,” I said, “that's good then.”
