Darius’ army. He stared back through the mist to where they were quartered, having pulled out of the front line, but not entirely abandoned the cause. Where they stood now was anyone’s guess and despite Velutio’s assuredness that they would remain where they were, Sabian was less sure.
Currently, after yet another blazing row with his lordship that had brought his close to either resigning or being dismissed, he was on his way to find a likeminded friend to have a drink with. He knew his position was safe now. Velutio couldn’t possibly dismiss his general on the eve of the most important battle he would ever fight, but Sabian could still walk away…
Ahead of him, Lord Dio’s flag fluttered above his tent. He’d really expected Dio to have been gone by now, but the old lord maintained his stand. He would see this new Emperor before he made up his mind.
A man brushed past him in the mist and made a slightly surprised sound. Sabian would normally have berated such an act, but the man was one of the Pelasian contingent and was unlikely to care what the commander had to say to him. The small Pelasian disappeared into the mist without even an apology. Such was the respect now in this army. Sabian grunted. He really had to talk to Dio. He seemed to be the only man in this entire army who still made any kind of sense.
Shahar Siliyad, right hand man of Ashar Parishid, true Prince and ruler of Pelasia smiled as he ambled down the hill. Sabian had been so obsessed with his various distresses he hadn’t even thought to question a Pelasian walking deep into the camps of the rest of the army. He could have laughed out loud, but tonight’s mission was far too important for that.
Making his way around the muddy turf lanes between banks of tents, he made for a specific camp fire. As the banner, a boar’s head above two lightning bolts, swum into view in the thick grey mist, he smiled more and removed general Caerdin’s list from his tunic. Running down the list of names with his stylus, he found the first one that had not been crossed off and made a mark next to it.
With a deep breath, he straightened himself and strode into the lit area of the campfire where Lord Irio’s men caroused as men will anywhere the night before a battle. Two men in blue tunics bearing the boar’s head stood and drew their swords.
“We’ve no dealings with Pelasian betrayers here,” one of them spat.
“That’s as maybe,” Shahar replied without letting his smile falter for a moment. “However, I bear a vital message for you lord and must see him now. You may search me for weapons if you wish and escort me to him. I assure you, you will not find any. “He laughed quietly. “Which is not to say that they aren’t there…”
The guardsmen muttered to each other for a moment and then one ran off toward a large tent at one end while the other stood glaring at the intruder in the misty darkness. No words were exchanged for several minutes as Shahar stood pleasantly whistling a lullaby tune from his childhood. Moments later, the other guards reappeared and nodded.
With no deference to the fact that in his home city, the small Pelasian would have outranked their lord, the two soldiers marched Shahar across the open ground and to the tent of their master. One entered, bowing and stood to one side, while the other ushered the Pelasian in at sword point. Shahar narrowed his eyes in the low light. Lord Irio was a barrel-chested man with a bushy moustache and thinning hair. He sat in his armour at a table, reading. Shahar was delighted to note, as he cast his professional eye around the room, that the text the man was reading was an ancient Pelasian lovers’ manual that was long outdated back home. He tried hard not to laugh and, instead, grinned at the barrel-chested lord.
“Lord Irio. I am most delighted to make your acquaintance. I realise that you have no reason to trust me, but I have important words and would speak to you alone. Rest assured that if death was my intention, you would probably be dead and I would not have announced my presence to your men.”
Irio waved the small man’s words aside and grunted to his two soldiers. “Get out. I think I can handle this midget.”
As the guards left, Shahar wandered over to the table and smiled again. “I would recommend page thirty seven personally.”
Irio’s face flashed with annoyance. “What’s your business?”
“It has come to our attention that you are not altogether content with this battle.” Irio made to speak, but Shahar continued blithely. “Please do not disgrace yourself with denial. I’m sure you’ve heard how accurate Pelasian intelligence can be.”
He took a seat opposite the lord whose colour was slowly rising.
“You see, I know that you are the lord of a fairly large estate and that in this battle you will be committing and losing many men that will make next year’s harvest tough for you. I know that you hope for grander office, but you know that Velutio has favourites above you and you will get nothing from this fight but loss. I know that you are not considered a nice or fair man, but still, my current master, the Emperor Darius, would like to offer you an alternative.”
Irio narrowed his eyes as he looked across the table. “Go on…”
Shahar smiled again as he reached for Irio’s glass of wine and took a sip with a look of distaste. “There is a way to end this without battle; without the war. The armies can go peacefully about their own business. This is an offer being made only to some few lords, so this is for your ears only. If you wish to end this peacefully and preserve your lands, visit the villa on the western hill just before dawn tomorrow. General Caerdin sends his personal oath that you will be unmolested and there will be no soldiers waiting for you.”
Irio watched him, doubtful and Shahar smiled. “Or don’t. It’s your choice.”
Chapter XXXV
Darius fumed at the leather strap on his breastplate. For some reason this morning he was having trouble with the simplest of things. In all honesty, he was struggling with a level of nervousness for which he was ill prepared, though to those around him he blamed lack of sleep. Finally feeding the leather strap through the buckle, he sighed and tightened the fastener.
“I swear that battles should be held later in the day; perhaps at a civilised noon-ish.”
Kiva grinned. “Need to start early, or we’d be fighting during the dark hours and that’s a nasty job. Want some help?”
Kiva himself had already been completely suited up barring his weapons and helmet when Darius had first arrived at his tent, followed by two of his guard carrying his own armour. He didn’t know why, but he felt the need to share this time with Kiva and, though there was still over an hour til dawn, he’d been awake and fretting early. Tythias seemed to be calm as a glassy sea on the other hand. Darius had passed him on the way; seen him making jokes with his cavalry commanders while his wife did her best to make him look presentable.
Balo, sitting in the corner of the tent with a bowl of grapes and a glass of goat’s milk, smiled. “I don’t really miss the old days that much you know. There’s not a lot that’s good comes out of a battle, but a good bowl of fruit is a joy.” The old mercenary still steadfastly refused to join the command party or even to don a uniform and sat in his travelling leathers.
Darius regarded him coldly. “I don’t understand how a man of your background can refuse to help us, Balo.”
“My Emperor, when you’re as old and as injured and…” he laughed wildly, “mentally unstable as I am,
Kiva nodded. “I won’t ask you to. Everything that happens here today has to be by choice. That’s what all this about.”
Darius shrugged. “I suppose you’re right. What do we do next then? You’re the one with the plan to organise.”
An enigmatic grin. “Don’t worry about that. The plan’s already well underway. You may have noticed Cialo and his men aren’t around. Their tents were packed up at nightfall last night. Now all that remains is for us to go as soon as it’s light and parlay with Velutio. Time will tell whether this has worked or not and you’ll soon notice if it has.”
