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
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.
