mirror of white pain behind his eyes. Gritting his teeth to prevent biting his tongue, he forced himself to stay upright, his feet still on the floor, until he managed to gain control of the pain and force it back down where it came from. He looked up and grinned. “Always was a fast healer.”
Sarios shook his head, sympathy and anger vying for control of his face. “Don’t be stupid, Caerdin. When you fall over, I’m not going to have the strength to pick you up!”
The grin stayed as Kiva relaxed once more, the pain fading away. Once more he gritted his teeth, set his jaw and heaved against the bed, slowly pushing himself toward the perpendicular. His legs wobbled back and forth, shaking like knotted ropes in a gale as he heaved, sweating profusely and muttering curses under his breath. With a push, he let go and tried to stand. For a fraction of a second he thought things were ok, but then the pain, exhaustion and dizziness came. For just a moment he lost consciousness on his feet, but was brought back to the present with a start as the flaming lava running in his veins set fire to his brain and the explosion of excruciating pain overwhelmed him. He fell like a sack of grain and with no grace, smashing to the floor with such a sound that Sarios heaved himself up to see whether Kiva had broken his neck. Miraculously, not only was he not broken, but had remained conscious, despite his head having hit the floor with no cushioning.
As the general groaned, the door to the room flew open and a man Kiva didn’t know entered in a panic. “I’ll get the doctor!” he cried and spun on his heel.
Kiva bellowed as best he could, a breathless cry, but enough to stop the servant in his tracks. “No you fucking won’t. You’ll go out into the grounds and find me two sticks I can use to prop myself up and then you’ll come back here.”
The servant’s face took on a perplexed look and he turned to glance at Sarios. The old man frowned for some time and then nodded. The young man reached out to Kiva and tried to grasp his arm, but Kiva swiped at the hand with his arm and growled. “Go! And on the way back, find me something strong to drink!”
The servant, all aflutter, left the room, still in two minds about what to do. He’d been told to do anything Caerdin asked, but he couldn’t imagine the doctor had meant this.
As the door shut, Kiva started pulling himself along the floor with his arms, heaving and sweating with the incredible effort. After a minute, he’d reached the window sill and hauled himself onto his knees to look out. If things were still moving apace and the island was going to rebel and evacuate, he’d be needed. He’d have to take control of it, and he couldn’t very well do that from bed.
As Kiva looked out across the island and the sea beyond, not many miles away in the opposite direction, Commander Sabian slammed his fist down on the wall. The top of the golden tower on the headland opposite the palace was the only place he could be alone and untagged during the daylight hours. Fortunately, he’d managed to commandeer the place for the guards, so he had constant access. He growled and lifted the signal lamp back down from the low surrounding wall. What the hell was Darius playing at? He needed to speak to Cialo, but Darius was being deliberately obstructive. Well they’d have to wait and see then, since he couldn’t pass on a warning.
He pulled out his spy glass and swept it around to the palace opposite, picking out some of his men as he moved down across the buildings, over the Imperial Gardens and to the cliff, and then down and beyond. He couldn’t see the port from here, but somewhere round that corner, four companies of Velutio’s personal guard would be standing in formation awaiting his arrival before they boarded the small ship. And standing at the forefront would be his ambitious and deceiving second in command, Captain Flautus.
He smiled. For all he was a soldier, he could be as subtle as the next man and prided himself that he was starting to get quite adept at playing Velutio at his own game. His lordship had agreed readily at Sabian’s proposal to remove the regular troops from the island and replace them with the more fanatically loyal of his guard. Indeed, Sabian had been saved a job as Velutio had personally vetted the men to go. The Commander couldn’t possibly have done a better job of weeding out those men who preferred his lordship over their own commander. Ever since he’d killed Crosus, he’d been gradually identifying those who didn’t maintain the right attitude; those who might harbour grudges or doubts or might even think of betraying him. And in one fell swoop he’d persuaded Velutio to do it for him! And even now those four companies of untrustworthy, dislikeable, greedy assholes were forming up for exile, all the while thinking they were getting preferential treatment. Perfect.
In a few days there would be not a soldier in the city who didn’t hold Sabian as his first loyalty, and those he’d sent to the island could be dealt with by the islanders. He knew they were leaving of course; had sent the warning himself. But there was a perfect irony in letting the islanders get away before his Lordship could commit genocide, while landing the blame squarely with those few who could not be trusted. Again he smiled. He would drop the men off at Isera and collect Cialo’s companies before returning and heading off to Serfium, but he’d have to talk to Darius and the minister about future plans while he was there.
Chapter XX
The knock at the door woke Kiva from further fitful dreams that disappeared like drifting fog as he started into consciousness. He glanced around the room. Much better than yesterday. For all the pain he’d suffered dragging himself around the room, his muscles had loosened a little and he could at least move without the irritating stiffness. It was daylight, though what time he couldn’t guess. The other bed in the room was empty and neatly made; Sarios had apparently been up for some time.
“What?” he barked at the door.
He pulled himself a little further up in the bed and reached out for the two cane-like sticks that stood next to it. Using them as a lever, he pulled himself up to a seated position and frowned as he reached for the glass of spirits he’d left on the table last night only to find it had gone. Sarios or Favio? One or the other certainly.
He nodded in greeting as Prince Ashar Parishid of Pelasia trotted lightly in, closing the door softly behind him. The prince took a seat on the edge of Sarios’ bed and crossed his legs and arms.
“Well I think this is probably the worst state I’ve ever seen you in.”
Kiva snorted. “I’m virtually risen from the fucking dead. I personally don’t think I’m too bad considering.”
Ashar let out a light chuckle and smiled. Reaching across, he took one of the canes.
“You’ve been conscious barely a day and already you’re trying to walk? My doctor told me you’d not walk for weeks.”
“I’m full of surprises,” growled Kiva. “Why are you here?”
The prince pulled a mock expression of disappointment. “You almost sound like you don’t want me around, Kiva.”
“Don’t get me wrong,” the general replied with a sigh. “I appreciate what you’ve done; for me and the others, but Quintillian’s gone and I can’t see why you’re sticking around.”
“Ha!” Ashar unfolded his body and leaned forward, prodding Kiva gently with the stick. “Sarios said you were feeling sorry for yourself, but I didn’t believe him. Where else should I go, Caerdin? Back to my own land, where cowardly murderers rule in my family’s place? Off into the wilds to lose myself in blood and self-loathing like you did? No. I’m still on the same journey as before this happened.”
“But the bloodline’s ended.” Kiva grumbled low in his throat. Why did everyone always insist on looking at a bright side that wasn’t there?
Ashar shook his head. “The family still goes on though, even if the blood gets more distant. After all you’re one of them, Caerdin. I never thought about that until the minister mentioned it, but it makes you twice as useful.”
Kiva merely narrowed his eyes and glared at the smiling prince.
“You can be a figurehead too now” laughed Ashar. “You were going to be my blade, but now you can also be the banner. Do you have any idea how many of your countrymen would follow you into battle against the Gods themselves if you asked it? No, no, no. It’s far from over yet; you just need to get well very soon.”
Kiva shook his head finally. “Don’t even think like that.” Ashar opened his mouth to speak, but the general rode roughshod over the top of him. “I’m no politician; not an Emperor and I’m not of the Imperial blood. Hell, I’m a deicide and a regicide; I
He levered himself over to one side and leaned on the other cane. “Sarios is living in the same fool’s paradise as you: that something can be done. Well it can’t. Not now; not ever. The next line‘ll be the Velutio dynasty, or maybe even the Avitus dynasty should he want to revert, but it sure as hell won’t be mine.”
