Brendan and Marco sat in one of the rooms of the officers’ quarters. Their thoughts were dark and often bleak, but neither would speak of it as they played dice over and over again, drinking unwatered wine as though they’d never try it again.
Many leagues away, Sabian stood in the command tent of Velutio’s army. The meeting had finished and the other officers and the independent lords had all gone their separate ways, leaving Sabian standing before the table, opposite his commander.
“You go too far, my Lord.”
Velutio looked up with one eyebrow raised. “I wasn’t aware you were her to dictate policy to me. You are welcome to advice, but you criticise just a little too much, commander.”
Sabian gritted his teeth. “That letter was a genuine offer, albeit an insulting one, under a flag of truce. I would never have allowed Cialo and his men to leave camp if I’d know what you were doing. It’s an insult to the honour of the army and to your own honour.”
Velutio stood sharply, slamming his hands to the table, palms down. “I will do anything in my power to bring this to a quick end. You are too stiff for your own good. If it takes deaths, assassins, treachery and deceit to win a war and to stop a massacre, I will try it every time. Caerdin’s too sharp to fall for any of them anyway, but I must try. And now, this meeting is over. You have talked out of your place for the last time Sabian. You will leave without a word and go about your preparations for tomorrow and the next time you criticise or defy me, you will be stripped of your command and, if I’m particularly peeved, crucified.”
He pointed a finger at Sabian. “Now get out of my sight!”
The commander carried out an extravagant salute and turned on his heel to leave the tent and marched out into the night, growling. Nothing was worth this.
Part Six: Imperium
Chapter XXXI
Darius took a deep breath to steady himself. The army had been down on the plains now for two days and had begun to move slowly and steadily toward the sea and the inevitable clash with the army of Velutio. The Emperor was, despite his lifetime’s study of the great campaigns, amazed at the incredibly slow speed at which a full army travelled. The infantry were not as fast as the cavalry, obviously, but the entire army was forced for move at the same speed as the slowest unit among them which turned out to be the siege units and wagon trains that toddled along at the back as though out for a country ramble. The commanders of the army seemed to be taking it all very stoically and Darius tried to be patient, but the fact that Velutio’s army was reputed to be moving with a worrying swiftness kept preying on his mind. Tythias had tried to explain that this was because they had foregone siege units and engineers in favour of speed of travel and that they required no wagon train as they had been in foragable lowlands their entire time, rather than in bare and inhospitable mountains like the rebel force. Also, Velutio had allies and vassals everywhere that provided their army with supplies as they moved, whereas all the allies the rebel army had were travelling with them on their route.
He sighed and glanced around himself at the others. They rode quietly, their faces expressionless as the noise of thousands of men and horses blanketed them and the dust rose like the column of smoke from a forest fire.
“How long ‘til we reach Silvas’ palace?” he enquired of Caerdin, who rode alongside at the head of the column.
“We’re almost there now. We’ve been on his land for an hour now. You’ll see the top tower of his palace over the ridge any minute…”
Darius nodded and turned to face their destination again just in time to see three of their mounted outriders come galloping over the hill and rein in urgently in front of the command party. The scout officer saluted and coughed a little in the resulting cloud of dust.
“Your majesty… Silvas… he’s under attack.”
Kiva reined gestured to one side and the scouts and command party both moved off the road onto the springy loam while the slow procession of military might plodded and trundled past. “Details, man!” demanded the general as soon as they were out of the way.
“Dunno sir. It’s not Velutio’s army. There’s maybe three or four different uniforms down there. They’ve not got much in the way of cavalry, but there’s quite a lot of infantry. They’ve got tents set up half a mile away, but they’re swarming around his walls and there are a couple of siege towers and a battering ram floating around among them.”
Tythias rumbled deep in his throat. “Can you identify any of them?”
The scout shook his head. “No, sir, but they’re a mix of men wearing black, green and blue.”
“That could be just about anyone” the one armed commander grumbled.
One of the scouts saluted and spoke up. “Sir… one of the tents I saw had a flag. It was black with silver trim and had a rearing bull standing on a tower.”
“Ah.” Kiva smiled. “Lord Tilis shows his colours now. I thought he’d stay damn close to Velutio. He doesn’t like to stick his neck out for anything. Velutio must have sent him in command of two other lords to make sure Silvas didn’t get to join us. Silly bastard. If he’d just asked instead, Silvas might’ve joined them willingly, but still; all the better for us.”
The general wheeled his horse and looked up at Darius. “Your permission, highness?”
Darius nodded and Kiva grinned, turning back to Tythias. “Get your cavalry marshalled and take them out to the east. I want you to cross the river over by the mill and get in position in the ditches there. If you do it right you can get behind their camp and a few hundred yards from the fight without them even knowing you’re there. I doubt they’re concerned about their rear lines; they’ll be concentrating on the job at hand. When you hear the trumpet signal to advance, take out their camp and form a cordon around them with your light cavalry. What you do with the heavy cavalry’s up to you.”
Tythias nodded and, grinning, wheeled his own horse before charging off to find his cavalry captains. Kiva turned to face Brendan and Sithis. “We’ve not got time to bring the whole army into position. Get the two lead regiments and draw them up a few hundred yards away below the crest of the hill. When we move in, Sithis, you’ll take the first regiment down into the centre of the fight and aim for their command units. If you can get to them, take out their officers. If they offer surrender, take it. As much of this is public relations as it is war. You know what to do.”
“Brendan, old friend,” he smiled. “You take the second regiment and make directly for the front entrance. I need you to take out that battering ram and form a perimeter outside the gate to hold the enemy away. If all goes well, once the units are all in the melee, you’ll be able to close up like a swinging door and push them back against Sithis’ regiment. Tythias’ cavalry will be there keeping them hemmed in for you and I suspect he’ll have battered their morale with a few cavalry charges by then.”
“Athas,” he continued, turning to the large dark-skinned man. “You need to get all this lot halted and make sure they don’t move forward and get involved in the fight. If there’s any way you can get the bolt throwers out to the crest, do so and get Filus’ third regiment to give you cover. Can you do that?”
Athas grunted. “It’ll be at least ten minutes before we can get the bolt throwers out to the front, even using all the manpower we have. They’re at the front of the siege column, but that’s behind eight regiments of footmen. Will ten minutes be enough?”
“It’ll do,” the general replied. “To be honest I thought it’d take a lot longer than that. Tythias won’t be in position for at least five more minutes himself, so it should work out nicely. Once you’ve got them in position, pick your targets carefully.”
Athas nodded as Brendan gave his commander a grin that Kiva recognised as a sort of hunger and nodded.
