Authors: S. J. A. Turney
He quickly reached across the desk and pulled over a set of scrolls, six in all, unfastening the silk tie and unrolling them. The moment he saw their contents, he let the scroll go and it rolled back into a coil. He glanced over his shoulder to check on Darius, but the young man was poking around another desk in the corner. Unrolling the scroll again his eyes strolled across the genealogy of the Imperial bloodline and there, clearly labelled at the bottom was Quintillian. He was about to roll it back up carefully when another name caught his eye that made him blink in surprise. Tracing the lines on the chart from Quintus the Golden, he double-checked, but there it was: Livilla Dolabella, a cousin of the Emperor and her husband clearly marked next to her: Kiva Caerdin. He frowned, for there was no mention of a child. With another furtive glance at Darius to make sure he was occupied, he rolled the scroll once more and tied it, fumbling with another. Another genealogy, this time showing the ancestors of a man named Pelius; a name vaguely familiar to the commander from his roll calls on the island. A third scroll revealed another familiar name, and he glanced briefly at it before unrolling the fourth and smiling broadly. The Caerdin line. This short scroll showed Darius clearly enough along with his mother and father and some of the members of the non-direct Imperial family. Caerdin’s father had been added but presumably the northern tribes he came from didn’t keep records of ancestry beyond their father. The maternal line went back a long way, though and very high-born. His suspicions finally confirmed, along with a connection of which he’d been previously unaware, Sabian allowed the scroll to roll up once more and then placed the six back in their container. He turned to Darius.
“I think I’ve seen enough here” he said and the young man turned, pulling himself away from some dusty book. The commander went on. “I’ll speak to the minister later, but I can’t imagine any of this presenting a problem for me at least. Shall we go and have a word with Turus?”
Darius nodded and left the room, waiting in the corridor as Sabian heaved the door shut and locked it.
They strolled down the corridor in the direction of the great courtyard, the commander walking ahead lost in his own musings. Behind him, Darius carefully shuffled into his breeches the one item he’d removed from sight in the room while Sabian had been otherwise occupied. He placed a great deal of trust in the commander, but showing him the only map they had of the island’s reefs and safe channels would be taking that trust too far.
Sabian stood in the octagonal room of the ruined Golden House tapping his fingers on his bronze-plated belt, his eyes darting around the various shattered entrances to the room. Behind him Cialo leaned yawning against a crumbling wall and Iasus stood stiff and upright in what was once an alcove, his sergeant’s vine-staff jammed under his arm. No one had said a word for more than five minutes but impatient sounds abounded. How long would it take the young man?
Footsteps in the ruins announced the arrival of their guest. The commander heaved a sigh of relief and Cialo pulled himself upright off the wall. Minister Turus rounded the corner, picking his way gingerly among the fallen masonry with Darius at his shoulder. The minister spotted the soldiers and gave a crooked smile as he gratefully crossed into the clear area within the octagon.
“Commander,” the man said slightly breathlessly, “young Darius said that you need to see me? A strange place to meet.”
Sabian nodded. “Somewhere quiet… out of the way.” He grinned an unpleasant grin at the minister. “Easy to clean…”
The minister opened his mouth to say something, his eyes surprisingly wide, but the commander rode over the top of whatever comment he intended to make.
“I would assume, minister, that due to your complicity in the affair, you are aware of what happened to the good doctor yesterday?”
The colour drained from Turus’ face. He made strange burbling noises and spun around, finally taking in the solitary location in which he now found himself and the four armed men around him. Eyes so wide they looked like they might burst, he collapsed in a heap on the ground.
“This can’t be happening…”
Darius, only a couple of steps behind him dropped his sword point to the ground a foot away from the minister’s knee. “Oh but it can” he said.
Sabian reached down and grasped the slightly portly man by the tunic and hauled him to his feet. He was surprisingly heavy.
“Save your breath with denials” the commander said plainly. “We know about the doctor and we know about you. The doctor’s gone because he wouldn’t talk to me. I’d assume you’re more intelligent than that.”
The minister said nothing, still pale and frightened, but he nodded vigorously. Sabian smiled inwardly. This was easier that Velutio’s damned doctor. He released his grip on Turus and the man sank back to the floor.
“I’ll give you a very simple choice, Turus” the commander said. “Either you stand brave and irresolute and protect your fellow conspirators, in which case we cut you into several pieces to fatten the fishes… or you tell me everything you know right here and now and I turn you over to Sarios to deal with.”
As he finished speaking, he became aware that the minister was whimpering. The man reached up and there were tears in his eyes.
“I didn’t want to, but … my family! You must understand.”
Darius looked over the broken minister at the commander and cleared his throat. “The man’s daughter lives in Velutio.”
Sabian remained stony faced. “I’m waiting, minister.”
Pulling himself together as best he could, Turus hauled himself to his feet.
“Someone in the city. I don’t know who, but he must be powerful. The doctor came to me with an offer; said he could get me off the island and to my family. How could I not? I didn’t know he was going to kill anyone; that was never part of the deal.”
Sabian nodded. “I know who the someone in the city is and I know about the doctor and you. You’re not telling me anything. I know there were soldiers involved; my men. Tell me who they were and what was sent.” To emphasise his words, he drew his sword and tapped the flat of the blade against his shin. The minister’s eyes bulged again.
“I don’t know what the messages were; I was just to get the lamp. There are three men though… three that I know of anyway. Don’t know their names, but they’re all on the guard duty under him.” He pointed at Iasus. Sabian turned and nodded at the sergeant. The young martinet stepped forward and reached out with his vine staff, placing it beneath the minister’s chin.
“Descriptions” he said. “If you can’t give us names, give us descriptions.”
The minister tried to nod, but the vine staff inhibited him; the position looked very uncomfortable. Sabian glanced briefly at Iasus. Sometimes a strict military disciplinarian had his uses. Turus gulped.
“There’s a tall one, fair haired. I think he’s probably in charge.
Iasus nodded and spoke to his commander without taking his eyes off the minister. “Rufus. Got to be Rufus. He’s officer of the night watch. Go on minister…”
“One with a black beard, quite curly.”
Iasus tutted and lifted the vine-staff, almost choking the minister. “No one in my duty with a black beard” he said.
The minister’s eyes bulged again, but Cialo piped up from the other corner. “He means Carbo. Carbo was assigned to guard, but I swapped him for one of my crew this morning after we had a minor accident.”
Iasus nodded and loosened his grip on the stick again. “And the last?”
“A fairly plain man” the minister said. “A bit thin, brown hair, quite pale…”
“Kasta” spat Iasus. “Never did trust northerners.”
Sabian squared his shoulders and put his sword away.
“Ok minister. I’ll assume you’ve told us everything. We’ve got to go prepare for Ursus’ funeral. Darius will deliver you back to Sarios and he will decide how to proceed with you.”
As Darius herded the man back out of the octagonal room, Sabian turned and called after him “and bear in mind that if there’s anything you haven’t told me, I’ll be back for you.” He turned to the two sergeants. “Come on. We haven’t got much time.”
Making their way out of the ruined palace as hurriedly as they could, Sabian almost walked into one of his men who was trying to get past the barrier they’d replaced after they’d entered the ruinous building.
“What are you doing soldier!”
The man came to attention instantly. “I was sent to find you sir. There’s a ship in the channel; should be here in a bit over an hour sir. Lookout says it’s his lordship, sir.”
Sabian smiled. “Good. Now get everyone but the lookout to the graveyard.”
The vicious smile stayed riveted on to his face as he marched through the orchard. If Velutio was on his way, the lack of signal last night must have irritated someone. For an instant he wondered whether his lordship himself were behind this, but dismissed the thought after a moment. This was definitely the work of Crosus and, if Velutio was on his way now, that walking dead man would be right behind him.
Chapter XII.
The funeral was short and Spartan, but well-attended and with full honours. Sarios had dealt with every funeral here in twenty years, so Ursus was in good company. Throughout the whole thing, however, Sabian’s mind had been elsewhere. He’d watched the three men the minister had named throughout the entire service but none of them had betrayed any sign of nerves. His real problems were how to go about the legality of proving treachery in the guard Captain and how to disprove anything the man accused him of. After all, his lordship was hardly likely to be in a welcoming and forgiving mood. The last lines of the prayers to the local spirits brought him back to the present. Velutio would be here in about half an hour.
Cialo and Iasus stood at attention, awaiting the command to fall out. Most of the island’s population were in attendance despite their lack of connection with the man, but they stood still, perhaps unsure of whether to leave before the soldiers. Well let them watch. He turned to the six companies of men and cleared his throat.
“Soldiers Rufus, Carbo and Kasta! Front and centre!”
The three men fell out of their units and stepped out to the front, lining up shoulder to shoulder though, Sabian noted with some satisfaction, unhappily and a little hesitantly. He drew breath to speak again.
“These three men are guilty of treason and mutiny. In conspiracy with the doctor from Velutio and one of the island’s elders who will be dealt with under local law, these three men have been undermining my command on Isera, feeding information to an outside source and disobeying orders. As co-conspirators they are also a party to the murder of trooper Ursus.”
He paused to let this all sink in. To their credit, the three soldiers continued to stand at attention, unwavering. He folded his hands behind his back and addressed the men again.
“I’m sure I don’t need to remind you that I encourage traditional values in my army and I expect most of you can tell me what the punishment was for both treason and mutiny in the ranks?”
The blood of the men was rising now. Sabian had a good reputation among his men and he knew it. Those who betrayed him, betrayed them, and in the current setting the murder of Ursus hung over them like a cloud. A number of voices cried out “stoning” or “death” among the general murmur of outrage and disgust.
There was some wavering among the three now, but they still didn’t break. Sabian nodded. Very well, he would give them the black news now.
“Stoning. Indeed.” He rocked on his heels. “Unless anyone else would like to speak up in favour of these three?”
The silence was deafening. Sabian nodded.
“Very well, according to military law you’re all three hereby sentenced to death. I’ll give you one chance to make it quick, though. Tell me what information has been sent to whom so that I can confirm my suspicions and I’ll grant you a clean soldier’s death, by the sword. Otherwise your comrades will take you away for a slow and painful way out. Now is your time to decide.”
The three dropped from attention as Kasta glanced across at the others.
“We’re going to die anyway!” he growled in a thick accent of the Northern provinces.
Carbo held his arm out to the mousey-haired northerner. “’ave you ever seen a man stoned to death? It’s a fuckin’ nightmare.” He turned and took a step toward Sabian. “Give me the sword sir.” A moment or so later, Rufus joined him, nodding. Sabian eyed them coldly and then glanced across at Kasta, who was scanning the crowd around him, his head moving wildly and a panicky look in his eye. The commander spied Iasus behind him and the sergeant nodded.
The moment Kasta broke and made a run for the orchard, Iasus and two of his men were already on his heels. Sabian cast his eyes across the other two who daren’t even look after the escaping soldier. He gazed behind them at the troops.
“Cialo and four men with me. The rest of you know what to do!”
The grizzled sergeant and four of the men behind him stepped up to join the commander, while the rest turned, their fury still high and empowering their blood as they chased down the fleeing man. Sabian paid no attention to the cries and shouts among the trees. Kasta would be caught long before he ever reached a door and Iasus had both the authority and the will to carry out the appropriate punishment. The commander brought his attention back to the two in front of him.
“I’ve never had a problem with either of you? Why then?”
Carbo hung his head. “It’s not you sir. You’re a good man an’ no one was meant to get ‘urt.” He stopped but Sabian just let the silence reign until the soldier spoke again. “We nearly came to you anyway after the doc told us what ‘appened to Ursus, but we reckoned we was too deep in it by then.” Again a pause filled only by the man continuing. “It was that Crosus sir. ‘E ‘ates you sir.”