Robert Adams - Madman's Army

Presently, Thoheeks Grahvos rang for a scribe and dictated two official documents. Then, while the man penned duplicates of each, Bralos set a small chest of cour bouilli on the table and from it counted out some twenty pounds of gold.

When the documents all had been sanded, signed, sealed and witnessed and the scribe was departed, Thoheeks Grahvos smiled broadly and said, “All right, my boy, it’s all done. So far as Thoheeks Pahvlos or any of his faction are concerned, you have admitted taking loot, taken advantage of the broadcast amnesty and conveyed to representatives of Council a golden-hilted dagger plus a certain measure of gold. But between us, you have that document recognizing your generous loan to Council, it payable to you or to your heirs at the end of ten years along with an interest of twenty-five percent the year, and should you die without formal heirs or legitimate issue, it will be paid to your present overlord or his heirs.”

“Please, my lord Thoheeks ,” protested Bralos, “twenty-five percent the year is far too much. Really there should be none. Cannot my lord allow this to be a true gift to the Consolidated Thoheekseeahnee ?”

The big, brawny nobleman just stood and stared at the younger for a moment, then he addressed Thoheeks Mahvros, saying, “The next time that Pennendos or Vikos or another of that stripe launch again into their incessant slanders of our nobility in this realm, recall you this day and this most generous minor nobleman. Thank God that we have good men like him still among us to come to our aid in time of need.

“No, my good Bralos, your generosity is much appreciated, but no. Your loan will be repaid with the indicated interest as indicated in this document.”

“All right, Captain Vahrohnos ,” barked the white-haired Grand Strahteegos at Bralos, standing rigidly before him, “I know that you prized a jeweled, gold-hiked and gold-cased Yvuhz dagger on that mission to the north, so hand it over and I won’t have you striped … this time. Also, I want in my hands by nightfall of this day all of the gold or silver remaining of the loot you took in times past. When we come back from this campaign, we will see to the selling of your unconfirmed vahrohnoseeahn , in the south, your squadron captaincy and all else you saw fit to squander army monies upon.”

“My lord …” began Senior Captain Thoheeks Portos, who had been ordered to bring Bralos here.

But he was coldly, brusquely cut off in midsentence. “Shut your mouth, Portos! Yap only when I tell you to. My present business is with this posturing puppy.”

During the brief interruption, Bralos’ gaze flitted to the girlish Ilios, who lay stretched languidly on a couch behind the old man, the long-lashed eyelids slowly blinking, the too-pretty face blank. He wondered whether the pegboy was using hemp or poppy-paste.

“Would my lord Grand Strahteegos Thoheeks deign to peruse an official document of the Council of the Consolidated Thoheekseeahnee ?” asked Bralos, formally and very diffidently.

“Give it to me,” snarled the old man, adding, “And it had better have some bearing on your crimes against this army of mine. I’ve had all that I can stomach of larcenous newly rich scum like you lording it over your betters and buying lands and ranks you but ill deserve.”

Upon reading the document, his face darkened with rage. From between slitted eyelids he looked up at Bralos with pure, distilled hatred. “You shoat, you thing of filth and slime, how dared you to commit so infamous an enormity as this? I should have you slowly whipped to death or impaled, do you know that? I hope that I never again see so foul an instance of insubordination as you have herein committed, you fatherless hound-pup! Are you aware, Portos, of what your favorite here has done? Are you? Well, answer me, damn you!”

“No, my lord Grand Strahteegos , I am not. I have not yet seen the document,” replied the brigade commander.

“Know you, then, Senior Captain, that this infamous malefactor turned the Yvuhz dagger and some pounds of gold over to Thoheeks Grahvos and Thoheeks Mahvros, and they then not only granted him a full pardon for his misdeeds in not turning all his loot over in the beginning, but recognized his landholdings and purchased title in an official Council document, of which this is a legal, witnessed copy. On the basis of this … this”—he waved the document about—“this piece of filth, this thing who calls himself Bralos now is confirmed and recognized by Council as the Vahrohnos of Yohyültönpolis, and no matter that he acquired lands and title with gold that was as good as stolen from this army of mine. And not only that, but that aged fool of a Grahvos so phrased this thing that this puppy now is also recognized by council as a captain-of-squadron of mercenary light cavalry/lancers.”

“But, my lord Grand Strahteegos Thoheeks ,” remonstrated Portos, “ever since the Captain Vahrohnos bought the entirety of responsibility for his squadron, you have been referring to him as a mercenary.”

The old man glared at Portos for a long moment, then grated in a frigid tone, “Senior Captain, do not ever again display such a degree of temerity as to feed me back my own words, not if you’d keep that ugly head on those shoulders and the flesh on the bones of your back. You and everyone else with two bits of brain to rub together knew just what I meant when I called him a mercenary scoundrel, and it was not a description of his rank or his status in my army, either. If you don’t—really don’t—know just what I meant, then you are an utter dunce and should not be commanding a section, much less a brigade, in any kind of an army!”

Looking back at the still-rigid Bralos, he growled, “All right, my lord Captain Vahrohnos , you and your sly chicanery have stolen a march on me … this time. But be you warned, I am long in forgetting and I never forgive. I mean to see you dead for this, soon or late, I mean to see you die under circumstances that will reflect no slightest shred of honor on either you or the misbegotten house that was responsible for putting a thing like you out into the world, of afflicting decent folk with the fox-shrewd stench of you. Take your slimy document and get you out of my sight! Dismiss !”

Outside, Bralos mounted but sat his horse until Portos came out, his olive face black with suppressed rage, his big hands clenching and unclenching, his movement stiff, tightly controlled. But he spoke no word to Bralos until they were both well clear of the army headquarters area.

“Bralos, had it just been reported to me, I doubt that I would’ve, could’ve, believed it. But I heard it, heard it all. I can only surmise that the man is going— hell, has gone—stark, staring mad. Man, you just don’t talk to the senior officers of your army that way unless in strictest privacy. He had some choice slights for me, too, after he’d dismissed you, and hearing him I could not but think of how good it would be to see him laid out on a pyre, for all that we have no officer capable of replacing him. He couldn’t be as vicious toward me as he could and was toward you, of course, because I’m his peer in civil rank and I could call him out, force him to fight me breast to breast in a formal duel. But what he could get away with saying, he said.

“I tell you, friend Bralos, immediately I get back to my place, I’m going to have to write out an account of all that just happened. I couldn’t put such a job to a clerk or it would be over the whole army in an eyeblink of time … and that we definitely do not want; there’s trouble enough brewing already, thanks to that old man. Then I’m going to dispatch it to Thoheeks Grahvos, at the palace; you can add a statement to it, if you wish to so do.”