S. Turney - Interregnum

Mercurias nodded. “Not just something… the biggest club I ever saw.”

Brendan leaned forward. “When yer went down, yer ‘ead were open like a watermelon and I swear yer brains were spillin’ out.”

Another nod from the medic. “Hell, yes. Your brains were coming out of your head, man. I tried to get to you, but the building started to go.”

Balo grinned even wider. I didn’t wake up for a long time. You’d been gone from the Pelian estate over a month before I first opened my eyes, apparently. In fact, I don’t really remember anything for at least six months and you’re right about my head. Pelian’s doctor said I was actually stone dead for around a quarter of an hour and I lost about a tenth of my brain, though I personally haven’t noticed much difference.”

Marco grinned. “That doesn’t surprise me.”

“Why didn’t you look for us when you recovered?” asked Kiva.

“It was well over a year before I was healthy enough to start being active again; almost a year and a half in fact. But even now I’m slow. I’m not the swordsman I was. Not one of the Wolves anymore, see?”

Kiva opened his mouth to argue, but Balo went on. “I used to get the rages when things like that happened to me; when I got wounded or suchlike, and I know I was a bit of a liability even then. That’s why I never had a full command in the old days, and I’m comfortable with that but since the wound the mood’s been unpredictable. I almost lost my job in Pelian’s army coz a guard cheated me at dice and I kicked him within inches of death. I’d be a real liability to you these days. I’m not here for my old commission, Kiva. I just wanted to see you all again and help the lad, coz he wants revenge for his father and can give him it.”

“But you’ve got to join us, Balo!” Marco gripped his arm. “Look at me! I lost a lung. I’m not always breathing too good; I certainly can’t take a frontline fight any more. I can’t ride very well and I walk slowly, but I still know enough to train and motivate and lead. The general’s still got enough confidence in me that I’ve got command of a unit of sappers.”

Kiva nodded, though Balo could read it in his features: Marco had been given a low-responsibility and low-danger command out of perhaps sympathy or respect. He smiled.

“I think not. I’ll stick around if that’s alright, but you really don’t want me in command of anyone; I guarantee it.”

A soldier appeared in the doorway and coughed politely.

“Yes?” Kiva said tersely.

“The Emperor requests your presence at the gate, sir.”

“We’re on our way,” the general replied.

As the rest of the Wolves made their way from the room, Kiva slowed and grasped Balo gently by the elbow. “I think we could do with a chat as we walk…”

Dropping slightly back and leaving the others to walk on ahead, Kiva eyed his companion. “You really sure you want to stay out of this? We really could do with your experience and you’re about my size. I can lend you tunics and armour for the moment if you want until we can get them fitted. You don’t have to command a unit if you don’t want to, but I could put you on the staff…”

“It’s not a matter of staying out of it,” Balo replied sadly. “It’s just… I know I’m not good enough for that anymore. Hell, I’ve been on mare’s mead for ten years now and some mornings I can’t even grip a sword hilt properly.” He glanced across at Kiva. “You must understand that; it’s got to have been twenty years on it for you.”

Kiva grunted but said nothing.

“You’re hitting it hard, aren’t you? I can tell just by looking at you…. Don’t forget I know how it feels. Is it the same old wound; the one with the liver? Getting worse, I presume? I remember the doctor said it would probably get worse as time went on.” He tapped Kiva on the arm as they walked. “Or is it this? These wounds aren’t very old.”

The general nodded. “Both, really. I’d be barely able to walk if it weren’t for the mare’s mead. To be honest Balo, I’m in more of a state than I can let on to the rest of them. I’ve got a lot of fairly fresh wounds that are only just healing and my muscles aren’t up to a fight. On top of that, the little shitty piece of metal in my side I think is actually working into my liver now.”

Balo pulled Kiva’s other arm across and examined the wrist. “You were crucified? Got to be, from the wounds; and I’ll bet I know who by.” The ex Wolf drew a deep breath. “I realise Athas and Mercurias will have told you this plenty before, but if you keep taking it like this, you’re going to kill yourself, you know? I worry about it myself every day and I’ll bet you take a lot more than I do.”

Kiva shrugged. “Probably. I don’t really care too much about me any more, but I’ve got to keep going until all this is over. Got to see it through. See, I brought the Empire down and I thought that was the end of it, but we found Quintus’ nephew in the early summer and… well, everything’s come tumbling back down on me. My lack of foresight got the young man killed and, though I’m going to hell anyway, I’ve got to put it right. It’s all my fault and I’ve got to put it right.”

Balo nodded. So the Imperial line’s properly gone then? I always assumed it had anyway. So where did this Darius lad turn up from?”

“He was brought up with Quintillian on Isera; taught everything by Sarios and his people. I gather he was the son of the training officer from Munda. It took me a while to realise a new Emperor didn’t have to be the same family as the old one. Sarios hammered it into me in the end.” As they reached the door leading out to the wide square, he caught sight of Darius handing out instructions to the guard officers. “He’ll make a good Emperor though; of that I’m damned sure.”

“I suppose,” said Balo as they strode out into the sun, “my next question is: how the hell do you plan to actually beat Velutio?”

Kiva shrugged. “Everyone here thinks I’ll come up with some miraculous genius plan to turn everything around and, well, I’ve had ideas; a few plans in their earliest stages, but nothing I’d pin the hopes of an Empire on. They all feel wrong. There’s something that I’ve missed this far though; something that escapes me; something almost in reach, but I can’t quite grasp it.”

He grinned at Balo. “But I’ll bet you’re part of it. You can’t go, even if you won’t join us. I have a feeling I’ve a part for you to play yet.”

Balo nodded. “If you say so, General. You know I won’t back out and leave you all in the shit. I just don’t want to be in a position of command.”

The two of them wandered out, catching up with the others at the gatehouse. Darius was standing around with the other officers and the gates stood wide open. The Emperor smiled as Kiva approached. “Sorry to cut your reunion short, general, but Velutio’s group’s almost here and I thought we’d best all be present, eh?”

Caerdin nodded soberly. “Indeed. They’ll no doubt want to speak to you, but I would suggest that I act as your intermediary to start with. To give them immediate access to the Emperor will look idiotic, and I’m still not sure how far we can trust them, even under a flag of truce.”

Darius nodded. “Agreed. I’ll stay at the back with my guards and be very imperial until you need me.” He smiled. “Or until I need to say anything of course.”

They watched for a short while as nine men on horseback toiled slowly and openly up the slope toward the gate, the dust from their hooves creating thin clouds that drifted across the valley as they travelled. Finally they approached the gate. The lead soldier made a quick study of the defences, noting with interest and approval the narrow approach to Hadrus and its strong walls. Guards manned several huge bolt-throwers on the top of the gate, which were aimed directly at the approaching riders, though the gates themselves remained open and surprisingly welcoming.