S. Turney - Interregnum

“Pretty good. Very few losses considering. I see despite his protests, Balo ended up leading your unit. What happened to you then? Favio wouldn’t tell us.”

The doctor, arriving at that moment behind him, aimed a meaningful look at Kiva as he replied: “he took a glancing blow to the ribs that might have done him some serious damage. He’s lucky to be here.”

Tythias glanced over his shoulder suspiciously at the doctor and then shrugged. “Fair enough. I take my own fair share of stupid wounds. Well now you’re awake I’d better report. Lord Tilis was taken prisoner, lord Geraldus was found about an hour ago impaled on a cavalry spear and there’s no sign of lord Herro. We presume he’s long gone with his bodyguard. The siege engines were all taken out and we’ve a total of around five hundred prisoners. Don’t know what you want to do with them, but Brendan’s convinced we can’t spare the manpower to guard them if we take them with us.”

Kiva nodded. “He’s absolutely right. Tell him to have their weapons and armour taken away from them and then let them go. They’re only farmers and servants pressed into service for their lords.”

Tythias pulled up a seat and collapsed next to the bed as Favio bustled around, holding Kiva’s wrist and counting under his breath.

“Silvas is a happy man” the one armed Prefect continued. “He’s done nothing but sing your praises and Darius’ since he joined us. His men are quartered with everyone else now, but he’s retaining control of them. I’ve assigned them the title ‘Ninth Regiment’ and left him in control. Seemed the best way to deal with it. They’re pretty well trained and organised anyway.”

Another nod from Kiva who, though listening, was watching Favio’s ministrations suspiciously. “And?”

“And everyone wants to come in and see you, but the first in line is sergeant Cialo who arrived in camp about an hour or two ago. I think you can safely say he’s not going back. He spat on his Velutio uniform and then burned it, along with the rest of his unit’s. Oh, and he’s brought a few more this time. There were twenty three of them when they turned up tonight.”

A smile suddenly flashed across Kiva’s lips. That was it. The missing piece. He pulled himself a little further upright in the bed and his eyes rolled as the pain lanced through his middle. Favio grumbled. “What’s the fucking use in me mending you if you go and do it all again. Lie still.”

Kiva looked urgently across at Tythias. “Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but I need to speak to Favio for a minute and then I need to see a couple of people. Send Cialo in five minutes, then Balo in ten and tell the most senior crossbowman to find me first thing in the morning. After I’ve seen the other two, I’ll put in a general appearance.”

Tythias nodded unhappily and stood, stretching. “Ok. I’ll see you in a while, you mad old bastard.”

As the second in command left, Kiva reached up and gripped Favio’s wrist. “You told them I’d been knifed?”

“Seemed the best way,” the doctor agreed. “Believable and realistic. I assumed you didn’t want anyone knowing the truth or you’d have gone to see Mercurias.”

“And what is the truth?” the general pushed.

“You’ll be dead next time you do anything like that. You may even die tonight anyway. I think it’s settled in place again, but now you’ve got some actual liver damage. Any serious exercise and you’ll be bringing up blood again. If it’s serious enough, you might open it up properly and then you’ll just bleed to death where you stand. You’re looking quite pale right now and I don’t know if you could stand another session of what happened today.”

“So,” Kiva pressed further, “how long can you keep me going? I reckon I need a week or two.”

Favio shook his head. “You’re a strong man, general, but even you can’t make it that long. If you lie very still you might make it past a month, but if you walk and ride you’ll be dead in days I reckon. It’ll only take the one wrong move that jars that little shard on your liver and you’ll be gone in minutes. What happened today was just a scratch. Put a hole in your liver and this’ll seem like a little headache.”

Kiva growled. “I need at least a week.”

Favio nodded. “Well you’d best start praying then.”

Without looking any longer at the general, Favio turned and strode from the tent. Kiva growled gently. He’d survived a duel to the death, twenty years of war and a crucifixion. He damn well wasn’t going to lie down and accept this when there was still something to be done. And as for prayers…”

He ignored the sharp pains and pulled himself upright in bed, checking to make sure he didn’t leak once he’d done so.

He sat for a few minutes mulling things over. The plan was finally falling together and there were just a few things left to work out, but he had to make it until the armies met or it was all for nothing. He continued to turn aspects of it over in his mind until sergeant Cialo, now wearing the uniform of a rebel captain, strode in and saluted.

“General Caerdin.”

“Cialo,” the general smiled. “Sit down man. I need to discuss a couple of things.”

The veteran nodded and took the seat by the bed, leaning forward.

“I assume you want my report sir?” As the general nodded, he went on, unravelling a piece of parchment he’d drawn from his pocket and placing it in the general’s hands. “As complete a list of the lords in Velutio’s army as I could manage. There’s probably names missing, but nearly all of it’s there.”

Kiva nodded once more.

“And there are a number of lords among them who’re verging on walking out anyway. We’ve done our best to sow disaffection among them but, to be honest, commander Sabian’s doing that for us and far better than we ever could. There’s been some kind of rift between him and Velutio and I can’t for the life of me think why Sabian’s still serving him. I heard that they had two hundred and eight deserters in one night just before I left.”

“Good,” the general replied. “I hear you’ve brought more men with you. I’m going to have a very special job for you all when we meet Velutio in a week or so.”

Cialo frowned. “Not another spy job, sir? We can’t really…”

Kiva shook his head and interrupted. “This is more important. I can’t tell you about it yet, but it’ll keep you off the battlefield and out of the action, and it’s absolutely crucial if we want to bring this to a satisfactory end.”

Cialo continued to frown, but nodded. “If that’s the case, I’m your man sir.”

Kiva nodded with a smile. “I’ll talk to you further in a day or two. In the meantime, I hear Balo outside and I need to speak to him.”

Cialo stood and saluted before turning and walking out of the tent. Kiva watched him go with some satisfaction. There had to be something said for their cause if it drew the men of morals and values away from the enemy side. He was still smiling curiously when Balo entered.

“That’s a funny smile Kiva. What’s so amusing?”

“Oh, nothing” the general smiled. “It still hits me every now and then that we’re doing something great, positive and worthwhile. I spent so long being worthless that it feels odd. And it’s all the doing of a young blond lad who changed everything. Or maybe just me.”

“Did you bring me here to listen to you being soppy and feeling sorry for yourself, Kiva or for something else?”

The general looked up sharply, but Balo appeared to be grinning, insofar as he appeared to be permanently grinning anyway.

“Balo, I’m dying. Pretty quickly according to Favio.”

Balo nodded. “I’ve as much as told you so myself. It’s shit, but it’ll come to all of us in the end, and I don’t think I’ll be all that far behind you.”