S. Turney - Interregnum

Brendan growled. “He’s working for Velutio.”

Down in the courtyard Tythias, struggling with some difficulty due to his one arm, hauled himself off the Emperor and staggered back against the wall. Darius pulled himself up, his face full of concern, but the grizzled prefect grinned. “I have got to stop getting fucking wounded…” he realised who was standing before him and smiled weakly, “…highness.”

As Sathina rushed to help Tythias break the arrow shaft off, the scarred officer placed his hand on her shoulder. “Sorry, lass. Didn’t mean to curse.”

Sathina laughed. “Good grief, Tythias. I didn’t fall for you ‘cause of your poetic tongue.”

Leaving the two to deal with Tythias’ wound, Darius spun round to take in the situation. His fear that the entire greeting in the courtyard may have been a deliberate ambush was put aside as he saw lord Silvas appear once more from the doorway, a look of concern on his face. To one side, on the wall stairs, he could see an interesting tableau: Brendan was kneeling over a man, presumably the attempted murderer, throttling him with some sort of cord. Athas was behind him speaking quietly. His head fuzzy, Darius looked back again at Silvas then at Brendan again.

Taking a deep breath, he called out “Captain, let some slack in that rope.”

Assuming, even hoping, that Brendan had both heard and obeyed, he turned to the master of the palace. “Lord Silvas? This is one of your men. It’s not for mine to punish him.”

Silvas nodded gravely. “Agreed, but he ceased to be one of my men the moment he shot at a guest in my house. Deal with him as you see fit.”

Darius turned back to his men and gave them an exaggerated nod. Athas growled and said under his breath “Brendan, question him.”

Brendan glared into the broken face of the archer.

“Talk to me. If’n you give me enough I’ll give yer a quick death.”

The man stared at Brendan in horror. Athas leaned down over his junior officer’s shoulder. “Tell us everything and he’ll give you the sword. Otherwise I’ll leave you to him and he might take days.”

The man coughed, blood flowing through his shattered teeth. “He’d have paid me well and the whole thing’d be over. I don’t want to die!”

Brendan looked up at Athas. “Velutio again, but only coz this little weasel’s a greedy little cowardly bastard.”

Athas nodded and, turning, walked down the stairs to join the Imperial party below. As he left, Brendan smiled at the archer in front of him.

“Damn, can’t reach me sword.” With a slight shrug, he slowly tightened the cord. The archer gasped, unable to speak and resumed his clawing at the garrotte, his broken hand flopping feebly around with the effort. “Ack, agh…”

“I know,” smiled Brendan. “I’m a bit of a liar, y’see?”

Oblivious to the final throws of the man on the walls, Darius, accompanied by his courtiers and the members of his now very alert and unhappy personal guard made their way through into the great hall on the heels of Lord Silvas himself.

The room continued the military theme of the palace itself. Big and impressive, the hall was of stone rather than marble or brick, with buttresses on the interior as well as the exterior on which oil lamps burned, augmenting the small amount of light the windows admitted. Flags in red and white and military regalia decorated the room and the flagstones had been laid cunningly to provide a map of the Silvas lands. This lord was proud of his heritage and Darius dredged his formidable knowledge of political history. He had vague recollections of the name. The family had been local governors for generations; a most unusual situation, since governorship was usually granted on a five-yearly basis by the Imperial court. One of the earlier Silvas members had presumably so impressed the Emperor of the time that the family had been granted the position in perpetuity; no small honour.

Silvas himself stood to one side of his huge chair behind a table at the far end of the room. Again, Darius was struck by how many nuances of Imperial etiquette he had picked up from his classes under Sarios and the other tutors without even realising it at the time. To have taken a seat would have been to deny the validity of Darius’ claim. The fact that the lord hadn’t knelt showed nothing. He’d as yet taken no oath, but neither did he dispute any claim. He was vaguely aware of Athas and a few others coming in behind him. He glanced over his shoulder at Tythias, standing stern and unmoving, despite the arrow jutting from his shoulder and Sathina behind him fussing and muttering.

“Prefect, have the men fall out to wherever they’re allocated. I don’t imagine we’re in any further danger.”

Tythias nodded and began issuing orders to the various lesser officers with them. One of Silvas’ servants showed the guard officers outside and to their lodgings, while a half dozen of them formed and remained with their Emperor. Darius paid no attention to the organisation going on, fixing his gaze on Silvas.

“Your lordship, before we begin anything, do you have a doctor that could look at my prefect’s wound? I regret we have no medic in our party.”

Silvas nodded. “I’ve already sent for him. Please; there are plenty of seats and tables. Everyone should make themselves comfortable and you and your closest should join me here.”

Darius made a few small motions and walked steadily across the hall to the table where a half dozen seats had been arranged. Alongside him, Athas, Tythias and Sathina strode ahead.

“You’ve met the army’s executive officer, Prefect Tythias. May I also introduce Athas, a captain and a member of the Wolves and Sathina, lady of the Imperial court and one of my advisors.”

Silvas blinked. “You have a woman as an advisor? A bit of a frivolity, no?”

Sathina bridled and Tythias clamped his hand on her shoulder. Darius smiled. “This is no ordinary woman, Silvas. She’s infiltrated a court and saved the life of General Caerdin. I value her highly as do my senior commanders.”

Silvas smiled, unsure of whether to laugh or not. As the last of a series of emotions passed across his face, he turned to her and bowed. “Then I’m pleased to know you, Lady Sathina. Such beauty and reckless bravery rarely fit together.” He gestured to the seats at the table and, with a nod, Darius took the central one opposite the lord. As the others seated themselves, Silvas being the last, Brendan arrived in the doorway, exchanged very quick words with one of Darius’ guard and then strode up to the table.

“Ah, captain, take a seat”, the Emperor said.

Brendan smiled as he sat at one side, his forehead smeared in blood. “Sorry I’m late, highness. Bit of a barny m’afraid.”

Darius nodded. “Yes, I noticed. I hope it’s dealt with.” He turned his attention to lord Silvas, who was still watching his guests with a curious and appraising smile. “Where do we begin then? You’re an anomaly, Silvas… one of very few powerful lords who’ve remained independent.”

Silvas leaned forward, his elbows on the table and cradling his hands. “I’m well aware that a time is coming when I must put aside my independence and choose a side. I’m not very happy about it, but I’m also aware enough to realise I have no other choice. Lord Velutio has been consolidating a claim to the throne for at least a decade. He may not be of Imperial blood but he knows how to control and he’s been very much unstoppable. He ripped the independence out of most of my neighbours either by fear or be the sword and I’m not sure whether it’s because of my strength, my reputation or merely inconvenience that he’s left me alone thus far. And he’ll come for me very soon. He’s finished dealing with the western lords, according to my last report and is already on the move back to the city. Once he reaches the central provinces I shall be high on his list and my time will be up. I have absolutely no intention of taking my army to Munda to join with you and leaving my lands to be ravaged by brigands and then by Velutio, but also if the lord should arrive here with his army, rest assured I will take my oath to him there and then to save the lives of my soldiers and prevent the destruction of my territory. I find it very hard to believe that you could persuade me otherwise, I’m afraid.”