The Thousand Cities ttot-3

by Harry Turtledove

  «Thank you, lord, and the God bless you for your kindness,» the messenger said. He repeated Abivard's message to make sure he had it right, then kicked his horse up into a trot and headed back toward Mashiz with the reply.

  For his part, Abivard wheeled his horse and rode to the wagons that traveled with the army. When he saw Pashang, he waved. Abivard then called for Roshnani. When she came out of the covered rear area and sat beside Pashang, Abivard handed the letter to her.

  She read through it rapidly. He could tell when she came to the last few sentences, because she took one hand off the parchment, made a fist, and slammed it down on her leg. «That's the best news we've had in years!» she exclaimed. «In years, I tell you.»

  «What news is this, mistress?» Pashang asked. Roshnani told him of the birth of the new Peroz. The driver beamed. «That is good news.» He nodded to Abivard. «Congratulations, lord—or should I say uncle to the King of Kings to be?»

  «Don't say that,» Abivard answered earnestly. «Don't even think it. If you do, Sharbaraz will get wind of it, and then we'll get to enjoy another winter at the palace, packed as full of delight and good times as the last two we had in Mashiz.»

  Pashang's hand twisted in the gesture Makuraners used to turn aside evil omens. «I'll not say it again any time soon, lord, I promise you that.» He repeated the gesture; that first winter in Makuran had been far harder on him than on Abivard and his family.

  Roshnani held out the letter to Abivard, who took it back from her. «The rest of this isn't so bad, either,» she said.

  «I know,» he said, and lowering his voice so that only she and Pashang could hear, he added, «It's so good, in fact, I almost wonder whether Sharbaraz truly wrote it.»

  His principal wife and the driver both smiled and nodded, as if they'd been thinking the same thing. Roshnani said, «Having a son and heir come into the world is liable to do wonders for anyone's disposition. I remember how you were after Varaz was born, for instance.»

  «Oh?» Abivard said in a tone that might have sounded ominous to anyone who didn't know him and Roshnani well. «And how was I?»

  «Dazed and pleased,» she answered; looking back on it, he decided she was probably right. Pointing to the parchment, she went on, «The man who wrote that letter is about as dazed and pleased as Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his days be long and his realm increase, ever lets himself get.»

  «You're right,» Abivard said in some surprise; he hadn't looked at it like that. Poor bastard, he thought. He would have said that to Roshnani, but he didn't want Pashang to hear it, so he kept quiet.

  Peasants in loincloths labored in the fields around the Thousand Cities, some of them bringing in the crops, others busy repairing the canals the Videssians had wrecked. Abivard wondered, with a curiosity slightly greater than idle, how the peasants would have gone about repairing the half twist Maniakes' mages had given that one canal.

  No one in the land of the Thousand Cities came rushing out from the cities or in from the fields to clasp his hand and congratulate him for what he had done. He hadn't expected anyone to do that, so he wasn't disappointed. Annies got no credit from the people in whose land they fought.

  Khimillu, city governor of Qostabash, the leading town the Videssians had not sacked in the area, turned red under his swarthy skin when Abivard proposed garrisoning troops there for the winter. «This is an outrage!» he thundered in a fine, deep voice. «What with the war, we are poor. How are we to support these men gobbling our food and fondling our women?»

  However impressive Khimillu's voice, he was a short, plump man, a native of the Thousand Cities. That let Abivard look down his nose at him. «If you don't want to feed them, I suppose they'll just have to go away,» he said, using a ploy that had proved effective in the land of the Thousand Cities. «Then, next winter, you can explain to Maniakes why you don't feel like feeding his troopers—if he hasn't burned this town down around your ears by then.»

  But Khimillu, unlike some other city governors, was made of stern stuff despite his unprepossessing appearance. «You will not do such a thing. You cannot do such a thing,» he declared. Again unlike other city governors, he sounded unbluffably certain.

  That being so, Abivard did not try to bluff him. Instead he said, «Maybe not. Here is what I can do, though: I can write to my brother-in-law, Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his years be many and his realm increase, and tell him exactly how you are obstructing my purpose here. Have one of your scribes bring me pen and ink and parchment; the letter can be on its way inside the hour. Does that suit you better, Khimillu?»

  If the city governor had gone red before, he went white now. Abivard would not have had the stomach to endanger all of Qostabash because of his obstinacy. Getting rid of an obstreperous official, though, wouldn't affect the rest of the town at all. «Very well, lord,» Khimillu said, suddenly remembering—or at least acknowledging—Abivard outranked him. «It shall be as you say, of course. I merely wanted to be certain you understood the predicament you face here.»

  «Of course you did,» Abivard said. In another tone of voice that would have been polite agreement. As things were, he had all but called Khimillu a liar to his face. With some thousands of men at his back, he did not need to appease a city governor who cared nothing for those men once they had done him the services he had expected of them.

  Blood rose once more to Khimillu's face. Red, white, red—he might have done for the colors of Makuran. Abivard wondered whether he should hire a taster to check his meals for as long as he stayed in Qostabash. In a tight voice the city governor said, «You could spread your men around through more cities hereabouts if the Videssians hadn't burned so many.»

  «We don't work miracles,» Abivard answered. «All we do is the best we can. Your town is intact, and the Videssians have been driven away.»

  «Small thanks to you,» Khimillu said. «For a very long time the Videssians were near, and you far away. Had they stretched out their hands toward Qostabash, it would have fallen like a date from a tree.»

  «It may yet fall like a date from a tree,» Abivard said. The city governor's complaint had just enough truth in it to sting. Abivard had done his best to be everywhere at once between the Tutub and the Tib, but his best had not always been good enough. Still– «We are going to garrison soldiers here this winter, the better to carry on the war against Videssos when spring comes. If you try to keep us from doing that, I promise: you and this city will have cause to regret it.»

  «That is an outrage!» Khimillu said, which was probably true I shall write to Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his days be long and his realm increase, and inform him of what…»

  His voice faded. Complaining to the King of Kings about what one of his generals was doing stood some chance of getting a city governor relief. Complaining to the King of Kings about what his brother-in-law was doing stood an excellent chance of getting a city governor transferred to some tiny village on the far side of the Sea of Salt, to the sort of place where no one cared if the taxes were five years in arrears because five years worth of taxes from it wouldn't have bought three mugs of wine at a decent tavern.

  With the poorest of poor graces, Khimillu said, «Very well. Since I have no choice in the matter, let it be as you say.»

  «The troops do have to stay somewhere,» Abivard said reasonably, «and Qostabash is the city that's suffered least in these parts.»

  «And thus we shall suffer on account of your troops,» the governor returned. «I have trouble seeing the justice in that.» He threw his hands in the air, defeated. «But you are too strong for me. Aye, it shall be as you desire in all things, lord.»

  Abivard rapidly discovered what he meant by that: not the wholehearted cooperation the words implied nor, really, cooperation of any sort. What Khimillu and the officials loyal to him did was stand aside and refrain from actively interfering with Abivard. Beyond that they did their best to pretend that neither he nor the soldiers existed. If that was how they viewed granting his desires in
all things, he shuddered to think what would have happened had they opposed him.

  «We should have loosed Khimillu against the Videssians,» Abivard told Roshnani after they and their children had been installed in some small, not very comfortable rooms a good distance from the city governor's palatial residence. «He would have made them flee by irking them too much for them to stay.» He chuckled at his own conceit.

  «They've been irksome themselves lately,» she said, thumping at a lumpy cushion to try to beat it into some semblance of comfort. When she leaned back against it, she frowned and punched it some more. At last satisfied, she went on, «And speaking of irksome, what do you aim to do about Tzikas?»

  «Drop me into the Void if I know what to do with him,» Abivard said, adding, «Or what to do to him,» a moment later. «That last letter from the King of Kings seems to give me free rein, but if the traitor hadn't escaped from Maniakes and come to us, who knows how long we might have been entangled with the Videssians' magic? I do need to remember that, I suppose.»

  «But the Videssians' magic was only that screen, with nothing behind it,» Roshnani said.

  «Tzikas couldn't have known that… I don't think.» Abivard drummed his fingers on his thigh. «The trouble is, if I leave Tzikas to his own devices, in two weeks' time he'll be writing to Sharbaraz, telling him what a wretch I am. Khimillu has a sense of restraint; Tzikas has never heard of one.»

  «I can't say you're wrong about that, and I wouldn't try,» his principal wife said. «You still haven't answered my question: what are you going to do about him?»

  «I don't know,» Abivard admitted. «On the one hand, I'd like to be rid of him once for all so I wouldn't have to worry about him anymore. But I keep thinking he might be useful against Maniakes, and so I hold off from killing him.»

  «Maniakes evidently thought the same thing in reverse, or he would have killed Tzikas after you arranged to give him to the Avtokrator,» Roshnani said.

  «Maniakes got some use out of the traitor,» Abivard said resentfully. «If it hadn't been for Tzikas, we would have crushed the Videssians in the battle on the ridge.» He checked himself. «But to be honest, we got a couple of years of decent use out of him before he decided to try to convince the King of Kings he could do everything better than I can.»

  «And the Videssians got good use from him before that, when he sat at Amorion and held us away from the Arandos valley,» Roshnani said.

  «But he was doing that for himself more than for Genesios or Maniakes.» Abivard laughed. «Tzikas has done more for—and to—both sides here than anyone else in the whole war. Nobody can possibly trust him now, but that doesn't mean he has no value.»

  «If you're going to use him against the Videssians, how do you propose to go about it?» Roshnani asked.

  «I don't know that, either, not right now,» Abivard admitted. All I aim to do is keep him alive—however much I don't like the idea—keep him under my control, and wait and see what sorts of chances I get, if I get any. In my place, what would you do?»

  «Kill him,» Roshnani said at once. «Kill him now and then write to tell the King of Kings what you've done. If Sharbaraz likes it—and after his latest letter he might—fine. If he doesn't like it, well, not even the King of Kings can order a man back from the dead.»

  That was so. Abivard's chuckle came out wry. «I wonder what Maniakes would say if he found out the chief marshal of Makuran had a wife who was more ruthless than he.»

  Roshnani smiled. «He might not be surprised. The Videssians give their women freer rein in more things than we do—why not in ruthlessness, too?» She looked thoughtful. «For that matter, who's to say Maniakes' wife who is also his cousin isn't more ruthless than he ever dreamed of being?»

  «Now, there's an interesting idea,» Abivard said. «Maybe one day, if we're ever at peace with Videssos and if Maniakes is still on his throne, you and his Lysia can sit down and compare what the two of you did to make each other's lives miserable during the war.»

  «Maybe we can,» Roshnani replied. Abivard had meant it as a joke, but she took him seriously. After a moment he decided she had—or might have had—reason to do so. She went on, «Speaking of ruthlessness, I meant what I said about the Videssian traitor. I'd sooner find a scorpion in my shoe than him on my side.»

  Abivard spoke in sudden decision. «You're right, by the God. He's stung me too often, too. I've held back because I've thought of the use I could get from him, but I'll never feel safe with him still around to cook up schemes against me.»

  «Checking you at the battle where you should have crushed Maniakes should weigh in the scales, too,» Roshnani said.

  «Checking me? He came too close to killing me,» Abivard said. «That's the last time he'll thwart me, though, by the God.» He went to the door of the apartment and ordered the sentry to summon a couple of soldiers who had distinguished themselves in the summer's fighting. When they arrived, he gave them their orders. Their smiles were all glowing eyes and sharp teeth. They drew their swords and hurried away.

  He had a servant fetch a jar of wine, with which he intended to celebrate Tzikas' premature but not untimely demise. But when the soldiers returned to give him their report, they had the look of dogs that had seen a meaty bone between the boards of a fence but hadn't been able to squeeze through and seize the morsel. One of them said, «We found out he has leave to go walking through the streets of Qostabash so long as he returns to his quarters by sunset. He's not quite an ordinary prisoner, the guards told me.» His expression said more clearly than words what he thought of that

  «The guard is right, and the fault is mine,» Abivard said. «I give you leave to look for him in the city and kill him wherever you happen to find him. Or if that doesn't suit you, wait till sunset and put an end to him then.»

  «If it's all the same to you, lord, we'll do that,» the soldier said. «I'm just a farm boy and not used to having so many people around all the time. I might kill the wrong one by mistake, and that would be a shame.» His comrade nodded. Abivard shrugged.

  But Tzikas did not return to his quarters when the sun went down. When he didn't, Abivard sent soldiers—farm boys and others—through the bazaars and brothels of Qostabash looking for him. They did not find him. They did find a horse dealer who had sold him—or at least had sold someone who spoke the Makuraner language with a lisping accent—a horse.

  «Drop me into the Void!» Abivard shouted when that news reached him. «The rascal saw his head going down on the block, and now he's gone and absconded—and he has most of the day's start on us, too.»

  Romezan was there to hear the report, too. «Don't take it too hard, lord,» he said. «We'll run the son of a whore to earth; you see if we don't. Besides, where is he going to go?»

  That was a good question. As Abivard thought about it, he began to calm down. «He can't very well run off to Maniakes' army, now, can he? Not anymore he can't, not with the Videssians gone to Lyssaion and probably back to Videssos the city by sea already. And if he doesn't run off to the Videssians, we'll hunt him down.»

  «You see?» Romezan said. «It's not so bad.» He paused and fiddled with one spike of his mustache. «Pretty slick piece of work, though, wasn't it? Him figuring out the exact right time to slide away, I mean.»

  «Slick is right,» Abivard said, angry at himself. «He never should have had the chance… but I did trust him, oh, a quarter of the way, because the warning he gave us was a real one.» He paused. «Or I thought it was a real one. Still, the magical screen the Videssians had set up was just that—a screen, nothing more But it delayed us almost as much as it would have if it had had deadly sorcery concealed behind it. We always thought Tzikas didn't know it was only a screen. But what if he did? What if Maniakes sent him out to make us waste as much time as he possibly could and help the Videssian army get away?»

  «If he did that,» Romezan said, «if he did anything like that, we don't handle him ourselves when we catch him. We send him back to Mashiz in chains, under heav
y guard, and let Sharbaraz' torturers take care of him a little at a time. That's what he pays them for.»

  «Most of the time I'd fight shy of giving anyone over to the torturers,» Abivard said. «For Tzikas, especially if he did that, I'd make an exception.»

  «I should hope so,» Romezan replied. «You're too soft sometimes, if you don't mind my saying so. If I had to bet, I'd say it came from hauling a woman all over the landscape. She probably thinks it's a shame to see blood spilled, doesn't she?»

  Abivard didn't answer, convincing Romezan of his own right-ness. The reason Abivard didn't answer, though, was that he was having to do everything he could to keep from laughing in his lieutenant's face. Romezan's preconceptions had led him to a conclusion exactly opposite the truth.

  But that wouldn't matter, either. However Abivard had reached his decision, he wanted Tzikas dead now. He offered a good-sized reward for the return of the renegade alive and an even larger one for his head, so long as it was in recognizable condition.

  When morning came, he sent riders out to the south and east after Tzikas. He also had dogs brought into the Videssian's quarters to take his scent and then turned loose to hunt him down wherever he might be. The dogs, however, lost the trail after the time when Tzikas bought his horse; not enough of his scent had clung to the ground for them to follow it.

  The human hunters had no better luck. «Why couldn't you have turned bloodthirsty a day earlier than you did?» Abivard demanded of Roshnani.

  «Why couldn't you?» she returned, effectively shutting him up.

  Every day that went by the searchers spread their nets wider. Tzikas did not get caught in those nets, though. Abivard hoped he'd perished from bandits or robbers or the rigor of his flight. If he ever did turn up in Videssos again, he was certain to be trouble.

  XII

  Mashiz grew nearer with every clop of the horses' hooves, with every squealing revolution of the wagon's wheels. «Summoned to the capital,» Abivard said to Roshnani. «Nice to hear that without fearing it's going to mean the end of your freedom, maybe the end of your life.»