Intimations of Evil (Warriors of Vhast Book 1)

by Cary J Lenehan

  Images of trees and a town that never arrived hung in the air ahead. Eventually Theodora could see a patch of water in the distance that did not disappear and this slowly grew into the permanent water that enabled the existence of fields of plants and the village of Dochra. This water was fed from below in aquifers, some said by water that flowed underground from the mountains thousands and thousands of chains to the west. Also ahead of her, for the first time in her entire trip, was a single rider going the same way that she was. At least it was not someone who had been following her. She was not moving fast, but the other person was moving slower. Whoever they were they rode one horse and led two others behind them, one a pack animal and the other a riding animal without a rider in its saddle. The stranger ahead led her into the palm groves and fields of maize and peas that surrounded Dochra by a few hundred paces.

  Chapter III

  As he rode in Basil looked over Dochra. He had been here before and it still seemed to be an incomplete town. Three rows of adobe houses on a low slope formed the three sides of a hollow square facing the bubbling spring and resultant small stream that fed the only permanent water of the lake. He gazed over the large square which was several hundred paces across and looked to be well used by caravans and army units to camp in. From the marks and the floating dust and, despite the best efforts of the local sweeper, it still had hanging over it the faint sweet smell of animal shit.

  The military post was a small one on the side closest to the lake along with buildings that, among other things, housed a stable, an inn and a hall. He guessed that the post saw more messengers than anything else. There was a rail outside to hitch horses onto and a wooden watering trough. By the time Basil had reached the post the rider behind had well and truly emerged from the palms, and by the time he had his horses tied up the other was beside him.

  Now that he was closer, a quick glance showed it had to be Theodora. She was equipped as an Insackharl Kataphractoi. The horse must have good stamina to still be moving so well in the heat with all the armour it carried. What is more she not only rode in full armour in the safe heart of the Empire, but had the mail drape of the helm worn over her face to hide her features. The armour was nice work, but looking over it, the saddle and the rest of the tack, he could see it had not been cared for properly. No one who had been through officer’s school would have allowed that. He itched to get to work. It didn’t take long, even in this heat, for sweat drops to form rust and to weaken the leather and cause it to break.

  Despite the lance and the other usual weapons, the armour was obviously that of a mage, albeit one who expected to see combat. It was high quality, inlaid with mystic symbols and runes and very expensive. This was confirmed by the roll over the withers, obviously not a blanket, so it was most likely a rolled up casting pattern. Basil fussed around with the horses for a bit longer so that she entered the post first. He wanted to be seen as being with her. He hung back at a servant’s distance as she approached the desk.

  “I am Salimah al Sabah,” she said in a musical, and very sexy, voice. “I am on a tour of the Empire before I must join my unit. Do you have accommodation in the post?”

  It sounded like a practiced line. She must have been using it for several days at all the posts from Ardlark.

  “I am sorry ma’am,” said the Human sergeant behind the desk. “This is a very small post. All of our travellers here, even the ones on duty, use the inn and stable at the other end of this row.” He sounded regretful as his hand waved in that direction. “I am sure that they will have accommodation for you and your servant.”

  “My servant?” she asked looking around puzzled. “I don’t have a servant.”

  “Do you need one?” asked Basil keenly as if a very young man out on his own and alone. “My master was hunting when he was bitten by a snake and has died. I have just buried him up on the knoll near town and I am free to take other work. I can send his horse back to Ardlark from here with a note to his unit. That’s all that would be expected of me. I am not in the army and so am not obliged to go myself. He would prefer me to gain work rather than go without.”

  Salimah seemed to think for a moment. “What makes you desirable as a servant and what makes you think that I need one?”

  “If Milady will pardon me, your clothing under your armour shows that it needs some attention that would be beneath you. I am a good cook. I have served as an officer’s batman and am competent in caring for most wounds. Alas,” he added ruefully “unless I have a potion, I have no skill in dealing with poisons. I can care for Milady’s clothes and know how to wash and mend. I have worked in both the field and in garrisons. Is that what Milady seeks?”

  She seemed to realise that she really needed a servant. Basil saw her glance down at her armour. It was new, but had she noted the flecks and spots on it? He could see sweat stains on the parts of the clothing that could be seen under the armour and, to be frank, she could be smelt from some way off. He could see her mind working away. Surely she would realise…

  “I will give you a trial,” she finally said. “I have never really employed someone before. What do I pay you?”

  “We will work that out when you decide if I am suitable,” replied Basil. “I am called Basil Akritas, Milady, or as my employer you can call me by my family name of Kutsulbalik.” She smiled at this. She did not realise that a junior Insackharl officer, such as she claimed to be, even if they were a mage, would have corrected him and demanded to be called ‘Ma’am’ even if from a noble house.

  “I will be leaving a horse tethered outside,” Basil said quietly to the post sergeant, trying not to be overheard in what he said. “It belonged to my late master. There is a note in a saddlebag. Apart from feed and water nothing needs to be done with the beast. Please arrange for the horse to be sent to Strategos Panterius in Ardlark.” Basil noted that the sergeant suddenly paid more attention to the servant, but Salimah showed no reaction confirming that she was not who she said she was. Any soldier of any rank above the lowest should know the name of the head of the Antikataskopeía.

  “Of course,” said the Sergeant and saluted Basil with a fist placed over the heart. Luckily Salimah had turned away. Basil frowned at the sergeant, who quickly dropped his hand.

  “Milady, shall we see the inn?” Basil ushered her out the door and gathered his two horses and hers before he followed her a few doors along. Hers was a battle steed and it took all his skill to get it to cooperate with an unfamiliar person. ‘The Old Lobster’, its sign showing a Kataphractoi in full armour, was actually better than Basil had expected but, from the expression in his new mistress’ face, a bit of a disappointment to her.

  Once they were shown to their rooms, a large one for her with a much smaller one next door for him, they found them clean and comfortable. The rooms she had taken were well beyond the means of a junior officer on tour, but Salimah did not seem to notice. Basil installed their saddlebags, unpacking hers and hanging everything that needed it.

  After he had lain everything out he went to the stables to check on the horses. On returning to the main house the Islamic clothes had gone from where he had hung them and the travel clothes worn under the armour were in a pile at the foot of the bed and in need of attention. After arranging them to be washed and dried for the next morning Basil returned to the room and brushed, cleaned and oiled the armour before neatly arraying it on an armour stand. He had a look at her weapons as well and cleaned them. Soon the room smelt of neatsfoot and mineral oils. Then he went to the stables and did the same with her tack. Luckily the stable hand had already done the horses. Basil grinned. He must have danced nimbly to have done that warhorse with its hairy stomping feet.

  Having finished his tasks, Basil returned downstairs to find the inn in full swing. Salimah was sitting in a corner, watching everything and, despite her Islamic dress, drinking a glass of wine, sipping it under a veil. It is possible that she was just not very observant of the laws, but then, why the veil? When it arrived the m
eal was in accord with the inn; plain but well prepared and tasty. The food was in the fashionable Islamic style. Very few were eating there but once the meal was over the inn’s function as the local social centre became obvious.

  The locals were all Human, mostly Islamic, but with a few Christian families. One group was drinking kaf and sitting at hookahs, fragrant-scented tobacco or others herbs burning within, another drinking the local red wine. Typically of any village in the Empire they mixed and shared conversations and pipes. With so many different people in it, Hrothnog could not afford to have religious or racial strife in his domain and making sure that it did not occur had been one of the main duties of Basil’s corps. Basil feared that it would be different outside and he, as a part Kharl could suffer problems from their ignorance.

  After they had eaten Salimah surprised Basil by starting to sing to the people in the inn. She went on to tell a story and then some poems and then back to songs. Basil found an older local man in a headscarf pondering a chessboard with a vacant seat beside him and settled in there for the night while the locals enjoyed what was obviously a rare treat for them. This would be how ‘Salimah’ would be able to pay for rooms and such that were beyond her means. To Basil’s surprise it turned out she was quite a good entertainer. He had heard many people that were far older than she appeared to be and who had a lot less skill. This could be an interesting trip. He wondered what other skills she might have.

  Chapter IV

  Theodora looked at the little man beside her at the desk. At first glance he seemed to be a very plain and ordinary youth, but she was used to looking beyond what a first glance would show; after all, she was one hundred years older than she looked. At a second appraisal he seemed more certain than a youth should be. Still, she really did need a servant. A man may not be ideal, but he was there and might have what she needed. As they walked back to the inn she could sense the magic he wore. It all appeared very minor, and without turning around she could not pin it down, but it seemed to focus on his waist, probably something on his weapons and something else in a pouch. He looked neat and tidy, far tidier than her, and seemed to have good manners. He said he could cook; presumably he could care for horses. Maybe he could even sew. All of these were areas where she had grown very conscious of the lack of training or experience that she had as one who had been brought up in the palace. Yes, he would have to do.

  When they reached their rooms her last impressions were confirmed as he acted the same as every maid she had ever had when she’d stayed overnight at a strange place. He went straight to hang things up and to lay out her toiletries. After he left to check on the horses Theodora gathered some clean clothes and went to the bathhouse. It was clean and the water was hot.

  She luxuriated in the clean house clothes from The Grey Doe before heading downstairs to wait for food. The cool cotton and silk of these clothes on her clean body made her think. Should she start entertaining again? Instead of staying in an army post, she was back in an inn, presumably a fairly normal one, the kind she would see a lot of. At least she could test her skills with the sort of people that she would be seeing all of the time before it became vital to earn money this way. It might look a little strange to Basil, but anyone who had a family name that was so obviously both part Kharl and yet Christian as ‘Holy Fish’ should be used to at least some small amount of whimsy. When Basil joined her downstairs he did not blink at her house clothes; the deception seemed to be working perfectly.

  The best that could be said of the meal is that it was not army food. Theodora hoped Basil could cook better than this. The couscous and lamb lacked all the delicate flavours and fluffiness that she was used to and the pilaf was just, plain. The baklava and rakis lacoum were acceptable after the main meal and the kaf at least was thick, hot and sweet.

  Afterwards she approached the landlord. He was happy to have someone entertain his clients. The village was too small to have a regular bard, although some of the villagers could make some music for local events. She settled in for the night, eschewing any court music and stories apart from the most fantastic. The veil got in the way, but she left it on. Gradually, as word spread, the whole village seemed to gather around. She noticed that Basil was sitting in a corner sharing a hubble-bubble pipe and a game of chess with a local Islamic elder. Good, if he could play chess she would have to find a place to buy a board. She wondered if he could beat her. It was unlikely, but she could always hope. It was becoming hard to find good competition, even in the palace.

  The night went well. Some locals disappeared for a while and then instruments appeared. Even a garrison sergeant, an Alat-kharl, joined in on, of all things, a hammered dulcimer. She had never seen a Kharl play more than drums or sometimes horns or pipes before. He must have made it and taught himself to play as well by the sound it made. Her band would never play at the palace, but they were at least enthusiastic. Money started to appear in front of them, which she left sitting, only drawing from it for refreshments for herself and the band.

  The local mage must be water-based in his work. It was the only way they could have cool drinks this far into the Plain—with ice even. Theodora had enjoyed herself so much it was only when people began to come up and bid goodnight that she realised how late it was. There was time for one last song, perhaps about sleep, ah yes, Sohab’s Dream. She then divided up the money with the band, thanking them for their efforts and, finally, went to bed. Basil followed her up stairs close on her heals. He was very attentive and after she had gone into her room and locked the door, Theodora heard him testing the lock and rattling it. It seemed he took his charge seriously.

  ~~~

  Pounding, pounding. Drums in the distance...the door…that is what it was, the door, not drums at all. Theodora jumped out of bed, roused from a deep sleep, unlocked the door and saw that it was just her servant, Basil. She smelt kaf. He had food and clothes—clothes! She was naked. Basil seemed oblivious to what she wore, or didn’t wear. That was a good sign. She knew her eyes were bleary with sleep and she didn’t have her charm on so they were their normal colour, her hair as well.

  His eyes casted around for a place for the tray and he must not have noticed or she thought he would have reacted. After quickly donning the ear charm she reached for some juice. It was probably best that he had seen her naked anyway. She now had the final proof that he was a real servant. That total lack of reaction to what their masters wore, or didn’t wear, took years of training.

  After he had laid out her travel clothes Basil let himself out. Now drinking kaf and eating—at least they could make good pastries here—Theodora dressed herself. It was only when she turned to where she had dropped her armour that she realised it had been cleaned and put on a rack. It smelt faintly of oil and shone. The marks that had been starting to appear on it were gone. Some fruit and more kaf and she was now ready to face the world. Put on her other jewellery and then another knock on the door and Basil was letting himself back inside to pack. He already had all of his things with him.

  Once they reached the stables she realised the horses were already waiting and ready to leave. What time had he woken up? Had he slept at all? Had he eaten? He was even ready to help her into the saddle. The inn, she hadn’t paid for breakfast. He must have paid for that as well.

  “Before we leave I want to see if I can buy something here,” she said. “Have we paid our bill?”

  “Yes, Milady,” he replied.

  “In that case I need to give you expense money.” She fumbled in her purse and handed Basil some coins without really looking at them. She knew that you had to trust servants. If you didn’t, then they became untrustworthy. “Tell me when you need some more.” She started walking down the row of buildings, past the army post. The door guard saluted her and she nodded back. She was looking for the store that was dealing in goods that came from outside this area. Every village, no matter what size it was, had at least one of these. Theodora found it, entered and discovered Basil had followed her.
He must have already tied the horses up. The shopkeeper, a Christian by his dress, came to greet her with a warm smile on his face. He must have been there last night.

  “I want to buy a small chess set,” Theodora said. She thought about last night and turned to Basil. “Do you play any instruments?”

  “No, Milady,” he replied and for an instant she thought she saw a flicker of surprise cross his face at the question, but it was quickly gone.

  “Never mind,” she declared loftily and waved a hand. “You can learn. I may need some backing.” Turning again to the shopkeeper she added, “And a small dombec or a tambour or some other type of drum.”

  The shopkeeper fussed around for a while looking through boxes and under counters before unearthing a small board, which he apologetically wiped some dust off. It was suitable for carrying in a saddlebag and made of some sort of inlaid timber with two small drawers containing pieces for chess and draughts with the pieces being made of ebony and ivory. Theodora looked critically at it, but soon realised that it was still fairly new, perhaps even unused. It was not as good as something you found in the palace, but certainly good enough for a hunting lodge. The drum was easier to find. He had several of them on hand. Theodora selected two tambours of different sizes that would fit one inside the other. They were of timber and had goatskin laced over them. She also chose a small beater for the drums.

  “Is there anything that you need?” she turned and asked Basil.

  “No, Milady. I was prepared for a long trip away from towns,” he replied.

  “Then let us go.” Theodora turned back and bought the items. Carefully counting it out she ended up handing over a golden imperial, four gold denarii and the same of silver sesterces and several silver numismata. She turned again to go and realised that even though he tried not to show disapproval, Basil’s face looked a little like that of Saidah when they had first started to shop.