by Tony Roberts
Evas was not pleased to see him; he clearly resented the presence of the military commander but he was powerless to do anything about it. Prelek’s dismissal was a running sore with him, and although Vosgaris hadn’t interfered with the appointment of his replacement by the governor, it was abundantly clear that should the commander not approve of him he could well arrange for the new advisor’s dismissal too. Evas knew this was the trouble with making the military too powerful; they dominated the running of civilian affairs even to the point of being the de-facto rulers themselves.
This was why the Fokis and Duras had worked to reduce the influence of the army. They saw the danger of having too much power in the hands of a few people who were not of the ruling elite. It upset the whole order of society. He had worked so hard to make Niake and Bathenia a moderating influence in Kastania, not to take any sides, to maintain a balance, but now that had all been swept aside and the province was in the hands of a minor nobleman under the direct command of the emperor with a large armed force at his behest.
“How were the emperor and empress?” Evas asked in as neutral a tone he could muster.
“Much better, Governor. The emperor was very much like his old self and the empress was in good health. They send their compliments to you, by the way.” They hadn’t – and in fact Astiras’ words had contained some best not passed on, but Vosgaris deemed it prudent to keep the irritated governor as sweet as he could.
The new advisor, a small, pale individual in a badly fitting jacket and baggy leggings, stood impassively. He was a lawyer by profession, but had been finding work hard to come by of late and had been in the council buildings when Prelek’s ‘descent’ had occurred. He had queried the legality of what had happened but had been told to shut it fast. Evas though had been impressed by the fact he had questioned what had happened and had appointed the man that day.
“So – what are your intentions for the rest of the year?”
“Exercises, frontier policing, road guarding. We need more outposts. This province is sadly lacking in them. The soldiers have been allowed to get soft and fat for too long doing nothing, and I’m going to turn them into the fittest, healthiest men in the entire Kastanian army. That, Governor, includes your militia.”
“But what about the policing of the city? You can’t take them all out and leave us here unprotected!”
“Relax, Governor,” Vosgaris sighed. It was hard to deal with a man as obdurate as Evas at times. He took things so literally. “The militia will deal with the city and the lowlands, the roads between here and Aconia for example, and the regulars further afield. Niake will have sufficient members of the militia to protect even you. You’ll be relieved to hear I will be out and about more often than not so you can continue to govern without my presence distracting you.”
The advisor stirred. “The Governor here should be able to govern with or without your presence irrespectively. Your remit is, am I correct, restricted to the military of this province?”
Vosgaris nodded.
“Then governing this province is not your concern. If the emperor is not pleased with the way things are run here then it is up to him to decide, not you, with all due respect.”
“With all due respect,” Vosgaris smiled, rather unsettlingly as far as the two men were concerned. “Yes. Respect. You know, Lord Kanzet showed me little of that at the Council meeting. Ebril Kanzet, you have heard of him?”
Evas and the advisor said they had.
“I cut him down in front of the emperor and the Council. The House of Kanzet now has to appoint a new head.”
Both men paled. Evas rummaged in a drawer and pulled out a small cloth and wiped his forehead. The advisor shifted his attention from Vosgaris to Evas and back again. “And – by this you imply that should we fail to show due respect to you our fate would be similar?”
Vosgaris knew he had no real power to do so, but it didn’t hurt to show the two men he was capable of it. “I enjoy the full confidence of the emperor, else he would not have appointed me here in this post. I have been discussing directly with Prince Jorqel these past few days the need to enforce a combined military reaction force here in the west, and he has the fullest confidence in me, too. I have the absolute backing of both the empress and Princess Amne, and Prince Argan and I are very good friends. He will, as you both are aware, no doubt be taking up an appointment here in a year or so. Therefore you should be mindful of your duties, rather than worrying unduly about mine.”
Evas stared at the tanned, confident man before him, cursing him under his breath. “I am entitled to complain about your conduct, Commander.”
“Then do so. I would be interested in the response you get. Write to Prince Jorqel in Slenna, or Prince Elas in Kastan, or even the emperor himself. Tell you what – write to all three. They’ll no doubt be delighted to hear of the lack of confidence you have in their appointee.”
The atmosphere in the room could have been sliced by a sword. Vosgaris smiled again and stood. “I am dining out this evening; I have an appointment. I shall, regretfully, not be eating with you. No doubt that will be to all of our relief. Good day.”
After he had gone Evas swore and looked out of the window. He found no comfort there. The sight of even two soldiers idly making their rounds through the square made him feel as if he were in a prison of some sort. “I shall write to the emperor,” he said, “and make it clear I am not happy with his attitude. It won’t hurt to make my feelings clear, and who knows, it may result in our dear commander being reined in a little. I may even suggest that I be permitted to regain control over the militia, as I am concerned about the power Commander Taboz is wielding, and he could with such numbers even possibly come to challenge the power of any other force in Kastania.”
“A good idea, Governor,” the advisor concurred. “Use an emperor’s paranoia against the very people he appoints. A wise move indeed.”
Thus encouraged, Evas picked up his quill and prepared to compose a letter to Astiras.
Later that evening Vosgaris knocked on the front door of the Kalfas home. Demtro had got a promise out of him to visit the day he got back. Clora had been pestering him incessantly, and so Demtro had given in and left a note for the commander which he had read the moment he had got back. Vosgaris had no doubt that Demtro would have known about his presence even before he had returned.
Clora answered the door and she caught sight of a tall man with dark hair, a broad chest, clear blue eyes, a trim half-beard and a rugged but handsome look. He wore a cloak with the imperial insignia upon it, and behind him a short distance away stood two guards. She curtseyed. “Commander Taboz, I presume?”
“Please, Vosgaris. You must be the delightful Clora.” He extended his right hand.
She took it and he kissed the back of her hand. She smiled. “Please, come in. What about your two companions?”
“They are on duty,” Vosgaris said, and signalled for them to remain on guard outside. “One cannot be too careful these days, you know. Someone of my position is a nice fat juicy target.”
Clora showed him in and shut the door. “A big, strong man like yourself, Commander? Oh, sorry, Vosgaris?”
“Even one as big and strong as me,” Vosgaris grinned and looked at Clora in the light of the hall. He liked what he saw. Red hair piled up and curled in the latest fashion, fixed with pins and a band, whitened skin thanks to pricey powder and cream – Vosgaris had been around the palace long enough to recognise expensive cosmetics by now – oval green eyes, a wide mouth but not unattractive, full lips and a straight, strong but not large nose. Classic western Kastanian. She came up to his chin, slim but well proportioned.
“Vosgaris?” she asked, noting his gaze.
“Just looking over my host,” he said, unfastening his cloak and passing it to her. “I’ve heard you are a beauty and I’m not disappointed.”
She smiled, revealing a full set of teeth, one or two teeth slightly crooked, but nothing to make him regret her smil
e. “And you are very handsome, Vosgaris. Demtro tells me you’re quite a lady killer.”
“Ah those tales are hugely exaggerated I can assure you.”
Clora scoffed and led him to the middle reception room where Demtro stood to welcome him. They shook hands. “About time we had you round for dinner, Commander. Clora here has been making my life a torment; she has been dying to meet you.”
“And glad of that I am, too. Your wife is absolutely delightful. You’re a lucky man, Demtro.”
“I like to think so,” he said, pleased. “She’s become quite an expert cook, too.”
Clora kissed him on the cheek. “Only because he wanted someone to cook, wash and tidy up after him.”
“And leave him to concentrate on the more important aspects of life, no doubt, such as causing the governor trouble,” Vosgaris commented.
They laughed and sat down. “So, how was Zofela?”
Vosgaris brought them both up to date. Demtro looked impressed, and also thoughtful. Clora hung on to every word in fascination. “I can’t believe you’ve actually met both emperor and empress. It’s something I’ve always wanted to do. Oh, I’ve met Prince Jorqel and Princess Sannia – and Princess Amne!”
“You’ve got one over on me then, I’ve never met the Princess Sannia. I’m told she’s a lovely woman.”
“All princesses are,” Demtro said dryly, a wry smile on his lips.
“Oh, you know what I mean!” Clora said. “She’s a very nice and not stuck up type of person. Friendly. Do you know how we met?” she said to Vosgaris.
“Yes, the tale did circulate the palace. You were very brave to do what you did, Clora.” Vosgaris thought the ex-whore had done well for herself.
“I was scared out of my wits, but Demtro has kept his word and never sent me out on any more of those jobs. He retired me on the spot and proposed.”
Vosgaris laughed. “Yes I heard. Amne – sorry, Princess Amne told me in great detail. She heard it from Princess Sannia. Very romantic, I must say, Demtro.”
“I thought so,” the merchant agreed. “That and my irresistible personality. She was hopelessly lost.”
Clora poked her tongue out at him. “His timing was great – poor Zonis had just died and there he was proposing to me. I was far too upset to think straight.”
“And if you had been thinking straight? No doubt you would have turned this rogue down.”
Clora smiled, looked at Demtro, then laughed. “No, I could never say no to him.”
Vosgaris looked surprised. “A woman who can never say no? Demtro, you’re the luckiest man in all Kastania!”
It set the tone for the evening. Clora went off to cook the evening meal and they dined well. After dinner they relaxed in the study, or what passed for the study. In reality it was the best room, the first reception room. “I must extend my sympathies for your loss, by the way, Vosgaris,” Demtro said, settling into his chair comfortably. “It was a shock to hear of Alenna’s passing.”
“Thank you,” Vosgaris said. It still hurt him to think of her death, mostly because he had been unfaithful to her with Metila. He felt ambiguous towards the enigmatic Bragalese; she had done what she did because she wanted his silence on the knowledge of her child with Astiras. He wondered whether he would ever have cause to use that knowledge against the emperor, but decided for the moment it was not appropriate. He could always use it at a later date, promise or not to Metila.
“Yes it was awful,” Clora agreed. “I hope you’ve found peace in your heart now.”
“Mostly, but sometimes it does open out old wounds. Let’s not discuss that. Let’s discuss getting Clora to meet the empress.”
“Oh, can you? That’d be wonderful! Can you? Really?”
Demtro took his wife’s hand. “Calm down, calm down. Don’t get her unduly excited, Commander.”
“She’s going to be coming to Kastan City in the new year,” Vosgaris said, “but keep it to yourselves. I could arrange for the two of you to be there during that period.”
Demtro gave the commander a long, studied look. “How do you know that? I work for her and even I don’t know!”
Vosgaris touched the side of his nose. “Demtro, you may be her chief spy in Niake but there’re some things that not even the great Demtro Kalfas is privy to. Seriously, I’m aware of certain inside information simply because I happened to be around at the time some things were being discussed. Otherwise I would no doubt be as much in the dark as you are.”
“Ah,” Demtro appeared to be mollified. Vosgaris was surprised – but then he surmised everyone had some trait of weakness, and Demtro’s was vanity. He was over proud of his knowledge of everything, and when someone knew something he didn’t, it piqued him.
“Can we go, Demtro? Please?” Clora pleaded. Suddenly she was the girl of a few years back. “I’d love to meet the empress!”
Demtro squeezed her had and smiled. “Well, let’s see, shall we? It’s been a few years since I was in the old dump anyway.”
“Old dump?” Clora was scandalised.
Vosgaris grinned. “I think people would be horrified hearing you call it that. Kastan City, the Old Dump. There are some areas worthy of the title but it’s much cleaner and tidier in the main quarters than it is here. Niake is looking a bit tired. It needs a real clean up.”
“That’s our esteemed governor’s doing, Commander,” Demtro said, pulling a look of distaste. “He’s made doing nothing an art form. Your arrival shook things up no end, and you did the right thing getting rid of that blood sucker Prelek. He was robbing the treasury blind right from under Extonos’ nose and he didn’t even notice.”
“He’s enjoying an extended stay in the dungeons,” Vosgaris said. “We’re still looking for the last of the money he stole. He gave it to one of the shadier housing lords on the south side. We suspect Prelek wanted to get into landlording on a big scale and had bought a fair amount of stock off this man but he’s gone to ground and nobody’s saying anything. Prelek knows nothing, naturally; he just handed the money over and there was no paperwork, of course.”
Clora shook her head. “The south side is almost as bad as the place I grew up in, full of thieves, people crammed into poor housing and no law and order.”
“That’s going to change,” Vosgaris said with a big sigh. “The governor has no more control over the militia and they’re going in to police that area. We’re going to sweep the streets and alleyways and clear the scum out. With the housing we now own thanks to Prelek – he doesn’t need them anymore, does he? – we’ll probably knock them down and build better housing.”
“What of those living in them at the present moment? You can’t throw them out onto the streets!” Clora objected. “They’re people and have feelings, too.”
“Don’t worry about that, Clora,” Vosgaris said. “Part of the work will be done by these people. We’re setting up temporary housing in an area that has no structures. Remember those riots ten years or so ago? They cleaned up the mess in the central section of this city but the temple that they destroyed in the south quarter was never rebuilt and it’s a charred mess of rubble and blackened beams. That’s being cleared out and then we’ll erect wooden huts for the families. It’ll be a squeeze but with some luck we’ll not cause too many problems. The governor is against it, but then that’s because its actually doing something. The city council is in favour because it means they now can collect the rents from these properties and are keen to get that going.”
“Isn’t that a civil matter and outside your jurisdiction, Vosgaris?” Demtro asked.
“Yes, but the councillors persuaded the governor to allow it to happen, especially when they told him they could make a lot of money in selling on the stock. Evas thinks we’ll recoup the lot that Prelek stole. In any event, I told him that my men were going in regardless, to restore law and order, and if he didn’t want to get involved then he was failing in his duty, which went down well.”
“I bet he’s scheming to h
ave you removed. Watch your back – I’d hate to lose you; you’re such a welcome change to the stuffy inertia in the governor’s residence.”
“Glad to bring some enjoyment to your life, Demtro,” Vosgaris smiled, then took a sip of an excellent vine fruit from Romos.
Clora clasped her hands. “So when can we go to Kastan City? I’m so excited by the thought of going.”
“I’ll let you know but it’ll be short notice. Once I hear the empress is on her way then I’ll let you know. I’ll lay the groundwork now so the palace is aware you’ll both be visiting.”
Clora beamed. It was one of her ambitions coming true. To her the imperial family were semi-mythical beings, even though she had met three of them. Jorqel was her image of a prince, tall, handsome, brave, and Sannia was just a beautiful woman who was a perfect match for Jorqel. Amne was so different – striking, scarey even, but someone to obey without question.
Vosgaris left shortly afterwards, a warm glow inside, not only from the excellent alcohol, but also from a comfortable and enjoyable evening. He made a mental note to do more of that. His life had been dull and sad since Alenna’s passing, and the brief liaison with Isbel had only added to the stress of life. Not being able to have what you wanted in love was so painful. He needed to work and have something to take away the lonely nights.
His two guards were in the shadows on the other side of the street. Vosgaris stood in the middle of the street and waved them out. Both remained where they were. “Well, are you coming with me or not?”
“Sir, here, quick.” One of the men had spoken in a low throaty whisper. Vosgaris frowned. Something wasn’t right. Neither of his men had a voice that low.
“No, I’d rather you came here,” he said. “And that’s an order.”
The two men, one clearly larger than his two men had been, advanced out into the lamplight. They weren’t his men. Vosgaris dragged out his sword even as the two came for him, their own blades bared. The first, the bigger, came with his blade swinging down from high. Vosgaris met it and stepped to one side, away from the second man who was coming at him from the left, his unguarded side. He got a good look at the face of the bigger man, a swarthy, unshaven individual. Typical brute, mercenary, or just a plain remover, the type employed by people the world over to dispose of unwanted or irritating people.
