Interregnum tote-1

by S. J. A. Turney

  “So we don’t really need guards or soldiers, yes?”

  Again a buzz of general agreement.

  The commander smiled. “So what we really need at the moment are skilled civilians. Supplies have not arrived as I’m sure you’re aware and we can’t keep living off the islanders’ supplies or in the end we’ll all starve. Whether our supplies arrive or not, we may be here for a long time and anything we can do to improve conditions on the island will improve things for us as well as for them. I take it you all see that, yes?”

  The buzz returned, but died away as sergeant Iasus held his hand high.

  “Sir,” the sergeant offered, “I know we’re being lenient on these people and there are to be no crucifixions or beatings, but is it really our job to help them improve their prison? Aren’t we just giving them false hope?”

  Sabian smiled again. “False hope is better than no hope sergeant” he replied. “I for one want to be able to bathe. That’s going to be one of the first things to attend to, I think.”

  He addressed the crowd in general once more. “I’ve spoken with minister Turus already and he’s preparing me a list of the islanders who have specialised skills. I need to do some working out with you lot too. I know that in the old days the Imperial army taught skilled trades to the soldiers as well as just fighting skills and I assume that some of you older ones are the product of that army, yes?” The murmur went around again.

  Sabian sighed and produced a scrap of parchment that had seen better days and a stylus. ”Firstly, have any of you got any kind of engineering background.” Three hands went up, including sergeant Cialo. Sabian grinned. “Well done, Cialo. You’ve just volunteered to command the engineering section. Looks like you’ve two able seconds as well. That’s handy, cos I’ve three duties lined up for them.”

  Cialo craned his neck to see two older veterans at the back with their hands raised. He turned back to the commander and returned the smile. “Let me guess sir: the bathhouse, yes?”

  Sabian nodded. “First duty of the engineering detail. Clean out, repair and restore this bathhouse. You’ll need to do a lot of repair work on the aqueduct channels that run down to here as well as on the drainage pipes to the sea. The actual water source at the top must be in working order as the fountains in the courtyards have been repaired, though I gather as a source of fresh water rather than for decoration.” He took a deep breath. “Which leads me to the second engineering duty. The actual water-carriage system around the entire palace needs looking at. If they’ve had to restore the fountains for water, then there is some kind of blockage preventing the water from entering the buildings. This can be taken care of and then the buildings will have clean water again and maybe be can even work on the internal baths then. The third duty will be to survey the entire island. I want to know every piece of dangerous masonry, every conceivable landing point on the shore, where fishing jetties can be constructed and so on.” He coughed. “Are there any questions?”

  Cialo grunted. “That’s a hell of a lot of work sir. Just how many people are you thinking of assigning?”

  Sabian smiled. “I want you to ask for volunteers. Take forty men; the best you can find for the job. There are several locals who will be joining you, including the man responsible for the fountains. He probably knows this water system better than anyone. It’s up to you how you split the duties. They can all be done at once if you want to split them into three squads, or one after the other if you think that’s best. You’re the engineer.”

  “The second detail,” he announced, returning his attention to the group as a whole, “will be responsible for repairs and decorating in various buildings. One of the palace elders already has a schedule of works that the islanders have been adhering to, so I see no reason to deviate from that. I’m thinking of maybe twenty men for that detail. Preferably those with some small level of skill in the area, but I don’t think we’ll be too fussy.” He pointed at a short rather plump soldier at the front. “Even Crispin here can wield a brush!” The group laughed.

  “The third detail has the hardest work I think, but the most important job. Any of you who aren’t assigned to a group will need to join the workforce on the island and involve yourselves in farming, fishing and all other sources of food production. I’ll warn you against fishing until we’ve surveyed the coast unless you’ve a stout heart and you’re a damn good swimmer, but I’ll leave that up to you and your individual skills.”

  He sighed and leaned back against the wall. “Now, I intend on keeping a small group still as guards and lookouts. Maybe a dozen men in three four-man rotating squads on eight hour shifts. That’ll be the last. Everyone should be involved then.” He looked down at Iasus. “Which of the other details do you want to take sergeant?”

  Iasus looked up at the commander, distaste showing on his face. “I think I’d be happier leading the guard detail sir. It’s what I’m trained for.”

  Sabian nodded. He couldn’t imagine Iasus the farmer anyway.

  “Very well.” He handed the papyrus and stylus to Iasus and addressed the entire group. “The two sergeants will call for volunteers and assign squads. I’ll be joining the island’s council at least until Sarios is capable of the role again. When the groups are chosen and you’ve picked out a few leaders or representatives, get your men together and start planning. First thing in the morning I want a small deputation from each detail to come to the council of elders in the Raven Palace and discuss how we proceed.”

  Leaving the group muttering and arguing, Sabian held his breath as he walked past the door of the bathhouse and toward the Water Gate on his way back to the palace. If nothing else at least he would be able to bathe soon and the troops would be kept busy and occupied. He remembered in the accounts of Caerdin’s northern campaigns that the army had been garrisoned throughout the winter and the troops were becoming increasingly restless and lazy. The general had set his entire army to building a wall of turf and timber that stretched fully twenty five miles across the Galtic Narrows that he’d defended a decade earlier. This was much the same principle though the conditions were greatly different. Thoughts of Caerdin inevitably led his mind back to the subject of Darius and he wondered where the boy was. There were a few hours before he needed to interrupt the elders, but other jobs he could be doing. He stopped for a moment by the dilapidated Imperial shrines and pondered where to go first. Probably best to visit Sarios he thought and, sighing gently, headed for the Raven Palace once more.

  The minister was being kept in his rooms at the palace on the top floor, above the continually-used dining room. Sabian wondered whether they’d been the rooms he’d occupied twenty-some years ago. Probably, knowing the man. He made his way to the small rear door once more and turned left inside along one of the marble corridors whose windows looked out over pleasant greenery. At the end, a spiral staircase led up through both floors and down into the cellars. He climbed the steps, formulating in his mind a greeting for the leader of the island’s community and at the top made his way to the suite at the end of the corridor. The door was ajar and he could hear raised voices within. He paused before entering, listening to an argument in full swing inside. Two doctors disagreeing about treatments. Although he had precious little understanding of the detail of their conversation, one thing shone out clear: Velutio’s doctor was advising some safe slow course of action that would result in no harm to the minister but would leave him permanently blind in one eye. The island’s doctor was advocating some radical treatment that sounded very visceral to Sabian that might save the eye, but could put the man’s life in danger. He grunted. Not a conversation he felt inclined to stand in the middle of. Taking a deep breath again, he pushed the door open. It took a few moments for the two red-faced doctors to notice him and the argument stopped suddenly.

  “Good afternoon, gentlemen” Sabian greeted them. “If I may, I would like to see your patient if he’s conscious.”

  The island’s doctor, ‘Favio’ the commander s
eemed to remember, cleared his throat. “He’s conscious but resting in the next room.” He then turned and glared at the other doctor, who returned the look.

  Sabian’s patience was rapidly wearing thin. He stood for a moment until they both looked back at him. He gestured angrily with his thumb and the two filed over to the door. Once they were standing before him he spoke, his tone a low menacing whisper. “Don’t you think you should be discussing things like this out of earshot of your patient? He’s half-blind, not deaf!” The two doctors looked at each other sheepishly and Velutio’s physician nodded. Sabian stepped to one side while the two doctors filed out into the corridor. He waited until they’d exited and slammed the door early, hard enough to hit one of them in the back.

  He sighed and made his way to the bedroom door, which was shut. This room was less than opulent and mirrored the personality of its occupant perfectly. Functional would be Sabian’s description. He drew a long breath and rapped lightly on the door.

  “Yes?”

  Turning the handle, Sabian wasn’t sure what he’d expected from the inner sanctum of the island’s leader, but this certainly wasn’t it. The room was well-appointed but bore more of a resemblance to a shrine or a storage room than a chamber. Busts of the Emperors and great men lined one wall on innumerable shelves. The wall behind the bed was decorated with a fine mosaic map of the Empire at its height. A third wall bore more shelves containing numerous artworks of the highest quality, all of which had presumably been removed from places on the island and brought here to preserve them. The floor bore a huge mosaic of a raven surrounded by the incarnations of the old Provinces and the final wall contained three huge windows that lit the room. The only furniture inside were the bed, a small writing desk covered with documents, a chair and two altars, one to the protective spirits of the household and the other to the Imperial cult. In the midst of this veritable museum lay Sarios, half his head bandaged, propped up on pillows and cushions. The minister managed a weak smile as he recognised his visitor.

  “Commander. It’s good to see you. I hear good things about your command of the island.”

  Sabian shrugged. “I’m glad you’re looking better now. As for ‘good things’, I’m not so sure about that. I just don’t like to see needless cruelty.” He smiled. “Actually, I’m just embarking on a few projects around the island. I don’t like my men to get lazy.”

  Sarios smiled again and tried to pull himself a little more upright on the pillows. Sabian rushed to the bedside and helped the old man pull himself up. Sarios gratefully relaxed in a better position and then looked up at the commander with his good eye. “Thank you. I feel so useless, but it’s a terrible thing when you get old and feeble. He only hit me twice, but I feel like I’ve spent a day in the arena entertaining the crowd.” Again the smile. Sabian couldn’t help but admire the man.

  “I just really dropped in to see how you were and how they were treating you. I take it you were listening to the two idiots outside your door?”

  Sarios nodded. “It’s hard to avoid it when all there is to do is to lie here.” He beckoned to the commander with his finger. “Actually, I’d like to ask you a favour.” Sabian nodded, silent, and the minister continued. “I want our own doctor to deal with me. I know it’s a risk, but he really does know what he’s doing, I assure you.”

  Sabian tapped his finger on his lips. “Perhaps” he muttered. “I’m loathe to put you in any more danger though.”

  The minister nodded. “Still, I would wish it.” He glanced over at the table near the window. “I actually got up yesterday for a few minutes and strung some thoughts and ideas together. Perhaps you’d be good enough to take that top sheet and see the council of elders with it?”

  Sabian nodded again. “I’d be happy to. Unless you need me for anything though, I’d better get on. There’s a lot to do” he added. Sarios nodded gently. “I’d better sleep anyway. That’s one of the few things both doctors can agree on.”

  Without another word, the commander bowed and retrieved the top sheet of paper from the table. Glancing at it briefly on the way out, he noted a list of things that needed to be done, including a priority list for the upcoming vegetable harvest. He smiled. Great minds, eh? As he left, he made sure the chamber door was shut tight and opened the outer door to leave the apartment. The island’s doctor stood in the corridor still and he turned with a start as Sabian appeared.

  “Ah, commander” the doctor said. “Darius was by here and wants you to go see him when you’re free. He said you’d know where.”

  Sabian nodded. “I think I know. By the way, I’m inclined along with the minister to ask you to deal with his treatment your way. If you see Velutio’s doctor, please tell him to find me tonight. I would warn you though that I will be very unhappy if anything untoward happens to Sarios, so make sure your treatment works.” To add weight to his words the commander had bunched one hand into a fist and was rubbing the knuckles with his other hand as he spoke. The doctor nodded solemnly with no trace of fear. “I’ll do my best,” he replied.

  Sabian fixed him eye to eye for a long moment and then stepped around him and continued on down the corridor to stop and collect something on the way.

  The ruins of the Golden House mouldered and smelled dank even in the late afternoon sun. The day was wearing on rapidly now and the sun was diminishing behind the high perimeter walls even as Sabian, once more armed and armoured, picked his way among the rubble. Turning the corner, he immediately spotted Darius seated on a timber in the centre of the octagonal room, idly twiddling a short dagger in his hand. He looked up as the commander appeared in the shattered doorway and nodded a greeting. Sabian strode into the centre and, reaching down to his belt, unhooked an extra sword from his left side. Holding the sheathed blade out to the young man, he nodded.

  “I’ve talked to the elders” he smiled, “and I want you to continue your training. In fact, I’m going to make sure you’re not interrupted by things like poetry. You can keep this with you; it’s not going back in the weapon cabinet.”

  Darius grinned lopsidedly back at him. “Thanks. Somehow it feels wrong not to have sword practice.” Sabian inwardly agreed. He felt the same himself and imagined the boy’s father was much the same. The lad unsheathed the blade and gave it a few practice swings. “This isn’t the sword I was using” he noted.

  Sabian sat on one of the fallen boulders. “No,” he replied, “this is a northern sword with a heavy hilt and a slight curvature, like the barbarian tribes to the north use. It doesn’t do to limit yourself to one blade. If you find yourself in dire straits and needing to use what’s to hand, you might not be able to wield it effectively. Plus I have to say that the northern tribes designed one of the best weighted implements of war ever created.” He smiled, patting the sheath still hanging by his side that carried a blade of very similar design.

  Darius examined the slight curve thoughtfully. “That makes sense I suppose. It’s a little heavier than the other one too, even though it’s shorter. Going to take a bit of getting used to…”

  Unhooking his own scabbard, Sabian laid his own blade across his knees. “I assume you were interested in some live practice? Is that why you asked me here?”

  The young man glanced up and turned the blade, sheathing it very professionally. Sabian once more had to acknowledge what a natural Darius was.

  “Actually I had other reasons” admitted the boy. “And I needed somewhere fairly private to talk to you. You weren’t followed, were you?”

  Sabian blinked. He’d not looked. Why on earth would he be followed? Seeing the commander’s face Darius smiled and, reaching up to part of the ruinous vaulting hauled himself up to the wall level. Though the sun was now hidden by the fortress-like walls of the palace, at that height the boy’s head was once more in bright light. He shaded his eyes and glanced around the ruin. Satisfied they were truly alone he dropped, cat-like to the floor.

  “We seem to be fine.”

  Sabian frown
ed. “I don’t think you should climb here; the masonry’s too dangerous. And I think you’d better explain all this” he added darkly.

  Taking his seat on the timber again with the blade across his knees mirroring Sabian, the boy nodded. “Don’t worry about the walls. I’ve been here all my life and I know which ones are stable. As for the other, I think you’ve got a problem.”

  “A problem?” enquired the commander, one eyebrow raised.

  Another nod from the boy. “I think some of your men may be less than trustworthy.”

  Sabian bridled. “Be careful what you say Darius, I…”

  The young man waved his hands to dismiss the words. “I don’t mean it like that. I…“ He tailed off and looked down at the floor. “I actually trust you commander.” He looked up again. “Have you any idea how difficult that is for me; for any of us here? We know you work for Velutio and that he basically owns us as though we were slaves, and yet you I can’t help but trust. Perhaps it’s the fact that you remind me so much of the military men I read about in the old days.”

  Sabian shrugged. “I try to be fair. Where are you going with this, Darius?”

  Again the boy looked a touch uncomfortable. “The day Velutio left the island I was on the roof, watching him go. I also saw you talking to your sergeant. You were quiet but I could hear, and since I was in earshot, the man in the soldier’s uniform on the wall certainly could.”

  The commander’s shrugged again.

  “What’s odd about that?” he probed. “We had guards on the walls.”

  The young man shook his head. “I don’t know who he was. I only saw his back and he was partially hidden, but definitely wearing a uniform and definitely watching you. He wasn’t on any kind of duty though, cos he didn’t have his shield or sword with him. Trust me. I know when someone’s doing something they shouldn’t. They move and act in a certain way. Anyway, that’s only part of it.”