«I thought you'd like it,» Rhegorios said. Now both men laughed. Rhegorios went on, «If you've got a better idea, I'd like to hear it.»
«What I'd like to do,» Maniakes said, «is play a trick on them like the one my father used against Smerdis' men when we were fighting alongside Sharbaraz. My father made a big, fancy, obvious move to cross a waterway—pinned the enemy's attention to it nice as you please. Then he put a force across downstream from his feint, just far enough that nobody noticed them till they were too well established to be checked.»
«That sounds good,» Rhegorios agreed. «How do we bring it off?»
«We're short of rafts, and this country doesn't have enough trees to make building them easy,» Maniakes said. «Maybe we can try using the hide boats the locals make.»
«You mean the round ones that look like soup bowls?» Rhegorios rolled his eyes. «To the ice with me if I'd be happy getting into one of those. I can't see how the people who use them keep them from spinning round and round and round. Or were you talking about the rafts that float on top of blown-up hides so they'll carry more? If those are the kinds of ideas the Makuraners get when they think of boats, it's no wonder they never tried coming over the Cattle Crossing.»
«The locals aren't Makuraners,» Maniakes reminded him. «And take a look around, cousin of mine. They do what they can with what they have: not much wood, not much of anything but mud. You can't make a boat out of mud, but you can raise beasts on what grows out of the mud and then use their hides to go up and down the rivers and canals.»
«Do you really want to try putting our men into those crazy things to get to the west bank of the Tib?» Rhegorios said. «Even more to the point, do you think you can get horses into them? Men are stupid; if you order them to go and do something, they'll go and do it, even if they can see it's going to get a raft of them—» He used the term with obvious relish. «—killed. Horses, now, horses have better sense than that.»
Like his cousin, Maniakes knew horses all too often showed lamentably little sense of any sort. That, however, wasn't relevant. Rhegorios' objection was. Maniakes said, «Maybe you're right. But if you are, how do you propose getting over the river?»
«Who, me? You're the Avtokrator; you're supposed to be the one with all the answers,» Rhegorios said, which was highly annoying and true at the same time.
«One of the answers the Avtokrator is allowed to use is picking someone who knows more about a particular bit of business than he does and then listening to what he has to say,» Maniakes returned.
«If you want to talk about the business of chasing pretty girls, I know more than you do,» Rhegorios said. «If you want to talk about the business of guzzling neat wine, I know more than you do. If you want to talk about the business of leading a cavalry column, I know at least as much as you do. If you want to talk about the business of crossing a river without bridging or proper boats, neither one of us knows a bloody thing.»
«You certainly made noises as if you knew,» Maniakes said.
«If you want to talk about the business of making noises, I know more than you do,» Rhegorios said, impudent as usual.
«I know what I'll do.» Maniakes thumped himself in the forehead with the heel of the hand to show he'd been stupid. «I'd have had to do it when we got to the Tib any which way. I'll talk with Ypsilantes.»
For the first time in their conversation, he discovered he had Rhegorios' complete and ungrudging approval. «That's a good idea,» Rhegorios said. «If the chief engineer can't figure out a way to do it, it can't be done. If you want to talk about the business of having good ideas, you may know more than I do.»
Being praised for an idea as obvious as it was good did not make Maniakes feel much better; the thought that it hadn't occurred to Rhegorios, either, consoled him to some degree. He wasted no time in summoning Ypsilantes. The chief engineer was nearer his father's age than his own; he had commanded the engineering detachment accompanying the Videssian army the elder Maniakes had led in alliance with Sharbaraz and against Smerdis.
«How do we get across the river?» he repeated when Maniakes put the question to him. His handsome, fleshy features did not show much of the amusement he obviously felt. «Your Majesty, you leave that to me. Tell me when and where you want to go across and I'll take care of it for you.»
He sounded as confident as if he were discussing his faith in Phos. That made Maniakes feel better; he'd seen Ypsilantes was a man who delivered on his promises. Nonetheless, he persisted: «Tell me one way in which you might accomplish that.»
«Here's one—first one that pops into my head,» Ypsilantes said. «Suppose you want to cross somewhere near the place where a good-sized canal flows off to the northeast from the Tib—flows off behind where we already are, in other words. If we divert water from the river to the canal, what's left of the river will be easy enough to manage. Like I say, you leave all that sort of thing to me, your Majesty.»
Maniakes remembered his thoughts back in Videssos the city on how best to run affairs. Here was a man who plainly knew how to do what needed doing. «When the time comes, Ypsilantes, I will,» the Avtokrator said.
The engineer saluted, clenched right fist over his heart, then hurried off to ready what might need readying. Some officers of his ability would have had their eye on the throne. All he wanted was the chance to play with his toys. Maniakes was more than willing to give him that, and so could give him free rein as well. He wondered if Sharbaraz would have been so trusting, and had his doubts.
When the army was only a couple of days' ride from the Tib, a scout came galloping back to Maniakes. «Your Majesty,» he called, «the King of Kings has sent you an ambassador. He's on his way here now.»
«Has he?» Maniakes said, and then, a moment later, «Is he?» The scout looked confused. Maniakes knew it was his own fault. He went on, «Sharbaraz has never done that before. How can he send me an ambassador when he doesn't recognize me as rightful Avtokrator of the Videssians?»
«I don't know, your Majesty,» the scout said, which had the virtue of being an altogether honest answer.
«Go back and tell this ambassador I'll listen to him,» Maniakes said without any great warmth. The scout hurried off as fast as he had come. Maniakes watched his back. The most likely reason he could find for Sharbaraz to send him an envoy was to try to delay him so the Makuraners on the west bank of the Tib could shore up their defenses. But he couldn't refuse to see the fellow, because the likely reason might not be the true one.
The ambassador reached him less than half an hour later. The fellow rode a fine gray mare and wore a striped caftan shot through with silver threads. He was about fifty, with a full gray beard and the long face, swarthy skin, and deep-set eyes that marked the Makuraners. Bowing in the saddle, he asked in fair Videssian, «You are Maniakes son of Maniakes?»
«Yes,» Maniakes answered. «And you?»
«I am Rafsanj son of Shidjam,» the ambassador said, «and I bring you greetings from Sharbaraz son of Peroz, King of Kings, may his years be many and his realm increase, mighty, powerful, awesome to behold, a man whom the God delights to honor—»
Maniakes held up a hand. Sharbaraz bore more titles and attributes than a stray dog had ticks; Maniakes wasn't interested in having them all trotted out. «Sharbaraz hasn't been interested in treating with me before,» he remarked. «After all, he recognizes the fraud he calls Hosios son of Likinios as Avtokrator of the Videssians, not me. What has made him change his mind?» He thought he knew the answer to that: an invasion that looked like succeeding was a good way to get anyone's attention.
Rafsanj coughed delicately. «I was not bidden to treat with Avtokrator of the Videssians, but with Maniakes son of Maniakes, commander of the forces currently disturbing the realm of Makuran, who, I presume, is yourself.»
«I told you yes already,» Maniakes said, and then, to himself, «Presumption.» Sharbaraz had a good deal of gall if he thought he could keep his own puppet Avtokrator around and treat with Maniakes
at the same time. But then, any man who made a shrine where he was worshiped as a god had gall and to spare.
That he was willing to talk to Maniakes at all was a step forward. And maybe, having created the false Hosios, Sharbaraz felt he could not abandon him without losing face among his own courtiers. Rafsanj asked, «Will you hear what I have to say, Maniakes son of Maniakes?»
«Why should I?» Maniakes asked. «Why shouldn't I find some mean prison and throw you into it, the way Sharbaraz did to the eminent Triphylles, the envoy I sent to him asking for peace?»
«Because—» Rafsanj hesitated. Because he was winning then and he's not so sure now, was what went through Maniakes' mind. He never thought I'd have the chance to collect the debt he owes me. But that would have been Sharbaraz's thinking, not what was going through the mind of this Rafsanj now. The ambassador said, «Because if you imprison me, you will not hear what the King of Kings offers.»
«That's not necessarily so,» Maniakes answered, smiling. «I could hear the offer and then jail you, as Sharbaraz did with Triphylles.»
«You are pleased to jest, Maniakes son of Maniakes,» Rafsanj said. He made a good envoy; if he was nervous, he didn't let on. But he did not, would not, call Maniakes your Majesty.
«Let's find out if I am joking, shall we?» the Avtokrator said. «Give me Sharbaraz's terms and then we'll see how long you stay free. How does that sound to you?»
«Not good,» Rafsanj answered, no doubt truthfully. «Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his years be many and his realm increase, bids you give over the devastation you are working in the Land of the Thousand Cities.»
Maniakes displayed his teeth in what was not really a smile. «I'm sure he does. I wanted him to stop devastating the westlands. I was even willing to pay him to stop devastating the westlands. Did he listen to me?» That question answered itself, and suggested the next one: «Why should I listen to him?»
«He bids you bide here, that we may discuss the composition of differences between Videssos and Makuran,» Rafsanj said.
«And he will, of course, hold all his armies in place while I'm doing that,» Maniakes said.
«Of course,» Rafsanj answered. Maniakes watched him narrowly. He was good, but not quite good enough. He went on in fulsome tones: «And once agreement has been reached, will there not be rejoicing on both sides of the border? Will voices not be raised in joy and gladness?»
«The border? Which border? The one before Sharbaraz began his war against us?» Maniakes asked. Rafsanj did not answer that question; maybe Sharbaraz had not given him an answer for it. «I don't think I'm ready to talk peace quite yet, thanks,» the Avtokrator said. Strange how things had changed—a few years before, he would have fallen on such an offer with a glad cry. But not now. «I don't want to talk here, either. Tell Sharbaraz that if he still wants to discuss these things with me when I get to Mashiz, we may be able to do it there.»
«Beware lest your arrogance bring you down,» Rafsanj said. «Overweening pride has laid many a man low.»
«I'm not the one who built a statue of the God in my own image,» Maniakes retorted, raising a scowl from Sharbaraz's envoy. «I'm not the one who plans to move armies around after pledging I wouldn't, either. When is the King of Kings going to pull Abivard and his horsemen out of the sleeve of his caftan and hurl them at me? They must be around here somewhere.» He still had trouble giving credence to Bagdasares' magic.
And his probe struck a nerve, too; Rafsanj jerked, as if Maniakes had jabbed a pin into his legs. But the envoy answered, «I have no obligation to speak to you of the manner in which your doom will fall and all your hopes be swallowed by the Void.»
«And I have no obligation to stay here while Sharbaraz moves his pieces around the board,» Maniakes returned. «I have no obligation to let myself be cozened, either. Tell Sharbaraz I'll see him in Mashiz.»
«That shall never be,» Rafsanj told him.
«I know better,» Maniakes jeered. «Videssos has taken Mashiz before; we can do that. What will never happen is Makuran taking Videssos the city.»
Again, Rafsanj started. This time, he mastered himself without saying anything. He sawed at the reins, roughly pulling his horse's head around. He rode away from Maniakes faster than he had approached him.
Maniakes watched him go. He waved to his own men, calling, «Onward!» Onward they went, toward the Tib. They did not go so fast as Maniakes would have liked. The Makuraners in front of them opened canal after canal. The harvest in this part of the Land of the Thousand Cities was liable to be scanty. The Makuraners, plainly, did not care. One of their armies would have bogged down, and might have become easy meat for raiders. The Videssians did not bog down. But corduroying a road and then recovering the timber that let them do it again was slow, hard work.
Even so, they had come within a day's—a normal day's—march of the river when a courier caught up with them from behind. That was no mean feat in and of itself. Maniakes congratulated the fellow and plied him with rough, sour army wine before asking, «What brought you here through all the Makuraners? It can't be anything small, that's certain.»
«I'm the first to reach you, your Majesty?» The courier sounded dismayed but not surprised. «I'm not the first who was sent, that's certain.»
«What's toward?» Maniakes demanded, worry in his voice now.
The courier took a deep breath. «Your Majesty, the Kubratoi have swarmed down over the border, heading straight for Videssos the city. For all I know, they're sitting outside the walls by now.»
III
«Phos curse Etzilios to an eternity in Skotos' ice!» Maniakes exclaimed, spitting on the muddy ground. At the same time as he cursed the Kubrati khagan, though, he knew a grudging admiration for him. Etzilios' spies had seen the Videssians set sail fertile west. He knew, then, that the Empire's best troops were gone. And, knowing that, he had decided to take his revenge for the beating Maniakes had given him three years before.
«He's hit us hard, your Majesty,» the messenger said, confirming the thought in Maniakes' mind. «This isn't just a raid, or it doesn't look like one, anyhow. The way Etzilios was storming for the city, you'd think he aimed to take it.» He grinned to show how unlikely that was.
Maniakes grinned, too. «If that's what's in his mind, he'd better think again,» he said. «The nomads have no siege engines. He can come up to the walls. He can do all manner of horrible things outside them. But he can't break in.» That no one unwelcome could break into Videssos the city from outside had been an article of faith, and deservedly so, for centuries. «What are we doing against him?» he asked the courier. «Have we used our ships to land men behind his force?»
The man took another swig of wine, then shook his head. «Hadn't done that by the time I set out, your Majesty. Matter of fact, the Kubratoi were using those single-log boats of theirs, those monoxyla, to move their own men down the coast against us.»
«Yes, to the ice with Etzilios, all right,» Maniakes said. «He learns his lessons too bloody well.» The Avtokrator had landed troops in the rear of the Kubratoi before. Now they looked to be returning the favor.
Videssians being the sort of people they were, the courier's arrival seemed a signal for officers of all ranks to converge on Maniakes, trying to learn what news the fellow had brought. «Cheeky as sparrows, the lot of them,» Rhegorios complained after he finally made it to Maniakes' side. «Haven't they got any patience?»
«Almost as much as you,» the Avtokrator said, earning himself a glare from his first cousin. He turned to the courier. «Give his highness the Sevastos your message, the same as you gave it to me.»
«Aye, your Majesty,» the man said, and repeated himself for Rhegorios.
Rhegorios listened intently, then nodded. «Isn't that interesting?» he said when the courier was done. He raised an eyebrow and asked Maniakes, «What do you intend to do about it?»
«By the good god, not one thing,» Maniakes answered. «Having the Kubratoi overrun the countryside, even if they do it all the
way down to the walls of Videssos the city, isn't essential, because the city won't fall to them. What we're doing here is essential. If we take Mashiz, the Makuraners will have to pull troops out of the westlands to deal with that. So we'll go on doing exactly what we have been doing, and worry about Etzilios later.»
«Cousin, that is an excellent plan,» Rhegorios said. «For that matter, it's not only getting the Makuraners to commit troops from our westlands. Getting them to commit Abivard's force, wherever that is, has been hard enough.»
«If crossing the Tib won't do it, nothing will,» Maniakes predicted. He looked thoughtful. «I wonder if Abivard is hanging back on purpose, hoping we'll take out Sharbaraz and leave him a clear path to the throne. His sister is married to the King of Kings, after all, which gives him a claim of sorts.»
«My sister is married to the Avtokrator of the Videssians,» Rhegorios pointed out. «And I, I assure you, have no interest in claiming our throne.»
Maniakes nodded. As a courtier, Rhegorios had to say that. In his case, Maniakes was convinced it was true. How true it was for Abivard, though, was liable to be a different question. «From things I've heard, I don't think Sharbaraz trusts his brother-in-law as far as I trust mine.»
«Your Majesty is gracious.»
«My Majesty is stinking tired of distractions, is what my Majesty is,» Maniakes said, his scorn for his own title bringing a smile to Rhegorios' lips. «I am not going to let myself be distracted, not here, not now. I know where I need to go, I think I know how to get there from where I am, and I think I know what happens when I do. Stacked against all that, Etzilios is a small loaf of bread.»
«No doubt you're right,» Rhegorios said. «We're that close—» He held up thumb and forefinger, each almost touching the other. «—to paying back a decade of debt and more.»
«That close,» Maniakes echoed. He imitated his cousin's gesture and then, slowly and deliberately, brought thumb and forefinger together till they touched. Rhegorios smiled a hungry smile.
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