«I'm afraid you're right, your Majesty,» Isokasios said. «By Phos, I shall put a stop to that before it starts.» Maniakes shouted for a scribe, saying, «I'd write this myself, but I don't want whoever he has reading Videssian for him puzzling over my scrawl.» When the secretary arrived, the Avtokrator told him, «Take my words down exactly: 'Maniakes son of Maniakes to Abivard son of Godarz of Makuran: Greetings. Know that, should any Videssian soldier taken by your army within the bounds of the Videssian Empire at the time of the death of Likinios Avtokrator be slain as spies, any Makuraner soldiers captured by Videssos within those same bounds shall likewise be slain as brigands. My actions in this regard shall conform to those shown by you and your men.' « He made a slashing gesture to show he was finished. «Make a fair copy of that if the one you have there isn't, then bring it to me for my signature and seal.»
«Yes, your Majesty.» The scribe hurried away.
To Isokasios, Maniakes said, «When he comes back with that, you take it straight to Abivard. No secrecy this time. I want the Makuraners to know exactly what kind of trouble they're playing with and what we think about it.»
«Aye, your Majesty,» the messenger replied. Moments later, the scribe returned. Maniakes set down his name on the fair copy in the crimson ink reserved for the Avtokrator alone. He stamped his sunburst signet into hot wax, handed the message to Isokasios, and sent him off once more.
The messenger came back to Videssos the city at sunset with a written message from Abivard. When Maniakes broke the seal, he grunted in surprise. «It's in the Makuraner tongue. He doesn't usually do that.» He clicked his tongue between his teeth. «I wonder if this is something he couldn't trust to a Videssian-speaking scribe. If it is, it might be interesting.»
Since he did not read Makuraner himself, he summoned Philetos the healer-priest, who did. When the blue-robe arrived, Maniakes gave him the square of parchment. Philetos read through it once, his lips moving, then translated it: « 'Abivard son of Godarz, servant to Sharbaraz King of Kings of Makuran, good, pacific, beneficent—'»
«You can skip the titles,» Maniakes said dryly. «As you say, your Majesty. I resume: 'to Maniakes son of Maniakes: Greetings.' «
Before he could go on, Maniakes interrupted again: «He still won't admit I'm the legitimate Avtokrator, but at least he isn't calling me a usurper anymore.» Sharbaraz maintained a puppet who pretended to be Likinios' eldest son, Hosios. Having seen the true Hosios' head, Maniakes knew Genesios had liquidated him along with the rest of Likinios' clan. The Avtokrator added, «Come to think of it, the Makuraners don't have the false Hosios along with them. I wonder if he's still alive.»
«An interesting question, I am certain,» Philetos said, «but would you not like to hear that which you summoned me to read?» Having regained Maniakes' attention, he went on, « 'The policy you question was instituted at the command of Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his years be many and his realm increase. I shall not put it into effect until after I have sent your response to the King of Kings for his judgment thereon.' «
Maniakes scowled in reluctant admiration. «I'd hoped for more,» he said at last. «All he's saying is, 'This isn't my fault, and maybe I'll be able to get it changed. Meanwhile, don't worry about it.'»
«I should have thought that was exactly what you wanted to hear, your Majesty,» Philetos said.
«No.» The Avtokrator shook his head. «This gives me nothing I can grab, nothing I can use to separate Abivard from Sharbaraz. He's obeying the King of Kings and referring the question back to him. That's not what I need. I'd rather have him tell me Sharbaraz is flat-out wrong. Then I could either use that to detach him from the King of Kings or else send it on to Sharbaraz and detach him from Abivard.»
«Ah. Now I understand more fully, your Majesty,» the healer-priest said. «But if the brute fact of Abivard's failure to capture Videssos the city will not cost him the favor of the King of Kings, why should anything smaller have that effect?»
«I'd hoped for this failure to cost him that favor,» Maniakes said, pronouncing the words with care; he wouldn't have liked to try it after a couple of cups of wine. «Since it doesn't seem to have done the job, I'm not too proud to try tossing pebbles onto the big boulder, in the hope that they'll tip the scale where it didn't. But Abivard didn't hand me any pebbles.»
«Compose yourself in patience.» Philetos sounded more like a priest than he usually did. «These things take time.»
«Yes, holy sir,» Maniakes said dutifully. On the one hand, he'd been patient throughout his entire reign—a necessity during much of it, when he was either desperately weak, beset on two fronts, or both. On the other hand, when he had seen chances to act, he'd often moved too soon, so perhaps he still needed instruction on the art of waiting.
«Will there be anything more, your Majesty?» Philetos asked.
«No. Thank you, holy sir,» Maniakes answered. The healer-priest departed, leaving Abivard's letter behind. Maniakes stared in frustration at the document he could not read unaided. He consoled himself by remembering Abivard had written it himself, in the Makuraner script, so as not to have to reveal its contents to anyone else. That was something. It was not enough.
Philetos proved a fairly frequent visitor at the imperial residence over the next few weeks. The Videssian raiders who prowled the westlands had not the numbers to take on Makuraner armies. They observed and used shipborne messages to report back to Maniakes. They were, in fact, a good deal like spies if not the veritable beasts, a point on which the Avtokrator chose not to dwell.
They also made a habit of ambushing Makuraner couriers whenever they could. That always had the potential of being useful, as it had in the Land of the Thousand Cities. A lot of the messages they captured and sent back to Videssos the city were in the Makuraner tongue. The healer-priest had no trouble making sense of them.
Most, unfortunately, were not worth having, once captured. «Your Majesty, how do you profit by learning the garrison commander at Aptos has asked the garrison commander of Vryetion for the loan of some hay?» Philetos asked after translating a captured dispatch wherein the commander at Aptos had done just that.
«I could make a fancy speech about how learning that any one Makuraner garrison is low on supplies might be important,» Maniakes replied. «I won't bother. The plain truth is, it doesn't do me any good I can see. They can't all be gems. When you're rolling dice, you don't get Phos' little suns—» Double ones counted as the winning throw in the Videssian game. «—every time out. But you never know what you'll get till you do throw the dice.»
«I suppose so, your Majesty.» Philetos sounded obedient but less than delighted. Whenever new messages from the westlands came into Videssos the city, he was called away from his sorcerous researches to translate them. «I might wish the Makuraners had the courtesy to write in Videssian.»
«It would make our lives easier, wouldn't it?» Maniakes grinned at the healer-priest. «It would certainly make your life easier.»
Every few days, one ship or another would bring in a dispatch or a handful of dispatches from out of the westlands. The hill country in the southeastern part of the peninsula had never been so firmly in Makuraner hands as the rest: it lay well away from the line of march toward Videssos the city. Makuraner commanders in the area were always howling about Videssian harassment and complaining to Abivard or to one another that they needed more men if they were not to be overwhelmed.
In the northern part of the westlands, Videssian land forces were weaker, but the fleet, now that pressure on the imperial city had eased, could swoop down and seize a port whenever it liked. The captured messages that came back to Videssos the city from that area were mostly warnings for Makuraner officers to remain ever alert and, again, unending and apparently unanswered pleas for reinforcements.
Studying Philetos' translations, the elder Maniakes said, «They haven't got enough men to do everything they have to do, not if they keep their field army at Across.»
«True, but if th
ey split up, they'll have a hard time putting it back together again,» the Avtokrator said.
«The more I look at their position, the more I like ours,» his father remarked. «They're sinking a little at a time, and the only way they can plug one hole is to let another one leak.»
«And we've convinced them they don't dare bring any more troops forward out of the Land of the Thousand Cities,» Maniakes said. «If they try that, we will end up taking Mashiz, the way we could have this past campaigning season if Sharbaraz hadn't had his cursed clever idea.»
«Too late in the year to send the fleet out now, even if your omens hadn't all been bad,» the elder Maniakes said. «But there's next year, and the year after that if need be. The Kubratoi will leave us alone for a while. We can concentrate against Makuran.»
«Sooner or later, though, we'll have to go up against the Makuraner field army,» Maniakes said. «That's a lot of boiler boys to take on at once.»
«Maybe you can split them up so you won't have to,» his father answered. «And maybe you'll just beat them. Videssian armies can beat them, you know. If that weren't so, Makuran would have owned the westlands for hundreds of years by now.»
«I understand that,» Maniakes said. «But still—»
Throughout Genesios' unhappy reign, and throughout the opening years of his own, the Makuraners had regularly routed all the forces Videssos threw against them. The Makuraners had become convinced they could do it whenever they pleased—and so had the Videssians. Back in the Land of the Thousand Cities, Maniakes' troops had shown they could face the fearsome Makuraner heavy cavalry on something close to even terms. Facing the entire Makuraner field force, though, was different from facing a detachment from it. If something went wrong…
Kameas stuck his head into the chamber where the two Maniakai were talking and said, «Your Majesty, I beg pardon, but another handful of captured dispatches has just come in.»
«Thank you, esteemed sir,» Maniakes said. «Have them brought here and send someone to fetch Philetos, if you'd be so kind.»
«I have taken the liberty of doing that already,» the vestiarios said with the slightest hint of smugness.
Philetos arrived about a quarter of an hour later. After bowing to the elder Maniakes and prostrating himself before the younger, he went to work on the parchments Kameas had set on an alabaster tabletop. When he came to one of them, he stiffened and grew alert. «Your Majesty,» he said in a tightly controlled voice, «we have something of importance here. This is from Sharbaraz King of Kings to Romezan son of Bizhan.»
«Abivard's second-in-command,» Maniakes breathed. «You're right, holy sir; that is important. What does it say?»
Philetos read through the parchment. When he looked up again, his eyes were wide and wondering. He said, «The gist is, Sharbaraz blames Abivard for failing to capture Videssos the city. This letter orders Romezan to take Abivard's head, send it back to Mashiz, and assume command of the field army himself.»
VIII
Maniakes, his father, and Philetos stared at one another. The Avtokrator said, «I never imagined having anything so big fall into my lap. It's almost too big. How do we use it to best advantage?»
In a dry voice, the elder Maniakes said, «We've been looking for something that would pry Abivard loose from Sharbaraz. If an execution order won't do it, to the ice with me if I know what will.»
Philetos said, «Might it not be best to refrain from interfering? The natural course of events, so to speak, would then remove Abivard from matters concerning us.»
«And put Romezan in his place.» Maniakes shook his head. «I've fought against Romezan. He's very good, and the soldiers like him. The Makuraners would be as dangerous with him in command as they are now.»
«That's so,» the elder Maniakes agreed. «By what I've seen, this Romezan is as nasty as Abivard commanding troops in battle, maybe worse, because he presses harder. Abivard is better at seeing past the nose on his face, though.»
«Every word of that is true, Father, and it tells me what we need to do,» Maniakes said. «If Abivard gone hurts Makuran only a little, what we have to have is Abivard angry at Sharbaraz.»
«Like I say, showing him that letter ought to do the trick,» the elder Maniakes rumbled.
«Just what I intend to do,» the Avtokrator said. «I'll invite him into Videssos the city on the pretext of discussing a truce between his troops and mine. When he's in here—out comes the parchment.»
«Will he not fear to come into Videssos the city?» Philetos said, being worried lest you treat him as in fact his own sovereign intends to do?»
«I think he'll come,» Maniakes said. «No matter what Sharbaraz has done, Abivard and I have fought hard but fair: no treachery on either side I can think of. And he must know we know how good Romezan is, and how little we'd gain by murdering him.»
Philetos, still looking shaken at the magnitude of what he'd discovered, sketched Phos' sun-circle above his heart. «The good god grant that it prove as you desire.»
A shield of truce at her bow, the Renewal bobbed in the chop within hailing distance of the beach at Across. Before long, a Makuraner soldier came forward and hailed the dromon in accented Videssian: «Who are you, and what do you want?»
Maniakes, gorgeous in full imperial raiment, stepped forward to show himself to the Makuraner. «I am Maniakes son of Maniakes, Avtokrator of the Videssians. I would speak with Abivard son of Godarz, your commander here. I want to invite him into Videssos the city, that we may confer on ways to end the war between us.»
The Makuraner stared at him. «How do I know you're really Maniakes, not just some guy in a fancy suit?»
«Sharbaraz is the one who keeps imposters around his court– all the false Hosioi he's trotted out, for instance,» Maniakes answered tartly. «Will you take my words to your commander? Tell him I promise his safety in the city and his free and safe return here the instant he requests it from me. Tell him also that I will give hostages if he doubts my word.»
«I'll tell him,» the Makuraner said, «or tell someone who'll tell him, anyhow.» He hurried away.
Aboard the Renewal, Thrax breathed a sigh of relief. So did the shieldmen who had been poised to spring in front of Maniakes at the first sign of danger: a ship within hailing distance of the shore was also within easy arrow range. Abivard did not seem prone to murder even if it might help his cause, but what of his soldiers?
More and more of those soldiers came to stare at the dromon. At Thrax's order, the crew of the Renewal had a dart in the catapult at the bow. They'd done good work before, against Makuraners straying too close to the edge of the sea. Now, like Maniakes, they waited before moving.
Waiting ended when Abivard came riding up, sand spurting out from under the hooves of his horse. He swung down from the big, broad-shouldered animal—well suited for carrying a man in full armor, though the marshal wore a Makuraner caftan now—and peered out toward the Renewal. When he spied the imperial raiment, he called, «If you are the true Maniakes, what is my wife named?» He spoke in Makuraner so his men could understand.
«Her name is Roshnani,» Maniakes replied in the same tongue. He knew he was mispronouncing the name, as he habitually did with Sharbaraz's: Videssian tongues would not wrap themselves around the sh sound.
«You are yourself, or else well coached,» Abivard said. After a moment, he went on, «You are yourself; I know your voice, and your look. We've met often enough for that, over the years. What would you?»
«What I told your man.» Of necessity, Maniakes kept his Makuraner simple. «I invite you to come to Videssos the city. I will give hostages, if you want hostages. What I want is to end the war between Makuran and Videssos. I think I see a way to do that.»
«Tell me here and now.» Abivard spoke more simply, responding to Maniakes' rusty use of his language.
«I have something you must see. It is in the city.» Maniakes waved back over the Cattle Crossing to the imperial capital, the city Abivard had been unable to enter by force
of arms. «Will you come?»
«I will come,» Abivard declared. «Shall I swim to your ship, or will you send a boat?» He made as if to pull the caftan off over his head, as if expecting to have to swim.
«Get a boat in the water,» Maniakes hissed to Thrax, who relayed the command to the sailors. To Abivard, Maniakes spoke in some surprise: «No hostages, marshal of Makuran? I will give them.»
«No hostages.» Abivard laughed. «If you make away with me, you have to deal with Romezan. I do not think you want the wild boar of Makuran rampaging through what you call the westlands.» Maniakes waved to him across the strip of water between them, a gesture of respect: he and Abivard had made the identical calculation.
The boat grated up onto the beach. Abivard, after a few words to his men, got into it. One of the sailors pushed it back into the sea. The men rowed to the Renewal with remarkable celerity, as if delighted to get away from all the Makuraners by the seaside.
Maniakes did not blame them for that. He helped them and the man they had come to fetch clamber back up into the Renewal.
Maniakes studied the Makuraner marshal. Abivard was not far from his own age, perhaps a few years younger, with a long, thoughtful face, bushy eyebrows and liquid dark eyes, a nose straighter than Maniakes' but hardly less formidable, and a black beard into which the first strands of silver were working. Bowing to Maniakes, he said, «I would have treated the city differently if I had come into it without an invitation.» He spoke Videssian now, using it more fluently than Maniakes did Makuraner.
The Avtokrator shrugged. «And the city would have treated you differently, too.»
«That is also probably true,» Abivard replied with an easy insouciance Maniakes had to admire. «But since I am not entering Videssos the city as a conqueror, why exactly am I entering it?»
«I can tell you that, if you like,» Maniakes said. «I'd sooner show you, though. Can you wait? It's not far.» He gestured over the water of the Cattle Crossing toward the imperial city, now visibly closer than it had been from the shore of the strait. He had not brought Sharbaraz's letter with him, lest a chance wave splash up over it and blur the evidence he needed to persuade Abivard.
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