by Tony Roberts
Kerrin was praised for his protection of Argan, and Astiras came down in person to speak to his son. He also got a good look at Amal, and reckoned she wasn’t far off adulthood. She was growing fast into a woman. There again, Argan was becoming a man, and his attitude was becoming more confident, more so now he had been in battle. Astiras reckoned the two were good for one another, and secretly hoped she would soon reach adulthood and give his son another important lesson in growing up.
He left for Zofela, but by the time he got back, ploughing through the drifts of a typical deep Bragal winter, Isbel had left for Kastan city.
Amne had given birth to a son. More causes for a celebration. The boy was named Kontas. Isbel sent a messenger on ahead with a summons for Evas Extonos to attend her in Kastan City, and the orders went to Vosgaris too to make sure the governor came, in chains if he resisted.
Vosgaris got the order and read it with satisfaction. He burst into the governor’s office and stood there as he allowed Extonos to read his own orders. Evas looked up. “It seems I am to be sent to the empress in Kastan City.” He allowed the order to fall to his desk surface. “And you, Commander? Do you have a summons too?”
“Yes, Governor. And, unlike you, I am fully intending to comply.”
Extonos stared at Vosgaris. “And what makes you think I will refuse this summons?”
“Because you refused the first. You pleaded that as I was spreading revolt in Niake through my actions, your presence was needed here. You cannot hide behind that pathetic excuse this time. So what will you use now to excuse yourself?”
“I don’t like your attitude, Commander. In fact, I have already determined that the emperor summoned me to Zofela in the first place, so I shall reply that I will travel to Zofela as per my original summons, but only when the snows have cleared and when the situation here had calmed down.”
“There is no situation to calm down you whining excuse of a Governor. You are to accompany me to Kastan City today. I too, have my orders and they include dragging you in chains to Kastan City if you refuse the empress’ command.”
“You will not!” Evas stood up in outrage. “This has gone too far. I do not believe your orders – they are a lie.” He gestured to two men who had in recent days been added to his inner retinue, two mercenaries from the borderlands looking for employment. They looked tough and capable of looking after themselves. “If this man makes a move towards me, you know what to do, gentlemen.”
Vosgaris turned and surveyed the two. Both were unkempt, big, tough-looking, and sported an array of accoutrements normal to men who scavenged or bought the odd item from market places. They were swords-for-hire, who served whoever their latest paymaster was without qualms. His eyes went to their weapons, the only clean and shiny items on them. Knives, swords, axes. He looked up into their eyes and saw no pity or compassion there.
He turned back to face the governor. “Need someone to hold your hand, eh? Scared of the big bad commander?”
Evas scowled, his courage clearly bolstered by the presence of the two mercenaries. “Now get out of my office before I get these two to throw you out of the window. I believe that’s your favourite way of settling an argument?”
Vosgaris smiled, a chilling expression that stopped Evas from saying anything more. “The problem, Governor, is that you hire useless broken down failures like these two. They couldn’t beat a ten year old.”
The two mercs clenched their fists and stepped forward. Evas gestured at the commander. “Get rid of this disrespectful canine.”
Vosgaris grabbed the hilt of his sword and was already turning, bending his knees and sinking down as the first came at him, the merc’s main sword halfway out of its sheath. Vosgaris reached the lowest point of his turn and began to rise, his sword out of its scabbard and following his spin, rising up under the arm of the first man and slicing deep into his ribs, cutting through bone, cartilage and organs. It exploded out of the other side of his ribcage in a shower of blood.
The second tore two weapons out of their housing and came at the commander, carnage in his mind. The sword plunged down but Vosgaris was rolling aside across the rug. The sword blade bit into Evas’ desk, sending chips flying up. As the commander got to his feet, the ruined first merc struck the floor, his eyes wide in shock, pain and death.
The remaining merc knew he had to act fast or he was just as dead. His dagger and sword whirled, his arms weaving up and down, the blades blurs in the air. Vosgaris slashed hard, the steel smashing into the merc’s sword. The blades locked. The dagger of the merc scythed towards Vosgaris’ guts in an upwards blow, but it was held fast, the point a mere handspan’s width away, by Vosgaris’ free hand.
The two men trembled together, straining at each other. They locked eyes, neither prepared to look away. Determination and intent met one another. Vosgaris leaned right, then left, turning. The merc went over his left hip and crashed into a delicate three-legged table, smashing it to pieces.
Evas and his advisor remained still, shocked at the brutality being unleashed before them.
Getting up the merc growled and came at Vosgaris, sword blurring, dagger thrusting. Vosgaris retreated across the room, knocking aside the sword every time it came close to him. Then suddenly both had daggers in their hands and both struck hard.
The merc’s sword hack was intended to cut through the commander’s neck but it was slapped aside by Vosgaris’ sword. The merc though had anticipated this and his dagger swept in from the left, aimed at Vosgaris’ ribs. The commander bent and twisted back, his own dagger swinging back behind him. As the point of his enemy’s dagger scored across his ribs in a painful burning path, Vosgaris sent his own blade up into the man’s stomach. Not looking to see if the man would survive or not, his sword came back in a return and slashed down from the junction of the neck and shoulder, going across the chest and ending at the left hip.
Vosgaris stepped away, wiping his sword even as the merc sank to his knees. As the man crashed face-first into the ground, the commander came up to Evas, his dagger still glistening. “Now you disrespectful turd, you will come with me to Kastan City, even if I have to put you on a leash!”
The governor’s mouth worked soundlessly. Vosgaris grabbed him by the throat, dragging him over his desk and across the rug, over the corpse of the first man. “I care not, Governor, if everyone sees you being dragged like this. Up to you. On your feet, now!”
Evas stumbled to his feet, gibbering in fear. Vosgaris slapped him to shut him up. He pointed to the two dead men, and then at the advisor. “Clear this mess up. I want a clean office when I get back.”
Evas was pushed out of the room, Vosgaris snapping at him to get a move on. His hand went to his ribs and came away sticky with blood. He grimaced. “Who is your best healer?”
Evas stared at the rip in the commander’s tunic and the red stain spreading across it. “Ah, Cherisse. Quite competent. Is it serious?”
“Unfortunately for you, no. It stings, that’s all. I want this cleaned up before we go. I’ll survive, so don’t get all hopeful. You’re in deep trouble, so behave or I might just drop you off the ship halfway across the channel.”
Cherisse was as Evas said, quite adept, and bound his wound after cleaning it. Vosgaris looked at her; brunette, slim but shapely. He guessed she was in her mid twenties. She had a plain face but quite intense blue eyes that spoke of intelligence and humour. Vosgaris sat silently while she treated him, Evas guarded by two of the commander’s men in the background. Finally she finished, dropping the last of the bloodied swabs into the bowl of cold water. “There you go, Commander, you should be fine now.”
“Thank you Cherisse. You’re quite good. You’ll have to tell me how you came to be a healer.”
“Yes, sir; that would be nice.”
They smiled at one another and Vosgaris heaved himself up, wincing at the biting ache that shot through him briefly. “I shall return in a few days. I’ll send for you.” He gave her a look that told her in
no uncertain terms he was expecting more than just talk. She looked down demurely.
The crossing was uneventful, if rough. The seas were racing ahead of a stiff icy wind and the passengers stayed off the deck. Evas was marched through the streets with Vosgaris leading and the two guards close to the disgraced governor, one holding him by the arm. In their wake came both Demtro and Clora, hand-in-hand, there thanks to Vosgaris keeping his promise to the woman.
The palace had an air of menace to Extonos and he trembled as he passed into its depths. Demtro and Clora were shown up the stairs by a servant to the room reserved for them. Meanwhile Vosgaris met Lalaas in the imperial ante chamber. They embraced and then Vosgaris indicated Evas. “The empress so wishes to see this individual.”
“So I understand. She is waiting. Follow me.” He led the group along a long corridor. Guards watched as they passed, Evas’ heart sinking lower and lower. He half listened to the conversation between the two officers. “Amne is doing very well; Elas is pleased as a feline with cream that they have a son. I think he finally has all he wants. Its amazing the reaction he had, you know. Practically worships his wife now.”
“Makes three of us then,” Vosgaris smiled.
Lalaas nodded and lightly punched his friend on the arm. “So what happened to you? Want to talk about it?” Lalaas pointed at the half-hearted repair to his tunic and the bloodstains marking the edges.
“I’ll tell you later after we deal with him.” The way the commander spoke gave Evas little comfort.
The audience chamber was another cold, foreboding room, and Evas was manhandled forward by the two guards and thrown face down before Isbel, Vosgaris standing over him to one side. Vosgaris bowed deeply and received permission to stand easy. He looked at her and they exchanged a deep meaningful look before she looked down at Evas, grovelling at the bottom step. “You miserable man; you were given responsibility by us. You were given position and respect. You were given every opportunity to be a man of substance, respect and part of the return to Kastanian greatness, but you have thrown all that away. What have you to say for yourself?”
“Your highness,” his voice was muffled by the lowest step. “I have always worked hard to carry out your wishes, but it was the efforts of those around me who prevented me from carrying them out!”
“One of whom I understand, if your latest message is to be believed, is the man standing next to you. Commander Vosgaris, have you thwarted my commands at any time?”
Vosgaris stood straight and looked Isbel in the eye. “No ma’am, I have always carried out you wishes, and would continue to do so, whatever you ask of me.” He gave her a meaningful look and Isbel’s lips twitched momentarily.
She then looked down at the miserable man before her. “Ex-Governor Extonos, you are henceforth stripped of your position and all powers. Your lies and deceit will no longer hide your disobedience from us. Under your misrule Niake has become the one place in all Kastania where thieves and brigands feel safe, where criminals enjoy protection. You will remain here under guard until the emperor decides what to do with you. In the meantime, Commander Vosgaris, you are to temporarily assume the role of Governor of Niake and Bathenia. You are to clear Niake of the nest of slitherers that the ex-governor has permitted to flourish there.”
“I shall do so ma’am.”
Later, Vosgaris was led by Lalaas to Amne’s chamber. The new prince, Kontas, was asleep, being rocked gently by Amne’s handmaiden. Amne herself was in good form and pleased to see Vosgaris. She stood and embraced him. Then she stepped back and rubbed her stomach. “Yes, I know,” she said with a sigh, “this will have to come off. One consequence of pregnancy. You men don’t know how lucky you are.”
“Very lucky to be in your presence, ma’am,” Vosgaris bowed with a wide smile.
“Oh, stop that! Your smooth talking impresses me no end!” Amne chuckled. “Now stop it or I’ll be sick. I see you’ve been in the wars – again. Becoming a habit, isn’t it?”
Vosgaris brought both up to date. Then he nodded over to the sleeping child. “Congratulations anyway, ma’am. I hear your husband is beside himself with joy.”
“Yes, a son is what he always wanted,” she replied. “The family name continuing and all that, blah blah blah,” she waved a careless hand. “I only care that the child is healthy and safe, whether it be a girl or boy. Well, Elas and I are enjoying our best ever relationship. I feel happy and settled and so want to lose weight!” she ended in a loud voice. “I’m going to exercise every day. Mother has told me what she does and I’m jealous of her for the first time I can recall. Agh!”
Lalaas squeezed her hand. “I’ll help. I’ll get an exercise regimen worked out and I can promise you’ll sweat like the best of my new recruits.”
“Oh?” Amne curved her neck coyly. “Going to give me orders, are you?”
“If you like,” Lalaas said with a straight face. He raised one eyebrow and Amne slapped his upper arm.
Vosgaris chuckled. “After all our trials and discomforts, I think things are looking up for all of us. I’m finally finding some peace in my heart, too.”
“That’s so good to hear, Vos. I was so worried about you, wasn’t I, Lalaas?”
The palace guard captain nodded. “Bent my ear every day for news of you.”
“Well, I care very much for him, as you know,” Amne mouthed a kiss at the commander.
Vosgaris leaned forward. “I want us all to keep in contact with each other, no matter what happens or where we go. I don’t want to lose your friendships.”
They all put their hands together and promised.
Vosgaris went to see Isbel. The empress had spent some time with Demtro and an overawed Clora, and was grateful for the relative calm. She dismissed her handmaidens and stood, the commander a mere pace from her. “I wanted to see you in person, alone,” she said. “You do know don’t you, that we cannot – carry on – with our relationship. I have to remain with Astiras. I feel very guilty about what happened. I don’t regret it, don’t misunderstand me, Vos, it was wonderful, and I want you. But please understand, I must remain with him.”
Vosgaris nodded heavily. “Yes ma’am, Isbel,” he added quickly seeing she was going to correct him. “Know though that I shall always be your willing servant. I will wait for you, but in the meantime there’s this little cute individual that has caught my eye over in Niake.”
“Oh?” Isbel smiled. She felt both disappointment and relief. She told herself it was for the best, which she knew was the right thing. “Anyone I know?”
Vosgaris shook his head. “A healer. She can help heal me when I get back later,” he grinned rakishly. “I promised to see her on my return and she’s accepted.”
“Well I hope it goes well for you, Vos. Don’t forget your new responsibilities, though, I am putting my faith in you.”
Vosgaris nodded. “I won’t let you down.” He took her by the upper arms. “As a last token of my affection, ma’am,” he leaned forward and kissed her deeply, longingly, lovingly. Isbel sighed and slid her arms round him and floated in a world of pure exhilaration, before they broke apart.
She took a couple of deep breaths. “I shall take that as a given,” she said finally, looking up. “You can say so much in words, but nothing says so much as something like that.”
Vosgaris bowed, a smile on his face. “I understand you’ve made Amne jealous; she wants a figure like yours.”
“Oh?” she looked at herself. “It’s a losing battle, I can tell you! Anyway, what is she moaning about? She’s got a fantastic figure!”
“Uh, she doesn’t like the extra padding around her tummy.”
“Oh, goodness, isn’t she ever satisfied?”
“No she isn’t,” Vosgaris chuckled. “And I love her for however she is. Go show her how you keep your body in such fantastic shape – she’ll appreciate it I know.”
“Not in the same way as you do, Vos,” Isbel said with a wicked smile. “But yes, I will; I have found
a new friendship with her, and she’s such a different person these days. I much prefer her the way she is now.”
“She’s not that much changed – perhaps a little more mature and capable of seeing sense over emotion, but she is still the Amne we love.”
Isbel nodded. “I will keep writing. You will have to write plenty you know, and don’t forget, Demtro is in my pocket.”
“And I’m in your heart,” Vosgaris grinned. “As you are in mine.”
Isbel pushed him towards the door. “I know, now be gone, you rogue.”
Vosgaris spent another day at the palace, enjoying the company of people he had known for a long time and had come to love, then returned with Demtro and Clora to Niake and his new responsibility. He sighed as the Bathenian shore approached. Maybe Charisse could ease the pain of being away from Isbel. He could only try and find out the best way possible. He nodded to himself, a smile playing over his lips. It would certainly be an enjoyable way to discover that.
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Metila straightened from the softly moaning Amal. “She’s not far off her Time, Lakhani. You must be prepared.”
Argan looked at the sweating figure of his friend. He felt apprehensive, scared, even. He looked at the diminutive Bragalese witch. “What must I do? Are you going to help?”
Metila stepped up to him and looked him over very carefully. Argan was aware of strange scents coming from Amal, and saw that her skin, too, was glistening. Sweat? Something else? Something different coated her, an atmosphere of the unknown – an aura of excitement and things he had no knowledge of. “You will need to have strength, and courage. She will be like a wild animal, nothing like the girl you have known. Remember what I have told you before.”
His heart skipped a beat and the apprehension increased. He stole another look at the girl, weakly moving on the bed. She was sweating profusely now, he could see. The small cloth items covering her were stuck to her body, giving them a transparent look. He could see her breasts through them, and that secret part in between her legs. “Will she be in pain?”