by Robert Adams
Deeply troubled by all the captain had said, Tomos did not return to his own headquarters, but rode directly up into Mehseepolis and to the onetime ducal palace. He was afforded the opportunity to release some measure of his pent-up anger on two bureaucratic types who would have—completely aware of just who and what he was—prevented him from seeing Thoheeks Mahvros without an appointment. When he thought them sufficiently terrified, he stalked past a quartet of grinning guards and sought out the chairman of Council without a guide.
He found Thoheeks Mahvros conferring with a couple of men he did not know, but clearly both civilians. "My lord," he said curtly, in a no-nonsense tone, "I'd advise you to get these two out of here and hear what I have to say privately. You'll probably regret it if you don't."
At a look from the thoheeks, the two civilians rolled up and gathered up a number of what could have been drawings or maps and bustled from the room, giving hard, hostile stares from beneath their eyebrows.
With the doors firmly shut and latched, Tomos led his friend to the corner farthest from those doors and quietly related all that had happened at the army headquarters and after.
After a few moments of digestion of the hard words, Mahvros asked quietly, "Are you going to call him out, Tomos?"
"Would you?" was the response.
Mahvros sighed and shook his head slowly. "I'm not at all certain just what I'd do under the same circumstances, my old friend. He's completely in the wrong, of course, any fool could tell that, and I wonder if the word used by that guard officer doesn't tell us much about the entire kettle of vipers—'senile,' Senility could well be the reason for much of Pahvlos' recent, hardly explainable behavior.
"The captain is right, you know—no, maybe you wouldn't, you don't have all that much contact with the field army anymore. Pahvlos has recently been far more demanding than he has needed to be, stayed almost constantly on the march and insisted on rates of march that were completely unnecessary, considering the circumstances. The best officers, many of them, have resigned and gone home; among the common soldiers, the rates of desertion and rank insubordination have climbed to fantastic figures, and Pahvlos' punishments have been no less than savage—men who deserved no more than perhaps a dozen stripes have been whipped to death on his orders, that or crippled for life; he has had tongues pegged or torn out, fingers and hands and toes and feet lopped off, leg tendons severed, joints sprung loose—he is become a monster to the men of this army he chooses to call his."
Tomos shook his head slowly. "No, I've only known that the army has been going through with remounts almost as fast as we can train them, pack animals, draught mules, supplies by the mountainload, and is always crying for men from the training units, but I was unaware just how bad it was. Why in hell hasn't Council relieved the man?"
Mahvros snorted. "He's too powerful, that's why, with far too many supporters on Council, men who remember the Strahteegos Komees Pahvlos-of-old and will not believe the enormities he now commits and orders, or who swallow his bland excuses hook, line and sinker. His relief of command is a matter of sufficient importance as to require a two-thirds favorable vote of the entire Council, and the last time that the matter was broached to them, there was a real brawl in the Council Chamber, guards had to be called to finally break it up, two duels grew out of it all, and shortly thereafter there was an attempt to assassinate Grahvos.
"Did I think that it would do anyone any good, I'd say go ahead and call the old bastard out, for that captain is right: he'll never step down and retire, and with matters as they are on Council, there's no way he can be forced out, so the only alternative is going to be his sudden demise, however done or by whom.
"And, were it up to Pahvlos alone, I believe he'd meet you, he was never known to harbor one cowardly bone in his body, and of course then that would be that, you'd cut him down. But naturally, so simple and straightforward a solution to the problem he presents will never be allowed to come to pass. His seconds are certain to cite his great age and insist that you meet and fight a surrogate, no doubt the biggest, fastest, strongest, meanest heavy horse or guards officer they can find. So, no, don't bother challenging him. Have you thought of an assassin? Satisfaction privately enjoyed would be preferable to none at all, perhaps."
"No," said Tomos, "no assassins."
"If it's simply a matter of money, Tomos . . ." began Mahvros.
"Thank you, but no," was the quick response. "If I can't do it myself, I'll not hire another to do it for me; it's simply not my way, Mahvros."
"So then what will you do, Tomos? Just do as he ordered you, take your wife and household and go back to Karaleenos?"
Tomos sighed. "No, I was ordered here by far higher authority than a doddering, sadistic old man. No, I now will do something that I had hoped I never would have to do.
"You will immediately send someone to fetch Grahvos; that someone will tell him to bring with him the sealed red leather tube sent to him by High Lord Milo, years back. Call an immediate meeting of as many
of Council as you can lay hands upon, including Thoheeks Pahvlos, by all means."
Thoheeks Grahvos worked a thumbnail under the thick seals and thus loosened them enough to snap off the leather tube, its bright-red dye having faded somewhat in its years of dusty storage. "High Lord Milos' letter, that accompanied this, mentioned that one other here would know of its existence and contents, but that person was not named. It was you, eh, Tomos?"
When he had removed the lid, he used a finger to fish out the roll of vellum and opened it. After reading it, he hissed softly between his teeth, passed it to Grahvos, then lifted the tube and upended it over his opened palm; then he extended his hand that both of the others might clearly see the half of an old, worn silver coin, cut in an odd zigzag along its middle.
Wordlessly, Tomos took from about his neck a silver chain from which depended another halved coin and fitted it to that piece on the thoheeks' palm to show a whole ten-thrahkmeh piece of some archaic High Lord of Kehnooryos Ehlahs, its worn-down date showing him to have reigned nearly a century before the great earthquakes of three hundred years now past.
The dozen and a half thoheeksee of Council filed into the wide chamber, dutifully racked their swords and other weapons, then took their accustomed places at the long table. Last to make appearance were Grahvos and Mahvros, accompanied by Tomos Gonsalos. At sight of the nonmember, Thoheeks Pahvlos' thick white eyebrows went up and he frowned and began to loudly crack his big knuckles, growling under his breath.
When Mahvros took his place, Pahvlos immediately demanded, "Were we all summoned here simply to hear the yappings of that half-breed puppy out of Karaleenos?" He looked around the Council and added, "He's living with some mountain slut to whom he claims to be married, has the unmitigated gall to refer to the baggage before civilized men as 'his lady wife'! All that I can say is that he never asked or got my permission to marry."
"Why, pray tell, my lord, would he need your precious permission to wed?" asked Thoheeks Sitheeros, adding, "And, as that girl's sire is an old and very dear friend of mine, you'd best balk up your prize insults when I'm around."
"Yes," Pahvlos said, smiling coldly, "everyone here knows your perverse love for barbarians, female and male, nor are your peculiar tastes admired, only tolerated because of your wealth and power. But in reply to your question, my lord, this Karaleen was an officer of my army—"
"It is not your army," snapped Mahvros. "It is Council's army and, through Council, a part of the army of the High Lord Milo, who now rules over us, Karaleenos, Kehnooryos Ehlahs, the Isles of the Ehleen Pirates, the Arhkeethoheekseeahn of Kuhmbuhluhn, the Komeeseeahn of York and the Komeeseeahn of Getzburk. You overstep yourself, my lord, but then you have been so doing for some little time."
The old man grinned mockingly. "Going to make motion to take my army away from me again, you young shoat? Remember what happened the last time, don't you?"
"My lord, please, I beg you," said Thoheeks Portos, "it is
our Council's chairman you are addressing."
"Oh, shut up, Portos!" snarled Pahvlos. "When I want shit out of you, I'll squeeze your malformed head."
"No, Pahvlos, you shut your sewer mouth!" ordered Grahvos. "Keep it shut or I'll summon guards, see you roped into that chair and gagged. If you don't believe me, try me and learn to your sorrow."
He stood up, holding the red leather tube prominently in his hand. "My lords, some years after we had moved the capital from its old location to Mehseepolis, I was recipient of certain dispatches from High Lord Milos. If those who were then members of Council will recall, we then were not at all certain sure that we would be able to rebind the lands together under us and ever take our place in the Confederation ruled over by the High Lord, and I had communicated this to him in a letter.
"His replies were several, but one of them was a letter in a tube that also contained this tube—then firmly sealed. The letter that was within the outer tube recognized the enormity of the task we few then were undertaking and praised our bravery for trying to do it at all in the face of seemingly overwhelming odds, so much opposition from so many quarters. The High Lord went on to say that I should keep this tube sealed and keep it always near to hand, and should all appear lost, the situation either hopeless or completely out of hand for whatever reasons, I was to break the seals and open this red tube, seek out the man who had the other half of the coin therein contained, and follow his instructions to the letter, recognizing him to be the full surrogate of the High Lord.
"It did not work out quite that way, of course, my lords. We have succeeded . . . after a fashion. But now crass politics and a controversy centering around a stubborn, petulant old man in his second childhood through senility is threatening the stability that we have but recently achieved at great cost of effort and time, sweat and gold, blood and worry.
"Although we each of us swore and attested powerful oaths to ever lend our full and unqualified support to the aims and aspirations of our Confederation of Consolidated Thoheekseeahnee, its governing body—the Council of Thoheeksee—and the larger entity which it serves and to which it owes pledged fealty—the Confederation of Eastern Peoples—many a one of this present council has proved himself to be completely unwilling to sacrifice even a single one of his purely personal interests to the common weal; indeed, members of Council have time and again fought like cur-dogs over a rotting bone within the precincts of this very room, have later drawn each other's blood in senseless duels and have, I am dead certain, hired common assassins to dispose of peers and brothers of Council.
"This can in no way be construed or considered an orderly government, for all that the strenuous efforts of a very few of us have kept most of the outward appearances of one with little help, no help at all or outright and childish opposition from the remainder of Council. I have right often of recent months thought me of that red letter tube tucked away in my files and wondered and pondered.
"All of you know Snb-strahteegos Thoheeks Tomos Gonsalos, here. He is Karaleen-born and truly owes us nothing, yet he accepted the High Lord's commission to march down here following the Zastros disaster and, with a small nucleus of troops loaned by the High Lord for a core, rebuild from the broken, scattered elements of warbands and survivors of the royal armies of the various kings a fine, strong, well-balanced and proven-effective army, so that when the present Grand Strahteegos took command, years back, he had only to shape and mold a preexisting army to his personal taste, not organize one from scratch, as might otherwise have been the case.
"After the Grand Strahteegos took command of the field army, no one would have thought it at all out of place had this selfless nobleman, his job well done, left and returned back north to his own lands and kin. But he did not, rather he stayed on here, and has since then done the hard, detailed and exacting duties of managing the many-faceted support system without which the field army could not exist and keep functioning.
"The army taken over by the Grand Strahteegos was strong, disciplined and well organized, owning many fine units raised and commanded by effective and sometimes brilliant noble officers. The skill and valor and blood of that army won victory atop victory for Council and was of significant help in finally reuniting these lands, clearing them of the scum that had accumulated here and there in the bad old days and seating us and our noble vassals all securely in our places. This army of ours remained that way for a while . . . but no more, my lords, no more."
"Now, dammit, Grahvos," snapped Pahvlos, looking and sounding thoroughly exasperated, "do you intend to get to a point or not? I am a very busy man, I have many important matters awaiting me back at the headquarters of my army. I think that this session can get along just as well rehashing recent history without me." He shoved back his chair and looked to be in the act of arising.
"I would strongly advise that you stay, my lord Grand Strahteegos," said Mahvros quietly and coolly, but with force. "I say this both as chairman and as one privy to knowledge not yet generally shared by the other members of Council."
The spare, white-haired officer sank back into his chair, saying, "Oh, very well. But please, please, get to a point, Grahvos. I left it that the punishment and executions of certain military miscreants on tap for today not commence without me there to witness them, and the troops all are drawn up in formations by now, that they may be warned by those examples how I maintain discipline and loyalty in my army."
"As I was saying, my lords," Thoheeks Grahvos went on, "our army, Council's army, was still a strong, a terribly effective, a high-spirited force as lately as two years ago, but no more. Many of the best noble officers have taken their units and left the camp; many noble officers who yet remain are much disaffected and have made that disaffection known to certain of us."
"Really?" said Pahvlos, raising his eyebrows. "They haven't said as much to me, their commander, their Grand Strahteegos, the man to whom they would logically speak. A wise man would've put no trust in the babblings of a few troublemakers. But are you wise, Grahvos?"
"Wiser than you think!" snapped Grahvos. "Wise enough to know that you don't hold command of a good army by the harsh, brutal, savage and barbaric ways you have taken to using within the last two years, old man.
"Wise enough am I to realize that you cannot keep an army almost constantly on campaign, year-round, and then not allow them to unwind with wine and brandy and carousing in garrison. You don't have men lashed to death or cripplement for being found drunk in their barracks after a three-month campaign in the mountains, yet you did just that. You don't have a good sergeant's ears cropped and burn his scalp bone-deep with boiling pitch simply because he was a day late in returning to camp from a carouse, either, yet you did, my lord. You don't have the hands of an artificer mangled simply because he somehow smuggled a town strumpet into his barracks, but that is just what you did, Thoheeks Pahvlos, whereupon the entire unit of artificiers—officers and men alike—deserted the army, and now Tomos Gonsalos is scratching about trying to organize another artificer corps for the field army."
"The only thing that settles the insubordination of malcontents is the force of example," said Pahvlos coldly.
"Is that so?" Grahvos said. "So what happened when you sent a full battalion of pikemen out to chase down the artificiers and bring them back to star in another of your gory spectacles? They didn't come back either, only a few of their officers, whom you promptly had hung for malfeasance. Man, one would think that you are deliberately set to utterly destroy our army."
"I've heard enough and more than enough!" Pahvlos snarled and came to his feet.
"Sit down!" ordered Grahvos.
"Make me ... if you can," sneered Pahvlos, striding toward the rack of weapons near the door.
Grahvos nodded at Mahvros, who pulled the bell-rope, and abruptly the doorway was filled with guardsmen in half-armor, one of them bearing a coil of thick rope and a handful of leather straps.
Mahvros waved at Pahvlos, saying, "Captain, please escort
the Grand Strahteegos back to his place; there seat him and bind him securely into his chair."
Some others of the Councillors muttered, but most seemed too stunned to do even that. The old officer struggled briefly, but there were just too many hands ready to restrain him, so he gave over, allowed himself to be pushed into the chair, with his arms, legs and torso bound and strapped to its frame. He glared rage at Grahvos and Mahvros, but spoke not a word.
"My lords," said Grahvos, "it has been a painful torment to me to watch the dissolution of our army, the strong right arm of Council, but those of you stubbornly set upon allowing the monster that Pahvlos is become with age to continue his misdeeds because he once was a great and good and entirely different man have tied my hands on the deadly serious matter.
"Today, this once-great senior officer had Tomos Gonsalos brought to his headquarters by a fully armed member of his personal guards and there proceeded to curse him, slander him, insult him on many lines, call his wife a whore and his mother a sow, then order him to leave the camp and our lands and go back to Karaleenos, threatening to sword him otherwise."
"Rubbish!" Pahvlos burst out. "Sewer sweepings, all of it! Yes, I ordered him out of the camp of my army; I did so because he had shown clear disloyalty to me and my authority, he and Grahvos' clique having arranged the legal desertion of a unit of my army. If he says any other, he lies . . . but then he is after all half a barbarian, and to barbarians, as we all know, lying is a native attribute."
Grahvos shook his head. "No, my lord Grand Strahteegos, it is you who lie, in this instance. Members of your headquarters staff easily overheard your shouted insults and slanders and threats against Sub-strahteegos Thoheeks Tomos and they quickly offered witness and full support to him, strongly suggesting that he call you out, meet you at swords' points and kill you, as he easily could. If anything else is disturbing to you, that should be, my lord, for these are the very men who daily and nightly guard your back, watch over you when you sleep, yet they clearly want you dead, if that is the only way that the army can be finally shut of you."