The man expired in agony, but with relatively little noise and fuss. Dev cursed his luck. As soon as this body was found, the route the prisoner had taken would be evident, but there was little he could do about that. There was nowhere in the orchard to effectively conceal a body, and he could hardly spare the time to carry it somewhere. He would just have to move quickly and hope to gain distance on any pursuers.
He left his spear where it was, standing proud of the body. He could hardly climb rocks holding it anyway. Moments later he was grasping the first visible handhold and pulling himself up. As swiftly as he dared, but with the dexterity of a mountain goat and the care of a lover, he caressed the rock, finding grip after grip, spidering up the steep slope. At every moment he expected to hear the sound of a man shouting at him, but still there was nothing. Slowly, he moved across the rocks as he climbed, so that he was now above the lake and not the orchard. It was little comfort. The lake might well provide a nicer surface to fall into than the trees, but the angle of the rocks suggested that Dev would have bashed out his brains on them long before he reached the cold, glassy surface.
Swallowing nervously, he reached for the next handhold, his foot slipping frighteningly for a moment before he found better purchase. Slowly but surely, he moved up and north. The going became tougher as he started to encounter wet rock, but with determination and infinite care he continued to climb. At least the falling water would now be blending nicely with his white garments.
He almost cried as he pulled himself over a lip and realised he had reached the top of the first fall. Here he could see the sources of the distribution tubes, cold fresh water slopping into them at a rate of knots. It briefly occurred to him that, had he a source of poison right now, he could probably kill a sizeable part of the Sizhad’s army. But he hadn’t. And every moment he spent here carried the danger of a gruesome death at the hands of a man who had once been his younger brother.
Dev scrambled across the rock, skirting the small pool and making for the next fall.
He was going to make it.
He was going to survive.
Though how long his world might survive still hung in the balance.
Late summer, Velutio
General Flavius Cinna took a deep breath, preparing to try again.
‘Majesty—’
‘No, Cinna. There will be no peace. You have shown that even a force of men outnumbered and with less effective artillery can hold the west against the great army and the thunderous cannon of the Jade Emperor. And now you expect me to believe that you cannot win this war for me? That I must agree terms with that cadaverous green-eyed monster in the east? No. A thousand times, no, Cinna. I will give you a simple choice…’
Cinna recoiled from the emperor’s spite. The man’s eyes were rolling like a mad dog’s. The rest of the court had pulled away and were leaning back in their seats as though sitting any closer might make them the next target.
‘You will take my commission as it was given and bring me the Jade Emperor’s head on a platter, Cinna, or you may take your own life here and now and I will find a more competent officer to take your place.’
Cinna felt his anger settle in the pit of his stomach and form there into a diamond of hatred. In the blink of an eye he measured the number of paces between him and the madman on the throne. He had no sword, but the emperor always had one next to his seat for when he felt the need to cause bloodshed on a whim. Around the hall’s shadowed periphery there would be hidden archers with their arrows ready. Fifteen paces. He could cover it in three leaps. A few more heartbeats to snatch the sword and then a single blow would free the empire.
He straightened with a sigh. It was a dream. Nothing more. He felt certain that the moment the emperor lay on the floor bleeding out his life, Cinna would be lauded as a hero by the room’s various occupants. But Bassianus had a madman’s hold on his people. As long as he was hale, they would do nothing against him. Cinna would sacrifice himself readily for the empire – he had sworn to do just that many times as a soldier – but even at the height of his physical power, he would have been unlikely to cross that distance without taking at least one arrow. By the time he grasped and drew that sword one would become six. He would be a hedgehog before he could land a killing blow, transfixed with dozens of arrows. And all for naught.
Still he would have tried, but for the other consideration: if he were to die with no direct heir in place, which psychopathic sycophant would be promoted in his place to stomp on the Inda? Cinna had been largely unsuccessful in his attempts to bring the natives on side, and Dev had vanished without trace in the northern mountains. Cinna had requisitioned what he needed from the natives and tried to conduct the war with the minimum damage to them and still they suffered. Imagine what would happen under a man who cared nothing for them? No. He had to return. He’d had to try to persuade the mad old bastard one last time. But he’d failed and he would have to try again.
‘Your face resembles a whore who was short-changed,’ snorted the emperor, laughing at his own crude humour. The court chuckled dutifully, and once again Cinna counted how many steps separated them, just in case.
‘My apologies, Majesty. I merely fear for our outnumbered forces.’
The emperor nodded sagely. ‘Very well. I shall send you the northern army in its entirety to give you the edge you need.’
Cinna felt his heart lurch. No…
‘Majesty, that would endanger the whole empire. I took what forces we could spare to start with. There are no others.’
‘Nonsense,’ Bassianus sneered. ‘The northern chiefs are our allies now. Have been for generations. The border forts are manned by limitanei troops. The full military is superfluous. The northern army will march for your camp at Jalnapur forthwith, and with them you will win me my war. Then I shall be called “Conqueror of the Jade Empire, and master of the world”.’
Cinna fought to stop his eyes rolling in despair. The man was insane. He played with the future of the empire like a child played with a wooden doll.
‘Majesty—’
‘You have your orders. Go and win my war. Unless you wish to fall on your sword right now?’
Cinna counted the number of paces for a final time, wondering if there was any chance of saving the empire today. No. He would die before he struck the blow. He bowed and retreated from the room, heart hollow, hope gone. He was to win an unwinnable war, and to help him the emperor was about to sacrifice the security of the empire itself.
The gods were cruel sometimes.
PART THREE – AN EMPIRE FALLS
Chapter 13
From: Orosius Devinius, adjutant to Flavius Cinna, general commanding
To: Senior officers, all forward positions
Withdraw all extraneous personnel to rear lines. Sappers and engineers will be moving forward to secure the bridge zone against further potential attempts to cross.
Dev looked up from the note wearily and rubbed his sore knee with his free hand, tapping the desk with the pen. He had been back at Jalnapur for only five days and had not had even an hour’s peace to catch up on his sleep or recover from his ordeal in the north.
His mind wandered from the mind-numbing administrative work and beyond the room and the plain outside, back over all the days since his captivity.
He had climbed the rocks at the fortified valley’s eastern extremity with difficulty, constantly aware of the possibility of pursuit, though encountering none. It would likely have taken them in excess of an hour to come across the body in the orchard. It would not have taken them long to determine what had happened and where the killer had gone, but pursuit would be difficult and Dev had a good head start. Still, he moved at pace and only stopped once he was a number of miles from the camp.
Following the ascent of the six waterfalls, he had followed the river to the great lake. It had taken some mental arithmetic and study of the sun’s movement to work out which of the torrents that led down from the Channali Sea was the one th
at passed through Initpur, but in the end he chose the likely one and began his long descent. In the end he had chosen incorrectly anyway, but only just, and the river he followed down out of the mountains had meandered through a land he knew that neighboured Initpur.
He had found the going in the lower hills little easier for some time. Though he was no longer in danger from the Sizhad’s men, he was in Jade Empire-controlled lands, and had been appropriately circumspect in his movements. The few encounters he’d had with enemy patrols and garrison troops had come to naught, for he was Inda and dressed as such, and with his mastery of bluff and lie, he twisted out of trouble each time. Finally he crossed the northern tributaries of the Nadu River, careful to avoid conflict, for here some sort of secondary war was being waged between small roving imperial units on the western side and Jade Empire units to the east.
Once safely across and in imperial-patrolled, independent territory, he managed with some heated debate and a great deal of laboured explanation to requisition supplies and an imperial horse and turned south, following the great river to Jalnapur. He arrived at the war zone and the headquarters there to discover with some surprise that the general was absent. Cinna had been gone for a month, back to Velutio to petition the emperor, leaving his senior officers with instructions to hold their ground and not waste men in any crazed endeavour.
Dev had been held at the picket line for some time before his identity could be confirmed with one of the senior officers, but finally he had been permitted entry and was shown to the command post.
He had then been given only enough time to bathe and dress appropriately, and throw down a quick snack of bread and broth, before the officers began to bring him problems and decisions. Dev had panicked, though only inside where the men could not see. Cinna was the commander. Dev knew his military and his strategy but had no experience at all of command. Yet thanks to his position as Cinna’s adjutant, he was now the ranking officer and things were expected of him.
He had spent the next few days snatching sleep and food when he could and resolving issues and disputes, granting leave to some units, changing the positions of others, dealing with supply problems and supplicants from various Inda kingdoms. It was a trial, keeping him constantly occupied and denying him time to rest, though that was a bittersweet thing in itself. He needed to rest. He needed to recuperate from over two months – was it three? – of journeying, imprisonment and flight. He felt broken and exhausted. But whenever he did get those precious chances to rest and close his eyes, his mind filled with scorching memories of Ravi and his rabid followers. The knowledge that his dear, sweet brother had become this Sizhad tore at his heart, and he was glad that his father was not around to see such a thing. But worse even than that was the knowledge that no matter what happened between the two great empires fighting over the bridge, in the north lurked a new force that was biding its time, waiting for the world to weaken so that they could bring their faith at the tip of a blade to an undefended world.
His brother…
Dev sighed and leaned back in the seat, ribs bruised from weeks of travel and hips sore from riding. The pile of reports and petitions on the left side of the desk was higher than it had been when he’d arrived. How was that possible? He’d not seen anyone come in and add to it. Yet someone must have, because the pile on the right of resolved issues was tiny. Someone had taken them away to deal with. He could barely imagine what someone without his natural administrative talent would have done with it all. Probably best not to ponder too much on that.
He sighed and cast his pen irritably across the table’s surface, closing his eyes for a moment and wishing away the pile of documents before him. He was aware of the presence even with face lowered and eyes closed. Captain Gracilis was in the doorway, clearing his throat. Dev did not even look up at him. He knew the sounds the captain made every time he appeared there a million times a day, each time bearing a new problem for Dev to solve.
‘Tell them to go away, Gracilis,’ he said in a despairing tone. ‘I don’t care whether it’s argumentative officers, brawling troops, irritable medics or discontented locals, they can wait. I’ve too much to do already right here.’
There was an odd silence, and Dev looked up with a frown to see that Gracilis was grinning.
‘What is it?’
‘The general is back, sir.’
Dev felt his heart leap and could not stop a smile from sliding across his own face at the news. On top of every other worry and burden he had struggled with these past five days, he had been deeply, if privately, concerned for the general. The bulk of the soldiery, and probably the officers too, would not have considered the danger Cinna was in, but Dev had been there when the general first received his command in the imperial court. He had watched as Cinna pushed his luck as far as it would go and almost fell to the emperor’s insane displeasure because of it. And the man had gone back to try again, tempting fate. Dev should have spent those five days counting off the hours until the general’s return, but he hadn’t, for he’d harboured more than a faint suspicion that Cinna would by now be cold and white, lying in a burial pit somewhere outside Velutio’s walls.
The news that he was not only alive but had returned to Jalnapur was a balm to the soul and the most welcome tidings Dev could possibly imagine.
‘Where is he?’
Captain Gracilis jerked a thumb over his shoulder. ‘Just passed through the gate of the Fifth Cohort, so he should be here any moment. He comes at pace.’
That could be either good or bad…
Gracilis retreated from the doorway, leaving the general’s adjutant alone. Dev spent the time as he waited for the general arranging things on the desk to look slightly less disorganised, and tidying up his own appearance, which was somewhat dishevelled even in uniform and had been ever since he got back. Perhaps it was time to shave again too.
He heard the general arrive before he saw him and rose to his feet expectantly.
‘Devinius is back?’ Cinna said somewhere outside. ‘Thank the gods.’
Captain Gracilis’s voice came in reply. ‘He’s done an admirable job of keeping your desk clear, General.’
A snort. ‘Perhaps I should go home and leave him to it, then?’
Gracilis chuckled outside as the general appeared, dusty and travel-worn, in the doorway.
‘Gods, but you look a mess, Dev.’
‘Good to see you too, General.’
Cinna smiled, though it never reached his eyes. There was something there that put Dev on edge, though he couldn’t say precisely what it was. The general looked… haunted, somehow.
‘At least the damned rain has stopped,’ Cinna noted. ‘When I left for Velutio it was still coming down like the wrath of the sea god. I gather monsoon season is now officially over. Ground is still sodden though.’
Dev nodded. ‘Engineers tell me it will be weeks yet before the ground becomes firm enough for any real action.’
‘Good. The last thing we want is to have no reason to avoid a huge fight. Every day we cannot launch a major offensive preserves lives. I expect my opposite number is thinking the same thing and relishing the wet ground too.’
Dev braced himself. ‘You have news from Velutio, General?’
Cinna’s last trace of a smile vanished and Dev’s spirits sank. He leaned back as the general turned and closed the door for privacy. Cinna then removed his gloves and dropped his helmet and cloak onto a cupboard top before sinking into the chair opposite Dev and motioning for him to take the commander’s seat behind the desk once more.
‘It could have gone better, I’ll admit. I had to go, though. I was nearing the end of my tether here. You and your cohort had vanished without trace, the rain was unceasing, there was no hope of movement at the river, and disease and illness were starting to take hold in the camp with the poor conditions. I’d spread out the men and tried to keep them as healthy as possible, but the whole thing was plummeting further and further into the mire. I had to tak
e the chance and try to persuade the emperor again. I failed.’
‘You live, General, and that in itself I consider a win.’
Cinna gave a humourless chuckle. ‘In my attempt to improve matters, I have inadvertently made things worse, Dev.’
‘Sir?’
‘I sought to explain to the emperor that we simply do not have the strength to win this fight. Instead of seeking a sensible alternative to this disastrous war, the emperor has promised me enough reinforcements to win it.’
‘That’s madness,’ Dev replied.
‘Something for which our beloved emperor is noted, I would remind you.’
‘But we already stripped the military of all the manpower it could spare and reaped a heavy harvest of able-bodied men from the provinces in the levies we ordered. Where will the emperor find such men for you?’
‘He is committing the northern army in its entirety.’
Dev’s eyes widened. ‘Surely not? I spent years up on the border there cataloguing our strengths and resources. We were stretched even in peacetime. And what peace we can claim with the barbarians across those borders is tenuous, all the more so under the current ruler, since they do not trust the emperor. If the army is withdrawn the northern border will crumble within the year. Probably just a few months, in fact.’
Jade Empire Page 19