He laughed at Kerrion’s raised eyebrow. “Yes, we are the best of friends.”
He had two good friends sitting here in a dead man’s tent. Kerrion was still his mentor—in his own eyes at least, even if to outward appearances he was a full shaman. Darnath was safe as his apprentice, and he could teach him openly. Everything had worked out for the best, but still he wondered why Duren had treated Darnath so badly. He supposed he would never know the answer now.
* * *
Interlude II
Vexin entered his study to find Keppel already waiting. He sat behind his desk and motioned Keppel to sit also. Everyone called his spy master the Snake, but never to his face. Keppel was one of the few people close to him, and the only one he allowed in his sanctuary. He trusted Keppel with his life. More than that, he trusted him with his family’s lives and had never regretted it.
“Tell me,” Vexin said settling himself more comfortably.
“Matriarch Talitha,” Keppel said simply.
“The God curse it!” Vexin thumped his desk in anger. “Why now when I’m so close?”
Keppel narrowed his eyes. “It seems that House Malim raided her coast last fall. She sank one of Lord Malim’s ships, but rather than leave the matter there, she counter-raided.” He glanced down at the message scroll in his hand. “Massively,”
Lord Vivika,” Vexin snarled. Vivika was a name that supposedly meant wise councillor. The man wouldn’t know which end a horse shat from if his wife didn’t tell him! Vivika was The Malim—Lord of House Malim—for now. “I’ll have him executed… I’ll have him dragged through the city in chains, I’ll… but I can’t can I?” he finished mournfully.
Keppel shook his head emphatically. “You cannot kill him… not openly. If you execute Vivika, the others will howl. Not only that, they might recall their men from your new army.”
Vexin groaned. He knew Keppel was going to say that, but he had hoped… Ah well, what point in speculating on might have beens? He had to arrange things with Japura. More correctly, he had to arrange matters with the bitch Matriarch Talitha.
It wasn’t fair, he thought as he shifted his attention from shattered plans towards the barest glimmer of a new one. His lords seemed to have a blind spot when it came to consequences. They didn’t seem to know, or care for that matter, that every feud and every raid cost the empire thousands of men, and tens of thousands in gold. Vexin rubbed his temples. A headache was beginning to throb in time with his heartbeat. He needed a way out, but he couldn’t see one short of war. He didn’t want another war with Japura—especially not now. Grovelling, no matter how distasteful, wouldn’t work. He had sent letters to Talitha before when something similar had occurred. He hadn’t exactly prostrated himself before her, but he had been polite… exceptionally polite in fact. She had replied by doubling the cost of the armour and weapons he had needed. His only recourse back then was to compound the original cause of strife by authorising a raid. Although he had lost more than a thousand men, the raid had been wonderfully successful. It had paid for itself in steel swords and gold coin many times over. Talitha had counter-raided in her turn, but his men’s blood had been well and truly up from their victory. They had annihilated her forces with negligible losses.
Negligible was a relative term, Vexin now thought. It could hardly be called negligible to those who had died. Talitha’s losses had been catastrophic though, which is why she, and not he, had been the one to pay compensation in the form of a further five thousand swords. He had been well pleased until the tribute arrived. The little vixen had sent him rubbish swords that no self-respecting guardsmen would be seen dead carrying. Still, Vexin mused, he had made good use of them in the end by melting them down into ploughs for his peasants. They loved him for that gesture. It was then that he realised what a resource the common folk could be to an emperor beset by rebellious lords. He had taken immediate advantage by remitting taxes. Each year, a pair of villages was selected at random to have its taxes waved.
The lords thought him mad. Who cared what the peasants thought, they said? Vexin cared. He cared very much. There were ten powerful Houses that he was required to keep constant watch upon, and perhaps as many smaller Houses that he could safely ignore. There was something like three million or more peasants. The lords could ignore them at their peril, but he wanted friends. Lots of friends!
The solution to the current situation stuck in Vexin’s craw, but he had no real choice. Truly, history did repeat itself as the philosophers maintained. He would have been far happier had the cycle been longer. Deva was ripe for the taking, he even had an army ready to go, but what does Vivika do? He attacks Talitha on his own and ruins it all.
Vexin sighed. “I’ll have to send the army into Japura.”
Keppel nodded unsurprised at his decision. House Malim raids, Talitha counter-raids. Now he, Emperor Vexin, counter-counter raids. It was sickening! If he was going to do this stupid thing, he was going to do it right. No more of this raid and counter-raid shit!
“I can’t kill Vivika, but what about his bitch wife? This is her fault.”
Keppel smiled dreamily. “Not a problem, but the lords will know it was you.”
“Humph!” Vexin leaned back in his chair playing with his seal ring. “If someone drops dead from a fall off his horse, they think I did it! Still, best we try to keep attention on the task at hand. Hire an amateur—”
Keppel was scowling now. He didn’t like people who made a mess of his craft, and people who Keppel didn’t like had a tendency to disappear. There had been that guard last year…
“Don’t scowl Keppel, you’ll get wrinkles!” Vexin said laughing. “Seriously now, how about someone posing as her latest lover? He could kill her, and then you could arrange for him to be caught escaping. What do you think?”
“I like it,” Keppel said. He seemed positively cheerful at the prospect.
“I thought you might,” Vexin said slyly. “You know, I think I might give Vivika to Talitha as a present when all this is over. Hmmm, I’ll give that more thought, but I might just do that. First, I have a war to win—just a small one for now—then back to the more serious matter of Deva.”
After Keppel left to find himself a would-be lover/assassin, Vexin went to see Bothmar. It was unusual for him to seek out his minion personally, but he was in no mood to sit on his hard throne waiting for Bothmar to arrive as he usually did. He found his servant hard at work like a squirrel storing his nuts. He always thought of squirrels when he was with Bothmar.
“My Lord!” Bothmar gasped rising quickly.
“That’s all right, you may sit.”
This was a novel experience—Bothmar behind the desk, and Vexin sitting in the guest’s chair. Bothmar was ill at ease and reluctant to sit in his emperor’s presence.
“For what do I owe this honour my emperor?”
That was nicely said. Bothmar had taken his words to heart it seems. He had been in a bad mood that day, and ordered Bothmar to do better concerning his suggestions. It appeared Bothmar was learning courtly ways as well.
“It seems that Talitha has raided my border,” Vexin said slowly.
“Yes m’lord, I have the reports here,” Bothmar said reaching for a pile of parchment.
“You do? That is most excellent of you Bothmar,” Vexin said beaming a smile at his servant. “I must say, you are proving to be a surprise.”
“A surprise, m’lord. In what way a surprise?”
Vexin smiled at the note of worry in Bothmar’s voice. “I had thought you to be an unimaginative man. That’s not a criticism. I need someone who will follow my orders to the letter without deviation… are you following me?”
Bothmar paled. “Yes m’lord. I understand perfectly. I always follow your orders to the letter, even when—if I might say so, even when I feel them to be in error.”
Vexin chuckled. “Excellent again, Bothmar. You are my most visible servant. Everyone knows you, and that you speak with my voice. Which is why I
need to know your words are my words—do you see?”
“Yes m’lord.”
That was good. Vexin really did trust Bothmar to do what he was told. He always had, but being emperor meant he could never be too trusting. If his father had been more careful, the assassin would have died in his place.
“Now then, what’s the damage as far as this Japuran raid is concerned?” Bothmar winced at his words. That bad eh? Well, he would just have to make it plain to Barthan that he wanted Talitha to pay dearly.
Shuffling through the reports, Bothmar distilled their essence. “All the villages along the border were depopulated by the Tanjuner slavers m’lord. Many of the men were killed in the fighting of course, but not a single woman younger than thirty was found dead. The villages and farms were put to the torch and the fields were badly damaged. It’s not my place m’lord, but might I suggest we not replace the villages as we usually do with new ones?”
Vexin’s brows rose. Bothmar was starting to intrigue him. “Just out of interest Bothmar, what would you do?”
“I, m’lord?” Bothmar said hesitantly. “I would not rebuild the villages. Instead, I would build a line of forts along the border as the legions are want to do. I would garrison them with men from the lesser noble houses—less risk that way. In a few years, small towns will grow nearby to take advantage of the protection they provide. Forgive me for saying this m’lord, but war really doesn’t solve anything. If you want to strengthen the Empire, I would suggest fortifying the land along the border—and over it when you can get away with it—”
Vexin grinned at that.
“—with people whose first loyalty is to the Emperor and not the noble Houses.”
Vexin gaped. He had thought Bothmar would come up with some crackpot scheme, but this… this could work. It would work if he had enough people willing to risk living along the border. It wouldn’t help him, but his son would definitely benefit from a stable border. Odrhan’s sons might see a goodly portion of Japura loyal to the Tanjung Empire.
“I like your thinking, Bothmar,” Vexin said with approval heavy in his voice. “War doesn’t solve anything in the long term, I agree, but in the short term it is sometimes the only option. I need you to draft orders for Barthan to deploy his army over the Japuran border. I want you to specifically state this is not a raid. It is to be war on a limited scale. I want Talitha to regret her raid into my territory. I want her to hurt, as my peasants were hurt! I want maximum destruction, minimum losses on our side. You can mention that Deva is still the primary target, so Barthan is not to lose any significant portions of the army.”
Bothmar was scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment. “I have it m’lord.”
Vexin nodded, and tried to think of anything he’d forgotten. “Once you’ve sent that with our fastest courier, I want your idea in writing with detailed lists of men and gold required. Include anything that you think is needed to do the job right. Don’t be stingy at this stage. We can always make some cuts later.”
Bothmar sat up straight and pleasure radiated from him. “Yes my emperor!”
“Plan it however you like, and we’ll go over it together. If you have any other ideas, don’t hesitate to tell me. I might yell and scream at bad ones, but I promise not to execute you.”
“Thank you m’lord!” Bothmar said surprised and pleased at the promise.
* * *
Methrym sighed and shook his head at Soren’s offer of wine. Soren poured more for himself then sat back to guzzle it. Foolish to lose control at any time, more so here on the border with Japura. Talitha’s spies seemed inept to him, but surely they would notice an eight thousand strong army eventually. Methrym snorted at the thought. There was no evidence so far to back up his surmise, but it was completely beyond belief that Talitha would not respond in some fashion.
He clenched a fist thinking about his glorious leader Barthan. The fool actually wanted Talitha to send an army to oppose him! Barthan was a good warrior, but he wasn’t a soldier. Most would wonder what the difference was, but not Methrym, oh no. A warrior like Barthan knew nothing of strategy, and relied entirely on battlefield tactics to win one battle at a time. Tactics were important, but not as important as strategy. Barthan had no strategy to deal with the Japurans, and he had only one tactic: hammer the front of the enemy with superior force until the enemy broke or the hammer did—if the former, fine, but if the latter, use a bigger hammer! Barthan cared not at all for the losses his so-called tactic would cause. To Barthan, his men dying in battle was just the price he paid for glory, and he lost not a wink of sleep contemplating death. What was an admirable quality in a common soldier was a disaster waiting to happen in a War Leader—especially one in charge of the largest army Tanjung had ever fielded.
Vexin had ordered them to hurt Talitha in the hope of preventing more raids. The orders seemed specific enough to Methrym, but Barthan read something entirely different into them. Barthan had proceeded on the assumption that hurting Talitha meant killing her soldiers, but Methrym felt certain Vexin would not agree. His cousin was different from previous emperors in that conquest was a means to an end rather than an end in itself. Vexin didn’t want glory, he wanted peace in the empire and was willing to go to war to get it. Whether the idea would work or not was debatable, but it couldn’t be put to the test while Barthan sat on the border with his thumb up his arse!
“So what did he say?” Soren said reaching for the wine again.
Methrym slapped a hand to the bottle and shook his head. “You’ve had enough—more than enough.”
Soren looked ready to argue, but one look at Methrym’s face changed his mind.
How Methrym wished Niko had survived the Elvissa fiasco last year. Soren had replaced Niko as his second, but he was nothing like his old a sorely missed friend. Soren was another warrior like Barthan, more interested in personal glory than strengthening the empire. There were unfortunately all too many of the type in Tanjung. How he wished he had men like the Devans under his command, or better yet, the legionnaires of the Protectorate. He would never say it aloud of course, but he had been thoroughly beaten at Elvissa by a mere boy. Keppel had informed him after his humiliating return to Tanjor that Lord Donalt was barely twenty, yet he had proven himself a better man and soldier than he. The thought was an uncomfortable one, but he would not delude himself as Barthan did. Faults could be worked around if you knew of them. After many sleepless nights following his defeat, Methrym had concluded that if he had a fault, it was overconfidence.
“Barthan wouldn’t listen, no matter how I explained my reasoning,” Methrym said.
Soren burped wine vapours at him. “I told you he wouldn’t cous—”
Methrym clenched his teeth and didn’t kill him for the affront. Soren might be a drunken sot, but he could fight like a demon, and that would be useful later.
“—Baltu is a proud house, and Barthan is the best they’ve ever had. Why you ever thought you could change his plans, I’ll never understand.”
“I know,” Methrym said sadly. It was a shame really. Soren could have been so much more if he’d had the training that Vexin and he’d had. “This is politics.”
Soren blinked blearily. “Politics? Politics is nothing but dickering for trade rights and such. How can war be politics?”
Give me strength!
“Listen carefully cousin! Vexin has a disagreement with Talitha, that’s the only reason we’re here. She wants to raid us, Vexin doesn’t want her to! Politics is nothing without force to back it up, and we are supposed to be supplying it, not sitting here waiting!”
“If you say so.”
“You fool! Don’t you see? Vexin wants us to hurt Talitha so that when she finally agrees to talk, he can point to our success and threaten more of the same next time she raids. Vexin won’t be satisfied with just a raid from us, he wants raiding to stop!”
Soren didn’t answer. He was passed out in his chair.
Methrym rose and walked out of
the tent leaving Soren to his slumber. He looked around at the haphazard camp. The men were young and inexperienced. If he had his way, this little war would prove excellent training for the real enemy. Deva was still the target. He would see to it that these boys were turned into soldiers able to fight the Devans and win. He could hardly wait to see that bastard wizard again. This time he would be the one looking at a defeated man.
Methrym pulled the little glass vial out of his pouch, and shook it to swirl the greenish liquid it contained. It was Henna, a deadly poison. He had been dosing himself with the vile stuff in tiny amounts for years in anticipation of a time like this. He was sure he could drink this amount… he was almost sure.
Methrym glanced at Barthan’s tent and smiled. It was time to see if ten years of belly aches had been worth it.
* * *
Nisim stretched his aching back and bent to lift the buckets. The sun was shining, but the clouds coming in from the west threatened a storm to come. He hurried inside and poured the water into the washtub then went back for more. Another six should see it done. Back and forth he trotted always dashing back for two more.
Nisim stopped and raised his face to the sky as the rain came down. He was drenched in moments. It was refreshing to stand still for a moment, it was a luxury he hadn’t been allowed to sample since his stay of execution. A lot had happened since his first day in Mireya’s house…
The guards had dragged him out of his cell blinking into the light and squinting dazzled eyes. Nothing had changed. The slave pens were full, as usual, and the stench was awesome, also as usual, but many of the slaves looked unusual to his dazzled eyes. They had the look of Tanjung about them. Was there war? It wouldn’t surprise him if there was. Slaves were often taken as booty. He didn’t know how long he had been in that stinking hole in the ground, but it was a lot. There could be war and he not aware of it. At least his captivity was over now. He had made his peace with the God. He was sorry he’d needed to kill the guard, but he wasn’t sorry he had done it… if that made sense. It did to him anyway. If the bodyguard hadn’t hurt Nona, he wouldn’t be dead.
Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 Page 67