Jihan found belief on most faces, but not all. There were some in a group on the left that seemed sceptical, whether from intelligent paranoia or from a distrust of nobles in general, he could not say.
“Keep an eye on that group to the left,” he whispered to Echion. “They might be all right, but they seem different from the others.”
“Yes my lord. I had noticed they stick together. I’ll find out more later.”
“Good enough,” he said and reordered his thoughts to the task at hand. “The legions have a system of maniples and battalions. It’s a good system. I want all of you to reorganise into groups of a hundred. A sergeant will be with you in a moment to check the count.”
“See that done, Echion,” Jihan said waiting.
Echion gave the word and the camp again erupted into a chaos of screaming men. Thirty hand picked guardsmen, the very best Malcor had, rushed forward to attend to their maniples. In short order, the recruit sergeants had all three thousand recruits reassembled into square formations. The sight made Jihan shiver with excitement. These men could not fight, could not ride, could not do much of anything yet, but already they were looking like soldiers.
“That certain group managed to stay together again my lord,” Echion said with a nod.
“Maybe they all come from the same village,” he replied and turned his attention back to the recruits. “The man standing in front of your maniple is your sergeant. Get to know his face. The men of your maniple will become closer than brothers. Get to know your brothers. There may come a time when all that stands between you and death is one of these men. Think about that carefully.
“The first ten maniples on my left are first battalion. The middle ten are second battalion, the third ten are obviously third battalion. Do not forget your maniple and battalion numbers, they’re important. You will find two numbers painted upon the doors of the barracks; these correspond to your maniple and battalion numbers and are where you will live for at least a year and more probably two.”
He moved toward first battalion and returned the salutes of the sergeants. The recruits of course stayed as they were. He decided on Erwin as captain because the odd group was contained in a single maniple within first battalion.
“Erwin!”
“Lord!” Erwin said and trotted to him.
“You are captain for first battalion,” Jihan said and moved on.
“Yes my lord,” Erwin said to Jihan’s back.
Erwin was a good captain, but a hard man, which is why he had chosen him for first battalion. If the odd group became in any way rowdy he could rely on Erwin to sort it out.
Jihan made his way along the silent ranks and assigned two more captains. Captain Cort was his choice for second battalion, a young but able ex-sergeant. Lastly, Captain Rikka for third battalion, a contemporary of Echion. The two were friends, and would often spar together.
Jihan took his place next to Echion once more. “There will be no training today. You will follow the orders of your officers and finish the unloading. Tomorrow you’ll begin the journey toward becoming soldiers.” He began to turn away but stopped himself. “One last thing. Make me proud fellow soldiers.”
“Dismissed to duties!” Echion roared.
Jihan turned away with Echion at his side as the cacophony erupted once more. This time he could hear the difference. Instead of thousands of voices shouting and talking at cross purposes, he heard three captains quietly giving orders and thirty sergeants bellowing instructions. Much better, he thought, and Echion seemed to agree.
“I would never have believed so many recruits could be organised so quickly if I hadn’t seen it my lord.”
He smiled as he mounted his horse. “It’s simple Echion. Every problem whether big or small can be broken down into smaller and smaller parts. Do that enough, and soon you find there is no problem.” He turned his horse toward the fortress. “You know the plan. I’ll leave it to you until I can see Dylan safely on his way.”
“You can count on me my lord!”
“I know I can,” he said and urged Jezy out of the gates.
* * *
Interlude III
Vexin stared at the map of Tanjung unseeing. Too many places were crossed out. Every town and village in the borderlands was gone. More worrying was Keppel’s news confirming the rumours of a second Japuran army in the east. It seemed Talitha was not satisfied with her greatest strike leader’s efforts even though Wakiza had won every battle to date.
“Prince Ranen you say?”
“Yes my emperor,” Keppel said with a firm nod. “Talitha has raised the princes. Not that they needed much persuading. Talayan was a big incentive for them.”
“Yes it would be,” Vexin said.
Bothmar remained silent, but his slight nod said he agreed.
As Talitha’s consort, Ranen was leading the princes, but it was hard to say which army was the more dangerous of the two. Wakiza was the older and more experienced soldier and was so far undefeated. Ranen on the other hand was young and inexperienced but had more men in the form of the princes and their sworn men.
“Are the houses mobilising as ordered?” Vexin asked as he left the map table to pour more wine.
“All are delighted, my emperor. I’m not aware of any problems as far as the nobles are concerned.”
“That’s good.”
That Vexin had to ask was an indication of his precarious position as emperor. He had ordered the raising of the second army when it became apparent that Methrym, good though he was, was unable to bring Wakiza down.
“We have to do something about Ranen. He could be here in less than a tenday if he pushes the pace.”
“He’ll not do that,” Bothmar put in. “He has to be concerned about ambushes and the like. More likely he’ll take our towns one by one as Wakiza is doing to secure his rear.”
“Probably,” Vexin agreed, “But just in case, I want Dulcinea and the children sent to Karang.”
Bothmar nodded as he made his usual notes. “And Ranen?”
How Vexin wished that Methrym had not been so successful last year. If he had known then what this year would bring, he would have sat on Methrym personally to prevent him from crossing the border. He had been so pleased to hear of Talayan’s doom back then, but now all he felt was frustration and despair.
Vexin frowned as he went over his options. The first thing that came to mind was assassination, but the Dark Brothers had failed him more than once recently. He had ordered Lady Julia and the wizard Lucius killed to further his plans concerning Deva, but the assassins had failed on each occasion. The last time they sent a message to him stating they would not accept any further contracts against her. Keppel had offered to take care of the sorceress personally; he seemed to look upon the thing as a challenge, but Keppel was much too valuable to risk on. Besides, Deva was no longer a concern. Japura was the problem, more specifically prince Ranen. Did Talitha love the man, and if she did, would it be better to kill or capture him?
“Ranen has to be stopped and stopped hard,” Vexin said fiercely. “Send our fastest couriers with all the information we have regarding Ranen and his army. Methrym is to break off his attacks on Wakiza and march east. We can’t lose any more ground.”
Bothmar scribbled furiously.
“And Ranen?” Keppel said.
Vexin stared at the eastern section of the map and clenched his fists. “Kill him,” he said quietly.
* * *
14 ~ The Snake
Nisim lay awake listening to Leona’s breathing. It was a small thing he supposed, but lying here doing nothing would have been unimaginable to him not long ago. In Talitha’s palace, he would have been waiting for her to wake and use him, or he might have been working with his weights. In Talayan, he had briefly worked in a brothel before Mireya bought him. He wouldn’t have been to bed yet were he still there. Well not to sleep any way! Freedom was such a small word for something so huge. Freedom to do or not do whatever he wanted was s
omething a slave had no business even dreaming about. Dreams were dangerous for a slave, dreams led to wrong thinking and error. Error led to beatings or worse… and he had seen worse. Oh yes he had seen worse all right.
Tanni was a friend who had died horribly because of him. He hated remembering that, but it was true. Mireya had learned that he cared for Tanni and had used the boy to hurt him. It was his fault, but Mireya hadn’t lived long enough to gloat about it. The night of Methrym’s sack of Talayan, he had killed her with the help of one of his friends. Naida had been Tanni’s lover for only a short time, but she had loved him dearly. When he died, Naida had vowed to kill Mireya. She used a poisoned dagger on her bodyguard and then used it on Mireya herself; he had helped with pleasure by holding the evil bitch down for the killing stroke. He wasn’t proud of that night’s work, but he would do it again. Mireya had been evil—sick in her head. She deserved the death she received and he would swear so before the God himself.
Nisim glanced toward the tent flap. The sun was barely up, but he decided to get dressed. Terriss was demanding when it came to being on time… he was demanding in all things. Methrym had dragged his army to Chalek just a few days ago, and had immediately called upon Terriss. The outcome of that meeting was to be discussed this morning, which was why he had to hurry.
He was careful not to wake Leona as he stepped outside. The whores and borderers were still living under canvas as they had been since arriving at Chalek. The lord here was not at all happy with having to feed thousands of borderers and freed slaves. Especially not when, in Lord Chalek’s eyes at least, they did nothing all day at his expense. Nisim knew Lord Chalek’s type very well. He was a weak man within himself, a coward and the worst kind of fool—a powerful one. It was little wonder that there was so much friction between him and Terriss. They were exact opposites. Unfortunately, that meant Terriss was powerless to better his people’s lot.
He ducked into a tent that Methrym used for his maps. Joz said it had belonged to a great War Leader named Barthan as if that explained its great size. Nisim had never heard of this Barthan, and had briefly wondered why the man wasn’t leading the army if he was so great. Terriss explained that his death had led to Methrym seizing control of the army, which in turn had led directly to the sack of Talayan and the freeing of the slaves. It was ironic really. Nisim and all his friends owed their freedom to an unknown Japuran assassin for killing Barthan.
He found the tent a little crowded, but there was room to move forward if carefully. After taking a moment to locate Terriss and Joz he made his way over to them. He felt like the odd one out at this gathering, which of course he was. He was pure blood Japuran and not even a soldier like the others. Joz was the soldier and his captain. He refused to call Joz the prince of whores as some of Methrym’s people had begun to do, but they were right in one thing. Joz led them and had a right to be here; Terriss did as well.
But why am I here?
He knew why. His friends had wanted him to lead them because of his foolish and risky actions in the battle for Talayan, but he had refused them their wish. He didn’t want anything to do with killing Japurans. Although he was a slave, he was still a Japuran in his deepest heart, but his friends weren’t happy with his refusal. They had insisted that if he wouldn’t lead them to war as Joz did, he would at least represent them in matters not pertaining to the war. Methrym was as bad. He had bargained for his help with planning his battles, but so far all Nisim had done was confirm information on Talitha’s strike leaders and princes when he knew anything. He had tried to get out of it but it was no use.
“Well?” Joz said as he reached him.
“Well what?” Nisim said and nodded to Terriss who returned the greeting with a nod of his own.
“Come on, Nisim, she is my sister!”
He sighed. “You know I like her Joz, but I’m just not ready to take a wife.”
“But she’s perfect for you! You said yourself that you like her, and I know she likes you. She’s good in bed, and she even knows how to cook that fiery stuff you like so much. What more could you want?”
All of that was true. Leona was a trained whore as Nisim himself was, so they had that in common. They knew how to please each other, and yes, he loved her pentach. He had always liked it very hot and she made it just right but…
He did not love her.
Nisim sighed again. “She is wonderful Joz, but I do not love her.”
“You could learn to,” Joz said solemnly.
“I don’t know. Sometimes I think that if I try a little harder… but then I remember and I know it won’t happen.”
“You are a good friend, Nisim,” Joz said shaking his head in pity. “But you’re also the world’s greatest fool. You were a slave in her palace, less than nothing in her eyes, and yet you pine like a lovesick fool. Talitha is Matriarch of Japura for the God’s sake! Even if she wasn’t, she has a consort now!”
He was a fool, he knew it, but it did no good! “You’re right. I know you’re right, but I can’t change how I feel.”
Joz put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed. “I feel sorry for you. Truly I do, but Leona deserves better than someone who thinks of another woman constantly. It’s not right leading her on like that.”
“I’ll tell her,” he said dreading the thought, but Joz was right, she did deserve better than him—much better.
* * *
“Why now when I’m so close!” Methrym glared at the messenger.
Keppel gave him a cold hard smile. “I will tell you War Leader. You have made such a pitiful mess of this war to date that Talitha felt she could get away with sending a second army to hit Tanjor.”
Methrym slapped a hand to his sword, but before he could reveal a fraction of its length, a knife appeared at his throat.
“Yessss,” Keppel hissed. “That’s right, let it drop.”
He released his hilt and the sword dropped back into its sheath with a quiet snick. He licked his lips as a bead of blood welled and slid down his neck. He looked into Keppel’s eyes and shivered. He saw his death within them.
“Who…” he squeaked. He tried to relieve the pressure upon his neck by stepping back a pace but Keppel would have none of it. The assassin moved with him and more blood trickled.
He tried again. “Who is my replacement to be? I would strongly suggest Lorenz. Soren would likely lose this army.”
Keppel frowned. “I’m not here for you,” he said stepping away and making the dagger disappear.
Methrym urgently needed to use the latrine tent, but as Keppel moved away the need fled to be replaced by another. He snatched his sword free so he might go down fighting. He knew the Snake would best him sword or no sword, but he felt better with it in his hand.
“I’m not here for you,” Keppel said again. “You are ordered to break off from Wakiza immediately and march to engage Ranen’s army in the east. I have my own task, which does not concern you. I will travel with you a while then leave to attend to it.”
The only business the Snake ever had was assassinating people at Vexin’s order. Methrym belatedly realised he had been given a reprieve and sheathed his sword. What the guards thought they were doing letting the assassin by them he didn’t know—not that they could have stopped him, but they should at least have tried! Keppel had entered his tent at sunrise without a by your leave, and given his ruinous orders. Now it seemed he had business with someone nearby. It didn’t take a genius to realise that someone was going to die soon. Why not Wakiza? The Strike Leader had been hurt by his losses in the valley; one more battle and he would be done for, but these orders to break off were tantamount to giving him a second chance!
“If I… when I follow these orders, Wakiza will regroup and reinforce! He’s vulnerable now curse it!”
“You listen to me,” Keppel said. “If we lose Tanjor, we lose everything! The lords are mobilising, but if Tanjor is lost it’s certain they will pull Vexin down and with him the empire.”
“A
ll right, I can see the concern, but surely I have time to hit Wakiza first. I swear to you that one strike will finish him!”
“You have your orders,” Keppel said unmoved.
“What about this; you assassinate Wakiza while I take care of this new army. With luck, his forces will retreat in confusion. At the very least it will make them less a threat.”
Keppel frowned. “I have no orders regarding Wakiza.”
That wasn’t a no, Methrym realised in excitement. “Think about it. Vexin hasn’t ordered you not to kill him—has he?”
“I will think on it.”
“But—”
“That is all I will say on this,” Keppel said cutting him off. “Perhaps something can be done, perhaps not. Either way you have your orders.”
He backed off. He had planted the seed of an idea; he would have to hope it flowered into action. “I have a meeting to attend. Would you care to accompany me?” he asked hoping for a demurral.
“I will,” Keppel said and waited for Methrym to lead the way.
Crossing the camp with Keppel one step behind him was not an experience Methrym was eager to repeat. He could feel Keppel, as if an aura of malice radiated from him. He had never felt anything like it. He knew the man was staring at him—without looking he knew. He entered the tent and was relieved to have others near at hand. Whether for protection or to dilute Keppel’s stare he was uncertain. All the usual faces were present. He had asked Nisim to attend as the representative of the whores because he had planned to use his war band against Wakiza. He was the closest thing to a leader they had. Joz was supposedly their captain, but Nisim really led his people whether he was willing to admit it or not. Soren and Lorenz were standing at the front next to the map table talking when Methrym came in. Lorenz’s eyes widened when he saw Keppel. Soren was oblivious. Methrym quickly shook his head when Lorenz dropped a hand to his sword hilt.
Devan Chronicles Series: Books 1-3 Page 118