“I’m not talking about that, Darius, and you know it. Sarios spent his entire life on the island preparing you for this, but he was never close to you, was he? I know how close Sabian was to you. I suspect he even felt like family; an uncle or some such?”
Darius looked down at the floor and nodded slowly.
“And now he’s gone from you,” the big black captain went on. “He’s the enemy and that’s hard enough for you to deal with. And then you got to know Kiva and he’s taken much the same role with you: protector, advisor, even father-figure perhaps. And now you know you’re going to lose him. It’s going to be hard on you; you’re still a young man, Darius. It’s cutting me up deep inside knowing in a few weeks he’ll be gone from us. I’ve known him almost all my life and I’ve never been as close to anyone. He’s been a brother to me since we met on the battlefield at the Galtic Narrows and the rest of the Wolves feel much the same. Mercurias deals with it by being angry at him for what he sees as shortening his own life for the sake of the campaign. Brendan’s in denial; he thinks Kiva will live forever. Marco’s all but stopped speaking to people and I notice he’s started drinking quite heavily. And I’m bottling it all up, because someone has to keep control. That, I suspect is why he’s spending so much time with Balo, Cialo and Favio. He can’t be with us at the moment, because it’s distracting. He needs to concentrate on what he’s doing and those three are less interested parties; outsiders if you prefer.”
Darius lifted his head and Athas was not surprised to see the tears in his eyes.
“I’m just not prepared for all this,” the young man said, his voice thick with emotion. “Battles and campaigns I was expecting, but there’s too much more than that; too much personal trouble. I always thought Sabian would somehow help us; I couldn’t believe he’d bring an army against us for that man. If he leads his force against us; against me… It feels like my family are betraying me or deserting me. Sabian’s going to fight me; Kiva’s going to leave me. Gods alone know how many of the rest of us are going to die in the next week. Even if we win this, who’s going to be left? I might be alone.”
Athas nodded. “It’s a distinct possibility. But you’ve got to plan for every eventuality. You’ll always have a good civilian support even if all of your commanders die. Sarios, Favio, Sathina and all the elders of the island will be able to help you after this is over. I have to admit I’m surprised Sabian is still with them, but he’s a man of his word. He took an oath to Velutio and he’d rather die than betray that oath. His loyalty may be misplaced, but that’s the kind of honour the world’s sadly short of. If we lose, he’ll have been proved right. If we win, it won’t be him we’ve beaten; it’ll be his master. Either way, he’ll fight honourably and fairly and you can’t ask more of him than that. I’d certainly rather he was in command of the enemy than someone with no morals.”
The Emperor shuddered as the tears fell. “I just don’t know if I can do it Athas. This last quarter of an hour actually hurt. I spent three hours steeling myself to have to say the things I did, and I think Brendan’s angry with me now too.”
Athas shook his head. “As I said, Brendan’s in denial. He’ll not blame you. We need to get the army moving and you need to dry your face and stand up straight. You’re the Emperor, remember, not just Darius of Isera now.”
The young man gave him a weak smile as they stood slowly and walked slowly toward the exit. Darius wiped his face on his sleeve and held his head high. Outside, the camp was a blur of activity, as regiments packed up or moved into position. Athas’ engineers and supply wagons were already on the move, having set off under armed escort as soon as the sun had risen. The rest would catch up within the hour and they’d be safe from trouble with Tythias’ scout units constantly monitoring the surrounding area and reporting any sign of a life. Tythias and Athas had made the decision to remove some of the safeguards from the slow-moving units in order to speed up the general movement rate of the entire army.
Darius and the burly, dark-skinned man strode across the grass in front of the command tent and were about to go their separate ways when one of the gate guards came running, out of breath, up the hill to the officers. He stumbled to a halt and saluted clumsily.
“Your majesty? Sir? There’s a man at the gate… whole load of men with him… doesn’t know the password but demands to be let in… Says he’s the Prince of Pelasia, sir.”
Darius turned to Athas, a grin slowly spreading across his face. The first good news he’d heard in days. He sighed as some of the tension fell from his shoulders and nodded at the soldier. “Go and find Prefect Tythias and tell him to join us at the gate. Then come back down, but don’t run. You’ll do yourself an injury; look at yourself man… you’ve gone purple!”
Athas laughed and patted Darius on the shoulder as they strode slowly down the hill toward the west gate. Already the first and second regiment were moving down the hill toward the gate with their full packs. Men ran everywhere organising and busy, though each and every one stopped in mid-run to salute their Emperor. Darius stopped one of them.
“What are you doing now?”
“Sir! I’ve gotta go fetch the standards for the third regiments, sir.”
Darius smiled. “Ok, but go via the command area and tell my guard to pack up and get my gear loaded on the wagons. And have one of them bring my armour and horse down to the west gate.”
“Yessir!” the man saluted again and then jogged off up the hill.
At the gate, Ashar stood with his arms folded watching them approach. Behind him the entire Pelasian unit sat ahorse, watching with interest. Ashar grinned as Athas and Darius approached the blockade.
“Quite an army you’ve got here now, young Emperor.”
Darius returned the smile. “Ashar. Your intelligence must be slipping if you don’t know our watchwords.”
“Ha.” Ashar leaned over the barrier. “’Stadium’, yes? And yesterday was ‘fish sauce’, the day before was ‘provincial’. Need I go on?”
“Then why wait at the gate?” Athas enquired.
Ashar smiled. “I’m not actually part of your army. It would be impolite of me to enter a foreign nation’s military capital under false authority. Plus, I owe it to the Emperor here to treat him with the respect I would hope he would treat me.”
Darius returned the smile. “When this is over, Ashar, and we’ve rebuilt the Empire, this army will be travelling with you to put you back on your own throne. Rest assured the terms between our two countries will be good as ever they were if not better. In the meantime…” He leaned round the prince to address the Pelasian riders. “Go ahead and get yourself a bite to eat. The mess hasn’t been packed up yet and the cook should still be able to find you something. Have an hour’s rest, because by then the last of the army will be ready to move out.”
He turned back to Ashar. “Sorry to speak to your men over you, but we’re a little pressed for time.”
The prince nodded. “Agreed. I saw Caerdin and a few other men riding out a few hours ago. We passed them down on the Tosco valley trail. I presume that’s where you’re planning to meet Velutio?”
Athas nodded. “Kiva hasn’t confirmed it yet, but that’s where we’re making for. He’s gone ahead to check out the ground.”
“Yes. It would be somewhat amusing. And a good spot so long as you get there first. How large is your army now?”
Darius squared his shoulders. “Just under fifteen thousand, split into nine regiments and other cavalry and missile units under independent command. Then there’s engineers and their weapons and the supply train.”
Ashar nodded. “It’s starting to get a lot more even. I couldn’t get an exact count, but if you’d met Velutio’s army a week ago, they’d have walked across you without stopping to see what they’d trodden on. Now I shouldn’t think it’s even two to one anymore. There’ve been whole units of deserters we’ve come across in the last week.”