The commander shook himself from private speculation as they entered the orchard. He cleared his throat and addressed Velutio, pointing between the trees. “The graveyard’s just beyond that row of cherry trees, sir” he said. “You can see the three freshly-dug graves from here. They’re the closest.”
Velutio nodded and, as they left the shelter of the branches and moved from a floor of twigs and fallen fruit onto neat turf, the lord of the most powerful city in the Empire stared down at three meagre wooden gravestones with a look of deep concentration. He came to a halt by the last of the three and folded his hands behind his back, rocking on his heels. He glanced over his shoulder toward the palace and then back at the commander. His voice took on an edge harder than before.
“Detail a company of your men to exhume these graves.”
Sabian blinked.
“Exhume sir?” he asked in surprise.
Velutio rounded on the commander, beginning to look a little angry.
“Yes, exhume,” he repeated himself, impatience making his voice deep and sinister. “I want all three bodies on display and my personal physician brought from the ship to examine them. I don’t like this one bit.”
Without needing the command repeated again, Sabian saluted and jogged off back to the Ibis Courtyard. As he passed through the gate toward the palace proper, Crosus appeared in the archway and stopped, folding his arms. His lip curled into a sneer.
“Bit of a mess you’ve made of this one, Sabian.”
The commander bridled. “I’m no jailor” he replied, “but I’m a soldier and a good officer and anytime you feel the need to put that to the test, duelling’s still legal. I’ve always thought your throat would look better with three feet of steel jutting out of it.” Without waiting for another pointless comment, he pushed past the guard captain and as he entered the marble enclosure his sergeants came to attention, though Sabian waved aside the discipline with a half-hearted salute.
“Sergeant,” he said, his face devoid of expression, “detail ten men for duty exhuming graves and have them get to the graveyard as fast as they can.” He continued as the sergeant nodded. “Have a runner sent down to the ship for his Lordship’s physician and have him sent to the same place. Then fall the rest out and relax for a while. I have the feeling it’ll be some time before you’ll get to relax again.”
The sergeant saluted and turned to the unit, bellowing orders. Leaving the logistics in the hands of his officers, Sabian jogged back through the archway and off to the graveyard. He had a horrible sinking feeling. He’d automatically trusted these people and assumed that everything was as it seemed. If Velutio doubted it, though…
A few minutes later, he slowed to a walk and came to stand beside his liege. Velutio was staring off into the distance across the sea while Crosus stood on his other side, glaring at Sabian. Velutio cleared his throat and addressed Sabian without a glance.
“The graves are likely empty commander,” he said with cold conviction. “If there is anyone in there, my physician will check them and I’m absolutely certain you will find that they are not who they are supposed to be.”
Sabian frowned.
“How can you be so sure sir?” he asked.
Velutio folded his arms and nodded toward the graves.
“You don’t know the histories of these people, commander” the older man said in a matter-of-fact manner,” but I know every single one. Apart from Quintillian, these three were Tomas Castus and Enarion Stavo. Castus was harbourmaster for the imperial island and Stavo was Quintus’ personal courier. I don’t know how they managed to find a way to get off this island without using the channel to Velutio. It’s theoretically impossible, but if anyone could do it, it would be those two.”
Sabian frowned and scanned the walls with frustration. At most places on the island the turf met the water and the walls were far enough down to afford a good view of the sea from the palaces, but here were cliffs and the walls were too high to see the water beyond.
“Sir,” he began, “I’ve spoken to people who used to sail the passage in the days when the Imperial engineers kept it safe; I’ve spoken to architects who’ve done studies of the palaces; I’ve read a number of books on the place since I took on this jailor’s job, and never anywhere have I found a sign that there is any other navigable route to Isera than through the narrow.”
Velutio turned once more towards the commander. He looked a little tired now.
“Sabian,” he sighed, “just because no one has ever documented a thing doesn’t mean it’s not there. Someone knows a way through the reefs; a safe channel. Never assume you know everything. If I’d thought for a minute that this island was completely secure, would I ever have assigned you to keep an eye on the place?”
He provided his own answer before Sabian could speak.
“No, commander. Though I don’t want you to think that I hold you in any way responsible for any of this. It had to happen eventually.”
Sabian blinked. It hadn’t occurred to him that blame might land with him anyway. He was guiltless. Gritting his teeth at the unpleasant smile Crosus was giving him from behind Velutio, he glanced back over his shoulder and saw the exhumation party and the doctor making their way to the graves.
Stepping back beneath the cherry trees, he leaned heavily against the bole of one of them while he watched his men digging. If they found nothing, he’d have to take charge of the situation pretty damn quick. Praying to fortune for all to be in order, he cleared his throat and addressed his Lordship again.
“Sir, unless you really need me right now, I ought to go and address my men. They’ll be draped around the Ibis courtyard waiting for orders.”
“Do that Sabian,” Velutio nodded and raised his hand, “but be back here in ten minutes and have some of your men bring the elders down here with you.”
“Yessir.”
Sabian trotted off once more toward the main palace and the Ibis courtyard. His two senior sergeants stood by the Arch of the Four Seasons, deep in conversation. They came to attention as Sabian jogged into the yard and slowed to a halt. He glanced around.
“Where are the men?” he asked. “I told you to fall them out for now.”
The sergeants nodded and the younger of the two addressed his commander in a clear, sure voice.
“Yes sir” he replied efficiently. “Four companies are fallen out and are relaxing on the grass outside the gate, two of mine and two of Cialo’s. The other two have been set on guard at strategic points as best as we can manage; none of us know the layout of the place very well sir.”
“Nice job lads,” Sabian smiled. “Now Cialo, go get your two resting companies and bring them back here.” He pointed to a set of windows high up on one side of the courtyard. “I’m going to fetch the elders.”
The sergeant saluted and ran off through the great gate toward the sloping lawn. Sabian sighed; he had a really bad feeling about today. Entering through a decorative archway, he pushed open a heavy oak door and slowly climbed the stairs. This had once been the Raven Palace; the administrative centre where the senior Imperial officials had lived and worked. Minister Sarios had spent most of his free life here, controlling the intricacies of Empire, and had continued in the same building for a further two decades of captivity. With a sense of foreboding, Sabian climbed the stairs, trying to gather his thoughts and formulating his words before he reached the huge wooden double doors to the dining hall and pushed them open.
“Good morning” he addressed the assembly. “His Lordship wants the elders to join us at the graveyard, so please gather yourselves and make your way down to the courtyard. The rest of you’ll have to wait here for the moment.”