Darius shrugged. “The two doctors are arguing over him. Velutio’s physician says he’ll never see with his left eye again. Our own doctor disagrees and thinks he can help, but your one won’t let him. It’s all a bit stupid really. If someone needs help you help them in my opinion.”
They had reached the door to the Raven Palace, a single wooden side door, very ornate and with carvings of serpents and gods in armour, though now in a sad state of repair. Darius stopped talking and reached out, pulling the door open for Sabian to pass. The commander nodded his thanks and walked inside with the young man following. In the lower hall of the palace, Sergeant Iasus, young and fair haired, was giving out duty passwords to three soldiers. The sergeant and his men came sharply to attention as they spotted the commander. Sabian waved the salutes aside.
“Iasus, I’ve asked Cialo to gather the men at the baths” Sabian called. “I’d like you to do the same. Don’t worry about duty passwords right now.”
With a sharp bow, Iasus waved towards the door and the three soldiers exited in short order. Sabian started toward the staircase as the sergeant exited the building, but suddenly realised he was walking alone. He turned, only a few steps up, to see Darius standing still in the doorway, glaring out after the exiting soldiers. The commander’s brow furrowed.
“Darius, what the hell is wrong?”
The boy shook his head as if to clear it from a daze.
“I don’t know,” he replied, walking toward the steps.” Maybe nothing, but I’m just not sure.” Sabian frowned. The boy had good instincts and if he had suspicions then Sabian should know about them.
“Darius, talk to me.”
Again a shake of the head. “I’ll tell you when there’s really something to tell” the boy said quietly and began to ascend the steps, his gaze still fixed on the doorway to the courtyard. Sabian shook his head. Caerdin had been a complicated man by all accounts and if he was the man’s son, then it obviously ran in the blood. Reaching the top of the stairs the commander walked toward the open double door that led into the ancient dining room. Though once the administrative staff of the Empire had eaten in this room, it served more these days as a senate for the elders and if Sabian ever wanted to speak to one of them it was rare he would find the room empty.
He stepped inside and admired the decor. Unlike most of the structures on the island, this room retained much of its original wall painting and decorative plaster, creating scenes of hunting and nature, garlands of flowers and beautiful solitary columns and arches. A mosaic covered the central square recess in the floor, depicting frolicking nymphs with jars of water. On the raised floor around all the edges would once have been recliners where the powerful men of Empire would lie to eat. These days they were rickety wooden chairs and tables full of documents and lists. Three of the elders whose names escaped him stood at just such a table, arguing over a list.
As Darius reached the top of the staircase, Sabian cleared his throat loudly. The three elders stopped mid-sentence and turned to face the newcomers. The commander smiled. “I’m not sure who I need to speak to in the absence of the Minister?” He left the question hanging. One of the three, a man of some fifty five or sixty years of age, stepped away from the table.
“I am Turus, also a minister, once in charge of the treasury. You can speak to me.”
Sabian stepped across the room and brought himself up in front of the man.
“Very well Minister Turus.” His voice took on an efficient, military tone. “It has been brought to my attention that there is no interaction between your islanders and my men. This is a sad state of affairs when we are forced to live in such close proximity and I feel it’s time to change the way a few things are done around here.”
Turus narrowed his eyes. In a face not much given to humour, his appearance hardened. “I’d imagined this was coming, but I’d expected it sooner commander. What are we to do now? Be herded into one building and restricted in our movement perhaps?”
Sabian smiled again, but the smile was tight and hard.
“You would be wise, Turus,” the commander said, “to take lessons in courtesy and observation from your leader once he is better. If you had opened your eyes you would be well aware that I am carrying out my orders with the loosest possible leash and trying to make the best of a bad lot for all involved.”
Turus opened his mouth with some retort, but Sabian cut him off before he could begin. “I think you’d better stay quiet and listen Turus before you get yourself into trouble.” He relaxed his stance a little and became aware of Darius standing by his side, almost supportively. Good. That might lend extra weight to his words in this place. ”We need to work on our interaction. Our supplies have not arrived and, while I have absolutely no intention of letting my men starve, I also refuse to commandeer all the goods you have put so much work into. There is precious little need here for guards right now and I shall put my men to work for the benefit of the community, in return for which, you can pay us in food and goods.”
Turus stared at the commander and then turned to look at the other two elders by the table. Sabian couldn’t see his face, but could imagine how it looked. He drew another breath and finished his proposal. “I need you to run an inventory along the same lines that I do on a biannual basis and detail the quantity of all your supplies so that we can work out a reasonable and fair split. In the meantime, I must go to address my troops. With the exception of blustering and complaining have you any comments?”
The minister turned once more to face Sabian.
“Are there any engineers among your men?”
The commander smiled.
It was late afternoon by the time Sabian finally reached the bathhouse and he imagined that the soldiers had probably waited over an hour. Still, it had been worth it. Once he’d actually got through the stubborn shell of Minister Turus, the man turned out to have a more than able command of administrative duties, as one would expect of someone who once held such an important position. As soon as Turus had started questioning, the other two elders had joined in and the ideas had begun to flow thick and fast. Darius had spent most of the time sat on one of the tables to one side watching with interest, but had occasionally piped up with his opinion, though only where it mattered and was of use. As Sabian had finally managed to excuse himself, the elders had continued to plan and prepare and had sent Darius to fetch the rest of the council.
The bathhouse had not been used since the end of the Empire and, though it was still intact, was sadly neglected and dilapidated. As the commander approached, he could smell the rank odour of fetid scummy water and damp plaster. It came as no surprise then when he rounded the corner to find his troops sat in groups on the lawn close by; he couldn’t blame them for not waiting inside. The spot itself was actually rather nice as long as the wind stayed how it was, carrying the aroma of decay away from the men. The bathhouse was one of at least four on the island, none of which were still in commission. This particular one was the largest; the one designed for the general community in the palace. There were two in the actual Imperial palaces that had served the Imperial household and there was one that had served the palace guard, but these were all also currently out of commission. This particular complex was next to the sea, with a fresh water channel that ran down from the cisterns in the palace proper. It stood outside the walls, with a small postern gate allowing access.
The troops struggled to their feet to come to attention as they saw their commander come round the corner of the bathhouse, but Sabian waved it aside and announced “at ease everyone.”