Ilios lay in certainty that he had been injured, possibly fatally injured, in the course of the rape, and he wondered if his wounded body could stay alive for long enough to reach an outpost of his people, far to the south, in time. Moreover, he was almost as certain that he had one or more cracked ribs, thinking that the sharp stabs that breathing spawned in his chest could come from no other source.
But terror took over his thoughts again when he saw the redressed, armored man approaching the bed with a slender, sharp-glittering dagger in his hand. The very dagger with which old Pahvlos had been slain … ?
“No, please,” the boy croaked weakly, his tear-filled eyes unable seemingly to leave those six inches of bluish steel blade. “Haven’t you hurt me enough?”
Portos smiled icily. “Oh, no, little Ilios. Today was only our beginning, yours and mine.”
Extending the dagger, he sliced through the strips of satin that held Ilios’ wrists to the headboard, did the same for the ankles, then said, conversationally, “When once you’ve washed and dressed, pack up your things and come to my quarters. You’ll not be welcome at any other place in the camp, city or thoheekseeahn, you know. Tonight, I’ll fit you with a nice, thick peg and start stretching you to my size and tastes, eh?”
Then he turned on his heel and left the suite, stepping over the two dead guardsmen as he strolled up the corridor, his weapons and armor clanking, clashing and ringing.
Chapter IX
“You must understand, Tomos,” said Thoheeks Grahvos bluntly, “that I consider myself to be only a figurehead strahteegos, holding a rank-of-honor, as it were; you and only you will command, save for those functions you choose to delegate to your sub-strahteegohee. I accepted in Council only because I thought it just then impolitic to further upset those few who might’ve been leery of a foreigner taking over command of our army. As you surely know, things might’ve been much stickier than they really were in the wake of old Pahvlos’ … ahh, demise.
“Have you made any decision as to who will take over the training command?”
Tomos nodded once. “Sub-strahteegohee Portos and Guhsz Hehluh will share that function, for once we get the army built up again it will be just too much for one man to handle alone—believe me, my lord, I know of hard experience. Hehluh will also, however, command all of the unmounted troops, and Portos all of the mounted.”
“How of Hehluh’s Keebai mercenaries—will he be expected to wear three hats, then?” asked Grahvos dubiously.
“Oh, no,” replied Tomos, with a chuckle. “He was the first to point out that did I want anything done right, I had best not give him too many jobs to do at once. No, one of his senior lieutenants, a man named Steev Stuhbz, will be taking over field command of the mercenary foot, although for contract purposes, it will still be Hehluh’s unit, of course.”
“And the heavy horse that Portos has led for so long?” demanded Grahvos.
Tomos shook his head. “Now that presented me something of a problem, my lord. The man I wanted to captain the heavy horse, Captain Bralos, refused the posting, preferring to stay with his own light horse. He recommended Captain Ehrrikos, however. I talked with Ehrrikos, but he declined, saying that he’d take it only if I couldn’t get another qualified officer to command it, strongly urging me to approach Captain Bralos. And I did, not quite knowing just what else to do under the circumstances, reapproach Captain Bralos, but he was most adamant in his refusal. However, he did point out a something to me that I had forgotten: Captain Ehrrikos has held his squadron command longer than any other officer still with the army. When I flatly ordered him to assume command of the heavy horse squadron, giving him no other option but to leave the army, he obeyed. Yes, it was a risky gamble, for we can ill afford to lose even one more experienced man or officer, at this sad juncture, but Bralos was certain that the gambit would work on Ehrrikos, and he was proven right, it did.”
Noting the low level of wine in Thoheeks Grahvos’ goblet, Tomos refilled it and his own. “I take it then that my lord will continue to make his residence in the city?” At Grahvos’ wordless nod, he went on to say, “Then I must resolve another problem of a sort, my lord. You see, Hehluh is going to take over my old bachelor quarters in the training-command headquarters, Portos is planning to move into the other senior officer house near to mine, I mean to stay just where my wife and I are now, so that will leave Pahvlos’ suite completely untenanted, vacant.”
“You can’t have it converted to other uses?” asked Grahvos.
“Certainly, my lord, I could, but it would be a damned shame, in my way of thinking, to do it over. In the years that he lived in that suite, Pahvlos invested thousands—maybe tens of thousands—of thrahkmehee in renovations and furnishings. It covers the whole northeast quarter of the main headquarters building, my lord, on the ground level, with a commodious wine cellar under that.
“There’s a long, narrow foyer that opens from the central hallway, a large sitting-room with a hearth for heating, a short corridor from there to the master bedroom with an attiring-room on one side of it and a combination closet and personal armory on the other; beyond that bedroom, the corridor runs on to let to several guest bedrooms. On the other side of the foyer are a very spacious bathing-room with a small pool and piping to a roof tank for sun-warmed water in good weather, as well as to the detached kitchen for heated water in cold seasons. The remainder of the space is taken up by servants’ cubbies and storage rooms.”
Thoheeks Grahvos shrugged, then suddenly brightened. “I know, Tomos, just lock up those rooms and keep them as is for housing very important guests, heh? That suite sounds to be far more comfortable than anything Council can provide visitors of rank in that crowded city, up there. Also, there’s the incontrovertible and unvarnished fact that anyone would be far safer from assassins in the middle of this army’s camp than lodged up there in that unhealthy warren behind the walls of Mehseepolis.”
“Too,” added Tomos, “in a suite so capacious, a large retinue can mostly stay hard by their lord, rather than being lodged here and there, wherever they can be squeezed into the palace complex. I tell you, my lord, sometimes when I’m walking those endless, twisting and turning corridors of the palace, I would not be at all surprised to round a corner and find myself face to face with a snorting, man-eating minotaur.”
Thoheeks Grahvos smiled. “Yes, I too know that feeling, my friend, and I freely admit that the additions to the onetime ducal palace were done in a rather slipshod manner, but it was at the time a crashing necessity to provide more room yesterday, if not sooner. Apropos that, are you aware that for some time Mahvros and I have been looking over architectural and layout plans for a new capital city, a roomy city with acreage allotted for eventual expansion at every hand?”
Tomos shook his head, and Grahvos went on, “Well, we have, down there on the plain, just the other side of the river.”
Tomos wrinkled up his brows, visualizing the announced location, then commented dubiously, “Even if you moat it, my lord, you’ll play hell and pay high to make a city there in any way really defensible. And, if moat it you choose to do, it will end as the centerpiece of a lake or a bog during flood season, you know. That is, unless you build so far from the present rivercourse as to make it easy for a besieger to interdict the canal that will have to supply your moat.”
Grahvos smiled again, nodding. “There speaks the trained military mind. Man, have faith in the beautiful world that your own new High Lord envisions: a world wherein cities need not be built primarily with defense in mind, all cramped into too-small areas and basically unhealthy places in which to live. A world wherein country nobility may exchange their strong but cold and draughty and devilishly uncomfortable holds for spacious, luxurious halls set amongst their croplands and pastures. Have faith that your children and theirs will live happily in a sunny, productive land of peace and law and order, with no single bandit lurking along the roads and no armed bands riding about to trample crops and steal livestock and burn villages.