Davarov glared at an aide shifting nervously on the opposite side of the table.
'Did we not issue an edict regarding trapping within the camp boundaries?' he growled.
The woman blushed scarlet. 'Yes, General.'
'Then why am I plagued by this stupidity? I have an army of dead people marching this way and yet some within my walls are trying to create more. I have had enough of this.' Davarov slapped the map and unsettled figures and markers. 'Sorry.'
'Trapping is good within the camps,' said the aide. 'Animals come in after scraps. I know it's not an excuse but—'
'Damn right, it's not an excuse!' thundered Davarov and all heads turned his way. 'Now you're all listening I think it time we understood one or two things. This is not a game. We are not drawing this map just to keep ourselves busy. I do not issue edicts just to fluff my ego. I will throw from the walls the next citizen who lays a trap inside the grounds. They want our protection, they need to start respecting my authority.
'I—'
There was a loud knock on the doors, which opened on the same instant. Davarov clenched his fists.
'If you are not Roberto fucking Del Aglios, you had better have a—'
He stopped, unable to quite believe what had stepped across his threshold. Or rather, who.
'You've got a problem, old friend. Half of your artillery is facing the wrong way and you're missing a whole wall.'
'Hello, Roberto. Looks to me like you could do with a bath.'
Chapter Fifty-Eight
859th cycle of God, 10th day of
Genasfall
'I am so sorry, Roberto. He was a fine young man. Every Conquord citizen will grieve.'
'None more so than my mother.'
Roberto and Davarov walked the walls of the Jewelled Barrier. Their presence together had lifted the mood of the entire facility. Davarov had admitted that the knowledge of the approaching dead was beginning to wear at the nerves of soldier and civilian alike. He wore it like guilt, like failure.
'Atreska failed you,' said Davarov.
'Say that one more time and you're going over the wall,' said Roberto. 'The fact you are standing here gives the Conquord hope. Knowing the dead had taken the border, I feared you would be walking with the enemy.'
'It is only because I ran that I am standing here.'
Roberto stopped and faced Davarov. 'Between bathing, changing, having my armour polished and my boots repaired, I took the opportunity to talk to one or two people. Your story and theirs don't quite match. Big Atreskan bastard. If there's one thing I hate more than cowards, it's modest heroes. And God-surround-me we are going to need heroes in the days to come.'
'I don't think we have enough strength here,' said Davarov. 'Numbers don't enter into it. Spirit, belief, faith. These are in short supply.'
'Even with Them here?'
Davarov shrugged. 'You said it yourself. They spawn as much suspicion as they do hope. Every refugee has a story to tell. Things they've seen, things they've heard. The Neratharnese here are yet to face the dead. We have, you have, and the result is that we have both been driven hundreds of miles in front of them because we have no idea how to stop them.'
'Had, Davarov. Had no idea.'
'Roberto, come on, take the veil from your eyes. Two hundred artillery pieces, three Ascendants. Twenty-five miles of wall here, no defence at all the other side. If they fight smart, like they did on my border and in Gosland, they will breach us.'
'We outnumber them,' said Roberto.
'Today, yes. Tomorrow? Who knows. We hoped they would decay and fall, they did not. We hoped we could keep the path clear in front of them, they caught us all the same. Roberto, they have destroyed the 2nd legion.
The Bear Claws.
Gone bar maybe a few hundred still lost in the mountains to the north.' Davarov shook his head. 'I will stand until they drag me down. Until the last onager is overrun. But I have people with me who know the depths of the terror they experienced on the Tsardon border. Will they stand this time? Not if there is no hope.'
'Then we must give them hope,' said Roberto. 'We have new weapons. We have you and we have me. We must exude nothing but confidence.'
Davarov smiled. 'I'm looking down on my country, Roberto. And I want it back.'
'And we have Ruthrar.'
Davarov's smile disappeared. 'Weapon or spy?'
'You've spoken to Dolius, Davarov, what do you think?'
'I think that the Tsardon have been treacherous bastards on my doorstep for fifteen years and too often inside the houses of my countrymen. You cannot ask me to trust a Tsardon, not even one with the reputation of this Ruthrar. And don't forget it's a reputation quickly earned. How would you behave if you found yourself marooned like him and his people?'
'People who fought and died alongside Conquord loyals trying to disrupt Gorian's advance.'
Davarov sighed. 'I'm a cynic, I know.'
'Worse than Dahnishev.'
'But I have reason. Letting him ride out to talk to Khuran, if he really is with them, just gives them information. And what are you really hoping to achieve? No Tsardon is ever going to stand on these walls.'
'That is not what I want,' said Roberto. 'We just don't want them fighting with the dead. It has to be worth the risk. Think about it, what information can he really give Khuran that the king couldn't deduce for himself?'
it's your decision, Roberto. Part of me wants to string up Ruthrar as a warning. The other wants to push him out of the gates and let him do his worst. I don't know.'
‘I
hear you, Davarov. How long before the Tsardon get here?
'Five days, maybe less.' Davarov jerked his thumb over his shoulder. 'And Gorian will be in striking distance tomorrow.'
'But he won't attack.'
'No, I don't suppose he will. Not if this long distance communication he is supposed to have is true.' 'Harban has no doubt.' 'Now there's an odd one,' said Davarov.
Roberto smiled. 'Can't disagree with you there. He says almost nothing. Just that what he does say carries such authority.' 'And what does he have to say about all this?' 'He wants us to go and snatch the Gor-Karkulas.' 'Easier to kill them,' said Davarov.
'Not if we want to keep the Karku as friends.' Roberto sighed. 'He's right of course. Take them and we reduce Gorian's strength dramatically. But getting to them through the dead. Got to be almost impossible.'
Davarov nodded. 'Let's try the things we know first. Let him reveal his hand. It's the Neratharn side we have to worry about. No one, dead or alive, is coming through these walls in a hurry. Roberto?'
'Yes?'
'You're avoiding them, aren't you?' Roberto felt his throat tighten. 'Blame me?' 'No. But I think the big tall one is starting to get a complex.' 'Jhered has a complex about everything.' 'Come and say hello, why don't you?' said Davarov. Roberto shrugged and felt the touch of nerves. 'All right. Let's get it over with.'
Arducius watched Jhered greet Roberto Del Aglios and could feel the grief in the energy lines that flowed from the pair of them. He stayed back in the barracks canteen, sitting on a bench with Mirron and
Ossacer. They were all tired after the voyage. Mirron was still a little sick despite Ossacer's ministrations and Arducius was sure it was more than just sea sickness this time. From the look in Mirron's eyes, she knew it too. God-surround-him, they all did. Gorian was near and he drove his dead before him. The facts lay heavy in the lines of the earth. Tortured and twisted everywhere, coiled as if trying to escape their fate.
The two old friends talked for some time in whispered tones before Roberto nodded, smiled sadly and walked towards them. Behind him, Jhered turned to them, gave them a meaningful look and fell to his own thoughts, a hand over chin and mouth.
Arducius stood up, his brother and sister with him. The three of them saluted him but he waved it away with a dismissive gesture. Ossacer was tense. Arducius knew why. It was all over Roberto's life map as well as in his eyes and his bearing. He was stricken with grief but boiling around it was anger, directed their way.
'Ambassador Del Aglios, we had not thought to see you here,' said Arducius, having to say something.
'No,' said Roberto. 'Thirty-five days ago I would have been surprised myself. But one of your kin has changed all that and we are all the lesser for it. Small wonder you are treated with suspicion here, at best.'
'I don't understand,' said Arducius.
'My brother, Adranis, is a victim of the evil of Gorian Westfallen and I hold the Ascendancy responsible.'
Mirron gasped. 'Ambassador, I cannot tell you how sorry I am to hear that.'
'Your brother was a great man,' said Ossacer.
'Yes, he was,' said Roberto. 'And had I not decapitated and mutilated him myself, he would be a great man walking with your bastard brother as one of the dead.'
Arducius swallowed. He would have backed off a pace but for the bench at the back of his legs.
'We are as disgusted by Gorian's use of his abilities as any man,' said Arducius. 'Our aim has always been—'
'Quiet!' snapped Roberto and the three of them jumped in unison. 'I have not come here to discuss the aims or otherwise of the Ascendancy my mother is far too happy to keep so close. My aim on arriving here was to demand your presence and for that reason alone, I am happy you are here.
'But let me get one thing straight. Every day, I regret a little more, the fact that I listened to you and did not order the killing of Gorian. My brother is dead because of my stupidity and so are countless thousands of others. So we will not be sitting at the same table and we are not going to be friends, do I make myself clear?
'You are here to destroy that abomination and all his bastard creations. That is all you are here to do and you will take your orders directly from either myself, or General Davarov. You will question nothing and I expect you to sacrifice your lives if that's what it takes.
'Ossacer what is wrong with you?'
Roberto glared at him with an intensity that would have withered a weaker man.
'We are here to help. And we are all saddened that your brother is dead. But please, do not hold the entire Ascendancy to account for the actions of one man. You have to accept that Ascendants are here with the same rights under God as any man.'
‘I
have to accept nothing,' spat Roberto. 'The very potential in you for this evil sickens me to my stomach. There is no redemption for you, merely appeasement. One day, I will be Advocate and will preside on the Hill. Do not assume for one moment that I will necessarily allow your work to proceed.
'Now get out of my sight and get to work on beating this enemy. I do not expect to have to speak to you again.'
Roberto stood daring them to utter another word. Jhered hissed through his teeth and Mirron led them all away. Ossacer opened his mouth but Jhered's expression gave him pause. None of them spoke until they were outside under the sun.
'How dare he speak to us like that,' said Ossacer. 'We have come in good faith to help.'
Jhered stopped and turned on him. 'Listen to me, Ossacer, and listen well. All of you. For all the support you enjoy back in Estorr, out here it looks like only I will stand up for you. Roberto is broken but his mind is clear enough. Do not cross him. The Ascendancy stands on the edge of a knife and to either side lies disaster. You fight now not merely to win today but for your very survival. Make me proud and make him think again. Because if you can't, it matters little how many you save here. When we get back home, you will be finished.'
'Hatred is as fragile as love,' said Vasselis.
‘I
wonder if she knew that.'
‘I
wonder what would have happened had th
e Chancellor still been alive.'
‘I
nstead they are buried side-by-side under the lawn of the Omniscient, Marcus.'
'And do we take any comfort from that?'
The two old soldiers rode together along the processional road, returning from the Principal House of Masks. The first legion was with them. The palace guard was a cloak about them. The Armour of God were an honour guard along the entire route. Across the city, the flags were lowered. Bells sounded flat notes. Horns played the marches of death. A melancholy symphony.
'The anger will return,' said Vasselis. 'We need to make the most of this opportunity while it exists. Get people moving out now the Advocate is with God.'