Unholy War (46 page)

‘That doesn’t answer my question,’ Seth reminded him. ‘What can we bargain with?’

Ramon exhaled. It had to come out some time. ‘Well, how about gold?’ He’d managed to hide the quantity of gold they had, but the time had come …. They needed to be aware of what they had … well, some of it. ‘Most people seem to be fond of it.’

‘Gold? What gold?’ Seth scoffed. ‘We don’t have any gold.’

Jelaska gave Ramon a sceptical look. ‘Have you raided the calipha’s treasury?’

‘No.’ He motioned for them to lean in, then gave them the acceptable version of what he’d been doing since he got to Antiopia. ‘While we were still marching east, Storn and I took the opportunity to reorganise the stores. Instead of moving actual gold around, we extended the informal promissory note system and combined that with bringing the Southern Army’s bullion under our care. It’s a system the familioso use to move stolen goods,’ he added, truthfully.

‘So?’ Seth asked blankly.

Baltus understood first. ‘You’re saying you’ve got the Southern Army’s bullion in your wagons?’

Most of the Northern Army’s too, actually …

‘Of course, not all of it …’ he scoffed cheerily.

Everyone in the circle blinked.

‘And we still have it?’ Seth asked in a puzzled voice.

‘We do,’ Ramon replied. ‘I got it out of Shaliyah and we’ve been hauling it around ever since. It’s been hidden in the bottom of the stores wagons.’

Sevvie smiled at him at last. ‘He’s fiendishly clever sometimes,
my
man.’

He really hoped that meant their argument was over. ‘I’ve managed to keep it together since, though it’s slowed us down a little.’

‘I can see why you’d keep it secret,’ Jelaska commented after a moment’s silence. ‘After all, legionaries aren’t famous for restraint over certain things.’

‘Gold, women and drink,’ Baltus put in, clicking flasks with Kip. ‘My favourite things.’ The two men took a swig together.

‘But what did you plan to do with it all?’ Jelaska enquired, fixing him with her grim stare.

‘Oh, just make sure the troops get paid. And since Shaliyah … well, when you’re trapped behind the lines, having something to open doors with is important. How do you think we got a parley yesterday?’

‘Why wasn’t I told?’ Seth demanded.

‘You’ve quite enough to worry about.’ Ramon raised a placating hand. ‘It’s just logistics – a tenth maniple matter. My maniple are here to make sure you all get fed and clothed, remember?’

‘Why do I get the feeling that if this matter hadn’t come up, we’d have never known?’ Jelaska enquired acerbically. ‘It seems to me that you’ve been stringing us all along. Who even knows where the gold is? Did Echor know? Did his Logisticalus know?’

‘Of course,’ Ramon lied blithely. ‘If you’d asked me before Shaliyah, I could have shown you the orders.’
And you just try proving otherwise!
‘So unless anyone else wants to sulk about not being put in charge of the baggage train, can we please get on with the many more practical concerns we face?’

He leaned back and watched Jelaska give up, and that triggered the capitulation of the rest.

Heh! And I didn’t even have to mention the opium.

Seth Korion sighed heavily and rubbed at his wounded thigh. ‘Very well. Status report?’

‘We lost more than two hundred men in front of the gates, but few elsewhere,’ Jelaska replied, glancing down at a sheet of paper in her lap. ‘Sigurd and Wilbrecht are dead,’ she added sadly. ‘I tell you, I’m cursed. Any man I touch dies.’

‘I’d risk it,’ Kip said blithely, and when they all gave him withering looks he just shrugged. ‘What?’

‘I don’t play with children,’ Jelaska sniffed, glaring at him.

‘Bondeau isn’t back yet,’ Ramon reminded them, changing the subject before Kip got shredded.

‘But on the bright side,’ Jelaska resumed, her voice husky, ‘we killed more than twenty Dokken, and my summoned spirits captured the infamous Yorj Arkanus and Hecatta.’ Her voice warmed a little. ‘They like to think of themselves as pure-bloods, but it’s only through stolen souls. Neither could deal with
real
power.’ Her eyes met Ramon’s, as if to emphasise that he couldn’t either if push came to shove.

‘What do we do with them?’ he asked, then added, ‘They’d make good bargaining chips.’

‘Do you see
everything
in terms of bargaining value?’ Jelaska asked. ‘This pair have been wanted for
centuries
. Kore knows how many they have killed. I say we execute them,’ Jelaska went on, directing her words at Seth. ‘Without these two, the Dokken will fall apart. Hang their heads from the battlements and let’s see how much control Salim can exert over the rest.’

Ramon thought about the seething, raging pair in the cells below. Jelaska had Chain-runed them while they were still unconscious. Execution was too good for them, there was no doubt about that – but would they be more valuable still alive?

His train of thought was interrupted by cries from the men on the causeway below, who were shouting and pointing. They all turned their heads, and then slowly rose to their feet. On the east road, a line of dark shapes had appeared, marching steadily towards them. As they stared, the sound of Amteh hymns flowed across the water. Salim’s army had arrived.

INTERLUDE

Gnostic communication

Gurvon Gyle gripped the relay stave and closed his eyes to remove the distractions of the far-off city sounds and the slow crawl of sunlight across the floor of the tower room. The room was empty, but for the burned-out wreckage of Elena’s training machine, ‘Bastido’. He wasn’t quite sure why he kept the debris, but it pleased him to do so. He exhaled, and focused on a symbol – a secret Imperial Seal – which he conjured in his mind, then sent his mind questing, seeking another such symbol burning in the aether, that place that was neither of this world nor quite beyond it. Other presences hovered there, waiting.

he greeted them.

Mater-Imperia Lucia Fasterius was politeness itself. Grand Prelate Dominius Wurther gave a bland but distant smile, but the other presences were less welcoming: Tomas Betillon and Kaltus Korion merely grunted and Calan Dubrayle glanced sideways, distracted.

There was another presence, one Gurvon didn’t recognise: a rakish and self-satisfied face with luxuriant dark hair and a full moustache peppered with grey.

the stranger enquired.

Gurvon had to work to keep his expression impassive.

He looked at Lucia.

Tomas Betillon grumped.

Lucia chided mildly.

Gurvon cast his mind back to the initial meeting, when he had put to this group a plan for the Third Crusade. One of their stated goals had been the destruction of the power of the merchant-magi – led by Jean Benoit. He recalled Lucia’s virulent contempt for the traders, particularly those who had been using their economic power to buy magi children to breed with. He could not have been more surprised if he’d found Elena Anborn present.

I hope it’s not something I’ve done.

He quickly ran over his own position in Javon, but all felt secure: King Francis Dorobon had been largely pacified and unaware of his political emasculation. The mercenary legions he’d acquired were settling in, and supplies were flowing south to Kaltus Korion’s army as she’d demanded. The Javonesi nobility were divided and unwilling to elect a new king of their own knowing that would condemn young Timori Nesti to death. And Cera Nesti’s Beggars’ Court was doing an excellent job of dividing and distracting the Jhafi clergy. Even Elena Anborn’s guerrilla attacks had subsided. He felt cautiously optimistic that Javon was on the brink of becoming secure.

Mater-Imperia cleared her throat.

The circle of faces hovering in the aether turned to Dubrayle.

Kaltus Korion asked tiredly. The general looked strained. Since Shaliyah, his Northern Army had been dealing with bushfire uprisings in every town and city. Of course this had been anticipated, but it was still presenting enormous difficulties. It had forced him to abandon the frontier edges of his conquests and pull back from Hall’ikut, instead concentrating on a largely defensive battle as the Moontide entered its second year.

It probably didn’t help him that I stole three of Korion’s legions
, Gurvon thought. Adi Paavus, Hans Frikter and Staria Canestos’ mercenary legions had been bribed to leave Korion’s service and join Gyle in Javon, something Kaltus had been furious about, but Lucia had been cornered into ratifying the transfer after the fact.

Dubrayle began.

Betillon muttered.

Dubrayle ignored him and launched into a lengthy presentation filled with numbers and percentages and trends in currency and bullion, the scale of which was eye-poppingly large. Gurvon prided himself on having a head for figures, but Dubrayle’s monologue left him floundering. What he did understand, however, was that the Lord Treasurer clearly had thousands of informants throughout the empire – not spies, but counters and clerks and record-keepers, creating a web of mundane information that made Gyle’s own network – his magi-spies and some hundred ordinary people in a few key cities – look hopelessly inadequate.

Wurther interrupted.

Betillon growled.

Lucia smiled tolerantly.

Dubrayle looked pained.

Betillon frowned.
bad
in some way?>

Dubrayle said in a martyred voice,
should
know – all banks, including the Royal Treasury, issue promissory notes far in excess of their actual gold reserves. Money is worth what the markets dictates, and to ensure commerce continues; one must have confidence in the institutions issuing promissories. As long as that confidence and trust exists, traders will treat promissories as real money, exchanging them for real goods. That’s how the system works. We typically issue promissory notes at a ratio of ten times the value of bullion held – the private banks and some of the guilds do the same – and then we let the gold price handle the slack. But unauthorised Imperial Notes have shown up, bearing our seal but originating in the armies themselves. I’m trying to trace the origin of these ‘Crusader notes’, but the trail is tangled. Conservative estimates place the value of notes in circulation at nearly eighty times our bullion reserves.>

Gurvon whistled softly.
Okay. That, I get.
He glanced across at Benoit, wondering,
But should we be telling him?

The Guildmaster looked fairly concerned, but he noticed Gurvon’s sideways look and addressed him.
twenty
times the bullion reserves – not
eighty times
the bullion levels.>
He turned back to Dubrayle.

Dubrayle resumed the narrative.

Kaltus Korion sniffed.

Dubrayle vowed with the intensity of a knight pledging his honour in a duel.

Benoit preened unselfconsciously.

He looked enquiringly at Dubrayle and then at Lucia.

Lucia considered the question for a moment, and then said firmly,

Benoit replied,

Gurvon caught his breath.
Could it truly go so far? I thought just our saving were at stake?

Dubrayle looked grave.

Gurvon asked.

Dubrayle pulled a face.

In other words, yes: we’re all going to take a hit.

Lucia looked around the circle.
anyone
what you’re doing: if they’re not your nearest and most beloved, they do not matter. If the market panics, you will lose badly. It is as Calan says: confidence must be sustained. Do you all understand?>

Dubrayle looked at Gurvon and smiled wryly.

And bugger everyone else
…

He nodded to show he understood.

Presumably Benoit had threatened to go public if he wasn’t given a role in managing the situation, Gurvon guessed.
Thank Kore my imperial contract for the plan stipulated that I’m to be paid in bullion
. His gold was due to be shipped to Javon by Jusst & Holsen in a few weeks, after numerous delays.

Lucia said lightly.

Jean Benoit put in.

Gurvon watched in fascination, as Lucia and Wurther struggled to contain a sick look that crawled over their faces. Then Lucia’s matronly mask descended and her voice was steely as she replied,

Benoit pursed his lips, then smiled ruefully.

Lucia replied in a voice that suggested that she had no wish to discuss this further.

Benoit understood.

He tsked irritably.

Gurvon considered the Guildmaster’s bland expression.
He has Vannaton Mercer, I’d stake money on it. But why is this trader suddenly so important?