A voice caught his attention. Turning his head toward the path he saw Quintillian jogging toward him. It amazed him how adaptable the young man was. In just a month he’d become so entrenched in the life of the Grey Company that it was becoming difficult to remember what it was like before they’d found him. To look at him now one would hardly recognise the pasty, permanently unhappy youth that had crawled out of a thorn bush seeking aid and safety. A month of travelling in the summer sun had somewhat bleached his hair to a dark bronze and given his previously pale complexion a healthy glow. His muscles had bulked out considerably, largely due to the two hours of weapon practice a day the lad endured under whoever had time to tutor him. Indeed, the way he wore his swords; the hang of his armour; the comfortable pace when he ran all spoke of a man of arms. He’d become a soldier, there was no doubt about that.
“Captain…”
Kiva heaved himself from the wall.
“Septimus” he acknowledged Quintillian by the name the unit used on a daily basis. “Something amiss up front?”
Quintillian shook his head.
“Not amiss I think.” He smiled. “There are at least a dozen men about a mile away down the hill. Some of them are staying off the path in the bushes, and I think they’re waiting for us, but not in ambush.”
Kiva cocked an eyebrow. “And why’s that?” Obvious to him, but the lad needed testing every day in every way. The worrying thing was that he was progressing as a scout and a tactician faster that Kiva and the others could really teach him. He had a voracious appetite for learning.
Quintillian grinned. “A test, sir? Very well. Five of them are waiting on the path itself in the open. There’s so much cover in the area that they could easily have remained unseen to the last minute. Moreover, their horses are tethered in plain sight and without a guard, so they expect no trouble and aren’t preparing a quick escape route. I only counted two bows among them and they’re both on the road, not in good positions for picking travellers off. Shall I go on?”
Kiva laughed. He hadn’t laughed a lot in the last couple of decades, but for some reason Quintillian brought out something in him he hadn’t seen in a great length of time.
“Ok, I believe you. You know what you’re doing.”
Quintillian sheathed the knife he’d been carrying, a curious habit he seemed to have picked up from Mercurias, and his grin widened. “There’s one other give-away about them…”
Kiva raised his eyebrow again and the lad continued. “Two of the ones in the road are rather familiar. Big man with a shaven head and a heavy scarf round his neck and a smaller man sweating his life out under a bear skin cloak.”
The captain grinned. “So Tythias caught up with us after all. Still, it’s taken him a month. Wonder what he wants?”
Quintillian squared his shoulders and placed his hands on the weapon pommels at his hips. Shall I run out ahead? I wonder if he’ll recognise me.”
Kiva smiled. “I’ll get the rest of this lot and follow on. You take Athas down with you.” He turned in the direction of the bulky sergeant who remained transfixed on the path behind them and opened his mouth to call out but the sergeant pre-empted him without looking.
“I know… I heard. I’ve been traded to the boy.”
The big dark-skinned man turned and his white teeth shone in a warm smile. Again Kiva pondered. While his own relationship with Quintillian had improved and the two of them talked as though they were members of the same unit, there was always a strained undercurrent. He knew the boy wanted something more from him but the conversation had never arisen since that day in the temple ruins. As long as he and the lad travelled together, there would always be an element of discomfort that they would have to ignore.
The captain had always tended to spend the nights separate from his men. Not far away but separate nonetheless; he slept little and had a propensity to wander. Quintillian, on the other hand, seemed to have hooked up particularly with Athas, Marco, Brendan and Bors. The five of them were always together in the evening playing dice, telling stories or just talking. Kiva was fairly sure that the lad had been working his ideas of a return to glorious Imperialism on the company, since he was forbidden to speak of it to the captain. Still, that bunch were prone to romantic notions anyway so what difference would it make?
With a shrug, the captain watched the sergeant wandering off down the path with the young man by his side amid the flowers and bees and the gentle heat haze. It was hard to imagine two more physically different individuals. He cleared his throat. “Ok you lot” he shouted. “Pack up; time to move. There’s some old friends down the road waiting for us and I want to get to Carmana before dark.”
The company stood, stretching their legs and hoisting their armour and packs into position. As he turned back to the wall to collect his own swords, he caught Mercurias for a moment staring at him in an odd, curiously knowing way and made a note to ask the medic about it later.
By the time the rest of them were on the move, Athas and the lad were already down in the dip with Tythias and his men. Kiva crested the hill with Thalo at his side and was intrigued to note that still not all the ‘Lion Riders’ were on the path and in the open. A number remained in the bushes and, despite Quintillian’s good eyes, he’d missed three more that remained on watch around a half mile out from the meeting. What the hell was Tythias being so careful about? Who’d he angered this time?”
As Kiva approached the group on the road, he motioned Thalo and Scauvus to either side and the two ran off toward the scouts away in the trees.
“Tythias,” he said as he came to a halt. “Nice to see you again. What’s all this in aid of?” He gestured around at the Lion Riders among the bushes.
The scarred mercenary reached out and clasped Kiva’s hand. Curiously his customary smile was absent. Kicking himself for his over confidence, Kiva’s smile faded too in anticipation of the worst.
The captain of the Lion Riders stood beside the big brute he remembered from the Inn at Acasio. The mute made a hollow whistling noise and nodded.
“Tregaron.” There was not a hint of the usual humour about Tythias’ greeting and Kiva’s hand found its way unconsciously to the hilt of his sword, where his fingers played on the pommel. Tythias folded his arms. “I could have saved myself a lot of work if I’d paid more attention to your young ‘Septimus’ back in Acasio. I’ve been looking all over for him for a couple of weeks now without really knowing who it was I was looking for.”
A quick glance to either side confirmed that the Grey Company were all ready for trouble, though no blade had actually been drawn yet. “Go on…” prompted Kiva.
“We’re here for him, I’m afraid. Velutio’s paying a thousand corona for the boy that travels with your company and he’s not particularly fussy over the state he’s returned in. In fact, I think he suggested a preference for dead.”
Kiva reached out with his right hand and pushed Athas’ hand down, forcing the blade the big man was starting to draw back into the sheath.
“Whoever you think he is” Kiva answered, “he’s one of my company and you can’t have him.”
Tythias shook his head and held his hands out. “I was kind of hoping you’d have dumped him by now. I can’t pass up on a thousand, but there’s five hundred more for the unit he travels with that I’d prefer not to collect.”
Kiva smiled, though there was no humour in it. “Tythias, don’t start this. You won’t win. We’ve never fought each other; not properly. Anyway, you were a commander of men in the noblest service on the planet, man. We’re old comrades. You took an oath, remember?”