The doctor nodded, unable to speak as he had some miscellaneous implement held between his teeth while he prodded at the flesh round the bolt with both hands. Kiva stood. “Thank you sergeant.”
With a nod, Iasus left and climbed the stairs back to the surface world.
The doctor was mumbling and grumbling to himself as Kiva sat down among the others once more.
“What’s wrong?” the captain asked.
The doctor took the tool from between his teeth and pointed at the bolt with it. “It’s done considerable damage to the muscle, but it’s also chipped the bone as the head went through. I’m going to have to break off the flights and draw the bolt through by the head and it’s going to be extremely painful.” He produced a strip of leather. “Bite on this young man.”
As Quintillian bit down, the doctor snapped the flight end off next to the skin. For the first time in days blood welled up thick around the wood. Accompanied by muffled howls the man gripped the head of the bolt and in one slow, agonising move pulled the shaft through, accompanied by a gush of blood.
“There’s some infection here too. It may heal or it may not. If not, it’ll become a very painful problem. In the meantime, I’ll stitch the wound up.”
As the doctor worked, Quintillian looked up at the captain, a frightened look. Kiva smiled back as comfortingly as he could. “Of all our worries right now, I’d not panic over-much about infections.”
Chapter XVII
Danis was a small town that had grown from a tiny village due solely to the old Imperial courier post there. These days, of course, the post served only as a tavern with a few rooms for rent. The serving girl dreamed of moving to the bigger cities where she could push the limits of her ability and perhaps become a dancer or a musician in one of the great Inns. She’d always had some talent in both and carrying trays of food and drink around tables and rooms to lecherous perverts was not how she’d seen her future. Take this group, she thought as she reached the top of the stairs and approached the door. The young one was nice in an exotic sort of way, but the others were just ugly, hairy and smelly. They must be brigands or something. She swallowed nervously as she reached out to knock on the door, but stayed her hand as she heard the words being spoken within.
“He’s a fucking Emperor” the muffled conversation declared. “We can’t just leave him to rot!”
Her eyes wide, Sathina placed the tray as quietly as she could on the table on the landing and leaned closer to the door, holding her breath.
“I appreciate your feelings, really I do and I would like nothing better than to be able to spirit them all away to safety, but you’re talking about the biggest city in the world and the largest army in the Empire. Even with all of us, there are perhaps fifty or sixty men. Given time we could perhaps drum up a hundred more, but by then they’ll be long dead. How long do you think Velutio will let them live. I would be very surprised if they’re not dead already.”
Velutio? Emperor? Sathina wondered whether to go and see the boss. She reached down to collect the tray and at that moment the door slammed open and a hand the size of a side of beef grasped her wrist and pulled her inside. The door slammed shut behind her before she had time to gasp and the big brute holding her gestured at the door. “Agkhh! Akh!” There was something wrong with his throat. She’d wondered earlier why he wore the scarf pulled up to his chin like that.
She glanced round in a panic. Four men sat at the table as well as the big man by her side. The young one was eastern, a swarthy dark handsome face and a graceful body clad in black. To his side sat a man in ill-matched armour with an ugly scar closing one eye. To the other side a large dark-skinned man sat next to an older one. Neither looked very savoury.
“Jorun, put her down.”
The big man let go of her arm and Sathina turned for the door, but he reached out and held it shut.
The grizzled old one smiled at her. “I’m sorry my dear, but unfortunately we can’t let you go right now.”
“I didn’t hear nothing” she blurted out. “Honestly!”
The smile stayed. “I’m sure, but you see we have to be very careful at the moment.” He stood and crossed the room, fumbling in a pouch at his belt. She panicked and tried to back away, but the big one called Jorun wouldn’t let her. She flailed as best she could with her arms to keep the old pervert at bay. His smile widened. “You really don’t need to worry. I’m not about to rape you and I don’t want to hurt you. In fact, I’m a doctor” he said, holding out something the size of a cherry tomato wrapped in dark leaved. “This will just help you sleep for a while.”
She continued to flail and the smile fell from his face. “I’m running out of patience, woman. Either swallow this or Jorun will have to do it the hard way.”
She stopped flailing, but her eyes held the same panic. Jorun held her arms and Mercurias popped the pill into her mouth and held it and her nose shut. Her eyes bulged in terror but, restrained and short of breath she swallowed involuntarily and the pill disappeared. Mercurias grinned. “Just like trying to get you lot to take medicine, Athas.”
Jorun continued to hold her for a minute until it became obvious to him that her body was going limp. Gently he picked her up and placed her on one of the room’s twin beds before opening the door again and retrieving the tray of food.
Taking his seat, Mercurias frowned. “Highness, your men are renowned for their subtlety. Surely there’s something you can do? “
Ashar shook his head. Not at this time. I’ve been in contact with my men in the city. They tell me that two of them are wounded: the young one and Quintillian. They’re unarmed and have been imprisoned in the bowels of the palace. If my men thought it was at all possible they would have said so. Gods, apart from Jorun, we’ve all been in that palace and we all know what we’re up against. Our only hope is that they bring them out into the open. Do you think Velutio will want them humiliated publicly?”
Athas shook his head. “He won’t want any publicity over there being an heir to the Empire, let alone the fact that he will be killing that heir.” He frowned. “And of course, general Caerdin is a name to be reckoned with too.”
The prince sighed. “Then we’re at a dead end, but whatever happens we need to get to the city. I’ll send orders for the rest of my men to recall and join us.”
Mercurias shook his head. “No, don’t do that. Tythias, you need to send a couple of men round the coast to try and hook up with Filus’ and Sithis’ units and we’ll have to do with whoever we have. If we can get Kiva and Quintillian and the others out of there, we’ll need everyone’s support afterward.” He glowered darkly. “And if we can’t, we’re going to need a sizeable force in order to separate Velutio’s head from his body.”
Tythias nodded. “I’ll have two men ride out at first light. Have you sent word to Brendan and Marco?”
The prince nodded.
“Very well” said Athas, reaching out for one of the plates on the tray. “We’ll get to the city and then see what we can do. Have your men found somewhere safe we can hole up there?”
Another nod. “We’ve had a safe house in Velutio since the days of Quintus. Let’s just hope we’re in time to do something about it.”
* * *
In the poor light of the cell Sabian smiled. “What would you have done if they’d actually had cavalry though?” He proffered the jug to Kiva again, who nodded. The commander refilled the mug and then passed the jug across to Alessus, who refilled the other three.
Kiva shrugged. “They didn’t. If they had by some miraculous method managed to get their horses through the forest in less than a day, they’d never have been able to field them effectively in such a confined space anyway. If I’d thought for a moment they could’ve done, we’d have had plenty of time to set some extra defences up, but sometimes it’s better to give an army the night before a battle to drink and relax.”