His appearance, there upon the barricaded bridge, riding with all the studied casualness of a guest arriving at a banquet, was startling enough in itself. Yet it wasn’t that that held my attention. Rather, it was the realisation that I’d met this man before.
“Senator Gailus,” cried Alvantes from behind me. “This is a genuinely unexpected pleasure.”
Yes, that was it, Gailus. I’d met him during my and Alvantes’s ill-fortuned trip to Pasaeda; indeed, it was thanks to his assistance that we’d left with our heads. Gailus was an acquaintance of Alvantes’s father — or had been, rather, until Alvantes Senior’s brutal murder at the hands of the King’s assassins.
“Lunto Alvantes,” called back Gailus, his voice firm despite its fluty, birdcall pitch. “It’s good to see you again, my boy. I offer my deepest condolences as to the death of your father. I hope you’ll believe me when I say that it’s shaken us all to our very cores.”
“Thank you,” replied Alvantes, and the emotion tugging at the edges of his voice was unmistakable.
“But what of Captain Ondeges?” asked Gailus, over the tap of his horse’s hooves upon the cobbles. “Is he not here with you?”
“As far as we know,” replied Alvantes, “he’s left the city to side with the King.”
“That’s disappointing,” said Gailus, with a shake of his frail head. “Still, it may be that his motives are better than you give him credit for.”
He drew his horse up before us, and his men fanned into a semicircle behind him. “I wish there were time for pleasantries,” he continued, “however you know better than I that time is short.” Looking around, he took in the considerable crowd gathered beyond the bridge. “You represent the defenders of this city, yes? Then what I have to say concerns all of you… and may even provide a little comfort. Do I have your permission to disclose my news, Lunto?”
Alvantes glanced at Estrada and, to my surprise, at Mounteban as well. When neither offered any comment, he said to Gailus, “Of course. If you’ve come so far to tell it, I’ve no doubt it must be important.”
“Oh, imperative,” Gailus agreed, “vital beyond measure.” Glancing around once more, Gailus raised his voice to a more oratory volume. “This war is being fought without the backing of the Pasaedan Senate,” he exclaimed, “and so is unconstitutional. In fact, since the assassination of Senator Alvantes, the Senate has temporarily withdrawn its support from the Crown. The King is here, in short, against the laws of his own land and against the will of his people.”
It took a long moment for that to sink into the crowd, no doubt because most of them were unfamiliar with the intricacies of Ans Pasaedan politics. I hadn’t quite followed what Gailus had said either, but I’d gathered enough during my time in Pasaeda to understand the point: the King wasn’t supposed to go running around making wild decisions and picking fights without the say of the Senate, and the Senate had had enough.
As everyone at last reached the same conclusion as I had, there arose a ragged cheer. I didn’t join in. Whatever the Senate might think, their disapproval hadn’t stopped Panchessa bringing his armies to the walls of Altapasaeda, so what good could it do now?
“I’ve come here to negotiate with his highness,” said Gailus, once the applause had subsided. “And to tell him that if he continues with this course of action, he will not be welcomed into Pasaeda upon his return.”
A coup, then, was it? Well that was more interesting — but would it be enough to distract Panchessa, when he’d already come this far? Most of those listening seemed to think so, for there came a second cheer, more certain than the first.
As silence once more descended, Alvantes moved closer to Gailus. “You’ve brought good news indeed,” he said, “and we’re grateful. But you should rest now. You must be exhausted.”
“And what if Panchessa should attack at dawn?” replied Gailus. “No, I must see him as soon as possible. He must know that his people won’t tolerate this scandalous war. Only brief me on what I need to know and I’ll be gone.”
“Then at least take a coach the last distance,” suggested Estrada.
Gailus nodded. “Gracious of you, my lady. I think that’s a luxury I can afford myself, at least.”
He dismounted, and Alvantes nodded to one of his own men to take the senator’s horse. I was annoyed when Alvantes picked out the coach I’d arrived in, the one I was still waiting beside, apparently unnoticed in the darkness beyond the torchlight.
Then, as Gailus was stepping towards the door Alvantes held for him, he said softly, “There’s something else… something I didn’t want to say in front of your troops.”
Alvantes paused. “Go on.”
“There have been rumours for months now that the King’s health was poor. After he left, we finally managed to convince one of his physicians to speak.”
“It’s serious, I take it?”
“More than serious. The King is dying, and has been for months now. Who knows how long he has left?”
“Hence his recklessness,” said Alvantes, thoughtfully.
“Panchessa has always been reckless,” observed Gailus. “But yes, I can’t believe he’d have gone this far if he was in his right mind. In any case, that was the weight that tipped the Senate’s decision. The question of succession is paramount now. The King must be made to see reason, while there’s still time.”
Gailus looked up then, smiled and nodded as if they’d been discussing some trivial matter, and beckoned to his four escorts, who had already dismounted. “Well,” he said, “whether or not his highness is expecting me, it never does to keep your king waiting.”
A few moments later and the coach was trundling from view towards the Market District, with Alvantes and a couple of his guardsmen riding escort. As I watched them go, I wondered what all of these new revelations added up to. Could it really be that the war might be almost over, when to all intents and purposes it had barely started?
I didn’t want to put too much faith in Gailus; it wasn’t as if things had ended particularly well the last time we’d met. Nevertheless, I couldn’t shake the thought, the dim possibility wheedling at the back of my brain, that for the first time since I’d heard the King was marching upon Altapasaeda, we had a genuine chance.
Maybe I’d ducked my unlucky fate yet again. Maybe I could keep the promise I hadn’t dared make to Saltlick. And maybe, just maybe, this whole horrible mess would end without more bloodshed.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
By the cold light of the next day, my optimism regarding Gailus had dimmed and my doubts had hardened to a certainty. When armies were facing off, when mad kings were on the loose and the fates of entire lands hung in the balance, what difference could one elderly senator make to anything?
Not much, it seemed, for the morning brought no word from Gailus. That it brought no further attacks either might have been considered a good sign; however, the quiet beyond the walls might as easily mean the King had concluded that a few weeks of siege would make his final victory all the more effortless. Likely, Gailus was now in chains somewhere, or else his head was atop a pole before Panchessa’s tent, as a cautionary message to anyone else who might think they knew the King’s affairs better than he.
With the excitement of the previous night vanished like some hobgoblin, all I could feel was disgust at myself for daring to get my hopes up. If not everyone was quite as despondent as I, nevertheless the general mood was dour. There was much hushed discussion amongst Alvantes, Estrada, Mounteban, Kalyxis and the many lesser players of note in Altapasaeda’s convoluted drama. From what little I could catch, no one had any more idea of what might be occurring outside the walls than I did. The men posted upon the ramparts had reported nothing, and nobody could agree how long Gailus’s negotiations might be expected to take, assuming they were taking place at all.