The Eagles' Brood

XXIV

I awoke to the sound of a door opening, and I heard Popilius say, "How is he?"

Another voice, this one belonging to the medic, Lucanus, answered him. "Still asleep."

"Will he be well when he wakes?"

"I think so. He was exhausted. His father's death was hard for him to take."

"So was that whoreson priest. I should have let Merlyn kill him."

"No, Popilius, you did the right thing. He will thank you when he wakes up."

"Hah! You think so? I doubt it. Few men earn thanks by felling their Commanders, especially when they knock them cold in front of their troops."

"Nonsense, this was a special case. Commander Merlyn was not himself."

"Aye, perhaps. We'll see. What was that stuff you made him drink? He's been asleep for more than ten hours."

I heard Lucanus rise to his feet as he answered, "A potion to bring on sleep. He needed it."

I opened my eyes. I was on my cot in my own quarters and they were standing by my table, looking at me in the light of a flickering lamp. Lucanus spoke to me before I could move. "Don't try to move, Commander Merlyn. It might hurt."

I blinked at him and tried to speak, but my tongue was clogged. I swallowed, thickly, thinking that I could feel no pain. I tried again. My voice sounded rusty. "Why should it hurt?"

"Because I drugged you. Your head might be sore. Your body will ache too, because of all the bruising you sustained yesterday, one way and another."

I closed my eyes again. "Internal bleeding," I said. "You said that is what causes bruises, didn't you?"

"Yes, I did." I could hear surprise in his voice that I should remember.

"What news of Uther? Has he returned?"

"No, not yet." Lucanus turned away from me, picking up a jug from beside the bed. "There's been no word of him at all, but you know Uther better than I do. He will not come back until he has decided there is no further profit in following the enemy." That was true, and I accepted it.

"Popilius," I said, "When you attacked me, as I was about to kill the priest, I was awaiting a summons from my uncle's house. What did you do about it?"

"Nothing, Commander. I didn't have to. It has not come yet. The house has been silent since you left. The watch has changed twice and is about to change again."

I lay motionless, my mind racing as I tried to imagine what might have happened in the house where the hostages were held. I gave up. "The watch is about to change again? What hour of night is it?"

"The last. An hour before dawn."

I swallowed again and Lucanus brought me some wine mixed with water, which eased the pain in my throat. "Why did you stop me from killing the priest, Popilius?"

He did not answer for several moments, then, "The man is mad, Commander. It would have been murder, and you would have regretted it, I thought, no matter what the provocation."

I absorbed that. I had been mad myself for a short time there in the rain.

"You had time to think all that?" I asked him.

"Well, no, Commander. I didn't have time to think it, not in words. I just knew."

I took a deep breath and could sense Popilius holding his breath. "Well, your instinct was sound, my friend," I aid.

"What you did was correct. I would have regretted the killing, surely. We will speak no more of it, you and I. Forget it happened, but accept my thanks."

I raised my head cautiously without ill effect and brought myself gently to a sitting position before lowering my feet carefully to the floor. Both men watched me carefully; neither moved. I took a deep breath.

"How do you feel?" Lucanus asked.

"A few twinges here and there," I answered. "Popilius is a large man."

"It was not only Popilius. You had some imperial purple bruises when they brought you here."

I grinned, tentatively, stretching gently as I did so. "Yes," I said, remembering the battle on the plain, "I rolled around quite a lot yesterday. Have you two been awake all night?"

Lucanus's face actually broke into a smile. "No, Commander. We have both had some sleep, though not as much as you."

"Good." I moved a shoulder joint exploratively. "I could use a steam. The bath house wasn't burned. Does it still work?"

"Aye, Commander." Popilius was smiling too, relieved that I bore him no grudge.

"Then I'll try it, if the furnaces are hot. If I am summoned, that's where you'll find me. By the way, where is the priest now?"

"Far away, Commander. I had him tied back to back with his companion, threw them in a wagon and had them escorted from the Colony."

"Excellent! You have an aptitude for doing exactly the right thing on your own initiative, Popilius. Some day it will get you into terrible trouble. Now, where are my clothes?"

I wrapped myself very slowly and carefully in some heavy woolen sheets, trying in vain to move without causing myself pain, and made my way through the darkness to the bath house, where I spent a blissful hour in steam and hot water, floating in the dark like an infant in its mother's womb, and thinking deeply.

It was almost full daylight as I approached Uncle Varrus's house again, and I arrived there in time to meet a soldier who was setting out to look for me. I presented myself to the centurion in charge of the guard, who pointed wordlessly to the open doors of the house.

"When did that happen?"

"A few moments ago, Commander. One moment they were closed, the next they were open."

"Did you see anyone? Hear anything?"

"No sir, nothing at all, except the open doors."

"I see. Well, we'll wait." As I said the words I saw movement in the shadows beyond the open doorway and the body of a man fell out into the courtyard. I felt the centurion stiffen and start to react and I caught him by the arm. "Wait, Centurion. I expected this. There's more to come."

There were. Eleven more bodies soon sprawled in a pile. I stepped forward and approached the doors. There was no further movement from within.

"Caspar! Are you listening?"

"I am."

"I will send a centurion to bring the Hibernian prisoner. While he is doing that, I will also have my men approach in pairs and remove these bodies. After that is done, we will make final arrangements for the release of my aunt. As soon as you have the Hibernian, I expect immediate release of the other hostages."

"As you wish."

I called the centurion of the guard to me and issued him his instructions. He saluted and set off, and I turned to follow him. Caspar's voice stopped me.

"Merlyn!"

I turned back towards him.

"You have a reputation for trickery," he said, and I could hear a warning in his tone. "You also have one for honesty, but I have no wish to expose myself to that any more than is necessary. From now on we will keep this door between us when we talk."

"Why, Caspar? Do you fear for your safety while you still hold my aunt?"

"No, but I fear your wiles. I would rather be sure than dead."

I put iron into my voice. "Caspar, I guarantee you, personally, that you will come to no ill before these negotiations are over."

"I choose to disbelieve you, Caius Merlyn."

"Then so be it. That is your misfortune. The liar's tragedy is that he can never believe anyone else. I'll be back shortly. Hide as much as you want, wherever you wish to. You are safe for now, but I swear to you, Caspar, that for the murder of my father your life will end at my hands eventually."