«I told you,» Romezan answered. «Victory atones for any number of sins.»
«It's not that simple,» Abivard insisted to Roshnani over stewed kid that night. «The more victories I won in the Videssian westlands, the more suspicious of me Sharbaraz got. And then here, in the land of the Thousand Cities, I couldn't satisfy him no matter what I did. If I lost, I was a bungling idiot. But if I won, I was setting myself up to rebel against him. And if I begged for some help to give me a chance to win, why then I was obviously plotting to raise up an army against him.»
«Until now,» his principal wife said.
«Until now,» Abivard echoed. «He didn't fall on Romezan like an avalanche, either, and Romezan flat disobeyed his orders. Till now he's screamed at me even though I've done everything he told me to do. I don't understand this. What's wrong with him?» The incongruity of the question made him laugh as soon as it had passed his lips, but he'd meant it, too.
Roshnani said, «Maybe he's finally come to see you really do want to do what's best for him and for Makuran. The years pile up on him the same as they do on everyone else; maybe they're getting through.»
«I wish I could believe that—that's he's grown up at last, I mean,» Abivard said. «But if he has, it's very sudden. I think something else is going on, but for the life of me I have no idea what.»
«Well, let's see if we can figure it out,» Roshnani said, logical as a Videssian. «Why is he ignoring things that would have made him angry if he were acting the way he usually does?»
«The first thing I thought of is that he's trying to lull Romezan and me into feeling all calm and easy when he really does intend to fall on us like an avalanche,» Abivard said. «But if that's so, we'll have to look out for people trying to separate us from the army in the next few days, either that or people trying to murder us right in the middle of it. That could be, I suppose. We'll have to keep an eye out.»
«Yes, that certainly is possible,» Roshnani agreed. «But again, it's not the way he's been in the habit of behaving. Maybe he really is pleased with you.»
«That would be even more out of character,» Abivard said, his voice bitter. «He hasn't been, not for years.»
«He was… better this past winter than the one before,» Roshnani said. Odd for her to be defending the King of Kings and for Abivard to be assailing him. «Maybe he's warming up to you again. And then—» She paused before going on thoughtfully. «And then, your sister is drawing nearer to her time every day. Maybe he remembers the family connection.»
«Maybe.» Abivard sounded imperfectly convinced, even to himself. «And maybe he remembers that, if he does have a boy, all he has to do is die for me to become uncle and maybe regent to the new King of Kings.»
«Absent assassins, that doesn't add up,» Roshnani said, to which Abivard had to nod. His principal wife sighed. «Day by day we'll see what happens.»
«So we will,» Abivard said. «One of the things that will happen, by the God, is that I'll drive Maniakes out of the land of the Thousand Cities.»
With Romezan's cavalry added to the infantry he'd trained, Abivard knew he had a telling advantage over the force Maniakes had operating between the Tutub and the Tib. Making the telling advantage actually tell was another matter altogether. Maniakes proved an annoyingly adroit defender.
What irked Abivard most was the Avtokrator's mutability. When Maniakes had had the edge in numbers and mobility, he'd pressed it hard. Now that his foes enjoyed it, he was doing everything he could to keep them from getting the most out of it
Wrecked canals, little skirmishes, nighttime raids on Abivard's camp—much as Abivard had raided him the year before—all added up to an opponent who might have smeared butter over his body to make himself too slippery to be gripped. And whenever Maniakes got the chance, he would storm another town on the floodplain; another funeral pyre rising from an artificial hillock marked a success for him, a failure for Makuran.
«Never have liked campaigning in this country,» Romezan said. «I remember it from the days when Sharbaraz was fighting Smerdis. Too may things can go wrong here.»
«Oh, yes, I remember that, too,» Abivard said. «And, no doubt, so does Maniakes. He's giving us as much grief as we can handle, isn't he?»
«That he is,» the cavalry general said. «He doesn't care about proper battle, does he, not so long as he can have a good time raiding?»
«That's what he's here for,» Abivard agreed. «It's worked, too, hasn't it? You're not fighting him in the Videssian westlands, and I'm not sitting in Across going mad trying to figure out how to get to Videssos the city.»
«You're right, lord,» Romezan said, using the title as one of mild, perhaps even amused, respect. «I wish you'd found a way, too; I'd be lying if I said anything else.»
«We haven't got any ships, curse it,» Abivard said. «We can't get any ships. Our mages couldn't conjure up the number of ships we'd need. Even if they could, it would be battle magic and liable to fall apart when we needed it most. And even if it didn't, the Videssians are a hundred times the sailors we are. They could sink magical ships the same as any others, I fear.»
«You're probably right,» Romezan admitted. «What we really need—»
«What we really need,» Abivard interrupted, «is a mage who could make a giant silvery bridge over the Cattle Crossing into Videssos the city so our warriors could cross dryshod and not have to worry about Videssians in ships. The only trouble with that is—»
«The only trouble with that is,» Romezan said, interrupting in turn, «a mage who could bring off that kind of conjuration wouldn't be interested in helping the King of Kings. He'd want to be King of Kings himself or, more likely, king of the world. So it's a good thing there's no such mage.»
«So it is,» Abivard said with a laugh. «Or it's mostly a good thing, anyhow. But it does mean we'll have to do more of the work ourselves—no, all of the work ourselves, or as near as makes no difference.»
A couple of days later a scout brought back a piece of news he'd been dreading and hoping for at the same time: at the head of a troop of Videssian cavalry Tzikas had delivered a formidable attack against Romezan's horsemen. As long as Tzikas stayed in his role, he made a formidable opponent to whichever side he didn't happen to be on at the moment. Since he refused to stay in his role for long, odds were good he wouldn't stay on that particular side forever.
When Abivard passed the news on to Roshnani, she asked, «What are you going to do if he wants to serve Makuran again one day?»
«By the God!» He clapped a hand to his forehead. «You're a step ahead of me there. He probably will want to come back to us one day, won't he?»
«Sooner rather than later,» Roshnani guessed «He's only defamed you, and you don't rule Makuran. He's tried to murder the Avtokrator, and he's renounced Videssos' god for ours. He has to be biding his time in that camp; he can't be happy or comfortable there.»
«He's probably renounced the God again for Phos,» Abivard said, «or maybe for Skotos, the Videssians' dark god. When he does finally die, I expect there'll be a war in the heavens over whether to torment his soul forever in Skotos' snow and ice or drop it into the Void and make it as if it had never been.» The idea struck him as deliriously blasphemous.
At the urging of both Romezan and Turan, Abivard dealt with Tzikas' reappearance in the field by ordering his men to try to kill the renegade whenever they saw him, regardless of what that meant to the rest of the fight. The command struck him as safe enough: Tzikas would not be commanding any vital part of whatever forces were engaged, for Maniakes would not be so stupid as to trust him with anything vital. Abivard remained disappointed that Maniakes had allowed Tzikas to keep breathing, but the Avtokrator must have decided to squeeze whatever use against Makuran he could from the traitor.