From: Orosius Devinius, adjutant to Flavius Cinna, general commanding
To: Senior officers, all forward positions
Withdraw all extraneous personnel to rear lines. Sappers and engineers will be moving forward to secure the bridge zone against further potential attempts to cross.
Dev looked up from the note wearily and rubbed his sore knee with his free hand, tapping the desk with the pen. He had been back at Jalnapur for only five days and had not had even an hour’s peace to catch up on his sleep or recover from his ordeal in the north.
His mind wandered from the mind-numbing administrative work and beyond the room and the plain outside, back over all the days since his captivity.
He had climbed the rocks at the fortified valley’s eastern extremity with difficulty, constantly aware of the possibility of pursuit, though encountering none. It would likely have taken them in excess of an hour to come across the body in the orchard. It would not have taken them long to determine what had happened and where the killer had gone, but pursuit would be difficult and Dev had a good head start. Still, he moved at pace and only stopped once he was a number of miles from the camp.
Following the ascent of the six waterfalls, he had followed the river to the great lake. It had taken some mental arithmetic and study of the sun’s movement to work out which of the torrents that led down from the Channali Sea was the one that passed through Initpur, but in the end he chose the likely one and began his long descent. In the end he had chosen incorrectly anyway, but only just, and the river he followed down out of the mountains had meandered through a land he knew that neighboured Initpur.
He had found the going in the lower hills little easier for some time. Though he was no longer in danger from the Sizhad’s men, he was in Jade Empire-controlled lands, and had been appropriately circumspect in his movements. The few encounters he’d had with enemy patrols and garrison troops had come to naught, for he was Inda and dressed as such, and with his mastery of bluff and lie, he twisted out of trouble each time. Finally he crossed the northern tributaries of the Nadu River, careful to avoid conflict, for here some sort of secondary war was being waged between small roving imperial units on the western side and Jade Empire units to the east.
Once safely across and in imperial-patrolled, independent territory, he managed with some heated debate and a great deal of laboured explanation to requisition supplies and an imperial horse and turned south, following the great river to Jalnapur. He arrived at the war zone and the headquarters there to discover with some surprise that the general was absent. Cinna had been gone for a month, back to Velutio to petition the emperor, leaving his senior officers with instructions to hold their ground and not waste men in any crazed endeavour.
Dev had been held at the picket line for some time before his identity could be confirmed with one of the senior officers, but finally he had been permitted entry and was shown to the command post.
He had then been given only enough time to bathe and dress appropriately, and throw down a quick snack of bread and broth, before the officers began to bring him problems and decisions. Dev had panicked, though only inside where the men could not see. Cinna was the commander. Dev knew his military and his strategy but had no experience at all of command. Yet thanks to his position as Cinna’s adjutant, he was now the ranking officer and things were expected of him.
He had spent the next few days snatching sleep and food when he could and resolving issues and disputes, granting leave to some units, changing the positions of others, dealing with supply problems and supplicants from various Inda kingdoms. It was a trial, keeping him constantly occupied and denying him time to rest, though that was a bittersweet thing in itself. He needed to rest. He needed to recuperate from over two months – was it three? – of journeying, imprisonment and flight. He felt broken and exhausted. But whenever he did get those precious chances to rest and close his eyes, his mind filled with scorching memories of Ravi and his rabid followers. The knowledge that his dear, sweet brother had become this Sizhad tore at his heart, and he was glad that his father was not around to see such a thing. But worse even than that was the knowledge that no matter what happened between the two great empires fighting over the bridge, in the north lurked a new force that was biding its time, waiting for the world to weaken so that they could bring their faith at the tip of a blade to an undefended world.
His brother…
Dev sighed and leaned back in the seat, ribs bruised from weeks of travel and hips sore from riding. The pile of reports and petitions on the left side of the desk was higher than it had been when he’d arrived. How was that possible? He’d not seen anyone come in and add to it. Yet someone must have, because the pile on the right of resolved issues was tiny. Someone had taken them away to deal with. He could barely imagine what someone without his natural administrative talent would have done with it all. Probably best not to ponder too much on that.
He sighed and cast his pen irritably across the table’s surface, closing his eyes for a moment and wishing away the pile of documents before him. He was aware of the presence even with face lowered and eyes closed. Captain Gracilis was in the doorway, clearing his throat. Dev did not even look up at him. He knew the sounds the captain made every time he appeared there a million times a day, each time bearing a new problem for Dev to solve.
‘Tell them to go away, Gracilis,’ he said in a despairing tone. ‘I don’t care whether it’s argumentative officers, brawling troops, irritable medics or discontented locals, they can wait. I’ve too much to do already right here.’
There was an odd silence, and Dev looked up with a frown to see that Gracilis was grinning.
‘What is it?’
‘The general is back, sir.’
Dev felt his heart leap and could not stop a smile from sliding across his own face at the news. On top of every other worry and burden he had struggled with these past five days, he had been deeply, if privately, concerned for the general. The bulk of the soldiery, and probably the officers too, would not have considered the danger Cinna was in, but Dev had been there when the general first received his command in the imperial court. He had watched as Cinna pushed his luck as far as it would go and almost fell to the emperor’s insane displeasure because of it. And the man had gone back to try again, tempting fate. Dev should have spent those five days counting off the hours until the general’s return, but he hadn’t, for he’d harboured more than a faint suspicion that Cinna would by now be cold and white, lying in a burial pit somewhere outside Velutio’s walls.
The news that he was not only alive but had returned to Jalnapur was a balm to the soul and the most welcome tidings Dev could possibly imagine.
‘Where is he?’
Captain Gracilis jerked a thumb over his shoulder. ‘Just passed through the gate of the Fifth Cohort, so he should be here any moment. He comes at pace.’
That could be either good or bad…
Gracilis retreated from the doorway, leaving the general’s adjutant alone. Dev spent the time as he waited for the general arranging things on the desk to look slightly less disorganised, and tidying up his own appearance, which was somewhat dishevelled even in uniform and had been ever since he got back. Perhaps it was time to shave again too.
He heard the general arrive before he saw him and rose to his feet expectantly.
‘Devinius is back?’ Cinna said somewhere outside. ‘Thank the gods.’
Captain Gracilis’s voice came in reply. ‘He’s done an admirable job of keeping your desk clear, General.’
A snort. ‘Perhaps I should go home and leave him to it, then?’
Gracilis chuckled outside as the general appeared, dusty and travel-worn, in the doorway.
‘Gods, but you look a mess, Dev.’
‘Good to see you too, General.’
Cinna smiled, though it never reached his eyes. There was something there that put Dev on edge, though he couldn’t say precisely what it was. The general looked… haunted, somehow.
‘At least the damned rain has stopped,’ Cinna noted. ‘When I left for Velutio it was still coming down like the wrath of the sea god. I gather monsoon season is now officially over. Ground is still sodden though.’
Dev nodded. ‘Engineers tell me it will be weeks yet before the ground becomes firm enough for any real action.’
‘Good. The last thing we want is to have no reason to avoid a huge fight. Every day we cannot launch a major offensive preserves lives. I expect my opposite number is thinking the same thing and relishing the wet ground too.’
Dev braced himself. ‘You have news from Velutio, General?’
Cinna’s last trace of a smile vanished and Dev’s spirits sank. He leaned back as the general turned and closed the door for privacy. Cinna then removed his gloves and dropped his helmet and cloak onto a cupboard top before sinking into the chair opposite Dev and motioning for him to take the commander’s seat behind the desk once more.
‘It could have gone better, I’ll admit. I had to go, though. I was nearing the end of my tether here. You and your cohort had vanished without trace, the rain was unceasing, there was no hope of movement at the river, and disease and illness were starting to take hold in the camp with the poor conditions. I’d spread out the men and tried to keep them as healthy as possible, but the whole thing was plummeting further and further into the mire. I had to take the chance and try to persuade the emperor again. I failed.’
‘You live, General, and that in itself I consider a win.’
Cinna gave a humourless chuckle. ‘In my attempt to improve matters, I have inadvertently made things worse, Dev.’
‘Sir?’
‘I sought to explain to the emperor that we simply do not have the strength to win this fight. Instead of seeking a sensible alternative to this disastrous war, the emperor has promised me enough reinforcements to win it.’
‘That’s madness,’ Dev replied.
‘Something for which our beloved emperor is noted, I would remind you.’
‘But we already stripped the military of all the manpower it could spare and reaped a heavy harvest of able-bodied men from the provinces in the levies we ordered. Where will the emperor find such men for you?’
‘He is committing the northern army in its entirety.’
Dev’s eyes widened. ‘Surely not? I spent years up on the border there cataloguing our strengths and resources. We were stretched even in peacetime. And what peace we can claim with the barbarians across those borders is tenuous, all the more so under the current ruler, since they do not trust the emperor. If the army is withdrawn the northern border will crumble within the year. Probably just a few months, in fact.’
Cinna nodded. ‘All this I told the emperor. He is of the opinion that the barbarians will cling to their oaths and that the feeble border forces can hold the line. He is utterly mistaken, of course, but that matters not to the man who rules the world.’
‘For now,’ Dev added darkly.
‘Indeed. Even now the northern army is being mobilised and redeployed. The weakening of the border has begun. Even if it gives us the men to win here, which seems far-fetched to me, the empire will be in the gravest danger throughout. We are in an impossible position, Dev. The emperor is wrong, and his judgement cannot be trusted, but we are still hopelessly in his power.’
Dev took a breath to steady his racing pulse and straightened in the chair.
‘At the risk of heaping further troubles upon you, General, I also have grave news.’
Cinna slumped in the chair. ‘I wish someone had offered me wine on the way in. Go on.’
‘No wine here, sir. Not had the opportunity. The news from the north is dire. I sought the Sizhad as you ordered and found him in a mountain stronghold of impressive dimensions. He has become more than just a bandit king, General. The mountain people regard him with a strange mix of abject fear and mindless worship. He is a religious zealot, promoting monotheistic worship of his sun god, and his men seem to see him as some quasi-religious figurehead, like a high priest.’
No need to add that he is my brother. What help might that be?
‘And his force? He will not commit to our cause for religious differences, then?’
‘It goes beyond that, General. Way beyond that. The Sizhad has an army to be reckoned with. It is perhaps not as strong as ours, and certainly not as powerful as that of the Jade Empire, but they are well-provisioned, well-equipped, well-rested, and perhaps most worrying of all, they are absolutely fanatically loyal to their master. With that kind of strength, numbers are less of a factor, as you know.’
‘He cannot be bargained with?’
‘No, sir. He is a zealot who sees all the gods – western, Inda, even the eastern ones – as demons. He will not deal with any of us.’
‘On the other hand, that means that he will not join the Jade Empire against us either,’ General Cinna noted, clearly attempting to find a bright side to the problem.
‘General, the Sizhad only remains uncommitted as yet because it is part of his grand plan.’
‘The zealot has a plan?’
‘He is waiting for us and the Jade Empire to complete a war of mutual destruction. He is watching us weaken each other and waiting for the moment where even together we could not stand against him. If you think the people we are fighting now are ardent for their cause, wait until you see the Sizhad’s believers. They will burn the world to suit their cause.’
General Cinna twiddled his thumbs as he sat, frowning, deep in thought.
‘The world offers a plethora of ways to commit suicide, does it not?’ he said, finally. ‘The northern barbarians will watch the army pull out and it will be mere weeks before they pour over the border and ravage the empire. The only thing that might stop them is another invader. The Sizhad will crush us, then, to rid himself of the gods. And I still fear that the Pelasians will take advantage of the weakening of the empire and push from the south. The empire faces peril in every direction. And oddly the force against whom we are currently engaged in the most bitter war is the weakest threat of them all.’
Dev nodded. ‘What can we do, though, sir? The emperor cannot be persuaded, and unless he catches some dreadful illness and passes on unexpectedly there is unlikely to be a change for the better in imperial policy.’
Cinna suddenly rose purposefully from his seat.
‘General?’ Dev frowned.
‘When the men in power play the fool, Dev, it is the duty of men of action to act. I am about to break my oath to the emperor and defy him. Such a thing is, needless to say, suicidal, but something needs to be done, lest the world go up in flames before our very eyes. I will seek peace myself with the commander of the Jade Empire force across the river, independent of the emperor. I saw wisdom and reason in him when we first met here, so there is a small chance he might be reasoned with, and if so, perhaps we can still end this madness. And if we can, then I hope that when news of my rebellion reaches Velutio, other men of action will follow suit. The emperor is insane. He needs to be defied, no matter what oath we all took.’
Dev was nodding even before he stood.
‘I cannot ask you to join me, Dev. This is certainly the end of my career, if not my life.’
‘Men of action must act, General, you’re quite right. I am with you, and I am sure many of the officers—’
Cinna cut him off with a raised hand. ‘We are talking mutiny against our emperor, Dev. Such a thing will not sit well with many, no matter what they’ve been through. This decision goes no further than you and me and my personal guard, and perhaps a couple of officers I’ve known since the days of my youth.’
‘What do we do, then, sir?’
‘We seek a parley with the enemy. We need to approach the enemy general carefully, and speak somewhere other than the bridge. This is a delicate matter and, at this stage, a rather secret one, to be discussed well out of earshot of the men.’
‘Let me approach the enemy, then, sir. I will try and arrange a meeting between you and their general.’
Cinna thought for a long moment and finally nodded. ‘Do it. Take my guardsmen with you, but leave them at the bridgehead and go on alone. We cannot afford for the enemy to view your approach as any kind of provocation or trick, and after so many months of mindless killing, being accompanied by troops will probably just buy you a cannon shot to the face. You know this land. Find us somewhere mutually acceptable to meet and arrange it if you can.’
Dev nodded and hurried to the door.
‘And be careful,’ the general added. ‘While you arrange matters, I will approach the two men in this army that I believe I can trust. Before I left I set something in motion and it’s too late to stop it. I do hope it will not impact upon our attempts at negotiation. Still, nothing we can do about that now. We must just try what we can. To work, young man.’
A moment later, Dev was outside. His view took in the great plain of Jalnapur. The soggy land was hardening. Now, in more peaceful years, crops would be planted for rapid growth and quick harvest. Not so this year. The only crop growing over these months in that fertile soil was corpses. Soon the ground would be firm enough to move vehicles on, and then the world of Jalnapur would become a ceaseless barrage of death. The only thing that had effectively nullified the enemy cannon thus far had been their inability to bring them close enough to do any real damage. Soon, though, those great machines of destruction would be brought down onto the plain within range of the major imperial positions and the killing would begin in earnest.
But neither had the general been idle during the monsoon period. Despite the conditions, engineers and workers had been churning out weapons constantly for months, while master artillerists had been training new men in their art. The imperial army had arrived at Jalnapur with around fifty onagers and two hundred bolt throwers. Now, after a summer of construction, they had surpassed four times that number, ammunition being produced in such vast quantities that storage was becoming an issue. And while the forces of General Cinna had effectively quadrupled their artillery, the Jade Empire’s army could not have done the same. They simply had not the resources to create new iron cannon.
So the Jade Empire had the powerful weapons, but Cinna’s men had the edge in artillery numbers. The Jade Empire’s commander would bring his cannon down in the hope that they would win him the bridge, but the moment the ground was dry, the new imperial artillery would be moved into place, and the barrage they could unleash would terrify even the gods. No one on the plains of Jalnapur would be safe, no matter under whose flag they stood.
Dev swallowed. And that was another motivation for what he was about to do. Not just to preserve the empire at home… Home? Was that right for a man Inda-born? Still, it was not just about preserving the empire. It was about halting this madness too.
Overcoming his nerves, Dev set out through a field of corpses and blood to make peace.
The courier shook with fear as he stood outside the door. The four men who had ridden south with the tidings had sat, sour-faced, in the antechamber a short while ago and drawn lots for the ‘honour’ of attending the imperial court. Luca had lost. Cold sweat poured from his hairline.
‘The grey circle,’ the court functionary repeated. ‘Wait there until bidden to do so, and then deliver your report succinctly before handing over the appropriate documentation.’
Luca nodded. He didn’t trust himself to speak yet.
The doors opened and, willing his legs to stop trembling, the courier entered, marching straight to the grey circle. He tried not to look at the previous plaintiff, who was being dragged from the room by two of the imperial guard, stumbling and wailing his grief over some unnamed ill. Whatever had caused it clearly tickled the emperor, for the divine Bassianus was chortling his glee and waving beringed hands at his lackeys who were laughing in turn, though not with their eyes.
Gradually the hilarity over the departed plaintiff’s woes subsided and the room fell silent. The courier stood with head lowered, eyes on the floor at the emperor’s feet, just able to see the lord of the west and son of gods, but respectfully not meeting his eye.
‘Speak.’
Luca tried. His voice had gone, his mouth dry, tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. Slowly, he forced out a squeak, which became a word. He had to repeat it twice before it was intelligible.
‘Majesty.’
‘Go on…’ the emperor huffed impatiently.
‘Majesty, I bring word from Lord Divis of Castro Gatara in the north.’
‘Never heard of him,’ laughed the emperor.
No, thought the courier. Because all of your army is in the east and the only men left in the north are poor, petty lords.
‘My lord Divis regrets…’ – a nervous clearing of throat – ‘regrets to inform the imperial court… that the north is overrun.’
The emperor was suddenly leaning forward in his chair. ‘What?’
‘Majesty, the Gota came south in force. They left the mountains. There is burning. Raiding. Slaughter.’
‘What of my border forces?’ the emperor snarled.
‘Limitanei, Majesty,’ murmured one of the courtiers nearby. ‘They are little more than barbarians themselves. They probably joined the incursion.’
Luca nodded. That was very much the case. The few loyal units remaining in the north had been overrun in mere days, leaving the entire region at the mercy of the barbarians.
Bassianus, Lord of the World, shot his courtier an acidic look and rose from the chair, stepping towards the courier, who flinched with each step. He held out the missive from the north in a shaking hand, the wooden scroll case sealed with wax. ‘From Lord Divis, Majesty.’
The emperor stopped two paces from the shaking courier and snatched the wooden tube. Luca waited, praying for dismissal. The first blow from the scroll case knocked half the sense from him and sent him staggering to the side. The wood was hard, designed to prevent any damage to imperial documents on long journeys.
‘You have stepped outside the circle,’ snarled the emperor, and Luca, dazed and panicked, hurriedly stepped back in. The emperor swung again, this time with all his might. Luca felt his eye socket fracture under the blow, and even in the wash of agony and fear, made sure not to step out of the circle. The blows came again and again and Luca took them in silence, other than an occasional whimper, blood flooding his vision. At some point he collapsed, for he was suddenly on the floor, still in the grey circle, wondering how soon he might die. Finally, the rain of agony stopped and the courier realised that the emperor presumed him dead. He made no movement to disabuse his lord of the notion as Bassianus straightened, covered in blood spatter, and turned, gesturing to his court with the tube.
‘This is Cinna’s doing. He delays and prevaricates, and now he has forced me to strip the last of my defences. Because of his weakness we stand to lose the north. I will not have this. I will replace him. We will end this Inda war and quickly, so that we may reclaim the north.’
Luca felt himself being dragged from the room, watched the emperor recede, still ranting.
I did not die, the courier thought. This was a good day.