Chapter 66
LXVI
THE DOOR TO ULCISCOR’S WINDOWLESS OFFICE SLIDES open at a click of the Will key, revealing the man sitting comfortably in an armchair in the corner.
He stirs at my wary entrance, holds up his hands in a gesture of genial surrender as he stands.
A big man, taller than me as he unwinds his length.
Broad-shouldered and muscular, pale and blond.
A braided beard. A silver torc at his neck.
“Catenicus. My name is Baine Breac. You know me?”
I examine him. “I know Eidhin. I also know you are a Quintus in Military.”
“Quartus, actually.”
“That wasn’t the important part.”
He smiles slightly, nodding. “I am not here for them.” His Common is exceptional. Barely any trace of the accent that Eidhin has. “Quite the opposite.”
I squint at him. No telling if he’s being truthful about the rest of it, but I can see Eidhin in every line and motion. “Alright.” A quick focus on my sense of Will confirms he’s a Quartus. Gods’ graves. If he wants to hurt me, I’m not going to be able to do much about it.
Baine says nothing for a moment, and I get the impression his cool assessment sees a lot. “My son has talked of you. Not much, because we do not talk much,” he concedes heavily. “But he has an admiration of you. A respect. That is why I am here.”
Direct. Simple. It reminds me so much of Eidhin. This is the man who taught him. Who raised him to be the man he is.
And who, according to my friend, betrayed everything he believed when he submitted to the Hierarchy.
“First, though, Catenicus,” Baine adds, “it seems you have an injury that needs tending.”
Kadmos grunts, spotting the increasingly large patch of crimson staining my fresh tunic. “Rotting gods, Master Vis,” he mutters in disgust, pressing me into a seat. “Don’t get it on the chair. I’ll be back shortly.”
He vanishes, and Baine and I watch each other. Me wary, the large man entirely relaxed. My injury is more irritation than pain now, Kadmos’s tea as effective as always. “Have you spoken to Eidhin, since this all began?” I ask eventually.
“Briefly. We are both under the command of Princeps Redivius.” He sees my need for more. “He is alive, Catenicus. For now.”
He falls silent as Kadmos returns, evidently wishing this conversation to remain a private one. I’m reluctant to show the extent of my injuries to Baine, but the alternative is leaving him alone again, so I strip off once again and allow Kadmos to work needle and thread.
As the Dispensator fusses beneath his breath, Baine starts talking about the news he’s heard from outside of Caten.
Some of it Tertius Ericius has already apprised me on, but not all.
Redivius is one of four former Quartii to declare themselves the rightful Princeps of Military; he commands only a single legion—five thousand Sextii—but has them in by far the best position, ensconced now barely a day north of the city.
Only a fraction of the Septimii and Octavii in those pyramids are encamped with the army, so the lush senator-owned estates up there will easily support his troops for a while.
Kadmos soon finishes his stitching and rebandaging—the wound is, all told, not bad—and glances askance at me. I hand him the dregs of my tea with a reassuring nod, and dismiss him.
“So you’re here because Eidhin’s in trouble,” I say as soon as the door closes.
Our conversation thus far has left me in no doubt that Baine genuinely wants my help: as Tertius Ericius’s man, I’ve been privy to many of the discussions around our intelligence, and Baine’s information is more up to date than anything Governance and Religion have.
But if he was here to defect, he wouldn’t be talking to me. Which leaves only one real conclusion.
“Yes. Redivius is intending to attack the city tomorrow night. A few hours before dawn. He’s arranged for a diversionary force to hit the docks first, and though he would deny it, he sees the Cymrians under his command as more expendable than Catenans. Eidhin will be in the first wave.”
Vek. It’s not a completely unexpected move from Redivius: he has to act before the larger armies of the other Quartii get here, and he knows holding Caten will give him a stronghold with ample food stockpiles, legitimacy, plus—probably most importantly—access to the treasury, so that he can actually pay his men.
And while Governance and Religion have endorsed Quartus Laurentius, it’s really only because his single legion was already in Caten, and as a bonus he’s been willing to negotiate.
It won’t matter that Redivius’s name is on the list of traitors signed by his former Princeps.
If he defeats Laurentius’s forces and takes Caten, the Senate will almost certainly choose to recognise him over the alternative.
“Wait. The docks? How are they getting there if the chain … oh.”
“Magnus Quintus Otho controls the chain across the harbour mouth,” confirms Baine. “And Redivius has a fleet at his disposal. The idea will be to have each ship manned by only one or two soldiers.”
I calculate. Will-powered ships are fast and all but silent: not a terrible plan for an invasion, if it wasn’t a feint.
Good enough to draw most of Caten’s defensive forces to the harbour once the alarm goes up—which, with a waxing moon and probable cloud at this time of year, could be quite late.
“I could make this work. I’ll tell the Senate that Eidhin is the one who let me know the plan, in exchange for sanctuary. We could arrange for him to—”
“You misunderstand.” Baine holds up a hand. “He is not intending to defect. He doesn’t know I’m here.”
We stare at each other, me caught off guard.
“He’s … intending to fight?” I ask it dubiously. Eidhin thinks very little of Redivius; evacuating to his camp would have been the right choice, but I can hardly see him being willing to give his life for the man.
“Redivius is sending the Cymrians. Any man who refuses to go will be executed and replaced. And if any are captured or defect—if their pyramids cannot cede to someone else useful—then those pyramids will be purged. To ensure they are not ‘used by the enemies of Caten,’ says Redivius.” Baine’s disgust is undisguised.
My shoulders slump as I understand. “And those pyramids are filled with your people. Eidhin’s people.”
“Yes.”
“Then what can I do?”
“You could defect. Go with Eidhin. His retreating would be justified, if he was bringing you with him.” He sees my expression and smiles slightly, evidently knowing it wasn’t an option. “Or, you can meet him at the docks. Talk to him. He will not fight you.”
I gaze at him, a gradually dawning horror at the impossible situation he’s asking me to put my friend in. “My being there won’t change anything. He believes in the ddram cyfraith. He’ll commit himself to dust, as you’d say, before sentencing others to it.”
Baine pauses, looking mildly impressed at my knowledge.
“Maybe so. But he’ll have days before Redivius actually acts to purge his pyramid.
Time enough to at least try to find a way to stop him.
He won’t hear it from me because I have put his life above his wishes before.
But he listens to you, Catenicus. You must convince him.
” He exhales, and I see it, then. Weariness and desperation hiding behind that calm exterior.
He doesn’t have some clever plan, and he doesn’t have alternatives.
Just a father trying to save his son. “He is not saving them by dying. He is handing them to the next man to be used in just the same way—or if Redivius falls, maybe worse. Tell him that if he still believes in our ways, then their deaths in the service of his freedom are worth more than his death in the service of their continued imprisonment.”
I stare at the ground. Good, fine words. Maybe even true. Eidhin won’t believe they come from me for a second. “There’s no way you can get them out, once the attack begins?”
“No. I will be part of the main assault. Unless you choose to kill me here, of course.”
I almost choke. I don’t think it was a joke. “Eidhin might disapprove.” I rub my forehead. “Where will the main force strike?”
“Alta Semita. The housing for the Octavii and Septimii there.” He nods when he sees my expression. “Yes, Redivius knows. He has his spies.”
“That’s the middle of the city, though. Even with Laurentius’s legion spread thin, that’s not an easy target.”
“Redivius has full control of a Transvect, as well as the anchoring points at Agerus and Tolverium.”
I frown, picturing it. Tolverium’s in Lyceria. “That surely doesn’t run through Caten, though.”
“It used to be a little south. Redivius is repositioning the Tolverium anchor as we speak.”
Silence after that, for a while. My mind racing. I need to get this information to Ericius, and quickly. But I can’t tell him about Eidhin. This is war. My friend’s life won’t be allowed to enter the equation unless the Tertius thinks he will be an asset.
“How would I even find Eidhin?” I ask heavily. It’s an accession. I don’t know if I can stop my friend from dying. But I gods-damned well have to try.
Baine tosses me something. An armband with polished turquoise at its points, the silver finely worked into a tangled, endless knot. “He’ll wear this into battle. A symbol of our people.”
I nod. Memorise one of the stones carefully, then imbue it with a sliver of Will and hand the armband back.
“Alright,” I say quietly. “Tell me everything you know.”
WE SPEND THE NEXT HOUR IN DEEP DISCUSSION, AND for all my continued wariness of the man, Eidhin’s father presents himself as thoughtful, calm, and willing to freely share information.
He reminds me more of his son than I expect, albeit a far more relaxed version.
Not given to emotion, certainly, but less inclined to completely shun his feelings as he gives me everything he knows about Redivius and his plan. Numbers, timing. Targets. Tactics.