The Ten Thousand(72)
Jason and Rictus strode forth unarmed under the withered stick that was the nearest they could come to a green-leafed bough upon the field. They walked out across the sucking, steaming morass of mud and carrion which occupied the space between the armies and planted themselves there whilst the sweat stung hot in their eyes and the stink of the place seemed fair to choke them.
“Why me?” Rictus asked as they watched the Kufr lines and saw figures run back and forth behind them.
“I might ask the same myself,” Jason said equably. “Phiron speaks Asurian better than I, and Kefren too. My guess is, he’s so indispensable to the army’s survival he’s counted himself out of gambles such as this. As for you, I picked you as a companion for several reasons. You’re not stupid, you know how to listen, and you’re a big bastard who might be able to look one of these gangling fucks in the eye. Now shut up and prove me right on all counts.”
Their presence in the field between the armies had set individual horsemen to the gallop behind the Kufr phalanx. There were more horsemen there now; fine looking fellows in all the finery the Empire could provide. Jason stared at them and said; “I believe the King is there. No standard or chariot, but that’s his bodyguard, or I’m a blind man.”
“What happens if all this is moonlight?” Rictus asked. “What if they’re just set on finishing it today?”
Jason looked at him, cocking his head to one side. “We die fighting.”
Strangely, Rictus smiled.
The Kufr ranks broke open, and someone came walking out across the mud to meet them. He wore black armour, and as he drew close, they could see that he was Macht, clad in the Curse of God. Jason’s mouth opened in astonishment.
“What are your names?” the strange Macht asked. He was middle-aged, spare and lean and bearded. He bore no weapon, and stared upon them with a barely restrained hunger of curiosity. Jason and Rictus stared back at him with something of the same expression on their faces.
“Jason of Ferai; Rictus of Isca,” Jason said, collecting himself.
The man smiled. “My name is Vorus. I am general of the army behind me.”
This fell into silence, Jason and Rictus too thunderstruck to reply. Vorus looked them up and down, not without kindness. “You wish to negotiate on behalf of Phiron, I take it. Well, I am authorised likewise on behalf of the Great King. You may speak to me freely.”
“Phobos,” Jason said under his breath. “We wish to discuss terms under which we may leave the Empire in peace.” Still staring he added, “Our employer is dead, and now we just want to get home. Vorus you say—Vorus of where?”
“Son, I left the Harukush long before you hefted your first spear,” Vorus said. And more formally, “My King has divined your intention beforehand. We have no wish to see further bloodshed—the issues which set us at each other’s spearpoints have already been decided. Now it only remains to see how this army of yours can be repatriated as quickly and easily as possible. To that end, we wish to invite the entire Kerusia of your generals to a meeting tonight, down on the plain, where terms for your departure from the Empire shall be discussed. Would that be acceptable to your commander, you think?”
“I believe it would,” Jason said, and he could not help the smile that broke about his face. “I take it all parties shall be unarmed, and that the space where the meeting takes place be equidistant from both army’s lines?”
“Of course. We will prepare a suitable venue at once. The Great King will attend, with myself and two or three others. There will be slaves also, of course. You may bring your senior officers only; there is no need for a large crowd at an event such as this. Things become too easily misunderstood. What say you?”
“I think I may say on behalf of Phiron that we can attend as you suggest. Might I request in the interim, as a gesture of good faith, that water could be brought to us here by your—your people? We have wounded in our ranks who would bless your Great King’s name for a single sip.”
Vorus’s face clouded. “I am afraid that’s out of the question. We remain enemies in name at least, until your generals agree to some arrangement tonight.” His jaw worked, and he looked away for a second. “I am sorry.”
Jason stiffened but his tone remained perfectly civil. “I quite understand. We will rejoin our comrades now.”
He turned away, exasperation and relief warring on his face. Rictus paused a moment. He stared Vorus in the eye, that Iscan arrogance coming out once more. Vorus met him look for look a long moment, and then moved with an odd jerkiness, walking back to his own lines. He moved with the stiff onerous gait of a man ashamed of what he has just done.