By the Sword by Greg Costikyan

Author:Greg Costikyan
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Published: 2011-10-28T13:01:06+00:00

16

Nijon sat idly in the barracks room, watching other guardsmen dice. He himself preferred to husband his half a salary, at least until he had figured out the game.

Brother appeared, dragging the still-twitching body of a rat. "That weasel eats better than we," joked one of the soldiers, looking up from his game.

"Keeps the rats down," grunted another.

"Something needs to," said a third. Recently, there had been panic-buying of bread and grain; rumors that the king's granaries were nearly empty swept the city. Nijon wondered if the rumors were true.

The captain looked up from the game and studied the windows and the angle of the afternoon light. "Change of watch," he announced.

Nijon sighed; it was his watch. He pulled on his cuirass and headed off to Princess Nlavi's chambers.

Detros stood before the door to Nlavi's antechamber, looking half-asleep. Nijon was not surprised; Detros drank ale at every meal. "I'm your relief," Nijon said.

"Thank Ptemesh," said Detros, shaking his head as if dislodging cobwebs. "I've been standing here for a mortal age."

"Anything to tell me?"

"If anything happened, I didn't notice it," said Detros, sidling down the corridor, toward the barracks-and, no doubt, another ale.

Nijon took his place, doing his best to look professional. The soldier's life was not what he'd expected; he had yet to see a domestic brawl, let alone a battle, and if Purasham had any conception of military discipline, Nijon had yet to note any evidence of it. Detros complained of the unrelenting tedium; Nijon was reasonably content to pay off his debt and eat three square meals every day.

No matter how bad the grain situation got, Nijon suspected, the palace wouldn't suffer any lack of provisions. The antechamber door crashed open. Princess Nlavi stood in the doorway in little more than her bandeau. "I won't have it!" she shrieked.

A bevy of servants followed, murmuring soothing words: "Come, O Exalted, see this chiton, is not the color lovely? The king commands your presence, and your betrothed-"

"He is a fat, disgusting slug," shouted Nlavi, stamping around the chamber. She stood before a stuffed aurochs head and glared at it. "I shall not-"

"It will be but for an afternoon, an hour. Come, don this raiment, that we may-"

She stood before Nijon and spoke directly to him. "You!" she said. "Soldier. What is your name?" "Nijon," said Nijon. A moment passed before he remembered to add-"O Exalted."

"You're Vagon, aren't you," she said, with slight contempt.

"I am of the Va-Naleu," he said with pride.

"Fine. I command you, carry me off to the rude tents of your savage tribe, where I shall rule in primitive splendor as your queen."

Nijon blinked. "Yes, O Exalted. At once, O Exalted. But I shall have to consult with my captain. And there is the question of supplies for such an expedition."

Nlavi turned away. "Bah!" she said. "Captains! Supplies! It is always so; nothing can ever be done. The captain must be consulted. It is under consideration. The vizier has referred the question to expert opinion. Don't bother

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