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"Yes, there is a reply. I will speak it, if you don't mind," Abivard said. The
messenger nodded and looked attentive. "Tell Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his
days be long and his realm increase, I have driven Maniakes from the land of
the Thousand
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Cities. And tell him I thank him for the other news as well." He fumbled in
his belt pouch, pulled out a Videssian goldpiece with Likinios Avtokrator's
face on it, and handed it to the messenger. "You men get blamed too often for
the bad news you bring, so here is a reward for good news."
"Thank you, lord, and the God bless you for your kindness," the messenger
said.
He repeated Abivard's message to make sure he had it right, then kicked his
horse up into a trot and headed back toward Mashiz with the reply.
For his part, Abivard wheeled his horse and rode to the wagons that traveled
with the army. When he saw Pashang, he waved. Abivard then called for
Roshnani. When she came out of the covered rear area and sat beside Pashang,
Abivard handed the letter to her.
She read through it rapidly. He could tell when she came to the last few
sentences, because she took one hand off the parchment, made a fist, and
slammed it down on
her leg. "That's the best news we've had in years!" she exclaimed. "In years,
I tell you."
"What news is this, mistress?" Pashang asked. Roshnani told him of the birth
of the new Peroz. The driver beamed. "That good news." He nodded to Abivard.
is
"Congratulations, lord or should I say uncle to the King of Kings to be?"
"Don't say that," Abivard answered earnestly. "Don't even think it. If you do,
Sharbaraz will get wind of it, and then we'll get to enjoy another winter at
the palace, packed as full of delight and good times as the last two we had in
Mashiz."
Pashang's hand twisted in the gesture Makuraners used to turn aside evil
omens.
"I'll not say it again any time soon, lord, I promise you that." He repeated
the gesture;
that first winter in Makuran had been far harder on him than on Abivard and
his family.
Roshnani held out the letter to Abivard, who took it back from her. "The rest
of this isn't so bad, either," she said.
"I know," he said, and lowering his voice so that only she and Pashang could
hear, he added, "It's so good, in fact, I almost wonder whether Sharbaraz
truly wrote it."
His principal wife and the driver both smiled and nodded, as if they'd been
thinking the same thing. Roshnani said, "Having a son and heir come into the
world is liable to do wonders for anyone's disposition. I remember how you
were after Varaz was born, for instance."
"Oh?" Abivard said in a tone that might have sounded ominous to anyone who
didn't know him and Roshnani well. "And how was I?"
"Dazed and pleased," she answered; looking back on it, he decided she was
probably right. Pointing to the parchment, she went on, "The man who wrote
that letter is about as dazed and pleased as Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his
days be long and his realm increase, ever lets himself get."
"You're right," Abivard said in some surprise; he hadn't looked at it like
that.
Poor bastard, he thought. He would have said that to Roshnani, but he didn't
want Pashang to hear it, so he kept quiet.
Peasants in loincloths labored in the fields around the Thousand Cities, some
of them bringing in the crops, others busy repairing the canals the Videssians
had wrecked. Abivard wondered, with a curiosity slightly greater than idle,
how the peasants would have gone about repairing the half twist Maniakes'
mages had given that one canal.
No one in the land of the Thousand Cities came rushing out from the cities or
in
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from the fields to clasp his hand and congratulate him for what he had done.
He hadn't expected anyone to do that, so he wasn't disappointed. Annies got no
credit from the people in whose land they fought.
Khimillu, city governor of Qostabash, the leading town the Videssians had not
sacked in the area, turned red under his swarthy skin when Abivard proposed
garrisoning troops there for the winter. "This is an outrage!" he thundered in
a fine, deep voice. "What with the war, we are poor. How are we to support
these men gobbling our food and fondling our women?"
However impressive Khimillu's voice, he was a short, plump man, a native of
the
Thousand Cities. That let Abivard look down his nose at him. "If you don't
want to feed them, I suppose they'll just have to go away," he said, using a
ploy that had proved effective in the land of the Thousand Cities. "Then, next
winter, you can explain to Maniakes why you don't feel like feeding his [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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