Twixt Heaven And Hell by Tristan Gregory Read Free Book Online Page B

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    ***
     
    Darius seethed inside, though not at the man before him. Lazarus was the only man on the High Council who could be described as supportive of Darius, and even then not always. However, it was not at the feet of Lazarus that the blame for these newest idiocies should be laid.
    “It is kind of the Council to take such time to consider the welfare of my soldiers,” Darius began in an effort at diplomacy. “But they are hardy, and dedicated. They will no doubt be ready to leave on the morrow next, as I ordered.”
    Lazarus heaved a sigh.
    “Your men,” he began, “have already been informed of the change in plans. General Mackette delivered them the news even as I left the Crown to find you, Darius.”
    They were standing in the center of a craftsman’s district; a place of tanneries, smithies, cobblers, and weavers. Here leather was stiffened and shaped into armor, swords and spears made, and uniforms stitched together. Darius had been wandering about the streets when Lazarus had intercepted him, enjoying the bustle of industry there.
    Now it seemed he should have hurried back to the barracks. Arric no doubt knew of his habits, knew that he would spend time calming his mind before seeing to his men. Darius had been neatly outmaneuvered.
    “Arric plays his games well,” Darius said. “In the field, bad things happen to those who play games with me.”
    “Enough of that, Darius!” Lazarus rasped.
    Several people walking by them glanced at the wizards, but soon decided they had better places to be than hanging about two wizards in a snit.
    Lazarus continued in a lower voice. “Even if you meant such a thing – and for your own sake, I shall assume you did not – do you have any idea what violence amongst the wizards would do to us? I am loath to even mention such a thing in public.”
    Darius was ashamed of his words, but pride would not let him show it. He waited for Lazarus to continue with his jaw set obstinately.
    “It is that rashness, that anger which works against you most, Darius. With these frequent outbursts – and talk of violence against your fellows! – you liken yourself to the Enemy.
    “We know all you have done, make no mistake. But great deeds do not make up for all the fears of the council. Ask yourself,” Lazarus said in a more conciliatory tone, “If all you knew of a man was the behavior that you have shown to us, would you want him placed in charge of the best men we have and thrown to the field where he is likely to do anything but what you need of him?”
    Darius heard the words and knew he should listen. Lazarus was respected by all, and – wonder of wonders! – respected Darius in return. But too many years and too much meddling by the High Council had deafened Darius to their ways. They offered words. Darius demanded action.
    “I hear you,” Darius said, not quite lying. “But it is not I who am the problem, Lazarus. I seem rash to a High Council that has been standing still for three hundred years, and I will take that as a compliment. I mean no offense – you know I have nothing but admiration for you, Lazarus. But if the Council’s ways become mine, I am lost in more ways than one.”
    Lazarus’s face was unreadable. He gave a single curt nod of his head. “As you will, Darius. You know I am with you, more than against you. But I cannot condone this divisive behavior,” Lazarus turned to the road that would take him back to the Crown. “Just remember that your actions may have larger repercussions than you realize.”
    Darius watched him go, and then turned as well, towards the barracks. Before he had taken another step, something caught his eye. Under the awning that protected the vats of boiling leather, several armorers were working on shaped pieces that Darius recognized would soon become greaves. Using the monstrous needle and thread that leather necessitated, the men were sewing small metal plates to the armor. The result, as Darius could see,