When Death Birds Fly

20

The surface of the black glass mirror swirled smokily, then cleared to its normal vitreous sheen. Lucanor laid it flat on the table and sighed deeply. Sigebert, looking over his shoulder, had seen naught in that surface save the vaguest of moving shapes. They might well have been shadows of his own fancy. Yet they had aroused in him a strange unease.

Lucanor sighed again as he emerged from his far-seeing trance, and Sigebert barked “Well?” because he could restrain himself no longer.

“Victory,” the mage answered. “Utter victory for Frankdom. Syagrius met the host of Clovis and Ragnachar north of the city. His army inflicted fearful losses-and was itself all but annihilated.”

“Ahhh,” Sigebert breathed. Then, suspicously, he added, “But is it truly so? How may I know?”

“I have said so,” Lucanor was so injudicious as to say. “Believe it or not, as you please. I saw. Syagrius has survived the battle and escaped the field. He rides for Nantes at this moment, with some three hundred of his Gothic cavalry. They will camp in the open tonight, I daresay. Having fought a hard battle, so that most of them bear wounds, ’tis unlikely they can continue at their utmost speed. Nor is a Gothic war-horse the swiftest of beasts, especially when it carries a fully armoured man. Yet Syagrius will not waste time. ’Tis a journey of some-what?-two hundred and fifty Romish miles as the raven flies. More, by road. Methinks he cannot arrive in much less than seven days.”

“Hmm. Remounts?”

“They lead some two hundred spare horses. That is another thing-sir; they will have to find forage for so many animals.”

“Not difficult at this season, and them constantly moving on. Syagrius can requisition what he wants. He may have met utter defeat, but it will take time for the stupid Gallo-Romans to accustom themselves to the idea!”

Frowning, the scarfaced Frank considered. Syagrius and his band must surely rest each night of their journey. Was high summer; there had been little cloud, less rain, and the ground was dry and firm. So, then. Allow them to cover… forty miles in a day. As Lucanor said, seven or eight days seemed about right. Sigebert promptly allowed a safe margin, and gave himself but five days to prepare.

Still, first things first. This time Lucanor had impressed him. Not being an utter fool, however, Sigebert knew that the Antiochite hated him. He considered. Suppose Clovis’s schemes had somehow gone awry? Was there not a possibility that Lucanor might seek to conceal the news for reasons of his own? Suppose the Romans had gained victory and Lucanor was lying… Sigebert’s eyes brightened. His merry smile of anticipation imparted a hideous twist to the scars on his cheek.

“Shall we see how your story resists a little pain?” He drew his dagger.

Lucanor shrieked for some moments, begged for mercy, gasped and wept, groaned, cursed, even threatened retribution-which was empty prating. He knew he dared do naught, for Sigebert’s protection was become his only hope of survival. Yet he could not be induced to deny that he had spoken truth.

At last, at blessed, merciful last, Sigebert One-ear ceased to torment him. He wiped the dagger clean. Lucanor lay huddled, tears mingling with blood on his face.

“I am convinced,” Sigebert said mockingly. “Such a craven as I know you to be had surely confessed to a lie at the first touch of the steel. My lord Clovis is victorious, then. And King-no-longer Syagrius rides hard for this city?” His laugh was short, sharp, ugly. “I can guess what he wishes to do here. There, get up, man,” he said, nudging the mage contemptuously with his toe. “You’re scarcely hurt. Why, I’ve merely nicked you here and there. The blood’s out of all proportion to the cuts. I took a sword-thrust through the side of the mouth and lost an ear without such blubbering.” And he left Lucanor, quivering.

Sigebert gathered twenty of his Frankish warriors. Thus escorted he went to the manse of Bicrus, Count of Nantes. Directly Syagrius arrived in the city, he would of course seek this man. In Bicrus was vested power to raise an army from among the local populace. The several counts of adjacent districts would follow his lead and that of Syagrius, if only because they had no wish to be dispossessed by Franks Clovis favored and would reward.

Sigebert had himself announced, with the statement that he came upon a matter of the greatest urgency for the kingdom. He added that he must see Count Bicrus at once. In short order, the count received the handsomely attired Frank.

Bicrus was another in the mould of Syagrius, though not so much man; a believer in the ancient values of Rome, and a soldier. He ruled his district with thorough competence. Was ill fortune that he should lack a subtle brain and yet have to deal with Sigebert One-ear.

“Well sir,” the jowly, big-nosed man said, unsmiling. “Of great urgency you spoke-for the kingdom, no less. It’s best in that case that neither of us stands on ceremony. Sit, and speak your mind.”

“I shall indeed, my lord Count,” Sigebert said, and mused, Oh, thou plain honest fool! And he watched Bicrus as he seated himself. Plain, indeed! A leather-skinned craggy face, three warts on his big chin, another on the side of his arching nose, and ears that stuck out. Honest he was equally as the Frank well knew, and of indomitable character-and a fool he was not. Bicrus, for instance, did not trust Sigebert one finger’s length.

“It concerns the rebellion of the Frankish foederati against the king,” Sigebert said. “My lord Count will have heard of it by now?”

“Against the Consul Syagrius,” Bicrus corrected, “and thus, against the Empire! I have received news that the Franks march, yes. I’d like to know how the word came to you.”

“My lord, I was once a familiar figure at the court of Soissons,” Sigebert said in a tone of faint reproach. “I have friends there yet, and a great deal of time for… the right sort of gossip. Word came to me, I dare say, but a day to two after it had come to yourself.

“Or even before?” Bicrus suggested grimly. “No matter. I am listening, believe me, with complete attention.”

“Possibly it was even before,” Sigebert agreed airily, as though it hardly mattered; as though it could be only the rankest lack of courtesy for Bicrus to demand why, in that case, he had not been informed at once. “I believe it was. Further news has reached me since, my lord, and in this case I am absolutely certain it will not yet have come to you. The battle has been fought, and the consul’s army destroyed. Utter victory has gone to the, Franks, under the cousin-kings Clovis and Ragnachar.” He added unctuously, “Alas!”

Count Bicrus whitened. “You lie!”

Sigebert affected to look shocked, and said naught.

“How can you know? Proof, man! I must have proof!”

“It will be yours ere long, my lord! The Consul Syagrius has fled, and now makes for this city with the remnant of his Gothic cavalry… a mere three hundred men, and five hundred horses. Doubtless he means to raise a new army here, to fare anew against the Franks.”

“I’ll give commands for the levies to be raised at once,” Bicrus said in instant decision. “The Consul shall find the matter well in hand when he arrives. God help you, Sigebert of Metz, an your warning prove false!”

“Softly, my lord Count,” Sigebert purred. “Softly! There be no cause to recruit the entire countryside. A mere one thousand men of training and experience ought to suffice. So many could whelm with ease the three hundred veterans Syagrius brings with him.”

“What said you? Nay, I heard. Treason!”

Sigebert shook his head. “Smooth timing is all in these matters, my lord Count. What was treason yesterday becomes mere shrewd foresight tomorrow. What appears loyalty now may well be declared treason in as brief a span. Look ye, the victory he has won will make Clovis’s support among his own people complete.” Mention of Ragnachar, Clovis’s ally, co-commander and cousin, was conveniently dropped. “He can raise a new host as easily as Syagrius can raise a new army. With great ease! The Frankish marches teem with wild warriors, but where can Syagrius replace the cavalry so thoroughly destroyed in this sad battle?”

A telling point. Syagrius, riding to Nantes at the head of three hundred men? Bicrus shuddered to think of the slaughter that implied. Why, the Consul had commanded thousands!

Always supposing this Frankish rascal spoke the truth. Bicrus considered it more than doubtful.

“Nay,” Sigebert One-ear went on comfortably, “since Frankish victory is a fact, wise men will accommodate themselves to it. The Church, I make no doubt, has already done so. My lord Clovis has been at some pains to enter the Church’s favour, and methinks the bishops will accept his rule. No bishop, after all, need fear to be deposed from his office by a barbarian who cannot read or write! For the count of a city, matters be somewhat… different.” Sigebert leaned forward. “Consider, my lord Count, the worth of earning King Clovis’s favour by seizing this fugitive Consul when he shows his face here.”

Bicrus controlled himself, though Sigebert’s smirk made it difficult. He spoke practically: “You have not explained how you come to know so much.”

“Yes. I suppose it is out of place in a humble customs assessor! Well, my lord, while I was highly placed at the court of Soissons, I was an agent for King Clovis. Aye, even in those days. Softly, I say! Hear me out! I myself prevailed upon the commanders of the Frankish soldiery to desert to Clovis when the battle was joined. Misfortunately, Syagrius began to suspect me, and sent me here to take up the minor post I now hold. Since Clovis has conquered, I can look to hold a higher place in the world again-not before time, in my opinion!”

He chuckled, enjoying himself. “You see that my goodwill as well as my king’s will be worth the having. Act wisely, and you can be one of the few Roman counts to retain his position. You will probably better it, an you deliver Syagrius up as a captive.”

Bicrus seethed. Before him sat a fouler traitor then he had dreamed could befoul his city. That he should invite Bicrus into his dirty schemes with the air of one who conferred some immense favour was not to be borne! It should not be borne!

The count’s face crimsoned. “You swine!” he roared. “I’ll crucify you-no, by Heaven, I’ll keep you prisoner for my Lord Syagrius to have the satisfaction of passing that sentence, when he arrives! Guards! Ho, guards-”

“Idiot!” Sigebert snapped. With no further talk, in two long lithe movements, he closed with Count Bicrus and drove a dagger into his throat.

So swift, so ruthless and so wholly unexpected was the deed that even the trained soldier of Rome was taken by surprise. He choked horribly, lifting a hand to the dagger-hilt protruding from the side of his neck. He hadn’t even known Sigebert carried one.

Sigebert watched him fall across the table, and thence to the floor. Rome kicked and clawed in his death agonies, attempting to drag himself to the door. His struggles seemed to go on forever. Even Sigebert was appalled, though he did find the sight fascinating. He couldn’t take his gaze from the stricken man.

“Guards!” Bicrus croaked.

Was his last word ere he shuddered and died on the tiled floor. He’d left a trail of dark blood across the room. It continued now to stain his clothes and spread over the tiles.

The guard opened the door. He was one of Sigebert’s Franks.

“Gods!” he said in awe, at sight of the corpse. Then he remembered himself. “All’s well, sir. The house is in our hands. These town-soldiers couldn’t guard a rabbit hutch. Why, we talked them down. Didn’t even have to kill anybody,” he added with some disappointment.

“Excellent,” Sigebert said. “Have two reliable men clean the blood and hide this body where nobody will see it for a while. Once that’s done, I’ll convene the municipal curia, or as many members of that august body as I can reach. My Lord the Bishop of Nantes must be summoned, too. Without the late Bicrus to stiffen their backbones, methinks they will see reason.”

“Not if they know who daggered him, sir,” the warrior reminded with the freedom of a barbarian.

Sigebert let it pass. “That is why,” he said gently, “I wish his body concealed for the present, and naught said. I shall inform the bishop and curiales that, when my poor lord Count heard of my lord Clovis’s victory, he promptly fled the city and has gone I know not where. You would argue further?”

“No sir. That’s to say-with respect, sir-” The warrior’s words seemed to lodge in his throat under Sigebert’s limpid hazel stare. “Will they believe that, knowing Count Bicrus?”

“Of course not! However, I can persuade them it is to their advantage to feign belief. An they assume the Count has indeed turned craven, they will more readily excuse doing so themselves. I’ll wager that ere they leave this chamber, they will have convinced themselves it is true.” Sigebert smiled until the warrior did. “Now do as I bade you concerning our late friend here! He’s hardly ornamental. His presence disturbs me. And return me my dagger afterward-cleaned.”

Later the warrior repeated those words to his companions, when they had carried out Sigebert’s orders. “Aye! Just that way he said it, with the Count’s body on the floor between us. And return me my dagger afterward-cleaned. He might ha’ been saying, ‘Have food brought me in an hour!’ By the gods! It’s in my mind that he’s right when he claims the city officials will decide it be safest to believe him!”

The man was not smiling; Sigebert, at that moment, was. Bicrus had proved stubborn; Bicrus had been efficiently removed. Sigebert had not deemed it advisable to tell him of Clovis’s promise to make Sigebert One-ear the Count of Nantes. He would, however, tell these others. Should they think to unite against him and his half-hundred men, they could whelm the Franks easily. Still, Sigebert hardly thought they would dare. Not once they knew they would have to answer to Clovis for it afterward!

Aye! By nightfall, I shall in effect be Count of Nantes! Ere the month was out, he would possess that title and authority in law, and be in high favour with the new lord of the kingdom as well. That, or he would be a rotting corpse…

It depended on the outcome of the session he had convened. Sigebert believed it would go his way. Even so, there was doubt enow to make his villainous heart beat high with the excitement of the gamble. It daunted him not. Unlike Lucanor, Sigebert One-ear had at least the courage of his own evil.