Travis Starnes
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The Sword of Jupiter (Imperium #1) - Chapter 4
🕑 Added 2017-12-16 18:27:13 +0000 UTC
Carthaginian Army
Zaracas rode wearily, surrounded by officers and courtiers, near the head of the army. He was trying to keep from sliding out of his saddle. Normally, he traveled by litter, which was much more comfortable and appropriate for someone of his station. Maharbaal had been exceedingly clear that he wanted to crush the Romans before winter started in earnest and ended the campaigning season, preferably with enough time left to clean up the remaining Roman settlements.
So, he’d forgone his normal luxuries and was riding with the van of his army, pushing his men with long days of marching. His plan for the campaign had been arranged so they would only need to contend with taking two cities, Glevum and Devnum itself. Once he crushed the small Roman force still guarding their capital, at least according to their spies, he could set up defenses to prepare for the forces the Romans had sent north, and still meet the Governor’s timetable.
The first part of the campaign had gone well. Better, actually, as one of their spies tipped them off that the Emperor’s daughter would be near or in the city when they attacked. These things couldn’t be timed exactly, of course, but he’d lucked out and she’d arrived only after he’d taken the city and prepared his ambush. His men caught the Princess’s escort completely unaware. The attack had not been a total success, since she had escaped, but that was always a possibility, and he’d prepared for it. He’d had Arvad and a hundred cavalry mounted and waiting. As soon as she and a handful of guards turned and ran, while the rest of her escort provided a rear guard, he’d sent the mounted force in pursuit. Arvad was a good man, and that many men to capture, or at least kill, the girl and her handful of guards, should have been a simple task.
He was already picturing his victory as he rode near the head of his army. In less than ten days he would be at grips with the Romans and add their destruction to his tally of victories. With the way the Roman forces were currently deployed, there was simply no way they could stop him.
Of course, Maharbaal would manage to take most the credit for finally destroying their enemy and pacifying the island; that was only natural. This was, of course, common. The Exalted One knew of the practice. He - or rather, his ministers, since so few were allowed into the presence of The Exalted One - usually made a point to reward the commanders who actually achieved the victory. As the tip of the spear, Zaracas was confident his name would travel back to the holy court. Titles, riches and maybe even a governorship of his own, perhaps in one of the Germanic lands, awaited him. All he had to do was win one more decisive battle.
He was imagining the victory parade in Carthage, him at the head of Maharabaal’s columns, when a scout rode up at a gallop.
“General,” the man said, slapping a salute.
“Speak,” Zaracas commanded.
“We have … we have encountered the remnants of Arvad’s men.”
The words drew Zaracas up short.
“What do you mean, remnants?” he said, glaring at the man.
The scout's eyes shifted nervously. Messengers who carried bad news often ended up on the sword point of an irate recipient. An old Carthaginian saying went ‘The bearer of ill tidings reports first to his commander, and then to the grave.’
Wiping sweat from his forehead, the man said, “Ten men from his detachment were stopped by our forward sentries. They were in full flight, telling stories of a god or a wizard, or something, falling from the sky and then throwing balls of fire.”
“Balls of fire? That’s ridiculous!” Zaracas said, looking first confused and then furious. “Bring these deserters to me. I will hear them explain their cowardice.”
Again the scout's eyes shifted.
“There’s more, my Lord. We’ve found the site of a battle. There were several dead Romans but,” he paused, gulping visibly, “my men counted at least sixty of our dead. The bodies … many have holes melted, clean through them. We found one of Arvad’s officers; or rather, the bottom half of him, at least. He was … I don’t know how to describe it. His body looked as if he had been cut in half, and then the bottom half fused as if with a hot poker in a wound, except across the entire stump that remained of his body. He was still astride his horse, which was burned black. We have yet to find the top half of the man.”
“How?” Zaracas said, some of the fire gone from his voice as he tried to picture the scene and failed to understand how something like that could happen.
“We don’t know, my Lord. The fleeing men that we could get to talk said Arvad gathered the few men that didn’t run from the … destruction … and continued chasing after the girl and her guards. These men confirmed the girl was there, protected by a few surviving Roman soldiers, and the wizard.”
The man added the last part quietly, the words barely audible. Zaracas’s nostrils flared as he turned to one of his commanders.
“Send out more scouts. Find Arvad. NOW!” he bellowed and pointed at the scout. “Lead them to Arvad.”
The man saluted, turned, and spurred his horse after the staff officer, praising the gods that he’d somehow survived giving his report.
Zaracas frowned, fighting to regain his composure. He was as religious as the next man and followed the worship of Hexitas as expected, but he was also a pragmatist. If pressed, he would agree that the gods and their sorcerers could, if they wished, wander the earth handing out justice. That was something everyone accepted as a possibility. Zaracas had not encountered anything like that in his long years of service, and he had difficulty believing in what he couldn’t see.
As he rode on, the pain in his haunches was forgotten, lost in concern on how he would report this turn of events to the Governor. While he wasn’t worried about the girl getting word back to Devnum of the army’s march. She and her small group could outrun his army if they managed to elude Arvad. At this point, however, he would be upon the city before any reinforcements could arrive. He was more worried about how her escape would play in Londinium.
Maharbaal certainly had spies riddled throughout his army, meaning news of the ambush and the girl's initial escape was almost certainly already on the way to the Governor. Zaracas would have to send a message back tonight after the army stopped. The only thing the governor tolerated less than failure, was trying to hide the failure.
Hopefully, Arvad would catch up to the girl and her ‘wizard,' and solve the problem, eliminating the need to deliver a report of failure in person. Even generals had to fear delivering bad news to a Governor.
Forest Clearing, Ambush Site
They didn’t end up leaving in a hurry. As Ky had predicted, they found Sellic by the road, dead. His throat had been cut. Delaying here for any length of time was a risk, but they agreed to bury the dead soldier before they headed out. While his people no longer buried the dead in the ground, opting for cremation instead of interment, Ky didn’t object. He understood that superstitions were important to people; and, as a soldier himself, albeit a lot different than the Romans, Ky could appreciate Ursinus’s desire to do right by his man.
The ghastly chore was shortened once Ky understood what they intended and took over digging. With his enhanced muscles, even the rock-hard ground gave way quickly to his assault. In under an hour they were on the road, with several additional mounts in tow. The horses taken from the dead men would allow each of Ky and the three remaining Romans to change horses as their mounts got tired and extend their range without stopping for a break.
Not being acquainted with horses, Ky hadn’t understood that at first. A quick query to the AI told him that, unburdened, a horse could rest even on the move, recovering some from the fatigue that would eventually hobble the animal if it was forced to carry full-grown adults and supplies for long distances. Apparently, the real problem for the animals was not the amount of walking they did, but the load they were burdened with. Ky filed that information away since, if he was truly stuck here, he would almost certainly be forced to ride the beasts again.
Ky was also surprised when Ursinus announced they were taking a break shortly after leaving the forest behind them. The soldier indicated the small band should veer off the straight northerly course they’d traveled on the previous day and instead said they should climb a rise about a kilometer east of the tree line.
Ky was at first unsure of why Ursinus, who’d been quiet since the ambush, had called for a halt on the top of a hill that left them exposed. He watched as Ursinus turned his horse towards the south and raised his hand over his eyes to block the early morning sun.
Ky followed suit, altering his eyes for telescopic vision, slowly adjusting the magnification as he scanned the horizon, trying to see what Ursinus could have been looking for. His search took some time, needing to bring vision up to fifty times magnification to find what he was looking for, but then he saw it. A long line of men on foot, lightly armored, which seemed normal for the time, carrying shields and spears, was marching roughly in their direction.
“Do you see that?” Ursinus said, staring off into the distance. “Dust clouds like that need a lot of people to happen.”
The AI automatically worked up the calculations, with distances appearing in the corner of his vision, changing as he changed his focus.
“Yes. There is a large army moving north,” Ky provided as Ursinus squinted at the haze of dust on the horizon.
“You can see that, then?” the soldier asked, turning to look at Ky in surprise.
“Yes. I am able to see very far if needed.”
That was an understatement. Combat in space happened at kilometer ranges, and he was able to increase his vision by almost five hundred times if needed. He wouldn’t need all that power to see things on the ground, the horizon only stretching about a hundred and thirty kilometers or so. Baring obstructions, he should be able to see fine details on anything he needed to as long as he had a direct line of sight.
“Can you tell how far away they are?” Ursinus asked, still sounding unsure if Ky could possibly be telling the truth.
“About thirty-two kilometers.”
“Thirty-two what?”
Ky realized the last word had not translated, the standardized distances his people used were not used by people of this time.
“What measurements do they use?” he asked the AI internally.
“Romans measured distance by passus, with one thousand passus being equivalent to one point four eight kilometers. A note should be made that the translation is not exact, as standardization of measurement was not common at the time. While information on this version of Roman is unavailable, the similarities with historical records suggest a continuity of measurements between the two realities.”
“Just under twenty-two thousand passus.”
“Can you tell how fast they are marching, or how many there are? What about unit makeup? How much cavalry is there? Do they have siege weapons?”
“I can’t make out much beyond the front ranks at this angle, we aren’t high enough. One moment.”
Ky reached down and, at a mental command, a pocket opening along one thigh appeared. Reaching in Ky pulled out a small disk about the diameter of his palm and half as thick. A readout in one corner of his vision showed a string of data as the device came to life, a blueish glow showing along its edge.
After a moment, the device leapt from his hand and hurtled into the sky. The corner of Ky’s vision switched to a remote feed from the small drone, showing the ground and forest the small disc crossed over as it gained altitude, hurtling towards the army.
“What was that?” Lucilla said, again looking at Ky with an expression he wasn’t comfortable with.
“This is a small tool that allows me to see things from a … bird's-eye view,” Ky answered, trying to come up with an explanation that would make sense to her.
“You can see down on them?” Ursinus said.
“Yes.”
Ky didn’t add that the drone could do more significantly more than just give him an Arial view. Things like sensor suites and multi-band imaging wouldn’t translate, no matter how Ky tried to explain them. He had to switch out of the visible spectrum already to see through the dust kicked up by the soldier's boots, obscuring so much of the army.
“I’d say there are maybe twenty thousand soldiers, almost entirely on foot. There are no more than a few hundred men on horses. The men are mostly armed with spears, and lightly armored.”
“You can see what that thing shows you as it flies?” Lucilla asked, her voice tinged with awe.
“Yes,” Ky said, deciding there was no way to explain line of sight signal transfer would never translate, before switching back to finish answering Ursinus’s question. “I don’t see anything I’d call a siege engine, although there are large, much less organized groups following behind the soldiers. They look to be pulling wagons of various sizes.”
“That’d be their baggage train. How fast are they moving?”
“It’s hard to get an exact speed on something that spread out. Parts keep starting and stopping to catch up with the group in front of them, or to let the group behind catch up. I’d say, from where they are now, they wouldn’t reach us for a day and a half or so at their current pace, assuming they only stop for a few hours for rest.”
That last part was supplied by the AI, which had performed calculations based on the data from the drone.
“With us on horseback we should be able to triple that distance, if we push it, by the time we get home. I think it’s safe to say they are headed to Devnum since it’s the only major target in this direction. Their army will be, at best, four days out once we reach home.”
Ursinus’s face pulled tight after he said that, and he saw a severe frown form on Sellic's face as well.
“That’s bad?” Ky asked, seeing their expression.
“Yes. Most of our legions are up north, dealing with an incursion by the painted barbarians. There are only two legions left to guardDevnum. Officially, that’s ten thousand men, but recruitment has been … bad for some time, and both legions are under-strength. I think we could field, at best, seventy-five hundred men, and that’s almost all infantry.”
Ky joined them in the frown. While he wasn’t up on the tactics of ancient armies, the likely result of such a wide disparity in forces was readily apparent. His had extended as he thought about it, almost subconsciously, and retrieved the drone which flew directly into his grasp.
“We need to hurry,” Lucilla said, casting one amazed last look at the drone as Ky slipped the small, black disk back into the otherwise invisible pocket on his thigh. “They will need as much warning we can give them.”
Ursinus agreed and led them northward off the hill at a steady pace, faster than any of the men in the following army could manage, but slow enough to keep from wearing out the horses.
Carthaginian Army
Zaracas stood over the body, just outside the small clearing, the rage evident on his face.
He’d been a soldier since the day he hit puberty, learning at the elbow of his father, who was himself a General. He’d served as a junior officer in the final Persian campaigns, taking part in the battle of Zabol where they crushed the Arsacid dynasty for good. He’d fought back the German hoards that tried to push into Gaul and Thracia, personally killing the giant, ax-wielding Gervald. He’d led one wing of the landings on this damned island, to once and for all end the Romans.
In all that time he’d only seen men decapitated on the battlefield twice. Both times the mutilation had happened near the end of the battle, and in both instances, the event had been a gory affair with the men responsible hacking away to claim their prize a half-dozen times.
Arvad's head, which they found a handful of paces away, had been removed with almost surgical precision. Headsmen rarely cut through the entire neck with a single blow, and yet clearly that’s what had been done here. What’s more, the sword still gripped in the dead man’s hand suggested that he hadn’t stood plaintively like one of the executioner’s victims.
No, this was like nothing Zaracas had ever seen.
On top of the unusual manner of Arvad’s death, all of the deserters from the clash in the swamp Zaracas had questioned, before he handed the cowards over to the priests for punishment, had confirmed that no more than five Romans escaped the swamp. If that was all that was left of the fleeing Romans, Zaracas couldn’t see how such a small force could have been able to slaughter Arvad and all his men. His trackers identified some dried blood near the road, along with a shallow grave, that suggested Arvad had taken at least one of them and confirmed his lieutenant had encountered the Romans. His scouts seemed fairly confident that had been a sentry. Arvad had been a good man, seasoned, with many offerings to Hexitas during his service. If he had managed to silence their sentry and set upon the handful of other survivors, how had things ended like this?
There were no answers to his unvoiced questions, not that he expected any. He just glared at the officer who’d found the carnage, his anger fuming. To the man’s credit, he didn’t flinch, despite the fact that many a messenger had fallen to Zaracas’ blade after delivering some particularly unwelcome message.
This time at least, Zaracas didn’t take out his frustrations on the messenger. He simply spun on his heels and headed back to the horses. He would get his satisfaction in less than a week when he crushed the Romans for good and sacked their pitiful city.
Devnum
The small band cleared another rolling hill revealing a small city nestled up against what looked like a huge river or smaller lake. Thanks to maps the AI had downloaded, Ky knew this was actually an inland harbor, for all intents and purposes.
Docks covered one side of the city, as the settlement curved along the waterfront, with straight, orderly streets bracketing rows of houses covered in tile roofs radiating out from there in an uneven semi-circle. The town itself covered, at best, five square miles. A large open area sat at the center of town, with a rectangular building on the north side of the square that seemed to match images of temples from this time period. The south side of the open area had another large building, this one somewhat more squarish, with smaller buildings shooting off from it, connected by covered walkways.
The largest buildings in town looked to be two stories, and there was a small wall running around the edge of the city from water's edge to water's edge. The settlement seemed neat and clean, but smaller than Ky had pictured for the capital of what remained of the Roman Empire.
They had ridden hard to get here, sleeping only a handful of hours each night, rising early, and riding all day with few breaks except to switch mounts. They’d made good time, gaining enough ground that Ky was no longer able to see the army that had followed in their wake, but they all knew that army was there, which kept small talk to a minimum.
“Home,” Lucilla said.
“I see,” Ky said, not sure what else he could offer.
The world he grew up in was so different from the one he found himself in now. From the dome covered cities on Mars to the sprawling megalopolises on Earth to the space stations where he spent most of his life to this point. Anything Ky might say would sound condescending at best, as he unconsciously compared the small city to those of his time.
“Let’s hurry. Father was weak when we left, and that was days ago. I’m terrified we might already be too late.”
“Lucilla, remember, I said …” Ky started to say again when he was interrupted.
“I know, you offer no promises. You are still my best hope.”
With that, she spurred her horse and rode hard toward town. Ky looked at Ursinus, as he and Sellic led the extra horses.
“Take these to the guard stables and get some rest. Report to me tomorrow,” Ursinus said, handing the lead lines to the man.
The soldier nodded, unable to salute while holding onto all of the additional horses, “Yes, Optio.”
“Let’s go after her,” Ursinus said, and spurred his horse.
Ky gave one more glance to the soldier and the horses and did the same. They didn’t need to ride terribly hard, since Lucilla was apparently holding back, letting Ky catch up to her. They slowed as they entered the congested streets of the town.
While the city appeared small, at least in Ky’s reckoning, Lucilla’s home was full of activity, with stalls lining most of the streets and people traveling this way and that on various errands. As they rode past, many eyes turned to look at what was certainly the most well-known woman in town. Their attention lingering longer than normal as they took in her torn and dirty dress, and even paused again as their eyes fell to the strange foreigner with his odd almond-shaped eyes and bizarre dress.
The four of them were apparently quite the spectacle as people stopped to gawk and stare. More than once, Ursinus had to loudly shout to clear a path, sometimes punctuated with a solid smack from the flat side of his blade.
The continually updated map, fed with details barely noticed by Ky himself but dutifully recorded by the AI and shown in one corner of his vision, told Ky that they were nearing the open square at the center of the city when Lucilla pulled up at a sprawling complex of buildings.
Ky wasn’t sure at first if this was where they were headed, since the row of connected buildings, which appeared to stretch into the distance, seemed much too big to be a home for anyone, even the leader of a government. His doubt was short-lived as Lucilla slid off her mount and handed the reins to a man who had rushed out of the complex as soon as the group had dismounted.
Ky followed suit. He found Ursinus had done the same, adjusting his armor and sword as he moved to stand behind the Lucilla.
“Please, let’s hurry,” she said, sounding more frantic now that they had arrived.
She reached out and grabbed Ky’s hand, pulling him along in a rush as her other hand lifted the hem of her flowing skirt to keep from tripping as she ascended the steps leading into the complex.
“Open the doors,” she commanded, not even breaking stride as they passed the row of columns that stretched the front of the entire building.
The guards saw the seriousness of her face and jerked the doors open, to keep her from smashing into them in her headlong charge. They rushed past a multitude of people filling wide hallways, some having to leap out of the way to keep from being run over. Lucilla pulled him through a dizzying array of turns, finally stopping at an ornately carved door flanked by a pair of guards.
She was forced to pause as the guards hesitated, looking questioningly at Ky.
“Open it,” she commanded in a growl.
As with the earlier guards they didn’t question her, after seeing the expression on her face, and opened the doors, admitting them into a small antechamber currently filled with seven men, all looking serious. They were wearing elaborately wrapped sheets of fabric that seemed to be layered in some kind of specific style that was conspicuously different from the simple dress worn by Lucilla or the armored skirts worn by the Roman soldiers.
“Lucilla,” a man said in surprise, separating himself from the pack, “You’re back.”
“Caesius, how is he?” she said, releasing Ky’s hand.
“The physician says his time is soon. They are trying to purge him one last time, but none of them think it will help. The Senators and I were about to go in and begin the vigil.”
Lucilla turned to Ky, “I found someone that might be able to help.”
“Lucilla, haven’t we tried enough of these ‘cures.' He’s dying. Bringing charlatans isn’t going to stop that.”
“You don’t understand, this is different. He’s the …”
“Someone who said I’d try and help, but didn’t promise miracles,” Ky said, interrupting her.
“Did you come from the east?” One of the other men asked. “Your eyes almost remind me of some of the traders I met once before the trade lanes with the Rus were closed to us.”
“I’m from a bit further than that.”
“I don’t think …” the man named Caesius started to say before Lucilla cut him off.
“He is going to see Father.”
“I don’t think his visit will hurt, Caesius,” one of the other men said, his voice rumbling gravely. “The Princeps will die today if nothing is done. If this man turns out to be an incompetent or charlatan, he would only be accelerating the inevitable.”
“Fine,” Caesius said with a sigh, standing aside and sweeping an arm towards an inner door, “go.”
“Ky, please,” Lucilla said when he didn’t immediately step toward the door.
Ky gave another look to the man Caesius, whose eyes bored into Ky’s own, and then turned and headed into the room. A large bed sat against one wall, with a man flanking either side. The man on the left side of the bed had the arm of the man Ky assumed was Lucilla’s father. A small blade was in his hand, as blood dripped down the arm into a clay pot.
“What are you doing,” Ky demanded, seeing the man squeezing her father’s arm, forcing more blood out.
“My lady?” he asked, looking at Ky and then Lucilla in confusion.
“I’ve brought him to see Father. He might be able to help cure him.”
“Please step back,” Ky said, trying to hide the disgust at the ‘treatment’ he was witnessing.
“My lady, I don’t know what this man has promised you, but I can tell you your father is almost gone. He no longer wakes, and his breath comes unevenly. I promised your brother I would try everything, but he is too far gone for a final purge to help. Any potions this man has promised will do nothing.”
“Letting him bleed out will kill him faster,” Ky said, striding forward and pushing the man away, taking her father’s arm in his own.
“Guar…” the man started to yell, and then stopped as Lucilla moved up next to Ky.
“No. Clovius, please, just let him try.”
“Fine,” the man said pompously, stepping back, “but I will keep watch, to make sure he doesn’t try to kill the Princeps faster.”
Ky lay the man’s arm on the bed and reached into one of the small pouches in his flight suit, opposite from the side he’d retrieved the drone. The connective material separated easily as he lightly tugged on it. Drawing out a small flexible strip, Ky pressed it to the man’s temple and ran a finger over it. Lines glowed as the triage probe came to life, a visible sign that it was active.
“Begin analysis,” Ky subvocalized.
“Yes, Commander,” the AI said, and then fell silent.
Ky stood there for a full minute, silently watching as various diagnostic data played across his vision.
“Ky, what …”
“One moment please, Lucilla,” he said absently, his eyes flickering as he looked over the data, mental commands changing views as he tried to follow the AIs progress.
Ky wasn’t a medic, but all pilots had basic training with medkits. The AI had passed most of the things he had been trained to look into after the first twenty seconds, making him as much of a passenger as the man’s daughter.
“Commander, please move the triage probe over the cut on the man’s arm.”
Ky didn’t ask why, although he wondered about the AI giving what almost amounted to a command, something he’d never heard before. He simply moved the flexible strip and placed it over the cut. He had self-sealing bandages that would have been used on a bad enough cut, but the small slash created by the ‘physician’ wasn’t deep enough to require that.
Silence hung in the room as Ky, at least from the Romans' perspective, simply stood over the man’s bed, occasionally laying a strip of strange cloth on the man’s arm.
“Commander, the subject is near total respiratory failure, caused by low levels of Aconite poisoning. Without treatment, the subject will asphyxiate in approximately three hours.”
“Can we cure it?” Ky sub-vocalized.
“Yes, Commander. An application of the medpatch from your kit will successfully remove the poison and reverse the damage done. Be aware you’re emergency kit contains only three medpatches, with no practical option for replacements. Caution should be considered in using critical, non-replenishable supplies.”
“I’ll take that under advisement,” Ky said, forcing his face to stay neutral as he silently communicated with the artificial intelligence. “Adjust the patch to his system and prep it for application.”
He reached into the same pouch as before and pulled out a small square, which he placed on the bare skin on the man’s arm. The patch contained a medical form of limited nanobots that could target programmed damage and conduct internal repairs. They weren’t tuned to the user and would be programmed to deactivate and be expelled through the normal excretion processes when they finished, since un-attuned nanobots would have to temporarily block the body from attacking them as a foreign substance. While they would boost the body’s natural defenses as they deactivated, long-term use of the nanobots would cause extreme immune responses if left active in the body.
Lucilla’s father was fortunate that Ky had medpatches at all. There had been discussions back and forth for years over removing them from a pilot’s standard-issue field kit since all pilots had genetically matched nanobots of their own. Ky couldn’t think of anything that might happen to kill all the nanobots in a pilot’s system necessitating the application of a one-time-use' set of bots. Maybe a massive exposure to radiation, although the levels needed to shut down all the bots would certainly be instantly fatal to the pilot as well.
For now, however, they were still issued, which was lucky for the older man lying in the bed.
“Adapting to subject's system. Additional bacterial infection at the site of the open cut detected, along with a minor arterial blockage. Program initiated to remove the poison, harmful bacteria, clear the blockage, repair organs damaged by the poison, and effect minor biological repairs. Estimated time to recovery, fifteen minutes.”
“Your father was suffering from Aconite poisoning,” Ky said, turning to Lucilla.
“What is Aconite?”
“Aconite is from an herb called Aconitum that is part of the Ranunculaceae. In this time period, the plant would have been referred to as Wolf’s Bane or Monkshood,” the AI supplied, helpfully, but without being requested.
“You would know Aconite as Wolf’s Bane or Monkshood.”
“Preposterous. Wolf’s Bane is very fast-acting. He’d be dead long before now if that were true,” Clovis said with a scoff.
Without being asked, the AI put up diagnostics information from the scan of the old man, with the relevant information to the man’s statement highlighted.
“The poison was highly diluted. The doses were extremely small, most likely to create the appearance of a more natural infection and to hide the true cause. If I had to guess, the most reasonable assumption for someone hiding the poisoning would be a deliberate assassination attempt,” Ky said.
Clovis looked unsure, more out of stubbornness than doubting Ky’s, or more accurately the AI’s, diagnosis.
“Will he live?”
“I’m sorry, my lady, but even in small amounts, Wolf’s Bane is always fa…”
“Yes,” Ky said, interrupting the man. “He will sleep for another fifteen minutes or so, and then he will be fine.”
“What?” Clovis practically roared.
“Really?” Lucilla said, much more hopefully.
“Yes,” Ky said, ignoring the physician, “really. I’ll step outside and let you sit with him. You should be with him when he wakes up.”
“Thank you,” she said, lifting herself up on her toes, throwing her arms around Ky’s neck and hugging him fiercely.
Clovis gave a look of almost disgust, turned, and stormed out of the room.
“Ignore him. He’s just bitter that you came in and did the impossible. Once they learn who you really are, they won’t question anymore.”
“Lucilla, please,” Ky warned.
“Deny all you want, but after this? You were sent by the gods. I’m positive now, even if you aren’t.”
Ky rolled his eyes but decided not to press the subject at the moment, saying, “I’ll be outside.”
