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no one was catching them and complaining. Maniakes supposed that was possible,
but he didn't believe it:
neither Broios nor Vetranios was likely to be that good a thief.
Rhegorios did keep sighing over Phosia. Maniakes kept threatening him with
cold water. After a while, his cousin fell silent.
As long as Abivard had stayed in the Videssian westlands, he'd sent streams of
messengers to Maniakes. Once he crossed back into territory long Makuraner,
though, the stream shrank to a trickle. Maniakes worried that something had
gone wrong.
"What's likely wrong," Rhegorios said, one day when the Avtokrator had been
fretting more than usual, "is that Tegin has got between us and Abivard. The
little garrison force couldn't do anything much against Abivard, mind you, but
it's big enough to pick off a courier or two."
"You're right about that, of course," Maniakes said. "And you're probably
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right that that's what's causing the trouble. I should have thought of it for
myself." Thinking of everything was part of what went with the Avtokrator's
job. That it was impossible didn't make it any less necessary. Every time
Maniakes missed a point, he felt bad for days.
He cheered up when a rider did come from out of the west. The fellow wore the
full panoply of a Makuraner boiler boy; either he'd worried about running into
Tegin's men or about running into Maniakes'. His armor clattered about him as
he prostrated himself before the Avtokrator of the Videssians.
"Majesty," he said, rising with noisy grace, "know that the forces led by
Abivard the new sun of Makuran have encountered those foolishly loyal to
Sharbaraz Pimp of
Pimps in the Land of the Thousand Cities. Know further that Abivard's forces
have the victory."
"Good news!" Maniakes exclaimed. "I'm always glad to hear good news."
The messenger nodded. His chain-mail veil rattled. Above that veil, all
Maniakes could see of the man himself were his eyes. They snapped with
excitement. "We have
Sharbaraz on the run now, Majesty," he said. "A good part of his army came
over to ours, which made him flee back to Mashiz."
"That's better than good news," Maniakes said. "Press hard and he's yours.
Once his forces start crumbling, they'll go like mud brick in the rain."
"Even so, or so we hope," the messenger said. "When I was detached to come
east to you, the field force was making ready to follow Sharbaraz's fugitives
to the capital."
"Press hard," Maniakes repeated. "If you don't, you give Sharbaraz a chance to
recover." From behind the messenger's veil came an unmistakable chuckle.
"What's funny?" the Avtokrator asked. "Majesty, you speak my language well,"
the messenger answered. Maniakes knew he was politely stretching a point, but
let him do it. The fellow went on, "No one, though, would ever take you for a
Makuraner, not by the way you say the name of the man Abivard will overthrow."
Maniakes proved his command of the Makuraner tongue left something to be
desired by needing a moment to sort through that and figure out what the
messenger meant. "Did I say
Sarbaraz again?" he demanded, and the man nodded. Maniakes snapped his fingers
in chagrin. "Oh, a pestilence! I've spent a lot of time learning how to
pronounce that strange sound you use. His name is... is...
Sarbaraz."
He started to raise a hand in triumph, then realized he'd failed again. Really
angry now, he concentrated hard. "Sar... Sar...
Shar baraz! There."
"Well done!" the messenger said. "Most of you hissing, squeaking Videssians
never do manage to get that one right, try as you will."
"You can tell a Makuraner by the way he speaks Videssian, too," Maniakes said,
to which the messenger nodded. Maniakes went on, "You haven't or Abivard
hasn't by any chance got word of where Tzikas is lurking these days?"
"The traitor? No, indeed, Majesty. I wish I did know, though I'd tell Abivard
before I told you. He's offering a good-sized reward for word of him and a
bigger one for his head." "So am I," Maniakes said.
"Are you?" The Makuraner's eyes widened. "How much?" His people claimed to
scorn Videssians as a race of merchants and shopkeepers. Maniakes' experience
was that the men of Makuran were no more immune to the lure of gold and silver
than anyone else. And when Maniakes told him how much he might earn for
finding
Tzikas, he whistled softly. "If I hear anything, I'll tell you and not
Abivard."
"Tell whichever of us has the best chance of catching the renegade," Maniakes
said. "If he is caught thanks to you, get word to me and I'll make good the
difference between Abivard's reward and mine, I promise. Tell all your
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friends, too, and tell them to tell their friends."
"I'll do that," the messenger promised.
"Good," Maniakes said. "If I had to guess, I'd say he's somewhere not far from
here, but I know that could be wildly wrong." He explained what he'd learned
from
Vetranios and Phosteinos.
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