«Peasants.» Tzikas let out a scornful snort amazingly like the one his horse would have produced. «That's hardly a fit way to run a war.»
«I thought you Videssians were the ones who seized whatever worked and we Makuraners were more concerned with honor,» Abivard said.
«Give me horsemen, brother-in-law to the King of Kings,» Tzikas answered. «I will show you where honor lies and how to pursue it. How can you deny me now, when we shall no longer be facing Videssians but heretical big-nosed men of Vaspurakan? Let me serve the King of Kings, may his years be long and his realm increase, and let me serve the cause of Hosios Avtokrator.»
Whatever the topic of conversation, Tzikas was adept at turning it toward his own desires. «Let us draw closer to Vaspurakan,» Abivard said. The Videssian turncoat scowled at him, but what could he do? He lived on sufferance; Abivard was under no obligation to give him anything at all, let alone his heart's desire.
And while Tzikas scornfully dismissed the Vaspurakaners as heretics now, might he not suddenly develop or discover the view that they were in fact his coreligionists? Down under the skin weren't Phos worshipers Phos worshipers come what may? If he did something of that sort, he would surely do it at the worst possible moment, too.
«You do not trust me,» Tzikas said mournfully. «Since the days of Likinios Avtokrator, may Phos' light shine upon him, no one has trusted me.»
There were good and cogent reasons for that, too, Abivard thought. He'd met Likinios. The Videssian Emperor had been devious enough for any four other people he'd ever known. If anyone could have been confident of outmaneuvering Tzikas at need, he was the man. After fighting against Tzikas, after accepting him as a fugitive upon his failure to assassinate Maniakes, Abivard thought himself justified in exercising caution where the Videssian was concerned.
Seeing that he would get no immediate satisfaction, Tzikas gave Abivard a curt nod and rode off. His stiff back said louder than words, how indignant he was at having his probity questioned constantly.
Romezan watched him depart, then came up to Abivard and asked, «Who stuck the red-hot poker up his arse?'
«I did, I'm afraid,» Abivard answered. «I just don't want to give him the regiment he keeps begging of me.»
«Good,» Romezan said. «The God keep him from being at my back the day I need help. He'd stand there smiling, hiding a knife in the sleeve of his robe. No thank you.»
«Sooner or later he will write to Sharbaraz,» Abivard said gloomily. «Odds are, too, that his request will get me ordered to give him everything his cold little heart desires.»
«The God prevent!» Romezan's fingers twisted in an apotropaic sign. «If that does happen, he could always have an accident.»
«Like the one Maniakes almost had, you mean?» Abivard asked. Romezan nodded. Abivard sighed. «That could happen, I suppose, though the idea doesn't much appeal to me. I keep hoping he'll want to be useful in some kind of way where I won't have to watch my back every minute to make sure he's not sliding that knife you were talking about between my ribs.»
«The only use he's been so far is to embarrass Maniakes,» Romezan said. «He doesn't even do that well anymore; the more the Videssians hear about how we came to acquire him, the more they think we're welcome to him.»
«The King of Kings puts great stock in Videssian traitors,» Abivard said. «Having had his throne usurped by treachery, he knows what damage it can do to a ruler.»
«If the King of Kings is so fond of Videssian traitors, why don't we ship Tzikas off to Mashiz?» Romezan grumbled. But that was no answer, and he and Abivard both knew it. If Sharbaraz King of Kings expected them to encourage and abet Videssian traitors, they had to do it no matter how much Tzikas raised their hackles.
The road swung up from the coastal lowlands onto the central plateau. Resaina lay near the northern edge of the plateau, about a third of the way from the crossing of the Eriza to Vaspurakan. Like most good-sized Videssian towns, it had a Makuraner garrison quartered within its walls.
A plump, graying fellow named Gorgin commanded the garrison. «I've heard somewhat of the Vaspurakaners' outrages, lord,» he said. «By the God, it does my heart good to see you ready to chastise them with all the force at your command.»
Abivard sliced a bite of meat from the leg of mutton Gorgin had served him—cooked with garlic in the Videssian fashion instead of Makuraner style with mint. He stabbed the chunk and brought it to his mouth with the dagger. While chewing, he remarked, «I notice you do not volunteer the men of your command to join in this chastisement.»
«I have not enough men here to hold down the city and the countryside against a real revolt,» Gorgin answered. «If you take some of my soldiers from me, how shall I be able to defend Resaina against any sort of trouble whatever? These mad easterners riot at the drop of a skullcap. If someone who fancies himself a theologian rises among 'em, I won't be able to put 'em down.»
«Are you enforcing the edict ordering their holy men to preach the Vaspurakaner rite?» Abivard asked. «Aye, I have been,» Gorgin told him. «That's one of the reasons I feared riots. Then, a few weeks ago, the Videssians, may they fall into the Void, stopped complaining about the rite.»
«That's good news,» Abivard said.
«I thought so,» Gorgin replied gloomily. «But now my spies report the reason why they accept the Vaspurakaners' rituals: it's because the men from the mountains have revolted against us. The Videssians admire them for doing it because they'd like to get free of our yoke, too.»
«You're right,» Abivard said. «I don't fancy that, not even a little bit. What are we supposed to do about it, though? If we order them to go back to their old rituals, we not only disobey Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his days be long and his realm increase, we also make ourselves look ridiculous to the Videssians.»
«We don't want that, let me tell you,» Gorgin said. «They're hard enough to govern even when they know they have good reason to fear us. When they're laughing at us behind our backs, they're impossible. They'll do any harebrained thing to stir up trouble, but half the time their schemes end up not being harebrained at all. They find more ways to drive me crazy than I'd ever imagined.» He shook his head with the bewildered air of a man who knew he was in too deep.
«After we beat the Vaspurakaners, the Videssians will see that the revolt didn't amount to anything,» Abivard answered. «As soon as they realize that, the princes will look like heretics again, not heroes.»
«The God grant it be so,» Gorgin said.
A moment later Abivard discovered that not all Videssians willingly accepted the Vaspurakaner liturgy. «Torture! Heresy! May-hem!» a man shrieked as he ran into Gorgin's residence. The garrison commander jerked as if stuck by a pin, then exchanged a glance full of apprehension with Abivard. Both men got to their feet. «What have they gone and done now?» Gorgin asked, plainly meaning, What new disaster has fallen on my head?
But the disaster had fallen on the head of a Videssian priest, not that of Gorgin. The fellow sat in an antechamber, his shaved scalp and part of his forehead puffy and splashed here and there with dried blood. «You see?» cried the Videssian who had brought him in. «Do you see? They captured him, kidnapped him, however you like, and then they—» He pointed.
Abivard did see. The swelling and the blood came from the words that had been tattooed into the priest's head. Abivard read Videssian only haltingly. After some study, he gathered that the words came from a theological text attacking the Vaspurakaners and their beliefs. The priest would wear those passages for the rest of his life.