Excerpt: The Byzantine Wars

General Theodor gave him a look that reminded him of Dion. “I can tell you are going to be difficult, Prussia, but I like you. You don’t have the same smile as the others.”

“Well,” said Alarick, feeling called upon to defend the Poles, even as he agreed with his opponent, “you haven’t invaded my country, not yet. I suppose I might feel differently then.”

“Do you think so? I don’t think so. In any case, these men betrayed you.”

“Not exactly. They owe no loyalty to me.”

“They sold you out, though. How do you feel about that?”

“Not good, sir.”

The General laughed again, and stood. Alarick and the Poles did the same, although the Poles looked nervous. “You know, I’m almost sad that you weren’t able to put up more of a fight, Captain von Zelig,” the General said in plain Polish. He spoke with an honest hint of regret in his voice. “I think you might be an interesting man to meet on the battlefield, if you were made a General. What do you say?”

“I think I’d like to avoid that at all costs, sir,” Alarick said, still in Russian. It seemed to annoy the Poles, and he took distinct pleasure in that.

“As the Lord wills us, I suppose. Still. I regret to tell you that I shall have to put you in irons until you become more cooperative – cooperative in this case, of course, a complete euphemism for frightened, lonely and desperate. Dmitri, Kovacs.”

Two officers snapped tightly to attention. “Please take Captain von Zelig to the Tower. That is,” he said, correctly interpreting the Ministers’ pained expressions, “if I have the Ministers’ permission to make use of their hospitality.”

“Certainly, General,” the Junior Minister said in a rush, relieved to be included again. He gestured to two members of the Polish guard to come forward, quietly shadowed by Dmitri and Kovacs. “Escort Captain von Zelig to the cells.”

“Until we meet again, Captain,” said the General. They saluted one another, and on that signal the meeting would have broken up, had not two senior officers at that moment entered the council chamber.

They said something in very rapid Greek to General Theodor, who immediately crossed the room and began to engage in furious discussion with them. At least, they were speaking furiously – he looked calm and collected as ever. Alarick mentally crossed his fingers as he tried his best to translate the hushed voices. He caught the words “officers,” “Prussians,” “four grapes,” “deception.”

Excellent, he thought to himself.

The General turned and advanced on him with a curious expression. It was not anger, but his entire being seemed to ratchet up the intensity gauge. It was imposing. Alarick tried to look as casual and relaxed as he could while his arms were hog-wrenched behind his back by two suddenly nervous Polish guard. The General, however, spared not a glance for them.

“I’m sure it comes as no surprise to you that we cannot find your officers or your purser, your quartermaster, and your support staff. We received information on where they were staying – the four grapes, I believe. Clearly that was false.”

“Was it? Well, I’ve only recently been made a Captain, sir – it’s hard to keep discipline among the men. Maybe I just don’t have the knack for it.”

Alarick grinned to himself. Good old Holst had followed his instructions exactly in setting up those fake accounts. He’d spend the afternoon laying clues and putting the Russians off the scent complete. With any luck, if Uvi had been diligent in triggering the alert, his entire contingent of officers and staff would be back at base right now, rousing the entire army to attention. Not that they could do anything about him at the moment, but at least his officers hadn’t been picked off one by one by snipers – they were all together, and mobilizing for immediate action. And General Theodor couldn’t risk it, Alarick realized, staring into the man’s face. He’d chosen the diplomatic route for a reason, and it was the very same reason why he wouldn’t attack them now. He’d been counting on picking them off one by one, beheading Alarick’s forces instead of engaging them.

“Oh, you have a knack for something, von Zelig,” he said in quiet Russian. “I just wish I knew what it was.” The General snapped his fingers.

Me, too, Alarick added privately, as they escorted him out.