The scouts rode back late that afternoon with word that they'd found the host Turan commanded. Abivard thanked them and then went off away from his men to kick at the rich black dirt in frustration. He'd come so close to catching Maniakes between the halves of the Makuraner force; that the Videssians had caught him between the halves of theirs seemed most unfair.

He posted sentries out as far as a farsang from his camp, wanting to be sure Maniakes could not catch him by surprise. He had considerably more respect for the Videssian Avtokrator now than he'd had when his forces had been routing Maniakes' at every turn.

When he said as much, Roshnani raised an eyebrow and remarked, «Amazing what being beaten will do, isn't it?» He opened his mouth, then closed it, discovering himself without any good answer.

Turan's half of the Makuraner army reached the canal a day and a half later. After the officer had crossed over and kissed Abivard's cheek by way of greeting, he said, «Lord, I wish you could have waited before you started your fight.»

«Now that you mention it, so do I,» Abivard answered. «We don't always have all the choices we'd like, though.»

«That's so,» Turan admitted. He looked around as if gauging the condition of Abivard's part of the army. «Er—lord, what do we do now?»

«That's a good question,» Abivard said politely, and then proceeded not to answer it. Turan's expression was comical, or would have been had the army's plight been less serious. But here, unlike in his conversations with his wife, Abivard understood he would have to make a reply. At last he said, «One way or another we're going to have to get Maniakes out of the land of the Thousand Cities before he smashes it all to bits.»

«We just tried that,» Turan answered. «It didn't work so well as we'd hoped.»

«One way or another, I said,» Abivard told him. «There is something we haven't tried in fullness, because as a cure it's almost worse than the sickness of invasion.»

«What's that?» Turan asked. Again Abivard didn't answer, letting his lieutenant work it out for himself. After a while Turan did. Snapping his fingers, he said, «You want to do a proper job of flooding the plain.»

«No, I don't want to do that,» Abivard said. «But if it's the only way to get rid of Maniakes, I will do it.» He laughed wryly. «And if I do, half the Thousand Cities will close their gates to me because they'll think I'm a more deadly plague than Maniakes ever was.»

«They're our subjects,» Turan said in a that-settles-it tone.

«Yes, and if we push them too far, they'll be our rebellious subjects,» Abivard said. «When Genesios ruled Videssos, he had a new revolt against him every month, or so it seemed. The same could happen to us.»

Now Turan didn't answer at all. Abivard started to try to get him to say something, to say anything, then suddenly stopped. One of the things he was liable to say was that Abivard might lead a revolt himself. Abivard didn't want to hear that. If he did hear it, he would have to figure out what to do about Turan. If he let his lieutenant say it without responding, he would in effect be guilty of treasonous conspiracy. If Turan wanted to take word of that back to Sharbaraz, he could. But if Abivard punished him for saying such a thing, he would cost himself an able officer.

And so, to forestall any response, Abivard changed the subject: «Do your men still have their fighting spirit?»

«They did till they got here and saw bodies out in the sun starting to stink,» Turan said. «They did till they saw men down with festering wounds or out of their heads from fever. They're garrison troops. Most of 'em never saw what the aftermath of a battle—especially a lost battle—looks like before. But your men seem to be taking it pretty well.»

«Yes, and I'm glad of that,» Abivard said. «When we'd beat the Videssians, they'd go all to pieces and run every which way. I thought my own raw troops would do the same thing, but they haven't, and I'm proud of them for it.»

«I can see that, since it would have been your neck, too, if they did fall apart,» Turan said judiciously. «But you can fight another battle with 'em, and they're ready to do it, too. My half of the army will be better for seeing that.»

«They are ready to fight again,» Abivard agreed. «That surprises me, too, maybe more than anything else.» He waved toward the northeast, the direction in which Maniakes' army had gone. «The only question is. Will we be able to catch up with the Videssians and bring them to battle again? It's because I have my doubts that I'm thinking so hard of flooding the land between the Tutub and the Tib.»

«I understand your reasons, lord,» Turan said, «but it strikes me as a counsel of desperation, and there are a lot of city governors it would strike the same way. And if they're not happy—» He broke off once more. They'd already been around to that point on the wheel.

Abivard didn't know how to keep them from going around again, either. But before he had to try, a scout interrupted the circle, crying, «Lord, cavalry approach from out of the north!»

Maybe Maniakes hadn't been satisfied to beat just one piece of the Makuraner army, after all. Maybe he was coming back to see if he could smash the other half, too. Such thoughts ran through Abivard's mind in the couple of heartbeats before he shouted to the trumpeters: «Blow the call for line of battle!»

Martial music rang out. Men grabbed weapons and rushed to their places more smoothly than he would have dared hope a couple of weeks before. If Maniakes was coming back to finish the job, he'd get a warm reception. Abivard was pleased to see how well Turan's troops moved along with his own, who had been blooded. The former squadron commander had done well with as large a body of men.

«Sharbaraz!» roared the Makuraner troops as the on-rushing cavalry drew near. A few of them yelled «Abivard!» too, making their leader proud and apprehensive at the same time.

And then they got a better look at the approaching army. They cried out in wonder and delight, for it advanced under the red-lion banner of the King of Kings. And its soldiers also cried Sharbaraz name, and some few of them the name of their commander as well: «Tzikas!»

One of the lessons Abivard's father, Godarz, had drilled into him was not asking the God for anything he didn't really want, because he was liable to get it anyhow. He'd forgotten that principle on this campaign, and now he was paying for it.

The look on Turan's face probably mirrored the one on his own. His lieutenant asked, «Shall we welcome them, lord, or order the attack?»

«A good question.» Abivard shook his head, as much to suppress his own temptation as for any other reason. «Can't do that, I'm afraid. We welcome them. Odds are, Tzikas doesn't know I know he sent those letters complaining of me to Sharbaraz.»

If the Videssian renegade did know that, he gave no sign of it. He rode out in front of the ranks of his own horsemen and through the foot soldiers—who parted to give him a path—straight up to Abivard. When he reached him, he dismounted and went down on one knee in what was, by Videssian standards, the next closest thing to an imperial greeting. «Lord, I am here to aid you,» he declared in his lisping Makuraner.

Abivard, for his part, spoke in Videssian: «Rise, eminent sir. How many men have you brought with you?» He gauged Tzikas' force. «Three thousand, I'd guess, or maybe a few more.»

«Near enough, lord,» Tzikas answered, sticking to the language of the land that had adopted him. «You gauge numbers with marvelous keenness.»

«You flatter me,» Abivard said, still in Videssian; he would not acknowledge Tzikas as a countryman. Then he showed his own fangs, adding, «I wish you had been so generous when you discussed me with Sharbaraz King of Kings, may his days be long and his realm increase.»