Free Interregnum by S. J. A. Turney Page A

worth paying real attention to.”
Quintillian narrowed his eyes.
“So you mean that you could tell me the truth?”
The medic shrugged and poured a slightly cloudy pungent spirit from the black bottle into the two glasses.
    “I was there, it’s true” he said softly. “The wars were all close to home by then and there was more need for doctors in the homeland than on the frontiers. Most of the medical corps was based in the capital at the time, in fact. I can tell you some things. Others are best left buried. What in particular do you want to know?”
    The boy leaned forward, considering whether to drink the spirit. He clicked his tongue a few times and then picked up the drink and sipped it. The face he pulled made Mercurias laugh loudly.
    “Slam it down,” he grinned, “For heavens’ sake don’t sip it. It’s not wine.”
    Quintillian wiped his eyes and rubbed his burning lower lip. His voice came out little more than a wheeze.
    “What I really want to know is about the Captain and the unit. You were all there, weren’t you; not just the medics. You were all in the capital at the end; when it happened.”
    The medic narrowed his eyes.
    “What the hell makes you think we were there?” he said defensively. “There were a lot of units spread across the central Empire then. I think the Captain and most of the lads were out to the west.”
    Quintillian smiled.
    “Do you have a canteen?” he asked.
    The medic nodded and, slowly withdrawing the object from his pack, placed it on the table between them. The lad smiled knowingly and turned the flask over to reveal the engraved wolf’s head on the other side. He pointed at the decoration.
    “You all have them” he pointed out. “The Captain’s very intelligent I know, but he’s not doing a very good job of hiding who he is. Or the rest of you for that matter.”
Mercurias leaned across the table, his face inches from the boy’s. His voice issued in a threatening whisper.
“If you really did know what you were talking about, you wouldn’t be doing it so loud.”
Quintillian’s voice dropped to the same level.
    “Kiva Tregaron, Captain of the Grey Company” he said. “Kiva Caerdin, General of the Empire and Commander of the Wolves. It’s not a great leap to work it out. It may be all nice and good and sentimental for you all to carry your old regimental flasks, but it really is a gaping hole in any kind of cover you’re all trying to achieve.”
    Mercurias frowned and slugged down a little of the spirit before he spoke.
    “Ok. You’re bright. I knew that. Question is: how bright are you? Time for you to tell me what you know about us.”
    “Not all that much” Quintillian shrugged. “I know that he is the General. No one could make that mistake given the evidence. You’re all so tight-lipped about it, I can only assume that what constitutes the grey company are, in fact, the members of the Wolves from before the fall, you included, yes?”
“Not all of us,” the medic conceded, “but most, yes.”
Quintillian nodded.
“The rest of what I have is questions.”
The medic frowned.
    “Alright” he said, taking a deep breath. “I have just one question for you and I want you to answer it truthfully. There are dozens of ways to tell if a man’s lying and I know a lot of them.”
    He glared at Quintillian until the boy nodded, hovering between nervousness and excitement. At the nod, Mercurias leaned forward and spoke in a low voice.
    “Why us? Were you actually looking for us?”
    The boy shook his head.
    “I know it seems odd,” he said, “but I assure you it’s entirely coincidental. I’m just grateful to get the chance to travel with heroes; legends even. That’s worth a hundred corona alone. I’ve read about the Wolves since I was first able to pick up a book.”
    Mercurias narrowed his eyes and his voice dropped even lower, barely audible among the sounds of the bar.
    “One more thing then” he murmured. “You do know about your