Because both Ehleenee had had similar sexual preferences, Drehkos had originally designated young Kleetos of Mahrtos-polis to command Myros’ “guard,” thinking that if the two became lovers it could do no one any harm and might even do all the good of possibly draining off some of the energy which otherwise could fuel those devilish rages. But his matchmaking had been futile, for this new, radically altered and sometimes terrifying Myros seemed totally asexual.
But poor young KJeetos had been lost when the enemy’s van was ambushed. And even if any of the Vawnpolis noblemen had barely liked Myros, there were simply too few of them to assign one to devote his full time to watching over the valuable but unpredictable vahrohnos. No, the new commander of Myros’ “guard” needs must be a non-noble. Drehkos immediately thought of Sergeant Danos.
He was now ashamed of his rage at and curses upon the hapless archer on the morning of the attack on the camp. Ha should have known better, he felt, for Danos had always been dependable and efficient at any assigned task. On the long ride back to Vawnpolis, several archers and dartmen had spoken of the senior sergeant’s obvious illness that day, of how he had been seen to almost swoon after loosing the first shaft. Of how, despite his condition, he had emptied his quiver with his usual accuracy, then led a foot assault on the disorganized camp, slain at least two men with his short-sword and only withdrawn hi the face of the charging kahtahfrahktoee- which last showed that his illness had left his reasoning unaffected anyway.
“And,” Drehkos mused to himself, ‘Tve been driving the poor lad pretty hard since he first arrived, given him damned few moments to himself. This will present me a chance to make it all up to him somewhat. He’ll have to have more rank, of course. Let’s see … I’ll make him a lieutenant, let him pick a good man for his sergeant, and he can see to Myros whenever Danos wishes to get away for a while. That plus an unrestricted permission to all the town should make the boy happy. Who knows? He might find a girl or two to help him enjoy his evenings.”
And so, misinterpreting Danos’ pleas to retain his lower rank and station as modesty and the archer’s terror as embarrassment, the well-meaning Drehkos precipitated a situation whose culmination was to be horror and tragedy.
When informed of his “good fortune,” Danos could only stutter in his terror, “P-please . . . if-if-it p-please my 1-lord, I–I am not, I am unworthy of … of such. . . .”
And, smiling as he had not in weeks, Drehkos slapped the quaking archer’s shoulder. “Ah, young, faithful Danos. Son, your modesty is most refreshing, but if any here is worthy of advancement, it is you. My dear boy, I have been selfish. I have kept you near to me because you remind me of happier days, of home, and you have served me well. You have proved many times over your loyalty, honesty and bravery. Now I am in great need of those very qualities, so I call again upon you, you see.”
“But-but, my lord, there be noblemen, and . . . and I . . . may I not remain a sergeant, an archer even, and . . . and stay by my lord?” Danes’ voice broke on the last words and his terror sent tears cascading over his cheeks.
Drehkos was touched, deeply moved by the display he misread, and his own voice was husky. “If I had harbored any doubts as to the wisdom of this decision, good Danos, you have now erased them. So get you back to the barrack and choose a reliable man for your sergeant. I’ll have my man secure you a good servant and quarters suitable to your new rank. You’ll command the existing guard, of course, and I’ll introduce you to Lord Myros at breakfast tomorrow.”
Danos would once more have spoken, would have pleaded, begged, even groveled, but Drehkos was now conversing with a member of his staff, and the adjutant, Tchahros, put a hand on Danos’ elbow, saying with a smile, “There’ll be plenty of time to thank our lord properly, lieutenant, but just now his mind is on more pressing matters.”