“On a battlefield? It's not bring-your-own, you know.”
“And . . . sir?”
“What?”
“Says he's probably the Cenobiarch, sir. Wants to talk about a peace treaty.”
“Oh, he does? Peace treaty? We know about peace treaties with Omnia. Go and tell . . . no. Take a couple of men and bring him here.”
Brutha walked back between the soldiers, through the organized pandemonium of the camp. I ought to feel afraid, he thought. I was always afraid in the Citadel. But not now. This is through fear and out the other side.
Occasionally one of the soldiers would give him a push. It's not allowed for an enemy to walk freely into a camp, even if he wants to.
He was brought before a trestle table, behind which sat half a dozen large men in various military styles,
and one small olive-skinned man who was gutting a fish and grinning hopefully at everyone.
“Well, now,” said Argavisti, “Cenobiarch of Omnia, eh?”
Brutha dropped Vorbis's body on to the sand. Their gaze followed it.
“I know him- said Borvorius. ”Vorbis! Someone killed him at last, eh? And will you stop trying to sell me fish? Does anyone know who this man is?" he added, indicating Fasta Benj.
“It was a tortoise,” said Brutha.
“Was it? Not surprised. Never did trust them, always creeping around. Look, I said no fish! He's not one of mine, I know that. Is he one of yours?”
Argavisti waved a hand irritably. “Who sent you, boy?”
“No one. I came by myself. But you could say I come from the future.”
“Are you a philosopher? Where's your sponge?”
“You've come to wage war on Omnia. This would not be a good idea.”
“From Omnia's point of view, yes.”
“From everyone's. You will probably defeat us. But not all of us. And then what will you do? Leave a garrison? For ever? And eventually a new generation will retaliate. Why you did this won't mean anything to them. You'll be the oppressors. They'll fight. They might even win. And there'll be another war. And one day people will say: why didn't they sort it all out, back then? On the beach. Before it all started. Before all those people died. Now we have that chance. Aren't we lucky?”
Argavisti stared at him. Then he nudged Borvorius.
“What did he say?”
Borvorius, who was better at thinking than the others, said, “Are you talking about surrender?”
“Yes. If that's the word.”
Argavisti exploded.
“You can't do that!”
“Someone will have to. Please listen to me. Vorbis is dead. He's paid.”
“Not enough. What about your soldiers? They tried to sack our city!”
“Do your soldiers obey your orders?”
“Certainly! ”