The Mad God's Muse (The Eye of the Lion Saga Book 2) by Matt Gilbert Page A

the integrity of the papers in the
oilskin pouch, then called out, “Everyone, assemble. I have
orders given to me from Brutus before he perished.”
    Sandilianus shot him a curious
look. “So you are in charge now, boy?”
    Ahmed held up Brutus’s
sword. “If you wish to question it, I will show you who is a
boy.”
    Sandilianus chuckled and raised
an eyebrow in surprise. “You would go steel with me over it?”
    Ahmed considered a moment, then
lowered the sword. “Fists.”
    Sandilianus nodded. “Wisdom
is good in a leader. Swords or fists, I would destroy you like a child, but I would be wrong to do it. You are
Yazid’s second, and if what you say is true, Brutus’s
now, as well.”
    Ahmed ground his teeth. “If? You a ccuse me of lying? I nearly died with him!”
    Sandilianus waved a hand
dismissively. “I accuse you of nothing, but you protest much.
That makes me wonder.” He cocked his head to one side and
smiled, balling his hands into fists again, as if considering
accepting the challenge after all. “What mission did Brutus
give you?”
    By now, most of the others had
gathered around and were listening. Ahmed looked about, but saw
little faith on their faces. Sandilianus was the key, then. He alone
would determine how things went.
    Ahmed raised the sword again,
overhead, on display. “Brutus gave me his papers and this
blade. The papers, he charged me to return to Prince Philip. The
blade, he gave to me as my own.”
    “Why would he do that,
abandon his duty and turn it over to you?”
    “He was trapped. The
water was rising, and he did not want to drown. He told me to stop
behaving like a woman and do what I had to do.”
    Sandilianus slapped his knees
and laughed out loud. “You speak truth, then. Those are surely
Brutus’s words.”He raised his open hands for all to see,
and the battle was over, the tension between them evaporating into
nothing.“So that is why he gave you the sword, eh?”
    “Aye.”
    Sandilianus nodded respectfully
at this. “And how does it sit with you? Have you ever killed a
man before?”
    Ahmed found he could not quite
meet Sandilianus’s gaze, and his throat felt swollen and
thick. “Bandits and such, yes. But never a man I knew. I did
not like it. I did what I had to do.”
    Sandilianus rose to his feet,
still nodding. “Then Brutus chose well.” He turned to
the rest of the men, looking them over, daring them to defy him as
he called over his shoulder, “What are your orders, sir?”
    Ahmed felt the mantle of
leadership settle upon his shoulders as if it were a physical
weight. It was heavier than he had expected, no longer theory,
second guessing and ‘if I were in charge’ swaggering.
    First,
I must take stock of what I have . He counted the faces.
Nineteen men, plus himself, an army of twenty. How many were
Brutus’s men, and how many were sailors? It
doesn’t matter. They are all Xanthians. “Our
goals are simple. We must survive, and we must find a way home. We
have neither supplies nor a ship. We have no money, and so we cannot
pay. We have no friends, and so we cannot borrow. How many are
armed?” Ahmed was pleased to see all but one arm raised high.
    Sandilianus laughed out loud.
“Bashir, you fool! How many times have I told you, better to
lose your dick than your blade!”
    Bashir grinned sheepishly.
“Better to lose my blade than drown, eh? I had to hack through
a wall to get out, and the blade stuck.”
    Ahmed chuckled at this,
remembering his own narrow escape. “Then you will use a club
for now. There are plenty on this beach to be had.” Laughter
rippled through the men at this, and some of the men kicked at
wreckage from the ship to accent the point. Sandilianus nodded in
approval.
    Ahmed waited for the chatter to
die down before continuing. “We go to war of necessity, not
enmity. We will harm no one unless we must, and we will take nothing
we do not need. As soon as it is dark, I, Sandilianus, and three men
of his choosing will