by Gav Thorpe
Loordin rattled off a handful of names and the chosen men left with him. Having already taken the lead in organising the remnants of the company so far, Gelthius felt the expectation of the other legionnaires increasing. They were looking at him, alert and ready for orders. He stifled a sigh and a yawn.
"Right enough," he muttered before taking a deep breath. "Whether we're staying or going, sticking together or splitting, we'll need more than just our battle gear. I want foraging parties to scout around and get us bags, sacks, fodder, food, carts and whatever else you can find."
Pleased to have purpose, the men nodded their acknowledgements and left with a scraping of chairs and muttering. Once he was on his own, Gelthius slumped into a chair at the table and put his head in his hands.
"There's gonna be a whole lot of folks need something to look up to soon enough." Gelthius looked up and saw that Muuril had returned, his face and arms wet, hair slicked back with water. "Whole empire's falling apart."
"And you think we can put it back together?" said Gelthius. He shook his head and lowered his hands to the table. "Two dozen soldiers ain't going to save the empire."
"We're from the legions, we stick together," said Muuril, sitting opposite the captain. "I've been thinking."
"Save us from your thinking," said Gelthius.
"Hear me out. Best place to head is for the Greenwater, right? Maybe head down to Cosuan, or jump off somewhere along the way."
"I suppose so."
"So let's head to Narun, get a ship and be on our way," Muuril continued. He was not a sly man and Gelthius could tell that there was something other than a river voyage on the mind of the sergeant.
"Narun? Just a few days from Askh, right?"
"If we hear anything about Ullsaard while we get there, we'll be in the right place. If not, then I'll leave you be. It's a busy road, nobody will notice a few more legionnaires. Come on, what do you say?"
Gelthius considered the sergeant's proposal. It had merit. All of them had been locked up for a season and more and knew virtually nothing of what had been happening in the wider empire. It would certainly be wise to head dawnwards, away from any Salphor attacks; away from Captain Lutaan. Narun made as much sense as anywhere else in that case.
"We give everybody a choice, right?" said the captain. "If they don't want to come, they don't have to."
"No, fuck that," said Muuril. "We're either Thirteenth or we're not. At Narun we'll give them the choice."
"That's a long walk, with disappointment at the end of it," warned Gelthius.
"If we learn Ullsaard is dead for sure on the way, I'll leave you to decide what you want," promised the sergeant.
Scratching a stubbled cheek, Gelthius thought some more. From outside came the noise of chickens being rounded up and the thump of men breaking in barred doors on the outhouses. A lifetime of legion rules had ingrained obedience into them, but if they decided to turn on Gelthius there was nothing he could do. He was uneasy with Muuril's stubbornness, and there was something to be said for Loordin's plan to go to his family in Thedraan.
Thinking of his family made Gelthius sigh heavily. If the empire was collapsing, he wanted to be with them, but if there was a chance he could help them more by aiding Ullsaard – however unlikely that seemed – then did he owe it to them to put his personal feelings aside and seek out the rightful king? As a Salphor he was not naturally filled with loyalty to men of lofty position, and Ullsaard had done things that had an gered Gelthius considerably; on reflection Ullsaard had done better by Gelthius than worse, and perhaps deserved to be given a chance.
"Right enough," said Gelthius. "Narun it is, unless we hear anything sooner. After that, you're on your own."
GERIA ROAD, NALANOR
Late Spring, 213th year of Askh
The wooded hills of Nalanor seethed with armed men moving between the trees overlooking the paved road that headed straight as an architect's ruler towards Geria. From the road all seemed as normal, but just half a mile behind the tree line, three legion forts housed the warriors of the Second, Fourteenth and Seventeenth. Company-strength patrols moved back and forth above the road, watching for the approach of the enemy; seventeen thousand men awaited the call to fall upon their unsuspecting foes.
So far the waiting troops had seen nothing more than farm carts and trade caravans; a phenomenon that concerned the council of Harrakil, appointed General by King Urikh. With his fellow first captains, Naadlin and Canaasin, the general looked down at the stretch of road from a vantage point overlooking the Gesian River.
"No refugees, no panic," said the general, arms folded. "If Anasind's men were moving along the road, I'd expect there to be some sign of their advance."
"We have outposts at each crossing twenty miles up and down the Gesian, if they try to come from hotwards or coldwards," replied Naadlin. As the most experienced of the three, his words carried weight in Harrakil's thoughts. The commander of the Second pulled off his helm and wiped sweat from his wrinkled face with the sleeve of his tunic. "We'll have at least four days' warning to pull back to Geria if need be."
"I'm with the general," said Canaasin. "We've been here ten days already, and sent patrols up the road each day. If Anasind is coming directly from Thedraan he should have been here by now. Are you sure they are coming for Geria?"
"It makes sense," said Naadlin. "Take Geria and you can throttle the trade up to Narun, and that means strangling Askh too. The information from the Brotherhood was precise."
With a doubtful grunt, Harrakil moved out from the cover of the trees, stepping into the glare of the sun. With his back to the morning light, he looked duskwards along the road and saw nothing but the occasional abada-drawn wagon and traders with hand carts. If Anasind and the legions returning from Salphoria were coming for Geria they were not arriving that day. He growled to himself, feeling that Urikh had made a mistake. He did not want to admit such a thing in front of the other captains; his position as general depended upon them having faith in the new king. It had been a struggle to convince them that Anasind was a rebel in the first place.
"I don't know how, but Anasind has got the drop on us, I'm sure of it," said Canaasin. "We should move to defend Geria directly."
"That means taking our troops back across the Greenwater, severely limiting our reach," argued Naadlin. "Anasind could march past thirty miles away and we would not be able to respond in time to stop him turning coldwards."
The conflicting views of his companions did no help Harrakil's mood as he rejoined them. He grimaced as he considered the decision he had to make.
"The labours of command," said Naadlin, smiling at the general's discomfort. "That's what you get for being the king's favourite."
Harrakil said nothing. The position of general had been given to him in return for his continued loyalty, but it was clear from the attitude of his fellow captains that it did not guarantee respect. Harrakil suspected that Naadlin and Canaasin were only with him because it offered a break from tedious garrison duty in Maasra and Okhar.
"Three more days," announced the general. "If Anasind and his army are not here in the next three days, he is not coming at all. Nobody takes that long to march from Ersua, even if they have crossed all of Salphoria first."
"So what do we do if he doesn't come?" asked Naadlin. Harrakil knew what the next question was going to be; he had been avoiding asking it for several days now. It was a question for which the general had no answer. "If Anasind doesn't want Geria, where is he?"
NARUN, ASKHOR
Late Spring, 213th year of Askh
I
The capture of the massive docks and wharfs of Narun was proceeding nicely, according to the stream of reports being brought back to Anasind by his second captains. Several warships had been seized ten miles to hotwards by Donar and the Fifth, creating a blockade to stop any ships heading downriver towards Geria. Three nights of forced marching had taken Meesiu and the Third across the Greenwater at Caarfin, to create a bar
rier between Narun and the Wall, preventing any communication with Askh. Meanwhile the Eighth, Thirteenth, and Sixteenth had marched into the city itself. Isolated and faced with three battle-hardened legions, the men and soldiers of the Brotherhood had capitulated without a fight.
All in all the advance had been pretty bloodless. It seemed that Ullsaard had been right that the Brotherhood had the means to warn Urikh of an attack on Geria and Noran had played his part well. The bulk of Urikh's forces were far away, leaving only the men of the First to defend Askh itself.
There were some scuffles and arguments with ship's captains and crews as the thousands of legionnaires fanned out through the intersecting quays and bridges, boarding the ships at berth and commandeering boats and galleys to be taken out to the ships lying at anchor in the middle of the massive artificial lake. It was to be expected that there would be resistance, and Anasind had told his men to be restrained if possible. A few hotheads had tried to weigh anchor and get away, but they had soon turned back when the war engines in the twin forts at the mouth of the Greenwater had fired warning shots into the river; any ship trying to leave would be sunk by the massed batteries meant to defend the wharfs against attack.
In fact, the whole campaign had gone so smoothly Anasind was at a bit of a loss what to do next. Noran had insisted that Ullsaard would send word of the next part of his plan, but the general knew that it would be difficult for the king. Short on men that could be trusted, Ullsaard had been neatly isolated by Urikh and the Brotherhood, and it had only been the foresight to bring back the legions that gave the true king any leverage at all.
Having set up a command post in the warehouses attached to the King's Wharfs, Anasind stood on the roof terrace of the ship master's house, offered an unparalleled view of the city. He had dismissed the latest of the heralds bearing word from the captains moving through Narun, and was alone with Noran. There had not been much opportunity for the two of them to speak candidly, what with the swift march and the constant presence of lower officers.
"What do you think he wants us to do next?" Anasind asked, resting his arms on the wooden rail of the terrace. Noran had found a jug of watered wine and two goblets and offered one to the general, which was accepted gratefully. It was hot, unseasonably so for Narun, and the liquid brought a moment of refreshment. "It will not be as simple as taking Askh, will it?"
"No, it will not be that simple, not this time," said the herald. There was something in Noran's voice that hinted at fear, but Anasind had never considered his companion to be cowardly.
"What is wrong?" asked the general. "What am I getting myself into?"
Noran shook his head and downed the contents of his goblet.
"Nothing that we need to worry about just yet." Anasind could hear the forced bravado. "Let us just clear one hurdle at a time."
"But you know something that I should know of, I can tell. Ullsaard trusts me, you know that. So can you."
"It is not trust that is the issue, general, it really is not," replied Noran, placing the half-empty jug on the rail next to Anasind. "Anyway, to the matter in hand. You are right that the First and the taking of Askh is not the biggest obstacle to overcome. To be honest, once the people of Askh see that Ullsaard is alive, I think he expects the city to surrender itself back to his rule. Urikh's reign is based on the flimsiest of lies, when you think about it. The Brotherhood is another matter."
There was that flutter of uncertainty again, and Anasind could not ignore it.
"It is time that the Brotherhood's power was curbed, but they will accept that," said the general. "They can cause problems, but despite everything they will see that a return to stability is the best option for the empire."
Noran looked at Anasind for a long time, saying nothing. He refilled his goblet but did not drink from it.
"Do you remember the man who came with Ullsaard before we took Magilnada?" asked the herald. "The one with the golden eyes?"
"I could not forget him, even though I wish I could," replied the general. "The new High Brother, yes?"
"Yes. A man called Lakhyri, though I use the term 'man' loosely. He is using Urikh as a puppet, and I think it is his desire to dispense with kings entirely. He has already forced Urikh to dismiss the governors and he seeks for the Brotherhood to control the empire directly. He would set himself up as ruler in place of the Blood. Or that is what I believe."
"He will find that a task beyond his resources," said Anasind, turning to face Noran, one elbow resting on the rail, cup in hand. "They have no military strength, and the few legions that follow Urikh will soon be brought back into line. If they think they can choke us with a withdrawal of their services as they tried before, they will find Ullsaard less forgiving. I think it is the Brotherhood that will find itself surplus to the empire's needs, not the king."
"They have other, less tangible powers at their disposal," said Noran, picking his words with visible care. The noble turned his eyes to dawnwards, his gaze moving to something in the far distance. "I think I see now something of their purpose. Since the birth of the empire they have crushed the old beliefs, teaching us that there is nothing in the world save for the mortal and physical. They have lied to us."
Anasind laughed, but it was from nervousness not humour.
"You sound like a Salphor, talking about spirits and otherworldly forces."
Noran turned on him with a fierce look, one hand gripping the rail tightly.
"I have seen things that have no mortal explanation. You have witnessed it too, if you would open your eyes to it. You remember the plagues and snows that beset you when you fought against Lutaar? What of my recovery from a never-ending sleep? Did you not consider how that was possible? What did you think of a man with eyes of gold? These are not natural things, and I have since encountered far worse."
A chill trickled through Anasind despite the warm sun. To mask his unease he took a swig of wine and waved a hand to encompass Narun.
"Their power cannot be so strong if they let us walk into the greatest docks in the empire without resistance. If they are not bound by mortal limits, why is it that they did not see us coming?"
"You do not believe me?" Noran shook his head. "The Brotherhood have done their job well."
"In Salphoria our foes called upon the spirits to aid them, but the Salphors fell to our spears and swords all the same. Do not take offence, but I think that you have not recovered from your ordeals and your mind is prey to simple tricks and malign suggestions."
"I wish that you were right," said Noran. He shrugged. "Better to believe my own thoughts unsafe than to acknowledge that which I have seen as truth."
A commotion in the street below drew the attention of both men and Anasind leaned out over the rail to see what was happening. A handful of soldiers were approaching along the street, calling for the legionnaires in their way to clear a path. Anasind recognised Donar in the knot of men striding towards the command post, surrounded by a cadre of legionnaires. Beside the first captain walked a large man, clean-shaven and with hair hanging to his shoulders. The face was unfamiliar but there was a strut to the man's step and a confidence in his bearing that struck a chord in the general's mind.
"Well, that is one less question to vex us," Noran said with a laugh.
"What do you mean?"
Noran pointed at the stranger with Donar and grinned.
"The king has arrived."
II
Ullsaard entered the building and found Anasind hurrying down a stairway, Noran just behind. The surprise of the general was evident in his expression, but Ullsaard was happy to see a familiar face. After recent tribulations, both political and domestic, the sight of Anasind filled the king with a joy he had not known for some time. Anasind's presence signified a shift in the fortunes of the king, and heralded the conclusion of the whole sorry affair that had engulfed Ullsaard and the empire. Before Anasind could say anything, Ullsaard stepped up and threw an arm around the general, slapping him on the back as
they embraced.
"I've never been so happy to see another man," Ullsaard said with a grin, stepping back. "That and the thousands you've brought with you."
"I am equally happy to see you alive and in good spirits, my king," said Anasind, reeling slightly from Ullsaard's greeting.
Looking around, Ullsaard noted an absence.
"Where is Aegenuis?" he asked, expecting the Salphorian king to be close at hand, as he had instructed. Anasind's smile faded and Ullsaard's mood darkened quickly. "Why is he not here?"
"In order to move swiftly to your aid, I had to make a fresh bargain with Aegenuis," Anasind explained, looking away. The general waved towards a curtained doorway and led Ullsaard into an adjoining room. Within was a small room, furnished with low couches and a table strewn with tablets and slates. "His son, Medorian, escaped the failed attack against us and had been rebuilding support amongst the Salphorian chieftains. It would have taken more time and men than we had to spare, so I impressed upon Aegenuis the need for him to restore his authority."