by Gav Thorpe
Ten abreast, the army wound down the side of the ridge towards the road. Seeing the approaching legions, bearing their polished icons, crests on their helms, shields gleaming, the people on the road made way, beating their abada to pull their carts out into the fields, shooing families from the legionnaires' path.
Ullsaard smiled to himself, pleased with the conduct of his men. As he rode along their lines he saw that were all in step, spears held rigid, backs straight. They knew they marched into Askhor, many of them for the first time. He could feel pride emanating from rank after rank, their footfalls a thunderous beat as they headed for the gate.
Ahead the gatehouse loomed across the road, still open to traffic. Ullsaard saw men gathering on the ramparts, their speartips shining against the overcast sky. For a moment he thought they were mustering to defend the gate and he reined Blackfang to a halt, suddenly terrified. He expected to hear the splashing of water and grinding of gears at any time; to see the square of light between the towers narrow and disappear.
Anasind fell out from his company and approached, marching stiffly across the road.
"I guess they want to see what real soldiers look like, eh?" he said, looking towards the Wall.
"I think you guess right," replied Ullsaard, hiding his relief when the standards of the vanguard passed into the shadow of the gatehouse without incident. "Not since Nemtun's triumphs have these walls seen legions returning from battle."
"Do you think we'll be receiving honours, General?" asked Anasind.
"What's that?"
"I know you've been quiet about why we've come here, but we think we know what you're up to, General."
"You do?" Ullsaard studied Anasind's face for some sign of disapproval. There was none. "And what do you think that is?"
"You've organised us city honours, we reckon. You know, like legions used to get after a conquest."
Ullsaard remembered the tradition, though no city parade had been held in more than twenty years. Victorious legions were granted leave to enter the city, march along the Royal Way, circle the palace and leave. At the palace, the king would hang honours on the standards of the legions, which would be carried proudly for the rest of their existence.
Honours were the last thing Ullsaard expected from Lutaar, though perhaps next year if they did well in Salphoria the king would recognise their efforts.
"We'll see," Ullsaard told Anasind. The First Captain winked knowingly and headed back to his subordinates.
With mixed hope and fear, Ullsaard urged Blackfang into a trot and headed towards the gate.
III
Ullsaard decided to walk into Askh, leaving his legions to make camp a few miles outside the city walls. Undoubtedly word would have already been taken to the king of the presence of so many soldiers, so Ullsaard hurried up the road with Luamid, Rondin and fifty legionnaires from the Thirteenth in tow.
As with crossing the Wall, their entry into Askh was not barred in any way. Sentries at the gate stared incredulously at the general who a season earlier had been welcomed with a full parade, now hastening along the Royal Way with a relative handful of men. Ullsaard could imagine the rumours already spreading through the city; the camp was clearly visible from the road and walls, and such an appearance was sure to cause comment.
Though there was no cheering crowd this time, Ullsaard felt he was the centre of attention as he marched up the mound toward the a palace, garbed in his campaign gear. Workers fixing walls and roofs downed their tools to stare, drovers allowed their herds to wander while they gazed at the imposing general and his entourage. Ullsaard could see the street vendors gossiping with their customers, shielding their mouths with their hands while their eyes fixed on him. Amongst them he saw the black robes of the Brotherhood, their eyes watchful in the shadows of their hoods. He did not glance behind, but fancied that a growing number of people were following, drawn by the spectacle.
He wondered for a moment if he should stop and address the forming crowd. It occurred to him that the sympathy of the common people would be no bad thing in the dispute he knew was swiftly coming. He dismissed the thought. He wanted to present himself directly to the king, under the full right of the law, not arrive as some rabble-rouser.
He had wondered how he would feel, this close to confronting Lutaar. He realised that he was enjoying the thrill of it; he felt the same way he did before a battle. Every step he took closer to the palace filled him with more confidence. The difficult part had been done: deciding on this course of action. Setting the scheme in motion had been the hard part, all he had to do now was hold his nerve and tell the king what he wanted.
It was what he deserved, as Aalun had pointed out. More than that, it was his right by Askhan law. As they turned onto the road encircling the palace, Ullsaard conceded that while he had been a little underhanded in bringing his legions here, their presence should be no argument against his legal claim.
His thoughts were broken by a shout from behind. He looked over his shoulder to see that several hundred people had gathered on the Royal Way no more than a spear's cast behind him. He sensed some hostility, and could see anger in the eyes of those at the front of the mob. Black hoods moved through the crowd, no doubt whispering words of encouragement.
"I don't like this," said Luamid. The First Captain put his hand to the hilt of his sword, but Ullsaard grabbed his wrist to prevent him drawing his weapon.
"Let us just get to the palace quickly," said the general, picking up the pace of his long strides.
Around him the legionnaires looked confused, as people gathered under the trees lining the road, their arms crossed in disapproval, scowls on their faces.
They reached the gate and found a company of palace guards barring their path. They stood with spears held to salute, shields lowered, but there was no doubt that they had been ordered to stop Ullsaard from entering. Though he had hoped that such a thing would not come to pass, he had been prepared for this eventuality.
"Wait here," Ullsaard told his men as he pulled a roll of parchment from his belt.
He strode up to the captain of the guard and thrust the scroll towards him.
"These are my orders, directing me to report to Prince Aalun as soon as I reach the city," Ullsaard growled. "If you attempt to impede me or my men, you will be disobeying a command from one of the Blood. The penalty for such an offence is death by hanging."
The captain did not spare a glance at the parchment. The officer looked away from Ullsaard's fierce stare and stepped back.
"Let them pass," he muttered.
Ullsaard strode straight towards the lines of legionnaires, who bumped into one another and trod on each other's feet as they parted before the general. Taking his lead, Rondin and Luamid waved the bodyguard onward and they plunged through the widening gap made by their leader. A few of Ullsaard's men jeered and snarled at the palace guards until Rondin silenced them.
Boots and sandals slapped on stone as they jogged up the stairs. The doors to the palace had been closed when they were at the bottom, but opened up as Ullsaard reached the upper steps. The widening doors revealed a worried-looking Noran. He raced across the hall and grabbed Ullsaard by the arm.
"What by Askhos's hairy balls are you thinking?" Noran demanded.
"I am here to claim my rights," said Ullsaard, shaking off his friend's grip. Noran followed him inside, like a dog at its master's side.
"Your rights?" said the herald. "What right have you got to claim a change to the succession?"
Ullsaard stopped on the spot, Rondin almost walking into him. The general rounded on Noran.
"What did you say?"
"I warned you not to get caught up in politics, but you wouldn't listen. You just had to back Aalun's claim, didn't you?"
"I don't understand. Tell me what's happened!"
"Prince Aalun has told the king that he has your support to be named heir, and that your legions stand ready to swear loyalty to him and him alone."
"He's
done what?" Ullsaard's bellow echoed from the corridor walls as he grabbed the front of Noran's tunic and hauled the herald to the tips of his toes. The herald wrested himself free and straightened out his clothes with an indignant look.
"Prince Aalun says that your legions are loyal to him and support his claim to be made heir over Kalmud."
Ullsaard turned away and stalked down the length of the corridor. The serving staff scurried from his path like mice bolting from a cat, disappearing through archways and ducking into doorways hidden by wall hangings. The clatter of the general's bodyguard followed him up the hall as he thrust open the door at the far end.
In the hall beyond he was confronted by more legionnaires, more than a company of them. Three senior Brothers regarded him through the eye slits of their faceless masks. They stood between the general and the doors leading towards the throne room. No words were spoken, but their intent was clear. Ullsaard cut to his right, quickening his pace even more, and headed towards the royal apartments, his men and Noran jogging after him.
"Where are you going?" Noran asked breathlessly.
"To find Aalun!" Ullsaard snarled.
IV
The prince's apartment was in tumult. The door was opened wide.
"Wait here," Ullsaard told his bodyguard before he marched in, Noran tagging along behind. Every chamber and hall and corridor bustled with servants filling chests and sacks with Aalun's possessions. Ullsaard grabbed one of the men.
"Where is your master?" he demanded. The servant waved uncertainly towards the rear rooms. Ullsaard let go of him and continued down the main passageway, glancing through arches and doorways for a sign of Aalun. He found the prince in the windowed rotunda facing the gardens. Aalun stood with one foot up on a bench, staring out of a window.
"What have you said?" barked Ullsaard as he strode into the room. Aalun turned sharply, surprised.
"You made it!" he said with obvious delight. "I knew you would come."
Ullsaard stopped just a pace from the prince, fists clenched. Aalun held his ground. The two stared at each other.
"I am still a Prince of the Blood," Aalun said quietly.
Ullsaard met his gaze for a while longer before stepping back, averting his eyes. Aalun sat down with a long sigh.
"Those cretinous governors have turned on me," he said. "Despite promises and bargains, they've sided with my father and called for my exile for disputing the succession. Even Murian! I don't know what my father has offered them for their support, but they've all fallen into line."
"And why is it that I find my path barred by Brothers and legionnaires?" said Ullsaard.
"My father does not want to grant you an audience," replied the prince. "If you cannot make your petition in person, you cannot claim your personal campaign. Now that you have your legions here, things might be a bit different."
"I don't see how," said Ullsaard. "The king has obviously decided to call our bluff. There's not a lot we can do now."
"Don't be so defeatist, Ullsaard. This is just a setback. We'll be able to turn the governors around. It will just take some time, that is all."
"But you are leaving now?" asked Noran.
Aalun looked past Ullsaard, seeing the herald for the first time.
"I am exiled," the prince said quietly. "Banned not only from the city but from all lands within the Wall. I've wrangled and argued just to remain here long enough for Ullsaard to arrive. If I stay any longer I will invite even more trouble. No, it will be best to leave for the time being and let things cool down. We will regroup in Nalanor and consider our options."
"And what is to happen to me?" said Ullsaard.
"Well, my father's edict does not name you, but it does extend to all so-called conspirators and agents of mine. I think the implication is clear."
"Exile? I'll lose my command. I'll lose everything!"
"That will not happen," Aalun assured, grabbing Ullsaard by both shoulders. "If we stick together, we can still make this happen."
Ullsaard tried to understand this turnaround in events. Less than an hour ago he had been steeling himself to make his claim to lead a campaign into Salphoria. Now he was on the brink of ruin. The king would take everything he had: his generalship, his legions, his lands, his…
"My family!" He pulled away from Aalun and headed for the door.
"They are safe!" Aalun called after him. The general swung back to face the prince.
"How do you know?"
"I feared my father would use them against you, so I had your wives moved to one of the houses I own in the city. We can take them with us when we leave."
"Where? Which house? What about my sons?"
"Ullnaar is protected by the sanctuary of the colleges," Aalun said. "Jutaar is still in the guard of Allon, far away. As for Urikh, nobody knows where he is. Somewhere in Enair, it seems. There is nothing to worry about."
Noran spoke from the doorway.
"There is no reason to believe the king would harm them. Can I speak with you for a moment, Ullsaard?"
There was something in the tone of his friend's voice, urgent and insistent. With a glance toward Aalun, who nodded his assent, Ullsaard followed Noran out of the apartment into the corridor. Luamid and Rondin had positioned the bodyguard at either end of the passage, where several harassed officials were demanding to be let past. The First Captains saw Ullsaard leaving the apartment and started towards him, but he held up a hand to stop them.
"This is not your fault," Noran said. The herald was quiet but firm. "The king's dispute is with Aalun. Why would you ever think you could change the succession?"
"I didn't come here to change the succession!" hissed Ullsaard. "I just want to state my right to lead my legions on a campaign of my choosing."
"You want to do what? What madness is this?"
"It's not madness, it is my right. Aalun explained it to me. I came to Askh to petition the king to accept my right to command a campaign against Salphoria."
"Oh." Noran seemed disappointed that his friend had not been a conspirator in the quiet but bitter power struggle between Aalun and his father. "Oh! Aalun has played you for a fool. The king thinks you are here to enforce his claim to the succession. You should send Lutaar your promise that you have no intention of doing that. Though there may be some repercussions, there is no reason to be caught up any more than you already are."
"I can't abandon Aalun," Ullsaard said. "A fine way to repay the favour he has shown me, to let him be thrown out in this way."
"Don't get involved in something this big," warned Noran. "You were right before, it is not in your nature."
"Perhaps I need to make it part of my nature. It seems to me that service and loyalty are not enough to earn a man the rewards and recognition he deserves. Sometimes he has to demand them."
"Don't do anything hasty. Take Aalun and your family out of the city. I'll have a nose around to see what I can find out and I will come to you tomorrow. Promise me you won't do anything rash."
"Promise you? Why didn't you send me a warning of how Aalun was using my name? Why did you wait until I was at the palace?"
"I did not know that you were planning to come to Askh, of all things. Aalun kept that secret to himself. When messengers arrived two days ago that you were at the Wall, the whole palace was in uproar and that was the first I knew of it. What do you plan to do now?"
"Just as both you and Aalun suggest. I'll leave Askh with the prince, and I'll wait for you in camp. I am sure we can work this out."
Noran looked unconvinced.
"Your plan is to wait and see what happens?"
"Just for the time being. If need be, I'll withdraw my legions beyond the Wall and return alone to speak with Lutaar. Perhaps he'll be more reasonable if he doesn't feel threatened."
"You've already marched here with an army, that's a clear signal of intent, my friend. But you may be right. Maybe."
"Do you have a better suggestion? I would be happy to hear it."
&nb
sp; "That depends on what it is you want to achieve."
"I want to lead my legions on a worthy campaign, not fuck about in the desert chasing savages. I want what is mine by right."
Noran pursed his lips, something he was prone to when agitated. "Then I have no ideas for you."
"I'll see you tomorrow," said Ullsaard. "I hope you bring me good news."
Noran nodded and turned away, stepping quickly through the legionnaires. At a wave from Ullsaard, Luamid and Rondin approached.
"We are going to form an escort for Prince Aalun," the general told them. "I don't like the look of that mob that was forming outside. The Brotherhood are up to something. Don't let anyone in or out of this area."
Rondin saluted and turned away, leaving Ullsaard with Luamid. The First Captain of the Sixteenth smiled ruefully.
"No honours then, General?"
Ullsaard couldn't help but smile as well.
"Not at the moment, Captain," he replied. Luamid saluted sharply and headed off towards the other end of the passage.
Ullsaard walked back into the prince's chambers. Travel chests and boxes were piling around the door. Aalun was in a banqueting hall, directing his servants to remove the wall hangings. Ullsaard called out to him. "Is your armour packed?" Aalun nodded and pointed to a box in the hallway. "Take that and one chest of clothes," said Ullsaard. "What do you mean? I can't live with just one chest of clothes."
"If all goes well, you can send for more of your gear later. If it doesn't… Well, a change of clothes is going to be the least of your problems."
V
It was two hours into High Watch when the prince was ready to leave. The legionnaires formed up, thirty in front, twenty behind, with Aalun, Ullsaard and the two First Captains between. Several porters carried three chests between them — Ullsaard had relented slightly and allowed the prince to bring a number of maps, scrolls and other important documents from his library.