The Crown of blood tcob-1

by Gav Thorpe

  "What about Meerina?" Ullsaard asked Aalun when all were gathered outsider the royal apartments.

  "Who?" Aalun was distracted, obviously unhappy at the circumstances of his departure.

  "Your wife, Princess Meerina," said Ullsaard. "Is she not coming with you?"

  Aalun considered the possibility for a moment and then shook his head.

  "No, I think not," said the prince. "As tempting as it is to have her around to fuck, I could do without her fawning and gossiping. She'll be safe enough staying here."

  At a nod from Ullsaard, the group set off.

  They marched along the halls of the palace without hindrance, and the doors were opened for them. Outside, the guard company still waited, their captain eyeing Ullsaard sullenly as he passed, though he raised a fist in salute to Aalun. Ullsaard bit back his anger and let the insult pass.

  At the palace gates, it was a different matter. A sizeable crowd had gathered outside, several hundred strong, and at the sight of Ullsaard's entourage they erupted with boos and shouts. The gates swung inwards and the frontmost members of the crowd were thrust a few steps into the palace grounds. They staggered to a stop in front of the shields and spears of the legionnaires, suddenly hesitant.

  A Brother emerged from the mass, his pale face hidden by the great fold of his hood. He raised his arm, black sleeve falling back from a bony hand, and pointed accusingly at Ullsaard.

  "Traitor," the Brother said in a matter-of-fact tone. The crowd's baying increased in volume.

  "Stand back for the Blood!" Luamid shouted above the noise, but the crowd would not give way. He looked to Ullsaard for instructions.

  At that moment, a stone flew over the heads of the mob and crashed into the brick courtyard inside the gate. Other missiles — eggs, vegetables, stones and clay pots — sailed through the air. The legionnaires closed protectively towards their charges, raising their shields. Small objects clattered and bounced around Ullsaard.

  "What are you waiting for?" Aalun snarled. "Clear a path!"

  Ullsaard looked at the wall of angry faces and heard the jeers. He could still see the black cowls of the Brotherhood amongst their number, and slowly the mob was creeping closer, pushed by the weight of those at the back.

  Ullsaard tapped Luamid on the shoulder.

  "Do it," said the general. "Use your spears if you have to."

  Luamid gave a nod of resignation and drew his sword.

  "Legionnaires of the Thirteenth!" he bellowed. "Clear a path for your general and prince!"

  Having been pelted with rocks and filth, the soldiers were happy to oblige. With a throaty roar, they lowered their shields and aimed the tips of their spears towards the mob. The protestors at the front backed away, fear in their eyes. Urged on by Luamid, the legionnaires pressed towards the crowd, advancing slowly and in step.

  "Lock shields!" ordered the First Captain. The front rank of legionnaires followed the command, tightening their formation with the ominous clatter of shields being drawn together. "Full march!"

  With every pace, the soldiers let out a shout. As those at the forefront of the mob turned to run, they found their path blocked by more people pushing towards the gates. The people coming through saw what was happening and tried to stop, panic rippling back through the crowd.

  The Brother who had pointed at Ullsaard disappeared from sight into the mass. A moment later an old man stepped up, puffing out his chest.

  "We're citizens of Askh!" he declared boldly. "You would not raise your weapons against us."

  The small phalanx continued on regardless of the protest. A legionnaire at the left of the line thrust his spear, taking the old man in the gut. He fell with a cry and suddenly the murmurs of disquiet turned to screams of fear. As easily as the speartip had pierced the man's stomach, the knot of legionnaires drove into the mob. Following behind, Ullsaard splashed through puddles of blood and had to step over contorted bodies and the writhing wounded.

  Like a flock of birds startled by a hunter, the crowd scattered, running in all directions as the legionnaires pushed relentlessly ahead. The path to the gate was clear and Luamid gave the order to break shields and advance at the double. Trotting along the Royal Way, Ullsaard was shocked by how quiet the city had become. Fearful faces peered from doorways and windows as the soldiers ran along the street.

  "Where are my family?" Ullsaard asked Aalun.

  "The Grain Way, at the bottom of the hill," said the prince. "It is a house with a red wall and a mural of Askhos conquering the Maasrites."

  "Did you hear that? You know where that is?" Ullsaard said to Rondin. The First Captain nodded. "Take twenty men and escort my wives to the camp."

  "Yes, General," replied Rondin.

  "Luia, the dark-haired one, may give you trouble. Tie her up and drag her if you have to."

  "I will, General," Rondin said with a grin, though Ullsaard did not feel like smiling.

  Rondin peeled away with his contingent, vanishing along a side street. The main group followed the Royal Way down towards the main city gate. Wondering whether gates would be closed against him had become a recent habit for Ullsaard, and he was pleased to see that his exit from the city was not barred. The general called for his men to slow to a march.

  "We're an escort of the Blood, not fugitives," he growled to the legionnaires. "Let's bloody act like it."

  Keeping step, Ullsaard and his soldiers marched out of the gate with straight backs and shouldered spears. The guards on the towers to either side looked down with surprise as the entourage passed beneath them, but no challenge was called. A dozen paces later Ullsaard was out of Askh and on the road duskwards.

  He called the group to a halt half a mile from the gate, where he waited anxiously until he saw the shields of Rondin's men emerge from the city. They pulled a handcart on which Luia, Meliu and Allenya were sitting, amongst piles of hurriedly bundled clothes and small boxes. The legionnaires slowed and the cart trundled to a stop next to Ullsaard.

  "Hello, husband," said Allenya. Though her expression was stern, Ullsaard could see amusement glittering in her eyes. "It is a good time to get some country air."

  "Yes, it is. The country in autumn can be beautiful.

  "You have caused quite a fuss."

  "Sorry, my love," Ullsaard replied, eyes downcast. "I didn't mean for this to happen."

  "Of course you did not, husband," Allenya said softly. "I am sure you will sort everything out for the best."

  "I will."

  VI

  Ullsaard said nothing as he heartily attacked the venison on his plate. It had been a terrible day and he was happy to occupy his mouth with eating rather than talking. Ullsaard had donated his pavilion to Prince Aalun, and had taken Rondin's tent instead. The First Captain had moved his gear in with Anasind without complaint, though Ullsaard would find some way to reward them both for the sacrifice.

  Allenya did her best to keep the mood around the table congenial, talking about everything and nothing: the prices of clothes in the market; hiring a new kitchen maid; the unseasonal warm weather; the embroidery on the walls of the pavilion; the quality of the meat. She did not chatter, but spoke quietly and calmly about these things, as if they were back in their palace apartment.

  Meliu picked idly at her food, avoiding Ullsaard's gaze. Her eyes were still rimmed red from crying. Luia stared daggers at her husband throughout the meal, and did not eat. Ullsaard was not sure what she was more annoyed by — their eviction from the city, or the fact that Ullsaard had ordered his legionnaires to escort her tame wrestler from the camp. He had also instructed Anasind to quietly pass the word around the army that any man found consorting with Luia would be flogged and beheaded; the last thing he needed was to waste time worrying about the disruption that would be caused by his wayward wife's sexual appetites.

  When they were done, the Maasrites silently entered and cleared the table, bringing wine and water in earthenware jugs. At this, Meliu brightened slightly and insisted on pourin
g Ullsaard's drink. He noticed her measure of wine to water was very generous and suspected that she was trying to get him drunk.

  He drank sparingly, wanting to keep his head clear, and said nothing, until even Allenya's supply of gossip and observations ran dry. The tent walls flapped in the wind and ropes creaked outside. The call of the sentries split the night air and the bell sounded the third hour of Duskwatch.

  "This is ridiculous!" snapped Luia, standing.

  "Sit down," Ullsaard said. She stopped, sneered and was about to turn away when Ullsaard growled. "Sit down!"

  She locked eyes with him, and he stared back, daring her to speak out of turn. She broke from his unflinching glare and sat down with a pout, thudding her fists on the table. Ullsaard took a moment to calm before he spoke.

  "I did not intend for this to happen," he said. "I thought that a campaign in Salphoria would be the best way to guarantee the future of this family. The new lands, th-"

  "Liar," said Luia. "You were not thinking about this family at all. You were thinking about the glory and prestige you would have."

  "Glory and prestige that would be a legacy for my sons," Ullsaard answered coolly, forcing himself to keep his temper in the face of his wife's scorn. "The name Ullsaard kon Salphoria would carry more weight than Ullsaard ad Enair."

  "A title?" Luia laughed. "You think you can battle your way into the nobility?"

  "Why not? Every noble family name in Askhor was once just a normal family name. Wealth, prestige, these things can be grown over generations. History does not forget the names of great men. Perhaps your ambitions for your granddaughter would not be so far-fetched if her grandfather was known as the conqueror of Salphoria. That's a claim that could entice even the Blood into a union."

  Luia opened her mouth to argue and stopped. She bit her lip and tapped her fingers together as she considered this. Then her expression darkened again.

  "That would have been well and good, but all you have managed to achieve is shame, and your name will be remembered with ignominy. What sort of legacy is that?"

  "All is not yet lost," said Ullsaard. He took another sip of the strong wine. "When we have found out what Noran can tell us, I will ask him to take a message to the king. I will offer my deepest apologies and regret for the turn of events, and ask for his forgiveness. In my experience, the Blood find humility hard to resist. I'll swear my oaths of loyalty again, at his feet if necessary, and vow to uphold Kalmud's right to become king."

  "You would distance yourself from Aalun?" asked Allenya. "He has been your ally and patron for a long time. He will not take such a move kindly."

  "Sister, you are right," said Luia, and her eyes were distant, narrowed in calculation. "The king is your enemy for the moment, but he will not live forever. When he is gone, what power will Kalmud have to protect his succession against Aalun? It is more likely that Aalun will become the next king, and you would be better to have him as a friend than an enemy."

  Ullsaard lowered his head into his hands and massaged his temples.

  "I feel like I've opened a box of snakes and I don't know which one to grab," he muttered. "What was I thinking?"

  "It does not matter," said Allenya. She walked around the table and laid an arm across Ullsaard's shoulders. "What has happened cannot be changed. Right or wrong, we are where we are."

  He put an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, planting a kiss on her belly, feeling her soft woollen dress on his lips. Allenya stroked his hair.

  "Nothing can be done until the morning," she said. "Why not get some rest?"

  This seemed like a good idea. Ullsaard took Allenya's hand in his and stood up.

  "I have a few duties around camp," he said. "I'll be back soon."

  At that moment, a captain from the guard company announced his presence outside the tent. Ullsaard told the man to enter.

  "General, Noran the herald is at the camp gates," the soldier announced.

  "So soon? Let him into the camp and send word to Prince Aalun of his arrival."

  "Yes, General," the captain said with a brief salute before hurrying out of the tent.

  "This cannot be good," Ullsaard said, sitting at the table.

  Allenya summoned a servant and instructed him to prepare hot tea.

  "I am sure Noran would like something to drink," she said, sitting opposite Ullsaard.

  "Always the perfect hostess," the general replied. "Perhaps I should have you with me all the time."

  "You are not dragging us around on your campaigns like common camp followers," said Luia. "You may choose to live in ditches, but I will not."

  Meliu gave a sob and buried her hands in her arms.

  "This is so awful," she moaned. She lifted her tear-streaked face. "Where will we go? What about my darling Ullnaar? He'll be all alone! You've made us the mockery of all Askh."

  Ullsaard had no time to reply. The tent door swirled open and Noran strode in. Behind came two women, one about twenty years of age, her belly swelling with child, the other a little older.

  "Neerita!" squealed Meliu, launching from her chair towards the pregnant woman. Ullsaard's youngest wife swamped Noran's with a hug and a shower of kisses.

  "What is g-" began Ullsaard. He was silenced by Noran's fist catching him flush on the chin.

  "You fucking selfish cunt!" the herald raged while Luia laughed behind Ullsaard. "Of all the pig-headed, fucking stupid things you have done, this is the worst! You utter m-"

  Ullsaard's return punch caught Noran square between the eyes, knocking him to his backside.

  "Don't ever raise your hand to me, friend or not," Ullsaard said, rubbing his chin.

  Noran blinked with disbelief, slightly cross-eyed. Ullsaard reached out and helped Noran to his feet.

  "Let us leave you two alone," said Allenya, hustling Meliu, Neerita and Anriit towards the back of the tent where canvas screens had been hung to create separate rooms. Luia lingered a while longer, hoping that Noran would hit her husband again. When it became clear that this would not happen, she huffed disapprovingly and joined her sisters.

  "Perhaps you should start again," suggested Ullsaard. He lifted the wine jug and Noran nodded and sat down at the table. Noran scrunched his nose a few times.

  "Is it broken?" the herald asked.

  "Not even bleeding, you weakling," Ullsaard replied, placing a mug of undiluted wine in front of Noran. "Drink this and tell me what's happening. Why so upset?"

  Noran took a large swig from the mug and fixed Ullsaard with a resigned stare.

  "Because I brought you to Askh on the prince's orders, Lutaar has accused me of being in league with you and Aalun. Members of the Brotherhood came to my apartment, but my servants held them off until we managed to get out through the window. Imagine it!"

  "I'd say you've had plenty of experience of hasty window retreats over the years," chuckled Ullsaard. "This isn't fucking funny." "No, it isn't. Sorry. Carry on." Noran drank some more before continuing.

  "There is not a lot more to say. We slipped out of the palace grounds, managed to pick up a few things from Neerita's old house and then left the city before the gates closed at Howling. Here I am."

  "Did you manage to find anything out before you were chased off?"

  "Yes, but it would be better to tell you and Aalun together. Where is the prince?"

  "Let's go and see him." Ullsaard downed the contents of his cup and Noran did the same.

  As they left the tent, Ullsaard beckoned to one of the legionnaires on guard with a crooked finger.

  "Ask First Captain Jutiil if he'll give up his tent for Herald Noran and his family. He can share with Luamid."

  The legionnaire headed off into the flame-broken night.

  "That's kind of you," said Noran as the pair set off in the opposite direction, towards the centre of camp.

  "It's the most I could do," Ullsaard joked. "I do feel partly responsible for your predicament."

  "Partly?" Noran's voice rose an octave with
incredulity.

  "You're the one who decided to flee from the Brotherhood. You could have stayed and explained what happened."

  "With everything that's been going on these last couple of days, I panicked, all right? No one in the palace is open to reason and explanation at the moment. And that is your fault."

  "More Aalun's than mine. He started all of this."

  "And without you going along with him, he wouldn't have dared be so bold."

  Ullsaard was too tired to argue any more. When they came to the grand pavilion, Aalun was sitting in Ullsaard's campaign chair dictating a letter to a scribe. He looked up, waved the attendant away and signalled for Ullsaard and Noran to approach. Ullsaard bit back a comment about being invited into his own home and took up a stool in front of the prince. Noran did the same and briefly recounted what he had told Ullsaard. Aalun looked at Noran with sympathy.

  "My father's unreasonableness about this whole affair is beyond comprehension," said the prince.

  "You don't understand your father's 'unreasonableness', not yet, Prince," replied Noran. He looked at Ullsaard. "He has instructed the Brotherhood to declare you traitor to the empire. I heard about the trouble you had trying to leave. Now the Brothers are dragging your name through the dirt across the city, from the hill to the goat quarter."

  Ullsaard absorbed this without comment and Noran continued.

  "On top of that, messages were sent to Nemtun more than a week ago. He has gathered two legions from Okhar, will pick up another in Nalanor and is marching here right now."

  "More than a week ago?" said Aalun. "That's before Ullsaard even entered Askhor."

  "Someone must have sent word," said Ullsaard. "I kept from the main routes, but you can't avoid everybody when you're marching with that many men."

  "It's a rare rumour that travels faster than a legion," said Aalun. "And when it arrived, I heard nothing of it."

  "Probably the Brotherhood again," said Noran. "Some reckon they used trained crows to carry messages between the precincts."