The Crown of the Conqueror cob-2

by Gav Thorpe

  "We must eat here if we are to live," Eriekh replied, pieces of meat tumbling from his mouth. "What is unwise about enjoying this necessary bodily function?"

  "It will be hard to forget when we return to the Temple," argued Asirkhyr as he sat on a stool beside the small fire. The hierophant looked up into the clear skies. The air was chill, but he looked to suffer no discomfort. "There is life in this world to sustain us, but you choose to partake of this crude biological process."

  "Lakhyri gave us strict instructions not to drain our new allies," said Eriekh, eyes narrowing with suspicion. "It would be unwise of you to forget that."

  "I have not leeched a single drop of their essence." Asirkhyr reached a hand out to the low flames burning in the small circle of stones in front of the tent. Runes glowed on his fingertips and the fire flickered for a moment, the flames bending towards his outstretched hand. "Simple combustion; a wasteful method for transmission of energy. And that food you eat? It is inefficient. For us, there are better ways to exist."

  "More efficient, yes, but better?" Eriekh smiled and licked a dribble of fat from his fingers. "So you soak the life from a few plants here and there, and maybe the odd reptile or goat? I would say it is a waste of the tongue and belly with which you were born."

  "Such pleasures of the flesh are not our concern," snapped Asirkhyr. "Next you will be singing and dancing, and fornicating with the females. It is not our purpose here."

  "You think that our great leader does not indulge the needs of his fleshly carcass when he is in this world? How do you think he controls them so well, these bags of instinct and desire? By sharing that world and understanding the failings of it! Do not be concerned for me; I am still focussed on our task."

  "And the imbibing of alcohol helps does it?" Asirkhyr looked meaningfully at the earthenware jug next to Eriekh's plate. "Almost a third of that ewer's contents have been consumed. You are drunk."

  "Not at all," said Eriekh. "Though I have consumed enough to intoxicate a normal man, I have left only enough alcohol in my system to attain a mood of relaxation and a small increase in confidence, no more."

  "We do not have the luxury of these fanciful distractions." Asirkhyr turned his gaze to the sea of campfires surrounding them, his eyes ending upon the huge black pavilion a short distance away, inhabited by Erlaan. "Lakhyri's last communication urged us to action. He has succeeded in persuading the usurper to reinstate the Brotherhood."

  "I know this as well as you, as you are aware," said Eriekh. "I do not need reminding of the plan."

  "And so why is it that you sit here gorging like an animal instead of discussing the strategy of the upcoming campaign with our new underling?"

  Eriekh belched and pushed back his plate.

  "The essence of life may sustain us, but it does not wholly sate our natural hunger or thirst. I find that they are more distracting here than in the Temple. Having assuaged these discomfiting sensations I am now able to think more clearly. You should try it; perhaps it would alleviate some of your tetchiness."

  "Tetchiness?" Asirkhyr sneered at his companion. "Do not confuse a rightful sense of urgency with short patience."

  "And do not confuse my attitude with complacency or indolence!" Eriekh turned on his stool to face the other hierophant directly. "The king of the Mekhani is addressing his shamans. When he is finished, he will attend to us here, as I have instructed him. All things considered, I believe this plan to be more satisfactory than Lakhyri's last attempt. The immortalisation of Askhos was an unnecessary complication. This new approach will reap quicker results."

  "I know that you held little regard for our leader's brother, but he achieved a great deal for our cause." Asirkhyr matched the other priest's stare. "When Erlaan is dead, we shall need to find another to replace him. The line of the Blood did away with such considerations."

  "Erlaan can produce a successor if needed," said Eriekh. "He is the continuation of the Blood."

  "Not while the usurper still lives. When Ullsaard is dead, the full inheritance of the Blood will become Erlaan's."

  "You think that Askhos still lingers on in the Crown? No, he is gone, lost to the voids of nothingness. He has paid the price for wanting a worldly life, but in his loss there is opportunity for us."

  "We do not know for sure whether Askhos survives or not. It is not without cause to believe his essence may yet exist in this realm."

  "It is impossible to say." Eriekh stood and went to the tent, emerging a few moments later with a blanket around his shoulders to ward away the growing cold of the night; an action that earned himself another scornful look from Asirkhyr. "That Ullsaard is himself is certain. On that basis, it is hopeful speculation and nothing more that Askhos remains with us. He may yet be tied to the Crown, but it is not Lakhyri's intent to retrieve him. He has served his purpose, but time grows short for our masters and we need a more aggressive policy."

  "You think that a youth can succeed where Askhos failed?"

  "No," said Eriekh. "But he is merely a tool, a figurehead. For too long Askhos was allowed to do things his way. With the return of Orlassai we can operate in the open. This will be the final attempt, and it will succeed. The need for secrecy is no more."

  "You are correct, this is the final attempt. It is a gamble that Lakhyri takes with all of our futures. Should it fail, there will not be time to engineer another opportunity; the eulanui will return and take what is theirs, and we know the consequences of such a catastrophe. Only by strenuous efforts have we held them at bay for so long. I feel their patience with Lakhyri wears thin indeed. Not for much longer will they believe it is best to wait for the world to be offered as a gift."

  Eriekh saw a large figure approaching through the gloom.

  "No more of these matters, Erlaan approaches," he warned.

  The warped king of the Mekhani strode into the dim light of the hierophant's fire. There was an earnest expression on his twisted face.

  "You have received fresh news from Askh?" he asked, sitting on the ground beside the table, his head still level with the priests' such was his size. "The tribes are entranced by my speeches and the shamans are ready; I fear such enthusiasm will wane if that energy is not shortly unleashed."

  "We leave tomorrow," said Asirkhyr. "All is in place. We have received confirmation from the Brotherhood that Ullsaard has positioned his legions and they await an attack on Okhar."

  "We even know the towns they garrison and the roads they march along," said Eriekh, smiling at the thought of the usurper bringing about his own downfall by the reinstatement of the Brotherhood.

  "How?" Erlaan's question caught Eriekh by surprise.

  "How do we know these things?" said the hierophant. He glanced at Asirkhyr, who nodded in agreement. "Every Brotherhood precinct contains the Chamber of Words. In that chamber are a number of wax slates inscribed with runes taught to us by the eulanui. When one Brother makes a mark upon those slates, they appear on corresponding tablets at the Grand Precinct."

  "They are the same slate in different places? Like the city you hid away in and the Temple?"

  Eriekh was again pleased with Erlaan's grasp of the multi-layered nature of reality unveiled by the works of the eulanui.

  "That is correct, and thus communication is instantaneous," said the priest. "Your grandfather's killer has laid out his battle plans and the Brotherhood move to enact them. Without even knowing of our existence, they pass on this information. Every shipment of grain, every sandal and nail that goes to the legions is remarked upon by a Brother somewhere, and so we have a clear picture of Ullsaard's movements and plans."

  "And where is the man himself?" Erlaan's question was innocently asked, but it caused the priests a moment of consternation.

  "He left Geria some time ago, but has not been seen since," admitted Asirkhyr. "Most likely his absence is explained by a return to Salphoria, where as yet there are no Brothers. Believing his hotwards border to be secured, he doubtless has returned to his army to resolve
the cause of his delay in his campaign against the Salphors."

  "So we still do not yet know what has halted his advance?" Again the question was asked with no guile, but Erlaan was proving to be shrewd in strategic matters.

  "The war is beholden to the whim of the usurper," said Eriekh. "To attempt to divine the mind of such a capricious man would be difficult. For all we know, he was struck by a period of nostalgia and simply wished to return to Askh, but not trusting his subordinates in his absence ordered them to pause in their attacks."

  "Or perhaps he simply found the climate not to his liking," Asirkhyr added scornfully. "Who can read the motives of such an ill-disciplined and selfish person?"

  Runes curved upon Erlaan's brow as he frowned. He shifted his bulk and looked earnestly at the two others. He grinned in lopsided fashion, exposing pointed teeth.

  "I have known Ullsaard since I was a child, and marched to war alongside him," Erlaan told them. "Do not underestimate him. That a man of such ill temper and poor education is now ruler of Greater Askhor is evidence of his abilities and his ambition. Some of that we might attribute to the power of the Blood, but at least an equal proportion must be given as credit to the man. He was always competent, more than competent. He can be exceptional, and in overthrowing my grandfather he displayed a grasp of politics equal to his mastery of warfare."

  The king-messiah paused and looked at the small fire, his face growing serious.

  "He outmanoeuvred Lutaar and all of the governors, dissolved the Brotherhood and took the Crown. If I were you I would look to make an ally of him and not keep him as your enemy."

  Eriekh resisted the urge to glance at his fellow priest. Both knew that Lakhyri was doing just such a thing; supporting both Ullsaard and Erlaan, the high priest knew that whichever triumphed would mean victory also for the disciples of the eulanui. If Ullsaard proved himself the more capable ruler and defeated Erlaan, nothing was lost. For all of the effort that had been directed at the Mekhani resurgence, that support could be withdrawn quickly and the threat from hotwards allowed to wither and die if it served the order's interests better to do so.

  "You are the rightful heir," said Asirkhyr, filling the silence left by Eriekh. "It is you who has the right to fulfil Askhos's legacy and no other."

  Taking this assurance with a slight nod, Erlaan stood, stretching up to his full height.

  "We set out for Okhar tomorrow to bring about that day," said the Great King.

  "Not so," said Asirkhyr. He continued as Erlaan's monstrous frown returned. "We will cross the Nakuus into Okhar, as agreed, but then turn duskwards into Ersua. Ullsaard has Okhar well guarded and expects any attack to head for the Greenwater and Geria. We shall not oblige him."

  Erlaan laughed and punched one hand into the other.

  "From Ersua we can strike at Nalanor, Okhar or Anrair. Ullsaard will have to pull back his legions from Salphoria and even then he will be stretched thin protecting every approach to the Askhan Gap. He will have to either pull his forces back to the Wall to guard Askh, giving us free reign over the rest of the empire, or his legions will be spread out and easily overcome. I assume that with your information from the Brotherhood you have a route through Okhar that will keep our intent secret for as long as possible?"

  "We do," said Eriekh. "Any small measure of resistance the Askhans can muster will be swept away by your army. Ullsaard forgets that the weather is much kinder in these parts and does not expect any attack until spring. By the start of summer, the empire will be yours again, and with the combined might of Mekha and Askhor, Salphoria will fall by next winter."

  "I wish I could see Ullsaard's face when he realises he's lost the empire even more quickly than he won it." Erlaan's cracked lips curved in a bestial grin. "His reign will be so brief, it will make the rule of a Salphorian king look like an ageless dynasty!"

  Okhar

  Late Winter, 212th year of Askh

  I

  Seeing his army marching across several rough wooden bridges thrown across the Nakuus, Erlaan wondered if Askhos had enjoyed the same feeling of power when he had loosed the First Legion against the tribes of Askhor. This was the start of something new, a fresh force of nature arising to claim the world.

  The king-messiah strode at the head of the Mekhani host, tens of thousands of warriors following him onto Askhan-claimed soil. Behemodons waded effortlessly through the sluggish river, urged on by the goads of their mahouts. The wood of the bridges shook with the tramp of so many feet.

  The last time he had passed this way, Erlaan had been wrapped up in concerns for his father and himself. Though he had come of age, he realised now that he had still been a boy in mind. When Ullsaard had defeated Cosuas's army and Lakhyri — masquerading as high brother — had ushered Erlaan and his father to safety, he had been afraid and uncertain. He had doubted whether he would ever see Askh again.

  Certainly he had not foreseen the manner of his return at that bleak time. Now the fear and doubts were gone. He had lain to rest the worries of his father and taken up the mantle of a true king. As his body had been strengthened, so had his ambition and resolve. He could scarcely believe that he had once thought himself unfit to become a ruler. Perhaps that was the price of a position inherited, not earned. Not so on this day. It was not by right of the Blood or accident of birth that he would become lord of the world, but by his own hand and his own will.

  His thoughts strayed from Askh to Ullsaard. He admitted that he was thankful to the usurper; for his strong words, his guidance and for forcing Erlaan to fight for what he believed to be his. The priests thought Ullsaard was blunt, if not outright stupid, but Erlaan was going to assume nothing. After so much effort to take it, the Askhan king would not relinquish his grip on the Crown without a hard fight.

  The horde of Mekhani warriors were chivvied into a more organised column of march as they struck out into Okhar, heading almost directly coldwards in accordance with Eriekh's information. Midday had passed and the army was still divided by the Nakuus when Erlaan's rune-gifted sight spotted his scouts returning from dawnwards. Skittering through the grass on the backs of their lacertils, the outriders were returning with speed and purpose.

  The only reason for such haste would be a sighting of Askhan forces. It was inevitable that an army of the size Erlaan commanded could not progress unseen, but it was a blow that their first encounter with the enemy was so soon. As the lizard-riders approached, Erlaan passed the word for the army to halt and wait for those on the other side of the river to catch up.

  "If we are discovered, we cannot allow the Askhans to escape to take word to their king," Erlaan told the cabal of the oldest shamans that served as his general staff. "We must obliterate them entirely."

  "As you say, mighty Orlassai," one of them replied, Erlaan could not remember his name; the shamans all appeared as shrivelled, near-dead husks to the king-messiah's eyes, their font of life energy almost spent. "We shall slay them all."

  Several of the shamans left to help with the mustering of the army from the march, leaving Erlaan with two hunched, aging companions. He ignored them, wondering where Eriekh and Asirkhyr would be found. They were probably still with the rear of the column, ensuring that there was no dawdling.

  Riding up to their ruler, the handful of scouts leapt from the backs of their lizard mounts and prostrated themselves in the patchy grass. Their obeisance gave the king-messiah mixed thoughts; such unthinking dedication was gratifying, but having been raised in the court of Askh where there was little formality Erlaan could not help but feel a small amount of embarrassment at their abasement. He signalled for them to rise.

  "You have sighted Askhans?" said the king.

  "Yes, divine Orlassai," said the chief of the scouts, a haggardfaced elder called Inomasai. He turned and pointed back to where he had come from. "Soldiers riding on giant snakes, in the hills towards the dawn."

  Erlaan said nothing about the vagueness of this report, consoling himself that when the new empir
e was established the Mekhani would learn of such things as hours and miles. He looked to where the scout pointed and saw that the ground rose up to a steep, scrub-filled slope about four miles away. If the scouts were there, the Askhan force for which they were the eyes would be another five to ten miles behind.

  "Did they see you?" he demanded.

  Inomasai shrugged and looked at his underlings, who cautiously shook their heads.

  "They gave no cry of warning, so it is not likely, mighty Orlassai," said Inomasai. "I stayed for a while hidden in the grass and they did not change direction."

  "And which direction was that?"

  The scout hesitated before replying. The Mekhani used landmarks and well-known trails to describe places in the desert; without such references, Inomasai was finding it difficult to explain what he had seen.

  "They move along the hills, from the cold to the hot," said the chief of scouts, waving his hand in the direction of the scouts travel. "They head towards the river."

  Absorbing this information without comment, Erlaan turned his gaze back to the Nakuus, several miles behind. At a rough guess, there were still more than a tenth of his army to cross the river. He had to make a decision.

  "Send word to the rear to cross as soon as possible," he told the remaining shamans. "The rest of the army will march to dawnwards. If the enemy scouts spot us they must not be allowed to give the Askhans too much warning. We will fall upon them like a scouring wind and sweep onto whatever force it is they protect."

  "As you command, mighty Orlassai," the shamans said in unison, bowing low before scampering away.

  While the orders rippled through the army, Erlaan loosened his sword in its sheath. The thought of battle excited him. This magnificent body he had been given by the sect of the Temple had not been truly tested yet. He wanted to know just what sort of ruin he was capable of unleashing.

  It took a while for the Mekhani to settle on their new course, and there were a few disagreements as shaman-chiefs argued over who took which position in the line. While he waited, Erlaan sent Inomasai to round up the scouts and press into the hills ahead of the main attack. From all around, the lizard riders converged, more than four thousand of them advancing as a screen.