by Gav Thorpe
"One other thing, king," said Muuril. "It's a good seven days between here and Marradan, eight more likely. How are we going to communicate with you?"
"I'll be in Menesun, so it will be closer to ten days," said Ullsaard. "I'll set up shifts of runners, from Marradan to Menesun, they'll be able to carry messages between us. I'll pick five men, and I'll give you a list of the names before you leave. Also, before you head out, you'll have to agree where you'll meet the runners in Marradan. I'll leave it up to you to sort out, I don't need to know the details."
"And when do you want us to get going?" Gelthius asked, thinking about the pig roasting in the kitchens and the other festivities being planned. It looked like he would be leaving again before he had time for a proper meal and a drink. He glanced towards the inn and Ullsaard must have read his gaze.
"Tomorrow morning," said the king with a grin. He slapped a hand to Gelthius' shoulder. "Pork and crackling for you tonight, and be sure to get some cold cuts to enjoy on the way to Marradan."
"Thank you, King," said Gelthius. He stood up and nodded.
"We'll not let you down," said Muuril, as the others got to their feet.
"I know you won't," said King Ullsaard. He turned his gaze to the tents that had been erected on the hillside just outside the village. "Best get back to camp, you have preparations to make."
They waited until they were out of earshot, heading up the road towards the campsite, and then all five men started talking at once. It was Muuril, largest and loudest of them all, that prevailed.
"Did you get that, lads?" he said. "King's chosen men, we are now. And pensioned too, if you slackers want that. I tell you, forget tonight, it's going to be pork and crackling all the way for us."
"Unless Asuhas finds out we're spying on him and has us killed," said Gebriun
"Ah, don't spoil it you miserable cunt," said Muuril.
"Eight days until we get to Marradan," said Loordin. "That's enough free time for me. After that, it's not worth worrying about. "
"I think I'm going to enjoy retirement," Faalin said with a wink. "I hear that Ersuan women are very hospitable."
"Welcoming enough, if you don't mind shagging something with more stubble than you," laughed Loordin.
"You're quiet, captain," said Muuril, noticing Gelthius' solemn mood. The third captain had become something of a talisman for the group, his journey from debtor to officer seen as a sign of good luck by the other men. The others quietened, ready to absorb the sage words of their officer-mascot.
"You're all forgetting why we're off to Marradan," said Gelthius. "Urikh is claiming to be king and Ullsaard has been declared dead. Unless Ullsaard handles this situation quick, it'll mean war again. "
"It won't come to that," said Loordin, though there were doubtful looks from the others. "It can't come to that. Folks have only just got used to having Ullsaard as king, they won't take kindly to Urikh. And most of the legions are in Salphoria, there's nobody here to fight a war."
"If war breaks out, we might find ourselves on the wrong side in the Twenty-first when we should be in the Thirteenth," said Gebriun. "I don't reckon our new commander's going to be as trusting as King Ullsaard."
"If Asuhas is for Urikh and not Ullsaard," said Muuril.
"We'll know soon enough," said Gelthius. "Let's just make sure we get everything in order before we set out."
"Yes, captain." The dutiful response was given by the legionnaires without any mockery or irony, and Gelthius realised that the others would be looking to him to continue being leader once they reached Marradan.
He walked in silence as they started to chatter again. It was one thing to be a third captain in a legion, basically chasing the legionnaires to make sure the second captain's orders and rota were put into practice. Now they would be looking for real leadership, and Gelthius had no experience of that.
I'm in charge, he thought. Spirits help us.
MARRADAN, ERSUA
Late autumn, 213th year of Askh
I
Marradan was home to a strange atmosphere, and it pervaded the legion that was stationed there; or perhaps it was something about the Twenty-first that had an effect on the city. It was hard for Gelthius to put his finger on, because the city itself was a dismal place. Grey clouds unleashed a constant drizzle on grey, cobbled streets that wound between grey, stone buildings with grey, slate rooftops. The people wore drab clothes of grey and brown and beige, perhaps so as not to stand out in their grey world. The only colour Gelthius had seen since arriving was the green that was paired with a light grey on the flags flying from the walls and the shields of the growing Twenty-first Legion; grey and green being the colours of Ersua.
Gelthius and his companions had been welcomed into the ranks as soon as they had presented themselves and their papers to First Captain Lutaan. The legion commander was young for his position, animated and enthusiastic to welcome the men of the Thirteenth under his command. Gelthius had seen him before, though only from a distance. Lutaan was nephew to Donar, first captain of the Fifth who had campaigned alongside Ullsaard in his bid for the throne and had fought frequently next to the Thirteenth during the invasion of Salphoria. It had been the Fifth, along with the Seventh, that had been caught in a Salphorian ambush with the Thirteenth during the march to Carantathi, and who had been with the king when he reached the Salphors' capital.
From personal experience and reputation, Gelthius knew that Donar was a sound, sensible commander and though Lutaan lacked age and experience, the men of the Fifth had spoken well of him during his time as a second captain. To Gelthius that boded well, and he hoped that Lutaan would be loyal to the king rather than the governor. Lutaan was certainly facing a challenge, having to create a legion from nothing in the face of local apathy.
Gelthius and Muuril had been kept together, to form the core of a new company being added to the legion; Gebriun, Loordin and Faasil had been made sergeants in other companies. The first impressions of the Ersuans who made up the bulk of the legion – nearly all of them from Marradan and the surrounding towns – was of a surly, tight-lipped bunch. They were not outright hostile to the newcomers, but there was no obvious comradeship or extension of friendship from the locals either.
In the first couple of days after arriving in Marradan, Gelthius picked up on one reason for the cloud that hung over the newly re-formed legion. If legions were destroyed or disbanded their number became available for the next body of men to be founded. The last Twenty-first legion had been renamed the First Magilnadan by the traitorous governor Anglhan. The stigma of the Magilnadans' treachery – including the murder of Prince Jutaar who had led the First Magilnadan – would remain with the legion even though there was no connection between the men who made up the Twenty-first now and those who had sided with the Salphors. At least for living memory, the Twenty-first would be known as oathbreakers and mutineers, though it was no fault of theirs.
Worse still, in a way, and a further reminder of this ignominious past, was the fact that the legion had a newly forged icon of Askhos. No legion had ever lost its battle standard in over two hundred years of the empire, but the icon of the First Magilnadan had disappeared when the legion turned rogue. Gelthius had placed his hand on the new icon, which was kept in the first captain's headquarters at the barracks, and had noticed the cleanliness and shine of the gilding, and the pristine condition of the sculpted face of Askhos. The icon of the Thirteenth had been kept clean and polished but countless battles had left a history of dents, scratches and chips that were worn by Askhos like proud battle scars.
With no company of their own as yet, Gelthius and Muuril were attached to the palace guards on a semi-permanent basis. While this gave them easy access to Asuhas's dwelling, it meant they could only see the others in their little band every four days, as the watch rotations brought around the companies of the rest to the palace.
Their day-to-day routine was much as would be expected by a garrison, split between patrolling the pa
lace and its grounds and drilling at the barracks. Four days after arriving, Gelthius met Ullsaard's first runner, Haaldir, in a small winehouse far from the drinking holes of the legionnaires. There was not much of remark to tell the king's messenger, and so Haaldir departed with only the news that the king's spies had been accepted into the Twenty-first and that Gelthius and Muuril were within the palace walls keeping an eye and an ear ready for any news of Urikh.
While many provincial palace buildings were situated outside their capitals, the palace of Asuhas was an imposing, five-storey building that formed one side of Marradan's central square. The square was large enough for ten thousand legionnaires to drill in rank and file, and opposite the palace rose the three-tiered ziggurat of the Brotherhood precinct. The houses of the Ersuan nobility and richest traders completed the square, which was reached by three roads; one through the palace itself, which was built as an arch over the thoroughfare, two others from either side of the Brotherhood precinct.
The interior was divided between the main audience hall and adjoining chambers, and two wings that accommodated the governor and various other important noble families of Ersua. The patrols of the garrison legion covered all of the areas that were used by the public and staff, and most of the private chambers, but it was odd to Gelthius that the Twentyfirst were not responsible for the governor's chambers. These were protected by legionnaires with black shields and helmet crests denoting that they were attached directly to the Brotherhood. Usually these soldiers oversaw punishment work groups, protected the precincts and manned the few prisons where convict-labourers were housed overnight.
The blackcrests, as they were referred to outside of the Brotherhood, were part of no formal legion, answering instead to the senior brother of the precinct to which they were attached. For practical purposes, they were usually stationed in their own enclaves within the camps and barracks of the provincial garrison legions, sharing armouries, kitchens and other facilities. Gelthius had spent no time at all with the blackcrests in his time with the Thirteenth, but he could tell from the reactions of Muuril and the others that they were considered a bit strange for swearing loyalty to the Brotherhood and king rather than legion and king.
"I know the Twenty-first ain't no veteran legion, but I never heard of no governor being protected by Brotherhood troops," remarked Muuril, when he and Gelthius met at the end of their guard shift at the palace. The two of them walked back to the main barracks together, while most of the other legionnaires on their shift visited family or drinking holes. The walk took less than half an hour, but it gave them some chance to speak to each other in privacy.
"Wasn't always like that, neither," Gelthius answered. "I heard from Captain Anadlin that the blackcrests were only brought in as guards in the summer. It put Captain Lutaan's nose right out of joint, it did. Like he was being told his legion wasn't up to the job. Reason given was something about how close Marradan is to the Salphor border. Something about the Twenty-first might be needed for the campaign and so they had to be free to leave without abandoning the palace."
"Fucking blackheads," snorted Muuril. "And ain't that about the same time that Urikh decides to have a go at being king?"
"If the Brotherhood have been convinced that King Ullsaard is dead, they might want to ensure the governors remember who is in charge," said Gelthius. "Nothing like a few dozen blackcrests standing around your bedroom door to remind you where your loyalties lie."
"And that's why I can't see Asuhas agreeing to it, not freely," said Muuril. The two of them fell silent as they passed a group of legionnaires sitting on the benches outside a brothel, wine cups and ale tankards on the tables between them. Half-naked girls sat on their laps whispering compliments and offers, while two men with heavy cudgels stood to one side, watching the proceedings with bored expressions. Gelthius shared nods with a few of the customers he recognised.
"You know what we need to do?" said Muuril. "About them blackheads, I mean."
Gelthius was afraid that he did know, but he shook his head and made Muuril spell it out all the same. If Muuril said it out loud, it was the sergeant's fault.
"We've got to get into the governor's chambers," said Muuril and Gelthius silently cursed, his assumption confirmed. The sergeant did not notice and continued. "They've got to be hiding something in there. We have to have a look at what it is."
"Why?" said Gelthius, knowing the answer but feeling like he needed to raise the argument anyway. "Why can't we just tell the king that there's a bunch of blackcrests guarding Asuhas, and we can let Ullsaard decide what to do. If we go poking around and get caught, it's gonna raise suspicions, right enough. And then what if someone makes the connection between us and the king, what with us being from the Thirteenth and everything?"
Muuril considered the third captain's protest for some time, until the walls of the barracks were in view at the bottom of the street.
"Because the king trusts us to do what is right by him," the sergeant answered, patting Gelthius on the arm, "and you and I both know that finding out why a bunch of the Brotherhood's muscle is guarding the governor's chambers is what we need to do."
"Yeah, I know," Gelthius conceded, "but it ain't gonna be easy."
"Sure it is," said Muuril, his stubbled face split by a grin. "I've already figured out how we do it too. All we need is some time to talk to Loordin."
"Why Loordin?"
"Because he's a mouthy gobshite, that's why." Muuril's grin stretched wider as Gelthius shook his head and gave the sergeant a doubtful look. "Trust me, captain, it's a great plan."
II
"This is a shit plan," snapped Loordin.
"Shut up and keep walking," said Muuril, waving his spear, "or I'll jab you with this for certain."
It was just after the Noonwatch change of guard and Gelthius and Muuril were advancing down the main corridor to Asuhas's chambers with Loordin between them. Loordin was off-duty and dressed in the tunic and hose of a servant, a crudely tied scarf around his arm to hide his legion tattoo. To complete the disguise, Loordin had a silver tray purloined from First Captain Lutaan's quarters earlier that morning, on which had been artfully arranged several apples and other fruit.
Ahead of them two Brotherhood legionnaires barred the passageway, standing to attention, their spears held behind their shields. The corridor was in the heart of the palace wing, with no windows, and so it was impossible to see the faces of the soldiers in the lamplight – they were in shadow from the lanterns hanging from the ceiling behind them.
The two Thirteenth legionnaires and mock servant were stopped by the lowered spearpoints of the blackcrests, about half a dozen paces from the two soldiers.
"What's this?" asked the blackcrest standing on the right.
"Food," replied Loordin, in the sarcastic tone he had perfected over many years of making his fellow legionnaires pay for every slip of the tongue and stupid question asked. Loordin also had a peculiar slouch of the shoulders that cried out insolence without a word being said. Gelthius had been on the receiving end of the slouch several times when he had assigned Loordin to Gravewatch sentry duty or some other onerous task.
"Who for?" said the other blackcrest, stepping forward.
"It's fruit. It's for the fucking monkey, who do you think?" said Loordin.
Gelthius could feel Loordin trembling, and could also sense Muuril trying hard to stifle a laugh. Gelthius was filled with dread by the entire scheme, but Muuril's slightly reddening face and clamped tight jaw was infectious and the third captain could feel the laugh building up in his gut.
The suppressed amusement of the two legionnaires no doubt added to the shortness of temper of the two blackcrests, who were not happy with Loordin's explanation.
"Monkey? What monkey?" the one on the left demanded.
"I don't know, I just arrived," said Loordin, adding a petulant sigh to further antagonise the blackcrests.
"There ain't no monkey here," said the right-hand blackcrest.
&n
bsp; "Really?" Loordin was really shaking now, though Gelthius could not tell whether it was from nerves or excitement. The legionnaire straightened and looked the closest blackcrest in the eye. "You see, I was told the governor's quarters was full of fucking monkeys."
Gelthius bit his lip fiercely to quash an outburst as what Loordin had said sunk in to the minds of the blackcrests.
"You little bastard!" The closest blackcrest pulled back his spear, ready to use it as a club.
Loordin tossed the platter and fruit into the face of the blackcrest and bolted as the second lunged at him. The legionnaire's tittering laughter acted as further bait, and the two blackcrests could not resist. With a clatter of dropped shields, they set off in pursuit of their tormentor with shouted threats.
"Fuck me, it actually worked," said Muuril, glancing at Gelthius and then behind at the three men running down the long passageway. "Come on, they won't chase that little runt forever."
