The Crown of the Usurper

by Gav Thorpe

  It had been a wise decision by his mother to host a proper midwinter's feast. The whispers and looks Urikh had received from the members of his family had grown more obvious with the passage of time, and the chance to bring everybody together and create the impression that all was well had been soundly argued by Luia.

  A company of servants attended the table with silver platters and gilded carafes, though there was little in the way of actual consumption or celebration. Urikh did his best to set a good example, filling his plate with roasted fowl and broiled venison, winter cabbages and succulently prepared stuffed fruits; he had never had much of an appetite and picked at the small mountain of food that sat in the trencher in front of him.

  "The goat's cheese is perfectly ripe," he declared, prodding a knife towards the head-sized ball of dairy produce. A wedge shape had been cut into the side of the cheese by the king, most of which was now sitting on a small plate by his right elbow. It sat there with a bunch of grapes from Maasra, gently going softer in the heat of all the lanterns. Urikh was sweating almost as much as the cheese, dressed as he was in four layers of robes and a cloak, his sash of office over the top; he was still governor of Okhar as well as king.

  "Salphorian mead?" Luia ventured, gesturing for a servant to approach, a jug the size of a baby cradled in his hands.

  "Yes, why not?" said Urikh, beckoning to the serving boy with a gilded goblet. "It is all part of the empire now, we should not be prejudiced. It will be all the fashion amongst the nobles next summer, I am sure."

  There was a choked sob from Allenya at the mention of Salphoria and Urikh suppressed a sigh. The powdered drugs that Lakhyri had recommended be placed into the queen's food were certainly keeping her docile, but at the expense of a terrible depression and bursts of near-catatonia. The smallest mention of anything that reminded Allenya of Urikh's father would bring tears to her eyes at the very least. Urikh considered whether he needed to instruct the Brothers overseeing his aunt's meals to lessen the dosage; the queen's emotional frailty was becoming embarrassing and would cause suspicion if it continued for much longer.

  "Performers, leave us!" announced the king. The less people there were to see the queen distraught, the better it would be. He could rely on a certain level of discretion, if not absolute silence, on the part of the servants; singers and actors from the streets would have no compunctions about spreading royal gossip.

  Legionnaires moved forwards to usher the dawdlers out of the hall.

  "Will you visit Carantathi yourself?" asked Ullnaar. Urikh's brother had undergone something of a growth spurt in the last year, probably the last he would have, and was now the tallest man at the table. His hair was curled like his mother's but was losing some of its lightness; as a student of law he spent more time in dusty libraries and old cellars than in the sun and his pallid skin looked slightly unhealthy. His blond hair was cut to shoulder length, a floppy fringe covering his face, which every now and then he brushed back with a toss of the head and sweeping hand.

  "In the spring, I will," said Urikh. "I am eternally grateful that father was able to complete the conquest of the new territories before his unfortunate death. I believe there is not another man in the empire that could accomplish what he did."

  "I think you underestimate your own abilities," said Luia. "You handled the Greenwater pirates magnificently, and the men of the Seventeenth look up to you as much as the Thirteenth adored your father."

  Urikh knew such praise was unwarranted – his victory on the Greenwater had been exaggerated in the telling, and the loyalty of the Seventeenth was secured more by coin than reputation. However, Urikh appreciated the loyalty and dedication his mother was displaying. Catching the look of Allenya, he chose his next words carefully.

  "There is not a man that can replace my father, as a king or a general. He was gifted beyond many who came before him, and the blood of Askhos ran thick in his veins. I shall try to emulate his achievements, but I do not think I will match them."

  There was a grateful smile from Allenya, and Urikh was genuinely touched by it. He held no malice for the rest of the family, and in truth it had not been malice but ambition that had made Urikh turn on Ullsaard. Lakhyri's promises had simply been too rich for Urikh to turn down.

  "There are grumblings that you will supplant the Book of Askhos with the Covenant of the Brotherhood as the central text of the law," said Ullnaar. "It is argued that what you have done will undermine the power of the legions and the governors, and further increase the standing of the Brotherhood."

  "The grumblers are correct" said Urikh. Ullnaar was too astute to fall for a dishonest answer, so Urikh chose absolute honesty instead. "Ullsaard showed that the legions and governors had become too powerful and I have rectified that oversight. The Brotherhood are the bedrock of Greater Askhor, and with Salphoria brought into the empire they will need every resource to impose the imperial way of life on the barbarians. The empire has gone through turbulent times and she needs a steady hand now, not more warmongering."

  "But is it the hand of the king that will guide the empire, or the hand of the High Brother?" Ullnaar continued. Urikh would not rise to the bait being laid before him.

  "Both, as it has been since Askhos first wore this Crown," said the king. "Greater Askhor has never been ruled by the whim of a single man, and that is its strength. Each province must be as the empire, but on a smaller scale. The governors have been too free to do as they wish; I know this from my own experience. Had our father not fallen victim to the murderous intent of the Salphors, I could have amassed my own wealth and soldiers and made a challenge against him."

  The fact that it had taken no military effort and very little expense to oust his father was not lost on Urikh. The Brotherhood held the key to the empire, something Ullsaard had never really appreciated even after he had become king and reinstated the institution.

  "You risk dividing the empire, sundering the Crown from the provinces," said Ullnaar. He pointed accusingly at Urikh with his knife, which still had a piece of chicken on the end. "Say what you like, you need the provincial legions and that means you have to keep on good terms with the governors."

  "The Salphors fell to our father because they could not unite. Every Askhan knows that is why we will always be stronger than our enemies. When you and the other lawyers have finished tearing apart my proclamation and putting it back together again the governors will see that it is for the benefit of all that we centralise the power that was discarded by Ullsaard. At the moment we waste so much potential, stealing from one province to pay another. It cannot be right that the people of Nalanor or Okhar labour so hard only for their taxes to be spent shipping the cereals they have grown to Anrair and Enair. Every province must be able to sustain itself."

  "And you would have our grandmother starve for want of bread because Enair has poor farms and a cold climate?" Ullnaar dropped his knife onto his plate in disgust. Urikh noted something of a melodrama about his brother's performance and wondered whether Ullnaar's display was merely practice for court rhetoric and posturing. Urikh smiled thinly. Meliu did not quite understand the argument, and turned a ferocious frown towards her nephew.

  "You will do nothing to harm your grandmother," Meliu insisted, wagging her finger. "Or anybody's grandmother, for that matter."

  "Even if she were not of the royal family now, and even if she had not been kept well these years by our father's money, Pretaa would not starve. Like anybody, she is free to choose where she lives. If Enair cannot provide for her, she can live in Ersua or Nalanor, or wherever she likes. That is a liberty everybody enjoys, and with Salphoria now open to our people, I see nothing but a better balance of people in the provinces. As it can provide, so each province shall find its own level."

  "Your father would not have agreed with such a sentiment."

  Urikh had been smiling to reassure his aunt that all would be well, but the smile faded at the sound of the voice that echoed down the hall. The king looked towards t
he doors and saw Noran standing there, two men of the Seventeenth to either side of him.

  II

  As Meliu let out of a laugh of delight, Noran fought down a wince. The queen was already on her feet and running around the table, but the herald really did not desire an emotional reunion. Ignoring his one-time lover as she ran down the hall, her white and blue dress flowing behind her, Noran looked at Urikh. He wore the Crown and robes of office, but there was something hunched about his posture, something in him that could be seen from this distance that set him apart from the other kings Noran had known. The current ruler of the empire did not sit easily with its burdens upon his shoulders.

  "My father is dead, and his wishes now irrelevant," said Urikh, standing up.

  Before Noran could reply, Meliu had reached him. He turned just in time to open his arms and catch her in an embrace. Her hair smelt of winter flowers and her skin was cold as she pressed her cheek against his, but the sensation of her soft body against his dispelled the unease he felt at being brought to Askh, though only for a moment. She kissed him on the neck, once, and then stepped back, her words reminding Noran of why he was at the capital.

  "It is so good of you to come," said Meliu. She glanced at Noran and then her gaze fell to the floor and she shuddered a little. "I suppose you came because you heard… Because of what has happened."

  Noran did not say anything in answer, not immediately. The eyes of Urikh were fixed upon the herald, and Noran noticed that the king still held his knife in his hand, somewhat symbolical of his mood. He had to be careful with his words in the presence of Urikh, and making life difficult for the new king by making accusations of abduction would not endear the herald to his dead friend's son.

  "It is right that I offer condolences to the family of the king, and share with them the sadness they must feel at the passing of his father," Noran said, the words coming a little stiffly. The years spent with Ullsaard had softened his grip on courtly language and it felt stilted and unnatural now, when once half-truths, flattery and obfuscation had been second-nature.

  "You are almost as family to us, Noran," said Allenya. The queen stood and beckoned him to approach the feasting table. Meliu slipped her arm under Noran's and the two of them walked up the hall.

  "My sister takes the loss very hard," whispered Meliu, leaning close and pretending to kiss Noran's ear. "Please be careful with your words."

  Murmuring that he would be, Noran looked at Allenya. She bore the signs of a woman in much distress, worse even than she had been when he had rescued her from Magilnada. Only once before had he seen her so pale, her eyes so hollow and dark; in the days after that rescue when she had learnt of the death of her son, Jutaar. After learning of that news she had shunned all company for three days; even Ullsaard had been banned from her presence. When her self-imposed incarceration had ended, she had spoken kindly to Noran, after hearing of his intent to leave Ullsaard and return to Geria.

  Noran had said nothing to her of the reason for the parting, and she had been too deep in her own grief to ask much of it. The truth was that Noran would never be able to explain to anyone that Ullsaard had bartered half of his remaining life with the sorcerous Lakhyri in exchange for the extension of Noran's existence. In Geria, Noran had almost forgotten the debt he owed to Ullsaard for that; a debt he had not been comfortable to bear. Now that Ullsaard was slain, Noran was not sure how to feel. Part of him was pleased that Ullsaard would never miss those years of life he gave away. The other part of Noran was angered that he would never be given the chance to repay that debt.

  "Come, sit by me," said Allenya, gesturing for a servant to bring a chair. Another attendant moved Meliu's seat to make space, while Ullnaar looked on with an amused expression.

  "I must decline the invitation, as kindly made as it is," said Noran. He met the gaze of Urikh, who was seated once more, looking pleased that Noran had caused no scene. The smugness faded as the herald continued. "I would have words with the new king, in private. I would know details of the manner of his predecessor's demise, and have questions regarding the manner of my journey here."

  "I would be happy to see my herald," said Urikh. "In the morning, perhaps?"

  "I think you should talk to him now, brother," said Ullnaar, happy to make trouble for his older sibling. "In fact, the two of you should feel free to converse plainly before all of us. Is that not right, Luia?"

  The king's mother had been sitting demurely to the left of her son throughout Noran's arrival, neither smiling nor disapproving. Only now did she look at the herald directly, eyes slightly narrowed. Noran wondered how much influence she had over Urikh, and whether it had been her suggestion to have the herald brought to the palace by force.

  "It is too much for me to listen to that dreadful story again," said the queen. She wiped her mouth with the edge of the table cloth and stood up. Looking down the table, she extended a hand to Meliu and then to Allenya. "Come, sisters, we should leave our menfolk to talk of this grim matter without our tears to distract them."

  "You will leave us as well," said Urikh, looking at his brother.

  "I think I will stay," replied Ullnaar. "One or both of you may wish to have legal counsel."

  "I am your king, and I am commanding you to leave us." Urikh's voice was rising in volume as his temper shortened. He glared at the guards and servants around the hall. "All of you, get out. I will speak with my herald alone."

  "Let your brother stay if he wants to, Urikh," said Meliu, stopping to glance back at Noran and the king. The way she spoke put Noran in mind of an aunt asking her nephew to look after an infant cousin while the adults had business to discuss, and he could see that her maternal tone infuriated Urikh, despite the king's attempts to conceal his irritation. "He is heir now, after all. He needs to learn how these things work."

  Unseen by his mother and aunts, Ullnaar grinned, and Noran could imagine the annoyance of Urikh at being treated like a child, forced by his mother's sister to look after his younger sibling. The king's jaw clenched as he bit back whatever venomous reply had sprung to mind.

  "I am king, not a child," said Urikh, his tone measured once more. "I will be left alone to speak privately with Noran, and that will be an end to the matter. There will be many other opportunities for Ullnaar to observe the functions of court first hand."

  "And what if I refuse to leave, brother?" Ullnaar was testing the king, baiting him for a response, but Urikh was wise to the ploy; years of bickering had taught both siblings the best way to deal with each other.

  "I will have you locked up by the Brotherhood," replied Urikh, and Noran could see in the king's eye the determination to see through such a threat. The herald darted a warning look at Ullnaar, but the young lawyer-to-be had his attention fixed on the king.

  "The empire will not suffer rule by a tyrant, brother," Ullnaar said, his expression losing its humour. "You cannot threaten everybody, remember that."

  Ullnaar turned away but Noran paid attention to Urikh, seeing the king's fingers fidget with his sash for a moment. The moment passed and the king's expression hardened. He looked as if he believed that threatening a whole empire was quite possible.

  The two men stood saying nothing while the hall was emptied of family and staff. When everybody else had left, Urikh gestured towards the food-laden table.

  "I understand that your journey may not have been entirely comfortable," aid the king. "If you are hungry, please help yourself."

  Noran was hungry and glanced at the food, but he would not be distracted and waved away the king's offer.

  "You have me arrested and dragged here, and now you think you can offer hospitality?" snapped the herald. "Why? What purpose could it serve to bring me to the palaces, other than to open old wounds? You are a cold man sometimes, Urikh, but I never thought of you as actually cruel."

  Urikh listened to Noran without reaction, his face immobile. When the herald had finished, the king nodded, as if in acknowledgement of Noran's complaints.
<
br />   "It is not cruelty that brings you here, but necessity," said Urikh. "I cannot leave the palace at the moment, and it is imperative that I speak with you."

  "A letter of invitation is more traditional than an armed guard," said Noran. He regretted his words a moment later when the king stalked towards him, jabbing a finger at the herald.

  "You would not have come if I had invited you," said Urikh, striding up to Noran. "Whatever happened between you and my father has not been settled, that much was clear. I do not know what you have been doing in Geria, but you have not been paying attention to the talk in the streets. If you had done, you would have known of Ullsaard's death long before I sent word for the news to be brought to you. I thought that your friendship with my family, the patronage shown to you by my father, would have been bond enough to bring you to the capital earlier, but time is running out and so I resorted to more brutal methods. That was not my fault, it was yours."

  "I do not understand your intent," Noran confessed, shaking his head. "I am a poor ally, if that is what you are after. My father still possesses most of the wealth and influence of my family. It is his support you should seek."