by Gav Thorpe
"You look pensive, my love."
Ullsaard turned at the sound of Allenya's voice. She entered the bedroom, the fragrance of her bath oils drifting across to meet Ullsaard. She wore an open-fronted blue dress, bangles and anklets of silver flashing in the light of the lamp. Her hair was unruly, still damp, and hung in dark curls about her shoulders.
"You are beautiful," said Ullsaard as she sat on the edge of the bed.
"And you are… different," laughed Allenya. Ullsaard stroked fingers across his shaven chin and smiled.
"A temporary change," said the king, sitting on the bed next to his wife. "I think it makes me look younger."
Allenya regarded him with her head tilted to one side, a smile playing on her lips. The smiled faded and she looked away.
"What is it?" asked Ullsaard. Allenya had been distant on their journey from Askh, but the king had thought it only the turmoil of their flight that had weighed on her thoughts. She had seemed distracted rather than angry or upset.
"I see more of Jutaar in you, without the beard," she said, looking at the floor.
"I am sorry," said Ullsaard. "I know that we did not have time to grieve together when he was killed."
"I always knew that time for both of us would be precious when I married you," said Allenya. Her voice was quiet, and her hands trembled in her lap. "But I thought that we would be together when it was important. You managed to come back to Askh for the birth of your son. What was so important that you missed his death?"
"I had a war to wage," said Ullsaard, reaching out to touch Allenya on the arm. She drew away from his fingers. Even as he said the words he knew they sounded empty. How could he explain the drive that was inside him; the frustration that he had felt at the setbacks inflicted upon him by Anglhan? "I avenged our son. Magilnada was razed."
"I avenged him!" Allenya stood up and glared at Ullsaard. The king shrank back from her vehemence. "You destroyed a city but the man who was responsible still escaped. You thought only of Salphoria and your conquest. I needed you, Ullsaard. I needed you so much and you were not there."
Words failed the king as he tried to think of some way to make amends, but all he could muster were excuses for his actions that were better left unsaid. He stood up and tried to embrace Allenya but she stepped away, tears falling to the tiles.
"It has been so long since we have lain together," Allenya said, her voice becoming quiet again. "You left me in Magilnada, unfulfilled. What was I to think? Other soldiers take their wives on campaign, but not you, not the king."
"It is dangerous…"
"And yet families follow their fathers, whether they are legionnaires, captains or generals. You would not have me, and you left me to become a bargaining tool of that filthy pig."
Ullsaard was helpless against the accusations. It had been the presence of Askhos in his thoughts which had forced him to leave Allenya behind. How could he explain that he would not share her with the shade of a dead king?
"And then when we were reunited, our son dead, what did you do? You packed me away to Askh so that you could continue your war. And I waited for so long for you to return."
Allenya was shaking, every limb quivering, her breath coming in gulped gasps. She paced back and forth for a few steps and then launched herself at Ullsaard, battering her small fists against his chest and shoulders.
"You died! You died, you ungrateful bastard! You went away and were never coming back!"
Trying not to hurt Allenya, Ullsaard caught her arms and pushed her away, but she wriggled free and slapped him across the face. Startled, he shoved her, throwing her onto the bed.
"I'm sorry," he said, taking a step after her with a hand outstretched. Allenya rolled over, turning her back to him. "I am here now. I did not die. I am alive, and I'm here with you."
"Not to me," Allenya sobbed. Her shoulders heaved as she cried, her hands rucking the blanket in her fierce grip. "I was told you were dead. I saw your body. All of those cuts."
He sat on the bed behind her and placed a hand on her head, striking her hair. She glanced back at him, tears streaking her face.
"I saw your corpse, Ullsaard and I knew that you were dead."
There was nothing to say. Ullsaard could not change what had happened and words were meaningless. He pulled Allenya to his chest and cradled her in his thick arms, her face buried against him. She tried to pull away but he would not let her, his embrace firm but not tight. He bent his neck and kissed her hair.
Her sobs continued for some time. Ullsaard did not speak, but simply held Allenya close, feeling the wetness of her tears on his skin. When finally her crying subsided, she looked up at him, eyes reddened, and she looked as beautiful to him as when she had entered the room.
"I'm sorry," she said, and Ullsaard could not stop a laugh.
"You have nothing to be sorry about, my love," he said, stroking a hand over her cheek. "I am sorry, for all of the misery that I've heaped on you these past few years."
"But I would not have it any other way," said Allenya. "I should not blame you for the lies of others."
"But I was not there with you, and you are right that I should have been," replied Ullsaard. His eyes began to fill with tears as he thought of what he had missed. "If I had been a father and husband first, Jutaar might not be dead. I should not have made him first captain. He wasn't ready. He would never have been ready, but I needed someone I could trust with Anglhan. I sent him to be betrayed. I should have known better."
It was Allenya's turn to comfort Ullsaard, as the heartache of his son's death clenched tight in his chest.
"He always wanted to be a soldier," said his wife, sitting up so that she could lay her head on his shoulder and speak softly in his ear. "He was so proud of you."
"And I of him," said Ullsaard. "He always tried to make me proud and I never acknowledged it. I never told him how happy it made me to see him in breastplate and cloak."
Bowing his head, the king allowed Allenya to sooth his troubled thoughts, her hand moving up and down his back with slow strokes, easing the tension from his muscles. When his eyes were drying, he kissed his wife on the cheek.
"Tell me again how Anglhan died," he said.
"I stabbed him in the heart and cut off his balls," Allenya replied, and Ullsaard smiled. "He died begging and crying, in return for killing our son."
"I love you." Ullsaard kissed her on the lips.
"I love you too." Allenya placed her hand on the back of his neck and pulled him towards her, kissing him in return.
The taste of her, the warmth of Allenya's presence, sent energy through Ullsaard. His member was erect almost immediately, pressing against the leather of his kilt. For a moment a thought flickered into his mind: of Askhos. He dismissed it, knowing that he could not hold back any longer. He felt nothing of the dead king's presence and he needed to be with Allenya, fully and unconditionally.
She was pulling aside the front of her dress with one hand, grabbing Ullsaard's wrist in the other so that his hand moved to her exposed breast. He caressed it gently, holding back the ferocious desire that was threatening to engulf him. Their kisses became longer, tongues touching, hands exploring each other's bodies as if for the first time.
Ullsaard quivered as Allenya reached under his kilt, her fingers brushing along the length of his manhood. He twitched and squirmed as her hand engulfed him, massaging slowly from the base of his cock to the tip. He pulled away from her kisses and lowered his head to her breast, tongue circling the nipple before his mouth clamped around it. Her moan of pleasure caused his erection to stiffen even more, pressing almost painfully against the inside of his kilt.
Unable to restrain himself any longer, Ullsaard pushed Allenya aside, so that she lay twisted, her upper half on her front, backside rising up towards him. Pulling up her dress he savoured the sight of her pale buttocks, gently patting them before slipping his hand between her thighs, fingers probing wet hair and then finding entry.
Manoeuvring
one leg between Allenya's, Ullsaard slipped his manhood into her, pushing slowly until his whole length was inside. He gritted his teeth as she squeezed tight around him, sending a pulse of pleasure up his shaft.
"I can't…" he growled, pulling out and pushing into her once more before his orgasm exploded through him, every drop of his love and grief and desire flowing from the end of his cock into his wife. The climax felt as if it would never stop, spurt after spurt, every shuddering moment gripping his entire body.
He slumped over Allenya, engulfing her with his bulk. He did not know how long he lay there, unable to reason or sense anything other than the warmth that suffused him. After an age he rolled away onto his back, eyes closed. Allenya followed him, placing her head on his chest, her finger drawing circles on the inside of his thigh.
"I did not mean to finish so swiftly," he said, looking at Allenya. "I didn't mean to use you."
She smiled and her hand moved between his legs, stroking his balls. To Ullsaard's amazement, his member twinged in response, starting to harden again.
"Do not worry, my love," Allenya said, the words coming between kisses on his body that moved down toward his groin. "I will make sure I get what I need as well."
II
When finally Allenya and Ullsaard were sated by their lovemaking, the king slipped into a calm slumber. A dream came swiftly, of Askhos' mausoleum-cave in the other world that the dead king inhabited. Askhos sat on a wooden stall beside the stone slab of his tomb and looked surprised at Ullsaard's arrival.
"I did not expect to return here," said the First King. "I thought this place dead to me."
"It is," replied Ullsaard, sensing something different about the place. He looked out of the entrance and saw dark hillsides with a clear, starry sky above; the landscape of Okhar. "It is my memory of this place, not the original."
"You seem unusually happy considering your situation."
"Allenya and I have got to know each other again," said Ullsaard, smiling at the thought.
"Enjoy the moment while it lasts, Ullsaard. Your troubles will be waiting for you in the morning."
"They will, which is why I will wake shortly and fuck my wife again, to ensure that I make the most of this night." Ullsaard looked for somewhere to sit. He noticed a bench along one wall of the cave, carved from the stone itself.
"That was not here before," said Askhos as the king sat down.
"I think I have learnt something from you in the time you have spent in my head. This place, the world of my dreams, is alongside that one of which you speak. I can control what happens here, just as you used to. When Lakhyri took me through the dreamworld to Noran, something… something meshed with me. I can feel it, in the Blood, connecting me to you, to this place."
Askhos looked at the king with surprise.
"I do not think it is your understanding that increases." The First King paused and looked around, though his gaze was distant, not looking at the contents of the cave. He frowned as he focussed on Ullsaard once more. "Yes, as I suspected. The veil is thinning."
"Veil?"
"There are worlds within worlds within worlds. On and on, entire universes within other universes. The veil is a barrier, a reality that keeps them apart. Only in essence can we cross between – your dream self, here and now, for example. Physical things, our bodies, worlds, are kept separate. Something is breaking the barrier, coming from the otherworld to our reality. The thinning of the veil enables you to extend your will into the dream-sphere."
"What does that mean? What is trying to cross over? And what happens if the veil is torn?"
"All good questions," replied Askhos, perturbed by his own pronouncement. "I do not know for sure the right answer, but my guesses are all bad. Only Lakhyri can really tell us what is happening."
"He is in Askh, out of my reach for the moment."
Askhos stopped again, becoming frozen for a short while, during which Ullsaard felt the slight touch of the dead king fluttering through him, searching his memories. With a blink and a shudder, Askhos returned.
"I see, things are even worse than when our minds last touched. I am glad I missed out on the faking of your death, which seems a singularly unpleasant experience. What made you trust that Anglhan would keep his word?"
"Desperation," Ullsaard replied with a sigh. "I had no choice but to believe him when he said he intended for me to survive. The alternative was to die. I cannot think that he had my best interests at heart, but he saw me as his best means to regaining power. It would have been stupid to get myself killed just to spite his ambition."
"And now what do you plan to do?"
"I am not telling you," said Ullsaard, standing up. He grinned at Askhos' frown. "I do not trust you any more than I would trust your brother, or my son. I have no guarantee that you have not been the architect of my misfortune all this time. You have shown me the stranger underside of the world, and told me of how things can be in different locations and yet the same place, and messages can be sent across the world in a moment. How am I to know that you do not collude with Lakhyri?"
Askhos opened his mouth to reply but Ullsaard wagged a finger and the dead king's lips clamped shut.
"See? I am in control here. Always you have sought to use me for your purposes, and that will not continue. I am done with you."
Ullsaard turned his back on Askhos and walked out of the cave, feeling the mute protests of the king following him. Now that he had one less thing to worry about, Ullsaard could concentrate on more solid matters: retaking Askh and bringing his son to account for his actions.
III
Scratching his belly and yawning, Noran walked out of the guesthouse and into the courtyard of the villa. The air was crisp, as was the frost underfoot, but the low sun was bright, catching the rime on the edges of the roof tiles. Ullsaard was sat on a circular bench around the trunk of a leafless tree, a stylus in one hand and a folding wax tablet in the other. The king's face was a mask of concentration as he wrote, pausing every few moments to cock his head to one side and review his progress.
The gravel underfoot betrayed Noran's approach up the path and Ullsaard looked up. He raised the tablet to his brow to shield his eyes from the winter sun.
"Nice of you to join me," said the king. "I think I just heard third bells of Low Watch."
"There has not been a night passed since we left Askh that I was not awake to see the dawn, until this morning. I am entitled to some rest."
A look of guilt passed across Ullsaard's face, and Noran had known the king long enough to guess that it was not for past inconveniences that Ullsaard felt ashamed.
"What do you want?" Noran asked, his mood souring quickly.
"I need you to take a message to Anasind for me," said the king.
Noran looked at the tablet in Ullsaard's hand, unable to believe what he had just heard. He shook his head.
"I am not going to Carantathi for you."
Ullsaard laughed, genuine surprise on his face.
"I wouldn't ask you to! Anasind has been marching all winter, he should reach Ersua about the same time that you get there."
"I am not going to Ersua for you, either," said Noran. He sat down next to his friend. "Understand me, I did not turn up in Askh for your benefit, and I helped you escape only because of the past we share. I want nothing to do with this new war of yours."
"Really?" Ullsaard seemed more amused than irritated by Noran's declaration. "You would rather Urikh was king than me? You want the Brotherhood to rule the empire in his name?"
Urikh was not the problem, Noran thought. He had seen the things that the king had bargained with and wanted no part of opposing such power.
"I am heading hotwards, to Cosuan perhaps. I am getting out of the empire and if you were a smart man you would too. There is nothing left to fight for."
"You know that I will not give up without a fight. I have been wronged, and whatever Urikh thinks he is doing, all he is achieving is Lakhyri's will. I cannot allow
that."
"Urikh is an idiot," Noran blurted before he could stop himself. He clamped his teeth together to stop himself saying anything further.
"Why do you say that?" asked Ullsaard. "He has us outmanoeuvred, that's for sure. Well, he has until my message gets to Anasind."
"It doesn't matter," said Noran, standing up. He crossed his arms, defiant to the king's suggestion. "I am not going with any message to anybody. If I am caught, I will have my throat slit, or worse."
