by Gav Thorpe
THEDRAAN, ERSUA
Early Spring. 213th year of Askh
I
A crowd of people and wagons packed onto the road to hotwards, the clamour of their shouts and the braying of abada disturbing the calm, sunlit morning. Many on foot abandoned the road to stream across the fields in small groups – families and co-workers carrying what belongings they had rapidly gathered in sacks and on their backs. Like an infection, the fear had spread towards Thedraan in the early hours of the morning, brought by reports from farmers to duskwards and coldwards of thousands of fires burning in the night.
Most thought it was the Salphors, coming to take revenge for the sacking of Magilnada and the invasion of their lands. It was not a leap of logic for those who had lived their lives under constant threat of ambush and attack by the hillmen of the Altes. Few barely believed that Askhan armies had made it as far as Carantathi, and the jump to fear as soon as a sizeable body of men was sighted – even allowing for exaggeration by frightened farmers – was as likely as any other conclusion.
There were some who believed otherwise, who stood on the streets and balconies jeering those who were fleeing for their lives. Most were the older generation, who had lived in and around Thedraan when it had truly been under threat of Salphor attack, before the building of the Brotherhood Precinct and the legion barracks that had propelled the town's growth and prosperity. These stalwarts proclaimed the fires to be the victory pyres of the returning legions, come back to Ersua to declare their triumph.
There were a handful of men who knew the truth, and one of them watched the people pouring from Thedraan with a pensive expression. He stood in the uppermost chamber of the precinct building of Thedraan, watching the people of the town evacuating in their desperate, haphazard way. The disorder served his purpose, spreading fear and uncertainty, ensuring that those loyal to Ullsaard would not receive warm welcome further into the empire. Even now, Leraates was looking for some way to manoeuvre the current circumstances into an advantage for himself.
Those who had remained behind were closer to the truth than those who had run away, but they did not realise that the worst of both theories was about to engulf them. The legions were certainly coming back. They were not coming to celebrate. His blackcrests had encountered them three days' earlier. Though the Brother was not sure of exactly where he stood in the current situation, he was certain that Asuhas had betrayed him, sending him into Salphoria on a pointless search for Ullsaard. Anglhan was most likely serving his own or the governor's agenda too. It seemed unlikely to Leraates that they were for Ullsaard though, and so he deduced that his encounter with the lead elements of General Anasind's army was coincidence rather than intended by his former conspirators.
Turning about in the uppermost chamber of the precinct, Leraates looked out of the window to coldwards, where the dark stain of the approaching army bled across the horizon, spreading along roads and twisting paths towards Thedraan. There was a significant part of the senior Brother that wanted to flee with the panicked townsfolk; a part that was growing in influence as he watched the legions advancing on the town.
"Why do we stay?" asked Brother Addiel, who stood at the curtained archway at the bottom of the flight of steps that led into the observation room. Normally a young Brother like Addiel would not have been allowed into these levels, and he edged up the stairs as far as he dared, peering over the lip of the floor with wide eyes, trying to see what was worth be so secretive about. He would be disappointed – the observation chamber, right atop the pyramid, was only useful to those with the sight of the augmented, something even Leraates did not possess. When the masters came, their marked servants would be able to see each other across the distances of the empire, able to keep watch on vast swathes of land. For the moment, other than a stone table at its centre, the room was empty and uninteresting.
"Would you prefer to run?" asked Leraates, turning to look down at Addiel. He beckoned his inferior to continue up the stairs and waved a hand towards the throng of refugees when Addiel reached his side. "There will be clothes unattended you could take. Throw off your robe and become one with the masses."
"The armies of the usurper will clearly wish us killed," said Addiel. The youth walked to the high, shutterless window in the dawnwards wall. He leaned out over the sill, his voice dropping to a fear-filled whisper. "I am not so young that I don't remember the last pogrom, when he deposed King Lutaar."
"And you went into hiding then, yes?" Leraates was beginning to tire of his followers' naiveté. While it made it all the easier for them to be manipulated, their beliefs were slow to change at times, and the fear and loathing in which most held Ullsaard was almost insurmountable. "You think to do the same again?"
Addiel looked over his shoulder at Leraates and nodded.
"Our legionnaires have abandoned us," said the young man. "Only two score of them remain to protect us."
It was a matter of some disappointment for Leraates that the vast majority of his blackcrests, over four hundred men, had decided to abandon their Brotherhood commanders. Leraates did not know what rumour had spooked them so much but word had quickly spread back to the camp from the pickets and come first light the following day, almost all of the army had melted away. Captain Taarik and his inner cadre had remained to escort their charges back to the nearest town, which had happened to be Thedraan. The soldiers stood waiting in the square outside the precinct's main doors, though they were hardly likely to lay down their lives for the men who had taken shelter in the building.
"It might seem the wisest decision to depart, but I cannot concur," said Leraates. He joined the youth at the window and looked out, noting that the lead column of the incoming army was about ten miles from the outskirts of the town. Another tendril circled to duskwards, like a shepherd's boy sent by his master to corral the flock.
"Only those with something to fear, something to hide, would flee from the armies of the king." Leraates laid a hand on Addiel's shoulder and smiled. "If those soldiers were to come upon us on the road or in a meadow, they would wonder why we run from our appointed place and duties. Now we are merely Brothers in our precinct, tending to the business of the empire."
"There was whisper that the usurper is not really dead," said Addiel, fingers gripping the sill tightly.
"We cannot be held accountable for the mistakes of others, we have acted in good faith," Leraates assured his companion. He saw the golden glitter of several Askhos icons at the head of the marching army. "Go now, to the others on the lower levels, and tell them to assemble in the counting room. I will speak to them there and we shall prepare a suitable reception for General Anasind, heroic conqueror of our Salphorian foes."
Addiel nodded, but glanced back as he reached the steps.
"You are sure that we will not be judged at fault?" asked the youth.
"General Anasind is a man of reason, and with him will be several first captains of the legions. They are not in the business of slaughtering their own people on a whim, Addiel. Take my assurances to the others and wait for me as I have instructed."
When the boy had departed, Leraates returned his attention back to the encroaching army. He had little experience of Anasind in person, but he knew of him considerably. Though a diehard supporter of Ullsaard, the general would not assume the Brotherhood to be corrupt or at fault. Unless Ullsaard's recall to his troops had contained explicit instructions to treat the Brotherhood as hostile, there was every chance Anasind would continue on towards Askh to settle the matter with King Urikh, rather than waste time with a small place like Thedraan.
If Anasind was of a mind to prosecute some vendetta against the Brotherhood, Leraates was prepared for that also. Bearing such an eventuality in mind, he left the observation chamber and headed quickly down the steps. He would have to use all of his powers of persuasion on his fellow Brothers to keep them from betraying their guilt to Anasind and his captains, but before then he would spend a little time with the unexpected visitor who
had been waiting in Thedraan for his return.
II
Thedraan echoed to the tramp of thousands of sandaled feet and the clink of wargear. Street by street the men of the Thirteenth and Fifth legions spread through the town, securing every doorway, window, cellar entrance and yard. At the forefront of the advance into the town was general Anasind, First Captain Donar of the Fifth walking beside him. The two knew each other well from long years on the campaign road together, and neither felt like saying anything as their troops seized Thedraan.
With icon bearers and a bodyguard of several hundred men, they reached the main square, dominated by the ziggurat of the Brotherhood precinct. A line of legionnaires with blackfronted, golden-rimmed shields and jet black crests stood across the steps leading to the double doors of the building. An officer with a black sash across his breastplate stepped forwards, shield on his left arm, spear in his right hand.
"Do you want me to talk to him?" asked Donar. "You are a general, after all. You should have us inferiors do the talking for you."
"I don't remember Ullsaard ever doing that," replied Anasind. "I think I can speak for myself, but thank you for the offer."
More companies peeled away to the left and right as the general and his entourage strode across the cobbles of the square. Here and there a shout sounded from a side street or upper floor of a building, and there were bellows of protest and shrieks of shock from the inhabitants that had chosen to stay. Anasind stopped about a hundred paces short of the precinct steps and waited; if the blackcrest captain had something to say, he could approach the general. If not, Anasind was not going to go any nearer until the building was completely surrounded.
A small group of robed and cloaked dignitaries emerged from a three-storey building to Anasind's right, to be intercepted by a group of legionnaires from the eighth company. Voices were raised in demand, but Anasind had been very specific in his instructions and the merchants and nobles were escorted back into their meeting house at spearpoint.
While this was going on, the leader of the blackcrests realised that he would have to make the first move. Anasind felt a few spots of rain falling on his face and bare arms as the captain made his way across the square. Glancing up, the general saw clouds gathering upwind, promising a fiercer downfall to come. The wind was picking up too, bringing a chill edge to the air.
"Captain Taarik," said the officer, touching the haft of his spear to the brow of his helm in salute. The man was quite old, at least forty-five summers and likely at least ten more. His left eye was stitched shut and a scar ran across the bridge of his nose and down his right cheek, pale against weathered skin. The man had no beard, but moustaches grew to his chin either side of a thin-lipped mouth, in the style of old Ersuan chieftains. Judging by the man's height, perhaps two fingerwidths less than Anasind, and the captain's darker flesh, Taarik had a Nalanorian ancestor somewhere along the bloodline.
"I am General Anasind, of the Thirteenth. Where is your commanding Brother?"
"Brother Leraates and his associates are in the precinct, general," said Taarik. Anasind thought there was something familiar about the man's voice, but could not quite place it.
"And why do you stand on the steps as if to bar my progress?"
"I am duty-bound to protect the men and premises of the Brotherhood, and so until you declare peaceful intent I must hold the precinct clear." Taarik's formality did not cover his nervousness. The captain spent more time looking at the soldiers fanning out to other parts of the town than he did their commanding officer.
"How many men do you have, captain?" asked Donar.
"Just these, first captain," replied Taarik. He waved a hand to indicate roughly seventy men waiting on the steps.
"We have eighty thousand," Donar said quietly, leaning closer to Taarik to ensure his point was heard. The captain glanced at Anasind, perhaps for confirmation, and the general nodded. Blinking, Taarik straightened and fixed Anasind with an impassive stare.
"I answer only to the Brotherhood and the king," Taarik said stiffly. He was obviously a veteran, as were the men who had stayed to protect the Thedraan precinct, and Anasind was becoming more certain that he had seen the man before.
"Which legion did you serve in, Taarik?" said Anasind.
"The Tenth, general."
Anasind nodded as he absorbed that piece of information, but it was of no help to his memory.
"Have we met before, captain?" he asked, unable to shake the nagging familiarity. "Where do I know you from?"
"Askh, general." Taarik sighed. "You would have seen me then, the night before we took the city."
Anasind nodded again but could not place the encounter any better for Taarik's explanation. The general shrugged and pointed past the captain towards the precinct.
"I am a general with the authority of King Ullsaard, and if you do not dismiss your men they will be killed."
"King Ullsaard is dead." Taarik looked nonplussed, perhaps thinking that Anasind had not heard the news. "Killed in Salphoria, general."
"What you have heard is wrong, captain, or worse you have been deliberately misled," Anasind said patiently. He harboured no desire to butcher the blackcrests just for doing their duty, and wanted to give Taarik every opportunity to see sense.
The captain looked around again and Anasind did likewise, seeing that there were nearly ten companies in the square now, more than one and a half thousand men. They held a line to the left and right of the general, arranged two companies deep facing the precinct.
"You have done everything you can," Donar said, patting Taarik on the soldier in paternal fashion though the captain was clearer his elder. "Honour satisfied, duty done. Tell your men to walk away."
"How would you like to be a captain in a proper legion again?" said Anasind. "We are always looking for good officers in the Thirteenth."
"I am too old," replied Taarik. He looked back at his men. With a solemn expression, he lowered to one knee and presented his spear to Anasind. "But not so old that I don't value the years left to me. I cannot stop you entering the precinct, and I would not throw away the lives of my men. That they have stayed this long proves their courage."
"And no man will be punished for doing his duty," said Anasind, waving for Taarik to stand up, allowing him to keep his spear. "If you wish to remain after we depart and take up your protection of the town again, I would appreciate it, as would the rightful king."
Having seen the capitulation of their captain, the remaining men of the blackcrests started to move away from the precinct steps, a few at first, the rest joining them after a few moments' consideration. When the way was clear, Anasind raised a hand to attract the attention of the company captains. The rain started falling more heavily, pattering from the armour of the assembled soldiers, splashing from the dark cobbles. With a wave towards the precinct, Anasind sent his men forward. The square resounded to their purposeful tread as company-by-company they advanced on the ziggurat. Anasind had ordered that the building be taken without harm befalling any of the Brothers or others inside and the captains were doing their job well, ensuring that none of their men became carried away by an unseemly rush.
The doors were not barred and the men of the first company up the steps entered without pause, and soon lines of soldiers were gathering while others took up position around the building to stop anybody from slipping away.
When nearly half of the companies had entered, the steps were cleared, allowing the first prisoners to be brought out. Brothers in their black robes filed out of the doorway, eighteen of them. These men were quickly surrounded by soldiers and separated, each company taking a few prisoners away and passing them from one group to another until the Brothers were held apart on the side of the square furthest from the precinct. Anasind watched all of this without comment, pleased to see that no violence had been necessary.
The first batch of Brothers was followed a while later by several legionnaires escorting two men. One had the robes of a Brother,
the other was dressed in a shirt, tunic and kilt. Unlike the other prisoners, these two were brought hurriedly towards the general. As they approached, Anasind saw the flash of a silver mask beneath the hood of the Brother, but it was the other man that attracted his attention. Anasind's astonishment made him call out.
"Noran? What are you doing here?"
III
Leraates had decided that his best policy was to say as little as possible. He would answer the questions put to him as honestly as possible – without implicating himself in the deception of Ullsaard's death – but would volunteer no further information. It was timely that Urikh's herald, Noran Astaan, had arrived shortly before the Brother had returned, bearing important news concerning Ullsaard's next moves. There had been just enough time to communicate with Lakhyri to warn of the legions' return and to receive confirmation that Noran was under the sway of the current king. Having passed on the orders that Noran intended for Anasind, Leraates knew that there was no more he could do for the cause and every effort of his was now steered towards ensuring his continued survival.
