The Crown of the Usurper

by Gav Thorpe

  III

  Gelthius carefully placed his shield and spear on the ground and stepped back from them. The rest of his company – if two dozen bedraggled legionnaires could be called such – followed his lead. Around them, the bellows-bows of the kolubrid patrol were unwavering, ringing the men with bronze-headed shafts. The patrols' mounts bobbed their heads and hissed, scales glistening in the evening sun. The shields slung behind their intricate saddle-seats bore blue lacquer and silver bosses; men of the Third.

  "Where are you heading?" asked the patrol's leader.

  Gelthius glanced at Muuril, thinking it better that the question was not answered with a Salphorian accent.

  "Narun, if it's your business," said the sergeant. This was greeted with coarse laughs. "What's wrong with that?"

  "You picked a fucking bad time to desert, Twenty-first scum," said the patrol captain. "And you're definitely heading the wrong fucking way if you want to stay out of trouble."

  "We're Thirteenth," said Loordin. He nodded down at the discarded wargear. "We was just borrowing those for a while."

  "I'll bet," said the captain. He shouldered his bellow-bow and the other riders relaxed too.

  "It's true," said Muuril. "In fact, I'm the King's Companion. We got split from him at Menesun."

  "Is that fact?" The captain leaned over in his saddle, amused, looking at the ragtag group. "And you've walked all this way from Ersua to find him, have you?"

  "Pretty much," said Loordin. "We got a bit delayed on the way, you see."

  "I'm not sure what to do with you," the captain said as he straightened.

  "Is he still alive?" asked Gelthius. The captain's words had provided no answer to the question that had been in every man's mind since they had set out seen Ullsaard dragged out of Menesun. "The king, I mean."

  "Which one?" joked one of the riders.

  "Ullsaard, of course, you fucking arseholes," said Muuril. The patrol raised their weapons again as the sergeant stepped towards the captain. "Do you know if King Ullsaard is alive or not?"

  "Yes, Ullsaard's still alive. He's just about to leave Parmia," said the captain. Gelthius was not sure whether he welcomed the news or not, but there were smiles and laughs from many of the others. The patrol leader waved for his men to back off. "You got here just in time, I reckon. You must be Thirteenth, for sure."

  "Why's that?" said Gelthius.

  "Haven't you heard? Askh has been overrun by giant fucking spiders, the Brotherhood want to rule the world and the whole empire is falling to pieces. Only men from the Thirteenth would be fucking stupid enough to walk into that and be happy."

  IV

  The return of the Menesun survivors had brought a talismanic boost to Ullsaard's army, not least to the king himself. Noran had watched as Ullsaard had greeted each of the twenty-five men with a salute and a shake of the hand. They had been led around the camp of the Thirteenth like conquering heroes, receiving a personal triumph that matched in enthusiasm any received by a general returning to Askh, if not equalling such parades in grandeur. Ullsaard seemed especially pleased by their arrival; more than could be explained by an appreciation of such an example of loyalty and determination.

  "It must be because they are just as stubborn as you," the herald remarked over a cup of wine in the king's pavilion. "You think you can turn all of your army into men like that."

  "No, not in the time I have," replied Ullsaard. "That sort of pig-headed loyalty comes from years of shared battles. But you are right, I am very happy to see them alive. Almost as happy as they are to see me, it seems."

  "Do not try to tell me it is for sentimental reasons," said Noran.

  "It is, in part." Ullsaard shrugged and smiled. "Men like Muuril are rare. And Gelthius? He was a landship slave when I found him, and now he is probably the match of any second captain under my command. It genuinely makes me happy knowing they are still alive."

  "And yet?"

  "Their return has made me realise something, which I'd forgotten," said the king. "Put your faith in men and they'll put it in you." He shook his head. "No, more than that; much more than that. Adversity makes heroes out of the most normal of men. Those warriors have been at my side through the worst times I have had. They grumbled, they moaned, and even though they must have felt betrayed at Menesun, they came looking for me because they thought that I would lead them right. It's not that I know with men like that following me I can't fail. With men like that following me, I can't let myself fail. I have to do everything in my power to repay that loyalty and trust. I am the fucking king, my friend, and the empire looks to me."

  "All very nice, but what does that really count for? You always say that actions are better than words. What are you going to do to prove that to everyone?"

  "I'm going to save the empire. And you're going to help me."

  "Of course I am," Noran said with a sigh. "And how am I going to do that, this time?"

  "Sorry, but you'll have to go away again," said Ullsaard. "If we are going to stand any chance against those creatures Lakhyri has summoned, we're going to need something more than just flesh and bronze. We're going to need something much more than that. Pack for a long journey, you'll be heading to Maasra."

  "Maasra? What is so strong in Maasra?"

  Ullsaard smiled. The king's good humour had the opposite effect on Noran. The herald dreaded the king's reply, and was not disappointed.

  "Nemuria," said Ullsaard. "I need you to go to Nemuria." Shuddering as something darker than the night shadows stalked across the gardens, Luia closed the shutter and turned back to her sister. Meliu half-lay on a couch, her head resting on Ullnaar's shoulder.

  "She wishes to hear nothing you have to say," said Ullnaar, clasping his mother's hand.

  "Stop being childish," snapped Luia. "This is no time to be pretending that you cannot hear me."

  "There is nothing that comes from your lips that is not a lie or spite," murmured Meliu. "It was the same when we were young."

  "All is not yet lost," said Luia, sitting opposite her sister. "Ullsaard still lives."

  "I am sure he has no thanks for your part in his escape," said Ullnaar.

  "I am sorry," said Luia, folding her hands in her lap.

  "Sorry?" Meliu straightened and tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear. "You helped Urikh overthrow Ullsaard and you brought these hideous… these hideous creatures to Askh. There is no apology you can offer to make amends for that."

  "No, I suppose not."

  Luia fell silent for a moment, hearing the telltale skitter and scratch of a Eulanui moving past the window. She tried not to think about what had happened since their arrival but there was little else to occupy her mind; an existence spent for the most part hidden away with Urikh in her son's apartments. Occasionally Lakhyri would summon the pretender king to make a proclamation, but the noble and wealthy courtiers dragged in to hear such pronouncements cared not that the words came from one of the Blood. They knew clearly who held the reins of power in Askh these days, and it was not Urikh.

  The Eulanui – Luia had heard the high priest use the name on several occasions – were like a stain on the city. They prowled the streets and alleys just as they prowled the corridors of the palace. There were tales that people were going missing, but Luia did not know what had happened to them. Urikh was terrified, though he could not admit it. He and Luia had been standing at a window when the Eulanui had arrived, and watched in horror as the ancient temple had manifested in the grounds of the Grand Precincts. That terrible edifice towered over the palace, and the storm that had brought it forth seemed to have raged forever. The city had become a place of hot winds and energy-sapping dryness, and every night Luia had nightmares filled with the shadow-clothed creatures that had come to possess the world of men.

  "You do not have to stay," Luia said, when the Eulanui had passed. She did not know whether the creatures could hear as a human hears, but they certainly understood Lakhyri's entreaties and praise. For all she
knew they could look into the deepest part of her mind but she was past caring about herself. If her thoughts would betray her, she would face her fate like the queen she always knew she deserved to be.

  "The city is sealed," said Ullnaar. "If the gates were not barred, fear of the things that haunt the streets are imprisonment enough."

  "Not all passage is barred," Luia explained. "Members of the Brotherhood come and go, and there are still some patrols sent out to keep watch for attack. We have allies that would see both of you safe."

  "Allies?" Meliu raised an eyebrow and Luia understood her sister's doubt.

  "A captain in the First who has made acquaintance with my bed more than once," the queen admitted. "And will do so again if he sees you safely outside the walls of Askh."

  "You trust him?" said Ullnaar. "What does Urikh think of this?"

  "Urikh does not know," said Luia. "Lakhyri has him locked in perpetual dread. We can no more look to Urikh to solve our problems than we can anybody else."

  "Ullsaard will do something," Meliu said. Her loyalty was sickening at times, like a puppy's adoration for its master, but on this occasion Luia kept her scorn inside.

  "Yes, Ullsaard will do something, but until then we must look to ourselves to ease our woes."

  "You did not answer my question," said Ullnaar. "Do you trust this man?"

  "I trust that his cock hungers for my kind attentions and his desire to fuck a queen is undiminished by the experience of it," Luia said briskly. "This evening I promised him greater delights than he has yet experienced, in return for conveying you to safety."

  "If he has the means of escape, it must be more than lust for your cunt that keeps him in this city," said Ullnaar.

  "There are other reasons for his loyalty," Luia replied, ignoring the jibe implicit in her nephew's tone, "his three children and two wives being the greatest. There are some that have abandoned their families given opportunity, but many who return to their duties, hoping that their service will see their families spared whatever horrors others will face."

  "If it is your bed that seals his compliance, you must remain to give payment," said Meliu. "I cannot see why he will let you get away with debt outstanding."

  "I am not going," said Luia. She had made the decision the previous night, as she had suffered the captain's clumsy pawing and pounding. "It is for the two of you only that I have negotiated passage. You must be ready at Gravewatch, when he will oversee a caravan of supplies entering the city. Another group goes out to bring food from the farms, and in one of their wagons you will be hidden from discovery."

  "Why?" said Meliu, suspicious as ever of her older sister's motives. "Do not pretend it is out of feelings for me and Ullnaar."

  Luia bit back an insult, hurt by the accusation. She had known Meliu would not trust her but it did not matter. Seeing her sister and nephew safe was her sole concern that night.

  "Urikh needs me, so I must remain behind," she said, ignoring the question. "Nobody else will protect him."

  "You think you can protect him from these invaders?" Ullnaar laughed bitterly. "Have you some power not yet demonstrated?"

  Luia offered no reply. It was not from the Eulanui that Urikh needed protection, nor from Lakhyri. The greatest threat to Urikh's future was currently Urikh himself. Luia wanted to be free of distraction so that she could concentrate on his wellbeing.

  "I will come at Gravewatch, be ready," she said standing up. "When you are out of the city, you should head for Enair. Pretaa will take you in."

  As Luia strode towards the door, Meliu called for her to wait. She turned to find Meliu on her feet, tears in her eyes.

  "Keep yourself safe, sister," said Meliu. "And thank you."

  The urge to return and embrace Meliu was almost overwhelming. Since childhood they had been opposites and the years had widened the divide, but they were still sisters. Urikh was too obsessed with himself to be any comfort and Ullsaard had considered Luia little more than an inconvenience once she had been the first to provide him with an heir. The thought that she might seek comfort in the arms of Meliu, even just for a moment, burned inside Luia, but she could not bring herself to indulge that weakness. If she held her sister now, would she be able to let go and see her removed from the palace? Would her sister's love provide solace from the catastrophe her son had unleashed? She could not afford to find out; Urikh and the empire depended upon her being strong.

  "Just be ready," said Luia. She left with more haste than dignity, before she changed her mind.

  OORANDIA, NALANOR

  Midsummer, 213th year of Askh

  I

  The smoke rising from the centre of Oorandia and the cheering mobs that greeted the king as he advanced through the suburbs of the city were testament to whatever it was Noran had done before leaving for Nemuria. On reaching the Brotherhood precinct he found the doors broken from their hinges and the slit windows blackened with soot. The smoke came from a fire at the centre of the square flanked by the precinct and the homes of the local worthies.

  Legionnaires held back small crowds at each of the intersections leading into the square and the shouts of the inhabitants continued to decry the Brotherhood.

  "Find out what they've been burning, and secure what's left of the precinct," Ullsaard told Meesiu, whose Third Legion was accompanying the king. Anasind and the rest of the army were forming a cordon around the city. "Try to find any intact records."

  The clamour from the protesting citizens was such that Ullsaard crossed the square to the nearest street and ordered his soldiers to let him through. The crowd was a few dozen strong and backed away as the captain leading the company holding the road barked for respect to be shown to the king.

  "Go back to your homes," Ullsaard said. "Announcements will be made in the morning."

  "What about our money?" one toothless old worker demanded, waving something at Ullsaard. "The precinct vault's all locked up."

  "What have you got?" said Ullsaard. He stepped forward and took the small piece of bronze the man was holding. At first he thought it was a coin, but not any denomination he had seen before. On one side was the image of a Brotherhood precinct, rising up on four tiers. It was then that Ullsaard recognised the markings on the other side – a tax token. They were used by legionnaires in lieu of real coin whilst in camp, and could be exchanged at Brotherhood precincts to claim pension every quarter-year. When a legionnaire was signed to retirement he was given enough tokens for ten years.

  "Where did you get this?" Ullsaard demanded, as the old man made a grasp for the token. "Who gave it to you?"

  "You did!" someone called from further into the crowd, followed by laughter.

  "A Brother gave it to me, as sure as you're standing here," said the old man. "Bounty of the king, he told us."

  "The Brothers weren't honouring it, and when one of them confessed that they had deposed the king, we took matters into our own hands," said a short woman who was elbowing her way to the front. She bobbed awkwardly in front of the king and looked up at him hopefully. "We're going to get our money, right?"

  The mood of the people was already starting to turn sour as Ullsaard looked over the crowd. They looked at him with a mixture of expectation, concern and surprise.

  "Yes, you'll get your money," Ullsaard told them, knowing that to say anything else was to invite a riot, which he had not the inclination to deal with. "I am here to administer the payments. Return to your homes and wait until you are called for. This is Greater Askhor, where we do things in timely and orderly fashion; I'll not have you scrabbling around like Salphorian pigs in shit."

  Though they were being told they would have to wait, the people received this speech with a ragged cheer and some clapping. Only an Askhan could take pride in bureaucracy if the alternative was to be considered a barbarian.

  Ullsaard handed the token back to the old man and sent him on his way with a smile and a slap on the shoulder.

  "Make sure they disperse," he told the watch
captain as he returned to the square. He spied Anasind with Meesiu and strode over to the pair of officers. They fell silent at his approach.

  "What can you tell me about pension tokens?" the king asked his general. Anasind smiled and shrugged.

  "Noran said it was best not to bore you with the details. Anyway, we raided the Brotherhood stores in Parmia and had the camp forges make up some more. I gave Noran thirty men as couriers, heading all over the empire with the same story. The king has ordered a payment to every citizen in the empire. People are already worried about the removal of the governors, and this gives them more to get aggravated about. Noran thought this would make the people more inclined to believe the Brotherhood were the enemy." Anasind jabbed a thumb towards the soot-stained precinct. "Never stand between a citizen and his tax rebate."