The Crown of blood tcob-1

by Gav Thorpe

  Seeing their master approach, a small group of servants who had been sheltering in the shade of the fence jumped to their feet. Ullsaard signalled for them to approach, and pointed to Diirin, one of the youngest.

  "Run back to the apartments and warn Ariid that I'll need my ceremonial gear ready as soon as I am back. Tell my wives that they'll also be required to greet Governor Allon. And tell Ariid not to take any shit from Luia this time; she's coming whether she likes it or not. If she argues, tell her from me that if she doesn't cause any fuss, I'll buy her the wrestler, Huurit."

  The boy nodded in understanding and set off briskly while Ullsaard headed towards the arching gate of Maarmes at a slower pace.

  "Will you join us this evening?" he asked Ullnaar. The boy shook his head.

  "I have to head back to the college tonight. I was only able to be excused today because I told Meemis you would be leaving soon and this was likely the last opportunity I would have to see you."

  "You lied?"

  "Lawyers do not lie, Father," grinned Ullnaar. "I made an assumption."

  "That's all right then," said Ullsaard, putting an arm across his son's shoulders. "You'll have time to see your brother if he's here? I'm sure Allenya will have rooted him out by the time we get back, if he is around."

  "I am sure I could spare the time for a cup of wine and a small meal with you. I have already had lunch with Mother."

  "I'm sorry I was not here to raise a ewer to you on your ascension," Ullsaard said. "If it's any consolation, I wasn't around for your brothers', either."

  "I do not hold your absence against you. I grew up knowing that you would not be around for most of the time."

  There was nothing Ullsaard could think of in reply to that and they walked back to the palaces in silence.

  II

  They were turning into the corridor leading to Ullsaard's apartments when a harassed-looking Ariid hurried towards them.

  "I have an urgent message for you from Prince Aalun," he said. "The prince summons you to the Hall of Askhos immediately. He has had servants scouring the palaces for you!"

  "Did he say what he wants me for?"

  "No, master. The message said only to attend him as soon as possible."

  "I'll see you later, I hope," Ullsaard said, turning to Ullnaar. He took his son's hand and shook it. "If I don't, remember that I'm very proud of you."

  "Thank you. I hope all goes well with the prince."

  Ullsaard dismissed the servants and headed across the palace at a swift march. Several more servants in Aalun's household waylaid him, each relaying the same message as Ariid. By the time he reached the throne room, Ullsaard was in an anxious mood.

  The hall was busy when Ullsaard entered. King Lutaar paced back and forth in front of his throne, his face in a deep scowl. Udaan stood in his customary place, along with several other silver-masked senior Brothers. Each of the governors was present with a gathering of functionaries and advisors. All were dressed in white robes of office, with sashes bearing the colours of their provinces.

  Nemtun sprawled on a low couch, eyes half-closed, wearing the green-and-gold of Okhar; hawk-faced Murian from Anrair hovered close to the king, his sash light blue and green; Adral, the short, grey-haired governor wearing the gold and black of Nalanor; Kulrua of Maasra, adorned with dark blue, surrounded by a crowd of shaven-headed servants taking notes on wax slabs; Asuhas from Ersua, a timid little man who stood chewing his fingernails and fiddling with his grey and green sash; and Allon, wearing the same depressed expression Ullsaard had come to know so well as First Captain to the governor of Enair, garbed with deep red.

  Prince Aalun stood beside the throne, but there was no sign of Kalmud. The prince appeared to be arguing with Udaan.

  "…there is most certainly a precedent for such a change," Aalun was saying. "In the reign of my great-great-grandfather, Askhos' Decree of Dominion was changed to allow non-Askhan men to attain the rank of general and lead the legions. In the time before that, the rulers of Askh first allowed women to be part-owners of their husband's trades. When King Nuurin held the throne-"

  "That is enough!" snapped Lutaar. He looked down the hall and saw Ullsaard. The king's brow creased even deeper. "What are you doing here?"

  Ullsaard stopped mid-step and bowed.

  "I was summoned by Prince Aalun," he replied.

  "Is that so?" The king's narrowed eyes swung back to his son. "What is the meaning of this?"

  "Though none has used it for some time, every general of the empire is entitled to a vote on changes to imperial law," Aalun replied evenly. He looked at Udaan, who nodded, though somewhat reluctantly. "Since General Ullsaard is currently in Askh, he has every right to be included in our deliberations."

  "And why is he still in Askh? One might think he has been loitering here for some purpose of yours, Aalun."

  "Not at all, Father. He is still waiting for your decision on whether he is to return to Mekha or join with the Greenwater legions."

  Lutaar curled his lip in irritation.

  "Then he can have my decision now." The king's angry stare fell upon Ullsaard. "He is to return to his legions in Mekha immediately. Before leaving, he will receive orders for General Cosuas to take command of the Greenwater campaign. That is my decision."

  Ullsaard bit back a protest and managed a nod of acknowledgement.

  "I will draft the orders this evening," said Aalun, his eyes fixed on his father. "Perhaps we could return to the matter for which I have brought everybody here?"

  "No," Lutaar said sharply. "I will hear no more of this idiocy concerning your brother's status as imperial heir."

  "You seem to be wasting all of our time, Prince," said Adral. "The king has spoken. Unless anyone else wishes to make any remarks, I suggest we end this now and each go back to our provinces to perform our duties."

  Murian cleared his throat nervously.

  "I do have another point to raise, if the matter of the succession is concluded."

  All eyes turned to Aalun, who waved for Murian to continue, conceding that his objections were finished.

  "For the third time this year, the chief of Magilnada, Gerlhan, has raised his levy on grain coming through his city," Murian told the council. "Many of my merchants are being driven out of business. The price in the markets has been rising steadily for several years now. My citizens are very distressed by this, and I am sure my fellow governors have received similar complaints."

  There were grunts and murmurs of agreement around the hall.

  "What is that you propose?" asked Udaan.

  "It is robbery, pure and simple," Murian said plaintively. "I wish the king to back an imperial delegation to Magilnada, to demand that Gerlhan reduce his taxes. The man is starving Askhan citizens!"

  "Perhaps we could compensate by lowering the imperial tithe on Askhan grain," suggested Allon. "That would free up more of the coming home harvest to ease the demand on these expensive imports."

  "Unthinkable!" snorted Nemtun. "Those tithes go straight to the legions."

  "And that has nothing to do with almost a third of our grain coming from Okharan farms?" said Murian. "Farms that you own and that benefit from not only a fixed military contract, but at the growing market rate in Askh."

  "I am not going to apologise for assuring a steady supply, and if you have some other accusation against me, level it more clearly."

  "I have to agree," said Ullsaard. He ignored the hostility flowing from several of the governors, Nemtun and Adral chief amongst them. "There is no forage in Upper Mekha; my legions are wholly dependent upon those supplies until irrigation can be dug and farms established. That will take all of the winter, and there is no guarantee of a sure harvest next year. We need that grain."

  "Now you see why it is so important that you continue to expand our hotwards border," Lutaar said. "We need more farmland."

  "There is more fertile land around Magilnada, and bountiful harvests in Salphoria," said Ullsaard, sensing the m
ood of the governors. "With that harvest coming, it would be a better use of my legions to secure the Magilnada grain trail than scrape a few more farms out of the Mekhani desert. If nothing else, having a few legions on the road might remind this chief where he gets most of his money."

  Murian nodded enthusiastically, and there was approval in the eyes of Allon and Asuhas.

  "I am not going to start a war with Salphoria," the king announced, dashing Ullsaard's growing hope. "Our main thrust will continue to be along the Greenwater."

  The governors fell to bickering over tithe rates and trade deals, which washed over Ullsaard's numbed mind. His fate had been decided. He would be returning to the heat and sand of Mekha.

  III

  Ullsaard did not head back to his apartment. He strode through the palace in a foul mood, heading for the inner gardens. Servants scurried from his path, casting nervous looks at the general as he passed. He had reached the atrium, the sun slanting through its high windows, when a call from behind brought him to a halt. He turned to see Noran. The herald caught up with Ullsaard and the pair walked into the gardens together.

  "I've seen brighter storm clouds," said Noran. "It looks like someone pissed in your wine."

  Ullsaard simply grunted in reply as the two of them crossed the paved border of the garden onto a close-cropped lawn. The snip of knives sounded from across the grass where three servants knelt, using their blades to trim the lawn's edge. The general was content to follow his friend to a bench beside a shallow pool. Red-scaled fish swam lazily above a multicoloured mosaic of circles and curves.

  They sat in silence for some time until Noran's patience finally wore thin.

  "So, what news is so bad that you're stalking the palace with a face like thunder?"

  "Cosuas is getting the Greenwater campaign," Ullsaard said between gritted teeth. Saying it out loud made the king's proclamation even harder to bear.

  "I see," Noran said quietly. "So you'll be heading back to Mekha soon."

  Ullsaard turned his bleak stare on his friend.

  "Tomorrow."

  Noran let out a sigh of sympathy. They sat for a while longer. Noran began to fidget, increasing Ullsaard's annoyance. Finally the general could hold his frustration no more.

  "Fucking politics," he growled. "The empire's being run by men who can count sacks of grain but wouldn't know one end of a spear from the other. All they're interested in is holding what they've got. And those Brotherhood bastards looking over all our shoulders, keeping an eye on us like they were Askhos's own fucking guard dogs."

  He stood up and took a pace before rounding on Noran.

  "And all the fucking nobles as well, with their villas and their farms and their tenants, all taking their share and putting in nothing." Ullsaard saw the shock on his friend's face and he realised what he had said. He reached out a hand. "I didn't mean you, you know? I'm sorry…"

  Noran waved the apology away.

  "Don't fret about it, I'm not insulted. Truth be told, you're right. Most of the men with power and wealth did little to earn it. Even merchants have to get up every morning and sell their wares. But what would you rather we had?"

  Noran motioned for Ullsaard to sit down. The general did so, resting his elbow on his knee, chin in hand.

  "I don't know. Something more than this. I was brought up with the histories of Askhos and Luriun and Muuris the Proud. Men who did things; carved a whole fucking empire by themselves. When did Greater Askhor stop needing men like that?"

  "When we achieved peace," said Noran. "And here's the thing. You didn't grow up with the histories of those heroes; you grew up with their myths. I've read actual history, and it wasn't all the glorious victories and sunshine you think it was. Luriun? He killed his brother and raped his widow because his own wives couldn't produce a male heir. He destroyed the bridges at Narun and refused to rebuild them until the king agreed to marry his eldest son to Luriun's cousin.

  "And before that, what was Muuris? Just another tribal chieftain, killing his neighbours and taking their livestock for himself. Muuris probably butchered more Askhans than all of the Nalanorian tribes did. But Askhos was clever enough to persuade Muuris that it was better for him to set off coldwards and fight there than keep shitting on his own doorstep."

  "You make them sound like thugs and thieves," said Ullsaard. "What does that make me? A failed thug?"

  "A civilised man," replied Noran. "You can't compare the empire as it is now to how it was born. We've taken the best of what was created and got rid of the bad parts. Well, most of the bad parts. You may not like us, but the noble families provide continuity. Like the Blood. It was my ancestors that joined Askhos and Muuris and all those other heroes; fed them with the grain from our fields, armed them with the copper from our mines, gave them our women as wives and our men as soldiers. We took no fewer risks than anyone else. We entrusted our futures to those heroes of yours, made them what they were, so don't be surprised that we're reaping the benefits now."

  Though Ullsaard had to concede Noran's point, he still didn't like it. Who could say what achievements his father and grandfathers and great-grandfathers had accomplished? Yet that had not counted for anything because he wasn't a noble; he wasn't even a born Askhan. An elderly servant hobbled across the lawn calling his name. "What is it?" Ullsaard growled.

  "Prince Aalun asks that you join him in his chambers to discuss your new orders, General."

  "He can write them without me," said Ullsaard.

  "He was most insistent, General."

  "You best go," said Noran, standing up.

  Ullsaard sighed. All he wanted was some fresh air and to spend the next few watches with his family. In the morning he would be leaving; he had no idea how long it would be before he returned. With a reluctant nod, Ullsaard waved for the servant to lead the way.

  IV

  The functionary took Ullsaard through Aalun's apartment to a small room filled with papers and tablets. The prince stood at a desk in its centre, a large map spread across it. He looked up with a smile as Ullsaard entered.

  "Thank you, Renio, please close the door," Aalun said. He saw Ullsaard's downcast expression. "Do not be so glum, my friend. We can work this situation to our advantage."

  "Really? As I see it, I have wasted the better part of the summer coming here, for nothing."

  Aalun wagged his finger.

  "Not at all, Ullsaard, not at all. Just after you left, my father acceded to the governors' demand that something be done about the grain problem. The king has tasked me with resolving the matter."

  Ullsaard slumped into a chair beside the desk.

  "Grain problem? I've been overlooked for what will likely be the best command of my life and you want me to worry about grain?"

  "Stop sulking and listen to what I have to say," snapped Aalun. He visibly calmed himself. "Moving Cosuas to the Greenwater gives us an opportunity; one that will be even more to your liking."

  Ullsaard leaned forward.

  "I'm listening."

  "The king has not said anything about how to resolve this grain problem, so I am of a mind to side with Murian. For the moment, it is impractical to continue the Mekha expansion, so I am going to issue orders for you to bring back your legions. You'll return with them to Askhor, and with their presence I will be able to put pressure on my father to change the succession."

  Ullsaard rocked back.

  "You want me to use my legions to threaten the king? It's unthinkable!"

  "Nonsense! It was part and parcel of politics when the empire was being built. And it's not a threat, it's a reminder. I did not bring all of the governors here in the expectation that they would side with me in this argument; I did it to remind my father that though he rules Greater Askhor, he cannot govern by himself. As he has grown older he has become more convinced that the empire works simply because he says it will. The truth is the governors support him for as long as he gives them enough freedom to do what they want and gives them no reas
on not to support him."

  "And how do my legions fit into this… reminder?"

  "You have a genuine grievance to air. Two grievances, in fact. Firstly, there is the practical matter of the grain supply. If the situation deteriorates over the winter, as I suspect it will, you will be left in a very precarious position. Who can say what the legions will do if you are forced to reduce their rations? On top of that, I have been doing some reading of the old laws. Did you know that a general with one hundred thousand defeated enemies has a right to nominate a campaign of his choice for a season?"

  "I didn't know that."

  "Of course not; it is in the interests of the king and the governors that you remain ignorant of your powers. In fact, they've probably forgotten that right exists. It comes from when Ersua and Maasra were being conquered. There was no distinction between governors and generals back then, so to prevent it becoming a free-for-all with the legion commanders going after the same prizes, the king decided to introduce this law as a reward for those that were most successful. In short, if you followed your orders and won a few battles, the king would give you free rein for the next summer, stopping the other commanders from taking a bite out of your pie."

  Ullsaard rubbed his chin thoughtfully and imagined the possibilities of being given freedom of command for a whole summer.

  "I can certainly see how that would be motivating," he said. Ullsaard smirked at another thought. "And if my men were to know that was the case, you can be sure they would press me hard to take them somewhere more profitable than Mekha."

  "Yes, that is a good point," said Aalun.

  "But why did they stop offering this right? What was true then must still be true now."

  Aalun sat down behind the desk and swept his hand over the map, encompassing the provinces of Greater Askhor.