by Gav Thorpe
"I said perhaps later." He gently grabbed her wrists and pulled them away. "Send Donaal in with more soap and my ceremonial armour."
"Of course, husband," said Meliu, holding her tears behind a smile. "Whatever you want."
III
Garbed in a thin skirt of white linen and a black tunic, Ullsaard joined his wives in the feast room; he would put on his gilded breastplate and don his helm when it was time to leave.
"What have my sons been up to?" he asked as a servant poured wine and water for him.
"Ullnaar has been accepted into the colleges of Meemis," Meliu announced with a proud smile. "Luckily he has your mind and not mine."
"And your looks and not mine," said Ullsaard with a grin. "I had forgotten he came of age in the spring. It doesn't seem possible that it has been sixteen years since you brought him into this world."
"Urikh has bought himself a stake in the copper mines at Saartia," said Luia.
"What has Ullnaar decided to study?" said Ullsaard, ignoring Luia's interruption.
"Law," replied Meliu.
Ullsaard absorbed this as he filled his plate with slices of roasted fowl and dark bread.
"He's not joining the Brotherhood," the general declared heavily.
"Not at all," said Meliu, passing her husband a platter of hardbaked grain cakes. "He is going to study city law, not criminal. Like Ahsaam and Heriot, he said."
"Never heard of either of them."
"Me too," laughed Meliu. "I think they were advisors to the last king. He is so clever."
Ullsaard turned his gaze on Luia.
"Urikh is expanding his mercantile influence quickly," he said. "Kolubrid breeding, part ownership of a ship, and now copper. I suppose he'll want me to put in a word for him with the legion provisioners again."
"It wouldn't hurt," replied Luia. "Though he says he already has a contract with a consortium of Ersuan kettlemakers."
"Kettlemakers? Not interested in making armour and weapons?"
"He thinks that the legions are well-equipped as it is; he sees little profit in military supply at the moment. But every farmwife and kitchen master needs a good copper kettle."
"And where is he at the moment?"
"In Caprion, talking to his Ersuan customers. He could be back quite soon, perhaps before you leave. You might see him. That would be nice, wouldn't it?"
"You are staying for a while, aren't you?" asked Meliu.
"I've no idea," Ullsaard said with a shrug. "For all I know, I'll be packed off down the Greenwater come tomorrow. We'll have to wait to see what Aalun and the king have to say this evening."
"Please at least try to stay for a few days," Allenya said quietly. "Enjoy the comforts at home."
Ullsaard smiled and sank his teeth into a peach, the juice running into his beard. His eyes stayed on Allenya. He took another bite and sighed.
"If I stay too long, I'll get used to all this again, and then it'll be harder to leave."
"Let's not talk about leaving then," said Allenya. "You have only just come back to us."
"Good idea. So, I know about my eldest and my youngest, tell me about Jutaar."
"He remains in service to Governor Allon. He is still third captain."
"Not yet made second?" Ullsaard could not hide his disappointment.
"He doesn't have the fire of his father," said Luia. "He has neither Urikh's ambition nor Ullnaar's wit. You really should find something more suitable for him than the legions."
"Perhaps a foreman somewhere," suggested Meliu. "He is very practically minded."
"He loves being a soldier," said Allenya, directing a frown towards her sisters. She turned her gaze upon Ullsaard with a slight smile. "Allon writes to me frequently, praising Jutaar's dedication to duty and steadfastness. Our son is content, happy even, which is more than can be said for many who aim above their means."
"It is just as well that Urikh has a mind to grow the family's fortunes in the years to come," said Luia. "If Jutaar were your heir, his happiness and contentment would see our grandchildren labouring in the fields or mines."
"That won't happen," said Ullsaard. "Despite your extravagances, there is still enough put by to give our grandchildren a good start in life."
"A good start?" There was a sneer in Luia's tone, though her face did not betray her scorn. "I want my granddaughter to have more than a 'good start'. Luissa will be the envy of noblewomen across Askh, perhaps even marry a prince."
"She is only four, I think we should stop gossiping about Luissa as if she were come of age," said Meliu.
Ullsaard laughed, but there was no humour in him. He leaned an elbow on the table and pointed at Luia.
"Not a chance! You may have lofty goals and ancestors of name, but there is not a drop of the Blood in this family's veins. You think your granddaughter will marry into noble lineage? No Prince of the Blood will look at her twice. You might have your fine Askhan heritage, but her name is wrong, her grandfather of Enairian stock. Perhaps you should set about finding her a wealthy merchant or perhaps a respectable officer."
"Something else to thank my wise sister for," Luia said, darting a venomous stare at Allenya.
"Enough!" growled Ullsaard, slapping his hand down, sending a wine jug spinning, its scarlet contents splashing across the lacquered wood of the table. He fixed Luia with a stare. "I am not ashamed of who I am. I have given you healthy sons, provided food for your table and brought you to the palace of the king. Do not think you have somehow missed out in life because of your marriage to me! Lands in my name rival those of the oldest Askhan families. Lands, I might add, that I took by my own hand, unlike most of those entitled bastards that are our neighbours."
"You have done well by us all, husband," said Allenya.
"I would choose no other," added Meliu. "You know that, don't you?"
Ullsaard kept his gaze on Luia, who returned it with an expression of apathy. Ullsaard mentally dared her to show some sign of defiance. Instead, she smiled thinly and stood up.
"You are one of the greatest generals of the empire and any woman would be proud to call such her husband," Luia said. "Please excuse me, husband, I am quite worn out by the excitement of today."
Ullsaard nodded, eyes still fixed on his middle wife. When Luia had gone, he turned to Meliu. Her lip quivered and she gripped the edge of the table fiercely.
"Ignore your sister's barbs. She is just jealous that you are younger and far prettier than she is."
"Yes, she is," replied Meliu with a half-smile. She glanced between Ullsaard and Allenya and the flicker of a smile disappeared. "Please excuse me also; I wish to write a letter to Ullnaar."
"Of course," said Ullsaard. He took two steps towards Meliu with an outstretched hand, but she turned away hurriedly and left.
"You confuse her," Allenya said quietly.
"I do not mean to," Ullsaard said, pulling Allenya to her feet. He stooped to embrace her, burying his face in her thick hair. He whispered in her ear. "She is a lovely woman, full of joy and devotion, and brings out a lust in me that I cannot control. But she is not you, my love."
Allenya stroked the back of his head and kissed him on the cheek.
"I know," she sighed. "Do not trouble yourself over it. I will talk to her. And Luia."
"If Luia is the price I pay for you, I gladly accept it." Ullsaard tightened his arms around the wife he loved and wondered why he had ever agreed to the stupid Askhan custom of marrying her sisters.
"Luia is the price you pay for Aalun's favour," said Allenya, guessing his thoughts. "You know I would have married a captain and lived happily in Enair."
"I know," replied Ullsaard as he straightened. He looked at the thick hangings on the wall, the plates of food on the table, the marble underfoot. "But then we would have none of this, and you deserve all of it."
A gong sounded from outside, echoing through the palace. It was followed quickly by two chimes of a bell. Ullsaard pulled himself away, as reluctantly as if he peele
d off his own skin.
"Second hour of Dusk," he sighed. "I best get ready and go to the king. Hopefully I will not be gone long."
Allenya took his hand and followed Ullsaard as he made his way back to the hallway, where servants stood waiting with his armour. He gave her hand a squeeze and let go, gesturing to the servants to approach.
"I will wait up for you," Allenya promised. Ullsaard nodded and his eyes followed her as she walked through the archway to her rooms, his gaze lingering there for a moment after she had disappeared from view.
IV
Ullsaard entered the king's hall with little ceremony; a captain in dress armour opened the high door and announced the general's arrival. Stepping through, Ullsaard saw four men. All looked down the narrow hall towards the door. King Lutaar sat upon a throne of black marble, slight and severe, his skin heavily folded, his hair close-cropped to his balding head. Beside him, Prince Aalun sat on a high-backed chair, his golden sash dangling over its back. On the other side, Prince Kalmud lay on a low bier, head and torso propped up by a hill of cushions. There was a waxy, sallow sheen to his skin and his eyes were sunk in the sockets, dull and listless. The fourth man stood at the king's right shoulder, clad in a black robe with its hood thrown back, face concealed by a silver mask blank save for a mouth-slit, and two oblong holes behind which dark eyes regarded Ullsaard carefully: Udaan, head of the Brotherhood.
"Welcome back, Ullsaard." The king's voice was strong and deep, carrying down the hall easily as Ullsaard approached the throne. "I trust that your endeavours in Mekha progress well."
"It has been a hard summer, Majesty, but as the weather cools I hope that progress will be quicker," replied Ullsaard, stopping before the throne with a short bow. "The men have been in good spirits and the Mekhani have suffered their first defeat."
"If you are in need of anything – soldiers, masons, supplies – be sure to let Aalun know before you leave."
Ullsaard did not voice his disappointment at this statement, but he could not stop a slight frown.
"Is there something you wish to tell us?" asked Udaan. His voice was a hoarse whisper, given a metallic ring by his mask.
Ullsaard looked to Aalun, seeking help. The prince nodded slightly in response.
"I believe that Ullsaard wishes to discuss the Greenwater campaign," said the prince. He glanced at his brother and continued. "Kalmud is not fit to lead his legions for the moment, and I thought it would be wise to discuss the ongoing prosecution of our exploration hotwards."
Udaan turned to the prince, inscrutable behind his mask, but it was the king that spoke first.
"No decision need be made until the spring. The legions are well-camped and under no immediate threat. If Kalmud is still unwell, Cosuas deserves the honour. In all likelihood he is on his final campaign."
"A campaign that needs vigour and strength, Father," Aalun said while Ullsaard fought to quell his anger at having been brought to Askh on a fool's errand. "As you say, Cosuas is nearing the end of his days. It would be foolish to have to change commanders again soon."
"Are you saying the king is a fool?" Udaan's whisper left the accusation hanging.
Aalun ignored the Brother and looked directly at his father.
"It is time to let Ullsaard show us his full capabilities," the prince said evenly. "The Greenwater campaign is an opportunity for all of us, and it is too important to chance on the vagaries of Kalmud's recovery and the continued health of Cosuas."
Lutaar pursed his lips and nodded.
"I will consider your petition," the king said. His eyes fixed on Ullsaard like a hawk spying its prey. "Is this what you desire? I cannot say when you would be returning, for it would be your task to follow the Greenwater until it reaches the seas. Are you willing to do that?"
"Without hesitation, Majesty," replied Ullsaard. "I live to serve Greater Askhor and push back the boundaries of the empire. I would consider it an honour, not a chore."
"I believe you would," said the king. He glanced at Aalun and at Udaan. "I will consider the matter."
"That is all I ask, Majesty," Ullsaard said with another bow.
"I sense you have concerns beyond the Greenwater campaign," said Udaan. "You have avoided asking them as yet, but you have other questions arising from your brother's condition."
Ullsaard was amazed that the others spoke as if Kalmud were not a few paces from them. Perhaps, he wondered, the prince's sickness had rendered Kalmud deaf.
"I did not think to raise my questions until Erlaan had returned, since they concern him also," said Aalun.
"Just say it," rasped Lutaar. "What is on your mind?"
"The succession. Kalmud is unfit to become king and you should name me as heir."
Ullsaard drew in his breath. He studied Aalun's face, but saw no apprehension there.
"No," the king replied. "While Kalmud still lives, the succession does not change."
"The eldest surviving son is heir," said Udaan. "The Book of Askhos is clear on this. There are no exceptions."
"It is too much of a burden for one made so frail," said Aalun, looking with pity at Kalmud. His face hardened as he returned his gaze to his father. "While it is the wish of all your subjects that you live forever, such is not possible. You are almost as old as Cosuas, and though strong of will and thought, your body grows weaker. If you should die while Kalmud is still heir, it could be disastrous for the empire."
"When I die, Kalmud will become king if he outlives me. If not, Erlaan will inherit. This is how it has always been and always will be."
"Erlaan is barely an adult, no more fit to wear the Crown than his father currently is."
Lutaar was about to say something when Kalmud stirred. He coughed harshly for a few moments, gauze held to his mouth. As he brought it away there were flecks of blood on the material.
"You have something to say on the matter, my son?"
"I feel no better and no worse than when I was brought here." Kalmud's voice was quiet, wavering, but his eyes had regained some of the strength Ullsaard had seen in them during previous encounters. "With the Brotherhood to aid me through my times of weakness, I can still rule Askhor."
"That settles the matter," said Udaan. "Your brother himself claims fit to rule."
"It matters not," snapped the king. He lifted his hand to quell Aalun's protest and continued in a calmer voice. "The succession stays as laid down in the Book of Askhos. To break from that now would invite disaster in generations to come. The Book of Askhos does not give us advice, does not give us guidelines. Its rules are absolute and must be followed as such."
Lutaar stood and stroked Kalmud's forehead. He paced in front of the throne, stooped and weary, and laid a hand on Aalun's shoulder.
"I know that you do not say this out of malice for me or your brother, and I do not deny you out of malice either. There can be no contention over the succession. If we were to equivocate, then we open the door for further exception. It matters not who wears the Crown, other than that he be the legal heir of the Blood. That is the rule. It matters not his merit or standing, his physical condition or his personality. There can be no other claim to the Crown other than that laid down by Askhos, for it means that there is no ambition from others to claim it for themselves. It matters not what you think, for the Crown will accept no other than the rightful heir."
"What do you mean?" asked Aalun. "The Crown is a symbol, it does not have a say in this."
Lutaar hesitated, again glancing toward Udaan.
"It is more than a symbol, it is the embodiment of Askhos. It carries his wisdom and his strength. What does the Book tell us? 'He who wears it will be without weakness.' Trust in the Blood, trust in the Crown. For two hundred years we have prevailed over our foes, and that will not change when your brother becomes king."
"I understand," said Aalun, though his eyes confessed a different opinion. The prince stood, kissed his father's hand and turned away. He gestured for Ullsaard to follow.
"By yo
ur leave, Majesty," said the general. Lutaar smiled and nodded.
"Spend some time with your family," said the king. "Whether it be to Mekha or the Greenwater, I will not send you on your way too soon."
"Thank you. You are considerate as well as wise; a true inheritor of Askhos' legacy."
