The Crown of the Usurper (The Crown of the Blood)

by Gav Thorpe

  "You left him?" Ullsaard could not quite believe what he had heard. "My orders were specific for a reason. What is to stop Aegenuis making peace with his son and turning against us?"

  "It was an impossible situation, Ullsaard," said Noran, standing by the doorway. Ullsaard turned and the noble flinched under his glare but continued. "I agree with Anasind's choice. There is no point keeping Salphoria if you lose Greater Askhor, is there?"

  As much as it pained him to admit, the two of them had a point. Acknowledging this, he patted Anasind on the shoulder.

  "You did the right thing," said the king, provoking obvious relief from the general. "I knew the risks I was taking by calling you back, and we'll just have to deal with the shit that follows. And if we are lucky, Aegenuis and Medorian will tear each other apart, making it easier for us to regain control when we are done with Urikh."

  "If we are really lucky, Aegenuis will crush Medorian and hold to his word," said Noran. His eyes roved around the room seeking something; something he evidently did not find as he sighed and returned his gaze to Ullsaard. "I left the wine on the roof, otherwise I would offer you proper welcome."

  "Wine can wait," said Ullsaard. He called out for Donar, who slipped through the door past Noran and strode across the room to stand beside Anasind.

  "Are we all acquainted again?" said the first captain. "What next?"

  "Narun will be secured before nightfall, and all proof suggests that Urikh's legions are far to hotwards," said Anasind. "We will have plenty of time to prepare defences for their return."

  "No, I'm not wasting time," said Ullsaard. "The time to strike is upon us and we must hit hard while there are no other distractions. We will take Askh and bring down Urikh, and that serpent Lakhyri too if we can find him. I am out of patience. The Brotherhood will be brought to heel once and for all."

  A worthy goal, I am sure. How do you plan to achieve that?

  There was a mocking tone to Askhos' question, but the point was valid.

  "The majority of the Brotherhood are loyal to the empire, and when we have removed Lakhyri from his perch they shall return their loyalty to me. The Brothers across the empire follow the instructions of their superiors, and so we shall install a High Brother who is aligned to me."

  "I do not think there is a man you could trust with such power, not now," said Noran.

  "What do you intend to do with Urikh?" asked Donar. "I know he is your son, but…"

  Noran is right. You place a great deal on the shoulders of whomever you pick.

  Rubbing his temple, Ullsaard tried to separate the conversation in the room with the commentary in his head. He looked between Donar and Noran and attempted to answer both questions at once.

  "Urikh will be punished, do not think that he will escape retribution, but he is not wholly to blame for this. Without Lakhyri and the Brotherhood he can do little real damage. His mischief will cost him dearly, but it is Lakhyri that we must get rid of."

  Easily said, but more difficult to enact.

  "Lakhyri is not without protection," Noran said, glancing with concern at the two first captains.

  "Such protection does not extended to immunity from a spear," said Ullsaard, tiring of his companions' questions and arguments. "Debate will not resolve this, only action. Anasind, have your men ready by Low Watch tomorrow. We march on Askh without delay."

  TEMPLE

  Terror and chaos reigned. Blood slicked the floor of the main chamber and bodies lay all about the Last Corpse. Asirkhyr looked on in horror as the handful of surviving worshippers continued their struggles, divided in loyalty between the hierophants. Eriekh had called out damning accusation to the followers and some had risen up in his defence; others had come to the aid of Asirkhyr and fighting had broken out. The Temple was devoid of weapons and so both sides had throttled and bludgeoned with hands and feet, bashing each other's heads against walls and floor, breaking bone and choking life with grasping fingers.

  Drawn by the bloodshed, the Eulanui had gathered, their presence pouring from the Last Corpse like oily smoke, coalescing above the mayhem, feeding on the life-force of the dying and the dead. Asirkhyr watched now as the last few men slipped in the crimson puddles, grappling and snarling, spurred on by a vehemence possessed only by the truly faithful.

  The Last Corpse was swelling with power, soaking in the blood that trickled against its base, its aura darkening the room so that the hierophant could only dimly see the thrashing, flailing limbs of the Eulanui as they absorbed the meat and bones of the fallen. The shadows were deepening with every passing moment, substance given to the insubstantial.

  Eriekh lay at Asirkhyr's feet, his face a ragged mess, his blood smeared over flagstone and brick. That blood stained Asirkhyr's arms up to the elbow and he still trembled with the primal, feral joy of smashing his enemy's head against the floor with his bare hands. He had never been a violent man, but the whispers of the Eulanui had urged him on, fuelling blow after blow. Now horrified calm gripped the hierophant as he backed away from the carnage, turning towards the passageway that led to the lower levels where he would be able to displace himself into the Grand Precincts of Askh.

  Something gripped his ankle and he turned to find Eriekh still lived, bony fingers wrapped about Asirkhyr's leg. Hatefilled eyes stared up at him from the ruin of the hierophant's face, and bloodied lips peeled back to reveal crimson-flecked teeth.

  "You have doomed us." Eriekh's words were barely more than a whisper, but his grasp was tight with insane strength as Asirkhyr tried to free his ankle. "You have brought the masters' wrath down upon us."

  Asirkhyr kicked out, driving the heel of his foot into Eriekh's face. Twice more he stamped on the hierophant's head and Eriekh's grip grew limp.

  Looking across the chamber, Asirkhyr realised that Eriekh had delayed him long enough. The Eulanui had finished feasting on the others and circled above, skittering and clambering over the ceiling and walls, clusters of tenebrous tentacles gathering around him. A strand of darkness extended down from the ceiling and touched upon his shoulder, almost loving in its gentle caress. Pleasant numbness flowed through Asirkhyr's body and all thought of resistance fled his mind as more feeder-tendrils latched onto his withered skin.

  His heart beat once more, and then his body collapsed into nothing, every particle of his essence absorbed by the nightmares his folly had brought forth.

  ASKH

  Early summer, 213th year of Askh

  I

  This time there were no legions to bar Ullsaard's path. The captain commanding the garrison on the wall, on being confronted by the true king and five first captains of the legions, had opened the gates without hesitation, and two days' more marching had brought Ullsaard's army within sight of the capital. The last time he had marched on Askh with intent for battle he had been forced to kill one of his oldest friends; the prospect that he might have to dispense the same fate to Urikh filled him with a grim mood.

  Nearly thirty thousand strong, the column stretched for several miles along the road. Icons of Askhos glinted at the head of each legion when the sun broke from the scattered cloud, and helmet crests fluttered in the strengthening wind. The tramp of the legionnaires marching in step reverberated across the countryside, giving warning to the farmsteads and trade posts dotted along the road that the rightful king had returned.

  Some folk came from their homes, shouting cheers of encouragement and praises to Ullsaard, but most stayed indoors, peering fearfully from windows and doorways as rank after rank after rank of soldiers marched past. Rumour of turmoil had been rife for a long time, and the arrival of the army increased worry rather than set minds at rest. Here in the heartland of the empire, Urikh's tyranny had been wellmasked. Answering directly to the king, the people knew little of the banishment of the governors, and cared even less.

  "I see accusation in their eyes," remarked Ullsaard as he strode past a small group of farm houses, a man and two women watching the progress of the legionnaires f
rom the shadow of a barn. Behind them clustered a trio of children, all of them too young to properly remember the last time Ullsaard had come to Askhor with an army.

  "It will take longer to repair the damage wrought by Urikh than it did for him to inflict it," replied Noran. "Askh was once a bastion of civilisation and peace and you have overturned that. Memories are short-lived concerning the bounties of Salphoria that flowed into these lands, but will long remain of you bringing hungry soldiers."

  Salphoria was still a sore issue with the king and he said nothing, though he looked to Anasind not far ahead with his command staff. Ullsaard knew that he had unfinished business with Aegenuis, and though he did not hold the general at fault for his decision, he would have preferred that the Salphorian leader had remained under close watch.

  "I know that you are reluctant to discuss the matter, but have you considered what you will do with Urikh?" Noran asked. The herald had become more obviously distressed as they came closer to the city, his nerves bringing his talkative nature to the fore. "He is still the heir of the Blood, regardless of what he has done. And princes of the Blood are thin on the ground these days."

  Ullsaard grimaced, reminded of Jutaar's death. Thoughts of succession were far from his mind and in his irritation he snapped back at Noran.

  "Perhaps you should give more thought to your own affairs before delving into mine. What is your intent towards Meliu?"

  This time it was Noran's turn to make a sour face, reminded of matters he had been avoiding.

  "Well?" said Ullsaard. "When I have the Crown again, do I dissolve her position as my wife and release her to you?"

  "I am divided on the subject," Noran admitted. "Meliu would make a fine wife and I have deep affection for her, but we lay together in a moment of passion and I do not know if I would be the husband she desires. Also, I am still wed to Anriit. There are complications."

  It was clear to Ullsaard that Noran had concerns he had not voiced and the king was in no mood to accommodate the noble's half-truths.

  "It's not like you to worry yourself over the legal niceties of marriage. The fact that you fucked my wife proves that. Take her as your mistress if you want."

  "If it were that simple," Noran said with a sigh.

  "By nightfall I plan to be at the palace, you need to make up your mind quickly. When Urikh is in our custody and Lakhyri slain, I will have to head to Salphoria again, to settle matters with Aegenuis and reinforce our rule there. I am not staying around for you to make up your mind. Meliu is devoted to you as she once was to me, and she is both forthcoming in her affections and beautiful. What more could you want?"

  "A lover that did not once share the bed of my best friend?" Noran said, the words quiet and thoughtful. "A lover that will not remind me of yet another thing I have taken from you in my selfishness?"

  Noran's confession would have made Ullsaard laugh in better circumstances, but the king was aware that his friend's conflicted thoughts were in part caused by him. Before Ullsaard could reply, Noran continued.

  "I had found happiness with Neerita, and she was to bear me a son, but that was not to be. It occurs to me that you seek to give me one wife in exchange for the one I lost to your friendship."

  With a growl, Ullsaard grabbed the sleeve of Noran's tunic and dragged him from the road to stand beside a low wall. The following company of legionnaires glanced at their king as they marched past, but the shouts of their captains returned their attention ahead.

  "You still blame me for Neerita's death?" snarled the king. "Is that why you fucked Meliu? To take from me what you thought I took from you?"

  "If it was as simple, I would be glad," said Noran, dejected. He pulled himself from Ullsaard's grasp. "I once had a life of my own; a loving wife, estates, wealth and happiness. Now I am dependent upon you for the smallest kindness. That is not friendship, it is servitude. If you were not king, what would you have to offer me? And if you were not king, I am not sure I would follow you."

  Noran's words were like a punch in the gut, knotting up Ullsaard's stomach and causing him to take a sharp breath. He fought against the urge to lash out, to strike his friend for such disloyalty. Clenching his fists, the king instead turned away.

  "I have never demanded anything of you," he said, causing Noran to laugh.

  "Not in word, but by expectation. Why, only this spring you cajoled me into travelling all the way to Ersua for you, putting myself in danger for the purpose of deceiving Urikh. Did you once consider the hazards I would face? If my tongue and wit had failed me, I would be made prisoner by the Brotherhood, or worse. I delivered your message and misled Leraates, and for what? Have I had any thanks or reward for it? As a friend you are ungrateful, and as a king you have nothing to offer but empty promises."

  "When I regain the Crown, you can have any rewards that you desire," said Ullsaard turning back to his companion. "One of my wives is yours, if you desire her. Wealth? I will empty the coffers of the empire for you. Position? The empire stands with no governors, or perhaps you would prefer the rule of a Salphorian province? Do not question my generosity. To be an ally of the king is no small thing. Perhaps it is you that is fucking ungrateful."

  "Fuck you, Ullsaard," Noran said through gritted teeth, face flushing with anger. "You take everything and give nothing. You are a conqueror in heart as well as deed. You wish to possess everything for yourself, and all others exist to serve that ambition. At least Urikh is honest about his ambition, and his threats were openly made. Even now my family stands in danger, and you would have me lay them to sacrifice for your benefit. Do you know how easy it would have been to become his man? All the things you promise me were his to grant as well."

  "You are wrong," said Ullsaard, stung by the herald's words. "I have stayed true to those closest to me."

  "You betrayed Aalun and killed Cosua. You dealt with a toad like Anglhan at my expense and against my judgement. You gave Urikh power and money, and were bought off by Lakhyri's promises of loyalty. That has turned out so well for you."

  "Then why the fuck do you stay?" asked Ullsaard, slumping against the wall, his anger becoming sadness as the truth of Noran's accusations settled in his thoughts. Amongst the turmoil in his mind, the king was reminded that it was he that had made Jutaar first captain, promoting him beyond his measure when blinded by the desire to see his son succeed. He swallowed hard, grief threatening to take him. "Why didn't you turn on me and serve Urikh?"

  "Because I have seen what power Lakhyri truly serves, and through him they are Urikh's masters also. You are an unmitigated whore's cunt sometimes, Ullsaard, but you have always been your own man. The thing that I saw in the palace had a hunger that I cannot explain. I felt its power and its desire. It was… inhuman. You will grow old and die and pass on your rule to another, as was meant to be. Askhos, these strange creatures that placed him and Lakhyri above us all, they cannot be allowed to control the empire."

  Ullsaard considered these words carefully, convinced by the bitter words of Noran that his insights were deeply felt and the opinion voiced based on true conviction. If what the herald said was true, Urikh was not the greatest of the king's concerns.

  "A handful of years ago, I would have thought you a fucking madman," said Ullsaard. "Now I have a dead king living in my head, I have travelled through dreams to wake you from a deathly sleep and given to you half of my life-force. I have seen in Erlaan the nature of the powers Lakhyri entreats. This is not the world of men as we once knew it, but you must trust me. I will give every drop of my blood to keep the empire safe, whether from Urikh or darker powers."

  The king reached out a hand. Noran looked at it, his gaze moving between Ullsaard's outstretched palm and his determined stare. The herald shook his head slightly and Ullsaard thought that his friend would walk away.

  "You are a fucking arrogant, bullying arsehole of a man, Ullsaard," said Noran, gripping the king's wrist as Ullsaard's fingers tightened around the arm of the herald. "But at least you are
a man."

  Still grasping his friend's wrist, Ullsaard looked to dawnwards and the pale smudge of Askhos on its distant hilltop.

  "Did I tell you how I single-handedly killed a behemodon?" the king said with a lopsided smile. "I don't care where they're from, these shadowy cunts have got more coming for them than they bargained on. I'll make them wish they'd never set eyes on my fucking empire."

  II

  The news that an army approached, possibly led by King Ullsaard, had started panic in the palace. Like a parchment touched by fire, the fear was spreading to the rest of the city. The gates had been closed and companies from the First and the Brotherhood's legion were stationed across Askh, enforcing a curfew decreed by Urikh. In the palace, soldiers guarded every doorway, and the servants scurried about their business with fearful glances at the black-crested legionnaires patrolling the corridors and hallways.