The Crown of the Conqueror (50 page)

  "For the moment," said the nobleman. He turned to Allenya and laughed nervously. "The guards did not know who we were. They were after us for leaving the cart blocking a passageway. They thought I had stolen it."

  "What did you do?" asked Meliu, slipping an arm across Noran's back to help him stand.

  "You owe Laasinia a couple of Askharins," said Noran. "A lie and some coin eased their concerns."

  "We should move away from the city," said Luurhan.

  "I think the excitement has got to…" Noran's voice was a croaking whisper.

  Allenya turned to see the noble crumpling to the ground, slipping out of Meliu's grasp. Meliu crouched over him, a cheek to his mouth, hand on his chest.

  "He is still breathing," she said, looking desperately between Allenya and Laasinia, tears forming. "Is he going to be all right?"

 

Crouched over Noran, Ullsaard thought he saw his friend's eyelids flicker. Lakhyri stood behind him, arms crossed, watching Noran intently, probably more fearful for his own life than the nobleman's. Askhos had drifted away, literally; he had professed a lack of interest and faded from view like fog in a strengthening wind.

  There was another twitch in Noran and Ullsaard looked over his shoulder.

  "Is that good or bad?" the king asked. Lakhyri gave no response. "You don't know?"

  "You should," replied the priest. "Your energies and his are connected. Do you feel nothing?"

  Ullsaard concentrated but was unaware of any change in himself or his friend.

  "Nothing," he said. "What should I feel?"

  "I do not know," admitted Lakhyri. "My only experience is the sensation of gaining power through this world, not relinquishing it. Perhaps it is good that you are unaware of it."

  "Perhaps?" Ullsaard stood and rounded on the high priest. Lakhyri backed away a step, one had held up. "You have been guessing all along, haven't you?"

  "I knew that what I proposed was possible," said Lakhyri. "I warned you that there were risks."

  Ullsaard's next words never reached his lips; Noran gave a ragged exhalation. Ullsaard saw his eyes flutter open and slowly focus. He stooped to help his friend sit up.

  "What has happened?" asked the king. Lakhyri crouched and laid a hand upon Noran's forehead. "Allenya, is she all right?"

  Noran smiled weakly.

  "She is with your man," he said. "They will be with you soon, I am sure."

  "What of you? What happened?"

  Pulling on Ullsaard's arm, Noran came to his feet and wobbled unsteadily for a moment.

  "My body is still very weak," he said. "I held on for as long as I could, to make sure they were safe. I could not fight back any more."

  "What does that mean?" Ullsaard said to Lakhyri.

  The priest pushed the two men apart a little way and held a hand to the chest of each. He closed his eyes and runes smouldered in his flesh.

  "The link is sustained," declared the priest, opening his eyes and folding his arms. "It is only Noran's physical weakness that sends him here."

  Ullsaard noticed Lakhyri stopped himself suddenly, as if he was about to say something else.

  "What is it?" the king demanded.

  Lakhyri's eyes switched back and forth between the two of them as he replied.

  "Your energy, Ullsaard, is sustaining the body of Noran. Without it, he will not recover fully."

  "What does that mean?" said Noran. "That when this is finished, I will slip back into the deathly sleep?"

  Lakhyri nodded.

  "I promised that I could help bring your wives and friend to safety," said the priest, addressing himself to Ullsaard with a sombre expression. "Even this small endeavour will have its cost."

  "But it could be sustained?" said Ullsaard.

  "No!" said Noran, stepping in front of Lakhyri to stop him answering. "I do not understand exactly what is going on, but I get the idea. You have done enough, Ullsaard. Do not concern yourself with me."

  "That's for you to decide, is it?" said Ullsaard. He looked past his friend. "Is it possible? Could you make the link permanent? How does it work, will I have to stay close to him?"

  "Do not talk about me as if I were not here!" snapped Noran. "This is madness. Stop this now."

  Ullsaard ignored his friend's objection and looked at Lakhyri. The priest nodded, as much to himself as the king.

  "The link is established, it need not be severed," he said. "With your strength, Noran will be able to recover some semblance of himself. Distance is of no import in this world, I merely brought you closer to Magilnada so that you would be able to act in the physical world as well as here. I cannot tell you the consequences, save one. You will be living two lives, Ullsaard, or as close as to make no difference, given the meagre energies left with Noran's body."

  "Enough, enough!" said Noran, pushing the priest away. "No more of this, please! I could not rob you of any more than I have already taken."

  "It is not theft if I give it to you," said Ullsaard, grabbing Noran's shoulder. He looked at the priest. "How long?"

  "I cannot say for sure," said Lakhyri. "Half as long as you would have had. You have the Blood, and that grants life beyond normal measure. I would say you have forty more years left to you. That would mean you would both have twenty if you draw from the same well."

  "You are not going to give me twenty years of your life, you just cannot," said Noran.

  "There will be no other physical symptom of your connection," Lakhyri continued. "No loss of strength or wit. The force that gives your existence will simply be used up more quickly. In a sense, we are all inter-connected at a certain level, sustaining and being sustained by each other. The join between you will simply be stronger, and uneven."

  There was pleading in Noran's eyes, but Ullsaard's mind was made up.

  "I cannot condemn you to a half-life," he said. "For my sake, for Meliu's and for everyone else that cares for you, it is better that I do this. Lakhyri, take us back to the real world."

  Noran made fresh protest but already light and sound was becoming faint. The dream subsided, washing away into grey nothingness.

 

A little after noon, the first signs of Ullsaard's army could be seen; pickets on kolubrids moved down through the foothills. Within a mile, columns of legionnaires were on the road, heading hotwards down the valley. Company after company marched past as the two wagons juddered up the rough trail, Allenya and Meliu in the back of one, next to the comatose Noran. Meliu tended to him with a moistened flannel as she patted affectionately at fever soaked clothes.

  "Where do you think they are all going?" Meliu asked, looking at the thousands of legionnaires.

  "Magilnada," replied Allenya.

  While she watched the army marching past, she felt some satisfaction. She had not felt Anglhan's threats in person, but what he had done appalled her in a way she could barely articulate. Above everything, it was the betrayal of Ullsaard that angered her; the governor was ingratitude incarnate. She did not care that he had turned on Askh and its king, but she deeply resented the treachery towards her husband; a man who had given Anglhan every opportunity and considerable power in return for his help. To throw away such gifts was a selfish stupidity that Allenya abhorred, and she hoped that when Anglhan was taken she would be there to see his punishment. Had Anglhan spent the entire time with a knife held at her throat she would have felt less repulsion, but he had not even the courage to openly threaten her family.

  She wanted to see Anglhan bloodied and broken, begging for mercy for what he had done.

  These thoughts of justice gave way to expectation as the tops of pavilions came into view at the head of the pass. Ullsaard was so close now she could feel him, like a presence in her breast beside her quickening heart. There had been times she had hated him, staring out of her window at the winter skies wondering why he had deserted her. She had spent hours crying in her bed, cursing herself for marrying a soldier, sobbing at the injustice of being kept apart from a man who was the most powerful in an entire empire. She had wondered if he chose to be away, remembering the manner of their parting and his aversion to her.

  Not now those dark thoughts. Seasons of longing welled up inside, tightening her chest, a flush of heat coursing through her body. She wanted to see him, touch him with her hands, assure herself that he was real.

  Meliu mast have noticed the change, for she reached over Noran and laid her hand upon Allenya's knee.

  "It is fine, sister," she said. "He sent Noran for you so that you could be together."

  Allenya opened her mouth to reply but instead a sob of happiness engulfed her at the thought. Meliu clambered across the rocking cart and hugged her as the tears came again; tears of joy and relief rather than grief.

  It was in each other's arms that the two sisters passed into the camp. Allenya looked up, wondering which was Ullsaard's tent, straining for that first sight of him. Excitement bordered on desperation and she stood up, fighting to keep balance as the wagon bumped over the uneven ground.

  Two of the soldiers ran ahead from the group, heading towards the centre of the camp. Allenya wanted to run with them, but Meliu saw what was going to happen and dragged her back to the boards of the wagon by her skirt.

  "Come now, sister, and remember yourself," she said. "You wear a servant's dress and your hair is in total disarray. The last thing Ullsaard needs to see on top of that is red eyes and tear streaks."

  Allenya allowed Meliu to fuss at her appearance, using her fingers to comb some sense into her hair, and the hem of her skirt to dab the tears from her face. The fluttering acted to calm Allenya, who wiped her nose with the cuff of her dress and took a deep breath, trying to stay calm. Meliu stroked a hand down Allenya's arm and kissed her lightly on the cheek before sitting back.

  "See now?" said Meliu with a laugh. "At least you look like a queen in a commoner's dress, and nothing worse."

  Allenya smiled and patted Meliu's hand in thanks. Feeling a little more herself, she looked again at the camp, trying to judge its size. It was not quite as big as the one she had been in before, but certainly larger than a single legion. She moved to the front of the wagon to talk to the driver.

  "How large is my husband's army?" she asked the man.

  "Three legions, queen," he said.

  It was then she saw the flag of Askhos flying from the pole of a nearby tent. She was on her feet even as the driver brought the abada to a halt; and over the side without waiting for help. She ran through the mud, dress flapping at her legs, and dashed past the startled sentries at the door to the pavilion.

  They lunged after her, but were too slow.

  Inside, she saw Ullsaard standing at a map table, two men in the finery of first captains with him. There was a shout from the guards that alerted all three, who turned just as Allenya reached them. The king's eyes widened in shock a moment before Allenya launched at him, throwing her arms around his neck, her lips seeking his as sure as any hunter's arrow.

  For a heartbeat, Ullsaard was stunned; hot tears washed down Allenya's face again. Then his arms encircled her and she felt her heart would burst at his embrace. He returned the kiss, beard tickling her face, strong arms pulling her so tight for a moment he might crush her. Her hands gripped his hair, not letting him move a fraction as the taste and smell of him washed over her. Her legs buckled and only then did she relinquish her grip, her cheek falling to his chest, hands clasped behind his neck.

  "Hello, wife," he said.

  The sound of his voice started Allenya crying again and she could not speak. She dimly sensed the other men moving away, but her every sense was focussed on the two of them, reunited.

  Suddenly she felt guilty at causing such a scene. She wriggled from his arms, hands stroking the back of his as they parted. Wiping away her tears, she tried to restore some semblance of decency, hands held to her waist.

  "It is good to see you again, husband," she managed to say.

  Confused by her change, Ullsaard blinked rapidly, his eyes moist.

  "And it is good to see you too," he replied uncertainly.

  He took a step, hesitated, and then engulfed her again with his arms, kissing her on the neck and through her hair, over and over. All thought of propriety and appearance washed away and Allenya gripped his shirt in her fists, moving her face so that his kisses fell upon her lips.

  She had no idea how long they spent in this way, and wished for it to last forever. Her hands and eyes explored every part of his face, and she felt a flutter of fear as they encountered bandages across his chest and shoulder, and saw a fresh scar above his right eye.

  "You have been fighting," she said in a scolding tone. His expression of hurt dignity caused her to laugh out loud.

  "I may have been in a few battles," Ullsaard said with a smile. The smile faded and he looked away. "I am so sorry for leaving you. I have been such a poor husband too you."

  "Never say that!" The thought that Ullsaard blamed himself for what Anglhan had done fired her anger. "Never! I would never wish to be married to another man."

  His eyes strayed and widened. Looking around, Allenya saw Meliu poking her head through the door of the tent.

  "I would like to greet my husband, if he would welcome me," she said.

  Ullsaard looked conflicted, happiness and confusion battling in his eyes. After the passing of two heartbeats he grinned and waved for her to enter.

  "Why would I not welcome you?" he said, but Allenya felt the jollity a little forced.