The Crown of the Conqueror (59 page)

  Looking back at the soldiers clustered behind him, Ullsaard saw shadowed eyes and haggard faces. They had marched and fought for nearly two thousand miles. Soon the rain would become snow, and the road treacherous with ice. He certainly couldn't starve out the Salphors over the winter.

  "You have my word," he called out. "With the brave men of the Thirteenth as my witnesses, I swear that there will be no violence unless provoked by you."

  Again the Salphors huddled together in discussion. Evidently they agreed to the terms. More men hurried to the bridge contraption. They heaved on ropes and laboured at wheels, swinging the mass of wood around to the gap in the road. Rain drummed on timbers as the bridge extended, heavily hinged sections straightening across the gorge. Ullsaard and the foremost legionnaires were forced to retreat a short distance as the bridge thumped down.

  "Wait here," he told his soldiers. "If these bastards kill me, slaughter the lot of them."

  There were savage growls of assent from those close by.

  Aegenuis walked to the middle of the bridge and waited. Taking a breath, Ullsaard set out. He was taking a considerable risk, he realised. The Salphors could probably raise the bridge before two dozen men had got onto the span. He stopped a few paces onto the thick boards, wondering whether it might not be better to dismiss any deal and take the city by force. He scrutinised Aegenuis as best he could, but could see little of the man's face behind the silver visage of a wolf.

  "Fuck it," the king muttered. "If you're dead, you're not going to care what happens next."

  He strode across the bridge with more confidence, stopping just in front of Aegenuis. The other king was a little shorter, and nowhere near as broad. The scabbard at his hip was empty and Ullsaard saw no knife in his belt.

  "I am unarmed," said the Salphor.

  "Nice hat," said Ullsaard, nodding towards Aegenuis's helm.

  "It will be yours soon," said the Salphorian king.

  Ullsaard shook his head and extended his hand.

  "I think not," said the Askhan. "I have enough troubles with the crown I've already got."

  Ullsaard bit back a laugh as he saw bemusement in the eyes of the other man. Aegenuis grabbed Ullsaard's forearm and squeezed tight, the king of Greater Askhor returning the gesture. They parted and Ullsaard turned around and raised his fist, eliciting a cheer from the legionnaires that could see him. The Salphors were understandably less jubilant.

  "I think I still have some of your wine somewhere," said Aegenuis, putting his hand on Ullsaard's shoulder as the king turned back from his soldiers. "We should share it."

  "How did you get my wine?"

  Aegenuis laughed and slapped Ullsaard on the back.

  "I'll tell you on the way to Carantathi," he replied.

 

With a smile, Ullsaard drained the last of the wine from the cup and placed it on the table beside the bed. He stripped off his armour and flopped on the woollen bed covers in kilt and jerkin and boots, exhausted. He listened to the clink and pad of the legionnaires on the other side of the chamber door and closed his eyes.

  He had deigned to allow Aegenuis to stay in the king's hall; some unfortunate chieftain had been turfed from his house to make way for Ullsaard and his officers. Billets had been found for the Thirteenth in the city, which was half-empty. Aegenuis had bluffed well; less than two thousand warriors protected Carantathi, nowhere near enough to defend against Ullsaard's army. The rest of the Askhan army was returning to camp at the base of the mountain.

  He did not begrudge Aegenuis the peaceful resolution he had wanted. Over the course of a somewhat frugal banquet, Ullsaard had come to the conclusion that he liked the Salphorian king, though not enough to let him stay king, he had pointed out.

  Tomorrow Aegenuis would formally hand over power to Ullsaard. It was not the end of the Salphorian campaign, the king knew, but it was the start of the next stage of conquest. Ullsaard thought he would feel triumphant at this moment, but from the swirl of emotions going through him, it was relief that felt strongest. Once again his vision had been vindicated. Perhaps even more than when he had wrested the Crown from Lutaar, he had many times wondered whether he would be victorious.

  Feeling sleep tugging at his eyelids, he divested himself of his boots and kilt, flinging them to the bare wooden floor. Certainly Carantathi could benefit from a few Askhan improvements, such as carpets and baths. All of that would come in time.

  He listened to the rain drumming on the roof and walls and rolled to his side. Allenya was in Askh, three thousand miles away or more. He wondered what she was doing. Probably sleeping as well. He would have to spend the winter in Salphoria, establishing his rule, sizing up which chieftains could stay and which would have to be killed. Come the spring, he would return to Askh, leaving Salphoria to Aegenuis, Anasind and others.

  It was a pleasing thought that carried him to the cusp of sleep.

  Ullsaard sat up sharply, hand clasped to his temples as agony flared through his mind. A howl of pain was wrenched from him as he twisted and fell to the floor, daggers piercing his thoughts. He did not see or hear the door slamming open as a pair of legionnaires rushed in. He felt nothing but burning, a flame that consumed his brain, seared his eyes and scorched through his Blood.

  While his body writhed in torment, in his mind he was carried up, up through the roof, into the clouds and beyond, spreading out beneath the stars. Like a rushing of a gale within him, he felt himself being torn apart, scattering through the air.

  A thunderous clamour deafened him as he speared across the sky, the sun rising ahead, its first rays touching upon the walls and domes of Askh. His being funnelled down, swirling like a tornado, rushing faster and faster, drawn towards the palace on the Hill of Kings.

  For a moment he saw a flash of a person and fell into the man's eyes, sharing his body for an instant, feeling something that froze his heart, even as his mind exploded again.

  With another feral shriek, he surfaced from the fit, panting and wild-eyed. A legionnaire bent over Ullsaard, eyes fearful,

  "King, what is wrong?" asked the soldier.

  Ullsaard replied without thought, telling the man what he had seen in his vision, even as the throbbing pain in his head pounded.

  "Urikh… Urikh has put on the Crown of the Blood."

 

 

 

The lands known collectively as Salphoria have been home to many peoples and cultures from before the founding of the Askhan empire. It is a large area with a widely dispersed population, bound together only by ancient ancestry and the common foe of Askh. In this appendix, we look at some of the traditions and organisation of the Salphors and their loose nation.

 

The Salphors are not a single people, but comprise many different tribes and tribal conglomerates that have mingled over the centuries. The majority of Salphorian settlements are located along its long rivers, on the outskirts of its dense forests and amongst the foothills of the mountain ranges. Most tribes are located within a single town or village, though some have spread further and may be found living in neighbouring settlements; a few are widespread, having been dispersed across Salphoria by migrations in times past due to famine, drought or war.

  The tribe is the basic block of society, an extended family drawing descent from shared ancestors that can number several thousand folk. Each tribe has its unique traditions, and often its own dialect and folklore. Intermarriage between tribes is quite common, as is the kidnapping of womenfolk from rival tribes, so the exact familial boundaries between tribes is often indistinct.

  Several tribes make up each of the Salphorian peoples. The peoples are spread over a much larger geographic area and share common language, coinage and beliefs. Many started out as alliances in the distant past but the cultural identity of a people has grown out of the disparate customs of the founders, creating an identifiable society. A Salphor thinks of himself as one of a people first, his tribe being a subdivision of their identity.

  There is a linked but separate group of Salphors known collectively as Hillmen, living for the most part in the Ersuan Hills. They live apart from the rest of Salphorian society, surviving on brigandage for the most part. Considered savage and backwards by any self-respecting Salphor, the Hillmen are not counted as a people in their own right, but simply a ragtag mass of renegades and descendants of barbarians.

 

Each tribe is ruled over by a chieftain and his family. The position is traditionally hereditary through the male line, but such is the nature of tribal life a chieftain or would-be heir that does not have the support of the tribespeople will find it very difficult to maintain control.

  The chieftain oversees all matters of local law and presides over weddings, funerals and other ceremonies. He is the warleader of the tribe, and will often be the most accomplished fighter. His chosen band will have the best equipment and be made up of the most able warriors, acting as militia to enforce the chieftain's rule. Sons and brothers typically form the council of the chieftain, along with any other elders who have proven themselves sufficiently wise or favoured. Patronage is the general rule, as the chieftain is ultimately responsible for settling land claims, marriage or inheritance disputes and other disagreements. It is a brave Salphor who risks the displeasure of his chieftain, and those who do not earn his favour will be shunned until they make appropriate gifts or leave in self-exile.

  Amongst the chieftains of a people, rank is determined by a fluid hierarchy of personal ability, old debts and the power of his tribe. The chieftain's council of each people meets irregularly to discuss important issues and resolve inter-tribal disputes, but it is a temporary organisation. In times of war or hardship, a chieftain may call upon his fellow council members for warriors or aid, and the council will decide whether the people will act or not. As with tribal politics, there is little loyalty between the chieftains despite oaths sworn and gifts exchanged. Just as a tribesperson that angers a chieftain is isolated, a chieftain that continually acts against the council's wishes or does not support the council's decisions will find his tribe treated as pariahs.

  The most senior and well-respected chieftains of a people, usually no more than half-a-dozen, form an inner circle to act as representatives to the king. In this role they represent the people as whole – in theory, at least.

  The Salphors are ruled over by their king. For many decades, he has been the chieftain of Carantathi, by far the largest settlement in Salphoria; though the city has been conquered several times and the line of kings changed. It is a precarious position to be king, imparting great power to call on the peoples of Salphoria but always responsible to the chieftain councils. More than one king has found his support taken away, to be usurped by a more favoured chieftain.

  The king is responsible for the most important decisions of tradition in law, presiding over disagreements between peoples, mustering armies from many tribes and responding to unexpected disaster such as pestilence or invasion. As is typical of the contrary nature of the Salphors, a king may be roundly despised by all of his subjects and yet remain in power if he deals suitably with the demands of the chieftain councils.

 

One of the biggest causes of inter-tribe strife used to be the matter of unpaid debts, blood money owed from violent clashes and the under-payment of dowries. So great did the problem become, a new Salphoria-wide law was passed to govern the making and settling of debts.

  A Salphor who reneges on a debt becomes a marked man (and in this case a debt may be not just monetary, but also a lack of service to his chieftain, refusing to take up arms when needed, or even failure to make proper contributions to the local shrines). His debt is recorded on a tin debt token and until it is paid off, he is less than a person, considered the property of whoever owns the debt token.

  The emergence of debt tokens led to the rise in debt guardians; merchants who traded solely in debt to gather bodies of men to work their mines, fields, orchards and caravans. Debt guardians despise the term "slave" for their debtors as it implies that their charges work for free. On the contrary, a debtor accrues wages throughout his service, until he has paid off the amount owed to have his debt token melted down. As with other commodities, debt tokens have a face value but quite often their true worth may be more or less than this amount, depending on how many debtors are in a region or other circumstance. Amongst some merchants, debt tokens are treated as a second tier of coinage, and ownership of a debtor might change hand several times before he is actually able to start to work of what he owes.