The Crown of the Usurper (2 page)

  "And where does a king without a kingdom sit?" asked Aegenuis. "By the firepit?"

  "Here," said Ullsaard, rapping his fist on the table in front of the chair to his right.

  Aghali said something else, and Aegenuis translated the old chieftain's protest.

  "That seat is for the king's heir. It should remain empty."

  Mention of his heir set Ullsaard's nerves on edge. He kept his demeanour calm on the outside, even as the questions that plagued him returned.

  "Sit," said Ullsaard, slapping a hand on the table. "My heir is all the way back in Okhar, running the province for me; seems a waste to let a chair go empty on his account."

  Aegenuis nodded and sat down. He reached across the table and pulled a goblet over the wooden planks. Wine spilled onto the table.

  "Drinking early?" said Ullsaard, plunging a knife into the thickly cut slice of venison on his plate. He sawed away, glancing at Aegenuis out of the corner of his eye. "Never had the stomach for drink before Noonwatch."

  "I have just lost a kingdom, I need a little comforting," said Aegenuis. He took a mouthful of wine and drank it ostentatiously, smacking his lips. Placing the goblet purposefully on the table, he fixed his stare on Ullsaard.

  "So, my king, what happens now?"

  "Lots of things," replied Ullsaard. "None of that matters for the moment. I am not staying in Carantathi. You will be left in charge."

  Aegenuis' surprise was apparent as he sat back in on the bench, eyes widening.

  "Don't get carried away, it is only for the time being," Ullsaard continued. "Salphoria is too big to be one province, but until I can find some governors and build some proper provincial capitals I need someone to be in charge, and that's you."

  "What makes you think I want to be?"

  "The fact that you murdered your own father to be king gives me an idea that you like being the top dog," Ullsaard said with a cold smile. "I killed my father too, you know. We have more than that in common. You know that there will be resistance, there always is. You know also how to persuade most of your people not to fight against me, but to accept their new future."

  "My reputation is worth less than a piss in a pot these days," said Aegenuis. "If I work for you, there are some that will think I am a traitor."

  "They can think what they fucking well like," snapped Ullsaard, quickly tiring of the Salphor's objections. To the Askhan king it made sense for all of the right reasons and was a done deal. Aegenuis knew this too and was being awkward for the sake of being awkward. "You'll be working with my general, Anasind. Believe me, we have a lot of practise at this sort of thing in Askh, and it will be painful at first but the people will settle down. Your son, and any other headstrong chieftains, need to be dealt with swiftly."

  "I know you think I must agree to this, but what if I refuse?"

  "You can get the fuck out of my hall, for a start," said Ullsaard. "You don't have a choice. If it's not you, I can't trust anyone else. My first captains will be a lot more brutal than your words. You may be an arsehole, Aegenuis, but I know you wouldn't wish that on your people."

  "And why such a speedy departure?" asked Aegenuis. "You have been in Carantathi less than a day."

  "Other things to do, better things," said Ullsaard. He needed to get back to Askh to find out what Urikh was up to, but he could not tell anybody that all might not be well in Askhor. If the Salphorians caught even the slightest whiff of weakness in the Askhans they would rise up. Aegenuis was no different. He knew he was being bought off and if he had the chance to play the part of glorious liberator he might just seize it, rather than drift through his final years in peace, safe but lonely and despised by his people.

  "Better things than establishing control of your new territories?" Aegenuis looked curious rather than suspicious, but it was impossible to tell if the Salphor suspected any deeper motivation behind Ullsaard's unwillingness to stay.

  "I'm a conqueror, not an administrator," Ullsaard replied with a smile and a shrug. "I've got places to go, people to kill; those bastard Mekhani, for a start. I've definitely got unfinished business with them."

  "So you'll be withdrawing some of your legions from Salphoria?" said Aegenuis. His expression was of innocent inquiry, but Ullsaard knew better.

  "Mother of a bitch, you are a sharp one, aren't you?" exclaimed the Askhan king. "Don't get any stupid ideas. The legions are here for a good while yet. When I need them for other duties, I'll let you know."

  Ullsaard dropped his knife and spoon onto the plate and stood up. He waited patiently, finger tapping lightly at his belt buckle, until Aegenuis realised his was meant to do the same, by way of obedience to his new king. With an apologetic nod, the Salphorian got to his feet and waved for his counsellors to do likewise.

  "Thank you," said Ullsaard. "I'll see you again before I leave. And expect a visit from Anasind too."

  The King of Greater Askhor left the hall by the main doors, squinting as he was met by bright sun, low on the horizon. Two ranks of legionnaires were standing guard along the steps outside. They raised their spears in salute to their king as he walked quickly down the wooden stairs to the rutted road that wound down the mountain through Carantathi.

  From the road Ullsaard could see the cause of the early morning banging. Legionnaires from his army were busy on the wall of the city, reinforcing the towers with blocks taken from several houses demolished near the gateway. They had been in Carantathi less than a day and already his Askhans were treating it like home. Wooden scaffolding encased the gatehouse and five massive tree trunks had been dragged into the square behind, where axemen, sawmen and carpenters were setting to work creating planks for an inner gate.

  Ullsaard turned to his left and looked hotwards, along the range of the mountains. He took a breath of cold air tinged with dung and smoke. The peaks stretched away into the distance, becoming paler and more insubstantial until they were swathed by mist and cloud altogether. It was a harsh land, but had some of the majesty of Askh. To dawnwards he could look down across the plains and forests and hills of Salphoria, his view extended by many miles by the altitude. All of these were his domains now – in name, at least.

  The hall and surrounding houses blocked the view to duskwards; the unconquered lands that lay beyond the mountains were as much a mystery to the Salphors as they were to the Askhans. Ullsaard longed to find a vantage point from which he could see what lay that way, but that would have to wait for the moment. For reasons not of his making he was forced to look back to dawnwards, to the palaces of Askh. It felt like a kick in the gut, to have come so far and achieved so much, only for his son's stupidity to draw him the thousands of miles back to the empire's capital.

  Hooking his thumbs into his belt, he collected his thoughts. The conversation with Aegenuis had left him with some doubts. In truth, it was too early to leave Carantathi, as much as Ullsaard had faith in Anasind and trusted that Aegenuis' self-interest would prevail. The hasty departure would raise questions, no matter what excuses Ullsaard gave. It occurred to him that if he could stay for just a few days his departure would not raise as much comment.

  He wondered if he was over-reacting. In the cold light of day it seemed more and more likely that the tale of a dream he had spun for his guards might be the truth. Had it been a convincing dream, brought about by fatigue and a deeper fear of his son's ambition?

  It could be foolishness to race back to Askh, preparing for a confrontation that existed only in his mind. The more Ullsaard thought about it, the more he considered the whole episode to be fantastical. Urikh was not stupid enough to make a bid for the Crown at the moment, no matter how much he disliked Ullsaard and how hungry he was for power. His son had no base for such a claim, in terms of legions or other resources.

  It was too quick to make sense. Urikh could not even know whether Salphoria had been secured or not. More than three thousand miles separated father from son, the only tenuous connection between them was the Crown itself. Urikh could put it on his head as much as he liked, it would not make him king in anything but his daydreams.

  Ullsaard felt his knees weaken and he stumbled back towards the steps, the voice of Askhos ringing loudly in his head. The dead king's presence felt stronger than before, his voice somehow closer. It took a little time to recover from the shock of feeling Askhos inside his mind after so long enjoying the silence.

  "How do you know?" Ullsaard hardly moved his lips as he spoke, his voice a whisper. He had never been able to just think his words to Askhos; with two voices in his head it became confusing. "Do you see anything? Are you in Urikh too?"

  Something struck Ullsaard, an unsettling feeling that rose up from the pit of his gut to make his chest clench tight with concern.

  "How is it that I can hear you, when we are so far from the Crown? What has Urikh done?"

  "What does that mean?" Ullsaard's legs felt weaker and weaker, and he sat down on the bottom step in front of the long hall. He was talking out loud, but did not care. "What do you mean you are no longer in the Crown?"

  Ullsaard tried to absorb this despite the ache that was pulsing up and down from the base of his skull to the top of his head.

  "Is it possible that Urikh, somehow, learnt of the Crown's power, and managed to drive you from it?"

  "Lakhyri," muttered Ullsaard, as if the word was the vilest curse ever devised by man.

 

With golden eyes, the high priest of the Eulanui looked at his latest puppet ruler sitting on the Askhan throne, the Crown of the Blood perched uncomfortably on Urikh's head. The Crown was unimportant now, just a symbol and nothing more. Lakhyri had reversed the rites that had placed the spirit of his brother Askhos into the iron and gold, rendering the Crown inert. It meant nothing to Lakhyri that he had set his brother's spirit adrift from its anchor; Askhos had not only failed to deliver the empire the Eulanui desired, Lakhyri was beginning to suspect that his brother had secretly reneged on the deal that had granted him virtual immortality.

  The rare blunders, the mistake with Cosuas that had allowed a pregnant court whore to give birth to Ullsaard, and the slowing of the empire's expansion pointed to either growing sloppiness on the part of Askhos, or a desire to forestall the inevitable day when he would have to hand over his dominions to his true masters.

  That day was now fast approaching and Lakhyri could not afford to suffer any more delays. He had laughed at how easy it had been to manoeuvre the other pieces into position. First Ullsaard, then the true heir Erlaan, and now bringing forth his secret piece in the game, Urikh, each had gone through the motions of rulership, but soon it would be time for the pretence to end. The Eulanui would return, and Lakhyri would be their regent on this world, for time eternal.

  Parchment-like skin etched with scars and faded tattoos creased as Lakhyri allowed himself a slight smile; an almost unheard-of indulgence for the high priest.

  "You sent for me, King Urikh?" asked Lakhyri. He bobbed his head a fraction in mimicry of a bow, but nothing more.

  "You are sure that my father is aware of what we have done?" asked Urikh. He was dressed in a simple tunic and light kilt, his skinny arms wrapped about by golden torcs and bracelets, his slender fingers now adorned with jewelled rings. He far more resembled his mother in slightness and elegance than he did his father. She, Luia, was sat on a chair beside the throne, like a queen, although to Lakhyri it seemed the son's dedication to his mother had waned immediately he had come to the palace to claim what he saw as his birthright.

  "Though I have removed the curse that had been placed upon the Crown, my king, the act of doing so was immediately made known to Ullsaard. The moment you placed the Crown upon your head, he was aware of what you had done. I expect he is returning to Askh as we speak."

  "And what will he do when he arrives?" demanded Urikh.

  "You know what he will do," answered Luia, before Lakhyri could say the same. It had been centuries since Lakhyri had had any sensation approaching an interest in the female flesh, but there was something about Luia's keen intellect, ruthless attitude and straightforward manner that reminded Lakhyri of his long-dead wife. "He will try to take the Crown from you."

  "As your mother says, so I concur," said Lakhyri. "It is my hope that he underestimates the resistance he will meet here."

  "And the Brotherhood, they spread the word across the empire that my father has been slain. How do we stop rumour of his return from spreading equally fast? If we wish to maintain the fallacy that he has been killed campaigning in Salphoria, it will be no good having him strolling into Askh."

  "Do not fear on that account, my king," said Lakhyri. "Ullsaard is a marked man. He will no sooner approach Askh than a man can touch the moon. The eyes and ears of the Brotherhood seek your father, and I have located just the man to turn the myth of your father's demise into a reality."