"I need some good men inside Asuhas' palace to keep an eye on things. All of you were inside the walls at Magilnada, and I remember the work some of you did for me in Ersua after the city fell. It's dirty, secret work, but you can handle it."
"Begging your pardon, king, but how are we going to get into the palace, like?" asked Gebriun. "Without giving away that we're with you, anyhow."
"Asuhas is still recruiting heavily. Since he lost…" The king stopped, swallowed hard and looked away for a moment. His fists clenched in his lap and he straightened, jaw clenched, before carrying on. "Since the First Magilnadan were destroyed, Asuhas' legions took the brunt of the fighting against the Free Country Salphors. Asuhas is still raising a new legion as his garrison. You will be joining the recruits. Experienced men like you should have no problem."
"One problem," said Muuril. He drew up the sleeve of his tunic to show the symbol of the Thirteenth tattooed on his arm. The other men did likewise. "How do we explain these, king?"
Ullsaard looked at the marks, one hand rubbing the scar on his lip.
"I'll have release papers drawn up," Ullsaard said after some thought. His smile was lopsided, eyes mischievous. "We'll date them to last year, before the march to Carantathi. Congratulations, you've all served your minimum term in the Legions. You'll be entitled to your pensions and a quiet life."
There was a glance between Muuril and Faasil, which Gelthius did not understand but Ullsaard seemed to recognise with a knowing nod. The two of them were both nearly thirty years old and coming up to their legitimate ten-year service.
"Yes, I'll hold true to the papers, if that's what you're thinking," said Ullsaard, eliciting nods of gratitude from the two veterans. The king looked at Gelthius, Gebriun and Faalin. "That goes for all of you."
It took a little while, and the nudge and smiles of Gebriun, for the import of this announcement to sink in to Gelthius' brain. The king would be signing their release papers, legally guaranteeing their legion pension, allowing them to leave the legion and get on with the rest of their lives. Though they had all chosen to be members of the Thirteenth, Gelthius under a little more duress than the others admittedly, they would be free of their oaths if they did as the king wished.
"It'll just be paperwork, of course," said Muuril. "We'll know that we're still part of the Thirteenth, right?"
"If that's what you want," said the king. "Any of you would be welcome back to the legion, or you can take the offer as it has been made."
"Yeah, but it's just for show," Muuril continued, looking at the others. He rapped a fist against his breastplate. "We're still Thirteenth, where it counts."
The others nodded, though none of them seemed as adamant as the sergeant.
"How can we be sure that we'll get into the palace?" asked Faalin. "Garrison legions are stationed all over the province."
"As returning veterans, you'll be given first choice for home duties," said Ullsaard. "Say you have family living in Marradan and you'll be guaranteed posts at the palace. Trust me, Asuhas will need veterans in his new legion; you'll be his first captain's dreams come true. I wouldn't be surprised if you were all made third captains, at least."
"One other thing, king," said Muuril. "It's a good seven days between here and Marradan, eight more likely. How are we going to communicate with you?"
"I'll be in Menesun, so it will be closer to ten days," said Ullsaard. "I'll set up shifts of runners, from Marradan to Menesun, they'll be able to carry messages between us. I'll pick five men, and I'll give you a list of the names before you leave. Also, before you head out, you'll have to agree where you'll meet the runners in Marradan. I'll leave it up to you to sort out, I don't need to know the details."
"And when do you want us to get going?" Gelthius asked, thinking about the pig roasting in the kitchens and the other festivities being planned. It looked like he would be leaving again before he had time for a proper meal and a drink. He glanced towards the inn and Ullsaard must have read his gaze.
"Tomorrow morning," said the king with a grin. He slapped a hand to Gelthius' shoulder. "Pork and crackling for you tonight, and be sure to get some cold cuts to enjoy on the way to Marradan."
"Thank you, King," said Gelthius. He stood up and nodded.
"We'll not let you down," said Muuril, as the others got to their feet.
"I know you won't," said King Ullsaard. He turned his gaze to the tents that had been erected on the hillside just outside the village. "Best get back to camp, you have preparations to make."
They waited until they were out of earshot, heading up the road towards the campsite, and then all five men started talking at once. It was Muuril, largest and loudest of them all, that prevailed.
"Did you get that, lads?" he said. "King's chosen men, we are now. And pensioned too, if you slackers want that. I tell you, forget tonight, it's going to be pork and crackling all the way for us."
"Unless Asuhas finds out we're spying on him and has us killed," said Gebriun
"Ah, don't spoil it you miserable cunt," said Muuril.
"Eight days until we get to Marradan," said Loordin. "That's enough free time for me. After that, it's not worth worrying about. "
"I think I'm going to enjoy retirement," Faalin said with a wink. "I hear that Ersuan women are very hospitable."
"Welcoming enough, if you don't mind shagging something with more stubble than you," laughed Loordin.
"You're quiet, captain," said Muuril, noticing Gelthius' solemn mood. The third captain had become something of a talisman for the group, his journey from debtor to officer seen as a sign of good luck by the other men. The others quietened, ready to absorb the sage words of their officer-mascot.
"You're all forgetting why we're off to Marradan," said Gelthius. "Urikh is claiming to be king and Ullsaard has been declared dead. Unless Ullsaard handles this situation quick, it'll mean war again. "
"It won't come to that," said Loordin, though there were doubtful looks from the others. "It can't come to that. Folks have only just got used to having Ullsaard as king, they won't take kindly to Urikh. And most of the legions are in Salphoria, there's nobody here to fight a war."
"If war breaks out, we might find ourselves on the wrong side in the Twenty-first when we should be in the Thirteenth," said Gebriun. "I don't reckon our new commander's going to be as trusting as King Ullsaard."
"
If
Asuhas is for Urikh and not Ullsaard," said Muuril.
"We'll know soon enough," said Gelthius. "Let's just make sure we get everything in order before we set out."
"Yes, captain." The dutiful response was given by the legionnaires without any mockery or irony, and Gelthius realised that the others would be looking to him to continue being leader once they reached Marradan.
He walked in silence as they started to chatter again. It was one thing to be a third captain in a legion, basically chasing the legionnaires to make sure the second captain's orders and rota were put into practice. Now they would be looking for real leadership, and Gelthius had no experience of that.
I'm in charge, he thought. Spirits help us.
MARRADAN, ERSUA
Late autumn, 213th year of Askh
I
Marradan was home to a strange atmosphere, and it pervaded the legion that was stationed there; or perhaps it was something about the Twenty-first that had an effect on the city. It was hard for Gelthius to put his finger on, because the city itself was a dismal place. Grey clouds unleashed a constant drizzle on grey, cobbled streets that wound between grey, stone buildings with grey, slate rooftops. The people wore drab clothes of grey and brown and beige, perhaps so as not to stand out in their grey world. The only colour Gelthius had seen since arriving was the green that was paired with a light grey on the flags flying from the walls and the shields of the growing Twenty-first Legion; grey and green being the colours of Ersua.
Gelthius and his companions had been welcomed into the ranks as soon as they had presented themselves and their papers to First Captain Lutaan. The legion commander was young for his position, animated and enthusiastic to welcome the men of the Thirteenth under his command. Gelthius had seen him before, though only from a distance. Lutaan was nephew to Donar, first captain of the Fifth who had campaigned alongside Ullsaard in his bid for the throne and had fought frequently next to the Thirteenth during the invasion of Salphoria. It had been the Fifth, along with the Seventh, that had been caught in a Salphorian ambush with the Thirteenth during the march to Carantathi, and who had been with the king when he reached the Salphors' capital.
From personal experience and reputation, Gelthius knew that Donar was a sound, sensible commander and though Lutaan lacked age and experience, the men of the Fifth had spoken well of him during his time as a second captain. To Gelthius that boded well, and he hoped that Lutaan would be loyal to the king rather than the governor. Lutaan was certainly facing a challenge, having to create a legion from nothing in the face of local apathy.
Gelthius and Muuril had been kept together, to form the core of a new company being added to the legion; Gebriun, Loordin and Faasil had been made sergeants in other companies. The first impressions of the Ersuans who made up the bulk of the legion – nearly all of them from Marradan and the surrounding towns – was of a surly, tight-lipped bunch. They were not outright hostile to the newcomers, but there was no obvious comradeship or extension of friendship from the locals either.
In the first couple of days after arriving in Marradan, Gelthius picked up on one reason for the cloud that hung over the newly re-formed legion. If legions were destroyed or disbanded their number became available for the next body of men to be founded. The last Twenty-first legion had been renamed the First Magilnadan by the traitorous governor Anglhan. The stigma of the Magilnadans' treachery – including the murder of Prince Jutaar who had led the First Magilnadan – would remain with the legion even though there was no connection between the men who made up the Twenty-first now and those who had sided with the Salphors. At least for living memory, the Twenty-first would be known as oathbreakers and mutineers, though it was no fault of theirs.
Worse still, in a way, and a further reminder of this ignominious past, was the fact that the legion had a newly forged icon of Askhos. No legion had ever lost its battle standard in over two hundred years of the empire, but the icon of the First Magilnadan had disappeared when the legion turned rogue. Gelthius had placed his hand on the new icon, which was kept in the first captain's headquarters at the barracks, and had noticed the cleanliness and shine of the gilding, and the pristine condition of the sculpted face of Askhos. The icon of the Thirteenth had been kept clean and polished but countless battles had left a history of dents, scratches and chips that were worn by Askhos like proud battle scars.
With no company of their own as yet, Gelthius and Muuril were attached to the palace guards on a semi-permanent basis. While this gave them easy access to Asuhas's dwelling, it meant they could only see the others in their little band every four days, as the watch rotations brought around the companies of the rest to the palace.
Their day-to-day routine was much as would be expected by a garrison, split between patrolling the palace and its grounds and drilling at the barracks. Four days after arriving, Gelthius met Ullsaard's first runner, Haaldir, in a small winehouse far from the drinking holes of the legionnaires. There was not much of remark to tell the king's messenger, and so Haaldir departed with only the news that the king's spies had been accepted into the Twenty-first and that Gelthius and Muuril were within the palace walls keeping an eye and an ear ready for any news of Urikh.
While many provincial palace buildings were situated outside their capitals, the palace of Asuhas was an imposing, five-storey building that formed one side of Marradan's central square. The square was large enough for ten thousand legionnaires to drill in rank and file, and opposite the palace rose the three-tiered ziggurat of the Brotherhood precinct. The houses of the Ersuan nobility and richest traders completed the square, which was reached by three roads; one through the palace itself, which was built as an arch over the thoroughfare, two others from either side of the Brotherhood precinct.
The interior was divided between the main audience hall and adjoining chambers, and two wings that accommodated the governor and various other important noble families of Ersua. The patrols of the garrison legion covered all of the areas that were used by the public and staff, and most of the private chambers, but it was odd to Gelthius that the Twentyfirst were not responsible for the governor's chambers. These were protected by legionnaires with black shields and helmet crests denoting that they were attached directly to the Brotherhood. Usually these soldiers oversaw punishment work groups, protected the precincts and manned the few prisons where convict-labourers were housed overnight.
The blackcrests, as they were referred to outside of the Brotherhood, were part of no formal legion, answering instead to the senior brother of the precinct to which they were attached. For practical purposes, they were usually stationed in their own enclaves within the camps and barracks of the provincial garrison legions, sharing armouries, kitchens and other facilities. Gelthius had spent no time at all with the blackcrests in his time with the Thirteenth, but he could tell from the reactions of Muuril and the others that they were considered a bit strange for swearing loyalty to the Brotherhood and king rather than legion and king.
"I know the Twenty-first ain't no veteran legion, but I never heard of no governor being protected by Brotherhood troops," remarked Muuril, when he and Gelthius met at the end of their guard shift at the palace. The two of them walked back to the main barracks together, while most of the other legionnaires on their shift visited family or drinking holes. The walk took less than half an hour, but it gave them some chance to speak to each other in privacy.