The Crown of the Usurper (7 page)

  "Wasn't always like that, neither," Gelthius answered. "I heard from Captain Anadlin that the blackcrests were only brought in as guards in the summer. It put Captain Lutaan's nose right out of joint, it did. Like he was being told his legion wasn't up to the job. Reason given was something about how close Marradan is to the Salphor border. Something about the Twenty-first might be needed for the campaign and so they had to be free to leave without abandoning the palace."

  "Fucking blackheads," snorted Muuril. "And ain't that about the same time that Urikh decides to have a go at being king?"

  "If the Brotherhood have been convinced that King Ullsaard is dead, they might want to ensure the governors remember who is in charge," said Gelthius. "Nothing like a few dozen blackcrests standing around your bedroom door to remind you where your loyalties lie."

  "And that's why I can't see Asuhas agreeing to it, not freely," said Muuril. The two of them fell silent as they passed a group of legionnaires sitting on the benches outside a brothel, wine cups and ale tankards on the tables between them. Half-naked girls sat on their laps whispering compliments and offers, while two men with heavy cudgels stood to one side, watching the proceedings with bored expressions. Gelthius shared nods with a few of the customers he recognised.

  "You know what we need to do?" said Muuril. "About them blackheads, I mean."

  Gelthius was afraid that he did know, but he shook his head and made Muuril spell it out all the same. If Muuril said it out loud, it was the sergeant's fault.

  "We've got to get into the governor's chambers," said Muuril and Gelthius silently cursed, his assumption confirmed. The sergeant did not notice and continued. "They've got to be hiding something in there. We have to have a look at what it is."

  "Why?" said Gelthius, knowing the answer but feeling like he needed to raise the argument anyway. "Why can't we just tell the king that there's a bunch of blackcrests guarding Asuhas, and we can let Ullsaard decide what to do. If we go poking around and get caught, it's gonna raise suspicions, right enough. And then what if someone makes the connection between us and the king, what with us being from the Thirteenth and everything?"

  Muuril considered the third captain's protest for some time, until the walls of the barracks were in view at the bottom of the street.

  "Because the king trusts us to do what is right by him," the sergeant answered, patting Gelthius on the arm, "and you and I both know that finding out why a bunch of the Brotherhood's muscle is guarding the governor's chambers is what we need to do."

  "Yeah, I know," Gelthius conceded, "but it ain't gonna be easy."

  "Sure it is," said Muuril, his stubbled face split by a grin. "I've already figured out how we do it too. All we need is some time to talk to Loordin."

  "Why Loordin?"

  "Because he's a mouthy gobshite, that's why." Muuril's grin stretched wider as Gelthius shook his head and gave the sergeant a doubtful look. "Trust me, captain, it's a great plan."

 

"This is a shit plan," snapped Loordin.

  "Shut up and keep walking," said Muuril, waving his spear, "or I'll jab you with this for certain."

  It was just after the Noonwatch change of guard and Gelthius and Muuril were advancing down the main corridor to Asuhas's chambers with Loordin between them. Loordin was off-duty and dressed in the tunic and hose of a servant, a crudely tied scarf around his arm to hide his legion tattoo. To complete the disguise, Loordin had a silver tray purloined from First Captain Lutaan's quarters earlier that morning, on which had been artfully arranged several apples and other fruit.

  Ahead of them two Brotherhood legionnaires barred the passageway, standing to attention, their spears held behind their shields. The corridor was in the heart of the palace wing, with no windows, and so it was impossible to see the faces of the soldiers in the lamplight – they were in shadow from the lanterns hanging from the ceiling behind them.

  The two Thirteenth legionnaires and mock servant were stopped by the lowered spearpoints of the blackcrests, about half a dozen paces from the two soldiers.

  "What's this?" asked the blackcrest standing on the right.

  "Food," replied Loordin, in the sarcastic tone he had perfected over many years of making his fellow legionnaires pay for every slip of the tongue and stupid question asked. Loordin also had a peculiar slouch of the shoulders that cried out insolence without a word being said. Gelthius had been on the receiving end of the slouch several times when he had assigned Loordin to Gravewatch sentry duty or some other onerous task.

  "Who for?" said the other blackcrest, stepping forward.

  "It's fruit. It's for the fucking monkey, who do you think?" said Loordin.

  Gelthius could feel Loordin trembling, and could also sense Muuril trying hard to stifle a laugh. Gelthius was filled with dread by the entire scheme, but Muuril's slightly reddening face and clamped tight jaw was infectious and the third captain could feel the laugh building up in his gut.

  The suppressed amusement of the two legionnaires no doubt added to the shortness of temper of the two blackcrests, who were not happy with Loordin's explanation.

  "Monkey? What monkey?" the one on the left demanded.

  "I don't know, I just arrived," said Loordin, adding a petulant sigh to further antagonise the blackcrests.

  "There ain't no monkey here," said the right-hand blackcrest.

  "Really?" Loordin was really shaking now, though Gelthius could not tell whether it was from nerves or excitement. The legionnaire straightened and looked the closest blackcrest in the eye. "You see, I was told the governor's quarters was full of fucking monkeys."

  Gelthius bit his lip fiercely to quash an outburst as what Loordin had said sunk in to the minds of the blackcrests.

  "You little bastard!" The closest blackcrest pulled back his spear, ready to use it as a club.

  Loordin tossed the platter and fruit into the face of the blackcrest and bolted as the second lunged at him. The legionnaire's tittering laughter acted as further bait, and the two blackcrests could not resist. With a clatter of dropped shields, they set off in pursuit of their tormentor with shouted threats.

  "Fuck me, it actually worked," said Muuril, glancing at Gelthius and then behind at the three men running down the long passageway. "Come on, they won't chase that little runt forever."

  The two of them headed down the corridor, checking the doors and archways to either side. Most of them were empty storerooms, a few had mops, buckets, brushes, and other materials and equipment for the servants to clean the floors and walls. The sound of running petered out entirely and they looked back down the passageway. There was no sign of the blackcrests but they knew time was short.

  "It has to be one of these," said Muuril, "I've seen it before, when we was in the palace in Askh. One of these has to be the baths. Gotta be on the ground floor for the lava to heat the water, right?"

  Gelthius shrugged his ignorance. The next door they found was locked and the one after opened onto a stairway up to the next storey. With anxious looks back down the corridor, they continued along the passageway until they reached an archway on the right. With a sigh of relief, Gelthius caught the scent of bathing oils and felt heat from dissipating steam on his face. Stepping through the archway the two legionnaires came into a tiled space with shelves stacked with jars of unguents and powders. They cautiously passed through another archway at the far end of the narrow chamber, checking that the room beyond was empty first.

  Wooden partitions separated out a dozen curtained spaces, each with its own small chair, low shelves and row of hooks, where bathers could hang their belongings. A quick search revealed that nobody was using the baths at the moment, which was not unusual for the middle of the day. It would likely be several hours before anybody would, and that gave Muuril and Gelthius the opening they needed.

  Stripping off their armour and uniforms, the two men hung up their gear in the two partitions furthest from the entrance, leaving them in the tunics they had been wearing underneath their regulation clothes. Gelthius unravelled the slender hose he had wrapped around his waist beneath his armour and put them to one side while he removed his sandals. He pulled the hose on, the sensation odd after wearing his legion kilt for so long; he remembered when the kilt had felt new and strange too.

  Searching through the cupboards opposite the partitions, Muuril found pairs of backless slippers used by bathers and tossed a pair to Gelthius. He pulled them on, to find they were a little big for his feet. He searched through the cupboards for something a bit smaller, but they all seemed to be of a similar size. He shuffled about in the slippers for a few moments to make sure he could walk in them, and then stowed his sandals with the rest of their uniforms. The two men went back out to the previous room and grabbed two jars of coloured salts each. With these under their arms, they moved into the main bathing chamber, where two pools were filled with water, separated by a narrow walkway. One pool steamed heavily, heated by a lava pit beneath the palace; the other was a cold plunge pool.

  Cutting between the baths, they found another doorway to the private chambers; the servants' entrance. This arch led into another storeroom, filled with towels and tongs, empty braziers, scrapers and other cleansing tools. Nobody saw them emerging into the corridor beyond, and a quick scout around assured the two infiltrators that there were no blackcrests in the immediate vicinity.

  Carrying their salt jars as if they were badges of office, Gelthius and Muuril set off in search of the governor's chambers.

 

Gelthius was not sure how one man and his family could use so many rooms. As well as the audience chambers, feasting halls and gardens where he met with citizens and officials, Asuhas had more than two dozen private rooms: lounges, dining areas, banqueting suites, a personal kitchen, seven bedchambers, wardrobes, a cold bath and an indoor garden filled with exotic plants sent up the Greenwater from nearMekha and Cosuan.

  It was the middle of the day, and there were very few servants around. The majority of the governor's staff were attending to their master as he went about his official business in the public areas of the palace. The lack of activity in the apartments meant that Muuril and Gelthius were able to wander freely through them. They had abandoned their bath salt jars on the second storey when it became apparent that they would attract more attention with them than without.

  Near to the stairwell on the fourth storey they came across a locked door, which Muuril reckoned to be a personal office of some kind.

  "Should we break it open?" he asked, taking a step back, readying for a kick.

  "No!" replied Gelthius, standing in front of the sergeant before he could put his foot to the door. "A busted door is a sure a way as any of saying that somebody has been sneaking around looking for things that they ain't meant to find. Beside, the noise might bring someone."

  "Do you know how to pick locks?" asked Muuril, his face showing more hope than expectation. Gelthius shook his head.

  "The only robbing I done was stealing goats and chickens, and they wasn't locked up."

  "Let's have a shufty down here," suggested Muuril, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder at a side corridor they had yet to explore.

  Gelthius nodded, and the two of them sauntered under the archway and into the small passage. There was another arch at the far end, and Gelthius could see benches and cupboards. Entering, the two found themselves in a guard room, with holes in the wall overlooking the stairs so that defenders could see an attacking enemy and jab at them with spears or shoot arrows through the narrow gaps. Peering through the holes, Gelthius realised that they had been artfully fashioned; he had quite a view from the mid-storey landing but had noticed nothing of the murder holes when he had been coming up the stairs.

  "Hey, these would be better than servants' gear," said Muuril. Gelthius turned and saw the sergeant standing next to the open door of a tall cupboard, a black shield in one hand, a black-crested helmet in the other. "There's five sets in here, bound to find some that fit."

  "What if we run into other blackcrests?" said Gelthius. "They might not know all the faces of the servants, but sure they would think it odd not recognising one of their own?"

  "We can walk around as free as birds in this gear," said Muuril. He tossed the shield to Gelthius, who caught it awkwardly, snatching at the rim before it cracked on the varnished wooden boards of the floor.

  "Fine," said the third captain, placing the shield to one side. "Let's see what they've got."

  It took a short while to find helmet and breastplate that was not outrageously large for Gelthius' small frame. Muuril, being considerably larger than most men, also had a hard time, but managed to squeeze into a set of armour too. Swapping leggings for kilts and slippers for sandals once more, Gelthius somehow felt properly dressed again, even though his new gear chafed a little as he moved.

  "We'll split up and have a quick look around this floor, and then head up to the top, right?" said Gelthius. "No point spending too long, eh?"

  Muuril nodded and headed out the door, Gelthius just behind him. Gelthius turned right at the main passage, while Muuril headed back cross the landing to the left. The apartments that the governor occupied were self-contained, linked by three guarded corridors – and it did not take Gelthius long to check the three rooms he found; another dining room next to a reception chamber with low couches and tables, and a wide-windowed sun room overlooking the palace grounds to hotwards. Returning to the stairs, he met Muuril, who shook his head.