The Crown of the Usurper (33 page)

  "He always wanted to be a soldier," said his wife, sitting up so that she could lay her head on his shoulder and speak softly in his ear. "He was so proud of you."

  "And I of him," said Ullsaard. "He always tried to make me proud and I never acknowledged it. I never told him how happy it made me to see him in breastplate and cloak."

  Bowing his head, the king allowed Allenya to sooth his troubled thoughts, her hand moving up and down his back with slow strokes, easing the tension from his muscles. When his eyes were drying, he kissed his wife on the cheek.

  "Tell me again how Anglhan died," he said.

  "I stabbed him in the heart and cut off his balls," Allenya replied, and Ullsaard smiled. "He died begging and crying, in return for killing our son."

  "I love you." Ullsaard kissed her on the lips.

  "I love you too." Allenya placed her hand on the back of his neck and pulled him towards her, kissing him in return.

  The taste of her, the warmth of Allenya's presence, sent energy through Ullsaard. His member was erect almost immediately, pressing against the leather of his kilt. For a moment a thought flickered into his mind: of Askhos. He dismissed it, knowing that he could not hold back any longer. He felt nothing of the dead king's presence and he needed to be with Allenya, fully and unconditionally.

  She was pulling aside the front of her dress with one hand, grabbing Ullsaard's wrist in the other so that his hand moved to her exposed breast. He caressed it gently, holding back the ferocious desire that was threatening to engulf him. Their kisses became longer, tongues touching, hands exploring each other's bodies as if for the first time.

  Ullsaard quivered as Allenya reached under his kilt, her fingers brushing along the length of his manhood. He twitched and squirmed as her hand engulfed him, massaging slowly from the base of his cock to the tip. He pulled away from her kisses and lowered his head to her breast, tongue circling the nipple before his mouth clamped around it. Her moan of pleasure caused his erection to stiffen even more, pressing almost painfully against the inside of his kilt.

  Unable to restrain himself any longer, Ullsaard pushed Allenya aside, so that she lay twisted, her upper half on her front, backside rising up towards him. Pulling up her dress he savoured the sight of her pale buttocks, gently patting them before slipping his hand between her thighs, fingers probing wet hair and then finding entry.

  Manoeuvring one leg between Allenya's, Ullsaard slipped his manhood into her, pushing slowly until his whole length was inside. He gritted his teeth as she squeezed tight around him, sending a pulse of pleasure up his shaft.

  "I can't…" he growled, pulling out and pushing into her once more before his orgasm exploded through him, every drop of his love and grief and desire flowing from the end of his cock into his wife. The climax felt as if it would never stop, spurt after spurt, every shuddering moment gripping his entire body.

  He slumped over Allenya, engulfing her with his bulk. He did not know how long he lay there, unable to reason or sense anything other than the warmth that suffused him. After an age he rolled away onto his back, eyes closed. Allenya followed him, placing her head on his chest, her finger drawing circles on the inside of his thigh.

  "I did not mean to finish so swiftly," he said, looking at Allenya. "I didn't mean to use you."

  She smiled and her hand moved between his legs, stroking his balls. To Ullsaard's amazement, his member twinged in response, starting to harden again.

  "Do not worry, my love," Allenya said, the words coming between kisses on his body that moved down toward his groin. "I will make sure I get what I need as well."

 

When finally Allenya and Ullsaard were sated by their lovemaking, the king slipped into a calm slumber. A dream came swiftly, of Askhos' mausoleum-cave in the other world that the dead king inhabited. Askhos sat on a wooden stall beside the stone slab of his tomb and looked surprised at Ullsaard's arrival.

  "I did not expect to return here," said the First King. "I thought this place dead to me."

  "It is," replied Ullsaard, sensing something different about the place. He looked out of the entrance and saw dark hillsides with a clear, starry sky above; the landscape of Okhar. "It is my memory of this place, not the original."

  "You seem unusually happy considering your situation."

  "Allenya and I have got to know each other again," said Ullsaard, smiling at the thought.

  "Enjoy the moment while it lasts, Ullsaard. Your troubles will be waiting for you in the morning."

  "They will, which is why I will wake shortly and fuck my wife again, to ensure that I make the most of this night." Ullsaard looked for somewhere to sit. He noticed a bench along one wall of the cave, carved from the stone itself.

  "That was not here before," said Askhos as the king sat down.

  "I think I have learnt something from you in the time you have spent in my head. This place, the world of my dreams, is alongside that one of which you speak. I can control what happens here, just as you used to. When Lakhyri took me through the dreamworld to Noran, something… something meshed with me. I can feel it, in the Blood, connecting me to you, to this place."

  Askhos looked at the king with surprise.

  "I do not think it is your understanding that increases." The First King paused and looked around, though his gaze was distant, not looking at the contents of the cave. He frowned as he focussed on Ullsaard once more. "Yes, as I suspected. The veil is thinning."

  "Veil?"

  "There are worlds within worlds within worlds. On and on, entire universes within other universes. The veil is a barrier, a reality that keeps them apart. Only in essence can we cross between – your dream self, here and now, for example. Physical things, our bodies, worlds, are kept separate. Something is breaking the barrier, coming from the otherworld to our reality. The thinning of the veil enables you to extend your will into the dream-sphere."

  "What does that mean? What is trying to cross over? And what happens if the veil is torn?"

  "All good questions," replied Askhos, perturbed by his own pronouncement. "I do not know for sure the right answer, but my guesses are all bad. Only Lakhyri can really tell us what is happening."

  "He is in Askh, out of my reach for the moment."

  Askhos stopped again, becoming frozen for a short while, during which Ullsaard felt the slight touch of the dead king fluttering through him, searching his memories. With a blink and a shudder, Askhos returned.

  "I see, things are even worse than when our minds last touched. I am glad I missed out on the faking of your death, which seems a singularly unpleasant experience. What made you trust that Anglhan would keep his word?"

  "Desperation," Ullsaard replied with a sigh. "I had no choice but to believe him when he said he intended for me to survive. The alternative was to die. I cannot think that he had my best interests at heart, but he saw me as his best means to regaining power. It would have been stupid to get myself killed just to spite his ambition."

  "And now what do you plan to do?"

  "I am not telling you," said Ullsaard, standing up. He grinned at Askhos' frown. "I do not trust you any more than I would trust your brother, or my son. I have no guarantee that you have not been the architect of my misfortune all this time. You have shown me the stranger underside of the world, and told me of how things can be in different locations and yet the same place, and messages can be sent across the world in a moment. How am I to know that you do not collude with Lakhyri?"

  Askhos opened his mouth to reply but Ullsaard wagged a finger and the dead king's lips clamped shut.

  "See? I am in control here. Always you have sought to use me for your purposes, and that will not continue. I am done with you."

  Ullsaard turned his back on Askhos and walked out of the cave, feeling the mute protests of the king following him. Now that he had one less thing to worry about, Ullsaard could concentrate on more solid matters: retaking Askh and bringing his son to account for his actions.

 

Scratching his belly and yawning, Noran walked out of the guesthouse and into the courtyard of the villa. The air was crisp, as was the frost underfoot, but the low sun was bright, catching the rime on the edges of the roof tiles. Ullsaard was sat on a circular bench around the trunk of a leafless tree, a stylus in one hand and a folding wax tablet in the other. The king's face was a mask of concentration as he wrote, pausing every few moments to cock his head to one side and review his progress.

  The gravel underfoot betrayed Noran's approach up the path and Ullsaard looked up. He raised the tablet to his brow to shield his eyes from the winter sun.

  "Nice of you to join me," said the king. "I think I just heard third bells of Low Watch."

  "There has not been a night passed since we left Askh that I was not awake to see the dawn, until this morning. I am entitled to some rest."

  A look of guilt passed across Ullsaard's face, and Noran had known the king long enough to guess that it was not for past inconveniences that Ullsaard felt ashamed.

  "What do you want?" Noran asked, his mood souring quickly.

  "I need you to take a message to Anasind for me," said the king.

  Noran looked at the tablet in Ullsaard's hand, unable to believe what he had just heard. He shook his head.

  "I am not going to Carantathi for you."

  Ullsaard laughed, genuine surprise on his face.

  "I wouldn't ask you to! Anasind has been marching all winter, he should reach Ersua about the same time that you get there."

  "I am not going to Ersua for you, either," said Noran. He sat down next to his friend. "Understand me, I did not turn up in Askh for your benefit, and I helped you escape only because of the past we share. I want nothing to do with this new war of yours."

  "Really?" Ullsaard seemed more amused than irritated by Noran's declaration. "You would rather Urikh was king than me? You want the Brotherhood to rule the empire in his name?"

  Urikh was not the problem, Noran thought. He had seen the things that the king had bargained with and wanted no part of opposing such power.

  "I am heading hotwards, to Cosuan perhaps. I am getting out of the empire and if you were a smart man you would too. There is nothing left to fight for."

  "You know that I will not give up without a fight. I have been wronged, and whatever Urikh thinks he is doing, all he is achieving is Lakhyri's will. I cannot allow that."

  "Urikh is an idiot," Noran blurted before he could stop himself. He clamped his teeth together to stop himself saying anything further.

  "Why do you say that?" asked Ullsaard. "He has us outmanoeuvred, that's for sure. Well, he has until my message gets to Anasind."

  "It doesn't matter," said Noran, standing up. He crossed his arms, defiant to the king's suggestion. "I am not going with any message to anybody. If I am caught, I will have my throat slit, or worse."

  "It was Urikh that had you dragged to Askh, do you think he will simply forget about you?" said the king.

  "He will have other matters on his mind, I am sure of it. He is about to discover that power borrowed rarely lasts long."

  "You think Lakhyri will move against him? If so, that's all the more reason to make sure we're ready to strike."

  "Stop saying 'we' and 'us', Ullsaard! You assume that I am with you. You always assume that I will back you. Not this time. No, not this time." Noran took a few paces back and forth and then looked imploringly at the king. "I am scared, Ullsaard. You are not pitching yourself against a… against a natural power this time."

  Ullsaard sat back and placed the wax tablet on the bench beside him. His gaze lingered on Noran for quite some time while the king seemed to be making a decision.

  "You saw something, didn't you? At the palace."

  "What makes you say that?" replied Noran. He regretted answering with a question of his own – simple evasion that even Ullsaard recognised as such. The king leaned forward, arms resting on his knees.

  "Something strange? Not of this world?"

  "Strange does not cover it," Noran said with a sigh, admitting defeat. It did not matter if Ullsaard thought him touched in the head, he had to tell somebody what he had seen in the Hall of Askhos.

  "It was a beast of shadow, but not there really. It… devoured Asuhas. I mean, it swallowed him up, every fibre of him, every drop of blood. I have…" Noran could not describe what he had seen. It was making his heart race and his gut twist just thinking about the horrifying experience. "It was something I never want to see again. You cannot fight that, Ullsaard. Come away with me, and leave Urikh to his folly."

  "What about Meliu?" growled Ullsaard, eyes narrowing. "You would abandon her."

  Noran shrugged and looked apologetic.

  "I am not a hero, Ullsaard. She had her chance to come and she chose to stay, for your benefit, rather than leave with me. Her priorities are clear."

  "And you thank her for protecting us by deserting her?" Ullsaard rose to his feet, fists clenching at his sides. "What kind of man are you?"

  "One that very much wants to stay alive," said Noran, but he could feel his resolve wavering. Last night, in the brief moments in bed before long overdue sleep had swept over him, he had been adamant that he would stay a few days only and then he would get out of Greater Askhor. The shadow that eats men haunted his dreams, and he was not going to sacrifice himself to such a fate for anybody. Now that Ullsaard mentioned Meliu, Noran saw her sweet face and he hated himself for the decision he had already made.