The Crown of the Usurper (26 page)

  "Let your brother stay if he wants to, Urikh," said Meliu, stopping to glance back at Noran and the king. The way she spoke put Noran in mind of an aunt asking her nephew to look after an infant cousin while the adults had business to discuss, and he could see that her maternal tone infuriated Urikh, despite the king's attempts to conceal his irritation. "He is heir now, after all. He needs to learn how these things work."

  Unseen by his mother and aunts, Ullnaar grinned, and Noran could imagine the annoyance of Urikh at being treated like a child, forced by his mother's sister to look after his younger sibling. The king's jaw clenched as he bit back whatever venomous reply had sprung to mind.

  "I am king, not a child," said Urikh, his tone measured once more. "I will be left alone to speak privately with Noran, and that will be an end to the matter. There will be many other opportunities for Ullnaar to observe the functions of court first hand."

  "And what if I refuse to leave, brother?" Ullnaar was testing the king, baiting him for a response, but Urikh was wise to the ploy; years of bickering had taught both siblings the best way to deal with each other.

  "I will have you locked up by the Brotherhood," replied Urikh, and Noran could see in the king's eye the determination to see through such a threat. The herald darted a warning look at Ullnaar, but the young lawyer-to-be had his attention fixed on the king.

  "The empire will not suffer rule by a tyrant, brother," Ullnaar said, his expression losing its humour. "You cannot threaten everybody, remember that."

  Ullnaar turned away but Noran paid attention to Urikh, seeing the king's fingers fidget with his sash for a moment. The moment passed and the king's expression hardened. He looked as if he believed that threatening a whole empire was quite possible.

  The two men stood saying nothing while the hall was emptied of family and staff. When everybody else had left, Urikh gestured towards the food-laden table.

  "I understand that your journey may not have been entirely comfortable," aid the king. "If you are hungry, please help yourself."

  Noran was hungry and glanced at the food, but he would not be distracted and waved away the king's offer.

  "You have me arrested and dragged here, and now you think you can offer hospitality?" snapped the herald. "Why? What purpose could it serve to bring me to the palaces, other than to open old wounds? You are a cold man sometimes, Urikh, but I never thought of you as actually cruel."

  Urikh listened to Noran without reaction, his face immobile. When the herald had finished, the king nodded, as if in acknowledgement of Noran's complaints.

  "It is not cruelty that brings you here, but necessity," said Urikh. "I cannot leave the palace at the moment, and it is imperative that I speak with you."

  "A letter of invitation is more traditional than an armed guard," said Noran. He regretted his words a moment later when the king stalked towards him, jabbing a finger at the herald.

  "You would not have come if I had invited you," said Urikh, striding up to Noran. "Whatever happened between you and my father has not been settled, that much was clear. I do not know what you have been doing in Geria, but you have not been paying attention to the talk in the streets. If you had done, you would have known of Ullsaard's death long before I sent word for the news to be brought to you. I thought that your friendship with my family, the patronage shown to you by my father, would have been bond enough to bring you to the capital earlier, but time is running out and so I resorted to more brutal methods. That was not my fault, it was yours."

  "I do not understand your intent," Noran confessed, shaking his head. "I am a poor ally, if that is what you are after. My father still possesses most of the wealth and influence of my family. It is his support you should seek."

  "I already have his support," said Urikh. The king turned away and stalked back to the feast. He snatched up a cup and swallowed a mouthful of the contents. Urikh's hand was shaking slightly as he put the cup down and turned to look at Noran, leaning back against the edge of the table. "There is something that you alone can do for me."

  "Time is running out for what?" Noran asked, catching up on the words of the king's tirade. "What can be so urgent?"

  "Ullsaard is not dead," said the king.

  The words took a moment to settle into Noran's brain. When he had been told of his friend's death, he had thought it the most shocking thing he could have heard; he had been wrong. Unable to comprehend what he had just been told, he listened dumbly as Urikh explained.

  "Ullsaard is not dead, and he has returned to Greater Askhor, or will try to do so soon," said the king. To Urikh's credit, he did not try to meet Noran's gaze, but looked up into the dome above the hall. "I am already dealing with the immediate problem that poses to me, but I have a far more insidious issue to contend with. That is where I need you."

  "You took the Crown whilst Ullsaard is still alive? Are you mad? Do you know what he is going to do to you?"

  "He is going to do nothing," said Urikh. The king gave an exasperated sigh. "Let me make this simple. My father may be alive for the moment, but that is not going to continue for long. He will be apprehended shortly, if he is not, in fact, already dead. The rumour of his return, that is another matter entirely. I have already taken steps to spread the myth that he is not the real king, but an impostor. When his body is brought here, you will act as witness to the fact that the man is not Ullsaard, but someone claiming his name. You were his best friend, and you have nothing to gain by falsehood, so the testimony you give will be accepted and my version of events will prevail."

  "If I have nothing to gain from falsehood, why will I lie?" Noran thought he knew the answer already, but it was better to hear it from the lips of Urikh himself.

  "You will help me, because if you do not it will cause heartache and shame for my family. In turn, I will kill you."

  "What if I do not care whether I live or die?" asked Noran. It was not an idle question and Urikh could see from the herald's expression that this was the case.

  "I will also kill your family, and perhaps even Meliu," Urikh replied quietly. There was regret in the king's voice, but no shame. Though Noran had been expecting such a reply, Urikh's pragmatic attitude was like a dagger in the belly, sending a twist of pain through the herald's gut. He saw a calculating look in the king's eye that sent a chill through him. "Do not think to test me on this. I will have my way, and I will be king, but it is better that we make this as painless possible for the empire and the people we love."

  Noran had always known of Urikh's ambitious streak, and it was not much of a surprise that he had usurped his father. What confused Noran was that Urikh seemed to be doing such a bad job of it.

  "Why did you not simply have Ullsaard killed before taking the Crown?" said the herald. "I know that would not be easy, but it must have been a better alternative than this tapestry of lies you are now forced to weave."

  "The time of the empire as you know it is coming to an end," said Urikh, and Noran saw the twitch of cheek and fingers he had noticed earlier. It was nervousness. "If I had not taken the Crown when I had, another would be here now and I and all of my family would be dead. I have… allies who make demands of me. If Ullsaard must die to protect the empire and my family, I will pay that price."

  Noran had no idea who these allies might be. The king believed everything he said, and it was clear from the look in his eye and the surety of his voice that he believed he was doing the right thing. A man who believed he had no alternative was possessed of a certain kind of desperation, and Noran recognised this in Urikh.

  "Who am I to argue with the king?" said Noran, and he meant what he said. "If Ullsaard needs to die to save the empire, and
my
family, I will lie for you."

 

The cart shuddered over cobbles and Ullsaard guessed that they had passed into Askh. He lay bound by hand and foot in the back of a covered wagon, a gag between his teeth. For most of his incarceration he had been tied only by the hands, but now that they reached the heart of the empire Asuhas and Anglhan were not taking any chances.

  
You can take heart that we are not yet dead.

  "Only because Anglhan and Asuhas want to present me alive to my son, hoping for greater reward," growled Ullsaard. Though his words were muffled by the gag, his intent was known to Askhos. Ullsaard spoke out loud only because it allowed him to keep his thoughts separate from the spirit of the man inside his head. When they communicated without words, Ullsaard felt himself bleeding into Askhos, losing sense of himself. Whether this was because of the broken connection with the Crown, or whether Askhos was trying to exert more influence over the king Ullsaard did not know; he was not going to risk losing his independence to find out.

  On the long journey from Menesun the dead king had been an occasional companion, though his insights had been limited and advice undesired. The closer they came to Askh, the more Askhos seemed to strengthen, and for the past eight nights Ullsaard had experienced vivid dreams in which he had walked amongst the stars with his ancestor. He was not sure why this would be the case, when Askhos' tie to the Crown had been severed.

  
It was never the Crown, Ullsaard. It is merely a window to the place where I continued. The strength of my presence depends upon the Grand Precincts of the Brotherhood. It is a bridge, or a door if you like, to those otherworlds of which I have spoken. The closer I am to the precinct, the easier it is to project myself from the place where I dwell.

  "But your sons – you within your sons – conquered an empire, taking you far from Askh."

  
The coronations always took place at the Grand Precincts, where my power was at its strongest. The moment they placed the Crown on their heads they were pushed aside, allowing for my will to enter. Once I was inside their bodies, the Crown was irrelevant, until another son became king.

  "If I had been born before Kalmud, I would have been the true heir, and the Blood would have been strong enough for you to take over me, right?" Ullsaard felt the dead king's agreement without words. As well as the length of time Askhos was able to manifest increasing, the bond between the two kings grew more intimate with proximity to the Grand Precincts. In the dreams there had been moments of communion, during which Ullsaard had found it difficult to tell if he was with the founder of the Empire or was the founder of the empire. Memories were becoming blurred by Askhos' spirit being forced to linger within Ullsaard's physical form.

  
The past is irrelevant; the possibilities of what might have been are of no concern to us. The uncertainties of the future are enough to occupy our endeavours. Most importantly, and most pressingly, how do you plan to escape from this wagon? I know that you have been waiting for us to be brought to Askh, biding your time. Now is the time to act.

  "I can think of a lot of words that describe Anglhan, but sloppy isn't one of them," said Ullsaard. He pulled at the rope binding his wrists. The knot was tight, above his hands where his fingers could not work the binding. This rope was tied to the cord that bound the king's ankles, and in turn was looped around a ring riveted into the front board of the wagon. Ullsaard pulled, straining his arms. His right shoulder throbbed, weakened by past wounds that had left scars on the surface and in the muscle. Ullsaard was still a strong man, but even with his feet braced against the board holding the ring there was no give in wood or metal or rope. With a grunt, he gave up. "No, I don't think I'll be getting off this cart until I'm meant to.

  "Stop fidgeting," said one of the legionnaires on the driving seat. "Don't make me come back there."

  Ullsaard lapsed into immobility, inhaling deeply through his nose to catch his breath. His only hope was if his captors did not want to carry him from the wagon; they would have to free his legs to let him walk. Yet even if he did have a chance to bolt for freedom, what good would it do?

  
Better to be free than a prisoner.

  "Better to be a prisoner than dead," replied Ullsaard. "As you said, perhaps Urikh wants me alive. If I try to escape, Anglhan and Asuhas would prefer me dead than on the loose in Askh."

  
Yes, I heard them instructing the guards as well. They will kill you rather than let you get away. Your ears are mine, do not forget.

  "So it seems that the best option, the only option, is to wait and see what happens." Ullsaard hated the words even as he said them. For too long he had been on the back foot, responding to the deeds of others rather than imposing his will on the situation.

  A gong nearby attracted his attention and he listened to the pattern and count of the strikes: second of Duskwatch. They had come into the city not long before the gates were closed at Low Watch, which meant that it would be dark when they arrived. Ullsaard concentrated on their surroundings, sensing that they had moved from cobbles to flat paved roads. That meant they were at least a mile inside the city.

  He had seen from their previous stops that there were only three wagons in their small convoy. Asuhas was travelling without his usual guard and the men of the Twenty-first were out of uniform, so as to attract as little attention as possible. Anglhan and the governor were trying to keep their visit as low profile as they could, and Ullsaard had only counted ten men accompanying them. Even so, ten men were too much opposition for one man, bound as he was. Ullsaard's only real hope was of attracting attention in some way that would not be noticed.

  Judging by the increasing incline of the wagon, they were on a steepening hill, probably approaching the Royal Mound. That meant either Maarmes, the palace or the Grand Precincts. He did not know which.