The Crown of the Usurper (27 page)

  
Maarmes is too public. Though they could probably hide us away in one of the disused underground training pits, it is less secure than the palace. My choice, if I were detaining us, would be the Grand Precincts. There are many cells in which to lose us and it is safe to assume that Lakhyri is in league with Urikh and knows of your continued survival. Nobody escapes from the Grand Precinct.

  "This is all Anglhan's fault."

  
Your grasp of our predicament is overwhelming, Ullsaard.

  "Not just here and now, you dead bastard. Ever since Anglhan turned on me and tried to take Magilnada for himself I've been one step behind every event. The delays in Salphoria, the appearance of Erlaan and the Mekhani, all of that has kept me away from Askh, and given Urikh time to plot his moves. Anglhan is moving against the Brotherhood now though, so it must be the palace we're heading to."

  
You overestimate your son's capabilities. He is being an opportunist, and in moving so quickly he has left weaknesses to be exploited.

  "And you know what those weaknesses are? You know that I am not able to tie my thoughts into the sorts of knots needed to work out these political riddles. Noran used to guide me in those sorts of matters."

  
Yes, I am constantly remembering how you tried to be subtle by leaving the legions behind. I wish you had just marched back with the whole army and caused a great big mess. That would have been preferable to this. Regardless, let us consider what we are up against. We know from the report of Captain Gelthius that Asuhas and Anglhan have their own goals in mind, which are separate from the Brotherhood. It is the Brotherhood that appears to be Urikh's main instrument of power, so it is possible to conclude that Asuhas and Anglhan's deception of Leraates is also an attempt to deceive Urikh.

  "I suppose if I can trust Anglhan for one thing, it is to place his own objectives above everybody else's. Asuhas is an idiot if he thinks he has the upper hand over that slimy toad." Ullsaard had tried hard not to let his imprisonment get the better of his mood, but the closer he came to their final destination, the more hopeless his situation seemed. Bitterness swelled in the king, shoving aside the grasping fingers of sadness. He would not go meekly to his fate. "Maybe we'll get lucky and they'll kill each other in an attempt to claim sole credit for my capture. We'll slip out while they're busy."

  
Your sarcasm has some truth to it. Finding some way to divide your enemies further would be prudent. Unfortunately, we have nothing to offer, no power to bargain with and so no leverage to apply to the cracks in their alliances.

  The creaking of the axles took on a different tone and the wagon swayed heavily to one side for a short while. Ullsaard concluded that they had moved onto the cambered road of the Royal Way, and had turned left at the Royal Mound; Ullsaard had assumed rightly and they were headed for the palace.

  Both fell silent, knowing that they were less than half a mile from their destination. Time was about to run out. The wagon carried on for what felt like more than a half mile, and then stopped. Ullsaard could hear clanking chains.

  
The supply gates at the back of the mound.

  Ullsaard had a vision of large double-gates, heavy enough to need a water-driven counterweight to open. They did not rest on normal hinges, but were arranged on a bronze rail to slide aside, even more secure than the main entrance. A broad tunnel behind led directly into the depths of the palace where vast kitchens and servants quarters sprawled. He had not seen these things himself and knew them only from the memories of the spirit residing inside his skull. It was an unsettling experience and he shook his head as if to clear away the alien thoughts.

  The cart jarred into motion again, the wheels banging over the raised rail, jolting Ullsaard from his horror. Only a few heartbeats later, the wagon stopped again and the king heard the drivers jumping down from the board. The flaps of the cart cover were thrown back and three legionnaires approached. They were in a cavern-like space, lit by naked torches. Shadows were long, dancing in the flicker of the flames, and the fumes from the brands made it darker still. The thin smoke made Ullsaard cough, reminding him of the day he had been captured. He glared at the warriors of the Twenty-first as they pulled down the tailgate, letting the board swing down on wooden hinges. One of the men rested his spear against the back of the wagon and clambered aboard, while the other two waited to either side.

  The soldier came up to Ullsaard, produced a knife and quickly sawed through the bindings on the king's ankles.

  "Up," said the legionnaire, waving the point of the dagger towards the back of the wagon. Ullsaard rolled to his knees and was then able to push himself to his feet. He staggered a step, but the soldier made no move to help the king as he stumbled into one of the timbers holding up the frame of the cart's roof.

  Ullsaard eyed the spear left resting against the tailgate. The man with the knife was behind him, the other two soldiers distracted as another wagon rumbled past, Anglhan peering out from the covered back. With his mind's eyes, Ullsaard pictured what he would do. A kick would take out the soldier on the right, and the one of the left was standing close enough for Ullsaard to jump onto him from the cart. Ullsaard's breathing started to quicken and he felt the Blood pulse in his body, sending a surge of power to his limbs. He was older than his captors, but was a powerful runner. Three quarters of a mile, that was all he had to manage. He'd be down into the city proper, and despite the cold weather someone would be on the streets. There was always a chance…

  The image faded as the clanking of chains heralded the closing of the gates. There would be no mad dash for freedom. Anglhan huffed and sweated as he lowered himself down from the other cart, his red, round face the last thing Ullsaard saw before a sack was placed over his head.

  He was trapped.

 

Voices raised in heated argument woke Noran from his doze on a couch beside the fireplace in his apartment's reception room. Urikh had allowed him to take up his old residence, though the interconnected rooms seemed empty and quiet without Neerita, and he even missed Anriit's company. He opened his eyes and sat up as he heard the clatter of the bead curtain across the door. A soldier in the livery of the First entered, the white stripe in his helmet crest denoting the rank of second captain. Behind him loitered the head of the household servants, one of Ullsaard's former men, Ariid.

  "I am sorry, but he insisted on entering," the steward apologised with a forlorn flutter of a hand towards the soldier.

  "The king demands your presence, herald," said the captain. "You are to come with me."

  "It's an hour after Howling, what business can the king have that cannot wait until tomorrow?" Ariid asked as Noran got up. The herald echoed the question with his look.

  "The imposter masquerading as King Ullsaard has been apprehended," said the captain.

  It took a moment for the true meaning of the man's words to sink in. There was no imposter, it was a rumour fabricated by Urikh, so the only explanation was that Ullsaard had been brought to the palace. Noran scrutinised the soldier's expression but saw only obedient honesty.

  "Very well, take me to the king," Noran sighed. He looked at Ariid as he passed. "Please convey an invitation to Allenya and Meliu to meet me here in the morning. I am sure they would like to have the matter of this unpleasant impersonation settled firsthand from me."

  Another four legionnaires were waiting for Noran when he left his apartments. They escorted him in silence through the passages and halls of the palace, heading towards the Hall of Askhos. Coming to the great door of the hall, they knocked and awaited the call of the king. Opening the door, the captain waved for Noran to enter but did not step through himself.

  The first thing that Noran noticed was how slender Urikh looked sitting on the throne. His predecessors have been much larger of frame, and even in his failing years King Lutaar had been a larger man than the current incumbent. Noran saw the Crown on Urikh's head, and realised that the new king had been wearing it constantly.

  There was nobody else in the hall. The black marble walls, inscribed with the names of all who had fallen in service to the legions of Greater Askhor, made the vast chamber seem smaller. Noran's footfalls echoed dully as he approached the throne. The Crown intrigued him, and he tried to remember what Ullsaard and Lakhyri had told him in the half-dream of his fever coma. Noran had thought he had seen Askhos – in fact Ullsaard had said as much, and Lakhyri, he had been the founder of the Brotherhood. The Crown was key to this, Noran knew, but he had not listened very well to Ullsaard's attempt at an explanation. All Noran could recall was that Askhos had once used the Crown to achieve a sort of immortality. The herald wondered if the same was happening again. Was the man sitting on the throne really Urikh, or a puppet of a dead king?

  "You sent for me," said Noran, with a short bow. "Now I am here. Where is Ullsaard?"

  "I no longer require your services," said Urikh, in the same flat tone he had used to threaten the herald. "Men loyal to me have delivered up my father, whole and intact."

  As the king spoke, three men seemed to appear out of the wall behind the throne. A small door, hidden by a pillar, closed with a click. Noran recognised all three men. The first wore black hood and robes and his face was sallow, thin and carved with disturbing patterns and symbols. This was Lakhyri, who was now High Brother and had been the architect of Noran's escape from Magilnada. The second was a small, intimidatedlooking man whose eyes were fixed on Lakhyri: Governor Asuhas. The third brought a curl to Noran's lips and a clenching of fists; the blubbery form of Anglhan Periusis.

  "The company you keep has not improved, Urikh," said the herald, sneering at the newcomers. He used the king's name, subtly reminding him of the lifetime of acquaintance between them. "I remember when you were young; your friends had your better interests at heart. Now you surround yourself with sorcerers, liars and traitors. I hope you are not entrusting the future of the empire to these creatures."

  Urikh seemed more amused than angered by Noran's accusations. He turned in his throne and nodded to the new arrivals.

  "You come at an opportune moment," said Urikh. "I was just informing my herald of the change of circumstances that have rendered redundant his continued participation in my schemes. He has not yet learned what is to become of him."

  "Have you decided yet?" said Anglhan. "I think I may have a use for him. Or, I should say, I can think of a use for him that you might have. As your herald."

  "I would rather be killed than have a treacherous pig-fucker like you as my saviour," snarled Noran. He turned his attention back to Urikh. "Is Ullsaard alive? Where is he?"

  "My father is alive for the moment, but that is an inconvenience that will not last for much longer," said the king. The words were spoken archly, but Urikh's gaze was wandering, searching the upper reaches of the ceiling as if looking for something. Noran could not stop himself looking up, and though the hall was not brightly lit – a dozen lamps on chains hanging from the ceiling – it did seem that the shadows above their heads were thicker than expected.

  "Anglhan should tell you the new plan, as he devised it," continued Urikh.

  "My thanks for your indulgences, King Urikh." Anglhan's smile was as greasy as oil as he waddled up to the throne and lowered to one knee. His gut almost touched the ground as he leaned forwards to kiss the arm of the throne; a Salphorian abasement that had never been adopted by the Askhan kings.

  With deference made, no doubt as false as the rest of the former governor's behaviour, Anglhan heaved himself to his feet with a wheezing breath and stuck his thumbs into his belt.

  "Everything turns nicely into a full circle, my friend Noran," announced the Salphor. "Ullsaard was slain in battle, but thanks to the efforts of Governor Asuhas and the soldiers of the Twenty-first legion, his body has now been recovered. You will, of course, stand testimony to this course of events. In fact, in order that the empire be allowed to pay proper homage to their fallen king, his body shall be taken to the provinces and displayed for all to grieve over."

  "You are going to parade Ullsaard's corpse around the empire as proof?" Noran looked between Urikh and Anglhan, not sure which of them disgusted him more. "Look, I shall proclaim whatever you wish me to proclaim, there is no need for this insult to be heaped upon a dead man. Urikh, think of Allenya and your brother."

  "It will be harsh on them I admit," said the king, looking genuinely upset. "To see a loved one hacked and stabbed, in death an ugly thing that carries none of the beauty of the man as he was in life. It will be a hard moment to stand there with those he has left behind, but when they are convinced, it shall secure my claim to this Crown. None will dispute my right to it."

  After approaching the throne, Lakhyri had stood as still as a statue. Now he stirred, tilting his head slightly to one side. So immobile had he been, Noran was shocked by the sudden movement, and all eyes turned towards the High Brother.

  "We delay for no reason," said Lakhyri. He glared with golden eyes at his fellow conspirators, and each of them was unable to meet that unnatural gaze. "We also speak unwisely of plans not yet come to fruition. When Ullsaard is dead and the rumour of it becomes truth, we shall be content."

  "I shall arrange it immediately," said Anglhan. Receiving nothing but silence in reply, the Salphor nodded and shuffled back towards the hidden doorway. He disappeared behind the column and was gone.

  "You spoke of being chancellor?" Urikh said, looking at Asuhas, but with the occasional glance towards Noran, making a point. "This is the reward you seek for bringing Ullsaard to me?"