The Crown of the Usurper (36 page)

  "I am a general with the authority of King Ullsaard, and if you do not dismiss your men they will be killed."

  "King Ullsaard is dead." Taarik looked nonplussed, perhaps thinking that Anasind had not heard the news. "Killed in Salphoria, general."

  "What you have heard is wrong, captain, or worse you have been deliberately misled," Anasind said patiently. He harboured no desire to butcher the blackcrests just for doing their duty, and wanted to give Taarik every opportunity to see sense.

  The captain looked around again and Anasind did likewise, seeing that there were nearly ten companies in the square now, more than one and a half thousand men. They held a line to the left and right of the general, arranged two companies deep facing the precinct.

  "You have done everything you can," Donar said, patting Taarik on the soldier in paternal fashion though the captain was clearer his elder. "Honour satisfied, duty done. Tell your men to walk away."

  "How would you like to be a captain in a proper legion again?" said Anasind. "We are always looking for good officers in the Thirteenth."

  "I am too old," replied Taarik. He looked back at his men. With a solemn expression, he lowered to one knee and presented his spear to Anasind. "But not so old that I don't value the years left to me. I cannot stop you entering the precinct, and I would not throw away the lives of my men. That they have stayed this long proves their courage."

  "And no man will be punished for doing his duty," said Anasind, waving for Taarik to stand up, allowing him to keep his spear. "If you wish to remain after we depart and take up your protection of the town again, I would appreciate it, as would the rightful king."

  Having seen the capitulation of their captain, the remaining men of the blackcrests started to move away from the precinct steps, a few at first, the rest joining them after a few moments' consideration. When the way was clear, Anasind raised a hand to attract the attention of the company captains. The rain started falling more heavily, pattering from the armour of the assembled soldiers, splashing from the dark cobbles. With a wave towards the precinct, Anasind sent his men forward. The square resounded to their purposeful tread as company-by-company they advanced on the ziggurat. Anasind had ordered that the building be taken without harm befalling any of the Brothers or others inside and the captains were doing their job well, ensuring that none of their men became carried away by an unseemly rush.

  The doors were not barred and the men of the first company up the steps entered without pause, and soon lines of soldiers were gathering while others took up position around the building to stop anybody from slipping away.

  When nearly half of the companies had entered, the steps were cleared, allowing the first prisoners to be brought out. Brothers in their black robes filed out of the doorway, eighteen of them. These men were quickly surrounded by soldiers and separated, each company taking a few prisoners away and passing them from one group to another until the Brothers were held apart on the side of the square furthest from the precinct. Anasind watched all of this without comment, pleased to see that no violence had been necessary.

  The first batch of Brothers was followed a while later by several legionnaires escorting two men. One had the robes of a Brother, the other was dressed in a shirt, tunic and kilt. Unlike the other prisoners, these two were brought hurriedly towards the general. As they approached, Anasind saw the flash of a silver mask beneath the hood of the Brother, but it was the other man that attracted his attention. Anasind's astonishment made him call out.

  "Noran? What are you doing here?"

 

Leraates had decided that his best policy was to say as little as possible. He would answer the questions put to him as honestly as possible – without implicating himself in the deception of Ullsaard's death – but would volunteer no further information. It was timely that Urikh's herald, Noran Astaan, had arrived shortly before the Brother had returned, bearing important news concerning Ullsaard's next moves. There had been just enough time to communicate with Lakhyri to warn of the legions' return and to receive confirmation that Noran was under the sway of the current king. Having passed on the orders that Noran intended for Anasind, Leraates knew that there was no more he could do for the cause and every effort of his was now steered towards ensuring his continued survival.

  "You are a welcome sight, general," said Leraates, bowing his head. "Too long has Greater Askhor been without its leaders."

  The general ignored the Brother and focussed his attention on Noran Astaan. The two were well known to each other, and Leraates was curious to see if the herald still held Anasind's confidence.

  "A sentiment I echo," said Noran, extending a hand in greeting. Anasind gripped wrist-to-wrist with the herald, somewhat hesitantly. He then smiled and stepped closer, slapping his companion on the back. Noran darted a smile at Donar. "Good to see you too, First Captain."

  "Likewise," said the general. "I feared you might be caught up in all of this somehow, but I am pleased to see you still alive. Ullsaard's always favoured your advice."

  Hidden behind his mask, Leraates smiled briefly. He cast his gaze downwards the moment Anasind turned towards him.

  "What of this man? Can you vouch for him?" Leraates looked at Noran, but Anasind continued before any answer was given. "I received warning from the king that the Brotherhood is being influenced by Urikh and the Brothers are not to be trusted."

  "A sad truth, for most of them," said Noran, causing Leraates' breath to catch in his chest. The Brother flexed his fingers in agitation and darted another look at the herald through the eye slits of his mask. Noran appeared flippant, but as the herald's gaze passed over Leraates the Brother saw just a flicker of movement; a hint of a reassuring wink. "This is Brother Leraates, and he has been most helpful in combating the scheming of Urikh, Asuhas and others. If not for his actions, Ullsaard would have been waylaid the moment he reached Ersua."

  Anasind raised his eyebrows at this testimony and looked searchingly at Leraates, not entirely convinced. If Noran misspoke now, he would condemn them both, but the herald continued almost glibly.

  "I do not know what Ullsaard sent to you, I was not with him at the time, but there is a lot I have to tell you. Did you know that Anglhan survived Magilnada?"

  "Anglhan's alive?" Leraates let out a slow breath as the attention of the general moved back to Noran.

  "Not so much these days, but he was around for a while," said the herald. "We really have a lot to catch up on, we cannot waste any more time." He started to walk past Anasind and then stopped. He fished into his tunic and brought out the wax tablet with Ullsaard's orders and handed it to Anasind. "Your commands from the king. We need to discuss them in private, though."

  Noran continued to step forwards, and the general moved with his progress, turning his back to Leraates. It was simple thing, but the Brother admired the easy manner in which Noran could manipulate the attention of those around him with a word or gesture. His family held hostage to guarantee compliance, Astaan was a valuable ally to have.

  As he had hoped, Leraates saw his future brightening again. With Noran's approval, he would be accepted into the counsel of the general. The road to Geria was well known and Urikh had enough time to move his loyal legions into position to prepare an appropriate welcome for the returning legions of Anasind.

 

From a wooded hillside overlooking the villa, Erlaan-Orlassai gazed down at the lair of his prey, considering his options. The men and women tending the vines had returned to their cottages, and he could see no armed men patrolling the grounds of the house. He had not seen Ullsaard during the day he had spent watching, and the lack of guards made the Prince wonder if the sense he had of the Blood nearby was to be trusted.

  He put aside his doubts and set off down the hill; the only way to be sure would be to enter the villa. He skirted along the edge of the terraces, easily climbing over the low walls that separated the vineyard from open country. There were lamps in the buildings, glowing through the gaps in the shutters, and as he neared the grounds of the villa another window lightened ahead of him in the main house. Effortlessly vaulting a hedgerow, he entered the gardens.

  The scuff of a boot on gravel caught his attention and he froze, looking to his left from where the noise had emanated. Light spilled across a paved area from an opening door and a man stepped outside. The man pulled on a heavy coat – the spring nights were still cold – and started across the courtyard.

  Sensing an opportunity, the Prince sped quickly behind the man and clamped a massive hand across his face. Grabbing the back of his coat, Erlaan-Orlassai easily lifted the man from his feet and pulled him back into the shadows. The captive's struggles were fruitless against the Prince's inhuman strength though his flailing feet caught on the Prince's armoured legs with a dull thumping.

  "Be still or I shall snap your neck," whispered Erlaan-Orlassai. The man went limp, immediately cowed by the words that came from the Prince's sigil-inscribed tongue. "That is better, my friend."

  Releasing his grip on the coat, Erlaan-Orlassai stayed out of sight behind the man for the moment, still covering his mouth – the shock of seeing the Prince's altered body would work against the effect of his enchanted words.

  "I am going to ask you questions and you will answer them," the Prince said quietly. "You will not call out or turn around."

  The captive nodded dumbly and Erlaan-Orlassai released his grip.

  "What is your name, friend?"

  "Houran. I am Houran, the estate overseer."

  "Good, then you will be able to tell me what I need to know. Is Ullsaard here?"

  "Yes, the king is here. He arrived about twenty days ago."

  "And where is he now?"

  "The main bedroom is on the corner," said Houran, pointing towards a wide window beside a set of double doors leading onto the main courtyard. "He retires early and wakes at dawn."

  You can take a man out of the legions, Erlaan-Orlassai thought, but you can never take the legions out of the man.

  "How many soldiers does he have with him?" asked the Prince.

  "None, there are no soldiers here," replied Houran. "I thought to hire some men from the town but he said not to; that it would attract attention."

  This was good news indeed. Erlaan-Orlassai gently laid a hand on Houran's shoulder. The man flinched at the touch and made the mistake of glancing down, seeing the claws and extra knuckles of the Prince's digits.

  "Wh-what manner of man are you?" he gasped. His body started to tremble but the lingering power of the Prince's words stopped him from looking back.

  "I am your master, Houran. You will return to your home, go to bed and not wake until morning. If you remember me at all, it will be as if you dreamed our encounter. Do you understand?"

  "This is a dream? Yes, that must be so. I am in bed and dreaming."

  "Return to your slumber now, friend." Erlaan-Orlassai gave Houran the slightest push, propelling him back towards the open door. He watched, ready to pounce and silence the man in a fatal fashion, but Houran tottered back to the threshold, paused and then stepped inside. The door closed quietly and Erlaan-Orlassai set off at a run, heading straight for the bedroom of Ullsaard.

  He reached the door and carried on another two steps, stopping by the windows. Crouching to hold his ear against the slatted wood, he listened for a few moments. He could hear footsteps padding back and forth across bare boards and the rustle of cloth. The footfalls moved out of the room briefly and he waited, taking slow deep breaths to calm himself. The sensation of the Blood was strong and he was sure it was Ullsaard making the noise. When the footsteps returned, the Prince straightened and reached out, his arms long enough to stretch from one edge of the window to the other.

  Seizing the wood, Erlaan-Orlassai applied his considerable muscles, ripping both shutters from their mountings in one motion. Tossing them aside he looked into the room.

  Ullsaard was standing over a low cupboard, naked but for his sandals. The former king turned, eyes widening as ErlaanOrlassai clambered through the window, and it was then that the Prince noticed the sword in Ullsaard's hand.

  "I thought I heard someone," said the usurper, springing at Erlaan-Orlassai, the point of his sword spearing towards the Prince's throat.

  The giant met the blade with the vambraces on his left arm, as his right hand gripped around the hilt of his own blade. Ullsaard was unbalanced by the powerful parry, but he turned his potential fall into an awkward roll as the Prince pulled free his sword.

  Crouching, Ullsaard lashed out at the Prince's groin, but the blade caught only the beaten bronze on his thigh. Erlaan-Orlassai swung his sword at his opponent's head, missing by a hair's breadth as Ullsaard ducked back. The usurper's blade came up to meet the Prince's next thrust, but the force of the blow sent Ullsaard's sword flying from his grip.

  Backing up, the former king stopped as he reached a curtained wardrobe. Erlaan-Orlassai grinned, showing rows of pointed teeth.

  "You should have killed me while you had the chance," said the Prince, bringing back his sword for another swing.

  Ullsaard dived forwards under the blow, wrapping his arms around the Erlaan's Orlassai's thigh. The grapple was perfectly timed, hitting the Prince's leg as he shifted his weight, and it was enough to send him backwards. He fell onto the bed, crashing through the frame in a spray of splinters. Lashing out with his other foot as Ullsaard dodged back, Erlaan-Orlassai caught the usurper in the side and he felt ribs giving way under the impact. With a yelp of pain, Ullsaard flopped to one side, grimacing.