The Crown of the Usurper (42 page)

  Ullsaard grimaced, reminded of Jutaar's death. Thoughts of succession were far from his mind and in his irritation he snapped back at Noran.

  "Perhaps you should give more thought to your own affairs before delving into mine. What is your intent towards Meliu?"

  This time it was Noran's turn to make a sour face, reminded of matters he had been avoiding.

  "Well?" said Ullsaard. "When I have the Crown again, do I dissolve her position as my wife and release her to you?"

  "I am divided on the subject," Noran admitted. "Meliu would make a fine wife and I have deep affection for her, but we lay together in a moment of passion and I do not know if I would be the husband she desires. Also, I am still wed to Anriit. There are complications."

  It was clear to Ullsaard that Noran had concerns he had not voiced and the king was in no mood to accommodate the noble's half-truths.

  "It's not like you to worry yourself over the legal niceties of marriage. The fact that you fucked my wife proves that. Take her as your mistress if you want."

  "If it were that simple," Noran said with a sigh.

  "By nightfall I plan to be at the palace, you need to make up your mind quickly. When Urikh is in our custody and Lakhyri slain, I will have to head to Salphoria again, to settle matters with Aegenuis and reinforce our rule there. I am not staying around for you to make up your mind. Meliu is devoted to you as she once was to me, and she is both forthcoming in her affections and beautiful. What more could you want?"

  "A lover that did not once share the bed of my best friend?" Noran said, the words quiet and thoughtful. "A lover that will not remind me of yet another thing I have taken from you in my selfishness?"

  Noran's confession would have made Ullsaard laugh in better circumstances, but the king was aware that his friend's conflicted thoughts were in part caused by him. Before Ullsaard could reply, Noran continued.

  "I had found happiness with Neerita, and she was to bear me a son, but that was not to be. It occurs to me that you seek to give me one wife in exchange for the one I lost to your friendship."

  With a growl, Ullsaard grabbed the sleeve of Noran's tunic and dragged him from the road to stand beside a low wall. The following company of legionnaires glanced at their king as they marched past, but the shouts of their captains returned their attention ahead.

  "You still blame me for Neerita's death?" snarled the king. "Is that why you fucked Meliu? To take from me what you thought I took from you?"

  "If it was as simple, I would be glad," said Noran, dejected. He pulled himself from Ullsaard's grasp. "I once had a life of my own; a loving wife, estates, wealth and happiness. Now I am dependent upon you for the smallest kindness. That is not friendship, it is servitude. If you were not king, what would you have to offer me? And if you were not king, I am not sure I would follow you."

  Noran's words were like a punch in the gut, knotting up Ullsaard's stomach and causing him to take a sharp breath. He fought against the urge to lash out, to strike his friend for such disloyalty. Clenching his fists, the king instead turned away.

  "I have never demanded anything of you," he said, causing Noran to laugh.

  "Not in word, but by expectation. Why, only this spring you cajoled me into travelling all the way to Ersua for you, putting myself in danger for the purpose of deceiving Urikh. Did you once consider the hazards I would face? If my tongue and wit had failed me, I would be made prisoner by the Brotherhood, or worse. I delivered your message and misled Leraates, and for what? Have I had any thanks or reward for it? As a friend you are ungrateful, and as a king you have nothing to offer but empty promises."

  "When I regain the Crown, you can have any rewards that you desire," said Ullsaard turning back to his companion. "One of my wives is yours, if you desire her. Wealth? I will empty the coffers of the empire for you. Position? The empire stands with no governors, or perhaps you would prefer the rule of a Salphorian province? Do not question my generosity. To be an ally of the king is no small thing. Perhaps it is you that is fucking ungrateful."

  "Fuck you, Ullsaard," Noran said through gritted teeth, face flushing with anger. "You take everything and give nothing. You are a conqueror in heart as well as deed. You wish to possess everything for yourself, and all others exist to serve that ambition. At least Urikh is honest about his ambition, and his threats were openly made. Even now my family stands in danger, and you would have me lay them to sacrifice for your benefit. Do you know how easy it would have been to become his man? All the things you promise me were his to grant as well."

  "You are wrong," said Ullsaard, stung by the herald's words. "I have stayed true to those closest to me."

  "You betrayed Aalun and killed Cosua. You dealt with a toad like Anglhan at my expense and against my judgement. You gave Urikh power and money, and were bought off by Lakhyri's promises of loyalty. That has turned out so well for you."

  "Then why the fuck do you stay?" asked Ullsaard, slumping against the wall, his anger becoming sadness as the truth of Noran's accusations settled in his thoughts. Amongst the turmoil in his mind, the king was reminded that it was he that had made Jutaar first captain, promoting him beyond his measure when blinded by the desire to see his son succeed. He swallowed hard, grief threatening to take him. "Why didn't you turn on me and serve Urikh?"

  "Because I have seen what power Lakhyri truly serves, and through him they are Urikh's masters also. You are an unmitigated whore's cunt sometimes, Ullsaard, but you have always been your own man. The thing that I saw in the palace had a hunger that I cannot explain. I felt its power and its desire. It was… inhuman. You will grow old and die and pass on your rule to another, as was meant to be. Askhos, these strange creatures that placed him and Lakhyri above us all, they cannot be allowed to control the empire."

  Ullsaard considered these words carefully, convinced by the bitter words of Noran that his insights were deeply felt and the opinion voiced based on true conviction. If what the herald said was true, Urikh was not the greatest of the king's concerns.

  "A handful of years ago, I would have thought you a fucking madman," said Ullsaard. "Now I have a dead king living in my head, I have travelled through dreams to wake you from a deathly sleep and given to you half of my life-force. I have seen in Erlaan the nature of the powers Lakhyri entreats. This is not the world of men as we once knew it, but you must trust me. I will give every drop of my blood to keep the empire safe, whether from Urikh or darker powers."

  The king reached out a hand. Noran looked at it, his gaze moving between Ullsaard's outstretched palm and his determined stare. The herald shook his head slightly and Ullsaard thought that his friend would walk away.

  "You are a fucking arrogant, bullying arsehole of a man, Ullsaard," said Noran, gripping the king's wrist as Ullsaard's fingers tightened around the arm of the herald. "But at least you are a man."

  Still grasping his friend's wrist, Ullsaard looked to dawnwards and the pale smudge of Askhos on its distant hilltop.

  "Did I tell you how I single-handedly killed a behemodon?" the king said with a lopsided smile. "I don't care where they're from, these shadowy cunts have got more coming for them than they bargained on. I'll make them wish they'd never set eyes on my fucking empire."

 

The news that an army approached, possibly led by King Ullsaard, had started panic in the palace. Like a parchment touched by fire, the fear was spreading to the rest of the city. The gates had been closed and companies from the First and the Brotherhood's legion were stationed across Askh, enforcing a curfew decreed by Urikh. In the palace, soldiers guarded every doorway, and the servants scurried about their business with fearful glances at the black-crested legionnaires patrolling the corridors and hallways.

  Lakhyri had other concerns as he pushed open the doors to the Hall of Askhos. Within, he found Urikh and Luia deep in conversation. The king looked up as Lakhyri approached.

  "Where have you been?" Urikh demanded, rising from his throne.

  "Attending to the security of the city," Lakhyri replied. "Sit down."

  Urikh looked as though he would argue, but a whispered word from Luia made him comply with the high priest's demand. The king's mother looked at Lakhyri with narrowed eyes as he approached.

  "You intend to wait for Ullsaard's assault?" she said. "If I thought you were an idiot I would be concerned, but I know that you are not. Word comes that Ullsaard has five legions with him, so what defence do you have against his attack?"

  Lakhyri ignored her and addressed his next words to the king.

  "I am told that you attempted to leave the palace," said the high priest. "It is not safe for you."

  "I will not be caught like a rat in a trap, no matter what you caution against," replied Urikh. "Nor will I surrender calmly to my father's judgement. You assured me that Ullsaard would be dead, and now he is here, seeking my head upon a spear. You have failed me."

  "It is you that have failed," rasped Lakhyri, dropping all pretence of servitude. Acceding to the king's foolish scheming had been a bruise to Lakhyri's pride and now that the moment of truth was swiftly approaching, he could bear the charade no longer. "Do not forget who it was that placed you upon that throne, boy. If not for your interference, Ullsaard would have been upon his pyre a long time past. I told you what had to be done, but you would not listen."

  "It was you that thought Anglhan was suitable to the task," replied Luia.

  "A criticism that does not hold greater weight for being voiced so frequently," said the high priest. He turned his golden gaze upon the queen and she took a step back, alarmed by the hatred in his eyes. "You mistake your place in the new order that will rule the empire. Be thankful that I still require one of the Blood as my figurehead, to ease compliance to my wishes. Your continued presence is a salve to resistance, not a necessity."

  "Was it not you that came to me, asking for my aid?" replied Urikh. "I remember well the day that I first lay eyes upon you, while my father still waged war in Mekha. You told me that you would see me upon the throne of the empire and the Crown of the Blood upon my head." Urikh reached up to the gilded iron at his brow. "You warned me to be patient, and I was. As you promised, the rule of Lutaar failed, but then you placed my father upon the throne instead. Still you assured me that my time would come soon, but I watched as you raised up Erlaan, creating a half-Mekhani mongrel beast to take my place. They would destroy each other, you claimed, and the path would be set for me to ascend to my rightful position. My father failed you, and Erlaan failed you, but I held on to my desire and have delivered what they could not."

  "A tool long kept on the shelf only remains useful while its work is unfinished," said Lakhyri. "I was sent to you by the masters, and I found you, nurtured your pride and gave you coin and influence. The promises I whispered were nectar to your ambition, and you fed deeply upon it. My brother, with Aalun and Ullsaard, even Erlaan, were too focussed upon each other that they did not see the weaver working at the loom. All that has passed, not without delay or setback, has been as I desired. When I needed you, I used you. Hope that I do not need to replace the tool with one sharper and more fitting to the task."

  Possessed of a similar temperament to his father, Urikh did not take this bald statement well. The king rose from the throne again and took hold of the collar of the high priest's robe.

  "You are a weak, pathetic thing, Lakhyri. I may not be the warrior my father is, but I have enough strength in my grip to throttle the life from you."

  Lakhyri grinned, baring yellowing stubs of teeth.

  "Would that I needed to draw breath like some pitiful mortal creature, your threats would have foundation."

  "A spear or knife, then," suggested Luia. "Perhaps you would find immortal existence more testing without your heart or throat."

  "Do not waste time with this misplaced bravado," said Lakhyri. He felt the presence of the master coalescing in the hall; a drying of the air that he had become accustomed to during many long rituals. Luia gasped and raised a hand to her mouth as the Eulanui seeped up from the tiled floor, becoming corporeal as it spread out gangling limbs and sinuous fronds.

  "Perhaps you wish to beg for my protection?" Lakhyri asked as Urikh freed his grip and staggered back to the throne, stepping around an uncoiling tendril. The king looked to make some cutting remark but held his tongue, fear outweighing spite.

  COMING.

  The thought-message thundered through Lakhyri's brain, flaring with pain behind his eyes. Luia fainted from the mental assault, to fall draped over the arm of the throne. Hissing, Urikh attended to his mother, face flushed with pain.

  "Yes, my master, soon we will have prepared the way," the high priest gasped.

  The Eulanui continued to grow darker, the shadow of its body deepening. With rune-tainted vision, Lakhyri could see the sinews and muscles warping into existence, layering over contorted bone and cartilage. It reminded him of the awakening of the Last Corpse, but there was no such altar-node through which the master could manifest.

  "What is it doing?" snarled Urikh as snake-like appendages slithered across the hall, stretching from one wall to the next. Like some grotesquely hideous octopus pulling itself from its lair, the Eulanui heaved it bulk across the veil between realities. Eyestalks swivelled, crystalline orbs regarding Lakhyri, who saw himself reflected in a thousand mirrored facets.

  "It is too soon, master," said Lakhyri, falling to his knees. "There are still precincts to build, to extend the weave of your power. There is not the energy to sustain you."