Gav Thorpe - The Crown of the Conqueror

"What happened to you?" he demanded.

"Nothing important," said Aleoin, taking a step toward the door. Aegenuis grabbed her wrist and turned her back. He said nothing, but his intense stare repeated the question. "Last night, some men came for me on the way back from the market. They beat Cassuli and raped me. One of them said his seed would make a stronger king than any son of yours."

Aegenuis's first instinct was to demand to know who had done such a thing, but he stopped. What would be the point, he asked himself. By the sound of things, nobody in Carantathi, probably all of Salphoria, considered him king any more.

He corrected himself. The man who had come to him that morning, Furlthia; he had called Aegenuis 'king' and promised something that would stop Ullsaard and his Askhan dogs. Aegenuis could not remember exactly what had been said.

"I have to go to the long hall," he muttered. "Not sure why. Something about Ullsaard."

"You should eat first," said Aleoin.

"Later. You should find yourself a priestess of the dove; make sure you haven't been left with something by those bastards."

"I will, father." Aleoin looked uncomfortable. "It might not be Ullsaard that we have to worry about. If Medorian can get the chieftains to support him, he'll have you killed, maybe all of us."

"Medorian's a fool if he thinks he can get the chieftains on his side at the moment," said Aegenuis. He cast about the room for his cloak but could not see it. Opening the door, he turned back to Aleoin. "Never mind the Askhans; it's the chieftains that are the worst enemies of Salphoria."

Aegenuis left the house without looking for his wife or other daughters. Whatever he had done to them — and he could not remember any of it — his actions would take more than a swift apology to fix. He needed some air, now that his head was clearer than it had been for longer than he could recall.

Outside was cold. It was always chill in Carantathi, even at the height of summer. Perched atop a mount at the coldwards tip of the Ualnian Mountains, the Salphorian capital was constantly swept with wind and rain, the bare stone leeching away any warmth from the day while trapping the cold of night. There was cloud overhead, blotting out the stars and moons, draping the settlement with gloom.

Fires burned further down the hill and windows glowed with light, but there were dark patches where whole neighbourhoods had left with their ancestral leaders. There were even gaps in the areas where his own people, the Laeghoi, made their homes. Looking even further, the king could see warriors still patrolling the stone walls, passing through the glow of torches as they walked their rounds in small groups. At least someone still wanted to protect the city. The other houses arranged in a ring around the long hall stood empty. Looking down the spiralling street, no lights burned and no smoke drifted from chimney holes. Every other chieftain had left.

Looking across the street to the great hall right on the summit, Aegenuis could see that the doors were open and bright firelight flickered within. Shadows moved across the glow and he could hear loud chatter over the quietness of the rest of Carantathi. Curious, he hurried through the mud and up the wooden steps.

Within, the four men who had visited him earlier were sat at the table, eating and drinking. Platters of meat, loaves of bread and bowls of vegetables were laid out as if for a banquet. A few men and women were working at the fire pit, tending to half a roast pig and the great cauldron hanging over the flames.

Aegenuis recognised Furlthia, sitting to the right of the throne, where the king's heir would normally sit. All four of the men looked up as Aegenuis entered.

"So you think you can…" Aegenuis's rebuke died away as he saw the state of the hall. The dogs crunched fresh bones in the newly laid straw. The great chimney had been scrubbed; Aegenuis's embroidered banner had been strung between two poles behind the throne; the benches and table had been scoured clean and the gilded plates and cups gleamed in the light of a hundred fresh lamps.

The men stood together, the benches scraping across the floor. Furlthia raised his cup and the others followed.

"King Aegenuis!" Furlthia announced. "The blessings of the spirits upon this hall and its master."

Frowning with suspicion, Aegenuis stalked along the hall and sat in his throne, eyes never leaving Furlthia. The man passed a cup to the king with a short bow. Aegenuis sniffed the red liquid within, smelling rich fruit.

"Wine?" he said.

"Askhan wine, king," Furlthia replied with a sly smile. "From grapes that were grown in Ullsaard's own vineyards."

Aegenuis had to laugh. He took a mouthful of the wine and swilled it around his mouth before swallowing.

"It's good," said the king. "I must remember to congratulate that cat-fucker when he gets here."

"He won't get here," said one of the other men.

Aegenuis had not paid much attention to the man that morning. He was dressed in a hooded robe, much like the ones worn by some of the hermits that had dedicated their lives to the worship of one spirit or another. The cloth was a flawless black and hung from bony shoulders. The hood was drawn back, showing a face with high cheeks and a narrow nose; typically Askhan features.

The king balanced the cup on the arm of the throne, noticing as he did so that the grime had been cleaned from the deep grain of the wood and his lion's pelt cloak had also been freed from the muck and grime of drunken tumbles. He leaned towards his self-invited guests, hands in his lap.

"Tell me all your names," he said.

"I am Furlthia, as you know. The elderly man next to me is Serbicuis, a chieftain from the Altes hills. My companion in the robe is Leraates; an Askhan, as you have guessed. The last of us is Kubridias, until recently of Magilnada."

This last name Aegenuis actually recognised, though he could not recall the man. He was one of the chieftains of the Free Country; or had been, until Ullsaard had started his invasion.

A serf appeared at Aegenuis's shoulder, a bowl of chicken stew in hand. With a glance at Furlthia, he set the meal down before Aegenuis, brought a platter of bread closer and quickly retreated to a place next to the fire pit.

"You run my hall better than me," said the king. "Think that you might run my lands better as well?"

"Not at all," said Leraates. "It is because we want you to stay king, and Ullsaard to leave your lands, that we are here."

"Go on," said Aegenuis, waving a spoon at the Askhan, mouth full of chicken.

"Ullsaard does not have total support within Greater Askhor. His attack on Salphoria is against the wishes of many. We would rather the agreement of King Lutaar was maintained."

"I'm not the one that broke the treaty," said Aegenuis, dunking a fistful of bread into his stew. "You can take that up with your oath-breaking king."

"We plan to do better than that," said Leraates. He pushed his plate to one side and leaned his elbows on the table. "When Ullsaard is defeated in Salphoria, we will restore the true line of the Blood to its proper place."

"You have Kalmud somewhere, do you? Or maybe Erlaan."

Leraates was taken aback.

"Don't mistake a drunkard for an idiot," growled Aegenuis. "And I'm not drunk at the moment. Carry on."

"It's simple," said Furlthia, raising a hand to hush Leraates reply. "Ullsaard's rule in the empire is new and weakly held. It is only fear of his legions that brings him anything like loyalty from his governors. Without the threat of the Askhan armies, he is nothing. Those inside Askhor want to see him fail as much as we do. If we can deal a blow to Ullsaard in our lands there are those who are backing him that'll withdraw their support."

"Sounds fine when you say it like that," said Aegenuis. "Simple enough, yes. All I have to do is defeat the most powerful army in the world, and this Askhan cat-buggerer will do the rest?"