Gav Thorpe - The Crown of the Conqueror

"They're gone!" he said, voice breaking.

Anglhan pulled the man to his feet, straightened his shirt and guided him towards his stool.

"Who is gone?" he asked.

"The queens, and even Aluuns!"

Anglhan's grip failed in his moment of shock, leaving Lenorin to fall to the floor again. A cold sweat ran down his back.

"Are you sure?" he said, fighting back panic. "Aren't they just out shopping?"

"Three of your men have been combing the city for them since this morning," confessed Lenorin. "One of the servants has confirmed that Noran Aluuns is no longer in his bed."

"Well, let's not do anything too hasty," said Anglhan, whilst trying to think of something hasty he could do. If Ullsaard found out about this, it was all over. "It's only been a few hours, they cannot have got far."

He looked at Lenorin, who was white as a cloud. He was shaking his head, seemingly in disbelief.

"What is it?" demanded Anglhan, grabbing the man by his shirt to haul him to his feet. "Is there something else?"

Lenorin shuddered from head to foot and looked as if he was going to vomit. It took him several attempts to speak.

"Talk amongst the merchants in the city," he managed. "A legion has been seen on the road."

"What legion?" said Anglhan. "My legions are nowhere near the city.

Lenorin's plaintive eyes were the only answer Anglhan needed.

"Close the gates, call out the guards, you idiot!"

Anglhan hurried to the door, waving for Lenorin to follow.

"Do these rumours say how far away this legion is?" Anglhan asked as he headed along the landing towards his chambers. He stopped and grabbed Lenorin by the shoulders, his next words a desperate shout. "Do I have time to get out of the city?"

The sky was darkening to dawnwards as the army marched into view of Magilnada. Cloud hung low above the peaks behind the city, the walls a bright white against the grey of the cliff against which it was built.

Ullsaard had considered long and hard how he would conquer this place, spending sleepless nights during the last year working out the best way to counter its defences. Even when he had been plotting and conducting the campaign against the Mekhani, his thoughts had moved to this place and the means to exact his revenge on the man who claimed rulership there.

"Shall we send a deputation to accept surrender?" asked Aalmunis, commander of the Fourth.

Ullsaard resurfaced from his dreams of vengeance to consider the question. He marched alongside Aalmunis and Hemmin, his counterpart in the Eighteenth, at the heart of the column, one legion in front and the other behind. Second captains followed a short way behind with the staff baggage, ready to disseminate the orders of their superiors.

"No," the king replied. "No offer of surrender."

"We are to retake the city by force?" said Hemmin.

"I don't make empty threats," said Ullsaard, remembering words he had spoken to Anglhan on the day of his investiture as governor. "And besides, this place has been a pain in the arse of Askh since it was built. Magilnada is to be destroyed. I want the city razed to the ground."

"And the people?" Hemmin's question was calmly asked, giving no hint of the commander's opinion on the matter.

"Kill them," said Ullsaard. "Any chieftains or persons of note are to be captured if possible. This place does not exist to me. Your legions are free to take what they want, goods and slaves, and then burn everything. Everybody else is to be slain. I want nothing but ash and dust by the time we are finished."

"As you command," chorused the two First Captains, showing no signs of hesitation.

The army continued its advance to within a mile of the city. Company by company the legions peeled away from the road to set up the siege. Wagons carrying the parts of catapults and spear-throwers gathered while crews and legionnaires crowded around to unload the war machines. Sawing and hammering and the swearing of labouring men cut across the evening air as the sun set and the barricades defending the legions' positions were erected.

Ullsaard made his camp directly opposite the gatehouse. A log palisade was thrown up around a dozen pavilions of the senior officers, Ullsaard's tent at the centre. He had sent his family back to Askh under escort. Their grief over the news of Jutaar's death was too fresh and harsh to bear, and he needed clarity not distraction. The tears of his farewell with Allenya haunted his inner thoughts, but his mind was focussed on the task at hand. There was no reason for his wife to witness the destruction and carnage that was going to be wrought in her name; it was enough that she was safe and honour would be satisfied on her account.

Feeling none of the rage he had experienced on hearing of Anglhan's betrayal, the king now viewed the razing of Magilnada as a necessary task to be performed. When he had Anglhan in custody was when he would let his true feelings be known.

Just as the last ray of the sun were dimming, there came news that the gates had opened and a delegation could been seen moving along the road. Ullsaard heard the calls from within his pavilion and hurried out, wondering if Anglhan had shown some uncharacteristic shred of decency and surrendered himself to save the city. He was not shocked to see that Anglhan was absent from the group of four men who were carried up the road on a large covered wagon pulled by two abada. At least twenty armed men accompanied them on foot.

"Let them enter the camp!" Ullsaard directed, heading towards the newly-constructed gate.

It was not long before the wooden gates opened to permit the delegation to enter. The warriors looked nervous, spears in hand, shields raised protectively around their masters. Ullsaard beckoned to a nearby second captain.

"Get me two hundred men with bellows-bows," he said. The officer nodded and set off at a run. Turning his attention to his visitors, Ullsaard strode in front of the wagon and stood with his hands on hips until they had clumsily disembarked over its high sides.

The four chieftains, for their fur cloaks, gold jewellery and enamelled helms marked them as such, took their places in a single line facing the king. Each was armed, but all four were even older than Ullsaard, one of them so frail he looked as if he might expire on the spot. The tallest, a black-haired, wiry man with a patch over one eye, took a step towards Ullsaard, a hand raised in greeting.

"King Ullsaard, I am J-"

"I would fuck a sow before I care for your name," snarled Ullsaard. "Wait there."

He turned his back on the delegation and stalked back to his tent, where he snatched up his spear from its rack and waited at the door. When he saw the bow-armed legionnaires arriving, he walked into view again.

"I'll give you each one chance," Ullsaard called out as he paced quickly towards the cluster of chieftains. He hefted his spear meaningfully. "Kill me man-to-man and save your city, or die like dogs, shot through with arrows."

The king stopped ten paces from the men, swapped his spear to his left hand and drew his sword.

"I'll give you a chance, I won't even use a shield," he told them. "Come on, one of you must be up for it!"

There was laughter from the legionnaires, who had circled around the group and formed a wall of shields behind which others stood with bellows-bows hefted to their shoulders. Out of the corner of his eye, Ullsaard saw some of the officers whispering and coin changing hands.

"It's a rich man that takes a bet against me," he called out.

"We're wagering which of these dogs has the balls to fight you," a third captain shouted back. "My money's on the ancient one."

There was more laughter, much to the fury of the chieftains.

"I have five Askharin that none of them have the guts for it!" Ullsaard glanced to his right and saw Aalmunis shouldering through a knot of his officers.