The Crown of blood

II

Ten thousand legionnaires formed a guard of honour for Ullsaard and Anglhan as they paraded along the narrow street through the centre of Magilnada. Ullsaard wanted to put on an impressive show and Jutiil had not failed him. The men looked pristine and a good crowd had been turned out, although the reception of their new governor veered towards the sullen rather than celebratory. It didn't matter to the general; the whole point of the investiture was to make it plain to even the dullest Magilnadan that Anglhan was in charge, backed by an Askhan general with a large number of well-trained soldiers.

Ullsaard glanced across at the new governor as Anglhan waved to the crowd, a beaming smile on his face. The general knew that inside Anglhan's mind gears were turning like the machinery of a mill, looking at every possible means to gain an advantage. He was a slippery ally at best, but he was also the most useful one Ullsaard had at the moment, out of a very slim choice.

In a way, Ullsaard had Murian to thank for his recent success. If it hadn't been for the governor's complaints about Magilnada, Ullsaard might have never realised the importance of the city to the duskward and coldward provinces. While Nalanor, Maasra and Okhar were self-sufficient, the newer regions were still developing their irrigation and their farms, clearing space for settlers. It took several generations to get a province into full working order, and that vulnerability had given Ullsaard his chance.

With the half-hearted shouts of the Magilnadans ringing from the high buildings alongside the street, Ullsaard wondered if he'd been lucky so far. Was it luck that Urikh had been involved in an insurrection against Magilnada's rulers? Perhaps there was an element of fortune about it, Ullsaard decided, but he was sure that what had come next had come about from good planning and hard work. Provinces didn't capitulate to a general because of luck.

They reached the steps that led to the first level of the richer residents' houses, where a wooden stage had been built overlooking a wide plaza. Behind a cordon of armed soldiers, the people of Magilnada followed the procession and filled the square.

Was it luck? The question continued to irk Ullsaard. If he had been lucky so far, that made the future that much more uncertain. It was certainly luck, or fate, that Kalmud had fallen ill, but Ullsaard had been well-positioned to exploit the opportunities as they arrived.

He ascended the steps to the stage behind Anglhan, shield and spear in hand, and stood to one side as the governor moved to the front and raised a fist above his head. The assembled legionnaires beat spears against shields and raised such a shout that the square was filled with noise.

Anglhan motioned for silence and the legionnaires quit their clamour immediately. Ullsaard allowed his thoughts to wander further as Anglhan launched into what would undoubtedly be a long and tedious speech. Ullsaard was a more direct orator and believed in three simple things: inspire the men, tell them what you want, and tell them what they get out of it. Anglhan was of that breed of men who loved the sound of his own voice, and Ullsaard listened vaguely as the governor went on at length about a new age of prosperity, a dawn of renewed civic pride and the welcoming of a time of plenty for all.

Suppressing a yawn, Ullsaard tapped a marching beat on the haft of his spear. The sun was bright, the sky cloudless. It would be a great day for a battle, and Ullsaard wished he was many miles away in Nalanor, hunting down Nemtun. He had left Anasind in charge of the legions, camped three days duskwards of the Greenwater. There was no point in moving any further towards Askh until Ullsaard knew where Cosuas and his legions could be found. To advance without that knowledge was asking to be trapped. It was also the reason Ullsaard wanted to move full legions raised from Magilnada, so that should it come to a straight fight against Nemtun and Cosuas, Ullsaard could at least match their numbers.

But nothing had been heard of Cosuas since he had left Maasra. No soldier, no farmer, no trader had heard anything of the legions fighting to hotwards. Perhaps the king had underestimated Ullsaard initially and ordered Cosuas to stay on campaign, but that seemed increasingly unlikely. What worried Ullsaard was the idea that Cosuas had found some route back into Greater Askhor, perhaps circling hotwards of the Mekha desert and coming back through the mountains duskwards of Okhar. Even now, Cosuas could be marching on the rear of Ullsaard's army.

Though the general's instinct was to go for the killing blow now, he was reluctant to strike while Nalanor, Okhar and Maasra were still loyal to Lutaar. As it was, Ullsaard controlled half of the empire, but by far it was the poorer half. If he delayed too long, more legions would be raised against him in an escalation of armies he couldn't hope to match, but if he acted too swiftly, his blow might fall astray; and he reckoned he would have only one chance at victory. Any significant defeat, any hint of weakness, and his support from Murian, Allon and Kulrua would evaporate quicker than an Enairian morning mist.

With some relief, Ullsaard realised that Anglhan had just about finished his inaugural speech. He was announcing three days of celebrations, more donations to the shrine gardens, and ended with a general call to all men of strong arm and fair mind to enlist in the new legions.

"Imagine the glory that awaits such men," said Anglhan. "The first of a new breed of legionnaire, a place in history. The Askhan legions have proud traditions and they pay good gold for those that place their lives in danger for their fellow men. Such are the benefits of the Askhan way — food and a livelihood for you, money for your families. No longer will you have to toil in field or workshop for little reward, only to be asked to put down your hammer and scythe for a spear. You will be numbered amongst the most powerful army in the world, the Magilnadan First."

Ullsaard shifted uneasily at this announcement. Legions belonged to all of Greater Askhor. Even though he defied the king and waged war against other legions, Ullsaard was still firm in his belief that he did so for a better Askhan future. Anglhan's two legions were to be the Nineteenth and Twentieth, raised and trained and equipped by legal means, not the private army of Magilnada.

Ullsaard cleared his throat meaningfully and stepped up beside the governor. Anglhan glanced at the general and brought his speech to a hurried close. Ullsaard lifted his spear above his head.

"Magilnada, I salute you!" he cried. "For generations you have laboured under the tyranny of weak kings and self-serving nobles. This day things change. This day you become Askhans. To be an Askhan is to be proud of where you were born, but also to put the good of all above the wants of the few. I am an Enairian and also an Askhan. I grew up in a small village in the forests coldwards from here. Only in Greater Askhor could I have dreamt of becoming who I am today. Each of you can hold that same dream. To be master of your destiny; to raise your children without fear; to feed your families every day.

"I too have suffered from the cruel indifference of a distant king. I am not a meek man, and so I do not sit at the table and grumble into my wine about it. No, I am a man of action more than deeds, and I will march to Askh and take the Crown of the Blood from the head of a man who does not deserve to wear it.

"I can make a promise to you today. Every man of Magilnada who joins my legions and marches with me through the gates of Askh will have done his duty. I will give him a house and a farm, and money for crop and livestock. One year with me guarantees freedom and prosperity for the rest of your lives!"

This announcement drew a far greater reaction than all of Anglhan's long-winded endorsements. The legionnaires began to chant Ullsaard's name, and their enthusiasm spread into the crowd. Raising shield and spear high, Ullsaard turned to the left and right, basking in the growing cries of adulation. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Anglhan looking on with jealousy. Ullsaard directed a cocky wink towards the new governor as a reminder: the power is mine, not yours.