The Crown of blood

II

It was the fourth hour of Gravewatch and Ullsaard was already awake and eating his breakfast. No doubt roused by the commotion of the servants preparing the meal, Jutaar wandered into the small dining room, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, clad in a robe hastily belted.

"You should have warned me it would be an early start," said Jutaar, sitting to his father's left and reaching for a jug of fruit juice. "I would have had the servants wake me properly."

"Early start?" Ullsaard laughed. "You should feel lucky that you're not Anasind. He's been working all night. If you're quick, you can come with me when I join him at Dawnwatch."

"Working all night? Doing what?"

"Come and have a look," said Ullsaard.

He led Jutaar to the wide doors leading out onto a veranda overlooking the harbour. Throwing open the doors, the general stepped outside, his son just behind. The air was cool but not cold, dawn struggling to break through the clouds of Nemuria. Ullsaard waved a hand towards the town below. Bearing lanterns and torches, legionnaires were moving through Askhira from its hotwards tip along the harbour, spreading through the city like runnels of flickering light. There was a greater glow around the three-tiered ziggurat of Askhira's precinct building.

Despite this nocturnal activity, the town was quiet, a sea breeze sighing over the rooftops.

"What are they doing?" asked Jutaar.

"Looking for the Brotherhood, of course," replied Ullsaard. "We did the same in Parmia, Narun, Lepriin, and half a dozen other places. You'd be surprised by the number of them that kept their robes in a chest or under the bed. We've found silver masks on mantels and Brotherhood scrolls in drawers."

"You're searching the whole town?" Jutaar leaned over the rail of the veranda and peered into the streets below. "That's why you brought the Thirteenth?"

"I've got legions spread across all of Greater Askhor keeping a watch for trouble. Donar has the Fifth in Narun, Jutiil's in Parmia, Luamid had the Sixteenth in Geria, plus the two new Magilnadan legions are keeping an eye on things in Ersua and Okhar. Just a precaution."

"What will happen to those Brothers you find?" Ullsaard joined his son at the rail.

"I'm sending them all to the camp outside Parmia, where they can't do any trouble. The most senior ones tend to put up a bit of a fight and we have to make examples of them. I can't have anyone undermining my claim to the Crown."

"What sort of examples?"

Ullsaard wondered, not for the first time, if Jutaar was really suited to the legions. He laid a hand on his son's shoulder.

"We slit their throats, Jutaar."

"Killing Brothers?" Jutaar was aghast at the suggestion. "Is that really wise?"

"Only a few," Ullsaard replied with a half-shrug. "You'll be surprised the number of them that decide to get out of town when word of that gets around. It saves us the trouble of hunting them down."

"But killing Brothers… If you become king-"

"When I become king," Ullsaard interrupted. "You're worried that I'll lose the Brotherhood? I don't think so. Lutaar and Udaan have them agitated at the moment, but things will return to normal once I have the Crown. The Brotherhood is dedicated to Greater Askhor before any particular king. They may be upset with me for a while, but the empire will continue and they'll see that I am not their enemy."

"And what about the people of the empire? If they learn you've been killing Brothers, what will they think?"

Ullsaard was not sure whether Jutaar was being dim-witted or fearful. Either way, his son's reluctance to accept the facts as they were was wearing the general's patience.

"The people will do what they're fucking told!" he snapped. "That's the other reason the Thirteenth are here. There will be a curfew for the next ten days, enforced by penalty of death. We'll flood the town and docks with legionnaires from the Thirteenth and Tenth and remind these people who is in charge here. Askhira needs reminding that their governor supports me and that means that they do as well."

Ullsaard realised his temper was getting the better of him. Noran had warned that the general could not just order people around as if they were his army. Taking a deep breath, he turned to face Jutaar and leaned casually on the rail, trying to appear calm.

"Look, you've been very good to these people, son," he explained, hoping that some of what he had to say would settle in Jutaar's slow-moving brain. "We've paid them well, brought a huge amount of work and commerce to the harbour, and what have they given in return? They've been muttering and conspiring against you, ignoring your offers and disrespecting your position as my representative. If they refuse to do what they are told when we treat them well, they'll swiftly learn of what else we have to offer."

"I suppose you can't have discipline without the threat of punishment," said Jutaar. "As a captain I'm always quick to enforce the regulations."

"That's right, son," said Ullsaard. "When they see what the alternative is, these people will be grateful to have the kind and understanding Jutaar in charge again. And just like the way a company works, most folks in Askhira will start to take care of the matter themselves. After the next ten days, nobody here will want me coming back, so they'll cast out any Brothers that stay behind, as well as anyone else that wants to upset the wagon."

Realisation crept across Jutaar's face like the dawn spreading across the harbour.

"It's a bit like when Urikh and I were kids," he said. "He was always saying 'I'm telling Father what you did', even when I hadn't done anything wrong."

"Yes," said Ullsaard. "But when I've left and you need to remind people of the consequences of ill discipline, I wouldn't use those exact words."