The Crown of blood

III

The two armies faced each other across a stretch of farmland filled with the green shoots of cereal. Ullsaard's legions were arranged in two lines of phalanxes along a ridge facing coldwards, the companies interspersed with lava-throwers, squadrons of kolubrid riders and batteries of spear throwers; Cosuas's much smaller force occupied a solitary hill, forming a complete circle about its summit like the Crown they protected. Half a mile separated the two hosts.

At the chime of Noonwatch, Ullsaard mounted Blackfang and rode out towards the enemy, spear slung behind him, sword sheathed. Though the sun was drying the ground, the rutted track he followed was as much stream as road. Cresting a rise on the road, he saw a lone figure breaking from the enemy army, walking slowly down the hill towards him. The man carried a mace in his left hand and a large oval shield in the other.

The two of them met at the gate of a farmyard halfway between the armies. Ullsaard dismounted, tied Blackfang to the fence and waited as Cosuas strode up the road. Ullsaard stood patiently with his hands clasped behind him as the aging general set his shield against a gatepost and slung his mace to the ground beside it.

"I expected to see you here," said Ullsaard. "But I don't know how you made it."

Cosuas gave Ullsaard a lopsided smile and his eyes were bright with excitement.

"Found the end of the Greenwater, lad!" he said. "Can you fucking believe it? Nearly fifteen hundred miles hotwards of here, we reached the sea. Golden sandy beaches, strange trees with nuts the size of your head. Got word of what you were up to, built some ships and sailed all the way up the dawnwards coast, round Nemuria, and landed last winter while you were still stuck in the snow. You've had me running between the Wall and the coast and back again with your tricks."

"Never have a straight fight if you can avoid it," said Ullsaard. "You taught me that."

Cosuas looked Ullsaard up and down.

"Not as big as your nuts, I reckon," Cosuas said. "What the fuck are you doing? You don't want to be king."

"I'm not your son," Ullsaard said. "Just thought you should know that. I'm Lutaar's bastard, one of the Blood."

Cosuas took this news with a nod.

"I never figured for that," he said. "I wasn't sure you were mine, you certainly don't look like me. Thought your mother got knocked up by some other man."

"Why did you save her? Why didn't you hand her over to the Brotherhood like you were meant to?"

Cosuas wiped a hand over his bald head. The breeze was cooling, but the sun was strong and both men were sweating in their armour.

"What can I say?" Cosuas said. "I loved your mother. I didn't know what the Brotherhood would do with her, but I knew none of the poor bitches sent to the Grand Precincts came back. I didn't want that to happen to her."

"And during all those years we campaigned together, you never said a word about it."

Cosuas shrugged.

"It wasn't my place. If your mother wanted her secrets, who was I to stop her? What good would it have done?"

Ullsaard crossed his arms and nodded in agreement.

"That's the past," he said. "We need to talk about the future. Don't fight me."

Cosuas said nothing.

"I know you like to see yourself as the simple general, but you can fucking count!" snapped Ullsaard, stepping towards his mentor. "I've got ten legions; you've got what? Four? Five?"

"Four and a half," Cosuas replied. "In a superior defensive position."

"Bollocks! You could be on a fucking mountain and you couldn't even those odds."

"If you're so sure, why are we talking?"

"Don't let me beat you," said Ullsaard. "What's Lutaar to you, anyway? He's just some cunt whose family killed yours. What do you owe him?"

"My allegiance," growled Cosuas. He waved a hand angrily at Ullsaard. "That's your problem, you traitorous shit. Your word is worthless. What have you done? You think you've solved something? All you've done is reduce the empire to a bauble that men can scrap and claw at each other over."

Cosuas took a few paces away and turned on Ullsaard, spittle flying from his lips.

"Don't you fucking get it, Ullsaard? You've broken everything! What happens the next time a general doesn't like his orders and decides to get even? What happens when a governor thinks he might just raise a legion or two of his own to settle an argument with his neighbour? Askh, the Crown, the Blood, none of it means anything if you take it for yourself."

"I am of the Blood," said Ullsaard. "I have been denied my inheritance."

"That's funny, I thought you were spawned and raised by a court whore in Enair, and succeeded with your own blood and fucking sweat. Doesn't that count for anything?"

Ullsaard would have laughed if it had been anyone else saying these things.

"It's that same blood and sweat that's got me to where I am now. I have earned this day, friend. I will become king."

Cosuas turned his back again. Ullsaard called out to him.

"You don't have to join me. Just don't get in my way. There's no need for you to get involved. Let me pass, march your troops back down the Greenwater and spend the rest of your life by the sea. I don't fucking care, do whatever you want to do, just don't make me destroy you. You don't deserve that."

"You want to do something for me?" said Cosuas. He picked up his mace and shield and squared off. "Give me a chance to end this now."

Ullsaard shook his head as the old general beckoned him closer with his shield.

"Why not?" snarled Cosuas. "Afraid?"

"I don't want to kill you," said Ullsaard. "Don't you understand?"

"Why not?" Cosuas said with a shrug. "If I let you do this, what's the point in staying alive? I swore an oath to the king and the empire. That actually means something to me! I can't serve you, and I can't turn the other way and let you destroy Askhor. This is my only choice."

Ullsaard picked up his shield and spear and trudged away.

"Ullsaard!"

The general stopped and looked back. Cosuas was striding down the road after him, mud splashing up his bare legs, caking his sandals. Ullsaard continued to walk away.

"You have to kill me, Ullsaard! It's either now, or your men do it on that hill!"

That stopped him. He looked at Cosuas, saw desperation and hurt in his eyes. Cosuas knew he couldn't stop Ullsaard, but he couldn't bear the shame of failing in his duty. It would be a worse fate for Cosuas to see his army routed and survive with that knowledge.

"All right," said Ullsaard, turning back, hefting his spear into a fighting grip. "I'll make it quick."

"You fucking wish you could!" shouted Cosuas, breaking into a run.