The Crown of blood

I

It was by far the most miserable winter Anglhan had ever experienced. Normally he would have been far to hotwards, trading between the Caelentha, Deaghra and Orsinnin tribes duskward of the Lidean Mountains. He found the biting wind intolerable and the frequent mountain blizzards a nightmare. His clothes stank, the food was terrible and the company stupid and predictable. Even thoughts of the chest full of gleaming askharins failed to cheer him up.

The debt guardian-turned-revolutionary spent as much time as possible in the caves, usually sitting beside a meagre fire with a cup of honey-sweetened hot ale and a blanket over his shoulders. He had cut three new notches into his belt on account of his thinning waist, and his hair was a straggly mess that hung past his shoulders. His crew had been all but disbanded, its members abandoning him for one chieftain or other. Only Furlthia and a few, older hands like Gelthius and Lepiris had decided against throwing in their lot with the brigands or hillmen.

For the moment at least, he told himself. Soon even they would desert him, he was sure of it.

Anglhan did not let his sedentary lifestyle affect his politicking. Out of habit more than any specific aim, he continued to keep the chieftains uneasy with each other, though he was always vocal in his support of Aroisius. Having bought himself the time he wanted, he was at a loss to know what to do with it. He had hoped something would occur that would provide him with an opportunity, but through the short, cold days and long, colder nights he began to doubt the wisdom of joining with the rebels.

When he confessed as much to Furlthia one night, his exmate was less than sympathetic.

"What did I say, before all this started? I warned you not to get involved and now we're up to our necks in shit. Come the spring, it'll be all hands on deck for an attack on Magilnada, and then where will we be left? You know Aroisius will do away with you the moment he thinks you're a threat or useless."

"I know, I know," Anglhan said with a sorrowful sigh. He looked past the fire to the snow-filled night beyond the cave entrance. Now and then a swirling gust brought a shower of white further into the cavern. The darkness and cold had gnawed away at his resolve and he wanted nothing more than to be far away, where the sun was still shining. "I took a gamble, that's all. I never said you had to come with me."

"And I'm even angrier at myself for sticking with you."

"Really?" Anglhan's expression showed the deep hurt he was feeling. Furlthia relented and patted Anglhan on the arm.

"Yes and no," he said. "I know you've always done right by me and you didn't mean nothing bad to come of this. I just wish you had listened to me."

The two of them sat in silence for some time; Furlthia poked the fire with a stick, Anglhan nursed his mug until the steam stopped rising from it.

"You should find out where Aroisius is going," Furlthia said.

"What? Aroisius is leaving?" Anglhan straightened up from the doze that had been settling over him. "How do you know?"

"I heard some of the others talking about packing for an expedition. I didn't hear where. They're leaving tomorrow."

"This won't do at all," said Anglhan, heaving himself to his feet, the blanket falling to the rocky ground. "I can't have him going off without knowing where."

The landship captain finished off his cold ale with a wince and tossed the empty mug to Furlthia. He looked around the cave, wondering where to start his investigations. There was the usual mix of cretins: escaped debtors; flat-faced hillmen; former turncranks from his crew; haggard womenfolk and noisy children. Not one of the chiefs could be seen. Time was short, so Anglhan decided that the direct route would serve him best.

With a huff of trepidation, he pulled his cloak tighter and ventured out into the snowstorm. His ears were burning within moments, eyes watering and cheeks reddening. He turned right, towards the head of the valley, and forced himself through the flurries of snow.

He passed two cave entrances glimmering with firelight and stumbled on, almost losing his footing on a snow-buried rock. It was another fifty paces to his destination and by the time he reached the shelter of the cave mouth, his whole face was numb and his boots wet. He barely noticed, such was the allure of fresh activity.

The cave was much smaller than the one Anglhan had left, connected to many others by mine workings that delved deeper into the mountains and to internal galleries above. He had explored a little of their workings, but such was their extent he doubted any of the rebels had fully mapped them. He had, during his deepest misery, toyed with the idea of trying to navigate his way through the depths to find another way out of the valley, but had been put off by the thought of spending so much time in the lifeless, confined tunnels.

A few of the chieftains' lieutenants lounged around a fire near the back of the cave but there was no sign of their masters. One of them looked up, his face pitted, one eye obscured by a drooping eyelid, and pointed to a tunnel branch off to the left, guessing Anglhan's intent. The captain waved his thanks and set off in the direction indicated.

Inquiries with the men in the next cave led Anglhan up a set of shallow steps into a long, narrow cavern. The weapons he had bought had been confiscated from the men and were stacked against the walls; to protect them from the elements and keep them out of the hands of the squabbling rebels until they were needed.

The next chamber contained the last of the preserved meat, which was carefully rationed out by the chieftains every few days. As he passed the barrels, Anglhan reckoned there to be only enough for a few more meals. After that, it would be stew made from tough roots and whatever was left of the dried grain. It was a prospect that fuelled Anglhan's desire to get out of the mountains even further.

He found Aroisius in the next chamber, with half a dozen of his chieftains. The cave was dimly lit by a handful of stubby candles, yet Anglhan's eye was immediately drawn to a small chest just behind the rebel leader; the one that contained the Askhan gold. Aroisius frowned at Anglhan as the captain ducked through the low entrance with a smile.

"You're not an easy man to find," Anglhan said.

"Not for you," replied Aroisius. "What do you want?"

"Wherever you are going, I want to come with you," Anglhan said. He was aware of the squelching his boots made as he crossed the cave to sit down next to the others.

"Really? And what makes you think I want you to come along?"

Anglhan blew on his cold fingers, his breath steaming in the cold air.

"To keep an eye on me, perhaps," he said.

"I do not think there is too much trouble you can cause here," replied Aroisius, though he smiled at Anglhan's honesty. "You do not even know where I am going."

"I can make a guess," said Anglhan, tapping the money chest with his toe. "You have friends who want to know why we aren't drinking your health in the beer halls of Magilnada."

Aroisius's smile disappeared.

"You are far too clever for your own good, Anglhan," said the rebel leader. He sat for a moment staring at the landship captain, one finger stroking his bottom lip.

"He's handy to have when you're bargaining," said Barias. "You should have seen him with that Salphor bastard with the weapons."

"Yes, you might prove useful," Aroisius said. "You have a way with persuasion that might be needed."

"Anything I can do to help," Anglhan said with a grin. "Just get me out of these spirit-cursed mountains. Even if it's just for a day!"