The Crown of the Conqueror

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Ullsaard had razed farms, villages, even towns, but he had never destroyed a whole city. A bank of oily smoke obscured the peaks behind Magilnada, blotting out everything around the city. Most of the flames were pyres, upon which the thousands of dead were burned. It had taken four days to take Magilnada; already five days had been spent collecting and disposing of the bodies. It was a grim task made all the more laborious because of Ull saard's instructions to check every corpse to identify Anglhan's body. So far he had not been found, and Ullsaard was depressed at the realisation that in all likelihood the former governor had somehow eluded him.

Those companies not detailed on the corpse-burning were at work with the engineers, levelling every building, pulling down the great curtain wall, shattering bricks and breaking up stone blocks. The sound of their labour rang far across the Magilnadan gap, and it would continue for many more days to come.

Ullsaard sat in his pavilion and worked out what to do next. There was so much debris to search through, it could take dozens of days before Anglhan's remains might be found, if they existed at all. Practicality had to triumph over vengeance for the moment; supplies were already moving dawnwards to the Askhan legions and the offensive needed to start again. There was nothing Ullsaard could do to hasten the discovery of Anglhan or help with the utter destruction of Magilnada. His duty was to rejoin his army after long absence and lead the attack on Carantathi.

"Happy with your handiwork?"

Looking up, Ullsaard saw Noran stepping into the cloth-walled chamber. Some of the colour had returned to his face, but he still looked weak.

"You should be resting," said the king, standing up to direct his friend to a chair.

Noran sagged into the canvas seat with a long exhalation. He took a moment to regain his breath.

"You have not answered my question," said Noran. "Are you happy now that Magilnada is destroyed?"

"Happy? No," said Ullsaard, sitting down again. "You know that I do not enjoy senseless slaughter. Satisfied, perhaps, but not happy. I'll be happy when I see Anglhan's mutilated remains hanging from a pole."

"A whole city killed for revenge against one man? That seems excessive, even by our standards."

"This wasn't just about Anglhan, though he was the reason it began," said the king. "I've destroyed Magilnada. When word of that spreads, who will dare to oppose my legions? I will send a message that any who choose to fight me will suffer the same consequences. I was too soft in my last approach. Not this time. We will do this the true Askhan way. Any that submit will be helped; any that resist will be slain. Even Aegenuis cannot ignore that message."

"Are you so sure that Aegenuis will receive the message?" said Noran. "Nobody is left alive to take it to him."

"He will get the message," Ullsaard assured his friend with a wry smile. "If not from the living, then from the dead. But enough of that, why are you here? You really should not be out of bed; your recovery is just starting."

"I am leaving," Noran said, meeting Ullsaard's gaze. "I cannot stay here."

"Is that wise?" said the king. "You don't look fit to travel yet."

"Yet travel I will," said Noran. "I will leave camp today. I would appreciate it if you could provide me with a small guard; I gather Askhans might not be too popular in these parts at the moment."

"Of course," said Ullsaard. "I can provide an escort back to Askh without any trouble. Twenty men should suffice."

At this, Noran looked away.

"I am not going to Askh," he said.

"Why not? Your family is there. So is Meliu, if you are still interested in her. Where else will you go?"

"To the villa in Geria. I cannot think to see my family at the moment, and though she is wonderful, I can do without Meliu's fussing too."

"Why leave at all? I know the campaign road is not comfortable, but I would be glad of your company on it."

At this Noran's face was creased by a pained expression. Ullsaard was out of his chair in a moment, crossing to his friend's side. He placed a hand on Noran's shoulder but it was shrugged away. Noran pushed himself up and stepped towards the door.

"I cannot stay," said the nobleman. "Not here. Not with you."

"Why not?" said Ullsaard, following after him. "Have I done something wrong?"

"Being near you is not good for me, Ullsaard!" Noran confessed, the words uttered through gritted teeth. "I love you like a brother, I suppose, but these last years, you have brought me pain and misery and little else."

"I am sorry," said Ullsaard, flushed with regret. "I thought that perhaps I had restored the balance, by giving you the means to live again."

"And that is the worst of all!" snapped Noran. "What do you think I see when I look at you? A friend? A king? No, I see the man whose own life diminishes by an hour for every hour that I live. I would end it now, if I was not such a coward, and if it would not make a mockery of the sacrifice you have made already. So, I have to leave. Seeing you is a torture to me. Thinking about what you have done, it torments me, more even than the death of Neerita and my son. Death follows you Ullsaard, and mine should have been counted amongst the toll, but you could not even allow me that."

"I had no idea." Ullsaard sought for the right words, for an argument, for something that would give Noran comfort. His mind was too tumultuous for any such thing.

"I do not know if I will ever be able to look at you again, as we both get older, knowing that I live only at your expense when I sought to save your life," said Noran. There were tears in his eyes as he reached the door and looked back, almost flinching at what he saw. "I do not blame you, Ullsaard. I do not hate you, though some would say I have reason to. You did not do this to me out of malice, but you ignored my wishes and we both have to live with the consequences."

Then he slipped outside, leaving Ullsaard alone. The king was stunned. He had never contemplated such a thing happening. Immediately his thoughts went to Allenya, and he wished again that he had not sent her away. He sat down in his chair, hands on knees, and tried to make sense of what had just happened.