Aegenuis cleared his throat and took a mouthful of water. There was no reason to believe that Leraates was lying about the situation. Whether Aegenuis held true to his word later, it was clear to the king that he had no choice for the time being. When the immediate danger was passed, he would find a way to bring Magilnada back into Salphorian hands and kill Anglhan. Until then, he would allow this Brother of Askh to weave his plots. Division in Askhor could never be a harm to Salphoria or Aegenuis.
'Very well,' said the king, addressing his words to Furlthia. He made an educated guess at what the governor of Magilnada desired. 'Tell Anglhan that he is to leave Greater Askhor and become ruler of the Free Country, with my support and the blessings of the spirits. Tell me, Furlthia, how does he intend to keep Magilnada safe from Ullsaard's vengeance? I hear the new Askhan king has a short temper, and two legions are not enough to hold Magilnada against the might of Askhor.'
'He did not tell me, king, but I have no fear on that account,' replied Furlthia. 'Anglhan has a talent for self- preservation. He knows that Ullsaard will come at Magilnada with everything and will have some means to counter this. If he didn't, he wouldn't dare cede from the empire, not with a hundred thousand legionnaires within forty days' march of his city. No, believe me, Anglhan has something up his sleeve.'
Magilnadia
Late Winter, 211th year of Askh
I
Moving up the wide stairs to the upper storey of the governor's house, Furlthia felt his skin crawl. Marble busts of Anglhan stood on pedestals flanking the stairwell, and as Furlthia turned onto the narrow landing, he saw a mural of his former master on the far wall. It depicted Anglhan standing at the gates of Magilnada, an Askhan army behind him. Anybody who had ever suffered dealings with the governor would see the lie for what it was; Anglhan had come to the city amongst an army of ragtag rebels and Hillmen, and not entered until several hours after the fighting had been concluded. He had not even raised a finger to stop the Askhans when Ullsaard had revealed his full intent and Askhan legionnaires had scoured the city of the last remaining Salphorian nobility and warrior- chieftains.
Coming to a set of double-doors, ornately carved with a view down upon the city from the great mountain on whose shoulder it was built, Furlthia took a breath. He fought down his irritation at being kept waiting for three days since making his presence in Magilnada known to Lenorin, the governor's chief aide. Eventually, a runner had come with a message demanding that Furlthia attended Anglhan at his home as soon as possible.
Furlthia knocked three times and waited, rehearsing what he would say to the governor. He wanted to deliver Aegenuis's agreement and then leave with as little fuss as possible. The more time Furlthia spent in Magilnada, the deeper his distaste for what Anglhan had done to the city.
'Come in!' came a strained call from within.
Furlthia opened the door and stepped inside. He halted with just one foot over the threshold on seeing what was within; the sight made him almost physically sick.
Anglhan bent over a large desk, kilt pulled up around his evergrowing waist, his voluminous body pinning a naked youth face down amongst the scrolls, wax tablets and official stamps of office. Sweat rolled from the governor's face in streams, his thinning hair plastered to his face as he thrust and grunted. Anglhan had the lad's face pressed against the wood with one hand; in the other he held a red candle held so that wax slowly dripped onto the youth's back.
Anglhan's face was a grimace of deviant pleasure, eyes wide, mouth snarling. Worst of all was the expression on the young man suffering such grotesque attention; Furlthia saw neither pleasure nor pain, just a bored look of indifference as Anglhan huffed and heaved his bulk against the youth.
'Spirits take my eyes,' cursed Furlthia. He backed out and slammed the door closed. He had taken two steps towards the stairs when Lenorin reached the landing at a run. The chancellor stopped as he saw the expression on Furlthia's face.
'I'm sorry,' said Lenorin with a knowing, weary look. 'I meant to catch you before you came up here, but something distracted me.'
'I should just stick a knife in the pig right now,' said Furlthia, feeling his loathing for Anglhan reaching a new low.
'I would help, but for the bigger picture,' said Lenorin, ushering Furlthia into a small study on the far side of the stairs.
One wall was covered with a canvas map of Magilnada, every building coloured to indicate the type of dwelling or business. Wooden shelves heaped with yellowing parchment scrolls lined the rest of the room, save for a small window through which the noon sun shone weakly. Pots of inks and brushes stood on a small stand beneath the window, a half-finished painting of a gate tower on an easel beside it.
'This is where you work?' asked Furlthia, allowing himself to be guided to a wooden stool by the flustered chancellor. Lenorin looked around as if seeing the chamber for the first time, but nodded.
'Yes, this is my office,' he said. He closed his eyes for a moment, shaking his head slightly. 'It serves me better than sharing a chamber with… that man. I'm within shouting distance when he needs me.'
'Why do you even stay here?'
Lenorin smiled sadly and sat behind his small desk. He busied himself arranging wax tablets into a neat pile as he replied.
'It's the same as with him. Better the dark spirit that you know. Where I am, what I do, I can temper some of his worst excesses.'
'You call what I just saw an excess?' said Furlthia. 'No chieftain would behave like that to his men.'
'That? That's small enough sacrifice to keep him content. A few serving boys now and then. I pay them off; send them out of the city if they want. There's a couple, like Amarin there, who don't seem to mind, so I make sure they're on hand when it looks like Anglhan is getting frustrated and frisky. Believe me, it's better that way. When he can't get his cock into some poor boy, he gets vindictive.'
Lenorin cleared his throat, turned on his stool to put the tablets on a shelf behind him and directed his attention back to Furlthia.
'I'm worried,' said the chancellor. 'Ullsaard is coming back here soon from his winter camp. There's still snow in the air and he's getting ready for the next stage of the invasion. Anglhan has come up with reasons to keep his legions close to the city for the moment, but in his last letter, Ullsaard made it clear that he would be taking them duskwards on the next campaign. Without them, Anglhan has got no way to secure the border with Ersua.'
'Like I told you when I arrived, Aegenuis is agreed to the plan. He's spent the winter regaining as much favour with his warlords as he can get. Kubridias and Serbicuis have done as we wanted and pulled in every chief and warrior they can from their peoples. As soon as Anglhan makes his move, Aegenuis can persuade the rest of the chieftains to follow him again. Half the tribes have already agreed to send warriors against the legions to coldwards. Caught between the counter-attack and being cut off from Askhor, Ullsaard will have no choice but to fall back to a stronger position.'
'And that's when Leraates does his thing, is it?' said Lenorin.
'I hope so,' said Furlthia. 'I can't figure that one out, not properly. I know Ullsaard disbanded the Brotherhood, but I don't see what Leraates and his allies have got against their new king that makes them so determined to topple him.'
'Who cares? As long as Ullsaard's worried about his rule back in Askhor, he'll be too busy to be invading anywhere else. Knowing that the Free Country agreement with Askh is now worth less than dog shit, Aegenuis and his chieftains aren't going to let anyone just wander in and take over again.'
There was a muffled ring of a bell from outside. Lenorin looked up sharply, looking like a guilty man.
'Anglhan's finished his rutting,' said the chancellor. 'You can see him now. Just tell him about the agreement
