'Though he would never say it himself, queen, I think the captain would need at least twice that number to patrol the border. More, if you want him to head into Near-Mekha and chase down the bastards.'
'Three legions?' Urikh laughed. 'Where does he think I can get another ten thousand men?'
'Perhaps you could send word to the king?' suggested the herald, eyes fixed firmly on a detail of the mosaic.
'Thank you, we will send for you,' Luia said before Urikh could reply. The governor glanced at his mother, annoyed, but recognised the intent look on her face.
'Yes, refresh yourself and return this evening,' said the prince. 'I will have a message for you to take back to captain Harrakil.'
The herald bowed and departed, his hard-soled kolubrid boots clicking on the tiled floor. When the tall double doors of the hall closed behind the messenger, Urikh turned to Luia.
'Do you really think it is a good idea to request legions from Ullsaard at the moment? He is probably a thousand miles into Salphoria by now, and no doubt having immense fun.'
'He will thank you little for allowing Okhar to be overrun by Mekhani savages while he is away conquering new lands,' Luia replied. She smoothed her long dress, hands running over the dark blue Maasrian silk. 'There could be another way to get the soldiers you need.'
'No, not the other governors,' Urikh replied with a shake of the head. 'You know they would insist on payment, over the odds. The cost would be extortionate. Trade is barely half what it was two years ago and there are some parts of Okhar that have not paid their taxes since I took power. There is simply not enough money in the city vaults and I am not going to the moneylenders.'
'Sometimes you will have to delve deeper than the official coffers, Urikh.'
'Family money?' Urikh almost choked on the suggestion.
'Nobles have been raising new legions all over the empire to join my husband on his jaunt,' said Luia. 'Thanks to Nemtun's exploits trying to stop your father, Okhar is woefully under strength. The Greenwater is vital, the border with Mekha volatile, and to duskwards you have the hill tribes on the Salphorian border; and to deal with all of that you have barely a single legion. Maasra, peaceful Maasra with her Nemurian neighbours, boasts three legions. Enair has four. The situation is unsustainable.'
'I will write to Ullsaard,' said Urikh, deciding that any solution that did not involve spending his own money was preferable.
'It could be the end of the summer before we receive his reply.' Luia stood up, adjusted the slender silver chain that served as her belt, straightened her necklace and fixed her son with a hard stare. 'You best hope that your father is in a generous mood, and that nothing drastic happens to hotwards. Make no mistake, if Ullsaard thinks you are not up to the task of being governor, he will replace you, son or not.'
'You would never let him do that.'
Only Luia's look offered argument to Urikh's assumption. She turned away, saying nothing, and left the hall by a side door. The patter of bare feet announced the arrival of several servants, buckets of water and brushes in hand. As they set to work scrubbing the floor tiles, Urikh sat deep in thought, composing the letter he would have to send his father. If he could find some way to make it look like he was taking assertive action and needed the soldiers for expansion, not defence, his message was more likely to be welcomed.
With the proper phrasings coming to mind, Urikh strode from the great hall with determined steps, heading for his study.
Free Country
Midsummer, 211th year of Askh
I
More than a dozen heralds crowded into the king's pavilion. Ullsaard's scribe, Lasok, sat behind a small field table with a pile of scrolls, handing one out to each messenger in turn before crossing off a corresponding entry on a wax tablet. Ullsaard sat on his campaign chair watching the proceedings with a dour expression, chin cupped in his hand, elbow on the arm of the throne.
Anasind pushed his way through the throng and bowed quickly. He glanced over his shoulder at the heralds.
'Fresh orders?' he asked. 'Will we be moving out soon?'
'No,' Ullsaard said with a slow shake of the head. 'The legions are staying exactly where they are.'
'I understand that you do not have to tell me what's going on, but if I can help?'
Ullsaard beckoned the First Captain closer and waved to one of the stools arranged around the throne. Anasind swept his cloak out of the way and sat down, leaning close to hear the king's soft words.
'Our woes are not restricted to Salphoria,' Ullsaard said with a heavy sigh. 'I received word last night from Urikh. Those Mekhani we left behind are stirring up trouble on the hotwards border.'
'Surely Urikh can cope with a few troublesome savages,' said Anasind. 'It doesn't say much for his suitability as a governor, if you forgive me saying.'
'I would think the same, but from what Urikh has reported, these are not your normal summer raiders. Someone has been bringing the Mekhani together, organising them. Most of the legions are with us, trapped this side of Magilnada. I can't abandon the campaign wholesale to sort out the Mekhani without giving the Salphors an opportunity to take back everything we've conquered already.'
'I see that. I still don't get what all the messengers are for.'
'I'm assembling the council of governors in Askh. Urikh can't ask them to pass on their legions to him, so I'm going to have to.'
'You're going to Askh?' The First Captain's brow furrowed. 'Who's going to be in charge here?'
'I was going to speak to you later about that,' said the king. 'Since you're here now… I'm going to name you my general. You'll be in command.'
Anasind rocked back, making no attempt to hide his happiness.
'I'll be general? Thank you, king!'
'Don't thank me yet,' Ullsaard replied with a sour look. 'It's not going to be easy for you. The situation here is fragile, and I don't know what Aegenuis or Anglhan are going to do next. You can expect the Salphors to make something of the situation. You're also going to have your hands full with these amateurs, the merchants and nobles, trying to get their own way and tell you what to do.'
Ullsaard levered himself out of his throne and stepped forward to lay a hand on Anasind's shoulder.
'I trust you with this. You need to keep the army as intact as possible. Supplies will be low, and you need to keep a lid on desertions. Some might be up for a fight, wanting to advance again. You can't let that happen. If the army starts to break apart, the Salphors will pick off the legions on their own. I don't expect them to launch a major counter-attack this season, because they've had plenty of time to do so while we were readying our defences. That said, I'm sure they'll try to bait some of our commanders out of the line. Sit tight. It could be for the whole winter, I don't know yet. Keep everyone safe and ready for me.'
Anasind stood and rapped his fist against his chestplate, eyes gleaming with pride.
'You can rely on me, king.'
'I know,' Ullsaard replied with a smirk. 'I wouldn't have picked you, otherwise.'
'No, I suppose you wouldn't.'
'You also need to keep my departure secret. The less people that know I've left Salphoria, the better. Let's say I'm going on a tour of inspection around the other legions. That should explain my absence for plenty of time.'
'When are you leaving?'
'Tomorrow,' said Ullsaard, returning to his throne.
