'I've had worse and survived,' said Ullsaard, though that was an exaggeration. He didn't want to think about the consequences of blood poisoning; by the regulations of the legions, such ailments were cured with a blade across the throat and Ullsaard did not know if the same rules applied to kings. 'You can go.'
Luaarit nodded, gathered up his things and departed quietly while Ullsaard turned his attention back to the First Captains.
'I've been too long away from Salphoria,' he said. 'For all we know, Aegenuis has stormed the camps and destroyed my army.'
'Is that likely?' asked Meesiu, horrified at the proposition.
'No,' said Ullsaard, 'but that does not make it impossible. I'm sure Anasind is doing a fine job of keeping those Salphor dogs at bay, but the longer the legions are stuck there, the more the war will swing against them. I've no idea what the supply problems are like, for a start.'
'Is there any reason why the caravans from Magilnada would not be getting through?' asked Harrakil. Ullsaard cursed himself for his loose tongue.
'The Salphors are not easy subjects,' he said hurriedly. 'You think they've bowed down and accepted their fate one day, only to find them raiding your columns the next. While Aegenuis and Carantathi are free, the Salphors will keep fighting.'
'Which legions will you be taking with you?' asked Harrakil. He had a wax slate in hand and was making notations. 'The Seventh? Twenty-First? Both?'
Ullsaard shook his head and grimaced.
'Send them up to Anrair to wait for me,' he said. 'I can't go directly to Salphoria. I'll need a fast column, say five companies.'
'I am sorry, king, I am confused,' said Harrakil. 'You are not heading to Salphoria?'
'No,' replied Ullsaard with a heavy sigh. 'First I have someone to deal with in Askh.'
Askhos
Late Spring, 212th year of Askh
I
The shuffling of feet along corridors, the quiet breaths sighing from the stone of the Grand Precincts reminded Lakhyri of the Temple. If one looked at things in a certain way, it was the Temple, of course, but the high priest did not allow himself to be drawn into such metaphysical contemplation, as tempting as it was. As he sat in his sparse chamber, fingers steepled on the table, he felt calm. After years of his brother's timidity-disguised-as-consolidation and the setbacks of Ullsaard's coup, Lakhyri finally believed that the situation was again developing as he wished.
The best result of his plans would be the rise of Erlaan to take the Crown, the combined forces of Mekha and Askh extinguishing all resistance in Salphoria to bring about the time of the eulanui. At worst, the Brotherhood had been re-established and Ullsaard's dependence upon it would grow stronger and proper leverage could be applied.
All things considered, Lakhyri was pleased with the turn of events.
A fierce knocking at the main doors echoed down the passageways, disturbing the high priest from his thoughts. He straightened and stood as feet pattered past the archway towards the front hall. With measured paces, he left his chamber and passed silently along the corridors as the pounding at the door continued.
'What shall we do?' asked a Brother as Lakhyri entered the vestibule. 'Who could it be?'
By the urgency of the knocking, Lakhyri guessed that it was a messenger bearing important news; he smiled thinly at the idea that perhaps such news was the death of Ullsaard.
'Open the door,' he declared.
The Brothers worked the mechanism and the two doors noiselessly swung in, bathing the hall with moonlight. Lakhyri had not realised it was night; it was so easy to lose track of time.
The opening doors revealed ten legionnaires, one of them a second captain who still had the pommel of his sword raised to beat upon the wood. He sheathed the weapon and stepped inside.
'Where is the High Brother?' the officer demanded, glowering at the closest priest.
'I am here,' said Lakhyri, taking three steps towards the man. 'What brings you here to disturb our work?'
'I have a message to deliver to you,' said the captain, waving to his men. A wagon was pulled into view, the back covered by a thick awning.
'A message from whom?' said Lakhyri as two of the legionnaires unfastened the ties of the awning and pulled down a hinged tailgate. 'What is this?'
Something large was pushed out onto the flags in front of the doorway. It took a moment for Lakhyri to realise what it was: the huge form of Erlaan-Orlassai bound in chains and manacles. The runes carved into his skin were obscured with scabs and dried blood and he writhed weakly against his bounds. It was then Lakhyri noticed his protege's lips had been sewn up with wire.
'Recognise this?'
Lakhyri's eyes snapped up to the back of the wagon, where King Ullsaard stood in the shadow, arms folded across his chest.
'Close the doors!' snapped Lakhyri, but the legionnaires acted first, grabbing the nearby Brothers and throwing them to the ground.
Ullsaard jumped down from the wagon and approached, directing a kick at the helpless Erlaan-Orlassai as he passed. Behind him, more legionnaires mounted the steps up to the Grand Precincts.
Lakhyri said nothing, noticing the sword at Ullsaard's hip. The king stopped a pace away from him, his face an expressionless mask.
'Do you recognise this creature?' the king said quietly.
Lakhyri quickly considered his options. Denial was impossible; it was clear Ullsaard already suspected Lakhyri's involvement with the resurgence of Mekhani, or at least with the transformation of Erlaan-Orlassai. The question was, just how much did the king really know?
'That is Erlaan, former prince of the Blood,' the high priest said calmly. 'Why have you brought him here?'
'These… changes, are you responsible?' the king continued in the same measured tone.
'You have proof that I am involved with this?' Lakhyri said.
Like a striking serpent, Ullsaard grabbed the front of Lakhyri's silver mask and wrenched it from his head, throwing back the high priest's hood as he did so. Lakhyri sneered as his sigilcarved features were revealed; the snarl turned to a choked cry as Ullsaard grabbed him by the throat.
'There is my proof, traitor!' said the king. 'Your eyes betray you, Lakhyri, as do the strange marks upon both of your bodies.'
'Traitor?' gasped Lakhyri, weakly pulling at Ullsaard's tight grip. 'What treachery?'
'You are behind the Mekhani attacks,' said the king. 'You raised up Erlaan to be their leader in an attempt to overthrow me. Do not waste your last breaths denying it!'
The high priest gave up his forlorn struggles and fell limp in Ullsaard's grasp. Though he feigned defeat, his mind was whirling, seeking a means to exonerate himself, to deny the accusation; to save his life. He could think of nothing, and chose defiance instead.
'What if I did?' he croaked. 'Perhaps you are jealous of our young prince? Should I have offered my gifts to you instead?'
Lakhyri felt the fingers around his throat relax a fraction.
'Turn me into a monster?' said Ullsaard, seemingly amused by the thought. 'I am scarred and ugly enough
