The Maasrites patiently nodded again and followed the prince to his mattress, quickly helping him undress. When he was under the blanket, head sunk into the pillow, they turned away and shared a conspiratorial smile. As they tidied the camp, Erlaan began to grunt quietly with pleasure. They kept their gazes away from his tent.
'Wanker,' signed Aminea. The other Maasrite bit his knuckle to suppress a laugh and they headed to their rough pallets, sneaking a jug of fiery Enairian spirit from their packs. They took a swig each and giggled quietly as panting began to sound from Erlaan's bed.
'Not a lot,' Keaila signed. 'Early start.'
Aminea nodded, took one more mouthful and stashed the liquor. The frenetic sounds of self-pleasure from Erlaan died down. The two mute servants looked past the guttering fire and saw the prince burying himself deeper into the bedding.
'You wash sheet in morning,' Keaila signed to his friend.
'Fuck you,' Aminea signed back with a grin.
VI
The galley's boat picked up Erlaan and the two servants not long after the next day. Noran and Ullsaard were both aboard already, nursing sore heads. The prince was happy to keep to himself, while Ullsaard and Noran were in no fit state for conversation and winced every time the sailors' bare feet padded on the boards or the sail cracked in the wind. Ullsaard was relieved that a steady duskwards wind carried them against the sluggish current without need for the sweeps. The thump of the drum and creak of the oars would just about have broken him.
The ship was brimming with fresh supplies from Geria. Barrels of pickled fish and salted goat meat filled the hold and were roped onto the deck. Bales of white Okharan linen had been stowed as well, for dyeing in the towns of Nalanor before being shipped to markets across the empire. The captain had also used the opportunity to acquire some slabs of Okharan marble — jadeveined stone highly prized in Askh — which he had distributed throughout the ship as expensive ballast. Up in the bow two bulky abada munched at their feed, thick ropes through their nose horns tying them to rings in the deck. No patch of deck was wasted, everything bound tight and close-packed.
There was little cloud and the captain made use of the pleasant weather to set his crew to cleaning and maintaining everything from bow to stern. Bronze fixings were polished, planks scoured, the mast lacquered with thick resin from Maasra, knots were tightened, ropes spliced and a hundred other things besides that kept a ship afloat and orderly. All was done with a quiet bustle that carefully avoided the guests when possible, as if they were a necessary inconvenience rather than the purpose of the journey.
Ullsaard lay on the deck, a coil of rope for a pillow, eyes closed, sleeping in short snatches. He found his troubled stomach could handle the rising and falling of the ship better than when upright. In the periods of wakefulness, he thought about his confrontation with Nemtun. Should he have held his tongue? He dismissed the regret. Both he and Nemtun wanted to take over the Greenwater campaign in Kalmud's absence. They were going to become rivals anyway, so Ullsaard's little outburst didn't matter. If anything, it might discourage Nemtun from getting too carried away, knowing that a fully active, experienced general was offering to continue the advance along the river.
Thoughts of the Greenwater campaign banished any chance of catching up on lost sleep. Ullsaard's mind filled with the possibilities. So much more could be done than in Mekha. An easy, constant supply line meant he would be able to push hotwards as far as the river would take him. Who could say what was waiting down there? The sea, at some point, and that probably meant a harbour. The Greenwater was the main artery of Ersua, Nalanor and Okhar, and doubtless in the uncharted reaches of the river there were undiscovered tribes and towns that depended on the river. For all that Ullsaard knew, it was a prize worth even more than Salphoria. He would sooner risk the wrath of Nemtun than let the bloated fart get his greasy paws on the Greenwater without a fight.
'Here,' said Erlaan. Ullsaard opened his eyes to find the prince standing over him with a jug of water and a cup. He sat up and took them with a nod of thanks.
'Now I remember why Askhos forbade hard drink in the legions,' Ullsaard said with a grimace. He downed two cups of water swiftly and emptied the remaining contents of the jug over his head with a gasp.
'Thank Noran, it was his idea,' said Erlaan, sitting down next to Ullsaard. 'He was throwing up over the stern when I last saw him and was begging for some water. I thought you might appreciate some as well.'
'You don't approve of drinking?'
'Nothing wrong with indulging now and then,' Erlaan said with a shrug and a grin. 'I know I've not had much experience of life, but I've had a few wine-filled evenings. I've learnt that they're best reserved for when one has nothing to do for several days after.'
'True, too true,' said Ullsaard. He studied the prince and scratched a bearded cheek. 'I got into something of an argument with your great-uncle.'
'You were drunk?'
'No such excuse. No, he just annoyed me.'
'I wouldn't worry too much about that, he annoys everybody. I'm pretty sure he and my grandfather used to have fights all of the time. I don't think he's ever got over the sad fact of his birth.'
Ullsaard raised himself to one elbow.
'What do you mean?'
'Second-born of the Blood,' explained Erlaan. 'As soon as my father was born he was next in line, meaning Nemtun was not going to become king. I think that's why he couldn't stand to stay in Askh and decided to lead the legions duskwards.'
'I hadn't considered that,' said Ullsaard. 'Must be hard knowing that you're never going to be at the top no matter what you do.' 'You seem to handle it without any problem.' 'What? I'm not of the Blood.'
'Which means that you'll never be king, either. It's not a problem for you, why should it be a problem for Nemtun? And Uncle Aalun is very supportive of my father. He doesn't seem to be jealous.'
'Maybe you're right. Maybe it is just jealousy.' Ullsaard saw small wooden houses crowding the banks of the river, fishing boats bobbing up and down on their moorings outside. The Greenwater was even wider here and barely a sound could be heard from the banks. His head throbbed again, the previous night's drinking not quite ready to free him of its effects.
'Believe me, it is jealousy,' said Erlaan. 'Askhos was always careful never to give his followers any reason to doubt the right of the Blood to rule. My father has always told me that although being of the Blood gives us the right to rule, the reputation of the Blood depends upon all of us to rule with dignity and fairness. It is not only a privilege, but also an honour that needs to be lived up to.'
'One that I am sure you will,' said Ullsaard, guessing that Erlaan was worrying again about his inheritance. It would be better to change the subject than listen to more of the prince's self-indulgent woes. Unfortunately, Ullsaard couldn't think of anything Erlaan wouldn't complain about.
'I should leave you to recover in peace,' said Erlaan, mistaking Ullsaard's silence. The general affected a grateful smile and lay back with his eyes closed. Erlaan's footsteps receded across the deck and Ullsaard drifted again into sleep.
VII
They sailed past the slate-roofed buildings of Paalun and continued upriver, the mountains of Nalanor and Askhor growing larger every day. The vine terraces and grassy meadows of Okhar gave way to Nalanor's crop-rich fields, swathes of gold and green as far as the eye could see. Here the Greenwater narrowed, the current growing stronger. The wind kept strong across the flat plains of Nalanor, but every dusk and dawn it stilled and the sailors brought out the oars for a watch to keep the ship at its steady pace.
The tedium of the voyage gnawed at Ullsaard and he became irritable. Without the needs of command to distract him with its everyday inconveniences, the general realised just how repetitive life could become. There were no disciplinary matters to oversee, no provisioning requests, no scouting parties to send or officers to instruct.
