'I have to agree,' said Ullsaard. He ignored the hostility flowing from several of the governors, Nemtun and Adral chief amongst them. 'There is no forage in Upper Mekha; my legions are wholly dependent upon those supplies until irrigation can be dug and farms established. That will take all of the winter, and there is no guarantee of a sure harvest next year. We need that grain.'
'Now you see why it is so important that you continue to expand our hotwards border,' Lutaar said. 'We need more farmland.'
'There is more fertile land around Magilnada, and bountiful harvests in Salphoria,' said Ullsaard, sensing the mood of the governors. 'With that harvest coming, it would be a better use of my legions to secure the Magilnada grain trail than scrape a few more farms out of the Mekhani desert. If nothing else, having a few legions on the road might remind this chief where he gets most of his money.'
Murian nodded enthusiastically, and there was approval in the eyes of Allon and Asuhas.
'I am not going to start a war with Salphoria,' the king announced, dashing Ullsaard's growing hope. 'Our main thrust will continue to be along the Greenwater.'
The governors fell to bickering over tithe rates and trade deals, which washed over Ullsaard's numbed mind. His fate had been decided. He would be returning to the heat and sand of Mekha.
III
Ullsaard did not head back to his apartment. He strode through the palace in a foul mood, heading for the inner gardens. Servants scurried from his path, casting nervous looks at the general as he passed. He had reached the atrium, the sun slanting through its high windows, when a call from behind brought him to a halt. He turned to see Noran. The herald caught up with Ullsaard and the pair walked into the gardens together.
'I've seen brighter storm clouds,' said Noran. 'It looks like someone pissed in your wine.'
Ullsaard simply grunted in reply as the two of them crossed the paved border of the garden onto a close- cropped lawn. The snip of knives sounded from across the grass where three servants knelt, using their blades to trim the lawn's edge. The general was content to follow his friend to a bench beside a shallow pool. Red-scaled fish swam lazily above a multicoloured mosaic of circles and curves.
They sat in silence for some time until Noran's patience finally wore thin.
'So, what news is so bad that you're stalking the palace with a face like thunder?'
'Cosuas is getting the Greenwater campaign,' Ullsaard said between gritted teeth. Saying it out loud made the king's proclamation even harder to bear.
'I see,' Noran said quietly. 'So you'll be heading back to Mekha soon.'
Ullsaard turned his bleak stare on his friend.
'Tomorrow.'
Noran let out a sigh of sympathy. They sat for a while longer. Noran began to fidget, increasing Ullsaard's annoyance. Finally the general could hold his frustration no more.
'Fucking politics,' he growled. 'The empire's being run by men who can count sacks of grain but wouldn't know one end of a spear from the other. All they're interested in is holding what they've got. And those Brotherhood bastards looking over all our shoulders, keeping an eye on us like they were Askhos's own fucking guard dogs.'
He stood up and took a pace before rounding on Noran.
'And all the fucking nobles as well, with their villas and their farms and their tenants, all taking their share and putting in nothing.' Ullsaard saw the shock on his friend's face and he realised what he had said. He reached out a hand. 'I didn't mean you, you know? I'm sorry…'
Noran waved the apology away.
'Don't fret about it, I'm not insulted. Truth be told, you're right. Most of the men with power and wealth did little to earn it. Even merchants have to get up every morning and sell their wares. But what would you rather we had?'
Noran motioned for Ullsaard to sit down. The general did so, resting his elbow on his knee, chin in hand.
'I don't know. Something more than this. I was brought up with the histories of Askhos and Luriun and Muuris the Proud. Men who did things; carved a whole fucking empire by themselves. When did Greater Askhor stop needing men like that?'
'When we achieved peace,' said Noran. 'And here's the thing. You didn't grow up with the histories of those heroes; you grew up with their myths. I've read actual history, and it wasn't all the glorious victories and sunshine you think it was. Luriun? He killed his brother and raped his widow because his own wives couldn't produce a male heir. He destroyed the bridges at Narun and refused to rebuild them until the king agreed to marry his eldest son to Luriun's cousin.
'And before that, what was Muuris? Just another tribal chieftain, killing his neighbours and taking their livestock for himself. Muuris probably butchered more Askhans than all of the Nalanorian tribes did. But Askhos was clever enough to persuade Muuris that it was better for him to set off coldwards and fight there than keep shitting on his own doorstep.'
'You make them sound like thugs and thieves,' said Ullsaard. 'What does that make me? A failed thug?'
'A civilised man,' replied Noran. 'You can't compare the empire as it is now to how it was born. We've taken the best of what was created and got rid of the bad parts. Well, most of the bad parts. You may not like us, but the noble families provide continuity. Like the Blood. It was my ancestors that joined Askhos and Muuris and all those other heroes; fed them with the grain from our fields, armed them with the copper from our mines, gave them our women as wives and our men as soldiers. We took no fewer risks than anyone else. We entrusted our futures to those heroes of yours, made them what they were, so don't be surprised that we're reaping the benefits now.'
Though Ullsaard had to concede Noran's point, he still didn't like it. Who could say what achievements his father and grandfathers and great-grandfathers had accomplished? Yet that had not counted for anything because he wasn't a noble; he wasn't even a born Askhan. An elderly servant hobbled across the lawn calling his name. 'What is it?' Ullsaard growled.
'Prince Aalun asks that you join him in his chambers to discuss your new orders, General.'
'He can write them without me,' said Ullsaard.
'He was most insistent, General.'
'You best go,' said Noran, standing up.
Ullsaard sighed. All he wanted was some fresh air and to spend the next few watches with his family. In the morning he would be leaving; he had no idea how long it would be before he returned. With a reluctant nod, Ullsaard waved for the servant to lead the way.
IV
The functionary took Ullsaard through Aalun's apartment to a small room filled with papers and tablets. The prince stood at a desk in its centre, a large map spread across it. He looked up with a smile as Ullsaard entered.
'Thank you, Renio, please close the door,' Aalun said. He saw Ullsaard's downcast expression. 'Do not be so glum, my friend. We can work this situation to our advantage.'
'Really? As I see it, I have wasted the better part of the summer coming here, for nothing.'
Aalun wagged his finger.
'Not at all, Ullsaard, not at all. Just after you left, my father acceded to the governors' demand that something be done about the grain problem. The king has tasked me with resolving the matter.'
Ullsaard slumped into a chair beside the desk.
'Grain problem? I've been overlooked for what will likely be the best command of my life and you want me to worry about grain?'
'Stop sulking and listen to what I have to say,' snapped Aalun. He visibly calmed himself. 'Moving Cosuas to the Greenwater gives us an opportunity; one that will be even more to your liking.'
