not about to start scraping around in the mountains with a ragged bunch of dirty Salphors and hairy hillmen. What would you have them think of us, running for their help with our tails between our legs? This is an Askhan affair, it has nothing to do with foreigners.'
'Do you have a suggestion for what we should do next?'
'We stop running, Ullsaard,' said the prince. 'It is about time we face up to Nemtun and look him in the eye. He will back down, I am sure of it. I have always said we should make a stand rather than let ourselves be chased all over Greater Askhor.'
Ullsaard knew Aalun had never said anything of the sort, but opted for discretion.
'Nemtun wants to prove he's still the big man, an army commander,' said Ullsaard. 'He doesn't give an abada's turd about the consequences, he'll attack just out of spite for me.'
'We will stay here, build up the fortifications. Even Nemtun will think twice about attacking five legions in a strong position.'
'I think you misjudge your uncle's desire for renewed glory. He'll happily send his men to the spear just to prove he's still got what it takes.'
'Not all of the men are his,' Aalun said, wagging a finger in disagreement. 'I shall send messages to Allon.'
'And what will your messages say, Prince?'
'Allon is a nobody, Ullsaard. He is governor of Enair, the arse end of the empire, and at the moment Nemtun and my father make him feel important. I shall offer to transfer his governorship to somewhere more to his liking when I become king.' Aalun smiled at a thought. 'Probably Okhar if Nemtun continues to push his luck.'
'But that depends on Allon believing you can deliver on your promise. What if he thinks you're already on the losing side? What can you bargain with?'
'Enough with the 'ifs' and 'buts', man!' Aalun stood up, fists on hips. 'I have told you my decision. I thought you were a general of Askhor! If Nemtun wants a fight, you should give it to him. Unless you think you cannot beat him?'
It took all of Ullsaard's resolve not to bite on the bait. He stood up slowly, pressed his fist to his chest in salute and left. The evening routine occupied the camp as he stepped out of the pavilion. A few soldiers gave him odd looks as he marched stiffly back to his tent, keeping his boiling temper in check.
Inside, Urikh was still waiting for him, joined by Luia and Pretaa. Ullsaard almost left again at the sight, but refused to be chased out of his own place by his family.
'It looks like you don't approve of whatever Aalun had to say,' said Luia. Ullsaard darted her a foul look but she continued. 'Urikh has told me everything he has been doing. It is most enterprising.'
'The prince wants us to stay and wait for Nemtun,' Ullsaard said, flopping down into his chair. He looked around for something to drink but the table was empty. 'Bring me some wine!'
'When did Aalun become commander of your army?' said Luia. 'He sits in your tent, is served by your household, and now he gives the orders.'
'Hush, Mother, Aalun is one of the Blood,' said Urikh with a mocking tone. 'We have to do what he says.'
At this remark, Ullsaard's eyes met his mother's. Her thoughts were easily guessed. A servant appeared at Ullsaard's shoulder with a jug and cup, and he was glad to look away. Taking the drink, he focussed on Urikh.
'How many of these rebels and brigands are there?' Ullsaard asked.
'Oh, few hundred, maybe a thousand,' Urikh replied. 'From what their leader tells me, they have plenty of space. They are holed up in some caves just above Magilnada, easily defended if Nemtun is stupid enough to come after us.'
'If you defy Aalun, are you sure your men will follow you?' asked Pretaa. 'That is what you are thinking, isn't it?'
'There is no reason why that should be a problem,' Urikh said quickly, cutting in before Ullsaard could reply. 'Aalun is not as all-powerful as he might like us to think; not away from Askh, at least. He needs us more than we need him, for the moment.'
All eyes turned to Ullsaard, expectation on the faces of Luia and Urikh, concern on Pretaa's. He drank more of his wine, collecting his thoughts. He looked directly at his mother when he spoke, though his words were addressed to Urikh.
'You're right, we don't need Aalun.' Ullsaard tugged at his bottom lip, still thinking. 'His succession is worth less than piss to me. There are other ways we can force the king to deal with us evenly.'
'He could still cause us problems,' said Luia.
At that moment Meliu entered the tent with Neerita. The two were chattering gaily until they felt the others staring at them.
'What is the matter?' asked Meliu. 'Why does everyone look so glum?'
'Nothing to worry you, sister,' said Luia. She glanced at Pretaa, who smiled warmly and stood up.
'Come with me, sweethearts, I have a few things to tell you that I cannot say in the company of men,' said Pretaa, ushering the two women towards the back partitions. 'Childbirth makes them squeamish.'
'Is there any chance you could force Aalun to agree with your plan?' Luia continued in a hushed voice when they had left. Ullsaard shook his head.
'He's a stubborn bastard, I can't see him changing his mind.'
'Sounds like someone else I know,' muttered Urikh.
'It's probably best if I just kill him,' said Ullsaard. Luia's eyes widened with shock, but Urikh simply nodded in appreciation.
'Direct,' said Urikh. 'I like it. But if you just stab Aalun in the heart it will turn some of the men against you. For all my jokes, Aalun really is one of the Blood.'
'So am I,' Ullsaard said quietly.
The shock of Urikh and Luia seemed to silence all noise across the camp. Mother and son stared at Ullsaard, utterly taken aback.
'I'm Lutaar's bastard,' Ullsaard said, answering the question that was doubtless in the minds of the other two. Ullsaard glanced back towards the bed compartments from where his mother's voice could just about be heard. 'I did not know until recently.'
Even sharper than his mother, Urikh was the first to make the next leap.
'That means I am of the Blood as well! I am your heir!'
Ullsaard recognised too well the look of greed and calculation that came over his son. The general grabbed Urikh's arm tightly and pulled him close.
'Tell nobody of this!' Ullsaard hissed. 'Do not even tell Pretaa that you know!'
Urikh nodded and tried to pull his arm free, but Ullsaard's grip was unmoveable.
'Swear to me,' the general growled. He shifted his glare to Luia. 'You too! No one is to know this until I am ready to announce it.'
'You have my word,' said Urikh, struggling against his father's grasp. 'Not a hint to anyone.'
Ullsaard released his hold and sat back, face flushed.
'I can see why we do not need Aalun,' said Luia. 'You could take the throne for yourself!'
'Do not think that for a moment,' said Ullsaard, alarmed at the suggestion. 'I just want the king to listen to my demands for a Salphorian campaign. What I want hasn't changed.'
'You cannot openly challenge Aalun unless you are prepared to reveal who you really are,' said Urikh.
'I cannot simply slit his throat in his sleep,' replied Ullsaard. 'Such an act would turn the legions against me.'
'Leave it with me,' said Urikh.
'What do you plan to do?' asked Ullsaard.
'Do you really want to know that?'
Ullsaard saw the look in his son's eye and decided that ignorance would be better.
'You're right,' he said. 'Whatever it is you do, if you get caught you're on your own.'
'You cannot say that,' said Luia. 'Urikh is your son.'
'It is all right, mother,' Urikh said. 'I can look after myself if I need to. I had to in the past, I see no reason to stop now.'
