Noran turned back to the river, scanning the surface for flying fish or other delights to distract him. Here and there a small dhow bobbed on the water, nets trailing behind it while the three or four fishermen aboard lounged in the setting sun. Evening was coming on and clouds of midges were rising from the rushes along the bank, gathering over the water. Birds gathered for the feast, diving and sweeping just above the river, snatching mouthfuls of the swarming flies.
It was pleasant enough, but intensely boring. Back in Askh, someone would be holding a feast, or there would be games held at Maarmes; something to stimulate the senses and the intellect, or at least rouse the flesh. Noran made one more attempt to animate his lethargic friend.
"These Okharans are a bunch of lazy bastards, aren't they?"
"Most of them," replied Ullsaard. "Had a couple of Okharan porters a few years back. They were always wanting to take rest breaks. Still, the ones I've got in my legions don't give me any problems. Not officer quality, mind you, but diligent enough when they've been trained, and damned obedient."
"You'd be obedient too if you have Nemtun for your governor. He scares the shit out of me, and I'm a family friend."
Ullsaard dismissed his friend's concern.
"He's the king's younger brother, that's what scares the shit out of you; because you're scared of the king. Nemtun's all talk, a bully. King Lutaar gave him Okhar so that he doesn't come back to Askh too often. Too many willing girls and hot days for him to want to leave."
"He trained Aalun and Kalmud; he can't be just full of farts."
Ullsaard yawned again and stared out towards the sunset, shielding his eyes. His tone was distracted.
"True enough, he was a tough bastard in his prime, from what Cosuas says. Pretty much conquered Anrair single-handed if some of the stories are to be believed. But after that, he couldn't be arsed anymore; he had that one great campaign and has lived off it ever since. He hung around the palace knocking up maids until Lutaar sent Murian to take over Anrair and gave Okhar to him."
"You see, that's the sort of gossip I'd like to hear from Neerita. Useful stuff to know."
The pair fell quiet for a while, contemplating the vagaries of the sexes. Noran took a knife from his belt and began cleaning his nails, flicking dirt into the swirling waters. Ullsaard broke the silent reverie, sitting up.
"Ever felt like going for a governorship?"
"What?" said Noran, whose thoughts had strayed back to Neerita's bedroom talents.
"A governorship — ever been interested?"
There was an intent look in the general's eyes; the question wasn't out of idle interest.
"Why? Have you heard something?"
"No, no!" Ullsaard warded away Noran's intrigued look with a wave of his hands. "I mean, I don't see any of the current governors shifting any time soon. What I meant was, if we settle northern Mekha, for instance, or somewhere else, would you want the king to bear you in mind?"
Noran considered this for a while, lips pursed.
"Not really. Well, maybe. Well, of course I would, but it'd have to be somewhere nicer than Mekha. Though, I suppose if I was to station myself in that new town you'll be building, with some proper irrigation in and everything, it wouldn't be too bad. I think my father was once offered Maasra, but didn't like the idea of living on the Nemurians' doorstep. And that he said being a governor wasn't as great as it seems — more a case of getting the blame if things go wrong and none of the credit if things trickle along nicely. It's like having an ailur — impressive until someone has to clean up all the shit."
"What about a piece of Salphoria?"
Noran's eyes widened with surprise and then narrowed.
"Is that likely? I mean, that would be a bit of a jewel, wouldn't it? Yes, Magilnada would make a fine seat." A look of consternation clouded Noran's face. "Magilnada would either be fantastic or terrible, no middle ground. What with all our damned gold and ore going to the city, it's pretty rich already, but it's hanging its arse out in the wind, right on the edge of the wilds. You'd be dealing with bandits, rebels and who knows what other vagabonds and idiots, not to mention probably a whole army of pissed-off Salphors plotting to get their lands back. They're not like Okharans, or Maasrites, or Ersuans. They wouldn't piss on their king if he was on fire, so how do you conquer that lot? The more I think about it, the more it seems like it'd be more trouble than it's worth. Anyway, that's not going to happen any time soon, is it…? Is it?"
Ullsaard shrugged.
"Who knows? I think I could persuade the king that Salphoria is achievable, if we decide to really go for it. It's definitely worth it. Gold and silver. Gems. Copper, timber and coal. As much grain as Okhar and Nalanor put together. More of everything than Askhor has already, just over the mountains, being wasted on a bunch of long-haired barbarians. More than that, it's the route duskwards. Nobody knows what lies past Salphoria, not even the Salphors!"
Noran was doubtful and his look expressed as much.
"Even if we assume that the king was to go for it, it's a tricky proposition to become governor. I mean, there's Prince Aalun to consider first, surely he'd want a piece of the action. Younger son, no governship yet, he'd be the first in line without a doubt. Even if he wasn't interested, which is unlikely, I'm not sure my family has enough clout to make any realistic stake. There's better-placed families than ours that have been sticking their tongues right up the king's arse for generations for just such an appointment, while my father's been blinkered by his trade interests. We've got plenty of lands, plenty of produce and even some ore, but how's that any use? The king gets a damned good share in levy anyway, it's not like you can bribe him."
"Maybe you're right," sighed Ullsaard.
"It's not like you to give up on something so easily," said Noran. "What is it? Come on, something's been gnawing your cock for a while now, why don't you tell me?"
Ullsaard glanced at the crewman at the tiller, who appeared to be dozing fitfully. The general stood up and joined Noran at the rail, keeping his voice low.
"I really want to have a go at Salphoria. Right now. It's like we're a legionnaire standing at the door of the whorehouse tugging himself rather than going in…" Ullsaard sighed and frowned. "Cosuas and the princes won't argue against the king, the governors are more concerned with keeping their posts than expanding, even that old warrior Nemtun, so the king sits on his hands. I figured…" He shrugged, helpless. "I thought that maybe I could use a bit of greed to fire the ambitions of a few of the big families. You know, start them jostling for the spoils, putting some pressure on the king."
He sighed again heavily and spat over the rail. Noran said nothing. It was the most talkative Ullsaard had been in years and he didn't want to interrupt.
"Problem is," Ullsaard continued, "I'm just no good at the politics. All I've done in my life is kill people, either with a sword or a spear or an army. I'm bloody good at it too, but it seems that after all these years, what has it got me? Askhos knows, I love the legions, I really do, and I've got a damned big house, three wives, three sons and plenty of askharins to show for it. But nobody listens to me. I'm just a general, I just do what the king wants me to do, kill the people the king wants me to kill.
"Ah shit, I don't know what I want."
Ullsaard started to turn away, disgusted with himself, but Noran grabbed him by the elbow and pulled him back.
"While I'm no politician, I've picked up a thing or two from my father over the years," Noran said. "If you're going to dabble in politics you have to take two views: the short and the long. In the short view, you have to be ready to exploit any opportunity that might arise and then deal with the consequences later. For the long view, you have to manipulate the situation for the present so that opportunities you are looking for come about in the future."