"It's just a bloody wall, eh?" Ullsaard said with a forced smile. "I hate the last days of the journey, so close to where you're going but not there yet. Forgive my gruff manner."
"Of course, Ullsaard," said Erlaan with a magnanimous look. "You have your wives waiting for you so close at hand and here's us chattering away about symbols of Askhan glory."
They rode on for a little while longer as the shadows lengthened and the air grew cooler.
"He built Magilnada as well, you know," said Noran.
"Who?" asked Ullsaard.
"Beruun, the man who constructed the Wall for Askhos."
"Never heard of him."
"Why should you have?" said Noran. "He turned out to be a traitor and a thief. Fled to Salphoria with half the workforce and built that damned city for their king."
"How do you know this?"
"While you were learning how to gut Mekhani and avoid the boy-fondlers in camp, I had my nose shoved into Artus's Chronicles and Conjectures by my father. He thought it important that every noble son of Askh should learn his history, to understand where we come from."
"And yet you have an utter ignorance of the most important book from history. The Book of Askhos."
Noran shrugged.
"I've never claimed to be even-handed. I didn't enjoy the learning, but some of it sticks in the mind despite numerous attempts to wash it away with fine liquor and rampant sex." Noran turned to Erlaan with a wink. "Those taught me far more important lessons about life than any number of dusty old scholars."
"I'll be sure to broaden my education when I have the chance," replied the prince.
Ullsaard ignored them as they continued to talk about their tutors and upbringing, maintaining a grumpy silence until they reached the Wall. The sun was almost set and the traffic on the road was all but gone.
"You two should enjoy the hospitality of the garrison," said Noran.
"And you?" asked Erlaan.
"I need to ride on, to bring news of your impending arrival to the palace. I'm sure they wish to organise a suitable welcome."
Ullsaard shook Noran's hand and clapped him on the shoulder.
"Ride safe, friend," said the general. "It's been good to see you again. Your wives should make arrangements with mine so that our families might spend some time together."
"I wouldn't be surprised if the whole thing hasn't been planned already," laughed Noran. "I'm certain they've already got festivals and celebrations in mind. Askhos knows how much it's going to cost us!"
The herald gave a nod to Erlaan.
"It is a pleasure to have met you, Prince."
"Likewise, Noran. I am sure I will see you around the palace in the days to come."
"Your father will be heartened to hear that you will be joining him very shortly. With any luck, he'll be back on his feet and ready to go, and this whole journey will have been a waste of time."
"With luck," Erlaan said quietly.
Noran looked at the two of them and then through the great gate to the darkening hills beyond.
"Right," he said, quietly as if to himself. "I'll be going then."
Ullsaard watched his friend ride through the gate and signalled the captain of the watch who had come out of the gatehouse to greet the general.
"Beer, bread and bed, Captain," said Ullsaard. The young officer nodded in understanding and headed back to the gate, snapping orders.
Ullsaard looked at his companion, hiding his annoyance that Noran had abandoned him with the prince. At least he only had to tolerate his company alone for one day. He waved Erlaan ahead.
"Welcome back to Askhor."
Salphoria
Summer, 208th Year of Askh
I
The clanking of chains from the debtors' cranks filled the sweaty confines of the landship's hull. The planks vibrated and rumbled with the grinding of the wheels beneath. Stripped to the waist, shackled men bent their backs to the turn shafts with metronomic regularity, stooping and heaving to the steady banging of the drivemaster's drum. Skins of many hues glistened in the yellow light from the three lanterns swaying upon the hull beams. All eighty of the labouring men had closecropped hair to prevent the spread of mites and other parasites, and their chests, cheeks and chins were clean shaven for the same reason.
Grimaces of pain were writ upon the faces of the newcomers; the old hands stared stolidly at the backs of the debtor in front with expressions of detached determination. They worked with hands bound with leather thongs, gripping wooden shafts smoothed to a polish by a generation of internees, on benches eroded into dipping shallows by countless buttocks.
Anglhan Periusis walked along the narrow aisle between the two rows of his workers, checking hands and feet for blisters, examining joints for inflammation. Behind him his second-incommand, Furlthia Miadnas, ladled water to the perspiring prisoners. Even with the hatches open it was sweltering in the bowels of the landship and Anglhan regularly dabbed at his forehead and fatty jowls with a sweat-soaked rag.
"Only four more days, Gelthius," Anglhan said, patting a grizzled debtor on the shoulder. "I bet you thought the day would never come."
"Never did, right enough," the man replied, puffing between the words as he continued to push and pull at the turncrank. "Fourteen years, right enough."
"I'll be dropping you off in Magilnada," the ship master said, hooking his fingers into the belt holding up his baggy trousers. "It's a day earlier than I should, by rights, but we're heading all the way to Carantathi after that and I wouldn't abandon you at least a day's walk from civilisation."
"Magilnada?" wheezed Gelthius. "Free Country, that is. Take me forever to work my way back to Landensi."
"You're welcome to join the deck crew at full pay, until we head back towards the central plains," Anglhan offered. "An experienced hand like yourself, that doesn't go unrewarded."
"I might do that," said Gelthius.
"Just let me know in the next day or two and I'll make the arrangements one way or the other," Anglhan said with a warm smile.
"Right enough," said Gelthius.
Anglhan continued the inspection of his detainees, marking off another day's service in his ledger for each of the debtors. He noticed that three of them would be finished paying their way before they reached Carantathi. He would have to transfer them to another debt guardian in Magilnada, or come up with some other form of arrangement so that they did not labour longer than was allowed.
"Everything seems in order," he said to Furlthia, who nodded in agreement.
"This new lot are as fit as a rat catcher's dogs," Furlthia said. "That was a good deal; don't usually get so many last this long."
"Aye, Byrantas earnt his commission this time," said Anglhan as he stepped onto the bottom rung of the ladder leading up to the main deck.
The fresh breeze that swept over Anglhan as his head popped through the hatch caused him to stop and savour the air for a moment. A not-so-subtle cough from Furlthia goaded him into action once more and he heaved his portly frame the remaining few rungs onto the upper deck. The wind was freshening, tugging at his scarlet tunic, tousling his mop of blond and grey hair.
With a quick eye, Anglhan checked that all was brisk and ready; crew stood by the spear throwers along each side of the hull; the lines of the single square sail were taut and the canvas full. Atop the mast four men stood upon the crow's-nest, eyes shielded against the low sun. Casting his gaze further afield, the captain could see the dust from his outrunners spread out around the landship. Should danger approach they would light warning flares and sound their curhorns.