"The first time is the worst," said the high priest. He ran a finger along the scars quickly forming on the boy's face. "Think of it as your first payment for immortality."
Askhor
Late Summer, 209th Year of Askh
I
Ullsaard sat on the grass and watched the wrestlers training. The evening sky was overcast but the air still kept some of the summer warmth. The two men he studied were considered the best in their classes; Huurit, a small, light man quick on his feet; Nurtut, the heavyweight favourite of Prince Aalun, a man as tall as Ullsaard, even heavier set than the general. Huurit danced circles around his opponent, catching him with kicks to the shins and blows to his shoulders, but was unable to get any firm grip on him. By contrast, Nurtut shifted very little, but his hands moved with surprising speed and twice he caught Huurit around the ankle, forcing the smaller man to spin and squirm to escape. Their mentors and coaches clapped encouragement and shouted advice from the outside of the flattened grass circle.
"Mother said I would find you here," said a voice behind him. The accent was impeccable Askhan, delivered in a precise, clear tone.
Ullsaard leapt to his feet and turned to see a youth dressed in the yellow robe of the colleges, hemmed with red and green beads in a pattern that identified him as a student of Meemis. His hair was thick, curled and blond, like his mother's, and tied back by a simple thong.
"Ullnaar!" Ullsaard declared, swamping his youngest son in a hug. The boy pulled away slightly and Ullsaard sensed embarrassment. He released his bear-like grip and stood back. He offered his hand. "Forgive your father, I forget that you are now a man."
Ullnaar shook his father's hand, his grip firm. Ullsaard snatched a hold of the boy's wrist and turned it this way and that, examining Ullnaar's fingers.
"Not a callous nor blister nor grain of dirt!" Ullsaard laughed. "To think that I would raise such a man."
"A few ink stains, that is all," Ullnaar said with a smile. "Though by the time I am your age, I am sure my back will be bent from perusing old pages and poring over tablets."
"Come on, sit with me," said Ullsaard, lowering himself back to the grass. Ullnaar followed suit, delicately gathering up his robe around his thighs before kneeling. The skin revealed was pale, almost white compared to his father's suntanned flesh. Ullsaard caught a whiff of glade flowers. "You're wearing a scent?"
"Just some oils they had at the baths." Ullnaar's bright blue eyes, another inheritance from his mother, quickly assessed Ullsaard, as an assayer might price a gold statue. "You are looking well. The desert has not been too unkind to you."
"It's bloody hot, I can tell you that."
"Mother says that you have been acting like a caged ailur since you came back to Askh. She told me that you can barely spend a day inside the palaces."
"You know me; born in the open air, I was."
"You are eager to get back to the fighting," said Ullnaar. Ullsaard thought he detected the slightest note of reproach from his son, but chose to ignore it.
Below on the wrestling fields, Nurtut had the other man in a front face lock, his thick arm clamped around the man's neck, forearm under his chin. Huurit pushed and twisted, using the leverage of his body to break the hold and swing Nurtut's arm behind his back. A kick to the back of the knee staggered the larger man, who flailed behind him seeking to grab his opponent.
"Aalun hasn't given me leave to return to the legions yet. He's been summoning every governor and man of influence from across the empire," Ullsaard told his son.
"So I have heard." Ullnaar picked at the grass, tossing it into the light breeze. He leaned towards his father with a self-satisfied expression. "I actually have some news for you. Allon arrived early this afternoon. That means that all of the provincial governors are now here."
"You seem to be taking quite an interest."
"Meemis has told us to pay attention to these kinds of things," said Ullnaar. "It has been more than ten years since the last time all of the governors were in Askh. There is a rumour around the colleges that Aalun has proposed some change to the laws governing the succession."
"Did he come alone? Allon, that is. It would be good if I could see another of my sons while I'm here."
"The usual bodyguard of a few hundred men, it seems. I have sent a friend to the palace to find out if Jutaar is one of them. I imagine the palace barracks are getting quite full by now."
"Nemtun brought two whole legions for some reason," Ullsaard said with a shake of his head. "He's got them camped outside the city. What a waste of men, to stand around here looking important. I don't know what he hopes to achieve, showing off like that."
"He is probably reminding the other governors that he is the only one amongst them to have led in battle," sid Ullnaar. He took on a superior air. "Things like that can intimidate lesser men."
"He certainly has a reputation to maintain," said Ullsaard, glancing at the wrestlers.
Through brute strength, Nurtut had risen to his feet and dragged Huurit around to the front again. He delivered a kneetrembling blow with his elbow to the top of the other man's head and followed this up with a swift backhanded slap across the chest. Huurit reeled away, off-balance. He had to skip quickly to avoid falling over the chalked outline of the ring. He ducked beneath Nurtut's outstretched hands as the heavyweight lunged. With acrobatic skill, Huurit snatched up Nurtut's left ankle from behind and kicked away his other foot, sending him crashing to his belly. The lightweight deftly rolled until he sat on Nurtut's back, ankle in both hands over Huurit's shoulder, bending his opponent's spine. Nurtut's hands were raised in shaking fists as he tried to fight back the pain, but he lasted only a few moments before he was slapping the grass in submission.
Ullsaard clapped loudly as Huurit sprang lightly away, rubbing at his sore head and neck.
"I would think wrestling is rather tame for a man that has shed blood," said Ullnaar.
"It's not for me," Ullsaard replied. "Luia wants a wrestler for some reason. I finally agreed just to shut her up. Noran recommended this man, Huurit. He seems handy enough."
"Buying her a wrestler?" Ullnaar was incredulous. "You know just what reason she wants him for. Why do you encourage her?"
Ullsaard looked at his son sharply. "It's none of your business. You're just barely old enough to fuck, don't start giving me advice about women."
Ullnaar held his hands up in surrender. "I was just making sure you understood the implications. You know that a champion is not going to be cheap."
"I'm sure we can afford it. And you never know, his prize money might turn a profit one day."
"That's if Urikh doesn't fritter it away on some other stupid business venture."
Ullsaard stood up and helped his son to his feet. "What are you talking about? Urikh can't spend a tin coin without the approval of Leerunin."
"That would be the same treasurer who came to me just before the solstice high day to say that Urikh has taken out a loan of fifty thousand askharins; mortgaged against your lands in Apili and Menesun, no less. Then the two of them disappeared to Ersua for the summer."
"Bribes perhaps?"
"For a copper deal? Is he greasing the palms of every tinker and housewife in Ersua?"
They walked back up the grassy bank towards the Royal Way. Across Maarmes on the bloodfields, workers shovelled cartloads of sawdust onto the fighting flats in preparation for the evening's contests. Ullsaard had planned to stay to watch the fights, but the news that Allon had arrived would mean the general would be required to attend the feast of greeting that night. On top of that, it was possible that his second son, Jutaar, was back in the capital.