Ullsaard nodded as he absorbed the information. Two of the mute Maasrites entered carrying a chest between them.
"Open it," Ullsaard called out, pushing out of his chair. He crossed the tent as they set the bronze-bound box down on the rugs. Amongst the clutter inside, Ullsaard found the orders Aalun had written. He waved the servants away and returned to his campaign throne.
"Prince Kalmud is unfit to continue in command of the Greenwater campaign," he told Cosuas, tossing the rolled parchment to his fellow general. "Aalun has put you in charge."
Cosuas's eye widened with surprise.
"He's picked me to take over?" A smile spread across Cosuas's face, a rare sight in Ullsaard's experience. Cosuas looked at Ullsaard and the smile faded. "I'm sorry. I know you've had your eye on this command for some time."
Ullsaard waved away the apology.
"Don't feel too bad; Aalun thinks it's your last chance for some real glory." Ullsaard winked at Cosuas. "I'll still be around when your ashes are drifting on the breeze."
"That's true," said Cosuas. He unrolled the parchment and read the contents, one finger following the characters slowly. The finger travelled back a few lines and traced them again. Cosuas looked over at Ullsaard with confusion. "I'm taking the Eleventh and Fifteenth with me?"
"That's right. That'll still leave me with more than thirty thousand legionnaires; more than enough to defend our new town."
"Unless the Mekhani unite again," said Cosuas.
"It'll make the supply situation easier as well," added Ullsaard, ignoring Cosuas' warning. "Just for the winter, I think. Aalun's been talking about raising some new legions from Ersua and Anrair."
"It says here that I'm to tell Kalmud's men not to expect his return. Is it that bad?"
"He'll probably live a good while yet, but he can barely breathe or stand. Unless the Brotherhood have something up their black sleeves we've never seen before, I wouldn't expect to see the prince in armour again."
"And I'm to leave straight away…"
"No point waiting around for winter. You should take a couple of days just to get everything straightened out. Take what you need in terms of equipment and food; I made sure more are on their way right now."
Cosuas was not known for being easily vexed, but he took a few paces back and forth, obviously nonplussed.
"It's an honour, accept it for what it is," Ullsaard told him, guessing what might be occupying his thoughts. "You deserve it."
Cosuas nodded uncertainly and left. Ullsaard sat brooding until it was growing dark outside. He did not like deceiving Cosuas in this way. Yet for all his guilt, the general knew it was the right thing to do. Cosuas was loyal to Lutaar in every muscle and bone, and any hint of dispute would bring him to the king's defence. It was better for Ullsaard and Cosuas that the aging veteran was gone, out of harm's way, when this dispute came to light. He heard the watch captains calling Dusk and pushed himself to his feet. Cosuas was not the only man who had a long march to prepare for; the difference was that Cosuas did not have to hide his plans.
II
Silence filled the pavilion following Ullsaard's announcement that the army was packing camp and leaving to march coldwards. His five First Captains, each a legion commander, looked at each other in amazement.
"Coldwards?" It was Anasind, the burly Enairian First Captain of the Thirteenth that voiced the question they were all thinking. "Where are we going?"
"Somewhere a lot better than Mekha," Ullsaard replied. He did not want to go into the details of the plan; it sounded far too much like lawyer talk for him to be comfortable.
"But what about the town?" asked the Sixteenth's commander, a lean, short man called Luamid.
"Just another camp. We'll take what we can, burn the rest. No point leaving anything for the Mekhani to plunder."
"And the settlers?" This was from Donar, leader of the Fifth. His wife and three children were amongst those that had travelled hotwards to populate the town.
"We'll be travelling with full baggage. Any civilians come with us as far as Okhar. After that, it's up to individual families. They might as well return to their previous homes; we will be going on campaign again later in the year."
"That sounds good. I'm sick of all this sand." This was from Rondin, another sturdy Enairian, who had been born in the same town as Ullsaard. Though Rondin was half his general's age, they got on well.
"Keep this to yourselves for the moment, but if what I have in mind comes to pass, we can look forward to a summer in Salphoria!" Ullsaard said. The First Captains goggled at the significance of this, but Ullsaard held up his hand to silence any further questions. "You have your orders. Dawn tomorrow, I want to be ready to leave. That includes all families and non-legion persons. Let them know that stragglers will be left behind."
The First Captains raised their fists in salute and filed out, chattering like fish wives. Jutiil, Twelfth's First Captain, stopped at the curtained doorway.
"The king must think very highly of you, to give you such a command," he said.
Ullsaard could think of nothing to say and merely nodded before waving away the officer. When the First Captains had gone, the servants came in and began to remove the furniture, carefully breaking down the panels and rolling up the rugs. Ullsaard plonked himself in his chair, arms folded across his chest. Normally at a time like this he would be out in the camp, ensuring that everything was proceeding properly. Today he could not bring himself to show his face for fear that he might betray the uncertainty that had gripped him during the three days since Cosuas had departed. It had been one thing to discuss this whole affair in the comfort and privacy of Aalun's chambers; it was another entirely to issue orders that set him on a confrontation with the king.
III
A groom stood close by, holding Blackfang's reins. Dust swirled in the air in a cloud raised by the tramp of thousands of marching legionnaires. The last of the companies filed from the town, where smoke was already rising from dozens of fires. The rearmost legionnaires carried kegs of oil with them, which they splashed onto the bridge as they crossed. Jutiil came with a lit torch and handed it to Ullsaard. Normally the general would have been at the head of the column, but he had decided that he would perform this simple act.
It was nothing unusual in itself; Ullsaard had ordered the destruction of bridges before. It was common Askhan practice to deny such infrastructure to the tribes not yet under the sway of the empire. Today was different. Today Ullsaard knew that he was figuratively as well as physically burning a bridge. He and Aalun had set in motion a sequence of events that was about to become unstoppable. From this point on, there would literally be no way back.
"Would you like me to do that, General?" said Jutiil.
"No," replied Ullsaard.
He took a step and flung the torch out onto the bridge. The oil caught quickly and the flames spread along its length and lapped up the rails. As the wood caught, dark billows swirled within the roiling cloud of dust. Ullsaard watched for a short while, hoping that his ambitions, his career — his whole future — wasn't going up in smoke as well.
He mounted Blackfang and turned to Jutiil.
"I want a full march, no delays. No point wasting time."
Temple
The silence that had so often acted as bedrock for Lakhyri's thoughts now threatened his equilibrium. Each moment seemed inexorably long, a sensation he had not felt since his youth. The silence was symptomatic of his worries; no sound from the masters and no word from his outside agents. Too long had passed since he had instructed Udaan to deal with the issue of the Askhan succession. His usual patience was wearing thin.