"Who?" Aalun was distracted, obviously unhappy at the circumstances of his departure.
"Your wife, Princess Meerina," said Ullsaard. "Is she not coming with you?"
Aalun considered the possibility for a moment and then shook his head.
"No, I think not," said the prince. "As tempting as it is to have her around to fuck, I could do without her fawning and gossiping. She'll be safe enough staying here."
At a nod from Ullsaard, the group set off.
They marched along the halls of the palace without hindrance, and the doors were opened for them. Outside, the guard company still waited, their captain eyeing Ullsaard sullenly as he passed, though he raised a fist in salute to Aalun. Ullsaard bit back his anger and let the insult pass.
At the palace gates, it was a different matter. A sizeable crowd had gathered outside, several hundred strong, and at the sight of Ullsaard's entourage they erupted with boos and shouts. The gates swung inwards and the frontmost members of the crowd were thrust a few steps into the palace grounds. They staggered to a stop in front of the shields and spears of the legionnaires, suddenly hesitant.
A Brother emerged from the mass, his pale face hidden by the great fold of his hood. He raised his arm, black sleeve falling back from a bony hand, and pointed accusingly at Ullsaard.
"Traitor," the Brother said in a matter-of-fact tone. The crowd's baying increased in volume.
"Stand back for the Blood!" Luamid shouted above the noise, but the crowd would not give way. He looked to Ullsaard for instructions.
At that moment, a stone flew over the heads of the mob and crashed into the brick courtyard inside the gate. Other missiles — eggs, vegetables, stones and clay pots — sailed through the air. The legionnaires closed protectively towards their charges, raising their shields. Small objects clattered and bounced around Ullsaard.
"What are you waiting for?" Aalun snarled. "Clear a path!"
Ullsaard looked at the wall of angry faces and heard the jeers. He could still see the black cowls of the Brotherhood amongst their number, and slowly the mob was creeping closer, pushed by the weight of those at the back.
Ullsaard tapped Luamid on the shoulder.
"Do it," said the general. "Use your spears if you have to."
Luamid gave a nod of resignation and drew his sword.
"Legionnaires of the Thirteenth!" he bellowed. "Clear a path for your general and prince!"
Having been pelted with rocks and filth, the soldiers were happy to oblige. With a throaty roar, they lowered their shields and aimed the tips of their spears towards the mob. The protestors at the front backed away, fear in their eyes. Urged on by Luamid, the legionnaires pressed towards the crowd, advancing slowly and in step.
"Lock shields!" ordered the First Captain. The front rank of legionnaires followed the command, tightening their formation with the ominous clatter of shields being drawn together. "Full march!"
With every pace, the soldiers let out a shout. As those at the forefront of the mob turned to run, they found their path blocked by more people pushing towards the gates. The people coming through saw what was happening and tried to stop, panic rippling back through the crowd.
The Brother who had pointed at Ullsaard disappeared from sight into the mass. A moment later an old man stepped up, puffing out his chest.
"We're citizens of Askh!" he declared boldly. "You would not raise your weapons against us."
The small phalanx continued on regardless of the protest. A legionnaire at the left of the line thrust his spear, taking the old man in the gut. He fell with a cry and suddenly the murmurs of disquiet turned to screams of fear. As easily as the speartip had pierced the man's stomach, the knot of legionnaires drove into the mob. Following behind, Ullsaard splashed through puddles of blood and had to step over contorted bodies and the writhing wounded.
Like a flock of birds startled by a hunter, the crowd scattered, running in all directions as the legionnaires pushed relentlessly ahead. The path to the gate was clear and Luamid gave the order to break shields and advance at the double. Trotting along the Royal Way, Ullsaard was shocked by how quiet the city had become. Fearful faces peered from doorways and windows as the soldiers ran along the street.
"Where are my family?" Ullsaard asked Aalun.
"The Grain Way, at the bottom of the hill," said the prince. "It is a house with a red wall and a mural of Askhos conquering the Maasrites."
"Did you hear that? You know where that is?" Ullsaard said to Rondin. The First Captain nodded. "Take twenty men and escort my wives to the camp."
"Yes, General," replied Rondin.
"Luia, the dark-haired one, may give you trouble. Tie her up and drag her if you have to."
"I will, General," Rondin said with a grin, though Ullsaard did not feel like smiling.
Rondin peeled away with his contingent, vanishing along a side street. The main group followed the Royal Way down towards the main city gate. Wondering whether gates would be closed against him had become a recent habit for Ullsaard, and he was pleased to see that his exit from the city was not barred. The general called for his men to slow to a march.
"We're an escort of the Blood, not fugitives," he growled to the legionnaires. "Let's bloody act like it."
Keeping step, Ullsaard and his soldiers marched out of the gate with straight backs and shouldered spears. The guards on the towers to either side looked down with surprise as the entourage passed beneath them, but no challenge was called. A dozen paces later Ullsaard was out of Askh and on the road duskwards.
He called the group to a halt half a mile from the gate, where he waited anxiously until he saw the shields of Rondin's men emerge from the city. They pulled a handcart on which Luia, Meliu and Allenya were sitting, amongst piles of hurriedly bundled clothes and small boxes. The legionnaires slowed and the cart trundled to a stop next to Ullsaard.
"Hello, husband," said Allenya. Though her expression was stern, Ullsaard could see amusement glittering in her eyes. "It is a good time to get some country air."
"Yes, it is. The country in autumn can be beautiful.
"You have caused quite a fuss."
"Sorry, my love," Ullsaard replied, eyes downcast. "I didn't mean for this to happen."
"Of course you did not, husband," Allenya said softly. "I am sure you will sort everything out for the best."
"I will."
VI
Ullsaard said nothing as he heartily attacked the venison on his plate. It had been a terrible day and he was happy to occupy his mouth with eating rather than talking. Ullsaard had donated his pavilion to Prince Aalun, and had taken Rondin's tent instead. The First Captain had moved his gear in with Anasind without complaint, though Ullsaard would find some way to reward them both for the sacrifice.
Allenya did her best to keep the mood around the table congenial, talking about everything and nothing: the prices of clothes in the market; hiring a new kitchen maid; the unseasonal warm weather; the embroidery on the walls of the pavilion; the quality of the meat. She did not chatter, but spoke quietly and calmly about these things, as if they were back in their palace apartment.
Meliu picked idly at her food, avoiding Ullsaard's gaze. Her eyes were still rimmed red from crying. Luia stared daggers at her husband throughout the meal, and did not eat. Ullsaard was not sure what she was more annoyed by — their eviction from the city, or the fact that Ullsaard had ordered his legionnaires to escort her tame wrestler from the camp. He had also instructed Anasind to quietly pass the word around the army that any man found consorting with Luia would be flogged and beheaded; the last thing he needed was to waste time worrying about the disruption that would be caused by his wayward wife's sexual appetites.