"Leave us," Ullsaard snapped at the approaching servants. He turned to Noran, apprehension written on his face.
"Prince Aalun has demanded your attendance at the court," said Noran as the servants melted from view. "His older brother has fallen ill."
Ullsaard, slumped into his throne. "What is it? How long has the prince been afflicted? More to the point, why do I have to travel all the way back to Askh because of it?"
"Word came to the court only the day before I left," explained Noran, seating himself as Ullsaard slouched in the throne and took up his goblet. "It is an affliction of the lungs. The prince's life is in no immediate danger, but if his condition deteriorates, it jeopardises his campaign. I believe Prince Aalun wishes to discuss this, along with other matters to which I have not been made privy. I'm sure the prince is aware of the burden of travel and would not summon you for an inconsequential matter."
"We've only just fought a battle," Ullsaard said, rubbing his chin in thought. The notion that Aalun perhaps wanted him to take over Kalmud's campaign encouraged him, but he was loathe to leave his army to Cosuas without knowing when he, or if, he would return. "There are preparations to be made for the cremations and honour to be given to the dead. If I leave suddenly, rumour will quickly engulf the army. And there's the matter of this unfinished bridge."
"Cosuas can deal with all of that," said Noran with a dismissive wave. "Probably better, he's been doing this sort of thing even longer than you have. The prince was insistent that you attend him at as soon as it was practical. In fact, he was adamant."
Ullsaard frowned and stood.
"Then I have no choice," he said, suppressing a rebellious sigh. "Though I would rather continue the campaign here, one of the Blood has spoken and I must obey. It will take some time to get ready for a return to Askh. If this concerns Kalmud, I should take Erlaan back to the capital as well, to see his family. He'll have to get everything packed away for the journey. It will be too late to leave tonight; first thing in the morning will be soon enough."
"That would be good," said Noran. "I will inform him of what I know while you get yourself ready to depart. I have a galley waiting at Atanir to take us up the Greenwater."
Noran stood and stepped towards Ullsaard.
"I wish that we had met again in better circumstances," said the messenger. "All the same, it is good to see you, Ullsaard." Ullsaard smiled and laid a hand on Noran's shoulder.
"It is good to see you as well, my friend," Ullsaard said. "On the road you will have to tell me what you have been doing with yourself these past two years."
"Well, maybe," Noran said with a wink. "There's a few tales I'm not sure that I trust you with!"
Noran gave a nod of reassurance and turned towards the doorway. At the edge of the rugs he turned back to look at Ullsaard.
"And get your feet washed, I could smell them as soon as I came in," he said with a grin.
Ullsaard nodded and smiled, and watched his friend leave the pavilion. He suppressed another sigh. A trip back to the capital was no small diversion, even if there was the promise of a more profitable command at the end of it. His servants would have to pack up everything needed, gather supplies from the storehouses; there were wagons and abada to requisition, handlers needed for the ailurs.
There was also the question of whether or not to take a bodyguard. There was little physical danger travelling to coldwards; the Greenwater was patrolled by the galleys and soldiers of Askhor and prosperity had swept away most of the brigandage that had plagued the empire in earlier generations. On the other side, it was expected that a general of Askhor travelled with a certain amount of style and gravitas. Tradition and appearance were considered by many to be as important as practicality.
On balance, it would be less of a pain to leave the soldiers and travel with servants alone. The presence of legionnaires escalated matters; they needed officers, their own supplies and other considerations that would turn what was already a considerable journey into a major expedition.
"Attend me!" yelled Ullsaard and moments later a dozen servants came scurrying from amongst the wooden screens.
VI
Hills rose up on either side of the rude turnpike, crowned by stunted trees and thorny bushes. The bell-laden harnesses of the abada jingled pleasantly as the beasts of burden plodded along the stony track that led dawnwards towards the Greenwater. Six abada carts rumbled and pitched over the uneven roadway, each pulled by a team of four beasts. Red and white awnings were hooked onto poles over the wagons and amongst the chests and sacks Ullsaard's servants dozed while the drivers flicked long switches across the backs of the abada to keep them plodding on.
Ullsaard, Erlaan and Noran rode ahead of the wagons, their ailurs panting in the heat. The sky above was cloudless and the sun beat down relentlessly as it had done since they had left the camp earlier that morning. Noran noted that Erlaan was quiet, no doubt wrapped up in thoughts concerning his father. Ullsaard was his usual taciturn self, so Noran was talkative enough for the three of them and had entertained Ullsaard with tales for two solid watches.
"So I was on Neerita's balcony, with nought but my scabbard to shield my dignity, when her father returned," Noran was saying. "I saw his chariot come through the gates and hid behind the parapet, all the while listening to the shrieking of Neerita's mother from through the open doors."
"Isn't her father Neerat Aluuns?" said Ullsaard. "He's Prince Aalun's treasurer!"
"Well, Aalun will need to find someone else to keep his accounts, I'm afraid," said Noran. "Neerita confessed all, and my involvement in the affair, and old Neerat called me out on it. The prince tried to persuade him otherwise but he was insistent. I killed him on the bloodfields at dusk the next day."
"So you've finally settled down," said Ullsaard. "Good for you. Did any sisters come with your new bride?"
"An older one, and a sour-mouthed, ill-eyed, poison-tongued bitch at that," snarled Noran. He shuddered as he remembered his first encounter with the icy Anriit. "Suffice to say, she shares my roof but not my bed! Still, Neerita is game enough for the bedroom athletics, and may be bearing me a child. We'll know for sure once she has visited the loremother."
Ullsaard shook his head in disbelief.
"I leave you to your own devices for two years and you end up a husband and probably a father," said Ullsaard, leaning across to slap Noran on the arm. "You'd avoided it for so long I thought you were going to join the Brotherhood."
At this Noran broke into a deep laugh, almost falling from the saddle.
"My father would have loved that, I'm sure," said Noran. "The Astaan lands around the city would have made a fine addition to someone else's inheritance. Suffice to say, the Astaan legacy is now safely mine once more. I'll not be ceding my lands to the throne and running off to a Brotherhood precinct, I'm afraid. You'll just have to conquer some more of Mekha if you want new farms."
"I can't say I ever saw you as fit for the Brotherhood," said Ullsaard. "Well, for a start, you'd have all that reading to do first. I'd bet half a third-born's dowry that you haven't picked up a copy of the Book of Askhos since you left your father's house."
"I didn't even read it before then, I must admit," said Noran with a guilty smile. "What's the point of the Brotherhood dedicating their lives to understanding its meanings if we all go out and make it up for ourselves?"
"To find personal enlightenment, perhaps?" said Ullsaard, suddenly serious. "I never figured you for a heathen."
"Heathen?" said Noran with a choking cough. "Have you actually read that book? It's so tiresome."
"They are sacred words," warned Ullsaard, directing a glare at the herald. "They guide us, and give us meaning. The great Askhos laid down some pretty specific instructions for his descendants. You'd know that if you bothered to read the book."