Back in his pavilion, Ullsaard sat on a stool while the surgeon, Luaarit, swabbed the wound on his shoulder. Harrakil and Meesiu, the First Captain of the Sixth, were in attendance; the other legion commanders were leading the pursuit of the broken Mekhani army.

  "You were lucky," said Luaarit. "The blow just missed the bone. You could have lost your arm. As it is, you'll never have full movement again, there's too much damage to the muscle."

  Ullsaard grunted in reply, gritting his teeth as he lifted his arms at the surgeon's gesture, allowing him to wind a long bandage across the king's chest and shoulder.

  "Do we head hotwards again?" asked Meesiu. "We took Mekhani prisoners and they hint that another army is being raised in the desert. There's a lot of nonsense too, about this reborn king of theirs and a great city."

  "Their new king lies in chains," said Ullsaard, wincing as Luaarit pulled the bandage tight. He considered the situation for a moment. "Without that twisted monstrosity, I don't think this other army will be as much of a threat. Five legions should be enough to keep them at bay. I'll make Harrakil general."

  "And you, king?" said Harrakil, surprised. The commander's head was swathed in padding and bandages, one side of his face discoloured by a vicious bruise. "Do you not wish to oversee the campaign?"

  Ullsaard shook his head. Luaarit finished his ministrations and stood back with a satisfied expression.

  "You'll have to get those dressings changed every two days," said the surgeon. "Do you wish me to accompany you, or will a couple of my orderlies suffice?"

  "You tell me," replied the king. "Are your orderlies up to tending to their king?"

  Luaarit smiled, wiping his bloody hands on his apron.

  "They can change bandages and apply unguents well enough," he said. "Should you get a fever, I would advise you find a more qualified physician though. The wound looks clean enough but there is always the possibility of mortification."

  "I've had worse and survived," said Ullsaard, though that was an exaggeration. He didn't want to think about the consequences of blood poisoning; by the regulations of the legions, such ailments were cured with a blade across the throat and Ullsaard did not know if the same rules applied to kings. "You can go."

  Luaarit nodded, gathered up his things and departed quietly while Ullsaard turned his attention back to the First Captains.

  "I've been too long away from Salphoria," he said. "For all we know, Aegenuis has stormed the camps and destroyed my army."

  "Is that likely?" asked Meesiu, horrified at the proposition.

  "No," said Ullsaard, "but that does not make it impossible. I'm sure Anasind is doing a fine job of keeping those Salphor dogs at bay, but the longer the legions are stuck there, the more the war will swing against them. I've no idea what the supply problems are like, for a start."

  "Is there any reason why the caravans from Magilnada would not be getting through?" asked Harrakil. Ullsaard cursed himself for his loose tongue.

  "The Salphors are not easy subjects," he said hurriedly. "You think they've bowed down and accepted their fate one day, only to find them raiding your columns the next. While Aegenuis and Carantathi are free, the Salphors will keep fighting."

  "Which legions will you be taking with you?" asked Harrakil. He had a wax slate in hand and was making notations. "The Seventh? Twenty-First? Both?"

  Ullsaard shook his head and grimaced.

  "Send them up to Anrair to wait for me," he said. "I can't go directly to Salphoria. I'll need a fast column, say five companies."

  "I am sorry, king, I am confused," said Harrakil. "You are not heading to Salphoria?"

  "No," replied Ullsaard with a heavy sigh. "First I have someone to deal with in Askh."