Part 51

If she thought the sight of the Chimera Company marching out had been an impressive sight then she didn’t know what impressive was.  She was watching five mercenary companies setting out on a long march to the heart of the Empire. 

The columns of troops stretched out forever and she didn’t see the beginning or end of it. 

“It’s hard to imagine defeat looking at this,” Onata said.

“I’m sure they think the same of the Imperial armies,” Greza said.

“Hey, we have the Victor on our side, right?  What does the Victor do but win victories.  Don’t worry.”

“Of course I’m worried.  Prophecy doesn’t guarantee success.”

She patted Greza on the shoulder.

“We’ll win.”

“But at what cost?”

She looked over to where Verin was talking to the other mercenary generals.  They all had their captains surrounding them.  Bodyguards weren’t needed at the moment.    

The generals rode together in the middle of the army so they could continue to plan and discuss.  Onata and she kept a respectful distance away

As they rode out through the main gate of the fortress she turned back to see the lone guard atop the battlements.  Only a handful of soldiers were remaining and they were mostly the old and crippled retirees that helped train new recruits. 

This imposing fortress had become her home.  She had made friends there.  It was where she could be an equal.  She was respected and sometimes even liked.  As a slave the Master’s manor was never a home; a refuge from the world.  But this ugly fortress was and she silently prayed that she’d be able to see it again one day. 

Ever since the generals arrived Verin hadn’t had time to say two words together to her.  She understood of course, but it still hurt.  Once thy find the Princess it would only be worse.  Then he wouldn’t even remember she existed. 

Onata talked on and on about possibilities of the campaign while Greza listened.  She didn’t feel much like talking. 

The army marched at what she thought was too slow a pace, but she had to remember that humans weren’t as durable as she would like to think. 

At night they set up camp and Onata and she took turns at watch during the night along with other hand picked guards. 

When it was her turn it was sometime around two in the morning.  The wind from the moor was still bitingly cold and she sat down near the fire.  The Duke’s tent was just off to the side.  He had feasted with the other generals but she had not been allowed inside. 

Now everything was silent except the wind.  She looked up to the moon with a single wispy cloud in front of it.  The moon was enormous and cold.  Its dead light cast everything in gray/blue outlines.  At night everything was just shapes.  She saw the shapes of tents.  Shapes of stacked weapons and shapes of horses. 

The Duke’s tent was silent.  He was fast asleep inside.  She kept watching the tent flap hoping Duke Verin would emerge for a nightly stroll, but he never did.  Her hour passed in complete silence while she had avoided her own thoughts. 

None of her thoughts had been cheerful as of late so it was better to just ignore them until they turned to more pleasant topics. 

Once relieved she went back to her tent and laid down next to Onata.  Onata was the kind that when they slept they could pass for dead.  She didn’t move, didn’t snore and didn’t roll around.  Greza wasn’t sure if she snored or not, but she definitely rolled around.  Every morning she woke up to find herself tangled in her own blankets.

She awoke to the blaring horns that marked the general wake up.  It was the start of a new day and she hurried to get dressed.  She was strapping on her breastplate while Onata was still struggling with her shirt. 

If she got there before the allied generals arrived then she might have a chance to speak with Duke Verin.

Once ready she went out into the gray sunlight of a clear, late winter day.  She didn’t see any generals so ran over to the Duke’s tent and took up her position beside the entrance. 

The guard that was the last of the night watch was sitting by the fire, staring into the embers.  When he looked over and saw her he stared at her for a few moments and then scratched his face. 

“Oh, yeah.  The Duke wants to see you as soon as you arrive,” he said in a half-awake voice. 

“Right now?”

“Yeah, he told me about a half hour ago.”

“Of course.”

She straightened up, cleared her throat and rang the small bell beside the entrance. 

“Who is it?”  Verin called out from inside the tent.

“Trooper Greza.  You wished to see me?”

“Come in.”

She entered through the flap and found Verin fully dressed in his armor standing over a table of maps.  He wore a solid metal breastplate with chainmail on the sleeves over his black winter coat.  His thick leather belt held two pistols and a long curved sword.  His conical helmet with chainmail hanging off the sides and back sat on the table covering a few maps. 

He didn’t look up. 

“Greza, come take a look.”

She walked over and looked down at the map.

“Here we have what we know to be the Second Imperial Legion.  It’s near the city of Ishover and we can’t take them.  It sits at a four way crossroads for major supply routes.  Strategically it’s vital.  Over here we have the city of Doranav where a slave and peasant uprising is taking place.  If we hurry we can aid this uprising and capture the city without much of a fight, but the city isn’t strategically useful.”

“What do your allies say?”  She asked.

“To take the more important Ishover.”

“And what do you say?”

“I say…I say that I don’t know.”

“But you do, don’t you.”

“My heart says to help the rebellion in Doranav.  We can add their strength to ours and encourage more revolts across the Empire.”

“Then why ask me?”

“I like different points of view.” 

She could tell he was hiding something.  She could always tell when he was lying. 

“Is that all?”

She made sure to lock her eyes with his.  He looked away first. 

“I trust your opinion,” he said.

“I’m just a soldier.”

“You’re not just a soldier.  Now tell me what you think.”

“In the short term, yes, the crossroads would be better.  But if we can help the rebellion and other rebels see this, they’ll be more inclined to help us and it’ll be better in the long run as we march through the Empire.  They’ll hear of us coming and act.”

“Can we survive the short term until we take the crossroads?”

“Depends on how fast we can march.  Most of your army is human.”

“And we’re weak and slow.”

“They have limitations.”

“So, if we can march to Doranav and then to Ishover fast enough, we can secure it in time.”

“That’s my opinion.”

“Then that’s what I’ll tell the others.”

“Don’t base your judgments on my assessment.”

He only smiled. 

Then the other generals came in.  They were talking loudly and making jokes she had heard from them before.  Lord Decaron was leading the way and when he saw her he threw his arms open. 

“If it isn’t my favorite Elfin Ork girl!  Please, sit with us and share in our council,” Decaron said.

“I already asked her what she thought,” Verin said.

“Oh, what a shame.  I missed it.” 

“What does it matter what she thinks?”  One of the other mercenary generals asked.

“Because she’s probably the smartest person in this room,” Verin said. 

Part 50

Greza couldn’t believe how many tents filled the moors around the fortress.  She had thought Lord Decaron’s army was an impressive sight.  Three more mercenary armies had joined them.  It was the largest army she had ever seen. 

Their camp fires spread out in all directions and she stood atop the wall looking over the sight. 

She couldn’t sleep so she didn’t want to waste her time lying in bed.  The guards knew who she was and left her in peace. 

Her hood was up to keep the wind off her face.  The days were getting warmer and soon they’d be on the march, muddy roads or not. 

“Couldn’t sleep?”  Verin’s voice said from behind her. 

She startled and spun around.  He stood there with his giant fur coat looking out over the numberless camp fires.  He had a slight smile on his mouth. 

“My Duke?  My I ask a question?”

“My Duke.  You’re the only one that says that.”

“Would you like me to stop?”

“Not at all.  What’s your question?”

“Do you hate the empire?”

He rested his elbows on the battlements and his eyes seemed to lose focus. 

“I hate what it does.  Greza, I’m not out to destroy the Empire, I just want to force it to change.”

“Ending slavery.”

“And more.  Equality.”

“Equality?”

“I want a land where everyone is equal under the law and no one is superior to another.”

“Is that possible?”

“It’s happened before.”

She hadn’t read anything about a place like that. 

“When?” She asked.

“Early in the First Empire.”

The First Empire was nothing more that legends.  She hadn’t paid much attention to it because it wasn’t true history.

“You believe those stories about a freedom loving Republic, then,” she asked.

“I do.”

“It sounds nice.” 

“It will be.”

She adjusted her coat’s hood and straightened her gloves.  Some cold air was getting through somewhere.

“Are we going to win?”  She asked.

“I don’t know, Greza.”

He was always so confident about it and it was kind of shocking to hear him voice his doubt. 

“What if we lose?”

“Then I’ll lose everything and hopefully you can find better employment.”

“I don’t think this is something to joke about.”

He sighed. 

“Of course it isn’t,” he said. “I just don’t know what else to do.  Greza, if I was wrong, would you tell me?”

“I would.”

“You’re honest, Greza.  I don’t want you to guard me in silence.  I picked you to guard more than my physical body.”

“What more then, my Duke?”

“My soul.”

She nodded in understanding.  He needed someone to keep him honest and on the right path and to tell him when he was being foolish. 

“You trust a religious fanatic to tell you when you’re wrong?”

“Sure, you’re a little crazy, but aren’t we all?”

He said it with that half smile that was particular to him when he was joking. 

She couldn’t help but smile back.

“I suppose we are, my Duke.”

“Then I can count on you for brutal honesty?”

“Always.  Though you might come to regret this.”

“Most likely, but if I fail then I won’t live long enough to suffer it.”

“Please don’t speak like that, my Duke.”

“Tempest accuses me of being a fatalistic.”

“Then don’t be.”

He fell into silence and she could tell that he was thinking.  She didn’t want to disturb his thoughts so she fell silent as well. 

“Does this Victor prophecy mention anything about a war against the Empire?”

“No, just that you’ll save the world from the gravest threat since the Gods War of legend.” 

“Does that mean I’ll win?”

“If anyone can, it’s you.”

He looked out over the armies one more time and then turned around. 

“We march in a week’s time, Greza.  After years of planning it seems like such an impossibly short amount of time.  One week and then I head out to meet my destiny.  If it was just me, I wouldn’t be worried, but I’m dragging thousands of people with me.”

“They all march for their own reasons.  It’s their choice, my Duke.”

He nodded and then began walking away. 

“Walk with me, Greza.  If you can’t sleep, you might as well keep me company.”

She hurried to catch up. 

“My Duke, may I ask another question?”

“You don’t have to ask to ask, just ask.”

“Why do you believe in me?”

“Why not?”

“That’s not an answer.”

“I see myself in you.”

She fell silent in order to think about his answer.

Verin led her to his study where the war maps were laid out.  Charts with numbers marking their supplies, weapons and men were hanging on the walls in a seemingly chaotic manner. 

He sat down in the chair in front of the map table and stared at it. 

“I’ve been studying these maps for years.  I have them burned into my memory yet I can’t help but look at them.  It’s like I expect to see some flash of insight that will direct me to a miraculous victory.”

“No miracles, my Duke, just careful application of the basic tactics and strategies you already know.”

“Basic tactics and strategies,” he repeated.  “Nothing too crazy.  Focus on the essentials.”

He spoke in a distant voice as if he was talking to someone while in a trance. 

“You can win this war, my Duke.  I have faith in you.”

He smiled and picked up a bottle of wine. 

“That’s at least one of us.”

He passed her a plate of cheese and she sliced her off a piece. 

“One thing I like about being free, the food is much better,” Greza said. 

“You like that?  It’s particular to Ekonia.”

“As a gladiator I got more meat than the worker slaves, but none of it was what you could call good.”

“Now I have to ask you: do you hate the Empire?  We’re going there in a few weeks.  You might see places you know.”

“I don’t hate them.  I just want to see it all end.  Hatred only serves to cause more suffering.”

“Is that from your Path of Light?”

“It is, but I also believe it.”

“Do you ever doubt?”

She immediately thought of the Princess and how there was no part in the prophecy for her.  She was the last true believer it would seem, yet she wasn’t to be remembered or rewarded.  The only thing she’d earn was to see the man she loved fall into the arms of a more worthy woman.  

“I do,” she said. 

Part 49

Greza watched Lord Decaron’s army set up camp outside the walls of the Chimera fortress.  Brightly colored banners and tents now covered the gray moor.  Onata and she stood beside Duke Verin on the wall above the main gate. 

“He doesn’t try to hide, does he?”  Onata said. 

“I wonder where he could possibly be,” Duke Verin asked.

The answer was more than obvious.  In the middle of the camp was an enormous tent with more banners and colors than anything she had ever seen. 

“At least he understands the privations of military life,” Onata said. 

“Let’s go welcome our guest, the first of many,” Verin said. 

“How many, my Duke?” 

“The moors around Chimera fortress will be covered with tents.”

They rode out to meet Lord Decaron.  He had given himself the title of lord, but with one of the strongest armies outside the Empire no one refuted it. 

Lord Decaron rode up to them riding a white horse that was covered in red silks.  It’s main and tail were braided with ribbons flowing almost to the ground. 

“Hail, Lord Decaon.  I am truly honored that you accepted by mad proposal,” Duke Verin said. 

“Yes, yes.  It’s quit mad, but I shall get to that later.”  Decaron then pointed a jeweled finger to Greza without looking at her. “And speaking of mad things, the pretty Ork girl makes me more mad than I have been in years.”

“Would you like me to send her away?”

Send her away?  Of course it made sense, but she didn’t want to part from him.  She had a duty to watch over him.

“No, you silly boy.  Quite the opposite.  She angers me by speaking truths no one else would be insane enough to utter.  She is good to keep around.”

“I thought so as well.” 

Decaron flipped some of his beaded braids back behind his shoulder and looked up at the Chimera fortress.  One eyebrow raised along with a corner of his mouth.  

“You still haven’t gained any sense of beauty: eyes always on what needs to be done at the moment and never on what gladdens the heart.”

“You may decorate your quarters as you will.”

“That goes without saying.” 

Then they led Decaron and his officers into the fortress where they dismounted and handed their rides to servants.  As Decaron dismounted Greza noticed that his boots’ heals were higher, almost in the fashion of noble women.  He also wore a two handed sword on his back.  Unlike everything Decaron surrounded himself with, this sword was old, battered and undecorated.  There were chinks in the blade and cuts along the handguard.  That blade had seen heavy fighting during its life.  It was the kind of sword that was so large a soldier had to wield it more like a quarter staff than a sword.  It took strength and skill and if Decaron wielded a blade like that, then he was no one to be trifled with. 

She wondered if his appearance was a calculation: an act to deceive and make others underestimate him.  

They led him into Verin’s office where the war table was.  A map of the Empire and surrounding countries covered it with red wooden markers showing the locations of every Imperial unit they knew of.  Blue markers showed allied armies.  There were more red than blue. 

“Doesn’t look promising,” Decaron. 

“It’s not as bad as it appears,” Verin said.  

“And how do you figure that?”

“Each one of our blue chips is equal to two of theirs.”

“That’s optimistic.”

“Realistic.  Imperial troops are soft.  Their officers haven’t had real combat experience in decades.  We’re loaded with veterans and the best training.”

“But that still wouldn’t be enough.  What’s your game, Duke Verin?”  Decaron asked.

Verin smiled and leaned over the map looking at it as if he saw something the others didn’t.

“Rebellion.  Insurrection.”

“You think slave and peasant uprisings will be enough of a distraction?”

“No, I’m thinking that if we do it right, they’ll be all we need.” 

Decaron laughed and waved his hand as if to dismiss the map. 

“Be honest with me, Verin.  What are our chances?  I’ve been doing the math in my head over and over again and I keep coming up short.”

“It’s not about math.”

“I beg to differ.”

Greza saw the solution to Decaron’s problem.  He was looking at the Empire as a monolithic whole.  It wasn’t.  Their armies wouldn’t be gathered into one giant force.  They would be spread out to protect the nobility’s land and cities. 

“My lords, if I may,” Greza said.  “The Imperial forces will be spread out all across the Empire.  As a whole, yes, they over power us.  But we will take them piece by piece.” 

Verin smiled at her and turned back to Decaron. 

“She understands.”

“I understand as well, but I still wouldn’t put money on our odds.”

She watched as they got into the details of the planning.  She was surprised to learn that the Duke already had agents within the Empire stirring up the peasants and slaves.

How long had he been planning this? 

She looked for Roristan on the map and found the small province where her former masters lived.   It was on the Eastern side of the Empire and was certainly in the path of the invasion. 

She began to wonder what it would be like to return to her former masters as part of an invading army.  Would they even recognize her?  In all likelihood they would have fled before she ever arrived. 

“So, why now, Verin?”  Decaron asked.

“The emperor is on his deathbed.  He’ll pass on any day now.  His heir is more concerned with debauchery than ruling the Empire.”

“Doesn’t that mean that his more able advisors and generals will rule?”

“He only takes the advice of his closest friends and all they care about is their vices.”

Decaron nodded. 

“A fault in leadership.”

“Exactly.”

“Who is the Emperor now?  That forty year old Dark Elf?”

“Carata Nicoria.  He’s the eldest, though not the brightest.”

“And he’s as bad as you say?  Let us hope he is.  His stupidity is the only thing that can save us now.”

As Duke Verin and Lord Decaron left the map to have some refreshments, she took the opportunity to peer over the map.  A major highway led right past Roristan.  The invasion would travel along the highway.  Returning to her former place of enslavement was unavoidable.  She didn’t know what memories or emotions she’d find there but it had her worried.  

She wasn’t that slave anymore so why should she still be frightened.  Deep inside her dreams she still feared being forced back into slavery where she had no free will and no choices.  She would rather die than return to that life.

Part 48

Greza couldn’t sleep that night.  The next morning would start her first day as Duke Verin’s body guard.  She’d be spending every day near him and she wondered if she could handle it.  Would she allow herself to be distracted and fail him?  Would she let him down? 

But what worried her the most was this Princess.  No matter what she did she was destined to not be in love with the Duke.  He had a different destiny planned out.  It hurt to know that she had lost the game long before she had ever started playing.  She was ignored by the prophecy and was doomed to be within arms reach of what she wanted but to never get it. 

The prophecy was turning out to be more of a curse.

Where was her happy ending in all of this?  Was she not mentioned because she’d die soon?  With her part over was her time on stage finished?  Would she be forced off or would she simply vanish from sight and mind?  Either way there was no happy ending for her. 

She had to remind herself that she didn’t do this for a happy ending, but because it was the right thing to do.

Once the Princess was revealed there would be no way she could watch the two of them fall in love.   At that time she would make her bow and exit the stage.  The Divine Lights could ask a great deal from anyone but that would be beyond her ability to bear.  She had limits and that was a limit she knew she couldn’t cross. 

The next morning Onata and she reported to the Duke’s quarters.  The guard knocked and Verin called out for them to enter. 

He was sitting at his desk in a simple black night robe and writing letters. 

“Preparations, my Duke?”  Greza asked. 

“Indeed they are.  Are you two ready for a war like none of us had ever seen?”  He asked.

She had no idea if she was ready or not.  She had seen an Imperial army column marching past the manor once.  It stretched on forever and she grew bored of it before she ever saw the end. 

“Duke Verin, may I ask a question?” Onata said.

“Of course.”

“Why?”

He put his pen down and turned in his chair to face them. 

“How long has the Empire been around?”  He asked.

“One thousand five hundred and seventy two years,” Greza said.

“And that’s one thousand five hundred and seventy two years of slavery, domination, tyranny and degradation.  Onata, you know first hand what it means to be a slave in the Empire.” Onata cleared her throat and scratched her ear.  “Even if a master treats a slave ‘well’ they still don’t have their dignity or freedom.  Then there are the beatings, privations and much worse things.

“This system can’t be left to stand.  We have to do something to stop this or our ancestors will condemn us for being cowards.”

“Then its not revenge,” Onata said. 

He shook his head. 

“It was never about revenge.  It’s about hope for our future generations.  I’m not going to let our children live in a world like that.”

He turned back to his papers. 

“You’re not going to let your children go through what we did, are you?”  He asked.

“My children?  I don’t plan to have…well…No.  I don’t want anyone to live through what I did.”

“Exactly.  That’s why I’m gambling all we have on this war.”

After writing the letters he went into his bedroom and eventually came out fully dressed.  They followed him to a meeting with his officers where they began to plan out the war. 

Greza paid careful attention.  She wanted to see how he thought.  She saw that he anticipated several reactions by the enemy and made contingency plans for each one.  He put himself in the place of the enemy general. 

He continued throughout the day to reference one of his officers, a thin man with glasses.  He was the officer in charge of logistics and could run numbers without pausing.  He knew exactly how many pounds of supplies would move their armies how many miles. 

“Richkurk, I want you to hand pick one platoon of your scouts and send them out to harass enemy supply lines.  That will be their job for the duration of the war.  I need them to keep the pressure continuous.  Recruit locals, freed slaves.  Don’t let them breath,” Verin said.

“Well, two of my top picks would be Onata and Greza, but I suppose they’re occupied,” Richkurk said, sending them a quick wink. 

“That they are but you have plenty of good soldiers to choose from.”

“And how long will that last?”

Verin looked him in the eye and neither of them said a word. 

“When do we march?” Tempest asked. 

“Before spring.  I want to be in position before they realize it.”

That soon?  That was only a month away.  Was that enough to prepare for war against the largest Empire the land had ever seen? 

The image of countless Imperial soldiers swarming their position like a flooded river remained in her mind as she went through the day.  Her eyes remained on alert looking for any danger to Verin, but her mind was also engaged. 

During dinner Alethia waved her over to her couch where she picked at a plate of thinly cut meats and cheeses. 

“I see you’ve brought Onata over to our side,” Alethia said. 

“Have you had a chance to talk to the Duke?”

“Not lately.  He’s understandably preoccupied with this war and since I know nothing of military strategy I’ve been waiting it out on the sides.”

“He’s not in a mood to listen, then.”

“For him the anticipation is always the worst.  Once the war starts he’ll sweeten up.”

“Enough to believe us?”

“Probably not.”

She didn’t like waiting until the largest war the world had seen in over a thousand years began to approach the subject of the Lost Victor. 

“We need more proof,” Greza said. 

“Find the Witness and the Princess.  Then you’ll have your proof.”

“But without that book I don’t know how to find them.”

She lowered her wind glass from her lips and looked at her with a puzzled expression. 

“You don’t have to find them.  If they’re part of the prophecy, they will find him.  Everything will fall into place.  All you must do is keep your eyes open.”

“And watch the Duke’s back at the same time.”

“It’s one and the same.”

“You make it sound easy.”

“It won’t be.  Nothing worth doing ever is.”

Part 47

Greza didn’t see the assassin until it was too late.  Now she stood over his blood covered body wondering what would have happened if Onata: the Protector hadn’t been there. 

“Who’s trying to kill the Duke?”  Onata asked. 

Greza kneeled down next to the body and began going through it.  They had people staring at them and the Duke, but she ignored them. 

Rumors would be all over the barracks by dinner. 

“My guess,” Onata said, “is that it’s someone who know he’s the Promised Victor.”

“You’re starting to believe, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t say that.”

Greza didn’t push the issue but inside she was smiling. 

“Someone kidnapped him so maybe they want to deal with him now,” Greza said. 

From his “warrior plates” around his neck they found his name and unit.  While the mock battle continued on they went to the man’s barracks and began looking through his stuff.  He had no journal, no letters and nothing beyond what the Company had issued him. 

“This man left us with nothing,” Onata said and kicked the man’s footlocker closed. 

“You think they have more than one agent?”  Greza asked. 

“That’s an unpleasant thought.”

“We’re not paid to think happy thoughts.  We’re paid to serve the Duke.”

“Ah, yes, Your Duke.”

“He’s your Duke as well and if we can’t protect him then we’ll fail in our duty.”

“Remember that man you fought at the border?”

“Of course.”

“You think this has something to do with him?  What I mean is…do you think this is the Empire?  They have to know what the Duke’s planning.”

That was indeed an unpleasant thought.  If the Empire wanted Verin dead, they had a lot of resources to throw at him. 

“I think we need more information.  If the Duke is in danger, we have to find out by who and we have to protect him.”

“He has his officers.”

“Who are too busy to watch his back all the time.”

“Grez, do you want to watch the Duke’s back or his backside?”

“What?  How can you even suggest that?”

“Ha!  It’s true isn’t it?”

What angered Greza the most was that Onata was partially right.  She did enjoy looking at Verin. But it was more than that.  He was the Victor and dark forces would oppose him.  He needed to be protected so he could fulfill his destiny. 

“If he dies, the darkness wins and we’ll both be out of a job,” Greza said. 

Onata elbowed her and winked. 

“Say what you will, Grez, I can see the bloom of love.”

“Shut up.”

After the mock battle they interviewed all his squad mates one by one.  By all accounts he was a quiet man who kept his own council and never made friends with anyone.  He claimed to be from Ekonia but his accent had been wrong.  It sounded more Imperial. 

After dinner they reported what few findings they had to Duke Verin. 

“It was a matter of time before they found out,” Verin said.

“Then we don’t have the element of surprise,” Tempest said.

“I never counted on it.  But their spies seeing a threat and the Emperor mobilizing his armies are two very different things.  His spies deal with intelligence and politicians seem to avoid intelligence at all costs,” Verin said.

“That’s cute,” Tempest said. 

“I can use my magic to find out who this assassin was,” Alethia said.

“No, don’t waste it on this.  He was one man,” Verin said.

“For now.  There’ll be others,” Tempest said. 

“I agree, my Duke,” Greza said.  “We have to assume that whoever sent this man will send others.  In all probability it is the Empire.”

She wasn’t sure she believed that.  In her heart she felt the man had been sent by whatever dark forces had kidnapped the Victor.  But logic said “the Empire” so that was what she reported. 

“Then what do you suggest?  I lead a war with one eye on the enemy and one eye on my own back?”

“No, I suggest you have dedicated body guards with you at all times,” Greza said. 

“I concur,” Onata said. 

“Sounds like they’re volunteering,” Alethia said. 

“Wait, that’s not what I was implying,” Onata said. 

Verin laughed. 

“Makes sense to me,” Verin said.  “Onata, Richkurk has told me on several occasions that you have the sharpest eyes in the army.  And Greza, we already know that you can rip almost any man apart with your bare hands and your dedication is beyond question.  I order you two to report to my quarters at seven in the morning.  You’re to follow me everywhere I go unless I say otherwise.  That means you can’t follow me into the bathroom.”

“But…but Commander Richkurk…,” Onata tried say something.

“I’ll tell Richkurk in the morning myself.  Don’t worry about him.  I’m the leader of this army.  That means I get to make decisions like this.”

They were both stunned to silence as they walked back to their barracks.  They undressed and climbed into their beds. 

“That didn’t turn out as expected,” Onata finally said. 

Greza could hear Onata chuckle in the darkness. 

It was a surprise to say the least, but now that it happened it made perfect sense.  Onata was the Defendor so it made sense that she’d be close to the Duke.  Every time she thought about it, it felt more right.  Onata was a part of the prophecy. 

A part of her said that it wasn’t fair that Onata was named in the prophecy while she wasn’t.  After all, she had found the Victor, not Onata or anyone else.  She was telling everyone who he was yet she knew somehow that she wasn’t the Witness.  Since she certainly wasn’t a Princess that left her out. 

A follower of the Divine Path shouldn’t seek our rewards or do the right thing because they expected a compensation.  Quite the opposite in fact.  Often good deeds were only met with scorn and hardship. 

Perhaps being forgotten was her hardship.  She told herself that it was a small price to pay for having the honor to serve the Divine Lights and the Duke. 

No matter how many times she told herself that the pain didn’t go away.  As important as her work was, she herself wasn’t important enough to be mentioned. 

She began to wonder if she’d even be remembered.  It was a selfish, vain desire but it was real and she had to deal with it.  She was after all, just a mortal like anyone else.  She wasn’t a demi-god. 

“Grez, you still awake?” Onata whispered. 

“Yes.”

“So, you really are a virgin?”

“How is that remotely important?”

“Just curious.  You were a slave like I was and you’re easy to look at.  I don’t see how you could have escaped what even ugly slaves can’t.”

“I told you, I had my protector.”

“Yeah, but I always assumed that you and him…”

“He was like my father.”

“So?  ‘Like’ doesn’t mean he was.”

“I’m a virgin.  Change the subject.”

“Sorry, but I’ve been thinking.  The Divine Lights love virgins, right?”

“It’s considered holy, yes.”

“Then it wasn’t coincidence that you were protected.  You’ve been set up to be Their servant for a long time.  I can’t think of any other slaves that were protected.” 

She hadn’t thought of that.  How long had she been prepared for?  Childhood?  Birth?  Did her mother have anything to do with it? 

What little she remembered of her Mother she remembered that she hadn’t acted like the other Ork slaves.  She was kind and intelligent.  She taught her to hide her talents and hide her resentment.  But she couldn’t think of anything Mother said or did that related to the prophecy. 

All she knew was that her mother came from the Long Tusk Clan and that her father was a Dark Elf noble of some kind.  Useless for her current situation.  She wasn’t who she was born as.  She was who she chose to be. 

Part 46

    It was the winters first field exercise and snow covered the frozen moors around the fortress.  A vast white plain of nothing stretched out in every direction.  A general couldn’t ask for a better practice ground. 

The Company was split into two equal sides and she stood off to the sides with the her half of the scouts.  Lt. Daran led her contingent and they were facing Richkurk’s scouts. 

Normally that would have her worried, but she was on the side that the Duke himself was commanding.  She was a mere hundred yards from his position and could see everything he was doing. 

“You’re staring again.”

“No I’m not,” she said and quickly looked away. 

Onata just laughed.

“Oh, that’s right.  He’s the Promised Victor.  How could you not gawk at such magnificence?”

“It’s true.  He is.”

“Magnificent?”

“The Victor.”

Verin was still talking to his officers when the other army began to march.  It was led by Tempest.  Alethia sat this practice out.  She preferred to stay in her quarters eating grapes, drinking wine and reading. 

They moved closer to the Duke in anticipation of receiving messages.  He had horns and flags for the basics and now they blew the one long note for “advance.”

As one the Duke’s forces began to march forward to meet Tempest’s army.  She watched as the blocks of infantry moved in a deliberate pace.  The cavalry advanced in stride with the footmen but stayed at the wings.  A small reserve force remained in the rear to plug any holes in the line. 

She never tired of seeing the perfection of a well trained army.  It was different than the personal, solitary training of the gladiator fights, but it was just as demanding and she liked that.  She wanted to become better and struggle was the only way to do it.

She wanted to be better to serve him better.

The armies grew closer and already padded arrows were filling the space between them.  She tried to see how the enemy would react and see the battle the way Duke Verin did.  The books said generals saw several moves ahead.  It was a game of anticipation. 

*

Onata thought Greza was a fool, but a harmless fool.  Aside from being a zealot, she was honest, kind and brave, three virtues lacking in the world. 

Divine Lights: ridiculous.  The idea that any powerful deity was watching them and helping things along was pig muck.  No one was watching and if they were, they didn’t care. 

For seventeen years she was a slave.  Seventeen years of pain, degradation and abuse.  No kind or caring god would stand by and watch that happen, not if he had the power to do something about it. 

If there were Divine Lights, she wanted to punch them in the face. 

Greza seemed to be studying the battle.  She got that particular look she got when she was concentrating.  Her lower jaw would stick out, showing off her enormous lower canine teeth.  She’d probably stop doing it if she knew she was doing it. 

The girl was as easy to read as a highway sign. 

Onata took off her helmet and straightened her hair.  She had to take the helmet off over her horns.  Only two holes cut into the helmet allowed her to actually wear it, but it made getting it off and on a pain.

She loved being in the scouts, but she hated the cold.  Warm weather was so much nicer.  Good thing campaign season was in the spring and summer. 

She looked over to Duke Verin to see what it was that Greza saw in him.  Yes, he was better than any other leader.  He cared about his people and tried for justice.  Perhaps that in itself was worthy of admiration. 

Very well, the Duke was an amazing man, but she wouldn’t admit that to Greza. 

Then something caught her eye.  Off behind the Duke and his entourage was a bowman.  Nothing strange in that, there were hundreds of bowmen around.  But this guy caught her eye because he was walking by himself.  No one was by themselves except couriers. 

She turned to get a better look at the man.  He wasn’t looking to the sides and had his eyes locked on Verin. 

The arrow that was notched in his bow wasn’t padded. 

Suddenly the situation was obvious. 

“Greza!”  She shouted and spurred her horse forward. 

She didn’t have time to explain the situation.  She had to stop him.  The Duke was closer

“Duke!  Watch out!”  She called out. 

Verin turned to see who was shouting at him.  He still didn’t see the danger. 

Onata pulled the crossbow off of her back in one, well practiced move and threw a bolt on it. 

The assassin was pulling his arrow back, preparing to take aim.  She had to be faster or Verin would be dead. 

She raised her crossbow and took aim.  But he was standing and she was on a moving horse.  She expelled all the air from her longs and tried to time her shot with the movement of the horse. 

He had his arrow back full pull and was getting ready to fire. 

Onata fired and watched her bolt shoot forward as if time had slowed down.  At times like this she was always amazed at how sharp her awareness became.  She heard Greza riding behind her and saw the Duke’s head turning to see the assassin.      

She also watched her bolt fly through the air.  It looked like a small dot with three fins.

The bolt slammed into the man’s neck a half second before he fired.  His arrow loosed and flew by Duke Verin’s head, moving his hair by the wind of its passing.  Her bolt had sunk in all the way and was sticking out the back. 

As soon as she reached him she jumped down, landing on her hooves and crouched down beside the dying man with her mercy knife in hand. 

“Who are you?”  She demanded, but quickly realized the futility. 

Even if he had been inclined to talk, the arrow in his throat wouldn’t let him. 

Greza came running up beside her.  She looked down at the man with a sneer of  disgust.  She then spit on the dying assassin. 

“You recognize him?”  Greza asked.

“No.”

Then Duke Verin and his officers rode up.  His officers were wide eyed and looking around like panicked birds.  Verin was calm as a windless pond. 

“That was a one in a million shot,” Verin said.

“He was trying to kill you,” Onata said.

“And you saved me.”

“My lord,” one of his officers said.  “I think we should get you off the field.  There may be more of them.” 

“You’re right, but I’m not going anywhere.  Onata, you have my thanks and I’ll be more thankful later.  Right now I want you and Greza to find out who this man was.  Find out why and who his employer is.”

“Yes, Duke!” Onata and Greza said in unison. 

She turned to Greza who was looking at her with that “concentrating” look again.

“What?”

“You just saved the Duke’s life.”

“I don’t have time to think about that.”

She didn’t do it for any fame or reward.  She just reacted like anyone else would. 

“Stop looking at me like I’m some hero,” Onata said. 

She wasn’t a hero.  In fact, she was a pretty horrible person at time.  She drank too much, slept in other people’s beds too much and only cared about herself. 

“You don’t understand,” Greza said.  “You saved Duke Verin’s life.  The life of the Promised Victor.  You’re the Protector.”

“Don’t get into that crap right now.”

She waved dismissed it with a wave of her hand, but in the back of her mind she found that it wasn’t nearly so easy to dismiss. 

Out of everyone in the army, she was the only one to see the assassin.  She pulled off that shot faster than the man and from horseback.  She shouldn’t have been able to make that shot.  She wasn’t that good. 

She looked over to the Duke and saw what Greza saw, a fearless man that wouldn’t let anything stop him.  He would win no matter what.  Her mind filled with all the possibilities.  All of Greza’s evidence sorted out and fell into place. 

He was the Victor.