Part 53

The Imperial army spread out in front of the city was impressive.  She counted the units, taking their size into consideration and saw that they were outnumbered three to two. 

They also looked far prettier all lined up with matching armor and flags.  Their combined mercenary army in comparison looked like a rabble. 

But she wasn’t concerned.  From what Verin said, the Imperials spent more time polishing their armor and marching in parades than learning how to fight. 

They were about to find out. 

She was mounted next to Onata and they were both behind Verin.  It felt strange not to be in the front line.  The only way they’d see combat today was if their side lost and the Imperials managed to penetrate their center.

Tempest was off commanding the left flank of infantry.

Alethia, dressed in a long black robe walked up from the direction of the camp and tapped Verin on the knee. 

“I don’t think we’ll need you today,” Verin said.

Alethia nodded and walked back to her tent. 

“That’s reassuring,” Onata said.

If they didn’t need the sorceress then Verin felt confident of victory.  She hadn’t seen him wrong about a military matter yet. 

“Men,” Verin said.  “Advance.”

The officers immediately began shouting orders.  Signal flags were waved and then horns began blowing. 

The combined mercenary army undulated forward.  The blocks of front line infantry were in the front with archers in the rear and cavalry on the wings.  Reserves of pikemen were behind everyone to plug up holes and to counter charge if needed. 

Verin and his fellow generals had discussed the strategy until nearly dawn.  Their plan was as good as it was going to get.  From what Greza understood of it, it was very basic.  No fancy maneuvers, no tricks.  Just simple movement and aggression. 

Victory would come down to the generals exploiting weaknesses and openings in the enemy lines and the quality of their troops. 

“I bet the Imperials are feeling right confident about now because they outnumber us,” Onata said.

“You really think they’re that bad?”

“Hope so.”

A part of her wanted to be up front with her old squadmates in the thick of it.  She couldn’t deny that she loved the surge of power she felt during battle.  Never did she feel so alive than in a fight.

Her hands clinched in their metal gauntlets, eager to hit something.

The sun was just over the distant mountains and the sky was still shaking off the dawn’s purple.  Dew covered the grass and it was a beautiful morning.  Shame it was about to turn ugly. 

Even if they won she knew this was going to be a horrible day.  So many people dying.  Mothers, daughters, sons and sisters were going to mourn by this night.  Each one would be a personal tragedy.

She watched as the two armies collided like distant clouds, so slow but so awe inspiring.  Flocks of arrows filled the sky going in both directions and soon clouds of dust obscured much of the battle.  She could see cavalry units riding around and pikemen charging forward.

Somehow Verin was able to make sense of it all.  He would point, issue orders and discuss with the other generals. 

She rode up closer. 

“How goes the battle?”  She asked.

Verin turned to her and smile. 

“We’re pushing them back already.  Two of their left flank units have already crumbled and ran back into the city.”

It had only been a half hour.  That did not speak well for the Imperial troops.   

Decaron was holding a thin glass of wine and a servant stood by with a plate of salted meats and cheeses. 

“Care for a snack?” Decaron asked her. 

She picked up a slice of meat and tossed it in her mouth without tasting it. 

“What’s your assessment?” She asked.

“My assessment is that this display of soldiering by the Imperial army is pathetic.  But this is just one of their armies.  They have eleven more.” 

He then smiled and went back to his wine. 

Greza then began to feel uneasy. 

“Something’s wrong,” she said.

Verin gave her a raised eyebrow but didn’t comment.

Then a purple swirling mist appeared in the open space in front of them.  The horses recoiled away and nearby soldiers readied their spears or pulled out their swords.

“Magic!” Someone shouted out. 

As she watched, the smoke coalesced into a looming shape.  A moment later the smoke was gone and in its place stood a troll. It was covered in armor and carried what looked like giant cleavers in each hand.  It loosely resembled a twisted man covered in hair.  It was tall and lanky and its jaws were massively over sized and filled with teeth.

Decaron pulled his two-handed sword from his back while the nearby spearmen charged the confused monster. 

The thing was massive.  It made Tempest look small.  The gray armor was strapped on and not fitted like true plate.  It’s sides, armpits and face were exposed.  That was little comfort because once it started to move, it moved fast. 

With one swing of its long, hairy arm it knocked several of the spearmen into the air.  The swordsmen spread out to get behind it while it tore into the spear platoon.  It picked up one man and tore his head off and tossed the body at the spearmen. 

It all was happening so fast.  It seemed like everyone else was moving under water.  There was nothing that could stop this troll from getting to Verin. The spearmen would stall it at best and the swordsmen had less of a chance.  Onata was trying to load a bolt into her crossbow but her openings were small on a moving target. 

It was up to her. 

She had to go for the face.  If she had a blade she’d go for the armpit, but with her cestus, smashing the face would be best.  Two problems though.  First: she didn’t know how tough a troll’s skull was.  She might not be strong enough to break it.  Second: the rampaging monster was three times her height.  How would she even get to its face to land a blow?

Verin and the other generals were turning their mounts away.  Why was everyone so slow?  One of the officers fell off his horse as it startled because of the nearby murderous beast.

That was her opening. 

Without stopping to second guess herself, she kicked her horse forward, pulled her legs up and jumped off her horse. 

She landed on the officer’s horse and immediately jumped off that. 

Greza sailed through the air over the surviving spearmen and right towards the enormous troll. 

It’s small red eyes saw her coming and its long arms began to move toward her.  It opened its mouth to let out a roar and revealed fat, sharp teeth like a dog’s.  She couldn’t control her direction and was like an arrow that had been fired. 

Its clawed hand reached for her but missed and she flew past it and right at his face.  Greza had her punch wound up and now brought it forward with everything she had. If she didn’t break its skull then it would grab her and tear her to pieces. 

Her metal fist smashed into the creature’s nose.  Immediately she heard bone cracking and felt her fist sink into its face.  The blow shook her arm and a sharp pain raced up hand.

The beast tumbled backwards with her on top. 

Once the giant hit the ground she rolled off and ran away to gain some distance in case it got back up. 

The beast was holding its face with one hand and thrashing around with the other.  It’s legs kicked out in every direction. 

Then something flew past her head with a faint whistle sound and struck the troll in the neck just above its armor.  It bellowed in rage while spitting up blood. 

The soldiers moved in and began hacking away at it.  Within moments the troll was just a bloody mess. 

Onata rode up next to her.  Greza looked up and saw that Onata’s eyes were wide and she was breathing hard.

“I’ve never seen a troll up close,” Onata whispered. 

Greza then looked over to Verin and the other generals.  Verin’s eyes were still on the dead troll.    

Then he looked towards her. 

“I don’t believe it,” Verin said.

“Did your bodyguard just take down a troll in one punch?”  Decaron asked. 

Greza looked down at her gauntlet and saw it was covered in blood.  Her arm felt numb.

Slowly she took off the cestus and felt her hand.  More sharp pain. 

“I think it’s broken,” Greza said.

“A broken hand?  Troll bone is tougher than iron.  You should be dead,” Decaron said. 

“Greza…” Verin said. 

“I’ll get her to the medic,” Onata said. 

Verin swallowed and then nodded his approval. 

“Grez, that was amazing.  That should have been impossible,” Onata said as she walked along side her. 

“I saw an opening.”

“What made you think you could take on a troll?  Never to that again.”

“Don’t want me to fight a troll then don’t threaten Verin with one.”

Onata shook her head. 

“Promise me you won’t do something that stupid again.”

“I had to try.”

Onata sighed. 

“Sometimes I wonder if you’re as crazy as they say you are.”

“Who says I’m crazy?”

Part 52

Greza sat on a log next to Tempest as engineers threw up a pontoon bridge.  The Imperials had destroyed the wooden bridge to slow them down.  It was a minor inconvenience at most.   

Tempest was carving something from a thick branch he picked up from the ground.  He was relaxed.  They were all too relaxed.

“We haven’t seen a single Imperial soldier.  Why aren’t they harassing us: attacking our baggage train?”  She asked.

“Because they have no experience at war.  They’re probably still trying to agree on a plan.”

They couldn’t be that stupid.

Tempest chuckled and continued carving.  His fingers were agile and he carved like he could do it blindfolded.  How was he so dexterous with fingers so large?

“Do you think we’re going to win?” She asked.

“It’s possible.”

“Technically, almost anything’s possible. It takes a great deal to list something as impossible.”

“Then it’s probable.”

“Is it probable that the Duke’s the Promised Victor?”

“Possible, but not likely.”

She continued to watch the bridge being completed as Verin conversed with his generals.  Other pontoon bridges were being made further up stream.  Their combined armies were too large for one bridge.  They couldn’t spend all day filing across one narrow bridge. 

Onata came running up with two bowls of something steaming.

“Got lunch!”

She handed them each a bowl and Greza sniffed it.  It smelled good, but not like anything she had ever had.  She sniffed it a few more times and looked up to Onata.

“It’s some southern food.  I don’t know what it is.  Just eat it,” Onata said.

She took a bite and it tasted as good as it smelled, but it made her mouth tingle almost like it was hot. 

“Caranum spice.  Love it,” Tempest said. 

Greza then saw movement off to the side of the camp.  Two scouts on horseback came riding up to Duke Verin.

“Looks like they found something,” Tempest said. 

She watched the scouts dismount and begin talking with wild gestures. 

“Definitely found something,” Onata said.

Something always had to happen just as she was about to eat or go to sleep.  She quickly shoveled a few spoon-fulls into her mouth, quickly regretted it, and hurried over to where Verin stood with the scouts.  She looked for a water skin the whole way.  Whatever that spice was, was delicious, but painful. 

Verin watched them approach with cold look in his eyes that she had never seen.

“You alright, Grez?”  He asked, but he continued on before she could answer. “They found a manor a few miles from here.  Ride with me.”

Before they could find out more he was already heading for his horse.  They had no choice but to mount up as well.  Tempest and two dozen cavalry went with them. Tempest rode in a wagon with crossbow men in the back.

When they reached the manor she saw that several scouts were already there.  Some were guarding what were obviously the owners of the estate.  They were finely dressed elves and they were kneeling on the ground with their hands on their heads.  Other scouts were keeping guard while people dressed as slaves were carrying furniture, paintings and other valuables out of the mansion.  Some slaves were breaking windows and smashing vases on the front lawn. 

“What is this?”  Greza asked, but no one answered. 

Verin dismounted and walked over to the five noble prisoners.  He had his hands on his sword belt and looked down at them.  There was a middle age woman, two teenage boys, (probably her sons) and a girl that looked about ten or eleven.  They all had the same silvery hair and silver eyes.   

“Why are you doing this?”  The mother asked.

“Please don’t hurt us,” the girl whimpered. 

Verin didn’t say anything for a few moments.  He stared down at them until they looked away. 

“Your property is forfeit.  It all belongs to what used to be your slaves,” Verin said.

“And us?”  The woman asked, fixing her gaze at Verin.

“You also will belong to your former slaves. I don’t imagine they’ll treat you with more kindness than you treated them.”

The girl began crying.

Greza had thought about this moment for a long time.  She had wondered what she would do if she were suddenly the master over her former owners.  Vengeance was usually the first thing she thought of.  She thought of the slaves that killed each other for amusement and the ones that found themselves mysteriously pregnant with babies that had remarkable similarities to their masters. 

They deserved to be punished, absolutely, but handing them over to a mob wasn’t justice: it was vengeance and nothing more.

She looked down at the two boys and the young girl.  They were wide eyed and shaking.  They couldn’t keep their eyes off of their home being destroyed by their former slaves.  Their world was being torn apart in front of them and they probably didn’t understand it at all. 

Did they deserve this?  What would happen to them once turned over to their slaves?  What would happen to the girl?  Greza could imagine it too well. 

Perhaps they did deserve this, but something didn’t feel right about it. 

“Verin,” she said. 

He didn’t hear her or chose to ignore her.

“Verin!”

He looked over and she saw the cold look in his eyes.

“Verin, can I talk to you in private?”

He nodded and they walked a little ways off and stood under a bushy tree covered in blossoms. 

“Isn’t this wonderful?”  He asked.

“This isn’t right.”

“How so?”

She waved her hand to indicated all the chaos.

“This isn’t right.  This is vengeance, not justice.”

“So?”

“They’ll tear these people apart and if they live, they’ll be left with nothing.”

“Sounds fair. But can you honestly tell me that you don’t want to punish your former masters?”

“I do, very much so, but not like this.”

He folded his arms and looked out at the manor with the looting slaves and the noble captives. 

“They all deserve to be punished, Grez.  They deserve worse than this.”

“Do you really want to be known as the man that sacked the Empire and killed its civilians?  I thought we were above them.  Right now you’re no different from the people that kept me as property.”

She shot an angry look to her.  She didn’t turn away. 

Then he let out a long sign and shook his head.  When he looked back to her he had a smile. 

“That’s why I keep you close to me,” he said and then turned and walked back to where the captives were. 

Verin stopped the looting, made the slaves leave with as much as they could carry and let the nobles go.  There would be no prisoners, no house burnings and no looting.  Their army would take supplies and such, but nothing else.

As they road back to camp she leaned over and whispered to him.

“Thank you.”

“I need a good kick in the face once in a while.  Who better to give it than you?”

“Tempest, maybe.”

“He might be the one person that could take you down, Grez.”

She looked back at the hairy, horned giant.  The minotaur was all muscle and was surrounded by an air of raw power, like an approaching black storm.  She didn’t see how she could possibly take him down. 

“You’re probably right about that.”

 

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.”