Nelson stopped on the wall walkway below and watched Lannes.
Nelson’s lower position was shielded from the elements by the high wall built into the rocky cliffs of the island, making it almost comfortable and quiet to be outside for once. The wind was only a low whistle above his head, while the sun beat down to warm the top of his shoulders.
Lannes sensed the king’s presence eventually and turned and smiled down at Nelson. The king nodded up to him and Lannes moved to climb down the steps to the first level.
“I don’t think I could stand being up there in the wind for very long.” Nelson smiled at Lannes when he stepped off the final step.
“I’m used to it now.” Lannes waved his hand back up towards the second level as if it was nothing.
Nelson felt a short pang of guilt at Lannes’s words. It was his own country and their allies that had sent the emperor here to this cold island of salt and wind and rock and nothing else.
Lannes fell in next to Nelson and the pair walked side by side towards the northern wall along the eastern walkway. The longer Nelson spent with the emperor, the more the guilt grew.
He found himself liking the man. It seemed strange now, after spending only a little more than a week talking with him, that Nelson had lived his entire adult life fighting Lannes and his empire.
The pair spent most of their days discussing famous battles from the Continent’s histories or debating modern theories on government or discussing a passage from the Ascended One’s Tome. It amazed Nelson how easy Lannes was to talk to. If someone had told a young Nelson a decade ago, when he was still only a prince, that he would one day walk along the top of the Fortress of Taul and have an enjoyable intellectual conversation with Emperor Lannes of Erlon, he would’ve assumed that person insane.
And yet, here was King Nelson, strolling along and conversing with Brun’s greatest enemy.
“I’m sorry there’s not more news of your daughter.” Nelson ran his hand along the stones of the wall to his left as they walked. They were warm from the sun and scraped against the tips of his fingers.
“Or much news about anything.”
Nelson turned and saw Lannes was smiling behind his jest. Nelson chuckled. “I’m sorry about that as well.” The king withdrew his hand from the wall.
“No news may be a good thing,” Lannes said.
“True.” Nelson shrugged.
The pair turned the corner of the walkway and continued along towards the eastern side. The octave of the wind’s whistle changed above them with their new direction.
“Marshal Lauriston was last reported seen at Notain with the central army,” Nelson continued. “He seems to have evaded the Kurakin vanguard so far.”
“He’ll keep the army safe.” Lannes looked down at the stone walkway and held his hands clasped behind his back as they walked.
“He’s lucky the northern Coalition army moves so slowly.”
Lannes chuckled. “King Charles was never one for timeliness.”
Nelson shook his head. “No, he’s not.”
The pair walked along in silence for a while. There was nothing but the whistle of the wind above their heads until Lannes spoke next.
“Lar will evade them too when they cross the Branch. He’ll find a way to win this war.”
Nelson had to smile at the Erlonian confidence. It never wavered, even now. Decades of victory under Lannes would do that to a people, especially when they were an already confident and strong culture beforehand.
The pair reached the northeastern corner of the fortress and Lannes turned up a flight of stairs. Nelson followed him without a question. The wall on the second level here was shielded from the wind by the main keep rising above them.
“Lar will keep Elisa safe too.”
Nelson raised his eyebrows at this. “She’s with his army?”
Lannes shrugged and stepped up to the edge of the wall. He looked down at the waves crashing into the spiked rocks far below. “I’m not sure, but she might be. Lar promised to keep her safe.”
“I see.” Nelson stayed back away from the edge and the view of the drop down towards the sea. It made his head spin and his legs feel weak. “So she could be with him or she could have been in Plancenoit and fled when the Horde arrived?”
Lannes nodded but then shrugged again. “Is this the true reason why you came here, to find out where I’ve hidden my daughter? Next you’ll want to know what I did with Epona.”
“No.” Nelson was taken aback by the sudden change in Lannes’s tone. “No. Not at all. I—”
Lannes turned away from the edge and smiled at Nelson. That settled the king’s mind down a bit, but part of Lannes’s question still raged.
Why was Nelson here? Why was he not back in Brun, leading the war effort or attending the Coalition summit in Citiva?
As much as Nelson reminded himself of his plan, some days it was hard to rationalize sticking to it, no matter how much he enjoyed talking with Lannes.
“Lar will keep his promise, that I’m sure of.” Lannes turned and walked along the top of the wall. The emperor seemed oblivious to the questions now pounding in Nelson’s mind.
The large stones of the keep wall towered above the pair as they walked. “He’s the greatest warrior we have,” Lannes said. “He will always fight. Protecting Elisa or defending Erlon, he and his generals will do their job.”
Lauriston
Marshal Lauriston had a decision to make. The army could escape. There was a path east, into the deep hills of the Dune Forest, but he had a promise to keep.
It was a commitment to an old friend. Words that seemed like a lifetime ago that wouldn’t leave him now.
It did no good to dwell on Lauriston’s old friend, but he found himself thinking on Emperor Lannes more and more as the war dragged on. The marshal thought on the last conversation he’d had with Lannes, the last words they’d spoken to each other.
Fleeing north. Retreating with an army that had finally seen defeat after so many years of victory. The Kurakin were still in the south, but the Coalition forces had finally come out of hiding and now raged all around the retreating Erlonians trapped in the middle of the Continent.
They’d been too far east. Too far away from home.
It’d been Lauriston’s idea to split up and for Emperor Lannes to sneak into the north. It’d been his idea that allowed Lannes to be captured in Laine. If that hadn’t happened, maybe Erlon would be winning this war. Maybe Erlon would survive.
The marshal hung his head and wished he wouldn’t dwell on such questions. But he couldn’t help it.
Emperor Lannes had known his end was coming somehow. When he split from Lauriston and the main army, he’d made Lauriston promise to keep the imperial family safe.
His daughter. The princess. That was his focus.
Lauriston had done that well so far, given the circumstances. He’d placed her with a trusted friend. But the Horde had moved too quickly through the south. With Plancenoit fallen, was she still safe?
Lauriston’s thoughts wouldn’t leave the subject even as he needed to focus on the army’s retreat. He stood with two of his generals in a field, watching the army move into the dense woods of the eastern hills.
“If the Kurakin are already this far north, they’ve taken Plancenoit,” Quatre said.
“Means the farm as well,” Lodi said.
Quatre’s uniform was still ripped and his shoulders were low and tired. Lodi’s Lakmian tail drifted back and forth between his legs and he leaned heavily on his spear.
“You think they’ve already been captured?” Lauriston looked between his generals.
“I would hope not, but seems likely.” Quatre shrugged and twisted up his mouth.
Lauriston looked at Lodi. The Lakmian’s face was blank, but Lauriston could tell he agreed.
“But we don’t know for sure.” Lauriston didn’t want to believe the most likely scenario. He couldn’t have another failure on his hands. Certainly not one
of this magnitude involving his friend’s family.
“Desaix can ride south and check,” Quatre said. “If they’re still there and alive, he can bring them here.”
“And I would lead the army east and hide in the trees?” Lauriston shook his head. “I’d leave my duty to Lannes to someone else once again?”
“You have a duty to your men as well, sir.” Quatre’s eyes were hard. His statement was true, but it didn’t make the decision any easier.
“I’ll go get her,” Lodi said. “With Desaix.”
“Thank you, Lodi. And you too, Quatre, for the advice. I have a lot of thinking to do on this.” Lauriston needed to change the subject and give himself space. He turned back towards the retreating army. “How much longer until we’re clear?”
“Not long. The men will be in by nightfall. It’ll be hard to track us in these woods,” Quatre said.
“Good.”
That was all Lauriston could say. His thoughts were far away again. Back to a different era when Erlon was the ruler of the Continent and Lauriston a marshal in the grandest army since the Ascended One’s time.
He thought on his promise to the emperor. He’d kept it while leading the army. He’d done well with it, all things considered. But the war was a losing one. And now he had to choose.
The emperor had asked only one thing of Lauriston. Nothing to do with the men or the country. Only a task for the royal family. Only protecting Lannes’s princess.
Quatre and Lodi walked off to organize their own units and oversee the men coming over the bridge. Lauriston was alone now. He wandered along the marching men and the officers huddling in groups and organizing the camp for the night.
Cheers came from some of the men as their commanding marshal passed. They were distant in his head, like hymns at a funeral. Lauriston barely heard them, but still went through the motions of nodding acknowledgement to the soldiers.
His mind was in another place. He knew what his decision had to be. He just didn’t like it.
“Shit,” Lauriston said to himself as he walked. He received a startled look from a horse boy scrubbing buckets nearby, but no one else heard him.
This was his lot. The lot of a marshal. He’d have to fight through it somehow. There had to be a way to keep both his promises.
Lauriston stopped as he reached the edge of the field. The grass here was tall and unkept. It swayed gently in the breeze. The marshal watched his soldiers moving about.
The forest would hide them. Allow them a safer retreat east and some room to plan out the next phase of the war they were losing. The cheers of the men showed Lauriston the army was still confident. They still wanted to fight.
That was good.
Lauriston watched the wind ripple over the grass again and again and thought on his options and his promises to old friends.
His decision came to him.
Lauriston called for an aide. “Call a meeting, all generals,” Lauriston said when an aide arrived.
“Yes, sir.” The boy ran off.
Lauriston would have to stick with his decision now. Two promises. One had to be broken. He’d made his choice.
Elisa
The cut of venison sizzled on the bone as it was turned over the fire. Elisa’s stomach grumbled. Her eyes watched a line of grease form and drip down onto the coals as she made her mind think on other things besides the farm she’d abandoned.
They’d found the deer. Mon had let Elisa clean it and carry the cuts back to their camp while he packed up their campsite. The old man had not allowed them to cook any of the deer for breakfast, instead forcing them to keep moving north at a quick pace. The hard trail biscuits hadn’t satisfied Elisa’s stomach in the slightest.
Mon now sat across their evening fire, measuring out powder for cartridges. A half-empty bottle of wine sat next to his hip and he stopped to take a pull between each completed cartridge.
Even with the drink, Elisa saw that the old man’s hands were deft with the tiny paper pouches and the powder horn. She watched him to keep her mind off the slowly cooking meat and her rumbling stomach, but also because she was now curious about the man’s history.
He’d been a soldier in the Erlonian army. That much was clear from his old uniform. But how long ago did he retire? Had he even fought with her father or was he gone before the emperor rose to power?
Which campaigns had he fought in and how did he end up on the farm outside Plancenoit?
She looked at Mon over the fire and decided to voice some of her questions. “Who told you to come get me from the palace? Why did the palace guards allow that?”
Mon paused and looked at her for only a second before resuming with the cartridges.
That wasn’t the response Elisa wanted.
“So the plan was to hide me in plain sight.” Elisa was thinking fast and she talked to keep things organized in her head. If Mon wasn’t going to converse with her, she could at least talk through things on her own. “And with that spectacular plan failing, what are we doing now? Running north? Sounds great to me, right into the Brunian and Wahrian armies. At least there should be miles of wilderness between us and them, right?”
“We’ll go north, yes.” Mon took a long pull from the bottle and continued measuring powder. Elisa raised her eyebrows at him, imploring him to continue. “Marshal Lauriston is still up there with an army. We’ll find him, safest place for you right now, I think.”
“With an army that’s going to be surrounded soon if it’s not already. Great.”
“If you have another plan, I’m all ears.” Mon set a completed cartridge aside but didn’t complete the ritual by drinking from the bottle. His hands settled and he looked at Elisa, ready to listen.
“Just give up and go surrender to the Kurakin in Plancenoit? Maybe they’ll let me go live with my father on Taul.” Elisa regretted thinking about that option. She wanted to see her father again more than anything, but not in exile on a cold eastern island surrounded by Brunian guards.
“I don’t think that’s what the Coalition would do with you. I think you’re a political piece for them. They’d use you to keep the people in line and pacify the country.”
Elisa couldn’t argue with that prediction. It seemed logical. And maybe not the worst fate in the world for her?
Elisa shivered and pulled her jacket closer around her. That wasn’t a good thought. Her father wouldn’t approve of her considering giving up.
Mon set down his powder horn and left his bottle on the dirt. “Do you know what’s chasing us? Do you know what was coming to the farm shortly after I left?”
Elisa didn’t know. She stayed quiet. Maybe her fate as a political pawn wouldn’t be so simple.
“I fought with your father, yes. But I retired from the army before he decided to march south. You’ve heard the stories of his battles with the Kurakin and Duroc, I know. But you don’t know the details. I’ve heard them from men who were there. Brutal fighting in the cold against the Kurakin elite.” Mon took a breath. His eyes bore into Elisa and shimmered in the flickering light of the campfire. “The Scythes are their most brutal. Trackers who can follow any trail, fighting with powder bombs and long swords. They ride beasts the likes of which you’ve never seen. Like the wolverines you find near Beauhar, but as large as horses.”
The last description hung in the air over the fire. Elisa felt her heartbeat pick up as she stared at Mon. She tried to keep her mind from picturing the beasts, but the images came anyway.
“You think that’s what’s chasing us?” she said.
Mon gave a slight nod and went back to measuring out powder. “They’re after the heir to the Erlonian throne. I think they’d send their worst.”
Elisa understood now why Mon had pushed them so hard during the day. She took an unconscious glance behind her into the dark outside the camp circle.
“Don’t burn the meat.” Mon nodded at the fire.
Elisa removed the venison and cut a bite off with her knife. It was re
ady and the pair shared the meat and ate a good meal. The meat was hot on Elisa’s tongue and tasted full of juice and fat, though the meal didn’t fully keep her mind off the idea of Kurakin warriors on wolverines rushing towards them through the dark.
“Finish it, you’ll need the energy tomorrow,” Mon said. Elisa realized she’d been staring at the last few bites of venison in front of her as her mind raced full of nightmares.
Mon doused the fire and Elisa prepared her sleeping pad, wondering if she’d be able to sleep at all.
“I’ll watch first. You rest up, we’ll be moving fast tomorrow.” Mon stepped away from the fire circle into the trees.
Elisa had too many thoughts in her mind. She lay down and tried to calm her thoughts, but nothing worked. There were only visions of bloodthirsty Kurakin beasts for her to see when she closed her eyes.
She rolled over and looked across the dark campsite. Mon was by a tree, standing to ward off sleep. He stared out into the woods. The trees were silent. Not a sound came through the blackness towards them. Elisa shivered in her sleeping bag and stared into the deep darkness and heard the echoes of enemy beasts roaring as they pursued her.
Chapter 6
The event known as the Abandonment is the most perplexing issue of the Continent. Why would the Ascended One, at the height of his power, leave this land and abandon his followers? And, perhaps more importantly, where did he go?
Musings on Ascension, Volume 1
Davout IV, Fifth Tribune to the Ascended One
Andrei
The Kurakin marched with an efficiency the northerners could never hope to match. Andrei stood next to his wolverine in the shadows of trees by the road and watched the black uniforms heading north.
General Duroc rode a tall horse. He towered over the other cavalrymen behind him. The leader of Kura broke from the ranks and moved into the trees. He ducked under the low branches and headed directly for Andrei’s position.
The general’s dark hair hung down in messy locks and only the darkness of his eyes betrayed emotion, if any at all. His battle ax was strapped to the side of his horse along with a line of black obsidian pistols.
The Fall of Erlon (The Falling Empires Saga Book 1) Page 7
