Her father had established the unit early on in his reign, promoting the best soldiers and giving the rest of the army a perfection to strive towards. The guardsmen with Mon now were not large men, but they clearly had a lean strength found only in experienced fighters. They all crouched on their logs and looked ready to spring forward for a fight in any direction if needed.
And Mon was one of them. Mon had led them.
Had he marched with the guard in the Moradan campaigns? Had he pressed the attack at Three Bridges?
The questions made her head spin. It was too much to believe. But here it was, right in front of her, and he’d never told her anything about it.
She’d never asked.
Fatigue came back to drape itself over Elisa. It was all she could do to crawl inside her tent before collapsing into sleep. Lodi had just finished and didn’t say a word as Elisa disappeared.
The questions and observations of only a second ago vanished as Elisa’s mind drifted off into a dream. She was safe and surrounded by her father’s most loyal soldiers. She felt a calming peace that she knew couldn’t last, but for this night, with General Montholon and his soldiers nearby, she could rest easy and float through a dream without worry.
Andrei
Andrei’s heart boomed like musket volleys in the midst of battle. He ran through the trees. His wolverine was left back where the remains of the Scythes gathered.
The only thing on his mind was his sakk, his hawk.
The Scythes had been so close to a successful chase. They’d had the girl cornered. Andrei had been certain of it.
But just after the girl had been spotted, Andrei felt a pain sear down from the sky.
He knew instantly what it meant. Part of a Scythe commander’s training involved the appropriate responses to injuries to sakks in the field and Andrei had experienced the pain and shock before, but it still scared him.
He’d felt the musket ball pierce his bird’s wing. As he ran through the forest now, his hand involuntarily went to the bright red circle still burned under his own right arm that mirrored the bird’s injury.
His sakk had been surprised at the bite of the bullet and the sudden loss of control.
And it only got worse.
Andrei’s focus had immediately shifted from the ground to the sky and he’d felt the terror of plummeting down from an unthinkable height to the forest below along with the bird. The wind rushed past him. The wall of green approached too fast.
The slam through the canopy to the rocks and dirt below had thrown Andrei back to his own mind, and any time he thought back on the bird, he saw nothing but blackness.
It terrified him.
Andrei ran on through the woods and picked up his pace. He didn’t feel the branches and thorns of the underbrush that hooked his clothes and scratched his skin. He only focused on the pain and sadness and cries of help that echoed in his thoughts.
A screech came from Andrei’s left. She was weak but felt his proximity.
Andrei tore through a line of brush and found his hawk on the other side in a crumpled mound of feathers.
His sakk was alive, only barely.
She would live. Andrei would make sure of that.
He knelt down and picked her up in his arms. He cradled the bird in the same way he’d done his sons when they were infants.
He already had the men who weren’t injured gathering moss to make a healing paste for her. She would be fine.
She had to be.
Andrei could already feel the emotions changing in the bird’s small head. Hope appeared again from the warmth of Andrei. She snuggled deeper into his arms.
Andrei stood up and carried her back towards his men.
Now that he’d found his sakk, Andrei’s mind went back to the mission. They’d almost had the girl.
His men had reported soldiers arriving right as the wolverines had the girl cornered. Erlonian soldiers had appeared as if by magic from the forest. A Lakmian Jinete and a handful of Erlonian musketmen had saved her.
Andrei shook his head and rocked his hawk slowly. He walked steadily back towards his men so as not to disturb the bird. She needed rest.
Andrei’s next move would be to get the hawk comfortable and recovering. Then they would move off after the girl.
If she was with a larger group now, she would only be easier to track. The hawk would recover and be back up in the sky in a week or so.
And then they would make the girl and the soldiers who protected her pay for what they’d done.
“Find her?” Jerkal stood from his resting place against a tree when Andrei arrived back at his unit.
“Yes. She’ll be fine.”
The men were relieved at the news. A few came over and scratched the sleeping hawk’s head affectionately.
“We’re all accounted for here,” Jerkal said once the other men had cleared out. He handed Andrei the bowl of moss that had been muddled to a slimy paste.
“Thank you.” Andrei knelt and laid the bird gently in the dirt and began administering the healing ointment. “How long before we can move?”
“Soon. Can she travel?” Jerkal nodded towards the crumpled bird.
Andrei stayed silent for a little while, thinking through the situation. “She can move. She’s tough, just needs rest. I’ll carry her.”
A low growl came from behind Andrei and he turned to find his wolverine pawing at the dirt and looking north. The mounts were ready to move again. They had a scent to follow.
“We can move whenever,” Jerkal said.
“Good. Get the men ready. The girl can’t escape us, it’s just going to take a little while longer than we thought.”
“Yes, sir.”
Andrei bent over his injured hawk again. He spread the moss paste over the broken section of wing and around the bird’s neck.
“And besides,” he said. “Now we’ve got some revenge to take. They’ve hurt us, it’s time to hurt them back.”
Chapter 10
Make peace and only postpone conflict. Make war and win glory.
Engraving
Above the Entrance to the Lesser Basilica at Oxtow University
Elisa
The group of Erlonians fell into a routine while fleeing north. Lauriston led from the front of the group and the horses formed a winding train through the trees along the paths the forest offered. Desaix and a few cavalrymen scouted in front, and the rest of the men fell in behind their leader with Elisa always in the middle for the most protection.
The horse directly in front of her would hold the crossed double muskets of an Imperial Guardsman or the spears of a Lakmian. The horse behind her would have a long-musket sharpshooter or a cavalryman with a plumed hat. One of the generals, usually Lodi or Quatre, would ride next to her as well, Lodi being the most talkative of the group by far.
The forest land became rolling hills of rock and dirt and trees. The hills jutted up on their eastern flank to even higher ground and thicker trees. Lauriston didn’t break off to the east yet. He followed a path almost directly north. From what Elisa could tell, they traveled a parallel path to the great Broadwater river somewhere to their west.
The first few days of travel were uneventful. The scouts saw nothing and the rear guard didn’t report any sightings of Scythes or other Kurakin on their trail. Part of Elisa wanted to feel safe and believe the Scythes were done. But she knew she couldn’t be that naïve.
On the fourth morning of travel, Lodi sat on a log across from her next to the fire.
“Watch this,” he said. It was early enough that most of the camp was still stirring awake.
Elisa chewed on a bite of her trail biscuit and turned to look at the Lakmian. Lodi had a mischievous grin on his face and he nodded his head towards the other side of camp, where other soldiers were in the process of waking up and packing for the day’s journey.
Elisa followed the nod and saw Mon bending over his pack just before a shriek pierced the camp, high-pitched and foreign in a
group of soldiers. The yell would’ve had more of a place at a lady’s luncheon at the palace.
Mon jumped back away from his pack as heads snapped in his direction. Laughter grew in a wave around the camp. Even the sentries in the trees joined in the chuckling.
Mon turned immediately and fixed Lodi with a glare.
“Mon hates spiders.” There was a glint in the Lakmian’s eye as he winked at Elisa.
“That’s an even worse wake-up than a real rooster,” one of the sharpshooters said from the flap of his tent near Mon.
Mon reached into his pack and pulled out what looked to be a bundle of strings. He let it dangle from two fingers and Elisa saw the outline of what could easily be mistaken for a very large spider but was in fact a group of twigs with eight dark strings attached.
“Welcome back, Montholon,” Quatre said from beside Mon. He slapped the older general on the shoulder and continued laughing.
Elisa was surprised to realize she wasn’t worried at all about the noise from the camp. The Kurakin that had chased her and Mon from the farm were now forgotten for a short while thanks to the company she shared. She laughed along with the men and returned Lodi’s wink, noticing Mon was unsuccessfully attempting to hide a grin of his own.
She finished her biscuit and washed it down with a gulp of water. Her mind now went to other thoughts and she couldn’t avoid the topic of Mon’s history. She’d thought on the farmer a lot in the first few days of travel but hadn’t gone to talk with him.
Elisa made herself stand up and walk over to Mon. She reached him as the old man threw Lodi’s fake spider as far into the woods as he could.
“Good morning, Mon,” Elisa said.
“Morning, Princess. I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“No, I was already awake by the fire with Lodi.”
Mon’s mouth was set in a grimace. “Don’t ever turn your back on a Lakmian. Every chance they can get they’ll play a joke on you. Tricksters, every one of them.”
Elisa saw through the glare on Mon’s face. He was still experiencing mixed success in holding back a grin and remaining stern.
“Mon,” Elisa said.
“Yes?”
“I wanted to thank you.” Elisa looked at the ground and thought through how to say what she wanted to say. “For saving me, taking care of me, getting me away from the Horde.”
Mon waved his hand as he stuffed a sleeping pad into his pack. “It was my duty. And besides, the plan was Lauriston’s. I only followed orders.” Mon nodded over towards the marshal’s tent.
“But you took care of me. And I know I wasn’t the best guest on your farm.”
Mon gave a quick laugh. “No, you were fine. Maybe a bit moody.”
Elisa laughed. Looking back now, it was clear she’d been a little more than just moody. She’d been forever annoyed at having to spend time with the too-talkative farmhands and the drunk farmer. And she hadn’t helped with the actual farming or work around the farmhouse at all.
Mon stood up and began taking down his tent. “I’d say you weren’t a problem at all. I knew you were Lannes’s daughter. I should’ve expected you to be off hunting and in the woods half the time anyway.”
Elisa laughed again, but her mind went to the thoughts that had been swirling nonstop in her mind since they’d been rescued by the Erlonian soldiers. She watched Mon fold the cloth of his tent neatly into a square and wondered about his past and what he’d never told her and what he still held inside.
He’d been a good farmer despite the drinking. That much was clear from back on the farm. But he was apparently a good general too. One that the soldiers and the other generals had an affection for.
“How come you never told me you knew my father?” Elisa blurted the question out in a rush. The moments of silence directly after magnified the awkwardness of the words.
Mon stopped his packing and thought for a second, but didn’t seem put off by her bluntness. He looked up at her before speaking. “I had an irrational fear that you would get the idea that we needed to march off and save the empire. If you knew who I was, you’d insist we fight.”
Elisa paused. That made sense.
She would’ve felt even more trapped and useless if she’d known Mon had stood next to her father during his previous battles. But she’d spent enough time with Mon now and she could see something else hidden behind his eyes.
Mon appeared to notice Elisa’s attempt to look through him and hurriedly went back to his packing.
“We needed you safe, not off fighting with the remains of the army,” Mon said without looking back up. “Lar’s goal was to keep you hidden.”
“Thank you, Mon,” Elisa said even as her thoughts stayed on the parts of Mon’s story that had been left unsaid.
She walked away from the old general and moved back towards her own pack to make sure she had everything ready for the day’s ride. She tried to guess at what Mon could still be holding back inside himself and the reason behind keeping it from her.
What could’ve caused the shadow that passed over Mon’s eyes when his past was mentioned?
Nothing jumped out to her immediately, but she knew the reason couldn’t be obvious when it came to Mon. The old farmer was becoming more complex by the day.
She found Lodi already folding up her tent and stuffing it into her pack. He had most everything else organized neatly as well.
Elisa knelt to help him and opened her mouth to ask the Lakmian about his own history with Mon from the past. Before she could get a word out, a voice spoke from behind them.
“Good morning, Princess. Morning, Lodi,” Marshal Lauriston said. He bent down and helped gather the spikes of the tent to be packed.
“Good morning, sir,” Elisa said.
She made the last fold of the tent cloth and Lauriston held the pack open for her to stuff it inside. Her next thought was to ask both men about Mon and his mysterious past. She looked across the camp again to where Mon finished his own packing and turned back to ask Lauriston one of the many questions she had.
“Time to mount up,” Lauriston said before she could say anything.
Lodi stood up. “Another long day of travel, Princess.”
Elisa sighed and stood with them. Her legs were already overly sore from the first few days. Lauriston smiled once more and left to go rally the rest of the men.
Lodi carried Elisa’s pack over to her horse and helped her climb into the saddle. The quiet of the morning and her thoughts on Mon had distracted her from the fact that she was still hunted.
Now that they traveled again, the images of wolverines and Scythes in the woods returned in a rush. She took an involuntary glance back towards the south and fell in line with the other soldiers for the day’s journey. The forest was empty for now, but Elisa knew the enemy would still be out there.
Questions on the empire’s past and stories from the veteran generals seemed so small compared to her country’s current predicament. At least she was safe for now with the empire’s best soldiers, its last marshal, and its remaining generals. And General Montholon, returned to fight for the end of the empire.
Elisa would fight with him. She fell in behind a sharpshooter on a brown destrier and tried not to think about the Scythes and their wolverines that hunted her through the woods behind the group.
Rapp
The clank of teacups and fine breakfast plates around Rapp was maddening. The room was quiet and bright and too far away from any army camp or barracks mess hall.
Queen Caroline and his sister Julia both sat with their hands in their laps and waited while the servants cleared the remains of the family’s breakfast. Rapp wanted to scream. He wanted to run out of the room and leave the palace and head for the war in the west.
He should be fighting. He should’ve left a long time ago.
He would have already been marching west too, if not for divine intervention.
“Rapp, we have a delegation strategy meeting in an hour,” Queen Caroline said a
s the last platter was carried away from the table.
“Yes, ma’am.” Rapp gave her his best smile. “Apologies for missing yesterday, I was praying in the temple.”
This wasn’t a lie. Rapp had spent as much of his time in the temple as he could since the voice spoke to him.
The Ascended One hadn’t offered any more guidance, but the cavernous building brought a peace to Rapp’s thoughts he couldn’t attain in the palace around his family. Plus Rapp’s piousness irked his mother greatly, as she thought he should be more focused on the summit than the heavens.
The queen would be even more irked if she knew Rapp’s plan to bring Leberecht into his divine task. Rapp wasn’t going to mention the full story of the Ascended One’s voice coming to him, but he would request Leberecht’s help in finding the traitor and knew the ambassador would prove a great ally in the task.
While Rapp enjoyed the Moradan ambassador’s company, his mother hated the man. He was still a republican in her eyes, despite his change of heart and service to the Moradan crown, and she hated how much he ate and how he acted in front of the royals. She would never be able to fully trust Leberecht.
This only made Rapp like Ambassador Leberecht even more.
Rapp excused himself from tea as soon as it was appropriate. “I have some letters to catch up on before our meeting,” he told his mother.
“To the front? To General Neipperg?” his sister said, a little too quickly.
“Yes, with both fronts actually.” Rapp didn’t give either his mother or sister time to say more and left the tea room walking at a brisk pace.
He traveled out of the main royals’ quarters on the second floor of the palace and took the grand staircase down through the entrance hall. He felt the chill of the morning wrap itself around him as the guards opened the heavy doors and he stepped outside. Sunlight flowed across the distant Wahrian plain from the east and the morning was as bright as it was cold.
The Fall of Erlon (The Falling Empires Saga Book 1) Page 12
