1

Before sunrise after their second night in Grelden, the company packed up their tents and belongings and got ready to depart by the southwestern exit, via which Izumi and Yuliana had once walked in. And then they were on the road again, urban society behind them, the cliffs of the Firras before them, and gray sky above.

To the bard’s endless chagrin, there was no time to go see the legendary site, where the summoned champion had come into this world. Not that Izumi would regale him with the specifics of that episode to start with, seeing how it raised more questions than it answered. The company kept strictly to the road, which passed the spot in the canyons by well over a mile.

The only thing similar to that spring day was weather, persistently clouded and gloomy. It was also cold, below the freezing point in the early hours of the morning. The puddles along the path were hardened and rime covered the rocks, and while there was no notable wind, the biting air encouraged the travelers to keep up a brisk pace through their roundabout ascent.

Otherwise, progress came easy. Even the tallest of the peaks of the Firras were well below thousand feet in height, leaving them largely bare of snow. Only closer to the New Year and after would the seasonal snow storms come and cover the range for a quick month or two, until spring came and washed the cliffs clear. But there were also years when it didn’t snow at all and those years were becoming less and less rare.

The road they followed was not paved, only a tough, scraped gravel strip under four fathoms wide, but level and well-kept, being the primary land channel between Langoria and the other lands. But the riders met no traffic. It was not the season for trade and the more prosperous merchants favored the faster sea route instead. Ships not only saved a good bit of time, but were safer as well. Pirates had mostly been a plague of the more temperate latitudes, whereas the southern realm had had barbarous tribes of man and land banditry to deal with—although such menaces had been all but left in the past now too.

The reforms started by the King, the money and work poured into homeland security, had pushed the less civilized gangs of natives away to the far corners of the southern peninsula, and the common people knew peace. The clean state of the mountain road was but one minor sample of the efficiency of governance. It was in the little things where the decline of any power first began to reveal itself and was there also hardest to hide.

By all means, nothing should have been left in the way of a harmonious future. Yet, none of the emissaries could guess what manner of a reception awaited them beyond the ashen peaks, they could only guess. And while the outer conditions remained ideal for the ride, the mood about all of the retinue stayed tense, and grew only tenser as they neared the border.

The prior leisurely nature of the trip was only a memory.

Messages had been dispatched to the other side by the Imperials and Luctretzians alike to tell them of the coming of the diplomats and their purpose, but the notices had not been graced with any response. Whether they were read at all, or were merely thrown away, who could say?

Izumi and Arnwahl were both called to ride with the squad at the forefront, and were ordered to protect the lead carriage with their lives, should the worst come to pass.

Scouts were sent ahead to survey the land for Langorian border patrols. If they could detect the Kingdom’s people before being detected themselves, the visitors could have some control over the nature of their first meeting. But even this was a gamble. If their probing were detected first instead, the opponent might easily draw wrong conclusions.

Every effort was made to prevent this. On their first break in the afternoon, Margitte called a sparrow down from the sky and made it into a familiar, to view the landscape through its eyes.

“Wow, is there nothing you can’t do?” Izumi watched the girl with the sparrow on her hand from the side in open admiration. “You really are a whizz-kid, huh?”

Margitte frowned at the woman. “I’m a what?”

“A really great person! It was a compliment.”

“Hmph! You can spare the meaningless flattery!” the magician haughtily replied. “Any village conjurer could do this much. I’m only tagging the animal with my mana to connect with its sensory feed. A trick of this level is nothing worth fussing about.”

“Well, nobody could do that in my world,” Izumi said. “So it’s a pretty big deal for me.”

“Was everyone in your world a fool like you?”

“What can you do, there was no magic! It was not a matter of competence!”

“A world without magic…” Margitte muttered. “I couldn’t even imagine such a thing. Next you’re going to tell me there is a world where people live without air.”

“Or a world where So-chan is nice to me,” Izumi suggested with a sigh, holding the side of her face with a forlorn look. “I want to go to a world like that…”

“Then hurry up and get going!” the mage cried, flustered.

—“Keep your voices down,” Miragrave stepped out of the carriage a short distance away and told the two. “Your cooing carries miles away in clear weather like this. From now on, nobody utters a word unless it’s absolutely vital.”

Margitte gave Izumi the foulest evil eye she could.

A-g-a-i-n, I got reprimanded because of you…!

Izumi pretended not to notice and gazed up at the clouds.

They kept going with sparse breaks and at some point in the later afternoon, they came to the border. There were cones made of small rocks raised on both sides of the road to mark the spot, a white rag left under the capstone, nothing more. Endless, lifeless expanse of naked rock and gorges in every direction. No sign of Langorians. No other travelers. Not one lost goat. The gale from the east was biting and a film of powdery frost covered the gravel.

Yuliana took the break to review the plan with the officers. They gathered around the map of the Kingdom outside, with the carriage frame for a barrier against the wind.

“Our first destination on the Kingdom’s side is the garrison of Firras,” she told them. “The regiment stationed there controls all traffic in and out of the range. We need their clearance to proceed. Brigadier General Harris had command of the garrison when I left, and by all reason, he should remain there to this today. He is a good man, a pacifist at heart. He will understand our purpose and help us, if only we can get the word to him. There’s also a town adjacent to the garrison. We should try to purchase whatever additional supplies we need from there, to last us till the capital. The other settlements along the way aren’t as large or well-equipped.”

“It’s a ten-day ride to Walhollem from the Firras,” Miragrave commented. “Are there any other military strongholds along the way we should know of?”

“There is only a smaller fort at Haal, seventy miles ere the capital,” Yuliana replied. “But it’s mostly a training ground for the city’s force. They do only light traffic checks, no cavalry. The capital’s force itself is two divisions strong, they need no help from outside. The rest of the royal army is stationed further west and south. Or was, until the recent months. If they’ve relocated since, I wouldn’t know.”

“It’s not armies we should worry about,” the Prince said. “Nothing in our reports suggests they are ready to march yet in weeks to come, and last I heard, familiar traders were still allowed in the country. If only they let us through the pass, we will not be hindered again.”

“I agree with the Prince,” Yuliana said. “General Harris will likely lend us an escort, to prevent any misunderstandings on the way to Walhollem. We shall have nothing to fear in their company. The true trial awaits us only at the capital. What’s important is making a favorable first impression, so that we get there.”

“Would be good if all went as intended,” General Monterey murmured with a troubled smile, his arms contemplatively crossed.

“General,” Yuliana told him, “they’re still humans, the same as us. Not monsters. Nobody wants to fight. They’ve no cause to attack us if we don’t give them one.”

“Begging your pardon,” the man replied and bowed.

“Monsters are easy to understand, humans are not,” the Marshal interjected, cynical as ever. “And yet, what else can we but share your optimism? Should words fail, then steel will have to speak. Until we know which to use, we tread with very special care. Alert the riders; the march resumes as soon as everyone’s ready.”

Thanks to Yuliana and the Prince’s assurances of success, the company continued the march with slightly more cheerful spirits, and raised banners of white in token of their friendly intentions.

Although the coming night would bring some changes to the plan.

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2

After the barren summit where the border was drawn, the previously ascendant highway began to seek lower ground again. It did so with visible reluctance. The way developed many abrupt twists and roundabout turns on the course past the irregular rises and chasms, as if to deliberately stall the end of itself, and their progress became troubled.

No grass or trees or even furtive shrubs grew on those arid altitudes. Every surface was coarse and sharp and tempered hard by the cold climate, and the rocks put the hooves of the mounts and the carriage wheels at risk. The way was littered throughout with stones of varying sizes, round and loose, which could make the horses stumble if ridden too fast, maybe with fateful consequences. The travelers reined in their growing impatience, crawled on, and expected trouble. They met none.

Soon the sight of any other life form, friend or foe, would’ve been welcomed, but they glimpsed not even a coyote. Margitte unwittingly made her sparrow fly too high and far and lost contact with it before the fourth hour. It had to have died, too small and too frail to keep itself warm in the winter sky. She didn’t tell anyone.

One unreal hour followed another in the heights where there was not a drop of water and the air was thin, and rather than a country next to another, they felt like passing from the world they knew into a level of existence altogether removed and strange. Every few miles, weather-worn milestones greeted the riders to remind them they were still on a road with a definite ending, and not lost in a Euclidean limbo. The pallid sun glowed through the veil of clouds for an hour or two, a wraith larger than the rest, but no less powerless and distant. And was then gone.

Of all the company, Yuliana was best acquainted with both the path and the destination, but she had few words to encourage her retainers with. The normally talkative and cheerful sovereign had grown quiet and withdrawn soon after the border. She kept her gaze on the distant ends of rock visible through the carriage window, an unusually grim look on her face, and no one dared to disturb her meditative silence.

Like this, the day passed.

After the sixth hour, it began to grow steadily darker, but not only because of the impending sunset. The cloud coverage grew also denser, the air more humid, and by eight, the shower they had anticipated all month was upon them. Despite how cool it was, the rain fell as watery sleet that melted as soon as it touched the ground, and the timing couldn’t have been much worse.

The company deliberated camping through the night, but there was no stretch wide enough along the road for two hundred people with their horses and gear to settle at. Not without occupying a lengthy span of the road itself and making themselves easy targets for an ambush. Being besieged, disarmed, and then taken captive in a hostile land was quite possibly an outcome worse than an honest massacre. They regretted both taking the extra day to rest, and not taking a day more, but now, already well over halfway across the Firras, they had little choice but to grin and bear it.

They rode on through the rain. Soon they had next to no light left. Making torches was a doomed effort. Some of the mages proposed conjuring ghost lights to help see the way, but the leaders ended up prohibiting this. Coming in the dead of the night making a grand show of sorcery wasn’t going to impress their unaware host, who were unaccustomed to such displays. It was better to look a little wretched and lost instead.

Without shelter or comfort, battered by the glacial winter rain, they kept going an hour after hour, and could see hardly anything around them. The downpour was not especially severe, but not a delight either, and made scouting ahead that much more difficult. Eventually deemed altogether useless, the recon patrols were pulled back.

But the last of them brought favorable news with them.

Only less than six miles ahead awaited a gap in the range, and beyond it the unobstructed, ever-green flatland of northern Langoria. No walls or gates, manned checkpoints, or other obstacles could be seen on the way that would’ve prevented the company from exiting the miserable range, and moving onto the garrison town of Firras on the other side.

The idea of being able to meet the opposition under more civilized conditions, with at least enough light to identify one another, reinvigorated the company greatly and they carried on without further delay.

At this point, Yuliana switched also to horseback, wishing to be among the first to arrive in the town. She put on her hooded cloak to shield herself from the rain, and Margitte generously put an enchantment on it to render it waterproof. But the spell didn’t prevent the rain from passing in through the open front while riding and her majesty was soon drenched anyway, even as she appreciated the gesture. She rode close behind Izumi and Arnwahl, trying her best to ignore the cold and discomfort and keep a close eye on the road.

Izumi herself felt anything but chivalrous. Never mind protecting the Empress, she had little hope of even saving herself in case they were suddenly ambushed. She imagined facing a hail of arrows at any given moment, and began to reflect on the upsides of plate armor. Not that wearing any now was going to help her.

She tried not to think about anything and let Toyotomi bear her on. Quietly gripping the reins, toes high in the stirrups. She had never ridden a horse in such precarious terrain before and it made her more nervous than violence. They didn’t ride very fast, but it still felt needlessly speedy when seated high up in the saddle, going steep downhill without being able to see more than ten feet ahead. Instead of depending on her tired eyes, Izumi turned her attention to her mount. If anything threatening came up, the beast would sense it long before she did and by attentively following its reactions, she thought to have a chance to get ready.

Either Toyotomi was a particularly confident stallion, or else the dumbest specimen of its kind, but it cantered on without any apparent care. But they didn’t fall or die and the destination neared.

“We’re close to the pass now,” Yuliana suddenly spoke up. “There’s a small vale before the exit, with a ford going through. Iseling, it’s called. It’s mostly drained of water at this time of the year, so we should be able to pass with ease. Just don’t be surprised when we get there.”

“Oh. Gotcha,” Izumi replied.

She looked up again. Following another curving slope, longer than most of the others before it, she could faintly perceive an open basin spread before them amid the conical masses of rock. And she saw the lighter gap, like an inverted triangle, straight across on the opposing side. Through the gate-like pass, the road exited the Firras and dove out to the plains of Elstig.

Listening close, Izumi could hear the hum of water from in front of them. The rain had emboldened the mountain stream that crossed the way into a gushing torrent, but it was still barely three feet at deepest and never worth bridges.

The foremost two pairs of knights rode into the water without fear. They splashed on for some twenty yards, before climbing onto clear gravel again. But as soon as they were out of the water, Toyotomi began to display signs of reluctance, nervously snorting and slowed its steps.

Before seeing or hearing anything suspicious, Izumi could feel the danger in her gut. Her senses had grown sharp over the course of her long and gruesome trip in this world, and the difference in the atmosphere when compared to the uninhabited mountains was stark. It was the feeling of not being alone but in the presence of a multitude of people, and they were not friendly. She looked around again and could see no one yet, but so oppressive grew the distress that she had to speak up and pulled the reins.

“I think we had better stop!”

The knights in front didn’t seem to share her premonition and made no effort to stop. But her recommendation received unexpected support when Arnwahl stilled his mounts next to her.

“I am compelled to agree,” he said. “Seeing as we are surrounded.”

“What?” Yuliana hurried to stop her horse, and looked around in confusion. What were they talking about? Everything was quiet and still.

But once she had fully stopped, Yuliana’s unnaturally perceptive eyes adjusted to the limited light and she took note of the odd shape on the slope before them. A short distance up the gravel face went a peculiar strip that reflected the faint gleam of steel.

A wall of shields and spears, set across the road. The dark of the night wasn’t total, but so well were the defenders hidden behind their phalanx that their formation became obvious only from less than ten yards away. It was already much too late to think about turning and running.

Upon being discovered, the crouched knights sprang up and swiftly added another layer of shields on top of the first, and the road appeared to literally stand up before the travelers. Signal flames were lit throughout the vale, informing the riders regarding the archers positioned on the cliffs everywhere around them.

Horns were blown and commanding voiced hailed them.

“HAAALT! IN THE NAME OF THE KING: STAND OR DIE!”

Things could have turned chaotic, if they hadn’t detected the formation in time. The tail end of the caravan still experienced some trouble, forced to stop in the middle of the slope, but were eventually able to find a stable footing.

Once all motion had ceased and silence returned, Yuliana stood in the saddle and called out, “Don’t shoot! We come in peace, with a purpose of great importance!”

“Imperial soldiers have no purpose on this side of the Firras!” a voice shouted back from behind the shields and rain. “The way is closed! Go back before we let arrows fly!”

“We are here to see his majesty, the King!” Yuliana replied. “In the name of all the sovereign states north of the Firras, to negotiate terms of peace! We are not many, as you can see! Will you not grant us passage?”

“His majesty does no business with blackhats or their sympathizers!” came the answer, louder. “Go back or we will open fire! This is your final warning!”

Cold, drenched, and tired, Yuliana was beginning to lose her patience. Her anger and frustration overpowered even the fear of death.

“The King won’t see his only child, you say!?” she yelled. “Look closer if you have eyes to see! It is I, Yuliana, Princess of Walhollem, Captain of the White City! No son or daughter of my people can be kept from their land by law! Is it the home of my forebears I return to!? Or a lair of strangers and criminals!? At least name yourself, if you would have the gall to deny my birthright!”

Her fiery declaration was followed by a dismayed silence, dense enough to be sliced with a blade. The riders held still and waited without daring to blink while melting sleet streamed down their helmets and chins and coats and the icy stream gushed below their heels.

What if the Langorians assumed it was a bluff? What if they would take the use of the princess’s name as an insult and opened fire? Various terrible possibilities crossed Izumi’s mind. With her magic, she could probably survive and get away, somehow. But she wouldn’t be able to save them all, if anyone.

No arrows came.

Instead, miscellaneous clatter and rattle drew their attention, and they watched a gap open in the wall of shields. Through the narrow parting came forward a lone soldier with his head bare, a tall officer in a deep blue cape. He stepped towards the line of riders, his gaze fixed on the young woman, as if the others had vanished from his eyes. A look of unguarded astonishment was all over his face, as though seeing a long-dead ghost.

“Your highness?” the man mouthed in disbelief and stopped. “Yuliana? Is that really you?”

Yuliana nodded at Izumi, dismounted, and went forward to meet the knight. He wasn’t the one she had expected to see. She couldn’t know every officer in the royal army, of course, but to their fortune, this was one she did. Yes, even without seeing his face too clearly, she couldn’t mistake that voice, having heard many tones of it in the not-so-distant past and in less than friendly situations.

“It’s been a while,” she greeted the knight with a wry smile, relieved but unable to fully hide her disappointment. “Colonel Foulton.”