Chapter Thirty: Back to War

With Calivar gone, things settled into a familiar routine. A pleasant routine marred only by the knowledge that Calivar was out risking his life in Autumnal and that, as amazing as things between Meliswe and I were, throwing Calivar into the mix somehow made them even better. She and I consoled ourselves with one another's company, her little snortlets lulling me to sleep every night, and I don't think I could bear to sleep by myself again.

I had lots to busy myself with, though Calivar's exploits and travails in Autumnal were always on the back of my mind. I kept up my training in combat, in magic, and in woodsong - ten or so hours in any given week to each - and I appeared in court when it was requested of me. This turned out to be more often than before, now that Calivar was gone. Alvaelic wanted me there for at least a few hours on most days to hear and weigh in on courtly matters, no matter how trivial and boring. For instance, two lords came to literal blows with one another when debating whether 97.5% or 98% should be the standard for Estival's silver, and Alvaelic made me play King Solomon, declaring that 97.7% should be the official standard for our mithrins.

Beanheim officially opened, which occupied another significant draw of my time - Dill and I were the only ones in Estivalia who could grow coffee, for which we commandeered a virtually abandoned courtyard near the old northern end of the palace, using the woodsong to grow the coffee bushes with the promise that some day their descendants would grow in much larger and more open fields. Lines were out the door for 'Princess Laeanna's Favorite Beverage' and some customers were asking for their own beans to make coffee at home, but we simply didn't have the capacity yet.

Every other day or so, there were war reports rushed back to Estivalia, delayed by three or four days - however long it took for the messengers to gallop back to the city. There were a half-dozen scouting squads taking turns, stationed with Calivar's forces until it was time for a new message, at which point they would detach and rush back to Estivalia, upon which they would take two days' rest before rushing back to the army. This was how we got our news each day, usually announced at the beginning of afternoon court after Alvaelic was satisfied that there was no sensitive information in the brief.

"Our prince's troops have continued to the southeast, liberating the valley town of Gold River from the enemy, killing twenty and capturing another eighty as prisoners of war!" a messenger said. The court cheered.

The prisoners started coming, too. Most were kept in Autumnal and assigned to labor detail, building defenses or barriers in dangerous areas. But high-value targets - whoever seemed like they might be an officer - were transported back to Estival for questioning and held for possible ransom, should any of our people get captured. There was also a brief glut of products from Autumnal as whatever merchants had the means to flee to safer realms often did. The Autumnal fae had a very interesting artform using leaves, which I began to experiment with during woodsong practice.

"Our prince's troops have liberated the stronghold of Mount Savryn, killing thirty enemy ryfle men, capturing fourteen, and forcing the remainder to flee into the countryside!" a messenger said, and the court cheered.

At first, most of the news was good like that - if there were setbacks, they were inconsequential and Calivar and Delcotha's army made steady progress toward liberating all of northern Autumnal. Our enemies from the Outer Realms, whoever their mysterious King in the South and vizier were, had ryfles and plenty of men, but those men were spread thin as they attempted to hold all of Autumnal and the army of Estival had enough accomplished mages - Calivar among them - that they could neutralize most of the disadvantage that infantry with rifles represented. For instance, they could enchant their armor to be bulletproof for a few hours at a time, preparing it before upcoming battles to render themselves virtually impervious to enemy fire. So it wasn't all that surprising that they were making steady progress.

Meliswe and I would curl up at night, both of us missing Calivar even though we'd only been married for a month and a half. It's amazing how quickly you get used to things and, living as long as fae do, I imagine it sometimes feels to them like they're living a different life from however they lived in previous centuries. For my part, I didn't want to get used to Calivar being gone. As much as I loved Meliswe, I didn't want to forget about him and go back to just loving her, though her love certainly guided me through my difficult problems, whether it was making me forget my troubles in the throes of nocturnal bliss or simply listening to me and letting me vent my tears and frustrations while she listened.

"There, there," she said, rubbing at my back.

"That's my line," I insisted.

"But it works," she replied, and we shared a laugh. Meliswe, my love, my wife, my sister - I sometimes wondered what I'd ever done to deserve her. She kissed the top of my head. "Get dressed, you'll be late for court."

That day in court, we had another bit of news from the Autumn War, as we were calling it. "Our prince's troops have been driven back from the southern plains by ryfle men and archers and have returned to Mount Savryn, where they prepare for another advance." There was no cheering, though a few courtiers thought to clap at the notion of a regroup. It was the first setback I'd heard of.

I doubled down on my magical and combat studies on the off-chance that I'd need them, and Meliswe was right there with me, working on her own mastery of fae magic and how to handle herself in a fight - and she could handle herself in a fight. She wasn't yet a Mentor of the Fang School, but I had a feeling that she couldn't be too far off. Beyond fretting about Calivar and the war, I kept abreast of the Boomstick Project, offering my own designs for a bullet that I thought would work without gunpowder. Somebody else would have to come up with a new firing mechanism to make it work, but it was a solid theory. And, I feared, we might need to use our new rifles sooner than later.

"Our troops have been forced back to the fortress at Mount Savryn and are surrounded by an army of fifteen hundred enemy troops with ryfles and two terrible kannuns with which they hope to bring down the walls. But our forces remain safe within the fortress's defenses for now and the prince will attempt to overcome the siege!" There was no cheering or even clapping. If Calivar couldn't get his people out of the fortress, it was only a matter of time before they were killed or captured. They might use fae magic to reduce the damage from the enemy artillery, but they couldn't stop it completely without a much greater sorcerer than anybody present.

"Gaia save our prince!" somebody cried out, and the court erupted into pandemonium.

I saw men weep. I was weeping, though I don't think anybody beyond Meliswe noticed it. I buried my head into her shoulder and whispered, "I have to go get him."

+++++

"You cannot go after Calivar," King Alvaelic stated. "I am sending two hundred men - that's all I can spare as we set our own defenses - and calling a levy from all the holdings: one in four young men of sound fitness shall form a reserve army and another one in four shall form local militias, to arm and to train, should Autumnal's invaders come for us. In a month or two, we may be strong enough to send reinforcements, but not before then…"

"You've never seen artillery in action, lord," I said. I suppose it was also true that I hadn't either, not through Laeanna's eyes (which, as far as the king knew, had always been mine). "The fortress can't possibly stand a month against their power. A week would be highly optimistic…"

"Let us hope you are wrong, princess," the king said. "I suggest that you form a women's militia. You like your fighting well enough, and I hear you're good at it, so why not put it to some practical use? I will not have the women of Estival jaunting out as soldiers - from what I've read, what happens to women in wartime is beyond barbaric, and I believe you already know a bit about that. But that's all the more reason to teach our womenfolk how to defend hearth and home, too. Trust that I'll see to my son's safety as well as I can - I am his father, and you must believe that I desire to maintain my legacy in Estival. You will accept my decision."

"Yes, father. I'll prepare my sisters at the Fang Dojo to train the women of Estivalia - we can have a few hundred trained to basic proficiency within a month, and those can help train thousands more if we have enough time. For my part, I think I'll return to Vernal early and petition my mother for troops. It's my understanding that she's sent mere hundreds and I might convince her to send a thousand or more… with luck, they'd arrive at Mount Savryn in time to lift the siege before the King in the South takes the fortress city."

"If that is your wish, daughter, I give you my leave. But you will not go on some ill-conceived rescue mission into Autumnal. Is that clear?"

"Yes, father," I said. It was plenty clear, and I had every intention of ignoring Alvaelic's kingly command. Within a few years, he'd sail off to Elysheim and Calivar would be king - if he was still alive to accept the mantle of kingship. And it was my intention that he'd soon return to Estivalia a liberating champion and not a prisoner in the clutches of an invading army. "I leave for Vernal City tonight."

When we left for Vernal, it was just the four of us on fast horses with plenty of stamina elixir: myself, Meliswe, Alfina, and Master Dhyr, who had very unorthodox notions of horse riding but seemed to manage their mount pretty well. They set the stirrups in a high position so as to be half-standing most of the time - sitting properly on the saddle required a deep crouch. But Oncarans had double-jointed legs with powerful leaping muscles and could stand at a crouch for days if need be. Their horse didn't like it at first but had become accustomed to the strange style by the time we got to the Garden Gate, as the gate to Vernal was sometimes called. From there, we could easily see the Fortress Gate on the Vernal side about three hundred eighty-two yards distant. That was the latest measure and it appeared to be steady, thirty miles of wilderness reduced to under four football fields. At least we were safe from raiders for that bit.

We stopped at the Fortress Gate that night to rest, sending a messenger ahead to tell the queen of our arrival and started out at first light the next day with four fresh mounts and more stamina elixir. With enough elixir and decent enough roads, you could make three hundred miles in a day, which was about twice what we'd need to make to get to Vernal City about half-way along the vaguely wedge-shape of Inner Vernal. Since the expansion, the distance between capitals had increased a bit, but not by too much since the capital cities were all arrayed along the inner "plus" of the kingdoms to keep them fairly close together. We trotted up to the palace around mid-afternoon, the spring air cool and refreshing compared to the tepid atmosphere you always steeped in when in Estival. We were escorted inside and left to go about our business until the queen called us.

Being back in my chambers was a strange experience. While it had only been a month and a half since I'd lived here under house arrest, spending most of my waking hours within its spacious walls, it already felt vaguely distant to me. These rooms had belonged to a princess who was not wed to Calivar and didn't yet love him. A princess who loved Meliswe, but wasn't yet married to her (or didn't know she was married), and who certainly wasn’t married to the Lady of the Blue Fern Valley. A princess who had only been touched by war in another lifetime.

"Being back here gives me the shivers," Meliswe said. "It already feels like a different lifetime…"

"A different chapter in the same lifetime," I said. "Shall we see if the bed is as formidable as we remember it?"

"We didn't bring any of our little helpers. Can't we just cuddle for a bit?"

I nodded. "How about we do that in the bath? After two days on the road, I feel a bit too ripe to saunter into a meeting with a fae queen."

Meliswe was already disrobing. "That's a good idea." She padded over to the mirror, turning back and forth as she patted her trim belly. "I hope my old gowns still fit."

That was a good question - neither Meliswe nor I had the physiques we'd had when she'd first summoned me into Laeanna's body. Hard work at the dojo had transformed her soft voluptuousness into something a shade firmer and more contoured. Her whole torso had lost a veneer of padding, revealing taut muscles below. She'd shed enough padding that even her breasts were a bit smaller, though they were still substantially larger than my own respectable bust. I hadn't had as much padding to begin with, and now you could see the muscles sliding beneath my limbs, back, and abdomen - they weren't a man's muscles or even very visible when I wore a full gown, though I would soon find that my old gowns were a bit tight in both the shoulders and the rear where I'd added some significant muscle. While caressing my backside, Calivar had once mused that he'd married into the finest front and rear in all of Alfheim, but that he'd needed two wives to get them.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

Meliswe and I washed one another down. It was an erotic and vaguely sacred experience, the two of us sitting in the warm water, staring into one another's eyes, delicate hands caressing smooth limbs, massaging aches and tight spots out. Somehow, it wasn't sexually charged, though, as if we could both enjoy that low simmer of arousal forever without progressing into shrieking sexual theatrics. I was content to steep in the bath with her, to take in her touch, her smell, the gentle hush of her breath. And, even as my fingers started to prune, I was reluctant to step out of the water - this was a place where I would be content with a never-changing world for a whole fae lifetime, feeling the reverence of Meliswe's touch against my flesh as I explored the temple that was her body. I didn't want to leave, but the footman who sidled into the room, eyes cast as far from us as possible, stated that the queen would meet us in ten minutes. I wasn't about to show up in a bathrobe with dripping hair. Not when I needed to make a good impression on my mother.

+++++

Meliswe helped me pick out some jewelry from my old collection - I hadn't brought my own and didn't have time to grow any from scratch. We preened and complimented one another over our appearances - ten minutes wasn't much time to prepare to meet the queen, but Meliswe cleaned up good, and the way her eyes greedily took me in sugested that I wasn't too shabby, myself. Meliswe wore the gown that her mother had once gifted her. Its back had a draw system that could cinch it past the normal setting, so it fit just fine over her now-slimmer physique. My own gown was aquamarine and silver, and I managed to leave enough give for my sleek shoulder muscles by leaving the topmost button undone in the back. Meliswe tucked the extra button under the fabric and assured me it looked fine.

"What about the front?" I asked.

"If I told you how you looked, it might inflate your already-considerable ego, princess. Let's not keep your mother waiting!"

The queen met us in a small council room I'd only been in once before, a room next to her solarium, where she preferred to do most of her meetings during the day. It was late evening, with the indigo violet of the sky barely-illuminating the solarium as we crossed. The whole wing of the palace, usually bustling with activity, was silent, the air just a bit too chilly to be comfortable. Now I remembered why I'd often worn a shawl at night in the palace - Vernal was noticeably cooler than Estival, even indoors. Our footsteps echoed in the empty palace, the still, cool air seeming to magnify every sound. When we reached the council room, the lieutenant at the door checked to make sure the queen was ready to see us and ushered us inside.

Before I could even curtsy to the queen, she rushed over me and wrapped me in a mamma bear hug, kissing both my cheeks before pushing me back to get a good look at me. She squeezed my shoulder.

"My, you're solid, she said."

"I've been keeping active, mother. It's good to see you."

"Likewise, child. I wish it were under better circumstances. And I hear our Lady Meliswe now has her own holding in the wild new tracts of Estival?"

"Yes, my queen," Meliswe said. "Not large or well-developed, but we think it will be prosperous before too long." In fae terms, 'before too long' meant anything less than about three centuries - twice the age of the United States!

"Wonderful. I hope to try some of this caw-fee that Laeanna has said you've found there. It's like tea from beans, I've heard?"

"Like that," I agreed. "I'll have some sent to you… though it's an acquired taste."

"Most things worth tasting are. Speaking of taste… how are you finding Prince Calivar?"

"Very much to my taste…"

"To our taste," Meliswe said, squeezing my hand. "We're worried for him - and the rest of his army, of course - your majesty. We thought to petition you for a force to break the siege at Mount Savryn and continue our campaign to liberate Autumnal. Without help… we fear what will happen to our husband."

The queen poured a little wine into each of the three glasses at the table. "Well fret yourself no longer. After discussing the matter with Captain Vittoro, I've prepared an army of eighteen hundred to assist our allies in Autumnal. He'll leave at noontime tomorrow and will traverse the wilderness to invade the tip of Autumnal and proceed from there."

I shook my head. "My husband is besieged at Mount Savryn two hundred miles from the western tip. The fastest way to reach him is through Estival, which the king has authorized me to grant Vernal passage through. I know you don’t like these last-minute changes to plans, mother, but consider it: if the fortress is taken, not only do I lose Calivar, but we lose two thousand fighting men. In essence, we'll have swapped his army for yours, and then the enemy will turn on us and who knows how that will turn out? But if we can reinforce Calivar and his men before the fortress is taken, when we break the King in the South's forces at the siege and have nearly four thousand fighters with which to march on Harvesthall."

The queen sipped her wine. "I'll send someone to inform Vittoro at once. I cannot imagine him objecting to this strategy of yours, though I cannot promise it. You and your wife will travel with our army, return to the palace in Estivalia as they pass by, and proceed no further. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, mother," I nodded. Then I took a big gulp of wine for a little liquid courage. "Yes, very clear. So please believe me when I say that I appreciate that you have my safety and the survival of your lineage in mind. And please understand when I say that I cannot obey. And if you try to stop me and something happens to Calivar that I might have prevented, know that I will never forgive you for that - never in my long life. I've fought in this sort of war. I know what it's like and I know I can help."

"I see. In that case, I have a difficult decision to make. I cannot in good reason, in good conscience, and out of a mother's love, let you fritter away your life like this. If you are captured, our enemy will have all the time they like to concoct a poison that will permanently kill you, and they'll be damn sure there's no adept handmaiden around to bring you back. The only way I can let you march into the enemy's maw is if I am convinced you can defend yourself beyond a few thumps and lightning strikes. Am I take it that Lady Meliswe will be accompanying you?"

"You're damn right I am," Meliswe said, "… my queen."

Alathea rose with the grace of a cat and strolled to the far end of the council table, where she uncovered an oraculary sphere. "You've seen one of these before, my sweet, but you've never used one yourself. To activate such a sphere at a distance takes pinpoint control and more than a little talent. Meliswe, I'd like to see you light this sphere… do not approach it - you must activate it from where you sit."

Meliswe furrowed her brow adorably, moved her hands and arms in a complex pattern to shape her mana, making the motions smaller and more precise as she focused it to aim at the crystal sphere. When she released the energy, her aim wasn't a bullseye, but it sparked about half-way to the edge of the sphere, quickly spreading out into a violet glow. Violet generally represented summoning and spirit-controlling magic, though I'd seen first-hand that Meliswe was proficient in numerous forms outside that oeuvre. The violet filled the room, glowing bright enough that it hurt to look at as Meliswe continued to channel her mana.

"Enough!" Alathea said. "Don't drain yourself, girl. That was very impressive - you are no longer a mage-adept, Meliswe of the Blue Fern Valley. As a High Sorceress of the Fae, I have observed your proficiency and declare you a Sister Sorceress of our order. You are well-suited to protect my daughter… but is she well-suited to lead a whole army against a fearsome foe? I've seen the power of your woodsong, Laeanna, but that is a mere fraction of the fearsome power that a fae sorceress prepared for battle must wield. If I am to send you into harm's way, you must prove your might. I will see you destroy this oraculary."

"Destroy it?"

"You did so once before, did you not? True, it was with contact and while under my control, but it was your energy that fueled it."

"With Calivar's energy, too!" I said. His magical talent was not insignificant.

"All the same, now you must do it yourself. Do this one thing and you have my leave to accompany Vittoro into Autumnal and seek your revenge against these bastards."

"Then I'll try," I said. I knew enough about fae magic by now that I didn't have to copy Meliswe's motions, even though I could do that, too. I've found that it's better to use my own magical intuition for these things rather than simply copying what others have done - what works well for one mage may not work as well for another.

I traced out the patterns with my arms and hands, letting them reflect my own internal mana, the energy that powered my magic. I flowed the energy into the fleeting patterns of magic, making faster and subtler shifts as I wound the energy into a single tapering point. By the end of the casting, only my fingertips were trembling and, with a mighty puff of breath, I shot it out and right at the sphere. Immediately, it glowed so brightly I had to look away, a hot white light barely tinged by aquamarine at the edges. Purer than my energy had ever been before and hot enough that I felt the warmth upon my face. But, despite all that energy, the sphere didn't break. I added more mana, and then more, enough of a flow that I could only maintain that pace for a minute or so. It was far more energy than I'd channeled back at my betrothal. Still, the oraculary didn't break. I wasn't going to be able to do it.

Maybe that was Alathea's plan - she'd constructed a nearly-perfect oraculary that could accept even a prodigious flow of mana. No fae could hope to break the thing and she knew that. I'd exhaust myself from the expenditure and she'd be able to lock me away with little resistance. She would keep me safe and I'd be powerless to help Calivar, and he'd get captured and then killed. All of the fae would die true death, I was willing to bet, at the hands of the accursed poison. And here I was, about to just let that happen. I think I shouted 'No!', but no sound came out. I think I broke the oraculary, but there was no cracking or shattering. All that filled my mind was purpose - I would go to Autumnal, Alathea be damned… Gaia be damned if she tried to stop me. And, suddenly, I was gasping for breath in a darkened room.

"The oraculary…" Meliswe said, fear in her voice. "Did… did it blind me?"

"No, child," Alathea said. "It will take a moment to accustom yourself to the room's dim light. The oraculary… did not break."

"So…" I said. I'd failed.

"It seems to have disappeared. Something that I've only heard tell of before in ancient legends. When saturated with pure magic, it is said they can evaporate and leave behind the purest essence of themselves." Alathea walked back to the spot where the oraculary had been sitting mere moments before. The whole surface of the table was charred for a yard around where it had been placed - I was lucky I hadn't caught the damn place on fire. She fumbled for a moment - her eyes weren't used to normal lighting yet either - before plucking a shiny black sphere from a divot in the table. "This is an essence of the highest magic - it has no color and every color, and it channels all energies, the perfect counterbalance to the pure magic you express." She then walked to the shelf right behind me and removed a small sword from an ornamental case, a sword much like the one that Meliswe's sister, Myrwaeli, had once gifted me. The queen gently placed it on the table and affixed the black gem in an open spot on the scabbard. She secured it in place with a magical flourish, melting the metal around it until the thing was set in platinum and eternite. "Go on, hold it."

I lifted it up, feeling the power of the thing - it had all the power of an ancient artifact. Apparently, Alathea was a good enough sorceress that she could fashion magical items to rival the ancients. It was immensely powerful, immediately drawing from my remaining mana, the sword seeming to change its weight and balance as I did, as if things were moving inside it.

"Um… it's very beautiful, but not likely to be much good in battle," I said. It was a bit too heavy and far too unbalanced to be used in a sword fight, though you might get somebody with a few clumsy hacks.

"The sword is not for butchery, my sweet. This is a spellsword, the first forged in two thousand years - I foresaw this possibility and had the thing made, complete but for the essential gem that only a sorceress of pure magic can create. With it, you can channel all essences and elements without any other ingredients and cast them far further than you would when armed with only your mana. This is my gift to you, Laeanna, and I require that you carry it into battle if you insist on riding with our men. But do not use it incautiously - if one of your enemies grasps the value of this treasure, you will become an even greater target. Do you accept my terms."

"Of course!" I said. I leapt to my feet and wrapped her in a hug that gave her momma bear hug a run for its money. And, yep… I was crying. Tears come with the territory of being a princess in trying times. "I…" I sniffled. "Thank you, mother. This is probably the nicest present anybody has ever given me."

"I hope you will earn it, then, by annihilating the bastards that have attacked our allies. But, if not, I only care for your safety. If you must flee, then flee. If you must leave the spellsword behind, an artifact that I have spent five decades working on, then leave it behind. Promise you'll keep yourself safe."

I rose my hand to swear. "I promise to keep myself safe, so help me Gaia. I know I'm the future of the realm."

Alathea shrugged. "We fae were forced from our world, forced to seek out new realms once before, and we'll do so again if we must. For all of us who lead, preserving the realm is a heavy burden that we must accept." She placed her hand on my shoulder. "It's a burden that you have accepted. I distrusted you at first - distrusted your motives, your competence, and your heart. I have seen you be foolish and impetuous, but never to be selfish, never in obeisance to anything but the nobility of that heart. You have been willful and disobedient, but only to help your friends and help the greater good, whether or not I agreed with your reasoning. And you are as phenomenally talented as my first Laeanna, and with an iron will to use that talent far greater than hers ever was. I do not think you'll ever be as good a princess as my first daughter was, but I suspect you'll some day make a greater queen. That's why you must stay safe - to live up to that. You cannot sacrifice yourself foolishly, even if it's to save the one you love most."

"I wouldn't be a very virtuous princess if I put myself before everybody else, and I'm not inclined to start. I'll do whatever I can to save Autumnal and bring my husband back, and if I look like I'm about to get killed, I'll off myself before the bastards can take me and see you in a few years. That's the best promise I can give you."

"Then it's the best I can expect," Alathea said. She approached me and stood on her tiptoes to kiss my forehead. "Come back to me, and I'll promise we'll share our first cup of your caw-fee."

I sniffled. "I can't wait."