My horse trampled wildflowers under her hooves to the tune of war songs and clanking armor.
Even after spending several years away in the Riverland Federation, I’d never forgotten the beauty of Archfrost’s countryside. Vast plains tinged with the golden hue of ripening grain sprawled before my eyes alongside seas of grass whistling in the wind. The occasional patches of red poppies and a grove of white-barked birch trees burst in vivid contrast to the rest of the landscape, filling it with vibrant new colors.
Such beauty, I thought, albeit somewhat sadly. I loathe to despoil it.
The loyalist army that followed in my wake was a sight to behold, a formidable force tens of thousands strong, a moving sea of gleaming armor and fluttering banners. Columns of armed infantrymen marched as fast as their legs could carry them, while commanders mounted on horseback barked orders to maintain formation. A priest would join them every so often to bless the soldiers and remind them that they would fight under the Four Artifacts’ divine protection.
As the Merchant, I had been granted the supreme honor of carrying the royal banner of Archfrost: an icy crown with seven pointed horns on a white field. It was surprisingly light for a flag on a pole. I guessed its makers had reinforced it with essence.
“Do you have similar landscapes in the east, Lady Soraseo?” Therese asked my fellow hero. Archfrost’s future queen strode at my side alongside Soraseo and her mighty warhorse, all of us under heavy escort. “I have heard many tales of the Teikoku’s beauty.”
“Tales do not do justice to the truth,” Soraseo replied with a nostalgic, wistful look. “Our mountains rise to reach the sky. Our waterfalls sing in the summer, and the wind howls through spring bamboo…”
“But do you have muddy roads?” I asked her mirthfully. My horse, Mudkeep, had more than earned her nickname since we left Snowdrift. “And dark forests full of wolves?”
“Do not forget the icy winter snow,” Therese mused playfully.
“Archfrost is… different than my home,” Soraseo said, though her tone implied she very much preferred the latter. “From my home?”
“From,” I confirmed. “You’re improving greatly. You speak Archfrostian nearly as well as a native.”
“Better than most, I would say,” Therese said with a chuckle.
“Thank you very much,” Soraseo replied, her cheeks slightly warmer than earlier. “My homeland would have rice fields near hillsides at this time of the year, and it has more valleys than plains. It has more villages, too.”
“Tell me about it,” I complained. Archfrost’s northern regions had always been sparsely populated, and the civil war and plague only worsened that trend. We had hardly encountered a few settlements on our way towards the capital, and we didn’t stop at any of them.
“You should visit the Everbright Empire one day, Robin,” Therese suggested. “You strike me as a city kind of person, and we have the largest one on the continent.”
“I enjoy nature sometimes,” I replied. “But yes, I’ll take a city bustling with activity over quiet woods anytime.”
We didn’t get to enjoy either possibility so far. Thanks to my ability to teleport supplies to our current location with a stroke of a pen, our army could afford to travel without the weakness of all mobile troops everywhere: a baggage train. We could leave heavy equipment behind, march all day, and then have it delivered to our current location in an instant without tiring out our men.
Henceforth, Roland decided on a forced march. Half a hundred leagues separated Snowdrift from Whitethrone. Three days in and we had already covered half that distance. Three more and we would find ourselves at the capital’s doorsteps.
I left most of the war planning to Roland, Soraseo, Duke Sigismund, and other capable advisors. I was no military genius, even with the purchased experience of many soldiers. My expertise lay in logistics and diplomacy, and I more than played my part on that front. I spent my nights surveying stocks, using my power to shift the soldiers’ fatigue and occasional sicknesses around, and writing letters to undecided nobles in support of Roland’s cause. I’d had success on that front, albeit for a price.
“Prince Roland is returning,” Soraseo declared while squinting at the horizon. The Volgova River flowed in the distance, its deep waters glistening in the fading sunlight. Canopies of oak and spruce loomed on the opposite riverbank. “With the others.”
She has sharp eyes, I thought. Too sharp. “Does your understanding of movement let you see farther than normal?”
“Yes,” she confirmed. “The movement in the air, the way dust blows, vibrations in the ground… They tell me many secrets.”
“Can you detect lies, for example?” Therese asked.
“Sometimes,” Soraseo confirmed. “What the tongue hides, the body often betrays.”
“And with Cortaner, we’ve got the tongue covered too,” I mused.
“Quite the deadly combination.” Therese smiled at the sky. “Tell me, who is the best liar you have met yet?”
“Eris,” Soraseo replied without hesitation.
“Eris?” I raised an eyebrow. “And here I thought I would take the spot. I’m wounded.”
“Where?” Soraseo asked, taking my meaning literally before realizing her mistake. “Oh, that was an expression?”
“It’s fine,” I replied with a smile. “But I’m curious, how is Eris a good liar?”
Soraseo thought over it before answering. “You are a book written in a foreign language, Robin,” she answered. “Sometimes I do not understand the words, but I guess the meaning. Eris is a blank book. I cannot see the ink at all. Do you have unders—do you understand, Robin?”
“I think I do.” While I might give away subtle telltale signs of lying, Eris managed to hide everything behind a pleasant smile. I had only really managed to catch her off-guard when I purchased her ability to lie in the first place. “I’ll take it as an invitation to improve.”
“Speaking of Lady Eris, we have not seen her for days,” Therese noted. “I would have expected her to reappear by now.”
“Me too,” I whispered. I was starting to grow worried. Eris hadn’t shown up since our date and the hero’s death that followed. Not only did her absence deprive us of an invaluable method of instant communication, but it spelled a dire warning of dangers to come.
I prayed to the Goddess that she was safe and sound, especially considering what I’d learned lately.
“Why this question, Therese?” I asked innocently. “Do you suspect someone is lying to you?”
“The truth seldom shows herself in my fiancé’s company.” Therese smiled at me. “I’ve heard you argued with him over our future marriage.”
“So you and Roland do speak to each other,” I said, pleasantly surprised. As per protocol, the prince and princess kept separate pavilions. While proper, since they weren’t married yet, I suspected Roland preferred to avoid his fiancée out of awkwardness.
“He has to, to keep up appearances,” Therese replied. Her velvet voice hardly hid the steel underneath. “Do you still intend to duel him for my hand if he proves unworthy of me?”
“If needs be, yes.” But only for both of their sakes. “Do you want me to duel your fiancé, Therese?”
“No, of course not.” Therese chuckled. “If you win I lose a throne, and if my fiancé wins I lose a friend.”
“I’m wounded that you put me on an equal pedestal with a chair,” I teased her back. “Especially one so uncomfortable.”
I knew Therese was an ambitious woman at heart; she had shown excellent administrative skills in Snowdrift alongside an excellent grasp of feudal politics. She was willing to put up with quite a lot to become Archfrost’s queen.
However, I hadn’t missed the distance she had shown her fiancé, nor the way she did her best to ignore his squire’s existence. She did have reservations about Roland. I wondered how long it would take them to overcome her ambition, if ever.
Or perhaps I was merely projecting. I had a particular view of romantic relationships that probably differed from Therese’s.
Soraseo, who had listened to our conversation in relative silence so far, cleared her throat. “My parents did not marry for love,” she confided in us. “They married for duty. The love came after. It will be the same with you and the Knight, Lady Therese. I am certain.”
“It is not love I am after, Lady Soraseo.” The princess’ enigmatic smile did not waver. “It is respect.”
Soraseo’s earlier prophecy soon came true. A squad of pegasi knights emerged from clouds on the horizon, escorting our airship. Our group rode away from the column to greet them as they landed on the grass. While the pegasi riders had little issue reaching the ground, Marika and Cortaner took a bit longer to find the right spot. The way our Inquisitor stood on the deck, a hand on the chains binding the balloon to the rest of the ship, reminded me of a swashbuckler coming to port.
“Has Your Majesty enjoyed his ride?” Therese courteously asked a certain rider in shining armor.
“I admit I prefer my landbound horse,” Roland replied as he removed his helmet. “But I cannot deny the view from above is mesmerizing.”
Only a handful of people in Archfrost could afford to own a tamed pegasus, let alone ride them. Thankfully, Sebastian Leclerc wasn’t among those lucky few. The prince’s aerial reconnaissance missions represented the rare few moments where he would shake off his squire and leave him behind, to my private relief.
I admit I was quite astonished by Roland’s bravery. Scouting ahead of the army was a dangerous job, even from a mile above ground. A fall could end him forever. Yet our Knight proved to be the kind of commander who liked to confirm reports with his own eyes.
“It is as we suspected,” Roland said. “Thanks to Robin’s power, our speed has taken my treacherous uncle aback.”
“The rebel troops are scrambling to join up with reinforcements coming from Walbourg in the Icewind Plains,” Cortaner confirmed. “We’ll face no resistance until we reach it.”
“Our foes do not need to offer any,” Therese observed. “The Icewind Plains are right in our path and provide an open field perfect for battle.”
“They’ll try to intercept us there and prevent us from reaching the capital,” I confirmed. “Is Baron Delganov in charge of the rebel forces in place of the Regent?”
Roland frowned at me. “How did you learn that?”
“Diplomacy and bribery,” I replied. “I wanted to confirm the information before I could trust the rest of the intel.”
“We have received similar intelligence from our scouts,” Roland confirmed. “My uncle is holding up in the capital. He is a politician, not a warrior.”
“And a poor one at that,” Therese mused. This drew a smile from her fiancé.
“We currently possess the largest force,” Soraseo said. “The enemy can only match our numbers if they have reinforcements…” She cleared her throat. “If they combine?”
“Combine,” I confirmed.
“If they combine with reinforcements,” Soraseo said with a happy nod and a seasoned veteran’s vision. “We must defeat them individually. Crush them when they are few… fewer.”
“I agree,” Roland said with a nod. “We’ll march at night.”
“At night?” I repeated.
“Our foes expect us to move to the Icewind Plains and battle them there,” Roland explained his strategy. “But Lady Marika can create bridges in minutes. If we use her ability to cross the Volgova River, we can take a shortcut, smash my uncle’s troops, and retake Whitethrone in short order.”
“We’ll find ourselves trapped between the capital and Walbourg’s reinforcements if we do that,” Cortaner pointed out.
“Hence why we must smash my uncle’s troops tonight,” Roland replied. “By marching in the dark at full speed, we’ll slam into his forces as they’re sleeping and prevent them from mobilizing. Shock and surprise will carry the day. Once the Walbourg reinforcements learn of this defeat, they will likely return home and fortify their frontier rather than continue a doomed fight.”
It was a bold plan, I had to admit, though I pointed out the obvious flaw. “Only if they don’t see us coming.”
“Yes, henceforth we must keep the plan secret from most. We will tell the commanders that we move towards the plains and change the directives at the last minute.” Roland’s hand moved to his sword’s hilt. “I shall personally lead the charge.”
I exchanged a glance with Soraseo, who raised her chin in approval. Now was the time.
“You will, and you won’t.” I pointed at a spot slightly far from the group. “Roland, can Soraseo and I speak with you in private for a moment?”
Roland frowned in confusion, but nodded wordlessly. The three of us stepped away from the others. Our fellow heroes were already into the plan, but the fewer people informed, the better.
“What is it, my friends?” Roland asked me once we were out of earshot. “If you insist on discretion, I assume it is an important matter.”
I nodded, searched under my coat, and brought out decoded letters. “I have secretly established contact with some of the Regent’s less than loyal supporters through messenger birds before we even left Snowdrift,” I said as I handed the document to Roland. “According to them, your uncle’s allies killed the Druid with new magical weapons.”
“What?” Roland flinched in shock. “Are you certain?”
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“Not entirely, but they would have no way of identifying the dead hero as the Druid without having either done the deed or at least witnessing it.” Half of Pangeal’s heroes remained under the radar or unaccounted for, after all. “Which makes me think there’s a kernel of truth to the information.”
Roland scowled as he read the letters. “What do we know of these weapons?”
“Almost nothing.” My informers couldn’t give me details. “I can’t even tell if they refer to demons or actual weapons yet. The Regent boasted about them in private to convince nobles to support his bid for the throne. He did not mention who supplied them either, but I have my suspicions.”
“The Knots,” Soraseo surmised.
“Most likely.” I took a deep breath. “The Druid’s murder was a test run for you, Roland.”
Roland scowled, though he didn’t appear surprised that his own uncle was planning to have him assassinated. “What did you have to sell to obtain this information? I doubt money alone would have convinced these turncoats to disclose something so sensitive.”
I sighed. “I’ve sold them years of life through remote contracts.”
I had accumulated a stockpile of extra time from prisoners. While I had sat on it until I could figure out how to distribute them ethically, desperate times called for desperate measures.
Roland’s scowl deepened, while Soraseo didn’t hide her distaste. “That practice sullies your soul,” she said. “I do not like it.”
“Neither do I,” I admitted. Nay, I hated it. “But I would rather see a toad live five years longer than see five hundred more soldiers join the enemy’s ranks. A possibility that I’ve avoided so far.”
“There will be time to deal with turncoats after we win this war, Robin,” Roland promised me. He shared my bitterness. “I shall forgive those who choose the right side… but I will not forget those who arrived late.”
I would welcome a purge. “Forgive me the question, Roland, but when do you think that it would be best for our enemies to assassinate you?”
“Either on the battle’s eve or in its midst,” Roland guessed. “The Knots do not want a quick and clean victory. They want slaughter and destruction.”
“Only pointless bloodshed on a terrible scale can birth a Blight,” I confirmed. “Your demise would all but ensure it.”
Killing Roland would mean the end of his cause, but assassinating him now would reduce casualties to a minimum. His supporters would still have intact troops to rally against beastmen tribes, demons, and other invaders. Murdering our Knight in the middle of an important battle, however, would demoralize our soldiers and disorganize the army—the perfect set-up for a massacre.
I doubted anyone short of a Demon Ancestor or a small army could hope to defeat Roland in battle. The Knight was the strongest combat class in the world alongside the Mage, and I had seen first-hand how it lived up to its reputation. The Druid was a strong class, but nowhere near as mighty as those two.
However, we would be fools to underestimate our foes or these tales of secret weapons. A knife to the back from a supposed friend might also prove just as effective.
“You believe the demons will target me with their new toys,” Roland said disdainfully. “Let them. I can take care of myself, Robin.”
“Your confidence does you credit, Roland, but we possess little information on what power the Knots can array against us,” I replied. “Whatever slew one of our own four nights ago might come to play in the next battle. I say we hedge our bets.”
Thankfully, Roland was wise enough to hear me out. “I’m listening.”
“Soraseo and I have devised a little plan to lure our enemies out into the open.” I turned to our beloved Monk. “Show him.”
Soraseo opened her mouth, but the voice that came out of it belonged to Roland. “Your words are mine, Lord Roland.”
“How do you do that?” Roland whispered in surprise.
“I focus,” Soraseo replied, still using the Knight’s own voice.
“What is sound other than the movement of air?” I elaborated. “Soraseo can mimic both your voice and body language through precise muscle control. Since you’re around the same height, no one will be able to tell you apart once you switch armor. I will also use my power to change the color of your eyes and other details to help sell the deception.”
“You want us to switch places in battle.” Roland crossed his arms. “I cannot send another to fight my battles.”
“What else are armies for?” I replied. “We’ll have to outwit the Knots if we are to defeat them.”
“To catch a fish, we need bait,” Soraseo added. “I will be the bait. You will be the hook.”
Roland shifted in place, clearly uncomfortable with the proposal. “Are you sure about this plan, Lady Soraseo? You’ll expose yourself to great danger.”
“It is I who proposed the idea first,” Soraseo replied with a warrior’s pride. “I can withstand the consequences. I can withstand anything.”
Roland hesitated for a moment. What did Eris say again? Ah yes. ‘The Knight is always a chivalrous bleeding heart.’ I could hardly believe that such a simple deception would make him uncomfortable.
“When would this switch take place?” he asked cautiously.
“Right before our night march,” I said. “No one else must know. Not even your squire.”
“Sebastian?” Roland squinted suspiciously at him. “Why?”
“Even if your squire and his father are loyal—” Which they weren’t. “—they might accidentally spill details that will come back to haunt us. We cannot say how far the Knots have infiltrated our troops. The fewer people in the know, the better.”
“I suppose it makes sense,” Roland said with a hint of disapproval. “But I have the feeling you are keeping a secret scheme from me.”
I am, I thought. But how could I expect you to trust me over an old friend? I dearly wanted to reveal Colmar’s intel to Roland, but he would either laugh in my face or disbelieve it outright.
Soraseo didn’t seem to share my opinion. “He should know, Robin,” she said with stoicism. “He deserves to.”
“Know what?” Roland’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration. Clearly he resented the fact I’d told Soraseo but not him. “What do you have against Sebastian?”
“Nothing yet,” I replied, playing coy. Which was true. We still needed to catch him in the act.
It was why I hadn't asked Sebastian to sell me his ability to harm Roland. If I did, the traitor would immediately realize we considered him suspicious and act cautiously, if at all. This would cost us our chance to prove his vile intentions to Roland. Sebastian's demonic master may even opt not to return his true memories so as to avoid a leak. Finally, if the Devil of Greed could shift memories around, this meant that she could conclude deals with her worshipers somehow. Sebastian could easily buy back the ability to harm Roland from someone else anyway.
In short, our best bet was to let Sebastian believe he remained undiscovered, regain his memories and trick him into exposing himself. That way we could both detain him and extract valuable information.
“I am not blind, Robin,” Roland said, his cheeks growing red from anger. “Lord Cortaner is constantly with me. He checks my food, does not allow a weapon in his presence, checks the flow of essence for any demonic influence, and glares at my squire whenever they cross paths.”
I should have known an Inquisitor with a truth-telling power would struggle with deception. Thankfully, Roland wasn’t mad enough to share his squire’s bed while campaigning either. His personal tent was large enough to accommodate a large retinue, so Sebastian and the other guards slept in a separate corner of it. This allowed Cortaner to keep watch over the prince at all times.
“I promised I would have your back, Roland,” I reminded him. “You’ll have to trust us on this.”
“If you do not extend your hand in trust, how can you expect others to return it?” Roland tensed up like an arrow ready to fire. “Who else did you inform of your secret scheme besides Lady Soraseo? And since when?”
I let out a sigh. This conversation would get difficult. “Marika and Cortaner. I informed them since we left Snowdrift.”
“In short, you shared sensitive intelligence with all the heroes except me.” Roland shook his head in disappointment. “I dislike deceit, Robin. I’ve had my fill of it at court. Heroes shouldn’t hide information from each other.”
“You won’t take it well,” I warned Roland.
“I do not care.” The prince glared at me. “Others have tried to use me all my life. If you wish to join that group, Robin, then you may no longer expect cooperation from me.”
I’m losing him, I thought. Fine. Honesty it is. “If I told you that your squire was potentially under demonic influence, would you believe me?”
“I would find that unlikely,” Roland replied with a scoff. “Laughable, even.”
“And yet, we have reason to believe he is. He might not be aware of it—” Sebastian probably believed the lie in his current state. “—but he almost certainly works for the Knots.”
“What reasons?” Roland asked tersely. “I’ve known Sebastian since my teenage years. He has been a loyal companion since the first day. He would never betray me.”
I exchanged a glance with Soraseo, who nodded sharply at me. I sighed with a heavy heart, brought out Colmar’s blood test from my pocket, and gave it to Roland. The prince frowned in confusion as he read the report, his skin bleaching with each sentence he read.
“This is… this is impossible.” As I expected, Roland rejected the truth outright. “This is madness. Complete and utter madness.”
“Maybe Colmar has made an error,” I lied to soften the blow. I’d never seen Colmar misdiagnose someone. “But we can’t set aside this information.”
“I refuse to believe this… this calumny.” Roland’s fist clenched on the scroll, his face twisting in an expression of fury. “He’s been with me for years. Years. Since we were teenagers. I would have… I would have seen.”
Soraseo sent the prince a gaze full of compassion. “Lord Roland–”
“This is a lie!” Roland snapped loudly enough for the others to look at us in the distance. His hand gripped his sword’s hilt, and the dark look I had glimpsed a few times in his eyes returned in full force. “A complete and utter lie!”
I remained calm in the face of his anger. Frankly, he was taking it better than expected. He hadn’t even drawn his sword yet. “Do you trust your squire, Roland?”
“With my life!” Roland replied without hesitation.
“Then he will understand the deception for tactical purposes,” I argued. “If nothing happens during this battle, then clearly we were wrong and I shall personally apologize to him on behalf of all heroes involved.”
Prince Roland’s jaw clenched in frustration. He didn’t answer me immediately. Instead, he studied me, judged me, and weighed every word. Our Knight didn’t believe me about Sebastian’s true nature, but the seed of doubt had been planted. Would it be enough?
“Lord Roland.” Soraseo joined her hands in a strange salute, bowing slightly. “Please. For everyone’s sake.”
Roland hesitated a moment, but he finally appeared to see reason. If only because he wanted to prove us wrong.
“Fine,” Roland said with a snort. “But you should already prepare your apology, Robin.”
I might. Part of me also hoped to be mistaken.
But the rest of me knew better.
----------------------------------------
I managed to get a few hours of sleep in my tent before Marika’s hand shook me awake. “It’s time,” she whispered. She was already dressed for battle, her armor gleaming under the light of a torch. “Roland gave the signal.”
“Yes, yes…” I groaned as I rose up from the blanket I had called a bed for the last few days. I had tried to rest a bit before the battle. “What hour is it?”
“Past midnight.” Marika let out a chuckle. “Need help putting on your armor?”
“I wouldn’t mind.”
A minute later, Marika was helping me put on leather armor. “You should take a squire of your own,” she chided me. “I can’t believe you still haven’t recruited one.”
“Who needs a squire when I have a best friend like you?” I teased her. Marika froze, my helmet still in my hands. “What?”
“Oh my Goddess,” she replied, gobsmacked. “You are my best friend.”
“I know right?” I chuckled. “You should start socializing with more people.”
Marika lightly punched me in the elbow and then strapped the helmet on my head. My new dagger and rapier glittered on my buckled belt, ready to be unsheathed at a moment’s notice. I also stored specially-charged runestones in a purse. Those might come in handy very soon.
When we finished, the two of us moved out of our shared tent and swiftly ran to our horses. The camp was abuzz with activity as soldiers hurried to get dressed for the night march, torches shining in the dark under a sky speckled with stars.
“Anxious?” I asked Marika as we approached the Volgova River. Servants had already gathered the materials I’d summoned earlier for Marika’s use: building stones, cut trees, and iron ore. Roland—or rather, a certain someone wearing his armor—and Cortaner were already there waiting for us, alongside Sebastian and a number of riders.
“I am, but not for the battle.” Marika glanced at my rapier. “Battles like this breed a dozen cursed weapons on the best of days.”
“Makes more work for you,” I said. To my surprise, Cortaner had come on foot. The armored Inquisitor practiced hand movements, his fingers cloaked in a shroud of flame. “You channel elemental essence through your gauntlets, Cortaner?”
“Seukaian martial arts do not need gloves or armor,” ‘Roland’ noted from atop ‘his’ horse. “They wield essence with their hands.”
The impersonation was so perfect that I couldn’t tell whether it was truly Roland or Soraseo. She mimicked his voice and posture perfectly, even his speech pattern. As long as she didn’t speak too much and stuck to giving orders, I doubted she would slip up.
“A feat as impressive as it is inefficient,” Cortaner snorted in contempt.
“He’s not wrong,” Marika said. “Channeling essence through one’s flesh means risking a backlash at best or a mutation at worst. If fire essence permanently bonds with your body, then it will start to combust on its own. Using tools is easier, safer, and achieves the same result.”
“Didn’t firehawks arise from birds infused with fire essence?” I mused. “They don’t turn to ashes whenever they take flight.”
“Because they survived millennia upon millennia of natural selection,” Marika replied with the utmost seriousness. “A hundred other birds burned to cinders for every viable firehawk ancestor that managed to breed and survive. Seriously Robin, don’t get ideas.”
“I’m kidding.” I already struggled to infuse my weapons with essence, let alone my body. “Let’s do this.”
Marika nodded back and swiftly started using her power to combine materials together. I watched her build in a minute a large bridge that would have taken years and hundreds of workers otherwise. I strode side by side with the disguised Soraseo and Sebastian on horseback alongside hundreds of cavalrymen. Cortaner followed on foot. He did not need a mount to match our speed, nor did he tire.
While Marika would lead the siege engineers, I would join the vanguard’s right wing with the disguised Soraseo, Cortaner, and the cavalry. I would have done better in the reserve, where the real Roland waited in Soraseo’s armor, but our plan demanded that I play the bait. The Knots might hesitate to fully commit if we were spread out across the battlefield. The possibility of taking out two great classes at once would prove too sweet an opportunity to let pass.
My hands tensed on Mudkeep’s reins. I had fought skirmishes in the past, but never a battle as part of such a large army. The right wing alone included over four thousand mounted knights massed like a tide of steel, their horses’ hooves trampling the grass to the tune of a thunderous chorus. I raised the royal banner and let it unfurl in the night wind. Other heraldic flags representing half a dozen noble houses flew behind me. We advanced past dark trees and towards the plains beyond them, where our foes’ camp awaited.
So far so good, I thought. A pale mist had risen, albeit faint enough to let us see through it. Three ditches full of sharpened stakes had been erected a few short leagues away, beyond which the enemy camp spread out in a sea of tents and pavilions as large as houses. Smoke rose from the light of a hundred night fires. No horn sounded to raise the alarm yet, so our scouts had done their job silencing the enemy’s. But there’s foulness in the air.
I smelled it in the wind and saw it with my magical sight. A cloud of corrupt miasma rising from the enemy camp. A flow of corrupted essence. Too weak for a Blight, too strong for just a demon.
“What are your orders, Your Majesty?” Sebastian asked the disguised Soraseo. If he had seen through our ruse, he gave no hint of it. “It is only a matter of time before the sentries notice us.”
Soraseo examined the camp’s defenses, which compromised a quick advance. “Have shielded infantry dismantle the spikes with ropes and hooks,” she ordered with Roland’s voice. Thankfully, military orders required concision rather than flowery speeches. “Bring sacks of hay and soil to fill the gaps between them. Bring planks too. We must open a breach.”
Messengers immediately worked to relay the order, with Cortaner himself taking the first step toward the fortifications. He silently jumped into the ditch, his metal boots sending mud flying, and punched the spikes in half with his armored hands. The wood bent to his steel and strength. Marika and other engineers followed after him, my friend using her power to quickly build bridges over the fortifications.
We were halfway through the ditches when a war horn erupted from the enemy camp. The sentries had noticed us.
“Archers must take position!” Soraseo ordered while Marika and the others quickened. From the way our Monk spoke, she had already commanded similar operations in the past. “Pegasus riders, set the command tents ablaze!”
Our fliers took flight above the camp with bags of oil and flammable material. War horns echoed again in the distance, deep and terrible; our trumpets answered them, sounding the start of our own attack. The time for sneakiness had passed.
While our cavalry waited for a breach to open up to strike, my eyes turned to Sebastian. The squire waited behind his master, his hand slowly moving to his weapon’s hilt. I discreetly did the same.
The squire suddenly looked at me, his pale gray eyes shining in the dark like twin stars. “If I may ask, Lord Robin,” he said, vaguely amused. “When did you start to suspect me?”
“Of having an affair?” I asked.
“Of leading the Knot of Greed.”
Our swords flew out of their sheaths and clashed in a flash of steel.
Sebastian went straight for my throat. I barely parried in the nick of time, my essence-strengthened rapier struggling to hold back his inhuman strength. The blow threw me off Mudkeep’s back and sent me crashing into the grass.
“You have outwitted me, Lord Robin,” Sebastian said as our escort drew their weapons, though none more swiftly than Soraseo. “But I still have a few cards to play.”
To my surprise, Sebastian jumped off his horse and dived to the ground. Soraseo’s head snapped towards the enemy camp, her power detecting a detail the others had missed.
“Duck!” Soraseo ordered while jumping off her horse. “Disperse!”
A few heard in time to obey. Others could only freeze in shock as death claimed them.
I heard the projectile coming soaring through the air before it actually hit. A metal spear too long and big for a man to carry cut through our battle line with the strength of a ballista. It skewered three men and their horses, punching through steel and flesh alike.
By the time I rose back up, chaos had spread through our ranks. Sebastian Leclerc stood strong, with Soraseo and other men-at-arms surrounding him. But he was hardly the most concerning foe. My gaze briefly wandered to the enemy camp, where two great figures rose from behind the fortifications. Twin stone and steel automatons uprooted themselves from the ground, each towering over tents from their fifteen foot tall height. It looked as if two keeps had gone for a walk, their heavy footsteps shaking the ground with bone-jarring force. Darkness seeped from behind their iron helmets, while corrupt essence wreathed their weapons: a greatsword strong enough to cleave a tower in half in the right hand, and a mounted ballista on the left.
What are those?! I wondered, but not for long.
“Golems!” I heard Marika shout from the trenches. “Golems!”
“Your husband sends his regards, Lady Marika,” Sebastian Leclerc gloated, his free hand revealing a small sphere of ceramic. He threw it to the ground and sick yellow gas erupted from the shattered projectile.
The wind spread Florence’s cursed pestilence through our ranks.