"But I sound nothing like Duchess Ravenna!" Gandr argued as he realized the plan. Not only his ears, but his cheeks were burning, and no amount of shape-shifting would hide it. He thought about turning invisible and running off until they thought of a better plan, but did not want to appear afraid.

Devrim pulled his chin. "Just tell them you have a cold and make your voice scratchy. I have heard you try to imitate voices before. You can sound like a sick old lady easy enough."

"You were right. I hate this plan." Gandr responded dejectedly.

"It will be fine. Junayd and I will be right there with you." The Emperor patted him on the back to comfort him. It was a big ask, but if it worked, lives on both sides would be saved.

"Can't you just announce you are the Emperor and tell them to disband?" Gandr was grasping at any possibility that did not end with him as a woman.

Devrim considered his suggestion momentarily but gave a negative gesture. "Even if they believe me, if they plan on turning against the Empress, I highly doubt that they will just accept my word and move on. More likely, they will try to kill me in order to get in good with their boss."

"Fair enough..." Although Gandr did not think it was fair at all, he was becoming resigned to his fate.

There was movement in the long grass around them, and Junayd appeared with two grey and green uniforms. "I hope these fit. I borrowed them from the packs of two sleeping soldiers. I thought this group had a patrol, but they are doing a lousy job of it. No one even bothered to look my way."

"We will take any boon we can get. Is anyone coming from the south?" Devrim asked Gandr. "I would hate for there to be two Duchesses."

Gandr closed his eyes and focused before shaking his head. "No one is close, but my range is not that far. I will check again right beforehand."

"Good. Come on, Junayd. Let us get dressed." Devrim commanded, then paused. "If that is acceptable to Your Grace." The grey-eyed man bowed his head deeply to the gnome with a smug grin.

"If you were not my boss, I would probably punch you right in the kisser," Gandr crossed his arms angrily. "Get changed before I change my mind."

—————-

The soldiers keeping guard called everyone to attention. "The Duchess is coming!" one of them yelled. The troops all scrambled to fix their appearance. Her Grace did not take kindly to sloppy uniforms. She had been known to dismiss others from her service for even the slightest error. Those under her were always worried that they would be next on the chopping block, but working for her was a very high honor, and they would do anything to maintain their status.

They watched as a trio of horses made their way through the tall grass and into the clearing. All stood saluting, waiting for instruction. Duchess Ravenna dismounted. She was tall with a gaunt face and harsh eyes. Some had likened her to a vulture, of course never to her face. The Duchess was wearing a flamboyant bright green gown that accentuated her blue hair. Ravenna prided herself on exotic colors, and this combination made her stand out.

The two men with Ravenna also alighted. They stood stock straight as the duchess eyed her men and snorted at them. "Well! This is a sorry lot I have come upon," she said in a gravelly voice.

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The sergeant of the men present came forward and bowed. "Your Grace, are you alright?" He had noticed the change in her tone.

One of the two soldiers—the one with the grey eyes—hurried over to the man and whispered in his ear, "The Duchess has a terrible cold. She has just regained the use of her voice. I do not recommend troubling her too much."

Ravenna's sergeant furrowed his brow, "And you are?" He knew the soldiers who went with his mistress, and this man was not among them. Also, where were the Duchess's ladies-in-waiting? The woman never went anywhere without them.

The grey-eyed soldier looked indignantly at the sergeant. "I am escorting Her Grace today. He sent me…"

At the mention of 'he' the sergeant's eyes went wide. He backed off quickly. "Forgive us, Your Grace. I did not know that you had been unwell."

The Duchess pulled her lips tight in a tolerant smile. "Not as unwell as the Empress. We will not need to overthrow her. She will die any time now." There was a flurry of whispers among those present.

"What should we do?" the sergeant asked.

Ravenna narrowed her gaze at the soldier, sending a shiver down his back. "Do I need to spell it out for you? Pack up! We are going home to wait until Prince Alvar takes power. He did all the hard work for us." The Duchess gave a wicked smile. The troops cheered. They did not want to have to battle, and they immediately started packing their things to leave. 'Too easy,' Devrim thought. His gaze was fixed on the sergeant, who was the only still member in the group. His eyes were searching the grasses behind them.

"Ma'am, where is your entourage?" he asked at last. He swallowed hard when she glared at him.

"They are a ways back. The ladies were complaining relentlessly that they needed a rest, so I left them behind. They will be along eventually, but you will not wait for them." Ravenna fluffed her blue hair. The wild wisps looked like cotton in the breeze.

"If I may, did Jenna come back with you, or did she stay in the capital?"

Devrim recognized the trap, but was too late on his signal before Gandr answered. "She is back with the others," Ravenna disinterestedly told him.

The sergeant's face hardened. "Jenna did not come on this trip at all, Your Grace."

"Oh, you said Jenna. I misheard." Ravenna backtracked quickly.

"And what about Charity? Will I be seeing her soon?" The sergeant's question sounded innocent, but even Junayd, who was on the opposite side of the shape-shifter, was trying to covertly tell him to be quiet.

The faux Duchess shook her head. "Another trick!" She announced angrily.

Unexpectedly, the sergeant matched her anger, "Charity is the Duchess's foremost servant and my wife! I would never joke about her. Who are you?" He drew his sword and the others in camp looked on with wonder and fear.

Both Junayd and Devrim put their palms on their faces. Things had been going so well. "Time for plan B," Gandr muttered. Plan B? Devrim was unaware of another plan. He braced his hand against the pommel of his sword.

Gandr addressed the sergeant. His voice was deep and forbidding, "I tried to do this the easy way, sergeant. These two wanted to eat your souls without a second thought." He motioned to Junayd and Devrim. They looked at the others and bared their teeth. Gandr continued, speaking slowly. "I said no, I will get them to leave peacefully. But then you disrespected me…"

The halfling paused. The silence was more upsetting by the moment, and the soldiers had already backed up unconsciously. There was something very unnatural going on. "Your Duchess has already paid the price. Now it is your turn." Ravenna's image melted from the figure before them as his eyes lit with a flame. Then the body also turned to fire as Gandr let loose a loud roar.

"Monster!"

"Demon!"

"Run!"

The ground began to shake as a sudden fierce wind whipped around them. Devrim and Junayd struggled to keep their ground and remain stern. The other men ran in fear, some getting their belongings and horses, but most just running for dear life. When the dust finally settled, the trio of heroes were the only ones left standing. Gandr transformed back to his natural form and dropped to the ground on one knee.

"Rest well, Gandr. Junayd and I will gather up their things to burn them. Also, scatter the horses that are left behind. Even if they return, they will be unable to attack anything any time soon." The men went to work while Gandr regained his strength. It took them a while, but they demolished the camp and cleared the area.

When they returned to the halfling, Junayd already had a question on his face. "How did you come up with 'Plan B'?"

"Brinn and I have a code. Plan A is whatever we want to do first. Plan C is to turn invisible, do what needs to be done and leave. Plan D is to pretend to pass out and then knock out their lights when they check if we are breathing. Plan E…well I cannot disclose that sensitive information." Gandr sealed his lips and grinned.

Devrim pulled at his chin. "Then what exactly is Plan B?"

"Plan B is to change into a hideous fiery beast and scare the snot out of our enemy. Brinn uses it most often on men who try to ask her to have a drink with them." Gandr chuckled.

"Aren't you afraid the Fates will come?" Junayd asked looking around as the thought came to him.

Gandr shrugged. "Hasn't happened yet, and just now, I think them whisking us to the land of magic would actually be a favor, don't you?"

Devrim also laughed. "How did Brinn ever come up with such a crazy idea?" he mused.

"I believe it was Her Majesty's idea, actually." The halfling offered.

"Of course it was," the Emperor agreed. He imagined how that conversation went down. Likely Brinn was scowling at her and Aurora said she looked like a monster. Then Brinn became a monster, which only would have made the Empress laugh harder. Then the dark-haired woman would have told her elf friend to try it on some unsuspecting man and not her. The result was a victory today. "My wife never ceases to amaze," he whispered. And he got on his horse wishing very much that he could tell her just how clever he thought she was.