Chapter 97

Imperium in Imperio

Arvena Province

The land south of the Great River ripened, appearing as if a blanket of gold had been spread over the countryside. The fall of 4425 had arrived, and it should have been the merriest time of the year. However, for the Arvenians under Lord Gottfried's control, there was only preparation for war.

Men from Bellandia were among the thousands of Arvenians recruited for the upcoming campaign. They were encamped near the Arvena-Tiberia border, and tensions were running high. While the Arvenians were reluctant participants in this conflict, they felt pressured to demonstrate their loyalty.

Worse yet, rumors circulated that the Emperor was dying. These whispers were embellished with claims of Lord Gottfried attempting to rescue the dying Emperor from the clutches of evil ministers. However, the Arvenians weren't buying it.

Although they were shocked by the news that the Ageless was dying, the memory of how Gottfried had killed the previous Lord of Arvena and his family remained fresh in their minds. There seemed to be no good reason for Lord Gottfried's actions, other than to seize Arvena for himself. Thus, the Arvenians generally viewed their new overlord with distrust.

Hans, a young lad in a gambeson, entered the tent in a hurry. "Marc, did you hear? Another marching order has been issued."

"So soon?" Marc groaned. They had just made themselves comfortable.

"It's possible that they're not going to wait for the harvest," Darren, the butcher's son, commented.

Hans and Marc sighed as the three of them began to pack their belongings. Marc and Darren hailed from Bellandia, while Hans was from a neighboring village. The three were levied troops, lightly armed with spears, helmets, and thick clothes serving as gambesons.

A muscular man with a graying mustache peeked from outside and asked, "You lads heard of the marching order?"

"Connor," Marc exclaimed excitedly. "Indeed, we just heard it. What's the news on your side?"

"I'm on an errand," he explained, offering a lump of waxed parchment to Darren, his son.

The trio was ecstatic. Darren quickly went outside to their fireplace to cook the red meat while they still had the chance. Hans followed and nudged Darren playfully. "It's a good thing your dad's a well-known butcher, eh?"

Darren could only respond with a proud grin.

Connor entered the tent before replying to Marc, "Yeah, the news isn't good. They're moving us away from the villages and marches. I guess they're not going to use us to help with the harvest."

"You think they are going to send us into war?" Marc asked.

Connor's response was only to exhale sharply. He took his wineskin and offered, "Wine?"

"Don’t mind if I do." Marc gratefully took a sip of the spiced wine. The paleness in his cheeks from sleeping rough turned into a healthy red.

The two talked briefly about the situation and what news Connor had about Bellandia.

"It's a good thing that your mother and sister aren’t in the village anymore. Life is hard with all the food and grain quotas."

Marc sighed, knowing that, as vegetable farmers, they had limited means to fulfill such quotas.

Darren and Hans returned with sizzling meat on a skillet.

"Eat well," Connor said with a grin.

The three used their knives and devoured the steak.

Marc noticed Connor looking at Darren with worry. "Don’t you worry. When the time comes, we will protect Darren, I swear it—on this piece of good meat." The sudden declaration prompted laughter from the others.

Connor chuckled. "I love it when the bribe works."

"But really, you should ask them to put Darren as a clerk. He can calculate. That way, he'll be working with the command staff, much safer than here."

Darren groaned. "Stop it, Marc. I'm not as good as my teacher. I calculate slower than a snail moving."

Connor sighed bitterly. "If only he were here to mentor. Perhaps we could save more youngsters from becoming footmen."

"Well, not even Lansius can save me. I am far too stupid to be taught," Marc joked. "It is always spear and shield for me."

Before they could continue their banter, the sound of horns echoed in the distance.

"That's the call to assemble. Better hurry," Connor said to Marc and then to Darren, "Take care. I'll visit when I'm on another errand."

The trio quickly tidied up after their meal, grabbed their gear, and headed to the designated assembly field. The sun shone brightly as thousands of Arvenians formed up next to their northern army counterparts.

***

Chateau de Cascasonne

Seneschal Bengrieve's preparations were complete. He and his private army would march west to maintain order along the Elandia-Midlandia border. Southern Elandia was in turmoil after the famine-stricken people from neighboring Nicopola province raided the land in search of grains or livestock.

However, instead of focusing on static defense along his province's border, Lord Bengrieve and his staff had a different plan in mind. Recognizing the challenge of maintaining a watch at the border, they aimed to seize a strategic castle in Elandia, intending to keep all fighting confined in Elandian soil.

Externally, this strategy was to prevent the conflict from spilling over to Midlandia, but in reality, they planned to claim the land and castle for themselves. Like other lords, Lord Bengrieve had no intention of aiding the Imperium without personal gain. Moreover, he doubted that the high court would dare antagonize him and Midlandia, given their dire need for support against Gottfried.

The situation was ripe for the taking. However, Bengrieve was cautious not to overreach. With the affluent Saint Candidate Nay swaying the masses and the Lord of Midlandia's position vacant, the region faced potential jeopardy.

The region's stability was far from set in stone; it was akin to sitting on a three-legged chair, each leg of a different height, creating an imbalance that could easily topple. Bengrieve understood this precarious situation perfectly.

Thus, he wielded his army like a double-edged sword, each side pointed at his enemy from both within and without.

"Please excuse me, My Lord," the steward interrupted, finding Lord Bengrieve sitting in his lavish garden outside the chateau, enjoying the sunset.

"What's the urgency?" Lord Bengrieve inquired, motioning his squires to give them privacy.

"Lord Gottfried has made his move against Tiberia."

"Before the harvest? Are you certain?" the Lord asked calmly.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"I've confirmed it from two different sources."

"What about our border with Arvena?"

"Our scouts have infiltrated Arvena but found no military buildup on our border."

Bengrieve mused, "It seems that Gottfried has respected his promise."

The steward raised an eyebrow. "What is your plan then, My Lord?"

"If nothing is amiss, then we'll depart for Elandia in three days," Bengrieve declared.

The steward bowed his head. "Understood. But, how about young Lord Arte's wishes?"

"Let him be," Bengrieve answered without hesitation. "Gottfried never asked or mentioned him. And Midlandia hasn't formally endorsed the young lord of Arvena."

"Not to overstep my position, but is it wise, My Lord? When he finds out that we backed an insurgence, Gottfried might use this as a pretext for hostility."

Bengrieve smiled. "I keep a dagger at Gottfried's back, just as he keeps one behind mine. The only difference is the size and sharpness."

"It doesn't seem like he has one behind you," the steward ventured.

"Then he'll fall, and I'll be the one to uproot his evil intentions from the Imperium's soil." Bengrieve chuckled at his rhetoric. "I doubt Gottfried is that incompetent."

"Your position is solid, My Lord, save only for the ongoing succession crisis. Perhaps if you—"

"Don't worry. I have a better candidate than myself for that role," Bengrieve interjected, knowing that his staff wanted him to take the position as the Lord of Midlandia.

The old steward bowed his head respectfully.

"Ah, my guest has arrived," Bengrieve observed, watching a squire escort a woman.

"Then, I'll excuse myself."

"I don't mind if you stay. It's only Hannei."

"Understood." The steward then moved to a more appropriate place, close enough to be within earshot, yet far enough to maintain discretion, ready to offer advice as needed.

"Lady Hannei, please take a seat," Bengrieve offered from his seat.

"Gratitude, My Lord," Hannei responded, taking her place on the wooden bench opposite her master.

"I apologize for keeping you in this chateau for so long, but the situation is rapidly evolving."

Hannei bowed her head, signaling her acceptance. She understood this wasn't a genuine apology but rather a formal way to initiate a discussion.

"You said you're here on an errand?"

"Yes, My Lord. My charge, Lady Felicity, has arrived safely in Korelia and wishes to stay there. I'm here on behalf of the Lord of Korelia to bring his squire to a healer and to deliver his letter."

Bengrieve nodded; he had already received and read the letter. "And what are your plans after this?"

"Should my lord release me from my charge, I wish to retire to my hometown," she articulated, echoing the words she had practiced.

"Very well, I release you from your charge. Your contract is fulfilled and I'll reward you accordingly."

Hannei bowed deeply in response. However, instead of dismissing her, Bengrieve handed her a missive, and Hannei rose respectfully to accept it.

"It's the latest report from Lowlandia," he explained.

She read the missive, expecting something major, but found nothing noteworthy. Puzzled, she read it again.

"Well?" Bengrieve inquired.

"Pardon, My Lord, but I couldn't find anything—"

Bengrieve sighed. "Those two are married."

Hannei furrowed her brows. "Lansius and Audrey? Indeed, they are, My Lord."

"Why didn't you mention this in your reports?" the Lord asked with frustration.

"B-but, My Lord, this humble servant already did mention it. My report stated that the two are enamored," Hannei explained, nervously.

"Enamored...?" Bengrieve shook his head, falling into deep contemplation. "Yes, you did write something to that effect... It's just that I never expected..."

Hannei squinted her eyes. She had never seen Bengrieve at a loss for words and became suspicious of Audrey's true identity.

"Lansius should marry Lord Robert's daughter, not Lady Audrey. I have plans for her," the Lord lamented, fury evident in his tone.

It was only then that Hannei understood the issue. If Lansius were here, she was sure he would tell her: 'In this day and age, nobles marry not out of love, but out of necessity and alliance between Houses.' She vaguely recalled one of his stories about young Romans who often married wealthy widows for support. He had mentioned someone named Octavian or Augustus, who married a woman already pregnant by her first husband. This marriage, was a strategic move for wealth, political connections, and legitimacy.

Bengrieve asked for and drank some spiced wine, seemingly attempting to quench his overwhelming emotions. However, his disdain was unmistakable. "Why do even smart men like Lansius behave illogically? This is absurd!" he exclaimed, raising his voice.

Hannei flinched and lowered her gaze, aware of how powerful and terrible Bengrieve could be.

The Steward stepped forward. "A word, My Lord, if you wish to hear it."

Bengrieve gestured for him to speak.

"My Lord should remember the letter from the current Lord of Korelia brought by Lady Hannei."

"What about it?"

"The letter is full of praises and hopes for My Lord's support. I doubt the person who wrote it has any seditious plans behind your back."

Bengrieve grumbled. "Perhaps he's even darker than Gottfried."

"I doubt it, My Lord. It's more likely that the current Lord of Korelia simply doesn't know."

Bengrieve took a deep breath and nodded. "Perhaps this is but a coincidence..."

The steward nodded. Meanwhile, Hannei, visibly anxious, was eager to ask but knew it wasn't her place.

Bengrieve leaned back in his chair and turned his gaze back to Hannei. "Is Lansius loyal?"

"Lansius is Lansius. He has fooled other lords in battle and defeated them. I doubt I could fathom him. However, from my observation, there's no indication that he's disloyal to you, My Lord," Hannei answered spontaneously.

Bengrieve seemed pleased. "And why is that?"

"The Lord of Korelia needs an ally, and you are the most able and understanding benefactor anyone could wish for."

Bengrieve smiled at the praise, but replied, "I wonder if your sweet words will change under the nectar of truth."

Hannei gulped and could only look down.

Bengrieve stood up. "I'll march west in three days. I shouldn't worry about some Lord from Lowlandia. However, let it be known that he has taken a prize greater than he's worth."

***

Korimor

In a move that shocked everyone, Lord Lansius announced his order to mobilize. He explained to his staff that they couldn't afford to wait for the harvest due to the deteriorating situation with the Nicopolan refugees; there was simply no solution to be found in Korimor.

Upon hearing the announcement, the castle and the city immediately buzzed with activity to prepare for the upcoming march.

The recently knighted Sir Hugo was appointed steward of Korimor. To maintain order, Lord Lansius stationed two hundred of Servius' Nicopolan regiment to ensure Korimor's loyalty to his House. While public sentiment was generally favorable, he did not want to risk the city succumbing to rebellious tendencies.

Sir Hugo's new position came with a personal cost. This appointment meant he had to postpone his marriage until next year. However, the prestige accompanying the role, coupled with the absence of a more suitable candidate, made the decision easier for him.

While waiting for the army's two-day preparation for mobilization, the Lord and Lady organized a special banquet to send off Sir Michael and his White Lake cavalry. The cavalry, having completed their mission and recovered from the battle, were set to return home the following day.

Despite the food situation not yet improving, with the harvest still a week away, the castle staff successfully managed to prepare a modest yet lively banquet. The Great Hall of Korimor was filled with feasting, music, and laughter.

"Sir Michael, please extend my gratitude to the Lord of White Lake," Lansius said to the honored guest seated next to him.

"Certainly, My Lord. On behalf of Lord Robert, please accept our gratitude for the share of the baggage train and the spoils from the city."

"It's within your rights. You earned it," Lansius replied with a smile. Audrey then asked, "Sir Michael, are you sure you don’t want to wait until the harvest festival?"

"I'd love to, My Lady, but the men are restless to return home. Please excuse their manners."

The Lord and Lady chuckled and raised their cups, followed by Sir Michael and the others. They drank and enjoyed the music and lively atmosphere.

"A letter if you will, for the Lord of White Lake," Lansius said as the festivities began to wind down.

Sir Michael respectfully took the sealed letter. "I'll ensure My Lord receives it."

"Sir Michael, know that the doors of my House are always open to you," Lansius said.

Sir Michael bowed. "It's an honor, My Lord."

Suddenly, noises from outside interrupted the banquet. Dietrich and Carla escorted in three men, who turned out to be Batu and his two relatives. Sigmund, the skald, sensed that something was off, and the music stopped. However, despite the urgency of their actions, Batu showed no sign of hostility, only a proud and joyful expression.

"My Noyan," he called out as he approached.

The Lord and Lady descended from their high table. "Batu, what brings you here?" Lansius asked.

"A messenger from my tribe just came. They said, my first wife delivered a healthy baby boy!"

The room erupted in congratulations for Batu, the new father. Cheers were raised to salute the fortune of their honored ally.

"What wonderful news," Lady Audrey said, pouring spiced wine into a silver goblet.

"Brother, congratulations on your son," Lansius said, offering the goblet to Batu.

"My Noyan, My Lady, this is a great honor," Batu replied, overwhelmed by everyone's well-wishes.

Audrey offered her congratulations, "May the boy and mother stay healthy." Caught up in the moment, Batu raised his goblet and took a hearty gulp, his action met with cheers from the crowd.

"I hope for the Noyan's blessing," Batu declared, addressing the room. "I plan to name him Lancius."

Upon hearing this, Lansius let out a chuckle, and the crowd erupted in cheers, proud of the name Batu had chosen. "May he rule the plains as an honorable warrior!" someone called out, eliciting nods and smiles from the others.

"I feel unworthy," Lansius admitted, but the Lady pulled his arm and whispered, "It's a good name. You should feel honored."

"I do," Lansius reassured her with a smile.

"Noyan, may the boy inherit some of your battle skills," Batu insisted.

Lansius exhaled, and the crowd fell silent. "May Lancius, son of Batu, only know peace and never need to use his skills in warfare."

Hearing this, the crowd and Batu rejoiced. Sir Hugo, Sir Michael, Dietrich, Sigmund, and Carla all took turns to congratulate the new father. Sterling, who had resumed his position at Lord Lansius' side, returned from the castle's cellar with extra spiced wine and ale to refill everyone's cups and goblets. It was truly a day to celebrate.

The Lord and Lady, along with their staff and allies, were savoring their brief respite, uncertain of when they would meet again. Soon, they would embark on their campaign to the west, not knowing what fate awaited them there.

***