King Nicholas of Cernlia was, in Kiara’s considered opinion, an utter bastard.
Who else would use hungry refugees fleeing from the depredations of war as a weapon?
To be fair, she had to admit that the whole thing had a certain ironic cleverness. It was clever in several respects, actually, considering it both tied down some of Marquis Lyns’ fighting force, depleted his supplies, and attacked his men’s morale and the cohesion of his rebellion. Not to mention how it risked spreading disease among the rebels’ army, or the advantage it must give to the king’s side not to have to worry about all those other concerns.
Still, at the moment she was rather more concerned with the sharp edge falling towards her than the intricacies of the war’s politics or strategies.
Still quietly cursing the king’s name, Kiara Lyns ducked low and dashed to the side, letting the wyvern’s claws brush over her. At the same time, she turned her sword and thrust up, timing it just right to catch the soft, vulnerable expanse of its wings.
The monster screeched and turned, its tail lashing and its head rearing up. Fortunately, Kiara had made sure to turn it so its attention stayed away from the group of peasant refugees frantically hurrying towards her father’s current military camp. They’d join the growing city of tents and squalor around it, in all likelihood, but that was a problem for later.
The wyvern was clearly young and inexperienced, if its relatively low level - only just above thirty, not even in the third Tier - hadn’t already made that obvious. Its display gave Kiara enough time to prepare a Spell, and it barely started to come down for another attack when her Firebolt caught it right in the snout.
The wyvern screeched again, and Kiara didn’t waste the opportunity. She lunged forward, following her magical attack with her sword. Her most recent Spell of Haste was still active, if only barely, but it sufficed for her to score another point and open a deep gash in its snout.
Kiara backstepped before it could bring its formidable teeth to bear. But before she had the chance to continue the assault, a war ax crashed down on the monster’s shoulder, shattering its scales and actually forcing the wyvern down. Then Sir Richard followed up with an even more powerful strike at the monster’s head, caving it in and ending the fight.
Kiara took another step back, raising an arm to wipe the sweat from her forehead and out of her eyes. “Well, that was exciting,” she commented drily.
“Please don’t put yourself in danger flippantly, Milady,” the old knight remonstrated her gently. “Much as it pains me to say, your life is more important than the damage even a monster like this could do.”
“I know, but I’m safe, aren’t I?” Kiara didn’t turn to face him, but instead looked for the group of refugees. “You were there, weren’t you?”
While they’d finished the fight and the short exchange, the peasants had kept running, she discovered. They were already a considerable distance past them and getting further away. She sighed softly, then wiped her sword carefully before sheathing it.
“Besides, I had to do this,” she continued more soberly. “Someone did. And I could hardly stay cooped up in my tent forever.” She gave him a pointed look. “You know how important it is that I acquit myself as well as any young lord or knight could, if not more so.”
He nodded silently with a small grimace. Kiara knew it wasn’t directed at the idea of a woman like her proving her knightly virtue, of course, but rather the necessity of it. Sir Richard was loyal, not particularly parochial, and deceptively good at following the threads of courtly power games. Granted, she suspected that was more of a survival mechanism than anything he would have liked to learn.
Kiara returned to her horse, which had thankfully not wandered off too far after she’d left it rather speedily to intercept the wyvern, and eased herself into the saddle. Fighting a monster like a wyvern on horseback would have been a risky proposition, but she appreciated not having to walk back to the camp on her own feet.
The trip back didn’t take very long, and Kiara had to stop herself from dismounting and trying to do something for the people she passed at the camp’s edges on several occasions. She knew that giving money or food to a few of them was not going to do anything to solve the real issues. She did make a mental note to detail some more men to make sure order was kept in the growing crowd of ‘camp followers’, though. Conditions like these seemed likely to be a hotbed for crime and exploitation. Sometimes it feels like I’m the only one in my father’s councils who actually cares about this. Kiara shook her head at the thought. She was most likely doing at least a few people a disservice.
Once they reached the camp proper, Kiara was met by several lords waiting for her. While a servant came forward to take her horse, she approached them to receive their greetings.
“Welcome back, Milady,” Baron Theraln said with a bow. “I hope your excursion was fruitful.”
“We managed to drive off several of the king’s little distractions and slay a wyvern,” she replied with a nod. “The eastern field should be safer now, at least.”
“As expected, that should be quite useful, as well as gallant.” He straightened and she recognized the sign that he was coming to the real issue. “Your lord father has called another council for this evening.”
Kiara paused and cocked her head. Theraln was one of Duke Bluegrass’ confidants, and he’d carried messages for (and to) the duke on more than one occasion. He’d proved himself to be useful on other tasks, as well. “Any particular reason?” she asked now.
“From preliminary scouting reports, it seems the Nerlians are moving closer, most likely heading to ford the river at Waiveton, Milady,” he reported. “Rumor has it the marquis is planning to move on, finally.”
Kiara narrowed her eyes. They’d already sat here for too long, really. But retreating would be costly, especially with the Nerlians potentially able to cut them off while the king swept into their rear. Unfortunately, the present balance of strength was too unfavorable to them for advancing to be wise. It had been a hotly debated topic at the last few council meetings, already, and she was unsure which route her father would pick. Probably the southeast, she decided after a moment. That would hopefully take them further away from the Nerlians, into ground open enough that their movements wouldn’t be too hindered, and it would open the possibility of retreating further west if they needed to later. After all, the Nerlians would lose at least a little time having to ford the river, and the way the Dannan curved meant the king wouldn’t have a straight shot at them, either. They’d lose their current base, but under the circumstances, seeking battle would just be asking for a loss, so they’d have to do what they had to do.
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“Well, I suppose I’ll see,” she said calmly. “Thank you, Lord Caleb. I’ll need to go and freshen up, if you’ll excuse me, but I look forward to seeing you at dinner. You as well, Lord Elric, Lord Paul.” She nodded at the others.
They parted with bows and muttered greetings, and Sir Willard escorted Kiara to her tent.
At least she would certainly be included in her father’s council, she reflected. Over the last few weeks - months, really - there had been a quiet shift in the rebellion’s internal politics. One with her at the center. She still hesitated to call it a faction, since they were still both ostensibly and actually committed members of her father’s ‘faction’. But she had been growing a base of influence and support. Duke Bluegrass remained her primary and most important supporter, but he was hardly the only one. In fact, she’d taken pains to ensure that she wouldn’t be entirely dependent on him.
Her father had to know about it — although, hopefully, not the actual extent of it — but she was not entirely sure how he felt about that. He’d never said a thing to her about it, and to be fair, neither had Kiara.
She rather suspected that some of the noblemen thought she might have better chances of coming to terms with the king than Marquis Lyns himself did. That was short-sighted of them, in her opinion, but Kiara hadn’t gone out of her way to make that opinion known. She wasn’t exactly happy about the way recent events seemed to have increased her popularity, though. To be fair, it might be rather that they thought the king was going to get the marquis’ head, one way or another, but not necessarily hers. And the way she had known about the Nerlians’ movements ahead of everyone else must have played its part, as well. She hadn’t made that fact public, but anyone with some political acumen would have learned of it by now. And the fact that she had brought her father and his lords the information hadn’t exactly hurt her position.
Kiara entered her tent and froze for a moment. Then she stepped further inside and accepted the warm embrace coming her way.
“There you are, Kiara!” Her mother held her by the shoulders and looked her over. “It looks like you didn’t get hurt, at least. Did you really have to go gallivanting off to fight the closest target that presented itself?”
Kiara resisted the urge to sigh. Instead, she gently maneuvered her mother into a waiting armchair and took another seat herself. She tried not to let her notice her brief, critical examination, but at least her mother seemed hale enough. Her hair, much lighter than the dark color Kiara had inherited from her father, was in an intricately braided style, her face had regained all of its color, and her blue eyes sparkled with life, as usual.
Lady Florance Lyns was a robust, middle-aged woman, but she wasn’t as young as she had been, and the Class Lady of the Court did not offer many physical advantages or enhancements to her hardiness. Completing a journey through conditions like the present ones, in the winter, through sometimes contested territory, was not wise for any lady, much less a pregnant woman. Unfortunately, her husband had failed to expressly forbid her from coming, and Lady Florance hadn’t let the circumstances stop her. She had had to rest quite a bit since her arrival a few days ago, however.
“It was fine,” Kiara said. “I still don’t think the camp is quite safe, or the best place to be for you, Mother. You should prepare to head back soon.” While we still can, she didn’t add aloud.
Her mother’s arrival had caused Kiara more than one headache, although she couldn’t find it in herself to truly mind it. She had missed her more than she’d expected over the past few months. Still, she didn’t want to have to worry about her safety on top of everything else, and the Lyns march should be at least marginally safer.
Her mother made a dismissive gesture and gave her a stern look. “Do not change the subject, young lady. You should take better care of yourself, and mind your safety.”
“Really, it was fine, I was never in much danger,” Kiara repeated. “And you’re the one who just dodged my words, Mother. Are you making preparations to head back home?”
Florance tossed her head. “Even your father isn’t trying to pack me off back home right this minute,” she said. “I can stand some soldiers and fighting in my vicinity, Kiara. I am hardly as fragile as all that. And I could not just abandon you to war without at least coming to see you.”
At first, Kiara had entertained suspicions that her father might even have called her mother here himself, to make a point. But she’d dismissed those quickly. She knew he was the one person even more concerned than her about her mother, especially since she was carrying his child.
“And what about June?” she asked instead.
Her mother sighed slightly. “June is perfectly fine. I know your sister can be sickly, Kiara, but she truly does not need me hovering over her all the time.”
Kiara frowned a bit, but nodded. Calling her little sister sickly was an understatement, but she had to admit her mother wasn’t wrong.
“As long as she’s being looked after,” she muttered. “I’d still feel better if at least you were there with her.”
If pressed, she would have bet that more than half of her father’s noble supporters had forgotten he even had a second daughter. The rate was not much better even in their own fief, however. June might be one of the smartest girls, or even women, Kiara knew, but the fact that she could barely get out of her family’s castle overshadowed all of that. Her own family generally liked to forget about her existence. And Kiara usually refrained from drawing attention to it, as well, since that was more likely to hurt than help and she knew June preferred it that way. With a bit of guilt, Kiara realized that she herself had barely thought of her sister in the last few months. She’d simply had too many other things calling for her attention.
“Don’t worry yourself.” Her mother patted her arm. “My sweet princess.”
Kiara forced a smile and didn’t dwell on her last word. “We are most likely going to be moving out soon,” she said. “I’ll know more after this evening’s meeting. I’ll talk to Father and make sure he prepares the necessary arrangements.” She raised a hand to stop her mother from responding. “Trust me, Mother, this is for the best. Our pulling up camp should create enough of a bustle for you to depart without much notice, and you truly can’t stay with us after that. Especially if Father takes us into the southeast and further away from home.” And with Father and myself both pushing it, that should take care of everything.
Her mother sat back in her seat and regarded her silently for a moment, before she nodded. “You really have blossomed out here, haven’t you?” she asked. She smiled slightly. “I always knew you had it in you to be successful, even if we never spent much time at court. Those men I’ve seen you talking to, they’re Duke Bluegrass’s men, aren’t they? Bold of you to make a play for him, but it seems to have worked.”
Kiara cocked her head and shrugged. “He approached me, actually,” she replied. “I’ve also made sure he’s not the only lord I’ve built connections with.”
Her mother nodded. “So you are not dependent on him, that’s good. Do be careful not to reach too far, too fast, though. You don’t want to seem like you’re overreaching, or be seen as a threat. I don’t think your father would stop and discipline you, at least not easily, but he will if they give him no choice.”
Kiara crossed her legs and shifted her weight. She’d only seen this side of her mother rarely, and she appreciated this opportunity. “How are things going to change with … well, that?” She nodded towards her mother’s belly.
Lady Florance frowned and shook her head at her. “If it is a son, everything will change for you,” she said bluntly. “You know that. And no, I cannot help you with that, even if I wanted to work against my own son. If it is another daughter instead, not much will change. Always assuming the child survives, of course.” Her face twisted with remembered pain, and she paused for a short while. “As long as the matter is still uncertain, you still have a lot of room to maneuver. I advise trying to get the best position you can and to be prepared. Things can change quickly in times of war.”
Kiara frowned, trying not to show the stab of disappointment she felt, and instead concentrated on what else her mother had said. “So, I suppose the eastern lords might be a good group to approach …”
Despite herself, she felt herself relaxing as she conferred with her mother on these issues. This was not the kind of guidance she could have received from her father, and she valued it. Even if a part of her wondered if there was any point to it, if they were going to lose the war and their lives despite anything they could do about it.