It’s been three days since the March. A busy three days, though not physically.

In the wake of our talk, my contrite lovers proved clingy. Their arms held me prisoner in Alana’s room, mostly atop her bed, but their need for physical intimacy couldn’t stop the flow of time. With the campaign drawing ever closer and the consequences of the March to sort out, there is much to do.

The hunters have been handled. Alana wanted to give them all back to her brother. We don’t plan on conducting our siege on the north in a conventional manner and have no need of a large force that would probably stab us in the back. Returning them to her brother would also occupy him, stalling any attempts at revenge.

However, Geneva countered that plan with one argument. If no one sees it, it didn’t happen.

We are here for glory. The plan is to build an outpost in the north, the first of its kind. Something permanent that the knights of Victory can occupy for years to come. It would also serve as proof of our conquest, as there are only so many bodies I’m prepared to haul through the snow.

The problem with that is people lie. And because people lie, they are also filled with distrust. Our accomplishments will be obvious but someone will deny them. Claim that it was this order or the duke himself that is responsible.

Or they’ll downplay our accomplishment. Make it seem like it’s much easier than everyone thinks. The people of Victory will understand but they’re not the ones who I’m trying to impress. It’s the rest of the kingdom and the crown. They’ll take anything coming out of the north as rumors.

What is much harder to ignore is several eyewitnesses sharing drunken stories in a tavern. We may not need the extra manpower but that doesn’t mean there are no uses for it.

Geneva also offered to solve the biggest problem of bringing them along. Namely, controlling them. Her plan is to make them covet their place by limiting the number of hunters we take with us. It’s not hard. Those who accompany us have the chance to be a part of history and, likely more important to them, have a much better chance at survival. There’s been so much death, they’re scared and jumpy. Desperate for a modicum safety. If we make them fight for it, they’ll treasure it. It’s the next best thing to loyalty, according to my succubus.

Either way, she’s confident and is looking to get in my good graces, so we sent the succubus off to corral the hunters. There is also work for us to do. Alana needs to coordinate with her family and the orders. She eventually left the bed to prepare for a large meeting between all the leaders of the campaign.

If it were before the March, she’d be a nervous wreck, anxious to make sure she leaves a good impression, but our argument has cooled her eagerness regarding her family. Her determination is still present and she goes over previous campaign notes with the focus of a predator stalking prey but her pure belief in her last name has been marred.

I have my own preparations to handle. First of which is seeing Cloud off. She’s lingered because of the excitement but it’s time for her and her beasties to return to the Sanctuary. She did me a big favor in getting my supplies here, though I dare say she enjoyed the journey. I’ll have to find a proper way to thank her but the least I can do is see her off.

I find her in the stables beside the estate, taking a brush to the beasties. I don’t see the point as their lustrous coats will soon be dirtied by the road but she spoils her animals. I won’t be the one to tell her to do otherwise.

The monstrous horse’s ear flicks on my approach. She pauses and turns, a small frown transforming into a large smile as she recognizes me. “Sister.” She shrugs off the hood of her thick cloak as I approach. “Come to set the wind to my back?”

I chuckle. “Going to miss puzzling out everything you say. Sure you want to head back?”

“I must. The brethren are anxious in foreign territory. I am the same.” She goes back to brushing. “To each their pasture. I am no fan of snow. Or war.”

“Mm. Then you can wait for the good news.”

“I expect nothing else.” She pauses. Her eyes flick up to me nervously, an emotion I have never seen from her before her gaze drops to the ground. “Would you come closer, sister?”

I approach with caution, wary of anything that makes her wary. She motions me closer until our shoulders are pressed together tightly. Then she lowers her voice further. “I would ask you of your…abilities but I do not wish to tread dangerous water.”

“Hey, we’re friends. You can ask though I may not answer.”

She nods. “In the circle…you changed into many forms. Can you do that with any creature?”

I shut my eyes, debating on how much to reveal. Or if I should reveal anything at all. Hm. It’s Cloud. She wouldn’t bring this up frivolously. And this is the first time she has asked me for anything. I have no doubt this is setup for a favor. It must be pretty important too. Cloud has made it very clear that she is not one of my lovers. I think she ties that into accepting favors fro me because she has yet to take advantage of my generosity to any degree.

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“I can but I need enough of the creature to…study.”

She sucks in a deep breath before letting it out slowly. “There is a need for that kind of ability in the Sanctuary. A great need. For the breeders.” Her eyes look at me hesitantly. “For the elusive brethren, it is difficult to find…mating pairs.”

Wait. Is she asking… “No. Absolutely not.”

“It would not require direct intimacy. The breeders are skilled at milking the males.”

“That does not make this any more uncomfortable.”

Cloud chuckles. “My brethren would not forgive me if I did not ask. Do not think of it anymore, sister. Lest you ever need a favor from the Sanctuary or a little more gold.”

“I won’t. Saints.”

With that disturbing thought in my head, I help Cloud prepare her beasties for the long journey ahead. They are not receptive to my attention, prancing in place anxiously and tossing their heads at my approach. What I lack in animal graces I make up with brute strength. I force them to hold still as I examine their feet, brush out the snags in their coats, and feed them snacks of dried fruit.

Cloud hitches four of the beasts to one of my wagons, loaded down with feed. The few stable boys hanging around aren’t happy with that, giving us nasty glares from a safe distance. Whether it be from my performance at the Witness Circle or Geneva’s previous meddling, they don’t dare speak their misgivings. We leave the stable unharried.

I imagine the procession of nearly three dozen manabeasts makes quite a sight. The locals certainly give way, which is a first. Another effect of my new reputation? I won’t complain. The front gate is also lifted without any questions.

As for why I’m still on the bench beside Cloud, I think it’s best I see her past the village. It’d be a shame if those clowns from Waking Beast give her any trouble. As aggressive as the mana enhanced horses are, they aren’t strong enough to defend themselves from rowdy knights.

The same with Cloud. She’s strong, but not that strong. I’d wager she’s about even with Alana, because of her regeneration, in pure ability. Alana is the better fighter and I wouldn’t trust her to fight her way through the village. Thankfully, the tamer isn’t bothered by the escort.

It seems an unnecessary precaution. The knights of Waking Beast aren’t standing on the road as we put the village behind us. Instead, three men dressed in white armor and white capes with dark blue suns on the back block the way. Each of them wears swords at their sides and shields on their back. They don’t move as we approach, forcing us to ease to a stop.

The knight in the middle walks toward us with a bright smile. If I step outside of my bias and appraise him, he’s handsome. Uncommonly so. Thick blond hair, bright hazel eyes, tanned, tall, fit, strong chin, and a brilliant smile. He’s someone perfect depiction of a hero, I bet. The kind the ladies of the capital would faint in the presence of when he kissed the back of their hands at a ball.

Better, he simply has that air about him. A…kindness. I’m surprised with myself for daring to think such an absurd thing but there’s something about him that could quiet crying babies and tame savage strays.

“Good afternoon, ladies.” Saints blessed asses, even his voice is perfect. Rich and mellow. If a woman had that voice, well. It would do things to me. Seeing who it’s attached to, it’s merely pleasant on the ears. “My apologies for holding you up but there are rules. I must inspect your cargo but I will try to make it quick and painless.”

“You could at least introduce yourself before pawing through our things,” I say.

My voice is purposely aggressive. Something about his demeanor is irking. I want to put a crack in his polite features. He’s unruffled by my tone, lips quirking in a small smile.

“Lancecain Polluck. No need to introduce yourself, Lady Lourianne Tome. I’m sure everyone in the north knows your name by now.”

Hm. There’s something about his name that’s familiar…

“I don’t know the name of your fair companion.”

“Cloudy Blood Moon.”

“Charmed, fair lady. Pardon me for any rudeness but I must do my duties. If I have your leave?”

“Anytime,” Cloud practically purrs.

I give her a look as he waves one of the other knights forward. The look she gives me in turn is unapologetic. She makes her feelings even more blatant by turning toward the knight and licking her lips, eying him up and down.

To his credit, Lancecain takes the attention with unprecedented grace, showing neither a sign of appreciation nor rejection. “I didn’t expect you to leave Victory so soon, Lady Tome.”

“I’m not. Just escorting Cloud to the road.”

“Admirable.”

“And you? What’s a man of good character like yourself doing waylaying hapless maidens?”

He chuckles. “You have a profound sense of humor to describe yourself as hapless. Duty finds me on this road, though not the formal one of my comrades. My mentor should be arriving soon. I thought it would be good if I was here to meet him. As it is the Duelists turn to provide security, I intruded on their watch.”

“Duelists?”

“The Order of the Polar Duelists. Knights of Victory who specialize in duels or fighting singular opponents. In campaigns, we stay in the middle of a formation until a particularly nasty foe rears its head.”

“Showing off?”

“Not at all. As I understand it, Alana will be one of the more prominent commanders of the campaign. It wouldn’t be a terrible idea to bolster your hunter forces with a few knights. I simply wanted to make you aware of your choices. The Duelists always perform admirably.”

The knight alongside the wagon finishes his inspection and returns to his place. “It seems all is well.” Lancecain nods as he steps aside. “I won’t hold you up any longer.”

“Mm.”

Cloud doesn’t hesitate to get the wagon moving. I face forward, the short conversation with the heroic young man lingering. Something nags me about him. It’s only after several minutes of riding that it comes to me. Polluck. While I do struggle to remember irrelevant people, I’m not nearly as bad with names as I pretend. And that’s the name of Alana’s would-be teacher.

That leaves two options. One, that’s the good knight’s son. Problem with that is he looks nothing like him. Quite the opposite. While it’s possible he takes exceedingly after his mother or his grandparents or someone else, I doubt it. That leaves the second option.

It’s normal for teachers to give their names to their students. Particularly, their inheritors, the ones they pass on their legacies too. If this is another example of the tradition, that would make him Polluck’s inheritor. For that to have any meaning, he would also have to have a light affinity.

Seems I’ve met quite the important character.