Aichlan looked to gauge the siblings’ reactions, but it was as if Severin were already prepared for the news, and Maleah did not speak enough of the language to grasp severity. Still, the prospect of not only hearing one’s homeland was to be destroyed, but to sit with those who plotted its destruction was incomprehensible to Aichlan.

  “Once that threat has been dealt with, they march towards Elysia, we are to meet them. That is why we reclaim our borders with Sorn, we will require a supply line if we are to make the journey through that wretched land.”

  “That’s my home you bastard…”

  Aichlan tensed, fearing another incident at Taryn’s remark, though fortunately only he heard her.

  “We need to reclaim the holy seat of The Order. All else will follow suit.” A general murmur of agreement went around the table, only Aichlan and his Elysian speaking officers had a problem with the king’s plan.

  “Aichlan, you were recently in Sorn were you not?”

  “Yes, during spring, but we were in the southern Wraith Wood for the majority of the journey. Our only contact with anyone came from an encounter with bandits who had taken control of the port city Nole. We know little else.”

  “Actually, I know something, but I’m not sure if I should say it.”

  Aichlan was certain that if it made Maleah think twice about saying, then it should most definitely go unsaid. However, curiosity got the better of him; it could in fact be pertinent.

  “Tell it to Séverin, um, secretly. I will allow him to be judge.”

  “Is there a problem Aichlan?”

  Aichlan smiled and shook his head. “No your majesty, it is just that not all in my army can speak Elysian.”

  Séverin tapped Aichlan on the shoulder as his sister finished telling her tale. “It seems when they made port in Blithe upon Woe, the city was already empty. We can expect that the country is lost completely. Maleah’s concern however was explaining her presence in the city to begin with.”

  Aichlan idly swirled his wine as he chewed over the new information. “Noted, however I am certain they are prepared for that contingent.”

  “Aichlan?”

  “Your majesty, if I may, the Priestess Renata is in Osric’s clutches.” Aichlan set down his wine glass and searched the faces of the lords and ladies assembled, only around half of which seemed to be listening. “If we are to end this and return The Order, we must stop this madman.”

  The response was more lackluster than Aichlan had anticipated. Aichlan looked to Laelianus and silently urged him to offer his support, but the king was uncharacteristically evasive.

  “There is a certain logic in that line of thinking,” Laelianus beckoned his servant and whispered an order to him, still avoiding Aichlan’s entreating gaze, “but I cannot allow it, we know not where he is and it would only amount to an army wandering around Sorn losing soldiers in meaningless encounters.”

  Aichlan was at a loss for words at how quickly Laelianus dismissed him. The man was pragmatic and shrewd to a fault, but also arrogant and a man of conviction. His outright refusal to aid the Priestess was not only against his best interests, the reasoning given did not fit the man’s character. This new Laelianus was as feckless as the lords assembled, something that enraged Aichlan to no end. Despite interpersonal difficulties, Laelianus had been someone Aichlan counted on, all of his plans thus far had hinged on the arrogant prick of a lord turned king riding into battle with him. It felt like a betrayal.

  “There is Yggdrasil, which would be his next objective.”

  Laelianus looked to Séverin, as curious as Aichlan was as to how he came about this knowledge. “And how would you know this?”

  “It follows a pattern your Majesty, Osric has previously stolen an artifact from the Colby-Nau of Rhode.”

  “Those,” Laelianus flapped his finger in Enyo’s direction as he struggled to think of a suitable word. “Boors have artifacts? And of significance no less?” Laelianus jested, bringing giggles from his fellows.

  “Boors, a quaint though quite unfitting term meaning the same thing as the dozen or so other terms you likely sifted through.” Órfhlaith replied coolly with a chuckle. “Yes your majesty, we have artifacts, we have law, and a culture surpassing your own in many regards. Most importantly, we have a form of government that is suitable for a race of men and women no longer living in the dark ages of such fallacy that first brought about divine right; that way if an idiot somehow manages to gain power it can be taken away as quickly as it was given, by those who gave it. The true barbarians would be those who suffer the fool to lead them to oblivion and his fool children to take the reins after his passing. Your majesty.”

  Aichlan was stunned, and the room was silent as Laelianus regarded Órfhlaith with calmness and an emotionless expression. Only his twitching jaw muscle gave away the rage likely roiled beneath the surface. Aichlan had no idea that she spoke such fluent Elysian, and with such pomp in her voice. It took him a moment to realize it was her speaking.

  “Are you quite done?” Laelianus spat, tapping his ring against the glass.

  “No, but I will save the rest for a later date.” She smiled sweetly as she took up her wine glass.

  “What is your name, woman?”

  “Órfhlaith.”

  Laelianus nodded and held up his glass for more wine. “A beautiful name.”

  Laelianus looked to the clock mounted on the wall across from him, standing as the bent man rushed to his side. “Unfortunately, this has gone on longer than expected, it is past lunch. You are all welcome to join me in the dining hall within the hour. We can discuss the matter further on a full stomach, and determine the most efficient way to reclaim our lost cities.”

  “With all due respect, what of us?” Aichlan stood, sweating in spite of himself.

  “Ah yes,” The king flashed a smile like a dagger in the dark, “I have a unit you may command.”

  “But I have an army.”

  “No Aichlan, you have a band of ruffians. I understand that times are dire, but most of your ‘army’ I would not trust with my laundry. If they are willing, I will incorporate them into my own personal troops, but the ragtag group of officers you have assembled before me are not fit to lead by anyone’s standards. I have seen the Rhodeans in battle, there are more tactics in a tavern. As for the Sorn remnants, you travel with; their title alone gives them away as the failures they are.”

  Aichlan’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinized his former comrade. “Why are you doing this?”

  “It is prudence Aichlan, your men have already destroyed a valuable port, and I can’t risk them doing the same to the rest of the interior. That said, our need for men cannot be overlooked. I will make arrangements for you to oversee their placement and give you permission to head up any operations in the west.”

  “I did not march this far to be no more than glorified errand boy!” Aichlan roared.

Enjoying the story? Show your support by reading it on the official site.

  “Calm yourself General.” Laelianus chuckled as he gave a condescending gesture for Aichlan to lower his intensity. “You are guests in my kingdom, and my decision on the matter is final. If you wish to discuss this further, speak to Orson to arrange an audience, I shall endeavor to make myself available.”

  Aichlan held up his hand as Séverin stood. He undid his collar and ran his hands through hair, aggressively mussing it over. He looked around the room, his eyes coming to rest on the smug face of Laelianus. In the end, the outcome was expected, Laelianus always did what was best for Laelianus. Aichlan only wished he had not put his soldiers through all the song and dance if the outcome were inevitable.

  “…Get fucked Laelianus.” A gasp went up in the room and a lady fainted behind Aichlan, but he no longer cared.

  “So those are your sentiments?” Laelianus smirked, never losing his air of control. “After every courtesy I have extended? I know you Aichlan, I will let you command a unit in my army to reclaim your host nation and lost honor. However, I will not have flame wielding savages and peasant filth sully our efforts! You of all people should understand this.”

  “Maleah, you may change.”

  “Finally.”

  Maleah drew a knife from her boot and slit the loops binding her corset. She let out a sigh of relief as she fell into a contented slouch.

  “Enyo, Rowena, retrieve our soldiers from The Missions. Taryn, Madden, you do the same. We leave within the hour. Séverin, escort the Cardinal to her quarters; gather those of The Order still willing to follow us.”

  “So, you’ll leave then? And go where?” Laelianus laughed, smugness still engraved in his face.

  Aichlan pointed at the man who threw his glove at the onset of this ill-fated meeting. “You.”

  He could no longer face the King and keep his anger in check. The man’s arrogance was far more disgusting than he remembered or could have possibly prepared himself for.

  “Fuck you. Get two o’ yer posse so I can fuckin’ kill the lot o’ you.”

  Aichlan threw the man’s glove back in his face, though feeling that lacked impact he hurled a goblet as well, dousing those around him with wine before the glass dashed against the wall. Several women shrieked as they and their male counterparts recoiled away from Aichlan, their eyes wide with fear.

  “Throw a fuckin’ glove at me you whoreson bastard. Eth, Donough, you’re my second and thirds.”

  “Gladly Gen’ral.” Eth grinned, faced with an arena he was quite comfortable in.

  “Aichlan, you have six and a half thousand soldiers. Where will you go?” Laelianus calmly asked, attempting to dissuade Aichlan from his current course.

  “I have six and a half thousand soldiers; I go where the fuck I please.” Aichlan shot back as the room began to clear out for fear of further aggressions.

  “I will not tolerate such language in the presence of Ladies and my Liege!” The red-faced old soldier from earlier stood. “You are a disgrace to The Order and the knightly vows you have sworn, and I take great issue with you sir! I challenge you to duel!”

  “Fuck you too then.” Aichlan spat with an obscene gesture for emphasis.

  “How vulgar!” A woman cried in disgust.

  “You know nothing of what we fight!” Aichlan glared at each of the cowering noblemen and women, and the backs of those attempting to flee the room. “You all still think this is some game to be played; the centuries of treating men like pieces of a board game are at their end! War is primal, it is savage and soldiers say fuck!

  “This is no different than it always has been; only now you must face it. And that scares the hell out of you! It scares you that you could die, and when it’s all said and done; your corpse will look the same as the peasant farmer next to you. Your title and status means nothing on the field of battle unless there is a rank attached. Even then it means little if no one is willing to follow you.

  “These six and a half thousand follow me, and they follow those I appoint over them, because if our roles were reversed and I were the soldier; I would follow Eth into battle, Taryn and Fiora. I would even ride by Maleah’s side! I would fight for them as they have fought for me.” Aichlan slammed his fist on the table for emphasis, and aimed his finger at each and every noble in the room.

  “I challenge each of you to tell your soldiers you can no longer pay them. See how many remain. Do this and know that these six and a half thousand have shed blood for me, faced death and some have even given their lives, all without a single coin. Do this, and see how many don’t laugh in your powdered faces and walk away.”

  Aichlan looked from one stunned face to the other; the adrenaline had begun to wear off, and only Ashe’s smiling face bolstered him in his resolve. He knew what he spoke was the truth, but was it the proper place or way to go about speaking the truth? Though many no doubt thought the king would have his head, Aichlan knew otherwise. Their relationship was one of toleration at best. They both were Knights in the Order even though Laelianus always had the title of Duke; they were brothers in arms all the same. The only real difference was Laelianus had the option to pay to end his service, but even that did little to quell the rivalry between the two. Too much history lay behind them for this little spat to matter much, though it didn’t stop them from fighting like mortal enemies occasionally, and they were well overdue.

  “Let’s go, we have much to do.” Aichlan turned to face the two men who had challenged him. “Within the hour, in front of the fountain in the palace gardens. Don’t make me search for you.”

  Aichlan strode out as his officers pushed out their chairs and stood to follow and carry out their tasks. Aichlan stopped adjacent to Laelianus; his hand rested on his sword pommel.

  “Next time you wish to flaunt power at my expense or otherwise attempt to humiliate me for political gains, I’ll kill you myself.” The low tone contained the severity and sincerity of Aichlan’s threat.

  Aichlan continued on, leaving a red faced Laelianus in his wake. Aichlan looked to see a cowering noble, and his disgust grew even more. There was a man who was supposed to lead men into battle, and this was his reaction when swords were not yet even drawn? Aichlan spat at the man’s feet and continued on, wanting nothing more than to be rid of this palace.

  “Lord Aichlan.” Siegrun stood before him, blocking his exit.

  Aichlan paused, confused and wary as to why Siegrun would wish to stop him. “What?”

  “For a moment, I saw General Garrick embodied before me, I have it on good authority that a similar occurrence happened in this very room some years ago.”

  Francis chuckled; Aichlan turned and noticed the dreadlocked head and green coat of his wayward admiral. Aichlan wondered why the two of them were together, but ignored it. He had much bigger concerns at the moment. Aichlan shook his head and continued his exodus, with Siegrun and Francis on his heels.

  “Where the hell were you?”

  “Mi given da wrong time Aichlan, naebody told me to be ‘ere so early.”

  “You needn’t leave General.”

  Aichlan glanced at Siegrun from the corner of his eye as he stormed his way back to his room. He was curious as to the woman’s intentions but unwilling to waste any more time on the issue.

  “Your army has already been accepted by the newly formed Briternican alliance.”

  Aichlan paused and turned to face the woman, as she looked blank faced back at him. “His Majesty Céolsige of Aes Sidhe has authorized it; General Izarius of Rhodarcium delivered the edict personally.”

  Siegrun removed a rolled up document from a case at her hip and handed it to Aichlan. Aichlan unrolled it and scanned the page. It was written in the grand script reserved for courtly documents, the great seal of a Sylph at the bottom. He knew he should have been relieved, but the document only served to anger him more. What the hell was Laelianus playing at by denying him earlier? Did he think Aichlan would just accept it without a fight?

  “Why did you not present this earlier?”

  “Though I am a soldier of Rhodarcium, I am in service to the kingdom of Duvachellé, and Laelianus is king.”

  “And my army? The Rhodeans and Sorn remnants, have they been accepted as well?”

  “Did you not read the edict General? Yes, your army is legitimate. You and your officers can command any soldier in the Alliance. You also have a mission of sorts.”

  “First, I need to know what this alliance will do for my army, I came to Duvachellé seeking soldiers to retake the Priestess and destroy Osric. Will my goals be met?”

  Siegrun was silent for several moments, though Aichlan got no impression that she was thinking over his questions. “You will receive soldiers should you choose to accept the mission set before you General.”

  “What be dis mission den lass? I’ve not the patience to continue talkin’ in circles an’ neither do da General does it seem.” Francis said.

  Aichlan was irritated at Francis’ interruption, but knew at his present state he would have not made any progress talking with this woman. His blood was already boiling and her indifference and seeming apathy only stoked the flames.

  “You are to set up a base of operations in Aglaë.”

  Aichlan laughed aloud, not able to believe the message this Siegrun woman had just relayed, and the seriousness of her expression. Surely, this was meant as a joke.

  “You mean we are to die.” Aichlan crumpled the paper and dropped it at her feet. “No, I will not accept, and I will not join your alliance that thinks so little of us. Admiral,”

  “Hrm?”

  “Ready your men, we are leaving.”

  “To wander the forests?” Siegrun persisted. “Or perhaps to wander Sorn? Either way you will face loss and die needlessly.”

  “What rank are you?”

  “Lieutenant—“

  “Then act like it and talk to me with some fucking respect!” Aichlan spat before turning and continuing on his way, fists clenched, he struck a portrait as he rounded a corner.

   Siegrun stood silently as his officers followed him; Francis shrugged the incident off and patted Siegrun on the shoulder before he headed in the opposite direction. Siegrun brushed her hair from her face, her expression as placid as ever, before she turned on her heels to enter the council chambers.