XLI. OF HOPES AND DREAMS
The greenhouse of Marquez palace was a tropical oasis in the harsh winter cold of Deadsun. Brightly colored flowers, exotic trees and ferns from the jungles of Eurithania and Lyresia filled the great domed building with the smells and colors of summer and the tropics year round. Aislyn sat at a glass table near an oversized bay window overlooking the snow-filled courtyard below. The ferns rustled in the faint tropical breezes given off by several wind charms scattered throughout the greenhouse, Aislyn’s gaze was thoughtful and melancholic, more in tune with the weather outside than the paradise she had chosen to sequester herself within.
Aichlan slowly opened the heavy crystal door leading to the greenhouse, overcome by a sudden unexpectedly hot gust of wind. It quickly dawned upon him that he had come overdressed. As if anticipating this, a butler made his way towards the new guests to take his parka and scarf. Fiora followed, equally surprised by the warmth and exoticness of the building. She unbuttoned her coat and dropped it on the floor as she attempted to hand it to the butler. Her eyes were fixed towards the sky, her mouth agape in awe.
“Ah! General Aichlan, you’re earlier than expected.” Aislyn called out as she folded her napkin and stood.
Aichlan bowed somewhat stiffly. In preparation for the meeting, he had been given an outfit in the colors of the reigning monarch. The red and black doublet and hose was far more comfortable than mail or the choking vestments of The Order, but he still felt out of place.
“If now is not a good time…” Aichlan began, equally enraptured by the scenery.
“No, don’t be silly.” Aislyn motioned for them to take a seat. “Please, join me.”
Aichlan grabbed Fiora and led her by the hand, snapping her from her reverie. They took their seats next to the ferns and fluorescent flowers. Servants brought them tea and a pitcher of fruit juice to accompany the pastries already laid out before them. Fiora absently picked at the assortment as she continued to look around in awe. Aichlan was a bit more pragmatic however, this wasn’t a social visit.
“I would like to congratulate and thank you on your success General. I realize this is not your country and there are pressing issues you must attend.”
Aichlan poured himself a cup of tea, not missing Aislyn’s distant expression. “It is a means to an end. Osric has nowhere to hide now save the fallen kingdom of Sorn.”
“So it seems.”
“Unfortunately, we lost a majority of our Sorn units; they opted to stay behind to defend family and loved ones. Taryn wished to discourage their decision, but in the end, I allowed it. Men unwilling to fight will serve us little in the battles to come, they will be of much greater use preventing another such invasion as the one we incurred a few months ago.”
Aislyn took a piece of mango in her fingers and took a bite, chewing her words more so than the fruit. “So, who do you have left General?”
Aichlan took a sip of tea before answering. “The Colby-Nau won’t be going anywhere until Osric is brought to justice, Maleah’s units and Admiral Donnelyn’s marauders remain, as do the remnant soldiers of Sorn.”
“And they are still under your command Major?”
Fiora nearly choked on her juice, not expecting to be addressed. “Yes your highness.” She nodded, sheepishly avoiding eye contact. “I and Rowena have put together a company of former Sorn.”
“Our next planned sortie will be to liberate the cities along Sorn’s border. The troops Laelianus stationed there lost their foothold when they were called back to Marquez.” Aichlan helped himself to a slice of melon as he studied Aislyn’s distant expression. “Our army will then continue on to Aglaë.”
Aislyn snapped from her reverie, fumbling her fork. “But that’s madness! That city is a proverbial viper pit! There is no way you can launch an assault on Sorn with the numbers you have!”
“All the more reason to end this quickly, before he can amass more strength.”
“And what of my city? Without the Colby-Nau masons, it would take decades to rebuild the walls. Will you just leave my city, a city that has welcomed you all with open arms, defenseless and wounded?”
“We cannot stay here with your highness.” Fiora said tepidly, bowing her head as she looked first to Aichlan and back to the Princess. “ We must end this now; the previous battle has proven this.”
Shock followed by outrage flashed across the princesses face at being addressed by a lowborn Sorn knight, both of which she deftly hid behind a raised teacup. “But haven’t you lost men?”
“Only around four hundred.” Aichlan interrupted. “Insignificant in the grand scheme of things.”
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“Can’t we wait for the alliance to arrive? That seems the more prudent route.” Aislyn asked, flustered and unwilling to lose her only allies in these desperate times.
“I’m sure Órfhlaith will be willing to send for more masons and laborers if that is what you require.” Aichlan offered in what he hoped was a conciliatory tone, his patience with the nobility of Duvachellé’s constant attempts to stonewall him had long since lapsed. “Duvachellé has been most accommodating to those who have lost their homelands to this conflict. That said, this is a matter that goes beyond Marquez, and I will not allow others to be similarly displaced due to inaction.”
“I simply won’t allow it.” Aislyn said definitely.
Aichlan forced himself with some difficulty to bide his tongue. She sounded a lot like Laelianus had, and he wondered if she was beholden to the same masters. Regardless, he was unwilling to continue playing politics with so much at stake.
“We received word from Aes Sidhe, they are held up in Elysia.” Fiora calmly began, shocking Aislyn once more with the suddenness. “The seat of The Order has no military to defend against The Dusk hordes. As a result, they are forced to divide their forces.”
Aichlan smiled, it seemed his efforts to break Fiora from her shell were having an effect. “In order for this to work, our army must meet with theirs in Aglaë. We shall be leaving in--”
“Frostmoon.” Aislyn interrupted and sipped her tea. “I am afraid this is non-negotiable, there will be a ball in Frostmoon--”
“I am aware of this.” Aichlan poured himself a refill, though his thirst was for something far stronger, still baffled by Aislyn’s obstinance.
“It shall serve as your proper send off as well as celebration of your recent victories. Your presence of course will be necessary.” She continued with a self satisfied glint in her eyes, unfazed by Aichlan’s displeased expression. “Isn’t your child set to be due at that time anyway? Would you not rather be present for the birth and leave when the snows begin to melt in the spring?”
“Though I disagree with the concept of delay, I can admit there is truth to your words.” Aichlan clenched his fists and took a sip of tea to help ease the swallowing of his ride. “It is important to repair the citizen’s morale. Your highness.”
“Thank you General.” She replied, a bit more smugly than he would have cared for.
“Fiora, I will need for you to ready a detachment to spearhead our operation.”
“Understood.” She replied knowingly.
“I am afraid you will miss out on the festivities,” Aichlan said, not missing the glares Aislyn shot his way. “I will be sure to make up for it to you somehow.”
Aislyn frowned with an audible huff, irritated by his unwillingness to simply bow to her will, she had him beat. “Is it wise to divide your forces as such General?”
“Laelianus is in Aglaë with Osric, and hopefully the still breathing Priestess Renata. I am aware of the malice you hold towards him, but he is king, and a man I do owe a bit of gratitude towards.”
“If you will excuse me your Highness, General.” Fiora bowed and pushed in her chair before making her exit.
“I came here to raise an army and end Osric. I did not come here to become involved in some game of politics. Our enemy has holed himself up in Sorn; we must make a move to strike now.”
“Politics aside,” Aislyn idly picked at the assortment of fruit before her. “It is the dead of winter.”
Aichlan sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Séverin says we should act now. He claims that his brother hated winter, and for him to act now, must mean he is on a time schedule.”
Aislyn cocked her head to the side and laughed, unsure if he was serious or not. “Please don’t tell me you’re basing a military strategy on second hand knowledge that as a child, our enemy disliked winter?”
Aichlan cleared his throat, growing slightly flushed. “We have him, your Highness, why give him a chance to mount another attack?”
“I don’t do this strictly out of malice for that usurper; I can’t afford to leave the kingdom susceptible to another attack. We have so few soldiers left, and more leave to be with family in recently reclaimed cities. I have difficulty as it is reigning in the lords, with your departure, the meager troops they’ve left at the capitol will be withdrawn.”
Aislyn tore and knotted her napkin, eventually, unwittingly shredding the linen. “The people are broken Aichlan, and I cannot mend their hearts. I know not if it would occur even under that man’s rule, but my fear is that it would not. I am a naïve princess thrust into command of a nation at war, I cannot fail Aichlan!”
In her fervor, Aislyn rose from her seat, startling several servants in waiting nearby. She smoothed her gown and took her seat again, and took a sip of her tea. Aichlan knew it was a matter of time before the pressure got to her. With his ear to the scullery girl’s door, along with the ever gossiping Alice and Clarissa, he heard many of Marquez’s sordid rumors. Most people, even in his own kingdom of Aes Sidhe, knew of Aislyn as the spoiled Princess, distant and cold. Having traveled with her, he found that to be somewhat hard to believe, but did understand she was detached from the base. Especially the nobles who only sought to tie themselves to her name for promises of power and access to the throne. She was certainly more ambitious and self serving than the people were comfortable with being embodied in a princess.
“These times are full of uncertainty, if you truly want to endear yourself to the people, you must walk among them. Reassure them by listening to some of their complaints. They worry about Laelianus; they are afraid because a city deemed impregnable was proved fallible.”
“You tell me nothing I do not already know Aichlan,” Aislyn tossed the remains of her napkin on the table in disgust, signaling the end of the meal, “tell me the how’s, like how to remedy this. I already know what ails them.”
“I am but a soldier, such conundrums are far beyond me.” Aichlan shrugged and splayed his open hands. “But the fact that you endear yourself to commoners such as the Sorn archer and the young boy from Barrington Hills is a step in the right direction, I suppose.”
Aislyn blushed and looked away. “This city has always thrived on rumors; I’ve learned long ago not to put any stock in them.”
Aichlan stood, and set his napkin on his plate. “Then perhaps maybe now you should. If you’ll excuse me.” Aichlan bowed and took his leave as butlers came to bus the table.