XXXI. ONE DAY SON, THIS WILL ALL BE YOURS

The rag tag band of elven remnant warriors and traumatized clerics stood in a huddled mass discussing the purpose of their summons, oblivious to Aichlan’s presence in front of them. Many had started campfires and began on lunch as others sat around gossiping with pints of ale in one hand and a cloud of purple smoke about their heads. The city of Vergas lay only a few miles away at the bottom of a seaside cliff. If indeed the city were a haven for their enemies, they would no doubt be aware of their presence and prepping their offensive as they smoked and joked in obscurity. Aichlan was not pleased in the least.

“Órfhlaith,” he beckoned weakly.

“What can I do for ye General?” she chirruped.

He could not help but sense a sarcastic tone but could not be sure if she directed it at him or the situation as a whole.

Aichlan sighed deeply and gestured lazily with his hand. “You got a new rank; tell me how many combatants we’ve got.”

Órfhlaith retrieved a scroll from her wide sleeves with flourish and grand gestures. “Let us see,” she made a show of scanning the scroll. “No bloomin’ clue love.”

“Great, you’ve been demoted.” He said with the same monotone as when he began. “How many of the miner clan do we have that are willing and able to take up arms?”

“Two thousand five hundred.”

“Perfect, you’re the brigade commander, Colonel, or somethin’ like it.” He finished with an indifferent wave.

He scanned the crowd with dread; he was essentially starting from scratch. He snapped his fingers and gestured for the other leaders to join him, eager to move through the process as quickly as possible.

“I was akin to what those of your Rhodarcium call a senator, a politician, back on Rhode. The fact that I can wield a weapon is a given for any Rhodean and does not mean I am a military minded person. Ye do understand this don’t ye?”

“…What’s the difference? None of those present are militarily minded from as far as I can tell.”

“Hmm.” Órfhlaith tapped her chin thoughtfully with her finger. “Point taken. What about my chain o’ command?”

“I’ll leave that to your discretion.” Aichlan turned and called over his shoulder. “Donough!”

“Yeah?”

“How many warriors?”

“Seven-hundred of my clan, three hundred and sixty-five of Enyo’s and—”

“All together please Donough.” Aichlan said impatiently, taking a seat upon a large boulder.

“Around three thousand. But if ye intend upon assigning a commander for all, I must warn ye that several tribes are upon, shall we say bad terms…”

“You jest?” Aichlan sneered incredulously, but Donough’s face remained stoic. “Where’s the other bloke? Lothaire?”

“Lothaire died in Rhode, his death is the cause for the turmoil.”

“Bloody hell, you’re worse than The Order. All right, just, assume command. Give positions of authority to some of your detractors. Do what is necessary to maintain order and discipline. Colonel.”

“Gladly.”

“Where the hell is Maleah?”

“She is disposed at the moment,” Séverin replied as he skulked over to the meeting circle. “I shall relay any pertinent information.”

“I shall relay it to her directly, un-dispose of her and have her brought to me immediately.” Aichlan barked.

“Very well General.” He said with a bow and set out to find his delinquent sister.

“Do you plan on taking on this task single handedly then?” Garrick suddenly asked, a smug grin upon his face.

“By the Light…Eth.” Aichlan sighed, becoming more and more aggravated.

“Yeah?”

Aichlan bit his tongue, wishing to reprimand those who gave such casual response to a man that they permitted this rank upon. “You are my second; make sure my orders get dispersed throughout the ranks of Rhode. Clarissa.”

“Yes, my Lord?” She said sweetly, anticipating more perks of her new office perhaps. “I take it you would like a report on Zee Order next?”

“You assume correctly.” He replied sardonically, though it was lost on her swollen ego.

“One hundred and sixty-eight men and women of zee cloth; consisting of sixty-five brothers of Zee Rising Sun, and sixty-five sisters of Borealis. Zee rest are remnants of Priestess Renata’s sect and entourage. All of whom seem quite eager to debate my authority, and your own.”

“They wish only to see the balance of supposed power shifted in their favor, an impossibility so long as they know I still live. Pay them no head. How is Emarosa? I trust she is being helpful in accommodating your adjustment?”

“Quite ‘elpful Aichlan, which leads me to my next line of inquiry, why did you choose to elevate me to so high a seat in Zee Order, and not ‘er?”

Aichlan remained silent for several moments, thinking of how to best explain his decision. “…Because it was her who unwittingly set the hounds at my throat. If I were to place her in a seat of power, my enemies would be able to mold and twist her will to suit their own desires and sate their greed. Though I bear the woman no ill will, her naiveté is her undoing, whereas yours is strength.”

“Thank you, I think…” she replied, a bit disappointed and unsure of whether she had been complimented or insulted.

“Believe me, I would not have given you this task if I did not feel you worthy, all else aside. You shall act as my voice in The Order.” He looked her in the eyes, trying to convey every ounce of his sincerity.

The woman was a great boon and irreplaceable friend, ally and confidant. If it were not for her, Aichlan was not sure he would see Eth return to his usual churlish ways after the death of Io and his child. While the wounds were still open, he had not succumbed to the pit of despair upon whose precipice he once stood. She seemed to have a general concern for the wellbeing of her fellow man and elf, doing all in her power to save the lives of those that had lost everything. Generally, those in her position would leave such tasks to those beneath them; fortunately, Clarissa was not one of these people, despite her aspirations to be seen as such.

“So far I’d say you have about two infantry brigades and one support battalion. It is a start I suppose.”

Aichlan gritted his teeth in concentration as he tried to drown out his father’s commentary. Most of those with them were civilians, though most likely capable of wielding a weapon in the most basic sense, he would not dream of asking them to do so. What he needed was an exact number of how many combatants, but something like that would take time. As it stood, their best option was to deliver the refugees to Vergas, and continue building up their rank structure from there. Nevertheless, some sort of structure should be implemented now if they were to hope to succeed in the future.

“Have you no archers? Mounted units? Do these barbarians you command have any understanding of basic military stratagem or tactics? Or will you allow them to bum rush the enemy as you have been?”

“I had no say in the matter previously…” Aichlan growled under his breath.

“What about me then?” Taryn sang; eager to have rank bestowed upon her as well.

This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.

“You will be the archery battalion commander.” Aichlan replied absently with a dismissive wave of the hand.

“Well an’ good Sirruh,” Taryn crossed her arms over her chest, “but I’m the only archery you have at the moment.”

“Key phrase is at the moment. What of the men you say await you in Port Romance?”

“Got a few bowmen there,” Taryn shrugged, “hunters and sportsmen mostly. The bulk o’ their lot is farmers taken up the scythe and axe of their tool shed to shed the blood of those who trample their livelihood.”

“Then you shall deal in light infantry as well.” Aichlan spat conclusively.

“Ah, our tardy chevalier entertains us with her presence.” Garrick teased.

“Why are you still here?” Aichlan grumbled in response.

“You sent for me, didn’t you?” Maleah snapped as she stretched grandly, exposing more of her supple midriff.

She had abandoned her jacket and armor, running around in little more than a holey black undershirt and tattered half skirt.

“Yes, and I should not have to send your brother after you whenever I give the order to be somewhere.”

“I was disposed of at the moment.” She replied with disinterest, looking off into the horizon.

“So, I’m told; however, catching up on one’s sleep is not what I’d call a valid pretext for your tardiness. I know not what was acceptable by Xanavien standards, but my own you will find have no place for such negligence and outright disrespect. Especially not from its commanding officers. Am I made clear Maleah?”

“Crystal…” the words slid from her tongue coated in disdain and contempt, her jewel like eyes narrowed.

If she were not such a harpy, he might be smitten by her carnal appeal and devil may care approach.

“How many fighting men do you bring?” he asked, choosing to ignore her attitude for now.

“One hundred and twenty men and women loyal to me and the Crown of Sarevon.” She made a point of emphasizing their supposed loyalties.

“Good, I’ll let you retain your previous rank and status. I’ll be attaching your unit to Donough’s along with Taryn’s. When she gets a unit that is.”

“I’d rather be a separate entity or work alongside Séverin, with all due respect General.” She folded her arms over her chest, looking away as she blew at her bangs.

Aichlan chuckled, finding her insubordinates both infuriating and amusing. “This isn’t a matter of me not trusting you; this is a matter of making an efficient and functioning military unit, Captain. If that is an issue I will allow you to go on as a ‘separate entity’ and we will in turn, go our separate ways.”

Silence hung between them momentarily as Maleah tested her new superior’s will and limits of authority.

“…Understood, but I have one last request.” She said begrudgingly.

It was quite apparent to him that this was a woman used to getting her way. Those were the worst kind of women; in his opinion, something Aichlan had learned that the hard way. Blessed with lusty appeal and a voice as silk laced in serpent’s venom, there was nary a man that would not do all that she demanded and more. Though the likelihood of him breaking her were slim to none, especially with her brother coddling her as he did, he could at least stand firm so that she didn’t break him. However, he needn’t be overtly against her at every turn.

“I’m listening.”

“I and Taryn will join another unit under another’s command. I do not feel that the Colby-Nau much care for me and mine…”

Aichlan chewed over her argument, no doubt, she was correct, and the only issue was conceding that fact to her without making it look like a victory. He found himself regularly wondering how a woman such as her obtained captaincy. She either was a brilliant fighter or had somehow managed to slide through the cracks. Though one thing was evident, as she looked at him with those shinning, ruby like eyes, belying savagery unfitting a woman her age, he would not like to personally test his first hypothesis.

“Put her under the Sorn knight.” Garrick said thoughtfully.

“Fiora?” Aichlan said aloud.

“Yes General?” She replied, stepping forward.

“I have faith in this one. She has heart, and that can go a long way.” Garrick said as he rubbed his greying beard in thought.

“Is this my command or yours?” Aichlan retorted with indignation.

“It is yours of course! If I’ve done anythin’ to the contrary it was not my intent my Lord, er, General!” Fiora’s face went deathly pale, she was genuinely horrified at the prospect of having placed herself on a superior’s shit list, especially when she was unaware of any wrongs done.

“Not you Fiora, I was, never mind. You’re in command of Maleah and Taryn’s units until further notice.”

“By the Dawn! My General- I… I can’t lead. I’m just a…” Her face flushed red, a sheen of perspiration formed on her brow, Aichlan truly felt sorry for the poor girl.

“You can’t lead so long as you say you cannot. If you truly are incapable, or incompetent then you shall be reassigned. That is the very worst that can happen, but I strongly doubt such will be the case. As it is your unit is still a work in progress, so that should give you some time to acquaint yourself with the tasks and responsibilities.”

“Yes, my Lord, but who shall be my second in command? I cannot do this alone; of that I am certain…”

“Nor would I expect you to.” Aichlan smiled, attempting to ease her stress at least somewhat.

“Don’t let it be that Alice girl, she needs someone with experience.” Garrick directed.

“I’m no fool…” Aichlan muttered.

“I never said that you were my Lord! I mean, that was not my intent to convey—” The woman looked as if she were about to faint or have an aneurism.

“Not you.” Aichlan shot back, only realizing after the fact that he only exacerbated the issue. “Merely thinking aloud.”

“What about Ransom?” Garrick asked; ignoring the confusion, he was responsible for creating.

“That criminal?”

“But he is a seasoned warrior.” Garrick countered. “He could show her how to stay alive; such is the way of mercenaries and his ilk.”

“He could show ’er a great deal many other things as well, don’t make it right, or smart on my part.”

“I wouldn’t worry about that with her but point taken. Why don’t you take her under your wing till a suitable mentor or support team can be found for her then?”

“Um, my Lord?”

Aichlan’s debate with himself had raised a few concerns.

“Just stick by me for the time being.” He replied curtly.

“I, I understand my lord.” Her head bowed as a chastised child.

Aichlan swore under his breath, it seemed he could not win no matter what he did. He gave her hope with the new authority, and then dashed it upon the rocks in the same breath.

“Is that everyone then? Wait, where’s Ashe?” Aichlan searched the crowd of his newly appointed officers, but could not find her.

It was true she was still upset over his deceit, among many other things, but she had at least started speaking to him again, sometimes. He knew she was more hurt than anything, but he couldn’t afford the luxury of repairing his complicated love life. The world was in the grips of ruin and he was leading a small band of elves and remnants of fallen nations straight to the heart of the darkness. Despite Ashe being his one constant in this, he needed to remain stoic given the task at hand. A task far easier said than done as it were.

“I’m afraid she is resting, she hasn’t felt well, complaints of nausea.” Emarosa said as she joined the group. “And Bishop Lucian wishes an audience with you.”

“No doubt he does, he and his circle of lackeys sent me to my death in Arlien.” He spat and pulled a cigar from his coat. “Tell him to go to hell, I’ll get to him when I so please.”

“I am afraid that will not be sufficient Grand Master Aichlan.”

He looked up to see the fleshy, haggard face of Bishop Lucien and two of his aides. Despite the hardships of those around him, he was still gilded and bejeweled in his silk vestments, his face freshly powdered. Aichlan buried his face in his hands, and groaned loudly. This was the first obstacle he needed to rid himself of, though the last he wanted to deal with. While in Rhode he had been fortunate to avoid the man, now it seems his luck had run out.

“You were not treated in any way unfitting for your crimes Aichlan, now you seem to overextend your ranks grasp into the realm of the clergy. It has come to my attention that you elevated a nun of the Marquez convent…” He snapped his fingers disdainfully, and his youngest aide rushed to attend to his master’s beck and call.

“Clarissa La Roux of Duvachellé, a former captive of the Marquez sex trade.”

“In other words, she was a whore Aichlan. By no means does that make this woman Cardinal material.” The bishop spat.

“Not by choice—” Aichlan began, expecting little by means of logical argument with the man. “And she didn’t actually do any…‘whoring’.”

“That is irrelevant!” Lucien barked as he signaled his aide to continue his report.

“She was accepted into The Order, but was unremarkable and failed to properly perform most basic duties on a regular basis. She did excel in healing, but her lack of knowledge regarding our religion is documented as ‘embarrassing’ by her former convent Mother. She was placed into the personal service of the steward Laelianus after a certain, shall we say scandal.” The young man said self-importantly before being shooed off by his handler.

“And this is the woman you place in charge?” Lucien scoffed. “A whore with no understanding of even the basics of our cause, our creed? Our religion? It is absurd! But what is even more absurd is the fact that you have the audacity to assume you can do such a thing and have it stick.”

“We need healers now Bishop, not sermons. She has proved herself time and again. She saved your life if I recall.” Aichlan replied cheekily, taking joy in Lucien’s irritation.

“Cute, I see you’ve retained your insolence.” Lucien narrowed his eyes as he raised his chins to look down his nose at Aichlan.

“And you your arrogance and greed. Clarissa shall remain as Cardinal until the Priestess Renata or another higher rank than I choose to remove her.” Aichlan said definitively as he stood, glaring into Lucien’s eyes.

“…So be it Aichlan. If that is the game you wish to play, then—”

“No game Bishop, now if you’ll excuse me, I have an army to address.”

Lucien gave Aichlan a look filled with contempt and hatred before leaving in a flurry of silken robes and dangling jewelry. Aichlan pinched the bridge of his nose and massaged gently, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“I told you once before, you will wear the mantle of General one day, now you deal with all the politics that come with such a position.” Garrick teased. “I almost thought you’d gotten off easy.”

“You can take it back anytime.” Aichlan snarled, the beginning of a headache made its self-known to him.

“Ye ready fer this?” Eth ambled over to Aichlan, no enthusiasm left in his voice.

The mass of elves and clerics had been reorganized into some semblance of a formation with the commanders at the head of their respective units, awaiting further instruction. The skies were still darkened by the mountain that had finally ceased its belching of fire, only to replace it with a final dying breath of ash and smoke.

“Light be damned…” Aichlan swore as he went to his obligation.