A more mundane viewer also saw Varsus and his companions as they walked through the camps.

Baroness Elsa O’Lear watched with narrowed eyes at the trio, especially the woman with them. She watched them and their retinue pick their way through the mud and the masses of bodies doing the business of keeping the camps running.

Elsa was a tall woman, so she looked easily over the heads of the guards and servants near her. She saw the direction they were heading and concluded that they were going to Fat Earl Mondrake’s camp.

Scowling, she took a few steps, meaning to head after the trio, but a voice called out to her.

“Baroness! To where to do you mean to go, my lady?” the voice sounded near hysterical.

Elsa turned, knowing who she would find, and highly annoyed by that knowledge.

Master Steward Tristan stood by the opening to Elsa’s tent. She knew he had been waiting for her to come in so he could badger her about some inane minutiae that no one with any sense would care about.

“Master Steward, I will be back shortly,” Elsa said, as she spun around to leave. Her voice was clipped, just short of snapping at Tristan. The thin, middle-age man was exceptional at all tasks requiring organization and structure, so she had brought him along to help move her forces when the Banners had been called.

However, he was also exceptionally annoying and condescending. As a civilian, he had no more business being here than, well than Avalaine did, but he had proven himself useful as always.

“My lady, will you walk off into the night with no guards?” Tristan called after her.

Elsa snorted in response, though she knew she was far enough away that he couldn’t have heard it. This being her own camp, the people recognized her in her dark blue dress with gold trim. She had her cloak on against the cold, but her long, wavy red hair could be clearly seen.

In her own camp, harm was unlikely to befall her, and as a Baroness, other camps would show her at least basic courtesy, if not offer her genuine welcome.

She was tall and athletically muscled. The dagger strapped to her belt inside her cloak reassured Elsa. Anyone who tried anything would find out what she was capable of.

Growing up, she had fought with, and been required to hunt and fish along with her brothers. And rightly so, as she was better than most of them.

As she walked, four of her men ran to catch up with her and fell in step slightly behind her. She was always darting off somewhere and leaving them flat footed.

Elsa knew it was because she was used to doing things on her own. Despite her title, she had not grown accustomed to waiting around for others to do something she could certainly do herself.

She stalked across her camp, personal guard in tow. As she did so, she thought of the many nights when her family would not have eaten if not for her skills. One could hardly grow soft and flabby when they had to run down game or haul in fish in order to eat every other day.

You couldn’t be soft and carefree like Avalaine of Teyscha if you had grown up as she did. You had to toughen up, both inside and out, or else be run over by this life.

Elsa was aware she did not possess a lithe, girlish figure like Avalaine. It bothered her, but there was nothing to be done. She had always been self-conscious of being larger than most other women. Her husband, the late Baron Liam O’Lear of Inessa, the province she now ruled, had called her ‘divinely statuesque’ one evening when he had come to her bedchambers.

She remembered how she had almost punched him in the jaw, and had barely stopped herself when she realized it was a compliment in his eyes.

Liam had saved her from a life of hardship, and she missed him daily.

He had noticed her at one of the many festivals he provided for the people. She had won the axe throwing contest and nearly won the archery competition.

She had entered the contests to attract attention from passing nobles and wealthy merchants, hoping the same thing as many other young girls, to find someone to make things a little easier.

Being tall, shapely and athletic were traits she used to her advantage. That last winter, when she had been sixteen, had been the most difficult and desperate her family had ever faced. Both her parents had died, and her youngest brother had passed from what they had thought a common flux.

Yet she still had family left. She had an older brother, Tun, and two younger brothers, Rik and Mark, and none of those boys had the smarts of a chipmunk.

Left to their own devices, they would have starved to death within a month the following winter, and she would be damned if they would go through that again.

To that end, she decided there was only one way to get what they needed. She endeavored to be noticed by those of higher station.

At first she simply became a visual battery of lips, hair, legs, breasts and behind, making sure she, and much of her flesh, could be seen at local establishments frequented by out-of-town nobles.

However, though she was red-haired, pale of skin, beautiful, curvaceous and very well-endowed in some areas… other girls were just as beautiful, if not more, in their own way.

Elsa came into constant competition with these “other girls” who were just as hungry as she was to raise their station and change their lot in life.

She soon found she could not compete with the refinement of many of the young women around Inessa, so she leaned into her strengths. She would be known for all the things she could do that were usually left to men.

It worked. Far better than she had expected.

After she had won the axe-throwing contest, a wine merchant from Royal Maera began showering her with attention. The man was flabby and old, but Elsa only cared what his coin looked like. If she could feed her family, it would all be worth it.

He took her to the Royal Inessa, easily the finest inn and tavern in the whole province. Elsa had waited tables there a year earlier, but after the other girls tried to steal her tips one night, a brawl ensued, and property damage was extensive.

Finnel, the owner, blamed Elsa. He not only fired, but banned her from the tavern, too. Elsa had no problem with this, as she could not afford to eat there, anyway.

The tavern owner had also tried to bed her several times during her short time of employment. She had rebuffed him as gently as possible, but the last time, he had finally had enough. That night the other girls had jumped her, and she had been banished from the tavern.

But now the old merchant wanted to go there, and there had been no dissuading him.

She told the merchant of her past trouble, and he waved it away, saying it would not be a problem.

He was right. When they arrived, the merchant started throwing his money around, buying drinks and food for others, then placing bets on some of the local events.

When Finnel came over and informed the merchant that Elsa was not welcome in his establishment, the merchant had become belligerent, demanding to know who Finnel was to tell him what company he could keep.

Finnel backed away as he apologized, bowing low and giving Elsa a look of icy hatred. Elsa smiled widely, giving the tavern owner her own look to let him know she had won.

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The old merchant was giddy after humiliating Finnel, and after that he had pulled her onto his lap and his hands had been all over her, working their way inside her gray riding dress, squeezing and touching her everywhere.

Not only did she allow this, but she’d been laughing and smiling as he did so. She let him do it because he was the best of the lot who had shown interest in her after her axe-throwing performance that day. Also, the thought of her brothers going hungry was enough motivation for her to endure almost anything.

Some of the very same girls who had attacked her a year earlier were still serving. Elsa enjoyed their jealous glares. Even though they could see the old man pawing at her body, she knew the other girls would gladly trade places with her if it meant they could land a man of his wealth and status.

However, she soon discovered that she had caught the attention of someone even better than the merchant.

Guards from the Baron’s household burst into the tavern, throwing people aside to get to her. They dragged her away from the fat old wine merchant, who could only blubber and pout as they snatched his prize.

The guards had practically tossed her into a carriage. She was told, with little fanfare, that she was to be delivered to the keep of Baron Liam O’Lear in the dead of night.

Elsa had guessed she was to be bedded or otherwise used that night and then discarded. The Baron’s wife died several years earlier, surprising many that he hadn’t taken another wife since then.

She remembered hoping that she could get him to spill his seed in her.

If it would result in a child, perhaps he would pay her to keep silent? Pay to send her far away from Inessa? Keep her and her family on the grounds of his estate in secret?

Never could she have imagined what was to happen that night.

He was kind to her.

The gate allowed the carriage through with no resistance when it arrived at the Baron’s estate.

The guards said nothing to her, nor to each other. They helped her down from the carriage and then hastily ushered her into the large stone keep from which the Baron ruled Inessa.

They walked her in so fast she barely had a chance to appreciate the beauty of the grounds. Before she knew it, the heavy wooden doors of the main entrance had closed loudly behind her.

Two guards escorted her through several large, opulent rooms. Elsa had expected to be led upstairs to a master bedroom, but her journey ended in a darkened room lit only by an enormous fireplace and minimal candlelight.

Without a word, the guards marched her to stand in front of the fireplace, then turned and stalked briskly out the way they came.

Elsa, warming herself by the fire, was now alone in a mostly dark room owned by the most powerful noble in the region.

Or at least she had thought she was alone. As she was adjusting the front of her dress to show even more of her already mostly exposed breasts, she heard a voice.

“Please, my lady, do not be afraid,” said a warm, friendly sounding voice.

Elsa spun quickly, ready to defend herself if need be.

It was unnecessary. She saw a man sitting on one of the large couches facing the fireplace. It was so large, and the light so low, she had not seen him sitting in it when they passed.

Elsa looked at the man she assumed to be the Baron. She stepped forward, squinting a bit.

Baron Liam O’Lear was indeed an older man, but nowhere near as old as the wine merchant she had been with earlier in the evening. His thick brown hair was fully gray at the temples and his short-trimmed beard was almost completely gray.

Elsa had never been this close to him before. She had seen the man for years from afar, but never expected to be in the same room as him, let alone the same room in his own home.

The Baron stood. Elsa could see the gold and white of his formal doublet glittering in the firelight.

The man was tall. Even taller than her, as she found herself looking up at him when he walked closer. His black leather knee-high boots squelched as he moved. Besides the crackling fire, it was the only sound in the room.

She tensed. Everyone had heard tales of depraved nobles, and Elsa swore she would not just disappear one night, never to be heard from again. If the man tried anything violent, he would have a fight on his hands.

“What is your name, my lady?” asked the Baron. He had come within an arm’s length of her, then stopped.

His face seemed friendly to Elsa, so she began to relax.

“I’m not a Lady,” she said, with a bit of challenge to her voice.

The Baron’s face lit up in a grin.

“No, I suppose not. Not with the way you throw an axe. I found it very impressive,” he said, still smiling.

Elsa didn’t know what to say, and the two simply looked at one another. The only sound was the crackling of the fire. Finally, after a long, uncomfortable silence, she started sliding down the shoulder of her dress.

The Baron stepped forward and put his hand over her own, stopping the dress from sliding down any further.

Then he pulled the dress back up and stepped away.

“Would you mind if we just… talked… for a while?” he asked, looking down at her, directly into her eyes.

“You’re asking me?” Elsa blurted out, incredulous.

The Baron laughed, then took her hand and led her to the large couch he had just been resting on.

“Yes, I find I would like to know more about you…” he said.

He had not been lying. Elsa both loved and hated thinking about Liam. There had been good times, but now that he was gone, they were painful to remember.

And besides, now was not the time. Something besides the blatantly obvious was going on here at the dog’s-ass end of the Kingdom, and whatever it was could be the key to solidifying her precarious position back in Inessa.

And even if it wasn’t, she would make sure that if Avalaine was involved in it, she would be too. That spoiled brat of a Lady from Teyscha always got something for nothing, and Elsa declared to herself that she was going to get some of whatever it was for herself.

Elsa and her guards arrived at the camp of the Earl of Kaston.

Kaston was a very wealthy province, and they had quite a show of guards lining the border their camp shared with Inessa.

Elsa’s eyes narrowed. She counted over twenty guards. They did not move aside as she approached.

Annoyed, she opened her mouth to speak, but one of her guards stepped in front of her.

“Stand aside!” the guard demanded, speaking directly to one of the Kaston province guards.

The Kaston guard regiment did not move or speak. They looked bored, but did not react to Elsa’s guard. They all simply stood in their green and gray livery and said nothing.

He spoke again.

“Are you deaf!? I said stand aside, the Baroness O’Lear will pass through here!”

That triggered a reaction from the Kaston guards.

“Baroness?!” one guard barked in derision. “I see only a jumped-up commoner here.”

All four of her guards stepped in front of her then, and Elsa sighed. What the guard had said was a sentiment even her own people shared. They just would not stand for it from outsiders.

“Stand down,” she said, her voice cracking through the night air like a whip.

Waving her own guards back, she stepped up to the Kaston guard who had spoken. She could tell he was young and full of bluster, barely a man and thinking he was important in his guardsman livery.

She knew how to deal with his type. In a flash, Elsa drew her dagger from beneath her cloak and brandished it.

“You can either let us pass, or you and I will address your insult by duel right now.”

“Wh-what!?” said the guard, his confidence now shaken. “I cannot duel a Lady!”

Elsa smiled. “Oh, so now I am a Lady? I thought I was a jumped-up commoner? Shall we duel, then?”

The guard looked to his fellows, but none of them would catch his eye. He was on his own, and in a lose-lose situation. They all knew perfectly well that she was the legitimate Baroness and ruler of Inessa, and if he should fight her and harm her, his punishment could be death by hanging.

However, if he were to fight her and lose… the blow to his dignity might be a fate worse than death.

Elsa watched many emotions play out on the young guard’s face until he finally chose the least problematic option: simply standing aside to let her pass.

He did so without speaking, and Elsa marked the hateful glower on the guard’s face as they passed through into the Kaston camp.

I’d best be aware of that one while I’m in his domain, she thought. Accidents have been known to happen.

She had lost track of Avalaine and her companions, but she and her guards headed for the center of the camp, knowing she would find Fat Earl Mondrake there, along with his usual wagon-loads of food.

The Earl’s tent was even larger and more elaborate than she had expected. Elsa shook her head in disbelief and amused disgust.

As she approached, she guessed she could line up at least twenty horses end to end in the Earl’s tent. There were many guards stationed around the perimeter, and Elsa saw a contingent of what she assumed were the Earl’s personal chefs carrying pans and cooking equipment into the tent.

That man requires a feast for every meal, she thought, again shaking her head.

She and her retinue approached the guards at the tent entrance. She saw guardsmen from Varsus and Orel, and knew that Baron Varsus, Viscount Brandu, and of course Avalaine of Teyscha would already be inside.

The Kaston guards watched her dispassionately as she neared. If these men had any personal animosity or disdain for her, they did not show it.

Again, one of Elsa’s guardsmen stepped in front of her.

“The Baroness O’Lear of Inessa to see the Earl,” he said, and Elsa could tell he was bracing for more trouble.

But there was none. The Kaston guard told them to wait, then turned and ducked into the tent.

Almost immediately, someone inside roared with laughter.

The guard quickly reappeared.

“You have leave to enter, my Lady,” he said and gave a quick nodding of his head in deference, stretching out his arm to pull back the tent flap to allow her entry.

For a brief moment, Elsa felt a wave a nausea come over her. She also felt a chill, and she shuddered. She caught a look from the Kaston guard that told her he had just felt the same thing.

Then she immediately felt better, so she tried to put it out of her mind. The guard was still holding the tent flap open.

She steeled herself and walked in.

***

Before Elsa could walk into the Earl’s tent, IT brushed past her and the guardsmen, entering the tent unseen but not unfelt.

In this place, there was heightened emotion, and even though it was not completely safe yet, it found itself unable to leave, as it had become amused by these inferior creatures and their pitiable hopes and dreams.

This latest mortal cow was a whirlwind of ambition, anger, and fear. She would definitely prove useful.

The thing relaxed, its presence unobservable to humans, and waited to hear what these mortal fools had to say.