Chapter 273

Red Sands Desert, Duchy of Sarth

Deep Desert

The attitude in the tent wasn't 'gloomy'. That would imply a spark of light, of hope.

The people in it had been too thoroughly defeated to have that luxury.

"What if the duchess-" Started one of the aides, and the brigadier, who had inherited command of Sunrise's Southern Army of Restoration, slammed his cup onto the table, cutting him short.

"The duchess…will not do anything." His tone was bitter, filled with hatred, and a shiver passed through the room. The Brigadier sighed. "Not that she is incorrect in doing so. Lifting the siege of Asaria…would be catastrophic."

Everyone nodded.

"May she dispatch reinforcements?" Proposed one of his captains, one of the officers that had supported him during his little quasi coup.

"No. She won't. With the dungeon core's army marching through the wasteland, splitting her force would only invite defeat in detail. Not that they would make it to us in time anyway."

Everyone shifted uneasily, but they couldn't fault his reasoning.

No one was sure why the dungeon core had suddenly decided to brave the wasteland with her army, but they could guess.

Some 'ally' the Republic had proven to be, in the Brigadier's opinion. Incompetent fucks had let their army off the leash, and it had promptly turned over everything the dungeon needed.

Many of his people would also criticize their use of people of no blood to command, but he couldn't. The Republic would have imploded had they tried to put the scions of the senate in command once again. Though he supposed they'd only delayed the inevitable.

Besides which…the commoner left commanding the fortresses that had once shielded Darthar, the very ones he was now running to in the vain hope they might slow down the vengeful host sure to follow, he had made him and the duke pay for every centimeter in blood. No one could see someone fight this valiantly and look down upon them. It was why he'd insisted that every. Single. One of the fortress' defenders be given a burial worthy of warriors of their caliber. He'd also recorded each burial spot with minute detail, and stored it in his personal chest. If he were to be defeated, they would be found.

"Should we use the fortresses as a sacrificial rear guard then?" Said the captain, and the Brigadier nodded.

"We'll have to."

It would buy them time.

Maybe even enough time.

But he doubted that. Golems need not sleep, drink or eat. They did not grow tired, they didn't need vast supply trains…

The dungeon core would catch up.

If they ran towards Asaria, towards the capital. He knew the duchess was going to use them as her own sacrificial rearguard. Traitorous bitch. It was the right move, but that didn't mean it wasn't abandoning them to the wolves anyway.

That was…unless they went east, instead of north.

Cross back into the devastated lands of the duchy of Kaidan. It was more or less reduced to ruins, but there would still be enough to rebuild the army. Get out of the dungeon core's way.

The duchess would know exactly what he was doing. But the dungeon core had oh-so-obligingly decapitated the command structure in the southern army, and he had filled the holes with people loyal to him, and him alone, then used his newfound authority and state of emergency with their defeat at Darthar to sideline or…volunteer for frontline command anyone who would raise a stink.

Those 'frontline commanders' had been inside the city when the dungeon core had crashed her ship into the breach. They would be troubling him no more.

So the duchess could bitch and curse him all she wished in private, but he would have the only true force in a thousand kilometers that didn't belong to the enemy. If she declared him a traitor he would simply rebel against her. So instead she would praise him, or drop heavy hints, but do everything to maintain a facade of cohesion.

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Because if that crumbled, so would the duchy's entire rebellion. As much as the duchess liked to think herself as supreme leader and her duchy as the center of all efforts, they were a coalition, of slave domains, corporations and nobles disaffected with the crown, or saw their economic doom coming with the widespread use of golems.

The momentum was already no longer on their side. A major defection would cause the entire cause to implode.

The Brigadier was under no illusion that their rebellion was feasible. The duchess and her lackeys might be, but he had seen the dungeon's might with his own eyes. He'd watched a few hundred golems holding a thousand times their numbers from atop a wrecked airship, assaulted on both sides.

If so few could do this much, he did not wish to be there when the tens of thousands that had reportedly marched out of Rebirth arrived.

Once he had retreated, and consolidated control of the territories, he would be in position to negotiate from strength. Or at least, not be whimpering for mercy.

He was sure he could make an offer. The dungeon was trying to preserve the slaves, that much he was sure of. What little remained of his spies in Darthar had told him.

If he had enough territory, enough place to harvest if it came down to a full scale battle…he may argue for keeping his titles and lands. Maybe even pardons for most of his officers.

Not slavery, but at this point he'd gladly get all the slaves out of his domain and exchange them for golems. At least if the golems turned against him he would die quickly.

He had no intention of seeing if the slaves would replicate New Raleigh's pillars of torment.

"My lord?"

The Brigadier looked up as he realized he had fallen silent for a while.

"Apologies. Too little rest, my mind is starting to drift." Everyone nodded. All had circles under their eyes, and they were positively well rested compared to the slaves. Several days on merciless force march would do that to anyone. They would have to stop soon too, or risk losing many. One of problems of a slave army, they weren't trained, and didn't have close to the endurance of true soldiers. Even the brands could not push them beyond their physical limits. "Let us adjourn. But do gather up ideas on what we could do once at the fortresses to make the enemy's pursuit more…interesting."

There were a few faintly wolfish smiles. Not many, but…it was something.

The southern army wasn't completely beaten yet.

*****

"Count, it's a pleasure." Said Allya as she was ushered into the same salon she had been reassuring him that, no, Alexandra wasn't out to kill him.

It seemed like a week ago, but it had only been a day.

"Please, lady Allya, call me Rice. I believe we are this acquainted at least."

"Very well...count Rice."

The count smiled, chuckling.

"This is as good as I can hope yet, isn't it? Very well. Please, could you follow me? Duke Estogan wishes to speak to you. I have been told he has an answer for your...propositions."

Allya nodded. At last.

Time to see if Darthar would be hers by money...or blood.

It was a short walk, but an interesting one. They headed deeper into the more 'intimate' parts of the palace, where the ostentatiousness faded, replaced by a more homely feel. This wasn't where the count brought guests to impress them, it was where he worked.

The guards also drew sparser, and more deadly. Gone were the ceremonial tridents and halberds, replaced with swords, muskets and pistols.

Allya noted with a twinge of amusement the firearms were from Alexandra's dungeon.

"So, how has the city acclimated to the newfound peace? Now that the parties are dying down, I mean." Asked the baroness.

"Peace is relative, and commerce is not yet restored. Not to the kingdom anyway, though many have already started trading with the Republic, and your Principality of course, in anticipation of the trade routes reopening."

"The Republic?"

"They still retain control of most of their territories, for now at least. Business is business and all that. I believe you yourself kept up trade even at the height of the war with them, did you not?"

"I did. I'm not blaming you, just wondering why not the New Republic."

"They have little to offer. Yet. That will probably change soon." They came to a stop before a door, but rather than open it, the count turned towards her. "I also wished to thank you, before we went to meet with the duke."

"You've already thanked me enough."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. This is for something you did before your ally's intervention. The mercenaries you sent me."

Allya blinked, the nodded.

"The Scarlet Swords?"

"Yes. I understand they caused you quite a bit of trouble, before redeeming themselves, yes?" Allya nodded once more. "Well, they were singularly helpful during this debacle. In fact had they not been present we might not have held the line, let alone pushed back, when Sunrise's forces poured into the city, even after lady Crystal's, and CQ's, rather heroic intervention."

"Interesting. I take it you are not telling me this as pure banter?"

"No, of course not."

There was a slight pause, and Allya grimaced.

"You're telling me this because you plan on hiring them. Permanently."

The count nodded.

"I am. The city guard has been decimated. My household troops fare little better. I need a strong, experienced cadre to train up the next generation of this city's defenders, and serve as guides and commanders to the golems the dungeons will offer us."

"Uh huh. Well, as you said, they did redeem themselves. However, my edict still stands: they will not return to Rebirth. Not for a year."

"That was the problem. If Darthar becomes part of your Principality."

"Ah." Allya chuckled. "I meant the city itself, not my whole domain. As long as they stay out of sight and out of mind of the people they almost slaughtered, it will be alright."

"Good."

"Though, I would recommend not using them on the docks. I know some of my air crews and people have an axe to grind."

"I have deployed them to guard the Great Bazaar. They are not good thief catchers, but they are intimidating, and people trust them."

"Good enough. And ah, the bazaar…it's been a while since I've been there."

"You should partake. Though you will have to do some convincing so people do not give you their wares for free."

"Ah! Probably. Now, the conversation with the duke?"

"Quite, my apologies." The Count opened the door, and they stepped into a study. A study with a magical mirror.

"Fancy."

"I do not use it often, but it comes in handy more often than people think."

"Will the duke be joining us via mirror? I thought he was on the move with his army?"

"He is, but he has a mobile mirror."

Allya whistled softly.

"Those are…rare."

"It was a gift, from the council of archmages of the Saphire Kingdom." He smiled at Allya's confused expression. "The duchy of Sarth is the only one of the crown duchies to maintain cordial relations with our old overlord. The duke that oversaw our independence was merciful to the royal troops he captured, and our mercantile endeavors -as well as control of the trade route itself- and distance to the frontier have given many reasons for detente rather than continued animosity. It is hard to keep hating someone without the opportunity to add fuel onto the fire, after all."

"Point taken. Still, not something I expected him to possess."

"Sarth is a duchy of many…not secrets, but surprises. We are often overlooked in the politics of the kingdom, compared to Sunrise, but we are one of the four founding duchies of the Kingdom, with Asaria and those dogs of Sunrise and Lorenz."

"Musn't that have been an easy alliance to create…"

"Truth be told, the Kingdom started as an alliance of circumstance. Survival against the onslaught of the Saphire Kingdom and its retribution demanded no less. Were it not for our old overlord and their zealousness in retaking what was lost, no doubt the Kingdom would have never formed in the first place. As it was, everyone signed on. Marriages and other dynastic alliances kept the kingdom stable for the first few centuries, but…"

"Eventually, someone from another duchy tried to press their claim to the throne."

"Quite."

"So, when do we start?"

"Now, if you will?"

"Sure. Let's be about it."