Chapter 293

Red Sands Desert, Principality of Rebirth

Alesian Fortress Line

The silence was...eerie. Almost a hundred and fifteen thousand soldiers stood in the desert, arrayed in perfect ranks, and yet there was no sound save for flags flapping in the wind.

Almost half of those soldiers were golems, identical to perfection. The rest wore a variety of armor, weapons and heraldry. From the Ducal Guard of Sarth to the Villeburg militia, they all stood there, knights shoulder to shoulder with volunteer peasants.

But today all stood below the flags of the Kingdom and the crown's heraldry.

At the end of their formation stood a shaded dais. In it was the Royal Magistrate of Darthar, knight-commander Philia Elcanor of the Royal Knights, plus half a dozen royal officials.

And behind them stood the duke of Sarth.

Allya slowly made her way down the avenue, flanked by entire battalions of troops on either side, trailed by her fiancée and a handful of her own dignitaries and bodyguards, including Alexandra's ambassador.

Before long, she arrived in front of the dais, and the Royal Magistrate walked down to meet her, drawing some gasps from the knights. That...was a significant gesture.

Their majesties, or their stand-ins, didn't go off of their thrones to meet you, you went to meet them.

Allya knelt, and so did her entire delegation, with the exception of Alexandra, though she did bow in respect.

"Baroness Allya Aubétoile, ruler of the Principality of Rebirth." Said the Magistrate, his voice reverberating over the assembled troops through arcane means. "Their majesties thank you for honoring their summons."

"I live to serve, magistrate." Answered Allya, her voice equally projected.

"So you have, and so you do." The Magistrate paused. "Over the last few months, the realm has faced many catastrophies, and Rebirth has borne more than any other. Yet you have risen to the challenge, time and time again, above and beyond all expectations, and beyond even the call of duty." The Magistrate took a step forward, and put his hand on Allya's shoulder. "Baroness Allya Aubétoile, you are called upon to serve. Will you answer?"

"I do."

"Then by the will of their majesties, you are elevated. The frontier Principality of Rebirth is no longer. I hereby proclaim the archduchy of Rebirth, and the creation of a new noble house. What shall it be named, Allya Aubétoile?"

"My house shall be known as Nouvelle-Aurore, to signify a new era for our people."

"Then rise, Allya Nouvelle-Aurore, Archduchess of Rebirth!"

Allya rose, and her entourage followed suit a second afterwards.

Philia slammed the haft of her spear into the dais.

"All hail Allya Nouvelle-Aurore, Archduchess of Rebirth!"

"ALL HAIL!" Shouted a hundred thousand throats, mechanical and biological alike, shaking the very ground.

Allya looked up as the Magistrate stepped aside, and the duke of Sarth came down the dais. He knelt before her.

"I, Manson Estogan, of house Estogan, duke of Sarth and bulwark against the wasteland, swear fealty to Archduchess Allya Nouvelle-Aurore, and before all present, swear my domains into vasselage to the Archduchy of Rebirth, now and forevermore. I offer you my sword, my loyalty and my armies."

Allya spoke up.

"And I, Allya Nouvelle-Aurore, of house Nouvelle-Aurore, Archduchess of Rebirth, accept your oath. I extend protection against all enemies, justice against all wrongdoers, loyalty for fealty, and promise utter annihilation for oath-breaking."

The final part was a slight departure from the traditional oath. But it wasn't meant for the duke.

It was a message to Sunrise, from their majesties and Allya alike.

The archduchess extended her hand, and the duke kissed it.

"Rise, my vassal." Said Allya, and the duke rose.

She turned around, facing the assembled armies.

"Today is the dawn of a new age. We live in uncertain times, and we have been beaten and bloodied, yet here we stand! We have weathered storm after storm, turned back armies, turned foes into allies and held on against the fury of the Old World! We stand here, unbowed, against whatever the world may throw at us! And when the dust settles, only we will remain! Long live their majesties! Long live the realm! And death to all traitors!"

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"Long live their majesties! Long live the realm! DEATH TO SUNRISE!" Shouted the entire army.

Allya smiled.

"Prepare to move out! We march North! To Asaria!"

"TO ASARIA!"

*****

Satina Olyrin, head of the house of Olyrin and by the grace of the Gods duchess of Sunrise, looked at the dispatch.

"From one disaster to the next." She whispered.

The spymaster nodded.

"So it would seem." Their hope had been that the duke of Sarth would react against Rebirth's rise, seek to curtail it.

Instead, the opposite had happened. Opportunistic, spineless bastard.

"They will be coming North. We must prepare for their arrival."

"What about the Southern Army, milady?"

The duchess smiled, and the spymaster shivered as he saw it. It was not a pretty smile, to say the least.

"Our dear Brigadier has taken the...tactical decision to move to Kaidan instead of North. He will pay for that, in time, but I highly doubt the Archduchess...no, let's face it, the dungeon core that's puppeteering that cunt, will waste her time on such a useless, spineless piece of shit. Especially not when his entire army is running like a whipped dog."

"Do you..." The spymaster coughed. This was...a delicate question to ask, but it must be asked. "Do you believe we'll be victorious?"

"The Southern Army was already depleted when it fought her, while we have been able to acquire new soldiers from the capital and the surrounding settlements. And we were already far more numerous to begin with. Besides which..." The duchess' smile turned vicious. "We're not fighting her alone, aren't we?"

"The UDC-"

"Will get their heads out of their asses once the dungeon core marches to change the fate of whole realms. There's no justification for this, and they know it."

"Gargor has fallen."

"Killed by her flunkies and co-conspirators, no doubt."

The spymaster frowned internally. He...wasn't so sure.

The isolationists within the UDC had accused the interventionists of the assassination, but few among the dungeons, at least those not wedded to the isolationist cause, believed it. After all, as many pointed out, when was the last time the interventionists had done something underhanded like that? They did loud, spectacular gestures, following their messiah's example. Crystal didn't use spies or assassins, if she wanted you dead she'd knock down your door, paint the walls with your entrails and drag your body out and impale it for all to see. That didn't mean she couldn't be pragmatic when necessary, like how she had gotten the fortresses to surrender to remove the impediment to her march North, but still. No one could see what she had done to Amelia Loveheart's army, or hell, to the Southern Army at Darthar, and accuse her of being subtle, let alone underhanded.

Besides which, killing another dungeon core was anathema to the interventionists. They were doing this madness to protect themselves and their fellows, not eliminate them.

"No doubt." He said. "But what of the siege?"

The duchess grimace.

"The second layer of walls holds on still. We will take it, but..." She shrugged, angrily, and the spymaster kept his peace.

They had counted on many nobles joining their cause once the capital was besieged, but most had chosen to remain neutral, with the dungeon core turning back the army of the Republic.

And now...now, with the proclamation of the new Archduchy and the submission of Sarth, as well as the liberation of Darthar, these very neutrals were turning against them. They smelled victory, and did not wish to be left aside when it came time to carve the rebel territories out and divide the spoils. Those in the south were basically falling all over themselves to try and gain favor with the new archduchess. They knew her domain would most likely encompass Kaidan, maybe even Lorenz, and they were desperate to be seen as allies, to be able to take the territory of their destroyed or rebellious neighbours, and not be seen as traitors to be annihilated by the marching armies.

The only thing holding their conquered territories together was the slave garrisons, but that meant more and more troops were being sunk into keeping control of what they had, instead of being brought to Asaria to augment the ranks of the main army.

"And what of the renegade mages?"

The duchess huffed.

"Those that gave us the brands? They ran off as soon as things started going sideways. Not that it will save them. Thanks to you, we know who they belonged to. How long, I wonder, will the peace between the crown and the Saphire Kingdom last, if it came to light the council of archmages, who rules in all but name, made the brands for us?"

The spymaster nodded. That was their ace in the hole. If need be...they could release the information. Force the hand of the Saphire Kingdom in joining them, or at least fight the loyalists.

"It will be war." He said.

"I certainly hope so." The duchess leaned back into her chair. "But as you had tried to prod oh so carefully, the problem remains of the siege. A battle on two fronts would be catastrophic. And we cannot send reinforcements. Our troops hesitate, our officers and nobles are starting to question if they have bet on the right horse, holding back the assaults. So there is a simple solution, really."

"Milady?"

"I'll head there myself. Whip some spine into them if I have to."

"Milady, with all due respect-"

The duchess made a throwaway gesture.

"Oh, worry not, I won't attempt to take command. I know my limitations. I'm no military officer, the ways of tactics are foreign to me."

The spymaster licked his lips.

"If you go there, you will expose yourself milady. Every loyalist dreams of your head. And their assassins need only get lucky once."

"It is time to stop hiding. Besides which they will try here as well."

"Your ancestral home is easier to secure than a military camp."

"True enough. Very well then. You'll have a new challenge I suppose."

"Milady?"

"You'll be coming with me my dear. Let's see if you can keep me alive against the machinations of our enemies."

"And if I can't?"

"I'd advise a fast horse." The duchess smiled. "But it won't come to that. Pack your bags. Or better yet, I will send some of my maids to help you."

The spymaster shivered internally. He wasn't sure he wanted any of her 'maids' to be near his home. Some of the things he'd seen here...still haunted him.

And he hadn't become a spymaster by keeping his hands clean.

"As you wish, milady."

"Good. Then you are dismissed."

The spymaster nodded, bowed, and left the room.

He would be done packing long before the maids arrived, that he knew. The shorter they were at his home, the better.

*****

"One would think they would get tired of the celebrations." Said Wonsnot as he looked at Darthar, the streets once again crowded by revellers.

Rook shook his head, standing on the edge of the flat roof of a house utterly unremarkable. So unremarkable in fact, that only something very deliberate could have ridden it of all quirks.

"People rarely do, as long as they are the ones doing the celebrating." He looked to the side, at his friend. Outwardly, they both looked like adventurers, both in their attire and through powerful technological and arcane illusions. "Any news?"

"Our agents reported in. The duchess is packing."

"She's not abandonning ship."

"No. She's going somewhere else."

"There's only one destination. Asaria. She heard that our archduchess is marching North."

"Heard? That noble proclaimed her intention over every possible rooftop!"

"I am aware. But Satina feels her armies faltering, and fears her Northern commanders will take a page out of the Brigadier's book. She is rushing there to keep them in line."

"Should we..."

"No. We have greater purposes than a single noble. Especially not one that will quickly be replaced. It was already a great risk to reveal ourselves to Allya and her knight."

"And her dungeon core."

"I wouldn't call Crystal as belonging to anybody. Not to her face at any rate. But yes, and her dungeon core. I...severely underestimated her."

"She's dangerous. Very dangerous."

"I hope so." Rook smiled as Wonsnot gave him a sidelong glance. "She hates slavery only slightly less than Allya does. And as bloodthirsty as I believed her to be, she seemed to have mellowed. The fortresses are proof of that."

"Those bastards should have been peeled and their hides should be hanging from the battlements."

"I don't disagree. However, I would have wept for the many slaves that would have died to make it happen. She chose life over death. So did I, when I founded New Raleigh. You remember."

Wonsnot nodded. The fall of the Orlov Empire...

Rook had saved them. All of them. The Seven, the slaves...even the nascent Eris Empire. He could have chosen to continue the slaughter, to plunge the world further into darkness.

But after the fall of the capital and the death of the emperor at his hands, he had instead chosen peace. Taken those who would follow him and founded a haven for them, and others that would join them.

"I do."

Rook gestured at the city.

"Then let us raise a glass with those below. Not to those who have fallen under the avenging blade, but those spared eternal oblivion."

"Aye. I'll drink to that."

"Good man. Come, we will worry about the shipments tomorrow. The twins will manage without our oversight for a night."