Chapter 7

The stench of burned flesh stung at Winter's nose as she and her group emerged from the small forest of trees the dirt road had taken them through. The scene that opened up before their eyes would have been serene, flowing fields of golden wheat rushing over low rolling hills had turned into a blackened, smoldering vision of destruction. The fires had died, but heat still boiled out of the darkened earth. Surveying the landscape she was shocked. The destruction only reached until the forest boundary, and in the distance she could tell that the town itself had not gone up in flames. “Strange...” she uttered.

“Magefire,” responded Heldrin nodding to himself as he contemplated the scenery. “There was definitely a battle here,” he said, a strange tone to his voice.

Winter grunted, “those black heaps over there,” she pointed, “it looks like they never even made it close to the town.” She noticed Clarissa move to cling onto Lox, and immediately regretted pointing it out. Lox patted his sister's head, then held her by the shoulder as the small group continued to walk along in silence.

After what seemed an eternity they finally arrived at Martin's Mill. The mood coming from the town was strange, the people seemed to be waiting restlessly for something, but Winter's thoughts on the matter were quickly interrupted as one of the guards noticed them coming. Since it was obvious the defenders had won the battle she assumed a few things about the town. First was that they were fighting against the king, second that it was likely that the leader of the rebellion was in this town, and lastly that it was likely the rebels were supporters of Princess Ainsfeld. Throwing back the hood of her cowl she strode forward.

“Greetings,” she said lifting her voice to the guard. She noticed a few of the other guards turn their attention to her as well, “I am Princess Winter Ainsfeld, and these are my retainers, Archmage Heldrin Moss, Sir Lox the Swift, and my handmaiden Clarissa,” she definitely heard someone choking behind her, but ignored it. “I seek the Lord in charge of the forces here as well as refuge.”

The guard, who had failed to say anything before Winter began her pitch, promptly went boggle eyed when he realized who she was. Taking a knee, with his fist to the ground he replied, “As you wish Your Royal Highness,” he said heatedly, “I will personally guide you to Lord Newell. If it pleases you Highness?”

With what she hoped was a haughty nod Winter allowed the man to rise. Turning he started barking orders to the other men. It was only moments until they were surrounded by a group of ten soldiers who began pushing their way through the crowd of people massed at the entrance.

“Why are so many gathered here,” she wondered out loud. The guard whom she had initially spoken to turned to her with a regretful look.

“Looters Highness,” he said, his face twisting in disgust. “They aught to know better though, nothing could have survived those flames,” he spoke with a twinge of pride at that.

Strolling through the town Winter noticed that they were taking a somewhat roundabout route, they were turning right way too much. Looking down one street they had avoided she realized why. There were several soldiers dragging the remains of horses and fallen knights. “So they did manage to make it into the town then?” she asked the guard at her side.

He nodded smiling then, “It was all part of Lady Newell's plan,” he said excitedly. “We lured the bastards in, cut down their horses, and when they could find no escape from our ambush the cowards surrendered!” He was making all kinds of excited hand motions while he described the battle, but Winter cringed inside thinking of Clarissa hearing it all. Glancing back at her though, the little girl was looking down with her finger pressed against her mouth in thought. Maybe she wasn't paying attention after all.

Before long they found themselves standing in front of a large estate, complete with several guards at the entrance. It was a long, yellow three story building that reminded Winter of a plantation manor like in those old civil war movies his father had loved watching. After their escort explained who she was they were lead inside by one of the guards and shown to a sitting room. Lox promptly dropped his things and plopped into one of the thickly cushioned brown leather couches, sighing greatly. Clarissa followed suit, sitting next to her sprawled out brother yawning. Heldrin glared at the two while remaining standing.

“It may have been different while you three were out and about before,” the old man began, “but here we are in the presence of nobility!” He huffed, “if you don't learn some propriety in the presence of Her Royal Highness Sir Lox you might find yourself in prison again, or worse.”

Lox shot Winter a disparaging look then, “yeah, what was that all about anyway? I don't want to be a knight!” He then looked back at Heldrin, “and what do you mean propreeally or whatever?”

Clarissa sighed getting up then, “he means we have to start treating Winter like a princess,” she said putting her hands on her hips in front of Lox. “Get up so we can stand behind her!” Winter had seated herself in the couch opposite from the two siblings, and she noticed that Heldrin was already doing exactly what Clarissa had suggested.

“I don't really get it, but whatever,” Lox said as he joined the two others flanking Winter.

“You guys really don't-” Winter began, but was cut off by Heldrin.

“I know Winter,” he said gently putting a hand on her shoulder, “just bear with it for the time being.”

“Ugh, fine,” she said dejectedly, “I guess I'll act like a princess too, so don't get mad at me okay?” She looked pointedly at Lox and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Ah, one last thing,” said Heldrin, “Return now, to thine original state,” he chanted in English. Winter felt a slight, warm tingling then noticed that her long hair had returned to it's normal deep purple color. It was a subtle purple, the light from the windows set it off every time she shifted her head.

A gentle knock came from door as it slowly opened. Winter wasn't sure if she should stand or remain sitting, but as soon as the she could think of it, a tall athletic looking man with shaggy blond hair and wild looking blue eyes sauntered into the room. Behind him a shorter girl, about the same height as Winter walked in. She had a cheerful face framed by blond hair tied back into two buns. Winter was struck by her beauty, the girl had a graceful looking body coupled with rather large assets adorning her chest. The part of her that still considered herself male writhed, and she had to erase a loose grin that started to form on her lips. The siblings both wore the same lopsided grin as they greeted Winter.

“By the gods, it really is you!” breathed the tall man she assumed was Eban Newell.

“It's been a long time Winter!” said the girl behind him as she moved to his side. If she remembered right this girl would be Mirianna, Eban's sister. Heldrin had said she was attending school in Tenemin City. The duo looked like a pair of delinquents to Winter though, so she wasn't surprised to find the girl here instead of being at school.

Winter wasn't quite sure where to begin. She had known that these nobles would have been acquainted with their princess, but the vibe here was a little more than that. “Uh, well you must forgive me,” she said, “it seems as though my memories were lost during my imprisonment.”

For a moment Winter saw rage enter into the young lord's eyes, then he said, “Damn that Boris!” he seethed, “I'll have his head yet, House Audemar has gone too far this time!”

“Boris?” said Lox behind her. “Why does that sound familiar-” Clarissa quietly elbowed her brother.

“No, you are right Lox,” Mirianna and Eban seated themselves as they looked at Winter in curiosity. “You brought that sword right?” He nodded and went to rummage in the luggage he had dropped earlier. “I thought it was odd for a guard to have a weapon like this,” she muttered as Lox handed her the short sword.

“What do you mean Winter,” asked Eban while looking at the sword in interest.

“Well, one of the guards called the former owner of this blade Boris,” she said “and it has a coat of arms here on the pommel, do you recognize it?” She handed the sword over to Eban then, and he and Mirianna studied it for a moment.

“Former owner you say,” said the twin bun girl looking at Winter while cocking her head.

“Lets just say he met an appropriate end,” Winter said leaning forward. Appropriate indeed, wallowing in fetid excrement and bleeding out from the neck she had cut with his own sword.

“And so ends House Audemar,” stated Eban sighing. It looked like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders, and he flashed that lopsided grin at her again. “You've accomplished what we have been trying to do ever since your father was assassinated,” he said happily, “would that it had been earlier, you would likely be Queen right now.”

“That's an exaggeration Eban,” said Mirianna in a flat voice, “in all likelihood it would have been easier yes, but things would have been much different...” she trailed off shaking her head.

“But I'm Third Princess aren't I?” Winter asked in confusion, “how is it that I would be made

queen?”

“You really did lose your memories didn't you?” said Eban looking at her sadly.

“The law states that princesses who are married off to other kingdoms can lay no claim on our throne,” began Mirianna. Lox was yawning behind Winter, but got ignored, “We even have treaties with our allies regarding this, so there's no way Alexandra or Elander would be able to succeed the White Throne,” she said, “besides, it was always planned to have Rolf succeed anyways.”

Winter nodded in understanding, but she was still curious, “Was I not betrothed to someone too though?” It would be important to have allies if she wanted to survive in this world.

“Ah, a few times if I remember rightly,” muttered Eban, but his sister glared at him.

“There were many prospects for your Royal Highness,” Mirianna said, a strange gleam in her eye, “but for some reason every single time someone came forward with talks of an engagement... things started happening,” she paused then, “...there were even a few assassinations,” she concluded. Silence overtook the room then.

“But, why...” Winter couldn't comprehend what that meant.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

“It was an open secret in the court of nobles that Lord Audemar had his eye set on you,” Eban said with disgust, “your father never would have allowed it however, his house had too much power, and that's beside him being a disgusting pervert.” Eban looked as if he had eaten something bitter.

“That didn't stop the rumors of you being a cursed princess however,” Mirianna put in. “After a time talks of betrothal stopped altogether.” It was only natural, even if she wasn't cursed someone was chasing away every suitor who showed up. Winter silently wondered what kind of messed up kingdom Ramsfeld was.

“Well, enough of that,” said Eban with that lopsided grin again. “You've no doubt had a long trip from the capital. We've a warm bath prepared and rooms set up for you to stay in.” He looked at his sister, then back to Winter then, “We can talk of our current dealings and where we plan on going from here once you're settled in.”

“Alright,” said Winter rising from her seat. She noticed the other two stood up a beat after she did, “that sounds good to me.”

With that they were lead to their rooms. Winter got her own bath, but she wondered about everyone else. Still, even if it wasn't her original body, it was strange when the maid stayed in the room with her offering to wash Her Royal person. She accepted though, only because she thought the poor woman would be punished if she chased her out. Besides, Winter still hadn't completely figured out how to put on any of this medieval style cosplay that passed for clothing here. The maid was a godsend.

In fact she found that the Newells had provided some new clothing for her while she was in the bath. They looked to be from Mirianna, perhaps older clothes since the chest area of the low cut dark green tunic actually fit Winter just fine, a small part of her mind was screaming about that, but she pushed it aside. A matching frilled skirt had also been donated. Great, another skirt, she thought. She kept her knee high boots from before though, since they fit so well anyways.

Feeling refreshed she came down from her room following the maid to a large dining room. Delicious smells were making their way from the nearby kitchen as a few servants rushed back and forth bringing food to the table. Winter was sat at the head, with Eban and Mirianna on either side of her. Her other three companions were already seated at the large table, as well as a few soldier looking people she didn't recognize. Winter had not seen this much food in one place since she arrived in this world, but Eban stood and soon made clear what was going on.

“In celebration not only of our decisive victory this morning,” he said raising a glass filled with wine, “but also for the return of her Royal Highness Princess Winter Ainsfeld, let us eat!” He smiled at Winter as he returned to his seat, and she noticed Lox looking on with a slight scowl at the man. She moaned internally, Oh great, please no...

The meal was superb, everything from a turkey like beast that looked to be the size of a large pig, to various fruits and vegetables she'd never seen before. There was also something like a shepherd's pie that she greedily devoured. Supposing her body was still recovering from her imprisonment she ate happily until she was full.

“Same as always,” chuckled Mirianna watching her eat.

“Eh?” uttered Winter between mouthfuls.

“Yep,” agreed Eban, “even without her memories she's still the same as always.”

Wait wait wait, you mean this girl is always this hungry?! She couldn't believe it, wouldn't she be fat? How long had she been in prison for?

Seeing the surprise on her face the two siblings laughed. Winter decided to pace herself then, which only made them chuckle further. Heldrin ate sparingly while Lox seemed to keep his dark mood, even though he also wolfed down one of the shepherd pies and a good chunk of the giant turkey thing. Clarissa ate like a bird of course, proclaiming herself full after only a few small pieces of meat and veggies. After they had all finished Eban lead them to another room within the estate.

This room was dominated by a large table, with high backed chairs lining the four walls. Clarissa had decided to retire to her room, as well as Heldrin. Lox came with Winter and three of the soldiers who had eaten with them. They had been identified as squad leaders for the various regiments of their small army, which had apparently been stationed in a small warehouse district within the town. Talmas was the leader of the Mage company, Ric lead the infantry, and Raissa was in charge of the archers. It was Raissa who had caught Winter's attention, as she had long black hair with large yellow almond shaped eyes under a suspicious wide brimmed hat. The former CIA agent had noticed the hat...twitching from time to time. She decided to sidle up to the archer girl as they gathered around the table, trying not to stare. Even so, the hat twitched once again as Raissa noticed the princess standing next to her.  Very suspicious, she thought with glee.

Ric went to the corner and returned, his huge arms filled with rolled up papers. Setting them on the table Eban nodded in thanks, then spread one out onto the large table. It was a detailed map of the region around a city called Tenemin that Winter had heard about from Heldrin. There were several small villages and larger towns all listed as well, the region looked to be fairly well populated.  After a moment Eban spoke.

“I'll inform you of our current situation now Highness,” he said in a businesslike tone. “The territory we control is here,” he said circling a region around the town of Martin's Mill. There were several other villages and one town called Anaram that he pointed out. “We had plans to break you out of that prison,” he said, “but unfortunately we have been cut off from Tenemin recently, and our information network fell apart.”

“I had plans to set up something in Ramsfeld proper,” Mirianna put in, “but you beat us to it, seeing as you're here now,” she smiled lopsidedly. “I recommend we start making our way to the capital as soon as possible so that we can oust that awful brother of yours,” she said, eyes gleaming.

“That..sounds really hasty,” Winter said. Wasn't this girl supposed to be a genius? Maybe it only extended to battle tactics and not overall strategy. In fact, now that she thought about it, burning the fields around Martin's Mill was idiotic in the long run, as far as food supply was concerned. Staring at the map Winter pondered for a moment. She noticed all eyes were on her, so she started with her idea.

It was simple really. One of the things the CIA had specialized in was disrupting governments in order to topple regime's not friendly to the United States. Although there were more than enough instances where this had backfired, badly, they had nonetheless been able to execute their goals with success on many occasions. It was always a successful mission when nobody knew about it.

“First we need to reestablish control of Tenemin,” she stated pointing at the map, “to do this we'll gather recruits from the neighboring towns and villages,” she looked up at Eban and Mirianna, “I suppose we have enough money to pay our soldiers?” They nodded like it was a given, rich bastards, “I want to offer double wages for anyone who volunteers to fight on the front lines,” she said then, “and give them something fancy to wear...something...purple.”

Mirianna and Eban looked confused, but nodded their heads slowly in consent, “I don't quite get it, but I sense you're going to tell us more,” asked Eban.

“Yep,” she replied smiling, “every rebellion,” they all grimaced at the word, but that's what it was wasn't it? “every rebellion should have some kind of symbol, a color, something that people can identify with.” Her smile grew and a light entered her blue eyes then, “this shall henceforth be known as the War of the Purple Rose, we are now the Legion of the Purple Rose.”

“I like it,” said Mirianna, “but I don't completely understand.”

“It's simple,” said Winter, “we are giving the common folk something to stand for, something physical that they can look too for hope against a base tyranny who has them in the yolk of an affliction they hadn't even realized was there!” Her eyes were wide now, shining in the light of the chandelier that hung above them. She continued, “I want you to find artists,” she said, “is there such a thing as a printing press?” she asked suddenly.

“A what?” asked Eban in confusion.

“No, nothing,” she said, “gather as many artists and scribes as you can,” she looked at Eban then, “we're going to make some propaganda, think of all the laws enacted that commoners dislike, be it taxes, tariffs, lack of basic rights as a human being, anything. I want a list, and I want those artists as soon as possible.”

“As you wish Highness,” Eban stiffened, bowing. Winter noticed that the others were looking at her strangely, but she paid it no mind.

“Lox, I want you to help Eban with that list,” Winter demanded. The boy nodded stiffly, but she could see a bit of a smile in his eyes. “We are going to badmouth this kingdom until the commoners come swarming to me for an abatement of their woes.”

“But your highness,” said Raissa, her hat twitching, “this will surely cause widespread discontent, maybe even a true rebellion.” Her yellow eyes held worry and fear in equal amounts.

“And that is precisely what we need Raissa,” Winter asserted, “As long as I am seen as the salve, the cure for this great evil, the people will follow me.”

They each nodded then, finally agreeing. Winter could tell there were still doubts, but they would see how her plan worked soon enough. Still, she wasn't completely finished.

“One more thing,” she stated holding up a finger, “we absolutely need those information networks remade,” she said looking at Mirianna, “I want spies in every town from Tenemin to Ramsfeld, I will write out a booklet outlining some methods and techniques on spy work.” She paused then, “find me the shadiest, most slippery thief you can, send messages through to the underworld,” she said then, “I will train him personally.”

By this time their eyes were boggling, but that was too be expected. “I suppose we won't be moving from here for some time then,” Eban asked.

“That is so Lord Newell,” Winter replied. “To rebuild this kingdom, we will first have to destroy it. We will gather those who chose to follow me, and burn the rest,” she finished in a level tone. An ominous silence permeated the room as the notion of what they were about to undertake slowly sunk in.