Ferene slept on the bench in the wagon, while her captors left for the night. The second day was much like the first. Ines asked her a few questions, which she ignored. The Hatharen, whose name she didn’t know but she started thinking of as just Voice, made comments, mocked her, and demanded Ines slap him. There were no more shocking incidents like his ear.

  The middle of the third day, someone talked to Ines through the window. She frowned at Ferene, then whispered something to Voice.

  He turned to Ferene, smiling. “Your friend is chasing us with a small number of soldiers.” Ines closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. “We could turn around and crush her, if we wanted. What do you think she’s doing?”

  Ferene didn’t respond.

  “Right, you’re an idiot. You wouldn’t know. How about this; do you want to see the emperor of Celngi, or do you want to see your friend die? I’m giving you a choice.”

  “You can’t beat her.” Ferene responded. She couldn’t imagine Taradira losing, after what she had seen.

  “Captain Camus, your analysis?”

  “We shouldn’t talk about this in front of the enemy.”

  Voice laughed. “She’s not going to leak our plans. I want her to know. It’s fun this way. Now, the emperor wants to hear your analysis of the situation.”

  “If we fight her with our full numbers, we’ll win. The fact that she’s gaining on us means that she’s either forcing a harder march, or her troops can move faster to begin with, or both. At the current rates, she’ll catch up to us in the hills, which favors hit and run tactics. She can harass the long, exposed column of our army as we move along the narrow roads. Sending out patrols to keep her away is just sending soldiers to their deaths. We have three proper options.”

  Voice leaned back, relaxed, his usual energy gone. “Tell me.”

  “First, we leave a separate force to delay her. Given her victories so far, I doubt they would survive. Second, we force a harder march. If we can increase our speed enough, she’ll catch us closer to the grasslands. We’ll spend some time being harassed by her in the hills, but it will minimize our losses. Those tactics will be much less effective in the open. It will be hard on the troops and horses but there will be less losses.”

  “Leave men to fight and die, or run like cowards. What is the third option?”

  “Conmoore.”

  “Explain.”

  She looked at Ferene again, then back at Voice. “A medium-sized town to the north. We go there and take up a defensive position. Her strike force won’t have the supplies for a siege. We can turn the situation around on them. Use it as a base to launch hit and run attacks of our own, at our leisure. There is a chance that since the town was recently built, the enemy doesn’t know about it. That’s only a bonus, though - the plan is solid even if they do know.”

  “Part of the emperor’s northern development plan?” Ines nodded in response to the question. “That is the best option, but it goes against our goal.”

  “Is she really so important?”

  “The Emperor will want to meet her. I am sure of it.”

  “You are prepared to sacrifice soldiers and our position in this war for that?”

  “Yes.”

  For a tiny moment, Ferene saw Ines glare at Voice, but the expression vanished as she nodded. “If the emperor demands it, it shall be done. I will order a forced march, and I will be marching with them.”

  “Of course.”

  She left, and Voice let out a sigh, turning his gaze towards Ferene. “She has a hard time expressing her love, sometimes. You, however, seem unable to express anything but anger.” He extended his leg, poking her knee.

  Ferene remained silent, as the gentle wobbling of the wagon turned rough. The two sat in silence for an hour, before Voice let out another sigh.

  “You could stand to be a better conversation partner, you know?”

  Shutting her eyes, Ferene took a deep breath. He nudged her with his foot again.

  “I have prisoners from Ettsgras, you know. Those who objected to the takeover of the towns were sent to the imperial capital. When we get back - which we will, regardless of your friend chasing us - I can execute as many as I want. So talk to me.”

  Ferene opened her eyes, glaring up at him. His face was blank, expressionless. There was still cloth wrapped around the tip of his ear. “How’s your ear?” She asked.

  Immediately, his face twisted in anger. “Is that an attempt at wit? Were you a jester, before becoming a failure of a knight?”

  Ferene pressed her lips together, but Voice nudged her with his foot again. “No.” She sain.

  “What were you, then?”

  “I killed people.”

  “Any specific type of people, or just anyone you met?”

  “Criminals.”

  “Ah yes, I’m sure the marketplace scammers were met with swift beheading. A just cause. For the chicken thieves, a sword through the heart. Insulting a nobleman? Bleed out from a sword wound to the stomach. Adulterers can be stabbed through the lungs and drown in their own blood.”

  “Bandits, slavers, and murderers.”

  “Tell me a story about one.”

  Ferene frowned. She didn’t want to talk to him, but his threat remained in her mind. “A powerful man took me hostage and threatened to kill some farmers if I didn’t do what he wanted. I broke free and killed him.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Not a very good story.”

  Pulling against her chains uselessly, Ferene glared at him. “I’m not a good storyteller.”

  Smiling, he leaned forward. “You don’t get good at things unless you practice. Tell me another story.”

  Wheeling his horse around, the scout fell in beside Taradira. “They are moving faster, General. Forced march, it looks like.”

  Most of her small army was on foot, horses walking behind with bags. The cavalrymen had two horses and were ready to mount the first at a moment’s notice. Only the scouts were currently mounted, and they were the only ones Taradira looked up at when speaking to. “We’ll continue for a day, then turn south. I want them to commit to running before we reveal our goal. Anything odd about their line?”

  “There’s a wagon in the center of it, separate from the supply wagons. Either an older commander or an important noncombatant.”

  “And a potential place for a prisoner. Keep an eye on them, and avoid their own scouts. You’re doing good work.”

  The man gave her a salute before riding off. Frennich approached her. “If they have someone important, are they worth pursuing further?”

  “Little chance we can take them prisoner with the difference in numbers, and it would be better to take territory. Our goal is unchanged by this information, but we will remember it for later. They had a bigger plan with this force, but they changed it for some reason. Possibly because of our fake envoy, possibly for another reason. Leave the overthinking to Gallen, he’s good at that. We need to focus on our current goal.”

  “We take Barakin and we’ll be in a good position. Meet his majesty’s demand, and hold one of the major cities.”

  “But it won’t end. They have to agree to the redrawn lines. A formally declared war does not end when we stop moving forward. We win at Barakin, and we’re on the defensive, in what used to be enemy territory.”

  Frennich frowned. “Would it be better to push further in, then?”

  Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

  Smiling, Taradira nodded. “It is not our job to negotiate, but we can give our people land they can concede. Might be helpful.”

  “They turned south. Directly south, not back the way they came. They can surround Barakin.”

  Voice rolled his eyes. “I assume you want to do something about that?”

  “I do.” Ines said, her voice calm and level, but her jaw tense. “I was ordered to prevent any further advances, and we are giving up a key region. Not only does it have a large population, but much of our metal comes from there. Metal we need to keep fighting this war.”

  “We have enough weapons and armor to take it back, I assume? Or do you wish to say the imperial army is incapable of such a feat?” Voice asked, and Ines shook her head, her lips pressed tight together, her eyes lowered. “Good! The Emperor will support my choice. We can bring our armies to bear, and recruit more if we need to. Won’t it be easier to surround them when they push forward like this? You are the strategist, so tell me.”

  “Yes, it will be.”

  “Good. Now hit me.”

  Ferene was so used to these exchanges at this point that she wasn’t surprised by the request, only the second one getting her attention.

  “That wasn’t hard enough. You can do better. Hit me.”

  “It was the same as-“

  “Captain Ines Camus. You are angry with me. Unleash your anger. Hit me. Make me feel pain.”

  Ferene watched as the woman’s head snapped upwards, and she shifted her position before slapping Voice. His head twisted, and he let out a shout of pain. Rubbing his jaw, he turned back to her. “So, we can use this. Give up some now, regroup, and then turn on them. Does that not work?”

  “We have been doing that this whole time, ever since their first advance. With our supply lines in shambles from the bandit raids, we had little choice. Now we do have a choice, and you’re having us do it again. We can keep falling back until we reach the capital.”

  Ferene turned when she heard the mention of bandit raids. “Something you want to say?” Voice asked, noticing her shift. She immediately looked away. Turning back to Ines, he waved a hand dismissively. “We will do as I say. The emperor will understand. The generals will devise a different strategy, and you will be there to offer input.”

  “Maybe if we had more insight on the enemy commander, perhaps from someone close to her, we’d be able to come up with better plans to beat her.” Ines said.

  “Perhaps.” Voice nodded.

  Ferene was let out of the wagon once, to stretch her legs. Under guard, her wrists chained together, she walked for half an hour before being forced back inside. A few days later, they arrived at Celngi, and she stepped out once more to find herself inside a stone building. The army was nowhere to be seen, instead several other wagons and horses were scattered around, stablehands tending to the beasts. Ines and Voice guided her through a doorway, up a staircase, and through several hallways to arrive in a throne room. Massive pillars lined the walls, stretching up to a dizzyingly high ceiling. On the raised throne sat a bald-headed, clean-shaven middle aged man. Upon seeing Ferene, he stood, a cane appearing in his left hand. He pointed at Voice, who quickly walked over to the man, swinging around to stand behind his right shoulder. Ines fell to her knees, only raising upon a command from the man.

  “Who is this?” The bald man asked, pointing his cane at Ines.

  “A Hatharen, your majesty. Formerly a knight of Wellent, before she was banished. She allied herself with Ettsgras, and attempted to pose as an emissary from Wellent and talk to us.”

  The man’s mouth twitched, and he took a single assisted step forward. He wore a blue robe with gold stitches and elaborate embroidery across the breast. “Yes, yes, but what is her name?”

  Ines bowed her head. “She isn’t very talkative, your grace.”

  “What is your name?” The man asked, looking at Ferene. She set her jaw and glared back at him. Immediately, a man appeared from behind a pillar, sword in hand, stepping towards Ferene. The emperor raised a hand, and the soldier stopped, vanishing just as fast as he appeared. “Captain, release her bindings.”

  There was a moment of hesitation, before Ines produced a key and unlocked the shackles around Ferene’s wrists. They fell to the floor, clanging loudly on the stone tiles. “What is your name?”

  She blinked, looking down at her hands, then back up at the emperor. “Ferene.” She said.

  He smiled at her. “And you are part human, just like Elhaten here?”

  Behind the emperor, Voice - Elhaten - smiled at Ferene. “My mother was a human,” She responded. He spoke casually, but Ferene felt that he was demanding an answer. He wasn’t like Cerise, or Yenra, or Senral - they were all royalty, but they didn’t look at her the way he did, the people around them didn’t act like Elhaten acted around him. The Hatharen’s casual, playful demeanor was mostly gone. While he smiled at her, he stood up straight, and kept his arms either at his sides or clasped behind his back.

  “You look like a fighter, Ferene, but you do not act like a soldier. Are you a mercenary?”

  She shook her head. “I fought for people who couldn’t protect themselves.”

  “How noble.” He didn’t quite frown, but his smile vanished. “Why? What was in it for you?”

  “I hated them,” She told him. He kept staring at her, and she felt a strange sense of pressure. He was waiting. He knew there was something else, something more. “I hated myself. I used to be like them.”

  The emperor raised his hands in front of him. “And now you are different. Playing political games. What happened?”

  “I wanted to learn how to be a soldier.”

  “Because of what happened in Wellent.”

  Ferene nodded.

  “It doesn’t suit you. You should do what you do best. Do you want to punish the unjust? To right wrongs inflicted on the defenseless?”

  Her mouth felt dry. She looked at him, trying to read his expression. No emotion she recognized showed on the emperor’s face. “Yes.” She said. She wanted to help Taradira, but she wanted this, now. Taradira could win her war without her help, and the two of them could meet up after.

  “Captain, return her armaments to her, and bring her to the coliseum.” Holding his cane in his hand, not using it, the emperor walked away, Elhaten following in his wake, leaving Ines and the others to bow towards his back.

  The city of Barakin nestled against the side of a mountain, dipping downwards along a man-made slope that led into the dark depths of the mines that made the city critical for the empire. Taradira and Frennich’s combined force, coming from the north, had to round the mountain, ending up on a slope to the north-east of the city, with a vantage point to see it in full detail.

  Two semicircular walls surrounded the city’s center, with another section of the city tightly wedged between them, and even more structures sprawling outwards in the open beyond the outer wall. The inner wall was sectioned off with four massive turreted towers, twice as tall as the wall they were set in and four times as tall as the other.

  “Gallen and Gelvain, where are they now?”

  Frennich, frowning as he studied the city, turned to point southward. “The main force is camped on the other side of that rise. Gelvain set up his base of operations west of the mountain. If any reinforcements come from the capital, we’ll know about it.”

  “What do they have in the city currently?”

  “Word from Gelvain is that when Coryan moved on Galbr, they sent a hundred heavy cavalry out. They should have two hundred more, possibly twice that number of light cavalry. Some three hundred archers, two hundred footmen, and whatever they can put together as a militia. Possibly thousands. Two walls and even the mines if they want to fall back that far.

  “We aren’t taking the mines. We can seal them off. They can either stay in there or use one of the other exits that they are sure to have. We need to make sure they don’t surprise us with an attack from one of those. First thing, take your troops and hunt down that cavalry detachment. They aren’t headed to Galbr.”

  “Where are they headed, General?” Frennich asked, turning towards her, his brow furrowed.

  “No idea,” Taradira replied, shrugging. “But the numbers aren’t enough to take on Coryan’s army, and they aren’t going to harass with heavy cavalry. Either there’s another group hiding somewhere, or they are falling back for some reason. I don’t think Gelvain missed anything, but I don’t want a loose end. Move out.”

  Frennich saluted. “Yes, General.”

  Looking over the city, Taradira started to formulate a plan of attack.

  “A lieutenant in our army was stripped of his rank after he murdered a peasant girl. Before that, he was both an excellent fighter and leader, his squad one of our best. Would you kill him?”

  The emperor questioned Ferene, Elhaten at his shoulder. “Why did he kill the girl?” She asked, only to be met with silence. “Your majesty.” She added.

  “The girl was in a relationship with his son.”

  Frowning, Ferene studied the emperor closely, as he studied her. This was a test of some kind, it had to be. “May I ask what the man’s son wants, your majesty?”

  “He killed his son, too.” The emperor replied, smiling. “He is in our prison for two murders, but has requested a trial by combat. As a member of the military, however disgraced, he is entitled a chance to prove his value to the empire. If he can do that, he can be given a position on the front lines, to fight until he dies or pays for his crimes. Otherwise, he will be executed as a criminal.”

  Ferene almost asked what he would need to do to pay for his crimes, but didn’t. “He deserves to die.”

  The emperor’s smile widened, an expression mirrored by Elhaten. “If you defeat him in combat, you can kill him. That is why you are here, armed and armored. I am interested in seeing how you fight.”

  She was shown a staircase downward, leading to a wooden ladder. Climbing down, she found herself in a narrow nook, barely wider than her shoulders, with a metal gate on one side. The ladder was pulled upwards, leaving her trapped. The gate rose a moment later.

  Stepping out, Ferene entered a pit surrounded by high walls, open on the top. Looking up, she could see the emperor, Elhaten, and several other men dressed in robes. Another gate was raised across from her, and a large man stepped out, holding a short spear in one hand and a large, round shield in the other. His torso was protected by a chain shirt, a metal skirt attached below that, with greaves covering his lower legs and feet. Ferene took up her sword in both hands, assuming a fighting stance.

  It had been days since she last fought, or even trained, and the weight of her weapon felt reassuring. Her opponent silently advanced, stopping outside her range and circling to the left, his shield raised.

  A moment passed, long enough for him to complete his first step, putting the two of them off-center from each other. Ferene burst into motion, moving forward without even turning to face him. He spun as she ran to his side, swinging his spear at her. It didn’t have the length of Linara’s weapon, which gave Ferene an advantage in range. She clashed her sword against the shaft of the spear, just below the head. The man twisted his hand, trapping Ferene’s sword under the barbs of the spearhead, and pulled in while shoving his shield out. Ferene let go of her sword, grabbing the edge of the shield with one hand while she drew her second weapon with the other.

  The man was put off by her maneuver, his spear slowed by the weight of her sword. He tried to push Ferene away with his shield, but she put sideways pressure on it while she spun the other way, twisting around it and bringing her blade to his neck.

  The man collapsed to his knees, his hands on his throat, blood spilling through his fingers. Ferene picked up her dropped weapon, turning to look up at the emperor, who simply smiled.