“And that is to say nothing of her Far Sight,” she added. “For all we know, she is watching us as we speak.”
The sixth princess must have dealt the Vanir Triumvirate a truly humiliating defeat if she felt empowered to make such a presumptuous—if not outright threatening—demand. Odds were good that the empire would push clean through Draal to Vanr. Lucia did not have the numbers to face both the empire and Steissen at once, and defeat would mean losing everything. It had taken years upon years of waiting to usurp the High King, yet just as her schemes seemed poised to succeed, she had been handed what amounted to a death sentence.
“Fetch me parchment and ink.” With a hollow chuckle, she let Lady Celia Estrella’s letter drop. “We shall retreat.”
She lowered her eyes, her face twisting into a grimace. Her shoulders shook as she pressed her hands to her forehead.
＊＊＊＊＊
A gentle wind blew across the plain, carrying with it the smell of death. Groups of soldiers were hard at work despite the stench. In teams of two and three, they carried away the bodies carpeting the battlefield. Some of the corpses had been savaged by beasts unknown; some had been wounded beyond recognition; some belonged to comrades, friends, or family. One by one, the soldiers wrapped them all in cloth, holding back their tears just as they suppressed their nausea.
The battle with the Vanir Triumvirate was over, but the refuse of battle was still fresh. Rosa’s nose wrinkled. Aura had left her to clean up the mess, but she doubted she would ever grow accustomed to the smell of blood. Nonetheless, this was necessary work. Unattended corpses were breeding grounds for disease. The álfar might not have been her people, but leaving them to rot would risk starting a plague. They had to be disposed of promptly. There was no time for proper funerary rites—the bodies would be gathered together and burned. Sickness was not the only danger they presented if left unattended. They would draw monsters and battlefield scavengers, both of which would disrupt the peace, as well as bandits and brigands who would threaten nearby settlements. Rosa was obliged to stay until the grim task was done.
“Did the commonfolk agree to help?” she asked.
Behind her, one of her aides nodded. “We have a hundred laborers assisting already, but it seems word has spread. Three hundred more are begging us to take them on.”
“Tell them I accept.”
The man looked hesitant. “But, my lady, the expense...”
“Will not be a concern. Although I have no intention of threatening the local nobles for the coin, of course.”
The aide looked quizzical. “Then what will you do?”
Rosa came to a stop and gestured with a thrust of her chin. Her aides’ eyes followed. Prisoners of war from the Vanir Triumvirate stood nearby, bound at the wrists with their hands behind their backs. The ropes looped around their waists and on to the next prisoner. Their feet had been bound in a similar way, tying them together like a string of pearls so they could not escape. These were the soldiers who had chosen to throw themselves upon the empire’s mercy rather than flee to Draal. If the reports were to be believed, the rest had been apprehended by the Grand Duchy and any who resisted had been executed.
“We’ll ransom the nobles,” Rosa said. “The rest we can sell to Draal. I’m sure the Grand Duke will pay handsomely.”
It was not hard to imagine what would become of them. Álfar had fair, delicate features. They would fetch a small fortune at the slave markets of Lichtein. It was hard to say whether surrendering had bettered their lot, but Rosa did not pity them. They would have shown no mercy had their positions been reversed.
“And the ransom money will pay our labor costs, I presume?” one of her aides asked.
Rosa nodded. “House Kelheit will foot the bill in the meantime.” She made to set off again, but a thought struck her and she took on a distant look. “Oh, that’s right. Liz’s letter should be arriving around now. The Divines only know what Six Kingdoms will make of it...”
If she had been in Lucia’s place, she would have been red with fury. There was nothing more pleasing than to see one’s plans proceeding as expected, and nothing more galling than to watch them suddenly fall apart.
The empire had benefited greatly from Six Kingdoms’ invasion and could have allowed it to continue, but now that the Vanir Triumvirate was no longer an immediate threat, allowing the nation to fall entirely would be unwise. Balance was paramount. If the Triumvirate collapsed, a new, stronger player could arise from the wreckage. Rosa wanted Liz to inherit a stable Soleil when she was crowned empress.
“What if Queen Lucia does not agree to our terms?” one of the aides asked.
“Then we will soon be riding through Draal ourselves. We will have to join forces with Steissen and invade the Triumvirate.”
That was another reason she had enlisted the help of local laborers to clear the battlefield. There was never any harm in taking precautions.
“And I understand that the southern and eastern nobles are making their way north,” Rosa added. “If we must, we can leave matters in their hands and make straight for Six Kingdoms.”
Before the war even began, she had considered every possibility and made meticulous plans to counter them. She was confident she was ready for anything.
“But I doubt it will come to that. The Vanir Triumvirate will not be going quietly. If Lucia doesn’t withdraw from Vanr, she might as well don the noose herself. Retreat is her only choice.”
Lucia had already made herself High Queen. She would not sacrifice that long-held dream for foolish stubbornness. And then...
And then Liz would save Hiro, and at last, all of this would be over. All that would remain would be her coronation. After a thousand years, the empire would have its first empress. The legend of the woman who had ended the great war would be told until the end of time, and once she passed from this world, there would be a place waiting for her in the imperial pantheon. Her father had spent his life trying to become the thirteenth Divine; she would accomplish it. And the empire would—
No. Rosa shook her head. Enough speculation. None could say for sure what the future held. Half the fun of being alive was finding out. Nobody was guaranteed a happily ever after—further hardships could very well lie ahead. Indeed, without that awareness, people would not try their best in the here and now.
“With any luck, the next generation will be able to take care of itself,” she murmured.
Soleil had endured one of the greatest wars it had ever known, and the talent it had sowed was already emerging across the land. If the empire could seek out and cultivate that talent, its continued reign would be assured.
“All the more reason Hiro has to live. He has a promise to keep.”
She raised her eyes to the sky with a prayer for his safety in her heart.
＊＊＊＊＊
The sun sank softly below the horizon. Night fell once more. Nocturnal insects sang in chorus, and the beasts of the night prowled in search of prey.
As a black curtain settled over the world, one place glowed with blinding radiance: Fort Towen. Bonfires covered the battlements, burning so bright that the gloom had no foothold. Cooking fires sprang up in the encampment outside the walls, and soldiers crowded around them in search of light.