“Yes’m!” the three chimed with a salute.
“Did I hear a ma’am in there?”
“No, ma’am!”
Malra threw her arms up in the air and turned to leave. “Geez! And the neighbors wonder why I live alone!”
“Sorry, Malra!” Fyrro said dutifully as they went about cleaning the room.
Malra walked into the downstairs. Lemina was sitting at the table wearing an apron. The two had been awake for a while already. “Are they up?” Lemina asked.
“Yeah,” Malra answered, “but they managed to make a mess of the room, so I’ve got them cleaning that up.”
“They tend to do that,” Lemina said, sipping a cup of hot tea. “Are you sure it wasn’t too much to have you make this?”
“Oh, not at all,” Malra said, shrugging it off with a wave of her hand. “Boiling the water makes it safer, anyways. Things are going to start growing again, too, so I may as well keep using the old stuff.”
“How do you get this stuff out here, anyway?” Lemina asked. “It’s not exactly common back in the castle, let alone on the streets.”
“I’ve got a garden out back,” Malra said. “I made sure to pick up a few things before I moved out here. How to make decent drinks was one of ‘em.”
Lemina nodded. “Y’know, you could have just had us dump our clothes back down the hole after we got cleaned up,” she changed the subject. “I mean, it’s not like we’d have been much worse off in our armor than naked if someone even had come by and found us.”
“Yeah,” Malra said with a smile, “but that wouldn’t have been as much fun as making them all strip down.”
“You know Fyrro’s my brother, right?”
Malra paused. “Well, I was really only interested in the other two,” she said dismissively.
“I don’t know if I should feel better or feel insulted for my brother,” Lemina replied cheekily.
They heard the boys start coming down the stairs and dropped the subject. “Yer already finished?” Malra asked once they were in the room.
“Like I said, they tend to make a mess,” Lemina said, “so they’ve gotten pretty good at cleaning up.”
Malra took a moment to look at the three of them. “Well, cleaning the room up anyways,” she quipped. Each of them was horribly disheveled. “Go stick your heads outside while it’s still raining, see if you can make your hair look less like… that,” she said waving her hand around to explain what she meant. The boys just looked at each other, confused for a moment, and then, once they realized what she meant, they started chuckling. “Don’t laugh about it, fix it!” Malra demanded, blowing into the horn again. They all jumped and hurried off to do as she bade. Malra turned back to Lemina. “Geez, they’re just as bad now as when they were twelve,” she said, taking a swig of her tea like it was a shot.
“Oh, it’ll get better when they wake up enough to remember what’s going on,” Lemina reassured her.
The boys returned again. Malra cringed looking at them. “Ugh, good enough,” she said. “We’ve got too much to do to bother fixing you guys up right now. Each of you take a seat. We need to go over why you all are here.”
“What Malra and I were thinking,” Lemina said to them as they sat down, “is that we’re all Malra’s cousins who came down from a village to check on her when we heard what happened.”
“My neighbors all think I came down here from Purcherse when my uncle died,” Malra explained her own cover story, “so you all would have come from there, too. Lemina said no one heard your names in there, so we oughta be able to stick with them as they are, seeing as none of you are particularly famous. Now let me just make sure I’ve got these right. You were are all skinny little boys last I saw you. Fyrro?” she asked, pointing. Fyrro nodded the affirmative. “You’re the oldest of them, a year Fligner’s elder. Lemina is next oldest after him, and Seloh is the youngest. Your mom is my mom’s sister, while this house was owned by my uncle on my dad’s side. Follow?” Everyone nodded. “You all came down here yesterday when you heard about the invasion to make sure I was alright.”
“All four of us?” Seloh asked.
“Yeah,” Lemina said. “Malra and I already talked about that. It doesn’t make too much sense, so we decided on something like this: Fligner, you and my brother-”
“They’re both your brothers,” Malra corrected.
“Right,” Lemina said, correcting herself. “Older brothers, you two came down here to protect her. You know, prove your manhood and all that. Maybe hoping to pick a few fights with the Guldaran soldiers.”
“Works for me,” Fligner said.
Lemina just looked at him and sighed. “Don’t actually pick any fights, Fligner. We’re hiding, remember? Anyways, I joined in because I couldn’t bear the thought of dumping you two on her without any help.”
“And me?” Seloh asked.
Malra answered this one. “You joined in because you’re the youngest and you were sick of being the baby who never has to do anything.”
“So,” Fligner interjected, “if Lemina came here to help you take care of us, couldn’t you two be in charge of cleaning up for us?”
“It’s not funny, Fligner,” Fyrro said calmly. “We’re trying to lay low here.”
“Sorry,” Fligner said sheepishly, if not genuinely, realizing that his joke fell on deaf ears.
“So what else are we doing that you needed us come back so quickly?” Fyrro asked Malra.
“I bake bread for a living. Well, actually I got paid by the royal family, but that’s how I fake made money. Anyways, you all are going to help with that. Especially since now I actually need to make a living off of that.”
“It’s still pouring outside, though,” Seloh said. “Especially with the takeover, aren’t we going to have a while before anyone comes around?”
“Ohoh, I’m counting on that,” Malra laughed out of self-pity. Lemina chuckled.
“What do you mean?” Seloh asked.
Lemina patted his shoulder. “She means you guys are going to need some teaching.” She mocked apology.
“Oh.”
~~~~~
Rewjeo was woken the next day to a dull utterance of, “Sir.” He opened his eyes to find his entire field of view blocked by the Pikeman. Rewjeo shot up startled.
Rewjeo cleared his throat. “Good morning, sirrah,” he said calmly. “What’s the occasion?”
“Breakfast is ready, sir,” the Pikeman explained, “and there won’t be much there for long. You’ve slept in well past the soldiers, sir.”
Rewjeo rubbed his eyes. He would have been fine with missing breakfast for more sleep, but he knew that wouldn’t work in the situation.
“Thank you, sirrah,” he said. “I’ll be out momentarily. Could you step out for a moment while I get changed?”
“Yes, sir.”
Once he was dressed, Rewjeo walked into the common area of the barracks, where the food was being served. At the same time, the three colonels emerged together. Clearly they had just finished talking over something.
Slize and Bear, who Rewjeo had learned was named Kozma, took their place at the back of the line. Buck, whose name was Atzak, separated from them and used his rank to cut ahead. I’m starting to get a picture of what their roles are as colonels, Rewjeo thought to himself.
“Hey, kid!” Slize heralded him. “Why don’t you come join us? We can go over the last war now, if you’d like.”
“All right, colonel,” Rewjeo replied. He turned to the Pikeman. “Fetch my papers, sirrah. And the quill and inkwell.”
“Yes, sir,” the Pikeman said dutifully and turned back down the hall.
Rewjeo joined them. “I’ve sent for my materials,” he said.
“All right,” Kozma said. “We’ll start after we get food. Shall we eat back in your room, Slize?”
“Sure,” Slize said. He turned to Rewjeo and pointed it out, “My room’s just right there. It’s the closest with a decent table in it.”
The three got food and then walked into the room with their bowls. Slize quickly grabbed the papers from the table and rolled them up before they sat down. The Pikeman placed down Rewjeo’s supplies and then was dismissed for the duration of the meal. They left the door open, at Rewjeo’s request, to keep the rest of the troops from getting suspicious.
Rewjeo looked down at the brown slop in his bowl. “What is this? Oatmeal?”
“Minus the flavor,” Slize answered before scooping some up himself.
“Is this because of what’s going on in the cellars?” Rewjeo asked.
“Yes, although hopefully that will all be taken care of soon. Eirk should be heading down there as we speak,” Slize answered.
“I take it Eirk can be trusted to get results,” Rewjeo said.
Kozma replied, “He certainly can. But you’ll hear more about that after it’s done, I’m sure. Should I just start at the beginning of the last war?”
Rewjeo nodded and dabbed his quill in the inkwell.
“I’m afraid I have some things I need to do soon, so I’ll keep this brief. A few decades ago, the Neumorian Empire started expanding south towards the Teldur mountains. Fifteen years ago, back when I was a recruit, they hit on the border and launched an invasion. The three kingdoms here were more familiar with the rapid expansion of Neumor than the Neumorian emperor was with the goings-on here, and we had established a formal alliance years before in preparation for the invasion that was clearly coming. That allowed us to keep the fighting in the mountains near Gassad and Guldar, rather than in the valleys or the hills near Lofur.
“Neumor had a massive military advantage. Their capital city alone supposedly has a population equal to that of the entire Teldur region. Our advantage, as it has always been against foreign invaders, was the terrain. We used it to the best we could, but of course we could not match the pressure Neumor could put on us. At the worst, we had been pushed back into this castle. The turning point happened when they assaulted the castle. The Neumorian general took full advantage of his numerical advantage and threw wave after wave of troops against the wall. It worked well - the top ranking Guldarans were taken out by the largest flanking maneuver I’ve ever seen.
“The General, then a lieutenant, responded in kind. While the majority of the Telduran troops started pulling back into the keep under command of Gassad’s general, Kertankuse and some of his soldiers were able to sneak out of the castle. It was clear that the Telduran army had been pushed back and were trapped. The Neumorians let up their guard. General Kertankuse led a surprise attack that decimated the back ranks of the Neumorian army and a number of leaders, including the general.
“After that, the Neumorians were forced into a retreat. The General was promoted to general then. Battling continued in the mountains for some time, but the General took a very aggressive approach and drove them out.
“That’s the short version. I’m afraid I need to go now. If you have questions, you could speak to me or perhaps the General sometime.”
Rewjeo knew the story well enough, although Kozma’s version seemed to have some notable omissions regarding Jyron. All the same he had written it all down. Maybe what he was writing for Kertankuse would make a decent primary source some day after all.
“Thank you very much,” Rewjeo said, standing up to join Kozma on his way out.
Slize spoke up. “Ah, Kygao, if you wouldn’t mind sticking around, I’d actually like to talk to you some myself. Kozma, could you close the door on your way out?”
“Sure,” Kozma said before exiting.
Rewjeo sat back down warily. “What do you want to talk about?”
“What did you think of dinner last night, kid?”
“Well, the food was better than breakfast, and better than what I’ve been eating most of the time on the road.”
“Not that, the conversation.” Slize stood up.
“Oh, I don’t know. It seemed like it was mostly business, you know. I assume that’s why he had me taken out after he’d asked me his questions.”
Slize leaned in. “Kertankuse doesn’t trust you.”
“Yeah,” Rewjeo said, “I know. That’s why he’s got that guy trailing me and-”
“No,” Slize said. “He’s not just feeling you out. He really doesn’t trust you. He thinks you’re a risk.”
“Okay?”
“Just a warning, kid. Keep yourself in line, or offer him up something he can’t refuse. He won’t think twice about getting rid of you.”
~~~~~
Eirk stood by as the White Pike set about removing the cellar door again. He was messing around with a makeshift gauntlet he had mutilated to fit his left hand. He’d pulled off all the fingers except the one that would cover his lost nail. It felt a little weird, but he sort of liked it. It put some more weight behind his claws.
The door was out. “Push that shelf down with your pikes,” he commanded. “After that, torchbearers head in carefully, shields up. White Pike, follow them in carefully. Wait to see if they start to attack before going in.” He turned to a soldier standing next to him, who was wearing neither the white armor of the Pike or the standard blue of Guldar. “Smyx, jump in against that shelf before it goes down. Get in there before there’s light and before their archers have time to shoot at you. See if you can’t turn their own tactics against them.”
“Yes, sir,” Smyx said.
Eirk tapped his claws against the wall as the Pikemen went about their job, waiting for the commotion to begin. He wouldn’t be going in there himself. Eirk wouldn’t be going in himself, and it certainly wasn’t worth the risk. Kertankuse had made it very clear he wouldn’t lose his second in command over a handful of Gassadians.
No sound came. “Any sign of them?” he called into the dark.
“No, sir!” came the reply.
Eirk cursed. That was the concern. If the Gassadians changed up their tactics, they could not really be sure how to proceed. “Pikeman advance with caution. Find them and take them out.” There were more soldiers outside the door in case the Gassadians were hiding with the intention of making a break for it.
Still, there was no sound. Eventually, Smyx emerged. “Sir, I’ve found something.”
“What is it?”
“No sign of the Gassadians yet, sir, but I found the four soldiers we lost. They’re alive. And they’ve been given medical attention.”
~~~~~
Fenny sat in the feast hall with the rest of Gassad’s castle dwellers. Of all the places to be stuck in the castle, it wasn’t the worst. It had kept them dry, at least, although there had been a distinct lack of feasting in there. They’d been told that was the fault of their own soldiers, as though they had any clue what was going on outside the feast hall.
Fenny stood up and slid her hands into the pockets she’d sewn into her skirt. She walked nonchalantly over to one of the doors to the hall and leaned her ear against it. The Guldarans weren’t keeping any troops in the room - they couldn’t afford the manpower it would take to control that many Gassadians, and there was the risk of a rush whenever they opened the doors to change shifts - but they had soldiers stationed outside every thoroughly locked door. She’d been going around eavesdropping, trying to catch any information she could about anything. She’d already gotten around that most of Gassad’s soldiers were still alive, much to the relief of many families in the room, but that was about all the significant information she’d gathered thus far.
“Man, I hope the General comes to process them soon. I’m starving. There’d better still be breakfast back in the barracks once we get dismissed.”
“Is he going to dismiss us? I heard this whole processing thing’s going to be quite the project.”
“What d’ya mean?”
“Well, he needs to figure out who everyone is. Apparently he’s trying to work leverage on families or something. He’s gonna need some able bodied people to work on fixing the wall, and we’re going to need some of their maids and cooks and whatnot. And there are a whole bunch of people in there. I mean, the castle’s huge. You know the General. He needs to make sure everything’s running smoothly. No risks and all that.”
Fenny tore her ear off the wall. That was all she needed to hear. That was big news. That was what was going to be done with everyone in the room. She started running around the room trying to find Saroune. Saroune was Colonel Nesson’s wife, and she had pretty well established herself as the matriarch in the room. She would be the one to talk to about dealing with this, and she would be the one people would pay attention to.
“Hey, Mel!” she shouted once she spotted Melusine. Melusine was sort of like a mother to Fenny. Fenny had lost both her parents, meanwhile Melusine had lost her husband in the last war and right now both her kids were in the army and unaccounted for. Fenny and Melusine’s son Fyrro were something of an item, too, on and off.
“What’s going on, Fenny?” Melusine asked.
“Have you seen Saroune? I just overheard more through that door over there.”
“Last I saw here she was up there,” Melusine pointed over towards the head of the table. “What’s going on?”
“No time! Sorry, Mel, you’ll hear soon enough!”
Fenny continued running, bobbing up and down trying to get a view over people’s heads. It was no use. Everyone was awake again, and with everyone mulling around there was no way to pick much of anyone out of the crowd. With a sigh, Fenny hopped up on the table. She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted, “Where is Saroune?” A few people close by turned to look at her, but that was all the response she got. Fenny sighed again deeply, slipped her hands back into her pockets, took in a big breath, and let out a banshee scream. That got people’s attention. The room became silent, other than the crying of small children. “I really need to talk to Saroune,” she said apologetically. “This is a seriously important matter.”
Saroune emerged from the crowd, followed closely by Ceeny, her right-hand woman. “What was your name, again?” Saroune asked as she climbed onto the tables with remarkable grace.
“Fenny. You need to hear this.”
“All right, Fenny,” Saroune said, “what is it.”
The two met and Fenny explained in a hushed tone what she had heard.
Saroune turned to Ceeny. “So either they’re going to hold us hostage to manipulate Nesson and Sarkan, or they’ll hold our husbands hostage to manipulate us.”
“That, or our kids,” Ceeny added.
Saroune turned back to Fenny. “Thank you, Fenny. You may get down, now.”
Fenny smiled disingenuously and did as she was bade. She didn’t care for being dismissed by the mouthpiece when she’d done the work.
Saroune continued to Ceeny. “So how do we deal with this?”
“I say we invoke the old Gassadian tradition of anonymity. If they don’t know who we are, they can’t effectively fight against us.”
“So long as everyone commits,” Saroune cautioned.
“Well, we either don’t let them know who we are, or we try to break out. I think we can do the first one better than the latter.”
Saroune nodded. “True. All right, let’s see if we can get everyone in here on board.”
~~~~~
Malra’s bakery had turned into quite the scene. Most of Gassad town was still shut down, but with five people in her house they had started churning out bread far faster than she ever had in the past. The sun had come out, and with it Malra had made it very clear that her shop was open. The Guldarans hadn’t checked out the area yet, and the thought of normal human interaction and the smell of fresh bread had drawn most of her neighbors by at some point.
The four from the cellars had learned quickly and they had worked out an efficient system for running the shop. By that point, they were well ahead on preparing the bread for baking, too. Seloh was still inside working the oven, and Lemina was selling the bread through the window, but Fyrro and Malra were both outside. Fligner was napping.
“This is quite the operation you’ve got going here!” one of the neighbors, about Malra’s age, said to Malra. “Where’d it all come from?”
“Well,” Malra said, “news got up to my cousins in Purcherse pretty quickly. They all booked it straight down here. They woke me up pounding on the door in the middle of the night last night!”
“They came down in the storm?” The neighbor looked surprised. “Wow, what for?”
“Well, I think the boys wanted to get out of the house and prove themselves, if you know what I mean. I’m pretty sure Lemina just pitied me, thinking about me having to put up with the three of them alone.”
“Haha, yeah, that makes sense, if my brothers are anything to go by.”
“Anyways,” Malra continued, “we figured that we ought to try and boost the morale here in town some.”
Her neighbor pointed over at Fyrro. “So, do all farm boys look like that?” she asked with a smile.
“Nope. Not even close,” Malra sighed wistfully.
The neighbor looked over at Malra cockeyed. “We’re talking about your cousin, right?”
Malra paused and then started laughing. “Oh, geez, did you think that meant? And that I sighed because? Haha, no, I was just sighing because they don’t all look like him. No, if they did, do you think I would have left Purcherse?”
The neighbor laughed. “I totally misunderstood you. I thought you were, you know, into your cousin.”
Malra chuckled a little bit more. “No, not my cousin…”
“So, how long do you think they’ll be here?”
“I honestly have no clue. They said they wanted to check up on me, but I don’t know what all that means. They might stick around for a while, or they might drag me off to Purcherse tomorrow.”
“Huh. Well do you know if he has anyone waiting for him back in Purcherse?”
Malra paused and smiled a little devious smile. “You know, I actually think he does.”
“Oh, that’s too bad.”
“I know, sorry.”
The neighbor took a step towards her door and waved to Malra. “Well, I’d better get going. Got to make lunch for my brothers. You know that feeling now, too, huh?”
Malra waved amicably. “Not yet, but I’m sure I will before tomorrow.”
~~~~~
Kertankuse sat the four freed captives from the cellars down to try and figure out where the soldiers in the cellars had disappeared to. The news that the Gassadians had somehow escaped had pulled him away from dealing with the Gassadians in the feast hall. In the meantime, he had put Kozma and Eirk in charge over there and left Smyx in charge of the continued search of the cellars.
“How many soldiers were down there?” Kertankuse asked.
The four of them glanced at each other. “Four, sir,” said one quietly.
“Not you, the Gassadians, sirrah!” Kertankuse said irately.
“Four, sir.”
Kertankuse’s nose flared and he let out a growl. The incompetence around those cellars was incredible. Still, those four weren’t the ones to berate for that incompetence. They at least hadn’t fled. “Did you catch any of their names or their ranks?”
“No, sir.”
“Any identifying traits?” Kertankuse continued.
“One of them was a woman, and one of the men was an archer. The other two just used swords.”
“She’s the one that took care of our injuries.”
“She could fight, too.”
That’s better, Kertankuse thought. There can’t be many women here who can fight and dress wounds well and aren’t accounted for. “Could you recognize her if I brought her in?”
“Yes, sir,” the one with the broken wrists said confidently.
“Good,” Kertankuse smiled. “Thank you very much. Now, head off to the infirmary, and when they give you leave, report back to duty.”
“Yes, sir!” they all said. As they headed out, Eirk entered the room.
“What is it, Eirk?” Kertankuse asked.
“More bad news, I’m afraid, sir.” Eirk closed the door quietly behind the others. “The Gassadians are not cooperating. They’re all calling themselves ‘the queen’ and demanding to see Jyron. Men, women, kids, all of them.”
Kertankuse swore. “Take me there, Eirk, I’ll see what I can do. We may need to find Slize and bring some of his soldiers over to help move through them.”
“Very well, sir.”
“Atzak is still out patrolling the town?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. Let’s hope at least that much goes well.”
~~~~~
Colonel Nesson sat stoically in the Gassadian dungeons. With hundreds of soldiers in there, the cells were packed tight, but he had been given space. Not only was he one of Gassad’s two colonels, but his son, Seloh, had disappeared in the fighting. He was presumed dead. Nearby hung Lieutenant Sarkan and two of his sons, Sergeant Wister and Captain Malkes, since Fligner, his third son, had disappeared, too. By that point they had said everything there was to be said on the matter. All they had left to do was confirm the dead. Their group was rounded out by Signa, the other Gassadian colonel. She and Nesson were now in the ones in charge in Gassad, with Jyron and Kliszer dead and the prince still abroad.
The Gassadian soldiers had not been fed since the assault. They had been brought water, which was enough to tell them that Kertankuse wanted them alive, but after a day and a half they were starting to weaken. Not just physically, too. Their situation had started to set in as the norm. After all, they couldn’t do much from where they were. Especially not with Nesson holding back from taking charge and Signa trying to deal with him and Sarkan.
The main door to the dungeons opened up and a scrawny Guldaran scurried in. There was an immediate uproar from the Gassadian captives. The Guldaran, small though he was, pulled out his sword and started hitting it against the bars of the dungeon cells ferociously. “Quiet! Quiet!” he shouted against the din, but no one did anything more than pull their hands away from where his sword was beating the bars. Eventually he reached into one of the cells and grabbed one of the prisoners by the collar. He pulled him forward and pressed his sword up against the man’s neck remorselessly. That finally got them quiet.
“I’m here to ask about any ladies in the Gassadian army,” he said, releasing the man he’d pulled forward.
“Well what would you like to know?” Signa asked, swaggering up as close to him as she could.
“Who you are, how many you are, maybe what you do,” he replied, nonchalantly.
“What do you mean, what we do?” Signa couldn’t help but snicker. The answer was obvious.
“I mean, do you actually fight, or are you all just nurses?” he asked from the center of the room.
“Why don’t you let me out of here and we’ll see just who can fight.” Signa was a big woman. She looked down on the scrawny Guldaran.
“So… What? You’re all battle wenches, are you?” He ignored her threat. “No one in here who could fix you up after a fight?” Now he was snickering at the absurdity of it.
“Not a one in here,” Signa said deliberately.
“Is there a one who’s not in here?” His voice dropped and he walked over to her.
“Are you telling me you guys haven’t found your way to the infirmary yet?” Signa said to her comrades, and they laughed.
The Guldaran cut to a business-like tone. “I’m asking if there’s anyone who can both make a wound and bind one up.”
“No, there isn’t,” Signa said, even more deliberate now.
“What’s her name?” he asked with a smile.
“I just told you there’s no one who-”
“I wasn’t asking you,” he said as he turned away. “Is there anyone in there who wants some food, or even out of here?”
“Do you really think any of us would answer any question?” Signa said with such force it pulled the Guldaran back around to her. “None of us in here are traitors - well, except you - and even if we were traitors, none of us are dumb enough - well, except you - to announce that we are and then try to wade our way through a sea of old allies.”
“Come again?” he asked.
“In case you forgot, we beat back the Neumorians here as Teldurans and allies.”
The Guldaran walked up so close to her that she could feel his breath.“Well, if we’re old allies, then what harm can a name do? Among friends.”
Signa didn’t let the conversation stay intimate.“What harm could a king do, among friends, or a general, or a bowl of soup?” she appealed to the rest of the prisoners. “Get out, and tell your general, next time send someone a little subtler. The woman you’re looking for does not exist.” He raised his sword up at her. She simply stepped back out of reach. The man scowled and gave her a little sniff, then sheathed his sword and left the dungeons, and the roars built up again. Signa turned to Nesson and Sarkan. “Well, it looks like your sons managed to get something done. If Guldar’s looking for Lemina, they might still be alive.”
