Thonk!

Hack!

Crunch!

“Look out!”

Smash!

The Lightning battalion was hard at work. Men and women, Alavari and humans, played a chorus of tools on the road and the trees around it. Teams of orcs and the strongest humans cut down trees. Others broke road tiles and dug potholes in the road.

Frances was running up and down the road, lending her magic wherever she was needed. If a tree needed to be chopped, she was there to make sure it fell the right way. That is, onto the road, barring the way forward. If tiles had to be ripped up, Frances was there to loosen them.

It was hot, sweaty work, but Frances had to admit, it was fun breaking things.

Ayax and to Frances’s surprise, Elizabeth, were probably having the most fun. Sleeves rolled up, sledgehammers in hand, the pair were wailing on flagstones, cracking them for their soldiers to flip the tiles over and dig potholes underneath them. The goal wasn’t to break every tile but to break enough so that whatever wagon or person walking over the road was going to have an extremely uncomfortable ride. Giggling like children from behind the scarves they wore on their faces, the two girls sent shards of stone flying as they broke tiles with the heavy hammers.

The scarfs were actually Frances’s idea. Every one of their soldiers were told to make scarves to wrap around their faces so that any flying shards of stone wouldn’t hurt them. Despite the idea being widely applauded, Frances already had to heal several injuries related to the road destruction.

Not everybody was devoted to the “roughening” of the road, though. Martin and Ginger had fifty soldiers each watching the road from different ends. There was no sense in being reckless after all.

Yet, as the sun set, the work continued, and even after they’d broken up almost half a kilometre of road, they weren’t interrupted. At least, not until the very end, when Ginger, who’d been leading the northern group, reported their scouts seeing another battalion of soldiers marching down the main road.

They’d vacated the site quickly, rushing into the trees. Everybody knew pretty much where to go. Frances went to Ginger, but in the end, they didn’t even need to engage. Everybody had gotten clear and Ginger pulled her troops into the forest. They’d marched back to their camp, alert, but ecstatic. After the victorious ambush, and now the destruction of the main road through the eastern Pinewoods, everybody’s morale was high. So, Martin and Ginger had come to Frances that night asking for a favour.

“Martin, Ginger, I’m happy to help you, but aren’t there… non-magic methods for preventing pregnancy in Durannon?” Frances asked, crossing her arms. She wasn’t annoyed, but… nervous. She didn’t want Martin to have an accident with Ginger, but at the same time, she was very tired after the roadwork today. And yet… she didn’t want to deny her friend help if they needed it.

Ginger looked away, blushing. “Oh, sorry. Yeah, today’s been pretty rough. We can go without tonight.”

Frances winced. “If you really have to—”

Martin chuckled and waved her off. “We don’t need you to Frances, but we do appreciate it when you help. It’s just the other option is not… well, in a word, it’s odd.”

“Odd how?” Frances asked.

Ginger fished from inside her sweater, a thin line of rope tied to several beads. Frances could see they were charmed from the slight unnatural sheen they had. Martin pulled up his sleeve and showed Frances a similar set of beads around a string.

“Anti-fertility charms. Reliable, but… unlike a well-cast spell, they make the actual experience feel very odd, and bad charms make things downright uncomfortable.” Ginger glared at hers. “Mine especially.”

“Would you like me to—”

“Nah, it’s alright, Frances. Get some rest.” Ginger winked. “Maybe you’d find someone to warm your bed tonight.”

Frances’s expression froze and Martin, sighing, put his hand to his forehead.

Ginger glanced between the two. “I… fucked up something didn’t I?”

“Do I have permission to explain?” Martin asked.

“Yeah, but try not to. I… just have fun, Martin, okay?”

“Alright, talk to you tomorrow,” said Martin.

Frances waved the pair away, watching as Martin whispered something to Ginger. Probably about how she had an unrequited crush on a Prince of the Alavari. Oh, and that she was also really shy about touch. It’d taken a half-year before Edana could touch her shoulder without Frances flinching.

She was much better about being touched now. A hand on her shoulder didn’t make her flinch or back away. But the idea of someone’s hands on her body, where not even her tyrannical biological mom ever touched… those thoughts sent cold, and hot shivers down her spine.

Retreating to a spot beside her tent, Frances sat down, and from her backpack, pulled out a thin journal, quill, and inkpot. She needed to think, to compose her thoughts. She hadn’t had much time to journal of late. Her last entry was before they’d left Erlenberg. Taking a deep breath, she wrote:

Dear Diary

It’s been a while. We… we’re fighting the Alavari again. The Army of Erlenberg was defeated, but we’re still fighting. We’ve done all we could, though, so we’re heading back to Erlenberg. We… as in, like… our battalion, now led by Elizabeth. They, the soldiers we have collected after our defeat, and a company of convict soldiers who were assigned to us, have called themselves the Lightning Battalion. I mean, I… it’s not good to be vain, but I was really touched.

I… I still have a crush on Timur. I miss him. I wish he was around to just… talk, tease me, make me laugh.

I also sometimes wonder if he’d want to do… other things with me. Hold me in his arms. Touch me. Make love to me.

Like that’s going to happen. I mean… Edana doesn’t lie. I do look a lot like other Erisdalian women. Ginger, she’s the leader of the convict soldiers, also said I look beautiful and since she isn’t my mom, it’s easier to believe her. But… if you had eyes, Diary, you’d still think I have a child’s body. I mean, I think Elizabeth’s chest is larger than mine now.

It’s just… hard to think that I’d be desirable, diary. My bio-mom always called me ugly, and worthless. Dan, he never looked at me with any lust. He just liked to hurt me.

Frances paused, frowning. Now that she read what she wrote, it occurred to her that perhaps using her evil biological mother and her stepfather as references for whether she was pretty or not was a bad idea.

Then why did she still feel that she was so ugly? Even when people around her said she was not? Was this just… something that she couldn’t change about herself?

Diary, what if… what if I’m always going to feel ugly? I… I know what my parents did to me has changed me, but I’ve improved. What if I can’t change what I feel about my own body?”

Frances tried to write more, but she couldn’t. The thought that she’d always be ugly, think she was unworthy of love, warred with the idea that she had always been worthless. Shutting her diary, she wiped her eyes.

“Hey, Frances.”

She didn’t recognize that voice and sprang to her feet, hand on Ivy’s Sting, but she quickly relaxed. There was a human soldier, a youth perhaps a little older than her, standing in front of her. He was for some reason, smirking slightly.

“Name’s Sam. Sam Weaver.” He bowed, still smirking. “I was wondering if you’d like company tonight in your bedroll. I can promise you a good time.”

Frances’s mind came to a screeching halt, and the world tilted. She spluttered and somehow managed to clear her throat with a cough.

“Why?”

Sam shrugged in what he thought was casual, but came off as somewhat stiff. “Does there need to be a reason? Two people, needing to burn some stress, and feel good?”

“But why me?” Frances narrowed her eyes. Years of reading body language to brace herself against hits allowed her to notice that Sam’s body was twisted, not facing her. He was trying not to look over his shoulder.

Sam blinked. “You’re pretty, smart, and really cool. What’s not to like?”

What’s not to like? What’s not to like?

Frances stared at the youth, and then looked over his shoulder. Behind him, watching him, were a group of other youths, boys and girls of similar age, watching from behind a tent. All of them were staring, a few were grinning, some were in disbelief, others were pumping their fists.

“Are you sure you weren’t asking because you made a bet with your friends?” Frances glared back at Sam, noting his smirk fade away. His eyes wide, he shook his head. “No? Oh so you were egged on, or forced to do it?”

“Um… Well, kinda? I mean, you’re pretty and nice?”

Frances forced herself to breathe, forced her mask back on her features. She did not, however, hide the bitter rage that choked her throat.

“You know, if you were actually serious about asking me for a one night stand, I might have actually considered it.” She wiped her eyes but didn’t look away from Sam’s horror-struck look. “But if you were going to treat this as a joke, then I can only do so in kind.”

Frances was shorter than Sam, but as she leaned forward, he stumbled back.

“And thus, I won’t even dignify your question with an answer.” She strode forward, Sam backed away, only to be brushed aside by the tip of Ivy’s Sting. Frances strode to the band of miscreants hiding behind the tent, shock-still.

“And as for you? I thought you were his friends.”

Sam’s friends winced or looked away ashamedly, as Frances turned on her heels and walked away. She forced herself to walk slowly, trying not to raise her arm to wipe her eyes, which now filled with bitter tears.

Frances had found a thick, chopped down tree stump to sit herself on. She’d cried there, soaking her shirt for what seemed like ages.

Frances hadn’t even considered Sam was sincere, and she’d been right. Well, she’d been wrong about being pretty. If anything, it seemed that tonight’s events were underlining what she’d begun to realize. She did have looks that people found attractive. However, she’d never feel that way.

That was somehow worse than actually being ugly. Nobody would approach her if she was ugly, but she wasn’t. No, she was pretty. But emotionally? Mentally? Who’d want someone who was pretty, but thought she was ugly? Who’d want some crying moron who couldn’t believe in herself? Who’d want someone who didn’t want anybody to touch her? Would Timur want her?

Timur… he always kept returning to her thoughts, and not for the first time, Frances wondered what if the only person she was comfortable about laying in bed with, reaching under her shirt, touching her

What if he rejected her too?

“Frances?”

Frances sniffed. “Ayax?”

Her cousin shuffled in beside her but didn’t touch her, just like how Frances preferred it. Just the way that no partner ever would prefer.

“Cuz, I heard what happened. I’m so sorry—”

“There’s nothing to be sorry about. Some idiot was trying to pull a prank. I suffered for it because I’m an emotional mess.”

“Cuz?” Ayax whispered, her voice suddenly fragile. Frances winced, she didn’t mean for it to come out that way. But she… she shouldn’t ask her cousin to help her with this. Not when Ayax was already pining for a girl who didn’t know whether to reciprocate her feelings.

Frances breathed out. “Sorry. Don’t worry about it, Ayax. I can’t change what I can’t change. I am a mess, crushing on an Alavari Prince, and because of that, I’ll probably never have someone.”

Ayax spluttered, “Cuz you can’t—”

“Ayax… thank you, I know you’re trying to help, but… I should accept this and move on.” Frances rose to her feet, wiping her eyes as she did so. She could see Ayax’s shoulders sag, but the troll didn’t leave.

“Frances you have changed, though,” Ayax said. She reached out to touch Frances’s hand. “You also promised me that you wouldn’t give up.” Frances accepted the four-fingered hand, trying not to sniffle. But a gentle tug on her fingers led her to sit down beside her cousin, who wrapped her arms around her.

“Yes, but I’ve always known there are some things that I won’t be able to change. This is probably one of them.” The ice in her heart ached, but Frances knew that was only because it was true. “It takes two people to make a couple after all.”

The Lightning Battalion packed up and as Elizabeth said to the understanding of only Frances, “Make like the Road Runner and leave Wile E. Coyote in our dust.”

They used the main road. It was unlikely they were going to be followed after all, especially after the carnage they inflicted on the road behind them. So with their four wagons (they captured a few from the battalion they ambushed), the three hundred and thirty odd group marched down the road.

Of course, they weren’t going to make the same mistake as the battalion they’d ambushed. Ayax and Ginger led the column with about a hundred of their soldiers as scouts and all of the cavalry. They made absolutely sure to clear the sides of the woods as their group trundled on.

That left Frances in the middle with Elizabeth. Both were walking on foot, examining a map that Frances was levitating in front of them.

“We’ll get out of the Pinewoods by noon of the second day according to our progress so far. However, we’ll have to stop to rest then.” Elizabeth pointed to a green marked area south of the Eastern Pinewoods. “There is about a day’s march across flat fields before we get to Erlenberg. If we keep marching on the second day, we’ll have to camp out in the open.”

Frances nodded, but she glanced at her friend with a curious look. “Elizabeth, you already mentioned this at the meeting. Is there something we should be concerned about?”

The Korean girl didn’t answer at first, and neither did she turn to meet her friend’s eye. She kept peering at the map as if looking for something. “I’m honestly wondering if we should risk camping out in the open.”

“It would get us to Erlenberg faster,” said Frances. She hummed another small aria to keep the map floating. “But as you said, it’s risky. Why are you considering it now?”

“Well, if I’m being honest, Frances… I kind of expected us to be under constant attack by General Antipades’s forces once we reached the Pinewoods. But we’ve seen a few companies, a battalion, nothing like the horde he brought to the battle on the Aijin Fields. I swore that we’d be interrupted when we started breaking down the road, but the fact that we weren't… it’s making me nervous.”

It was a good question and now that her friend had said it, Frances felt a chill running down her spine.

“They have to be somewhere else then.” She thought back a few years ago to Vertingen, and to what she knew about General Antipades from the conversations she’d picked up with her mother and others. “We do know that General Antipades is good at surprises. That’s how he nearly destroyed the Lapanterian Legion. He brought orc cavalry over to reinforce General Berengaria when Prince Stefan didn’t expect him to.”

Elizabeth nodded. “Igraine also mentioned he’s a veteran commander. If I remember correctly, he started commanding cavalry and was a general even before the war started.”

“Hasn’t he been defeated several times?” Frances asked.

“At great cost, or by no fault of his own. Usually by some unexpected development.” Elizabeth frowned. “That’s why I’m beginning to think it’s… it’s too weird that we weren’t attacked so much in the Pinewoods. I was betting that his army needed to recover a bit more after the Battle of the Aijin Fields, but he had to guess that we’d sabotage the road. So why didn’t he use his cavalry to patrol it?”

Frances frowned, trying to imagine where in the Pinewoods the enemy cavalry could be but… the forest, though small on the map, seemed so large.

She closed her eyes for a second and when she opened them, she tried to take in the entire map, with all its features: Erlenberg to the south, the Silverstream River running through the Pinewoods, the fields south of the Pinewoods which were called The Onin Fields, and finally the sea to their right.

Frances knew that General Antipades wanted to take Erlenberg and quickly before the Human Kingdoms could reinforce the city properly. Yet, the orc general was not rushing it as he was clearly trying to widen the roads because he knows the sea was closed to him. So how would be most quickly deal with a battalion-sized unit of enemies in the Pinewoods?

“Elizabeth, I think we ought to make a run for it as fast as we can. I think he intends to catch us on the fields. Or flush us out with overwhelming force,” said Frances.

“I was thinking the same thing.” Elizabeth pointed to the Onin Fields and then to the Silverstream. “There is a bridge over the Silverstream here that he could use to get his cavalry over. It’s a small bridge, but he could move troops over there.”

“So we run for it. Alright.” Frances’s eyes followed the river down to Erlenberg, where she suddenly had a thought. “I’m also going to make a call to Grandma. They know we’re heading back to Erlenberg, maybe they can give us some information on what we might face.”

“Good idea. Why don’t you get on the cart? I’ll keep the map,” said Elizabeth.

Frances handed the map to her friend with a murmured thanks and leapt onto the cart, finding a spot amongst the supplies. She pulled out her mirror and focused on her grandmother.

It wasn’t Eleanor’s voice that swam into view, but one of Ayax’s fathers, Dom, a tailor. He blinked in surprise.

“Frances!”

“Hello, Dom. I was wondering if you get a message to Grandma Eleanor and the commanders of Erlenberg City. Have they figured out who is in charge by the way?”

“That would be Alex, my husband. He took over two days ago,” said Dom.

“Excuse me?” Frances asked, remembering the quiet, and yet professional troll who was quite like Ayax in many ways. He was the head of the Windwhistler’s security forces, but the last place she’d expected him to be was at the head of the siege.

“Yeah. He’s not mentioned it much to us, but in his mercenary career, he fought some siege battles. Little proxy wars fought within Alavaria, Erisdale, Roranoak and Lapanteria between different feudal families. He’s not commanded a garrison as large as a city, but he’s the only man who has any siege experience.” Dom sighed. “He didn’t want the job. Didn’t say why, but with things so dire, he asked Eleanor to put him in a meeting with the rest of the city’s council and they agreed.”

“Alright. Ask if he can let us know what we might be facing when we exit the Pinewoods. We really need to know that as soon as possible and if the city’s forces can provide us with support.

“Got it, anything else? And um… how’s Ayax?”

“She’s good. And no, that’s it. I’ll get her for you,” said Frances, hopping off the wagon to look for her cousin.

The second day of their march began like the first. Wagons trundling, soldiers marching, and the scouts leading the way.

Only, just after they set off, Frances felt her mirror shake. She opened it to see a large room of faces.

“Frances, where are you and the Lightning Battalion?” Alexander asked the troll’s dark eyes stern, his figure hunched over towards the mirror.

“A day’s march before we leave the Eastern Pinewoods.” Frances didn’t need to ask what was wrong. She could tell by the serious looks on the faces she recognized, like that of Alexander’s, Eleanor’s, and Edana’s older brother Eustace, and those she didn’t.

One of these new faces, a female centaur, leaned forward. “Miss Windwhistler, we’ve sighted Alavari orc cavalry in the Onin Fields, north of Erlenberg. They’ve cut you off from Erlenberg.”