A month had passed since the beginning of the war and it was now early June. To everybody’s surprise the grand duchy had managed to smuggle some of its soldiers through the other march, something completely unprecedented. It was unheard of that a country didn’t try to bring the denizens of the local other march on their side but brought denizens of their own otherworldly realm instead. Contrarily, the Mérovian warfare was according to standard.

Invaders coming through the other march meant a lot of work for the margravial house and its retainers. Avallach was in a state of emergency. The normally so lively market was shut down, used instead to provide place for tents offering shelter for the refugees which came in huge numbers. It was quite normal that conflicts in the other march led to its denizens seeking refuge in the human world but the previously unseen extent this time around was a clear indicator for just how much the present war upset the fragile equilibrium in the other march, changing it forever. Apparently Grand Duke Svyatoslav the Great didn’t aim just for some Yteish territory but for complete control of the other march all the same, anticipating the idea Gervase tried to make reality in Violant’s last lifetime.

Regarding Violant, at the present she was at one of the many borders of the other march, precisely at a river in the East of the duchy of Ealdon which was both part of the human world and the otherworld at the same time. The young lady of course wasn’t alone. Sitting on Huwcyn like some dashing military commander, she stood at the head of a troop of mixed origins. Soldiers and knights from the Avallach garrison – elites carefully selected by Sir Thopas on request of Margrave Orderic – were part of it as well as a good part of the wild hunt, among them both Rambold and Waldolf. They were completed by exiled warriors from the other march who had promised their participation to end this war for good and to reclaim the areas they had been expelled from.

Although Banadietrich would have loved to provide his liege all help possible, in the end he only sent her about a third of the demonic host. That was because Mt. Hackelberg and the wild hunt were under attack themselves. An army of leshys was an urgent problem at the moment. Violand had expressed her understanding, as ultimately the stability of the other march was indispensable for the stability of Yteland. The nachtjäger nonetheless had promised to join her side with the rest of his force as soon as the crisis had passed.

The attackers Violant and her men faced were no leshys – it would be really curious if those forest dwellers were able to attack from underwater after all – but vodyanois instead. Those fat scaly men had a sorrowful look in their eyes from which it was easy to infer that they didn’t participate voluntarily in this war, but since they were attacking with vigor the girl decided not to spare them no matter the reason behind the vodyanois’ desperation. What had happened back in the grand duchy was out of her control after all.

“Don’t allow them to climb up the riverbank.” the redhead ordered “No need to use your swords. Our goal is repelling the invaders while holding low the numbers of casualties on our side. The margraviate army is seriously understaffed these days after all, making each of your lives more precious than ever. Act like you have been taught to. And now: Release!”

Following those words, Violant’s warriors didn’t take up their arms but opened big bags instead, pouring the liquid content inside down the riverbank and over the attacking vodyanois. The latter were confused and slipped on the liquid but they thought that was all it could do, being nothing more than a futile effort to slow them down.

But imagine their shock when next burning torches were tossed down on them, igniting the liquid which immediately engulfed the invaders in merciless flames that were able to even burn on the water without going out. This so called “troll fire”, a kind of Greek fire, was one of Arinnefja’s many inventions. The Vodyanois had no chance to escape the flames that even water couldn’t extinguish and died miserably. The few who were able to escape back to the other march were so lastingly demoralized that they didn’t dare attack Violant a second time.

All of a sudden the sound of applause could be heard.

“Quite the sight, I must say. You never fail to surprise me, Lady Violant. It is a very innovative weapon; that is for sure.” a deep voice said.

Turning around, Violant found herself eye to eye with Prince Wynkin. The youngest Prince was now fifteen years old and taller and brawnier than ever. One and a half heads taller than a normal man, the still sane berserk was an intimidating sight. The mountain of muscles that came with his constitution would surely make it difficult for him to find a fiancée who was willing to marry him in the future; the more so as his social debut was scheduled to happen in October if all went well. Presently the prince actively engaged in warfare. With Parcie as a tutor it was no wonder that a boy who had never lifted a weapon before as recent as two years ago became a gifted warrior, especially since his constitution was outright made for things like this. In fact Wynkin went to battle with a broadsword so big and heavy that three grown men had serious trouble lifting it. That was one of the perks of being a berserk after all.

Even now Wynkin was said to be on the battlefield in the marquisate of Nussex, thus leading to Violant’s Uncle Barnabas joining the Edric-Wynkin faction since he was more than grateful for the help he got from the eighth prince. It was Wynkin who had singlehandedly taken back a good part of Nussex from the grand duchy, although its capital Perriton wasn’t among the retrieved territories yet.

“Thank you for the compliment, Your Highness.” Violant replied “When did you return to Ealdon? I believed you to be still fighting in Nussex.”

“That I did until recently and that I will do again quite soon.” Wynkin answered “I am here on official business, quasi as a messenger of my brother Edric and I need your help since it is quite urgent.”

“I will listen to what you have come for.” the red-haired girl agreed “But I believe we shouldn’t do so out here. Let us talk in detail after our return to Ealdon. I am billeted in Whitehill Castle for now.”

“That is convenient, for so am I.” declared the prince “You are right. Let us talk later. I also do not want to deny rest for you and your victorious troops. Only well rested fighters can successfully reclaim Yteland’s territories and honor after all.”

Thus Prince Wynkin returned to Ealdon together with Violant, ready to relay her his message afterwards.