XLVIII. Seasons Change

Aichlan stood before his window, and watched the snow swirl and blanket the already frozen landscape below. The blizzard was unexpected, though not entirely unheard of in this region and season. He took a drink from his mug of coffee and gagged, surprised at the amount of alcohol therein. That would be the last time he allowed Maleah to prepare him a drink. He basked in the silence and warmth of the crackling fire as he reflected on all that had happened so far in his journey.

Three weeks had passed since Fiora left for Sorn. Reports had just arrived that the cities along the nation’s border were now free of dusk spawn, and a small garrison was left behind to secure them till the main army arrived. He wanted to be with her, leading the charge into Aglaë, however he knew it was not possible. Many of his army was still recovering from the last battle, and Ashe was in no position to be traveling. He needed to stay; fortunately, his officers understood his position. Despite this, he couldn’t help but feeling selfish.

Aichlan grimaced as he forced down more of Maleah’s ‘coffee’, as soon as the storms died down, Donough would lead a company of his soldiers to rendezvous with Fiora. His recovery had been swift, and aside from massive scarring, he seemed fit and ready. Aichlan was suddenly roused from his moment of reflection by a knock at the door. He looked to the massive grandfather clock and frowned in slight annoyance.

“Yes, yes, it’s open.” The door opened, and Admiral Donnellyn stepped in, smoking on a pipe. “Francis, it’s been some time, I feared you wouldn’t be able to make it.”

“Ne’er miss a chance to rob a bloke blind.” Francis took a seat by the fire. “So, how ya been boyo? Enjoyin’ da high life much?”

Aichlan smirked as he set down his cup on an end table. “Not at all. Yourself?”

Francis exhaled a cloud of smoke and chewed on the tip of his pipe. “Don’ know if its da people or da wea-der, dis land ain’t fit fer our ilk.”

“Perhaps both.” Aichlan laughed as he took a seat. “I find myself far too restless for the nobility, and never was one for snow. I’m certain you’d much rather sail off inta the sunsets yourself.”

Francis guffawed, evoking a smirk from Aichlan. “Yer fire eatin’ buddies o’ Rhode were right about yuh boy; you are a hopeless romantic!”

Another knock came, though this time they didn’t wait for a response. Aichlan looked up as Taryn and Madden entered, bundled in furs. Taryn shed her coat and tossed it on a side chair as she made her way to the fireplace. Aichlan stood to welcome his guests, but was met with a grunt as she took his seat. Madden picked up her coat and hung it upon the rack along with his own before joining them by the fire.

“’lo there Gen’ral, Admiral.” He said with a nod as he rubbed his hands to warm them. “Alice not ‘ere yet?”

“’Fraid not.” Aichlan replied.

“Ain’t no titles ‘ere lad, jus’ a couple o’ fool Aes Sidheans far from ‘ome is all.” Francis scolded.

“Where’s Odell?” Aichlan usually heard him by this point.

“’Wit’ tha Princess…” Madden replied as Taryn scoffed.

“I ‘eard da boy’s gettin’ married.” Francis added. “Seems ‘e forgot mi invite.”

“That’s because you weren’t invited.” Everyone looked up as Alice walked through a void of crackling electricity in the middle of the room. “And who could blame him?”

She waved her hand, sealing the void as she continued walking, spirals of electricity and sparks shot out, then quickly dissolved. Aichlan watched in confusion as the sparks bounced on the stone floor before fizzled out. Taryn nearly fell out of her chair at the mage's sudden appearance and Madden made the sign of Dawn.

Alice withdrew a scroll from thin air from before her, and thrust it at Aichlan. She flicked her hair from her face and crossed her arms over her chest. He could not shake the feeling that she was a teacher about to scold him in her elegant formal academy wear.

“What is this?” Aichlan stammered, still reeling from her unexpected entrance.

“A message from Aes Sidhe,” she replied flatly. “They have decided to move through Arlien at the first thaw.”

“Arlien?” Aichlan echoed as he unrolled the scroll.

“Oi, ‘ow’d you walk through air luv?” Taryn ventured, still shaken.

“Look who’s signed it.” Alice said angrily as she jabbed a finger at the scroll.

“Ceolsige?”

Alice shook her head in disbelief. “It’s a ruse.”

“How can you be sure?” Aichlan asked as he scrutinized the signature, though not seeing what she was talking about.

“My cousin is fond of cyphers. You may not be aware of it, but the way he signs a document gives valuable insight on his feelings about it. This document screams of ‘fuck it’, which means he’s probably doing something else in the background.”

Aichlan found himself at a loss for words as he looked from Alice to the signature and back again. It looked like any other signature, he certainly didn’t read anything she was getting out of it.

“Are you sure?” Aichlan asked testily. “It seems like a pretty standard marching order to me…”

Alice snatched the paper back. “Of course I’m sure.”

“We still playin’ cards or…”

“In a moment Madden.” Aichlan said with a sigh and leaned back in his chair. “So is this a fake?”

“Yes and no, the Aes Sidhean army will be marching north through Arlien, though I don’t know why. My father most likely wanted to march through Sorn in search of me, and that likely didn’t sit well with the others. Though this is all conjecture, I am fairly certain that was the case.”

“And this means?” Aichlan asked, hoping she would clarify further.

“They’re looking for me, and probably you as well.” Alice huffed. “It’s all fairly obvious.”

“Pardon?” Aichlan asked as he lit up a cigar. “Who's looking for us?”

“Gods!” Alice swore as she threw up her hands. “The army, my cousin, everyone! Their stalling so they can comb the countryside for us. Likely my father’s doing.”

Francis exhaled a cloud of smoke. “The firs’ thaw won’ t be happenin’ fer a while yet, dat leaves our Sorn lass marchin’ straight to da viper pit all alone.”

Aichlan furrowed his brow and exhaled a cloud of smoke. Of all the times for his home kingdom to mount a rescue, this was the most ill-timed. He shouldn’t have been surprised, given who the concerned nobles were, but it was going to create a mess nevertheless. The intel provided by Siegrun had put the Alliance forces arriving significantly earlier, otherwise he wouldn’t have even bothered to send a scouting party ahead. Fiora was walking into what was essentially a trap, and he had no expedient way of sending the order to halt.

“No, I will lead--”

“You’ll do no such thing.” Taryn interrupted. “You can’t just run in anytime something changes; it’s insulting to yer troops and damn foolish. What if you die? Then what? You were a General before these messes started weren’t you? Didn’t you learn anything?”

Aichlan remained silent; he ground his teeth in anger and embarrassment. Taryn remained unapologetic as she looked Aichlan directly in the eyes. The most infuriating part was that she was mostly correct. However, that didn’t change the fact that he didn’t need some rural archer from southern Sorn telling him that.

“You’re needed here Aichlan, you seem to be the only qualified strategist in this army.” Alice sighed. “Light knows Eth couldn’t take your place.”

Aichlan leaned forward and folded his hands before his face. “If that’s the case, speed will be of the essence. Maleah’s riders would be preferable; however most of them are with Fiora.”

“Then send Maleah, she can get the message to ‘er.” Francis said through a spate of coughing.

“No, she can’t.” Taryn interrupted, looking slightly unnerved when all attention shifted to her. “We’re guests of honor at the wedding.”

Several moments of silence passed before Alice sheepishly raised her hand. “Actually, so am I.”

“…As am I.” Aichlan grumbled, having nearly forgotten.

“I’m the best man.” Madden added proudly.

“We need more horsemen.” Aichlan picked up his mug as he leaned back. “Any of your men ever rode Taryn?”

“Not fer anything’ more’n plowin’ mate, the broads offered us some soljars, but the whole bloody kingdom’s comin’ out fer tha’ weddin’.”

“It seems we didn’t plan for this contingency, though we certainly should have seen it coming.” Alice swept a free strand of hair from her face. “I’m surprised we didn’t come across any communiqué and supply issues earlier.”

“Kinda didn’t ‘ave time ta worry ‘bout that kind o’ shit luv.” Taryn said as she joined Madden on the sofa.

“Vengeance fueled our resolve, and the pace has been breakneck since the onset of this campaign. No military force can continue as we have for prolonged periods of time.” Aichlan grimaced as he finished the dregs of his now lukewarm coffee. “Our men are run ragged, our forces still aren’t properly organized, and I just thinned our fighting strength even more. The fool I’ve been.”

Aichlan crossed the room to refill his mug; he held it up to see if anyone else wanted any. Francis raised his pipe as he blew several smoke rings. Alice shook her head ‘no’ as he filled a second mug.

“Hardly.” Aichlan looked up to see Taryn resting her head upon Madden's lap as she idly bounced her foot over the armrest. “As you’ve said, hate fueled resolve and a sense of urgency brought this about. All we can do is regroup and recollect. Fate has given us that luxury it seems, pray it holds.”

Aichlan handed Francis his mug as he went back to his own seat. The group remained silent as they pondered their predicament. Alice sat on the armrest of Aichlan’s armchair, chewing on her thumbnail. She suddenly bolted upright with a shout, startling everyone. Aichlan spewed his coffee as he spilled the contents of his mug on his lap and tunic.

“Bloody!” Aichlan swore as he stood, the fresh coffee in his mug pooled on the floor.

“I know what we can do!”

“Light lass!” Taryn buried her face in a decorative pillow to stifle her laughs.

“There were these men; they arrived right after the liberation of the eastern half of the kingdom. I can’t be certain, but they seemed like soldiers, or at least mercenaries.”

Aichlan removed his tunic as he continued to swear. “I bloody well doubt it Alice. Every man and damn near every child has been drafted to this kingdom's defense.”

Alice wrinkled her nose with irritation and followed Aichlan as he went to change. “They just arrived, I don’t know where they came from, they sorta wandered in with the rest of the refugees. I know what I saw Aichlan! The least you can do is say you’ll look into it!”

Aichlan angrily snatched a pair of trousers from his wardrobe and made his way to the bathroom to change. Alice remained right on his heels, undeterred by his silence. He stepped into the bathroom and attempted to close the door on the young irate mage. In response, she drew a wind rune and blasted the door open before it shut, slamming it into the wall. He sighed as the door slowly swung back, the glare he gave Alice was as a parent would a child throwing a tantrum.

“ ‘Twas no more than a gust.” She spat back.

“Alice.” He warned.

She crossed her arms across her chest. A sound escaped her lips, imperceptible and indecipherable to all but a select few. It was the sound of the crashing waves upon the rocks, mingled with a gull’s shrill cry as it soared over the sawgrass and dunes. A shiver ran down his spine and he found himself briefly immobile, his eyes unfocused, and all he could see was Alice, standing there looking at him.

When his senses returned, it was as if nothing had happened. It was as if time had frozen briefly. He wanted desperately to be angry, to shout and to curse at her, but he could not. He felt a wave of passivity wash over him. It was not an unfamiliar feeling; he had felt it often in his youth. His mother could use that sound, his name, his true name, to both console and threaten.

It had happened so many years ago, back on one of his father’s trips to the capitol. She had forced it out of him under threat of telling Garrick he had mistreated her. The true name of a fey was given by the mother, and known only by her and in some cases, their lover. It held power, and in the wrong hands, could kill. How the hell did she remember that?

“How many of them were there?” he relented.

“How many are in a battalion?” she replied with a smug grin.

Aichlan sighed. “Madden, care to check out our sponsors claims?”

“Uh…certainly, but where do I begin my search? There’s plenty o’ blokes runnin’ round this city.”

“Is there some sort of place where their ilk congregate? Some sort of tavern mayhap?” Alice queried aloud to any who would listen, though she was met by silence and looks of irritation. “I’m certain Ransom would know…”

“Ransom isn’t here,” Aichlan grumbled as he doffed his stained trousers. “Francis,”

“Aye lad.” The Admiral replied with a knowing nod.

Aichlan fastened his belt as he crossed the room. “Madden, you’re to go with the Admiral tomorrow, scout every tavern, pub and gutter for Alice’s ‘mercenaries’.”

“Why’d you say it like that?” Alice shot back, only becoming more irritated at being ignored.

“And Miss Fiora?” Madden asked, flinching slightly at the realization of his casual reference to the Major.

“I shall relay a message to one of my pupils traveling with her in the morning.” Alice replied, not willing to be left out of further discussion.

Aichlan groaned, though remained silent. Why she referred to them as her ‘protégés’ and ‘pupils’ when many were several years her senior was baffling to him and everyone else in this army. What was more baffling however was the fact that the mages went along with it without complaint. Perhaps Alice was a natural leader in some regard, or perhaps the experience she gained on the journey so far had given validity to some of her arrogant claims, and the other students picked up on it. Whatever the case, the night was not yet done, and there were cards to be played, and money to be lost.