“Bless the Roseborn!”

Men were chanting and tossing Anna into the air. I hooted and clapped with them, basking in the glory of a fresh victory that this maiden had delivered. Her minions, or the soldiers of the past days, stood in ranks and quietly watched the scene, their faces hidden by visors and helmets and wide brims of hardhats. Reminiscing, perhaps.

Someone tapped me on the shoulder, to which I turned my smiling face around. It was Comte d’Armas. Behind him was Victor with a pale face. Evidently, the man couldn’t handle the blood and gore that were spread across the snow-covered field.

“The young Lady has a lot to explain!”

The Comte shouted over the noise.

“In due time, milord!”

The Comte eyed me a bit, but then from the corner of his vision, the old man spotted Sieur Henry. He hurried over to the sieur-knight.

“My good Sieur! You rode in just at the right time!” said Comte d’Armas, patting on the younger man’s back. “I could not have broken through otherwise.”

“In all fairness, my Lord, I ride where and when the Lady points,” the humble Sieur answered. “It is thus Lady Anna, not I, who has shattered Chartoise.”

“Indeed,” the Comte nodded in satisfaction, yet his eyes were puzzled. He had known Anna was a good shot with her bow. He had seen her sword art. But spawning a whole battle of soldiers and riders? Commandeering an ad-hoc army against an enemy double our strength? Anna was beyond being extraordinary. The feat she had achieved this night was in the realm of miracles. Preceded by she herself miraculously coming back from being dead. Obviously, a lot of questions needed to be answered. But for now, the Comte and Sieur Henry silently eyed hoisted Anna. The young lady shrieked and laughed and flailed as many hands tossed her into the air again and again.

“Thank God, it is over,” a familiar voice approached. It was Commandant Antoine. He had a mixed expression on his face, that of both relief and agony.

“For the love of God, could we please refrain from setting foods and woods ablaze?” Antoine lamented. “I’ve sent my men to salvage what we can, but… what a waste!”

Ah, yes. Chartoise’s siege camp was burning. Along with provisions and supplies that were enough to feed a thousand men and keep them warm for days. Having seen his own supplies destroyed by the hands of my Anna not too long ago, Antoine was, understandably, frustrated. Fort Soilet indeed had many mouths to feed and an equal number of bodies to keep warm.

“Is the Commandant implying that the God’s Warriors would remain as our ally?” Victor asked. The man was sharp, I thought.

“I…,” Antoine hesitated, “I will leave that decision to my son.”

“I wonder,” the Comte interrupted with a question, “how His Excellency the Bishop of Soilet would react, should his Vidame decides to join me.”

To that, Antoine grimaced as his answer.

“Nevertheless,” the Comte continued, flashing an honest smile, “I welcome with open arms, those who have valiantly fought alongside me.”

Antoine nodded to the Comte, then noticed my presence. He frowned.

“I have come to understand the rationale behind the decision, but I still feel sending my defective son into a battle was unforgivably distasteful. I wish to convey my displeasure to the Lady.”

“I will have a word with milady-,” I was saying when somebody violently slapped the back of my head. Hurt, I spun around. Marion was inches away from me, bent low to my eye level. Her Bark-skinned kins stood behind her, and when our eyes met, they shrugged apologetically. Marion pushed her blindfolded head into my face. She was screaming.

“What have you done!”

Seeing through whatever creature’s eyes that she had momentarily borrowed, Marion pointed at Anna.

“Why is that girl breathing?”

“Erm… a miracle?”

I backed away from the tall fuming woman, but Marion pushed in further.

“And why are you alive? I sensed you dying!”

“What?”

“The trumpets! The light! They had stopped, but now they are back!” Marion kept screaming into my face.

“No, Mademoiselle,” Sieur Henry butted in, squeezing in between Marion and me, “it is the young Lady Anna. There is a whole marching band locked inside her blade. The light, too.”

“It true,” one of the Treedwelling warriors chimed in. “I saw the girl leak.”

OK, I thought, that didn’t come out quite right. These Barkskins needed to polish their ‘humen’ language. Furthermore, I couldn’t help but take notice of what the Sieur just said. So, he thought all that magic came out of Anna’s sword, eh?

“Wha-,” Marion was baffled. Then she realized she was very close to Sieur Henry. Her face, the part that wasn’t hidden behind the linen wrapped around her head, blushed. She hastily stepped back and smoothed her hair and straightened her robe. Marion then came to her senses, blushed again, and made her way towards the dense group of men still tossing Anna. Marion stood tall and, with both arms, snatched Anna out of the air, which made the men grumble from having their fun forcibly stopped.

I was surprised Marion had such strength. In one swift motion, she plucked Anna out of the air and set the confused girl down on the ground. Marion scooped low and wrapped her arms around Anna. The dumb girl mistook it for a hug. Anna tiptoed and hugged Marion in return, but the witch of the land moved her hands on Anna’s back and undid the straps that held the breastplate in place. Marion then took a step back. She firmly held both layers of Anna’s maille and the linen underneath, and, to my amusement, rolled them up high, exposing Anna’s bare chest for everyone to see. There was… nothing to see, except for a pair of pathetic raisins.

“There!” Marion circled a finger on Anna’s bony chest. “There’s supposed to be a hole here!”

Marion held the clothes lifted too high, and both the maille and the linen had gone so high up that they were engulfing and uncomfortably rubbing on Anna’s face. Anna’s muffled grumbling could be heard.

Men leaned in closer to inspect the young maiden’s non-existent bosoms, under the pretense of searching for the now-missing wound. I rushed in and rolled Anna’s clothing down, much to everyone’s disappointment. I didn’t get it. As I said, there was nothing much to see. Nevertheless, that didn’t mean one could liberally expose a maiden’s bare skin for public viewing.

“Mademoiselle! You shouldn’t!” I snapped at Marion.

Anna, an innocent girl, didn’t quite understand what the fuss was about.

‘What’s up with her?’ she asked me with a puzzled expression on her face.

“What happened?” Marion demanded. She had calmed down somewhat. She took a deep breath and continued. “Why are you not dead?”

Anna jabbed a thumb into her chest and gloated.

“Because she is the Roseborn,” I answered in Anna’s stead.

“What does that even mean?”

“Yes,” the Comte chimed in. “I, too, am curious about the exact meaning.”

I straightened up.

“Lady Anna is a child born of the roses,” I declared, which wasn’t true at all, but it was the narrative that I had been pushing for years. Besides, it was a better story than a baby riding a meteorite. I continued. “The precious fruit of the land. A magnificent gift from the Roseland to its master. A mere arrow cannot-”

“Born of the roses? What nonsense,” Marion rejected immediately, “a humen child isn’t conceived by pollination but by fukking.”

Everyone gasped.

“Language, Mademoiselle!” face red, Victor the Vicomte was visibly displeased, “or are you suggesting the esteemed Baron had spilled on the roses?”

“Humen women have a bush-like coat of curly stigma,” a Treedweller injected, “if frolicking nekked, maybe catch pollen in the wind-”

“Please!” I had to intervene. “The young lady had simply… blossomed into being! Not conceived by any worldly means… Besides, not all women have curly hairs down there.”

Oh God, maybe I should have gone with the meteorite version. Anna tapped on my arm for attention.

‘What does that word mean? The one, the witch has used.’

I opened my mouth, but no words came out. Comte d’Armas saved me from my predicament.

“Speaking of a baron, I have not seen Hugo this night.”

“Oh! That reminds me,” Sieur Henry butted in, “I saw earlier Baron Hugo’s banner departing. With a dozen riders.” His face was serious now, concerned. “I am afraid they are heading towards Perpillon.”

“My question still has not been answered!” Marion tried to steer the topic back. “Why is this girl alive? What really happened here?”

Fed up, we all answered as one.

“A miracle!”

###

I quickly learned, by asking around, that Baron Hugo had been partaking in the siege of Fort Soilet. It made sense. Hugo needed to repay his debt to Comte de Chartoise, who had pardoned the Baron. Besides, they were on the same side; Team Prince Charles.

“What about Seigneur Bourgillet?” I asked the kind soldier who had been incredibly nice in telling me what I had missed.

“Oh, the Seigneur,” the man chuckled bitterly and shook his head. Apparently, the young Seigneur of Bourgillet had accompanied Comte d’Armas to the Bishop’s court. There, he silently waded over to the other side as soon as the argument between the two Counts escalated into swords being drawn.

“We haven’t seen him tonight either,” the soldier shrugged, “I guess he went with his Baron.”

Comte d’Armas rounded up his riders and sent them off after the Chartoise’s Count.

“Guimond should be heading to his manor, with no rest,” he told his men, “If you make haste, you might be able to capture them. But do not exert yourselves too much, for driving Comte de Chartoise out of his land also serves my purpose.”

“But to what end, though, my Comte?” Victor interrupted his lord, “We have no jurisdiction here nor justification. WE are the unwelcome guests on Count Chartoise’s land.”

Comte d’Armas nodded in agreement, but he had other thoughts.

“With the county’s master removed, barons and seigneurs of the lands would be more willing to listen to the fact. That His Royal Highness Prince Louis is the rightful heir.”

“But that would mean we threaten the nobles by force!”

“I am afraid it has come to that.”

I liked Comte d’Armas. He didn’t make up a bullshit make-belief justification for his actions. He was honest. Not at all in denial of the ugliness of his intention.

Around this time, which was already fairly late into the night and approaching dawn, Anna unsummoned her private army. She stood before them and gave a nod of appreciation before waving her sparkling sword. Just like the way they had appeared, but in reverse, the ancient warriors walked back into the timeless shadow and disappeared. Her wine-red maille, too, dissipated into fine ethereal mist. Marion, of course, freaked out seeing this.

“What in the name of-,” she noticed the fed-up vibe surrounding her and shut up. Marion sulked and fell back to her kins, who explained the surreal army to her in their Treedweller language. I could see them pointing at Anna’s blade. So, they, too, thought the sword was the magic wand.

“Erm…,” Sieur Henry approached me, seemingly not very happy. “I was hoping the Lady would send them to rescue Geoffroi.”

‘We shall depart right away,’ was Anna’s answer. ‘We saw the Comte murdering the messenger. I fear the worst for our mutual friend.’

Sieur Henry beamed up.

“Lady Anna! Do you mean it?”

To which Anna nodded. Marion, with her borrowed hearing, overheard Anna’s borrowed voice and rushed in.

“Going where? Setting the fatal wound aside, you are still fatally infected.”

‘But I feel better,’ said Anna, and demonstrated her refreshed vitality by puffing up and down.

“I don’t believe this,” Marion grabbed the girl and pulled closer. She licked Anna’s neck, in a surprisingly arousing fashion, and sniffed Anna’s odor. Marion stepped back, with a disgusted look on her lower half of the face.

“I can’t believe this! You are good as new!”

“As I said,” I butted in, “the Roseborn is miraculous.”

“Yes, I can see that. But please do bathe this salty girl every now and then.”

Men around us laughed at this. Anna blushed and glared at them, which made them laugh even harder. I laughed, too, taking in the cheerful faces. From the corner of my eyes, I caught something in the dark. Something I thought was familiar. I did a double-take and focused.

Above the distant horizon to the south, I thought I saw a speck of pink light. There was something tiny shimmering, so far away from where I was that it was so low over the black landmass.

“Tuguem, do you see that?” I tapped on a Barkskin and pointed southward.

“I’m Doshraque,” he corrected me, but nevertheless squinted his eyes and surveyed the distant sky. “I see a small light. Not of a star.”

“Does it appear pink to you, too?”

“It does.”

Right. A Postier was demanding my bearing, from somewhere very far to the south. Probably Bourg.

###

“A man will come in a day or two,” I was saying to Victor as I wound my winch, reeling the floating lantern back down. Victor, the Vicomte of Armas, had watched me signaling my fellow Roselander in the distance. I continued.

“He will identify himself as a rider of Les Postiers and will have a patch of the rose embroidered on his satchel.”

“Les Postiers. And a rose on the satchel,” Victor repeated. “I tell him the Lady has gone to Perpillon.”

“Yes, milord.

“This,” Victor tapped on the lantern that had descended. He seemed impressed and watched me fold it. “This is a useful arrangement. We should do the same in Armas.”

“Oh, I am sure my man would be more than happy to explain the workings of Les Postiers.”

I turned around, and Anna nodded in agreement. She and Sieur Henry had been waiting for me, all ready to set out once again. Unfortunately, but understandably, Comte d’Armas could not spare his men. He needed everything he had in order to secure Chartoise. However, Sieur Henry wasn’t concerned, because according to him, Anna tagging along was more than enough. The man had become a firm believer in Anna’s prowess.

Yes, we were tired. We hadn’t slept. But we had to hurry as Baron Hugo had about a day lead on us. I wondered how fast we could gallop on the snow. The good Sieur had said the Baron and his riders would have made a solid trodden path on the snow-covered ground. All the way to Perpillon. Maybe, if we rode with minimum downtime, we would be able to catch up. Thankfully, the sky had exhausted its snow reserve, and the pesky flakes had stopped falling. The air was cool and dry, the eastern horizon turning violet as the first light neared.

“Mademoiselle!”

Victor’s surprised voice made me jump. I spun around and nearly kissed Marion’s chest.

“I am going, too,” she announced, standing tall before me. Behind her, the three Barkskins stood with their gears ready. So, they, too, were coming with us.

“But the wounded need you-,”

“They will manage without me,” Marion interrupted me and slightly faced Victor as if inquiring. The Vicomte reluctantly agreed with a nod. “I must see for myself,” Marion continued, “whether you and the Lady are evil. Danger to the folks of the land.”

“We aren’t!”

“So I have thought. But, mind you, nothing good comes out of a dead coming back to life.”

Anna shuffled uncomfortably.

“I may be a mere half-Barkskin,” Marion continued, her voice rather cold, “but I have my ways around things. I will kill you at the first sign of evil.”

“But, we are good!” I protested.

Marion looked down from her tall height. Or rather, her blindfolded face tilted down.

“I pray you indeed are,” she said, this time rather softly. A small smile formed around her lips, then she placed a thumb on my cheek.

“Argh!”

Oh, God, I had forgotten entirely. I had a fucking hole in my face. Wait, I placed that expletive in a misleading position…, ahem, I had a pierced wound on my cheek. And it burnt. Marion rummaged through her travel sack and fished out a small wooden container. Inside was a gooey paste of whatever the heck, and it felt soothing on my face and numbed the pain.

“I would like to remind us that the time is dwindling,” Sieur Henry urged. “We should ride out in haste.”

Everyone nodded and got on their mounts. They then turned and eyed me on my Slinky in a disapproving way.

“Eh…,” Victor came by my side and gently patted my donkey’s back. “My lad, let me get you a horse.”

###

We rode non-stop for hours, well into the late morning. With his friend being in danger, Sieur Henry didn’t show any signs of wanting to have a rest. That, in turn, encouraged the proud Treedwellers to prove that they, too, had the endurance. Ever so competitive, Anna gritted her teeth and kept up, further upping the ante in this game of chickens. I was glad Victor gave me a horse for this journey. Slinky wouldn’t have kept up with these veteran beasts.

At last, it was Marion who put a stop to this nonsense.

“I need to pee!” she screeched.

Bless that woman. We finally stopped for a rest. Steams rose from the backs of our horses and elks as their muscles cooled in the winter air. While we the men faced the other way and drew yellow lines on the hard compacted snow, Marion and Anna went behind a large rock. I overheard the witch of the land reminding my Anna about the danger of wiping ass with unfamiliar materials.

It wasn’t intentional, but while group-pissing, I managed to catch a glimpse of a Treedweller weenie. I couldn’t really tell which one he was, but no matter. What mattered was that his thing was unbelievably thin and floppy. I suddenly felt overwhelming confidence in my manhood.

The Barkskins were exceptionally skilled in making fire. We squatted down around the flickering flame and shared some strips of peppered jerkies that I had fished out of my sack. The spice and the saltiness woke me up, and the meat filled my empty stomach. Marion melted snow in a pot over the fire and sprinkled a curious mixture of powdered substances. The insta-brewed tea was strong yet soothing and warmed me up. I took a mental note to ask her about it later. But for now, I had an immediate need to satiate my curiosity.

“I thought you said Treedwellers reproduce in the same way as humans,” I whispered to a small bird perched on Marion’s shoulder.

“We do,” Marion answered casually, not really paying attention.

“But I just saw Zaggech’s stamen…”

“You what?” Marion then thought about it for some seconds. A broad smile slowly grew on the visible part of her face, which then turned into a suppressed laughter.

“You probably mean Doshraque. And no, it’s not a stamen.”

“What?”

Her face then turned serious.

“Never ever mention it to his face. Understand? Doshraque will go berserk, and we don’t have Bourdaq with us to calm him down.”

“What’s Bourdaq?”

“He’s a friend. A Barkskin.”

I got curious.

“And only he can calm Doshraque down?”

The bird on Marion’s shoulder turned its head left and right, checking if anyone else was hearing our conversation. Marion leaned in and whispered.

“His is even tinier.”

Just as the Sieur had expected, our path to Perpillon had already been cleared by Baron Hugo and his men riding ahead of us. We had already passed two cold fires on the way, which meant the Baron and his men were resting more often than our little group.

“I had seen them depart around noon yesterday,” Henry said to no one in particular, his eyes examining the neat columns of frozen hooves prints on the snow. “It seems they weren’t in a hurry. I hope we arrive just in time.”

“You certain your friend in danger?” Zaggech asked, to which the Sieur nodded with a grim face.

“Yes, I am certain. Have we not witnessed Geoffroi’s servant being murdered?”

I shuddered at the recollection of what I had seen. I wondered, though. Comte de Chartoise was very hospitable towards Anna, even though he knew of her affiliation and intent. What made him so enraged that he decided to kill a mere letter-bearer on the spot? Sieur Geffroi had shown me the letter to the Comte before sealing it in an envelope. There was nothing rage-inducing but polite words and respect. Why then was Comte so furious he dispatched his riders to Perpillon? And why, of all people, Baron Hugo? Why not Sieur Pierre-, hang on.

I glanced at Sieur Henry’s face. He looked tired but determined. I searched for remorse, but there was none.

“My good Sieur…,” I dared to ask. “Erm… about Sieur Pierre-”

“Good man. Jolly good fellow,” the Sieur answered right away. His expression didn’t change at all. I felt a chill on my spine and left it at that.

###

Sometime dawn the next day, we crossed the narrow stream and were in Perpillon. We were exhausted by this point, having not slept at all and rested very little to none. Nevertheless, we kept going. Guided by the nocturnal eyes of the Barkskins and Marion’s wildlife friends, we cut through the field in the dark. We could see the castle Perpillon in the distance. A dark mass on the horizon, illuminated by the last-minute light of the stars and the sinking moon. Even without the celestial illumination, we would have seen the castle just fine because it was glowing red from the fire within.

“They’ve set fire!”

Sieur Henry shouted and kicked his horse’s ribs. We gritted our teeth and sped up after the Sieur knight.

We could see the silhouettes of a dozen or so horses milling about before the castle’s gate. Thankfully no one was out, and we were able to approach the castle undetected. Soon we reached the gate and quietly dismounted.

“It’s too quiet,” one of the Barkskins pointed out. We spoke no further words but readied weapons. Welp, not everyone. I didn’t have anything on me, which made me feel a bit ashamed. Heck, even Marion had a wooden club in her hand.

The gate was wide open. As we crept in, we were greeted by what appeared to be the remnant of a brief battle. Torches mounted on the walls were still burning, and they shed light on the snow-covered ground, on which orderly columns of footprints walked to the middle and came to a stop. In the middle of the small courtyard was a dead armored knight, his neck sliced open by a surgical implementation of a blade in highly skilled hands. Hereafter the footprints were haphazard and hurried, indicating the chaos that had ensued. I pictured a scene in my head. Baron Hugo and his men arriving sometime during the night. Unsuspecting Sieur Geffroi coming out to greet them in the courtyard. Then, evidently, things went bloody.

Further in, on the stair wings to the raised platform that led into the castle’s interior, were three more dead bodies. Two of them were Sieur Geoffroi’s servants, clutching short knives in their lifeless hands, both on the left side of the two stairways leading to the platform. On the landing itself, one dead knight soullessly stared at the sky. He had a similar wound to the neck to the previous one.

“Looks like Geoffroi stood his ground here for a while,” Sieur Henry observed, whispering. “Geoffroi holding off the right, his servants on the left.”

Unfortunately, it seemed the hostile guests had eventually managed to force the defenders away from this choke. The wooden gate to the interior had been burnt down, and the stone walls were still hot and charred. From the exposed corridor, which was fogged by black smoke, the sound of banging and indistinguishable voices echoed out. Judging by the flickering red light that shone around the corner, I could tell that something was burning within the stone structure. It got me worried because after turning that corner, one would come across the stairwell that led to Sieur Geoffroi’s library on the upper level. I suspected the castle’s residents had holed up there behind a shut door. Baron Hugo was most likely trying to smoke them out. This didn’t look good.

We stepped over the dead knight’s body. We tiptoed into the castle building, the good Sieur leading the way, followed by silent Anna and the Barkskins. Marion and I brought up the rear. We stopped just before turning the corner. From here, I could just make out what the voices were saying.

“Fools, I said smoke them out, not us!”

I recognized that angry voice. It was Baron Hugo’s.

Out of nowhere, a small mouse appeared. It scurried on its tiny feet over the stone floor and went ahead of us. A few seconds later, Marion whispered.

“Ten men. All armed. They are burning something before a door.”

We turned the corner and swiftly moved to the foot of the stairwell that wound up to the next floor. We heard stomping sounds, and the flicker of the flame disappeared. After many coughing and banging sounds that echoed down the spiral stairway, Baron Hugo was heard once again. This time he was shouting.

“It is all the same, my good man!” the Baron was saying, “I have heard you have not long left. Why not welcome today’s swift and painless death?”

Sieur Geffroi’s muffled voice echoed down, which was a good sign. He was still alive.

“I intend to live it out till the last moment, my lord!”

Then there was a loud bang that sounded as if something heavy struck a thick wooden object. That was the cue. Sieur Henry, with his sword ready, led us forward.

###

Walking up the winding stairwell, I heard another banging noise that sounded like somebody was slamming against a heavy wooden object.

“Was that your head, my Lord?” came Sieur Geoffroi’s muffled voice.

Another bang.

“My! What a thick head you must have!” Geoffroi kept mocking.

“At least mine is still attached,” Baron Hugo replied, his voice trying to remain cool but failing. “Yours, my good man, soon won’t be.”

It was then that we made the final steps and emerged in the stony hallway fogged with the still lingering smoke.

The hallway wasn’t too spacious. Just tall and wide enough for two grown men to stand in full height side by side if their shoulders overlapped a bit. As Marion had warned us, there were ten men in the hallway, uncomfortably clumped up before the wooden door some ten feet from the stairwell. Three in metal armors, including the Baron and his relative Seigneur Bourgillet. These armored three were on the far side. They were too occupied banging on the door to notice us. The rest were of lesser status, clad in maille over gambeson, and wearing round hard hats. They had their backs turned on us and hadn’t noticed our presence so far.

One man, though, the closest one to us, heard my cough and turned around. He immediately experienced what could only be described as overkill. Sieur Henry’s sword plunged into the man’s throat. Anna thrust her blade upward, like a spear, from under the Sieur’s right armpit. It went into the man’s chest. Simultaneously, a hatchet, swung by Tuguem’s long arm over the Sieur’s left shoulder, smashed down on the metal hat and made a heavy dent that couldn’t possibly be healthy for the skull underneath. The poor man slumped down onto the cold floor.

Unfortunately, though, the eager three got their limbs tangled, stumbled forward as a collective, and fell on top of the dead man, small Anna sandwiched between Sieur Henry and Tuguem. The clinking and clanking noise and Anna’s shriek made heads turn this way. There was an awkward silence as nine sets of surprised eyes locked onto a knight, a maiden, and a Treedweller piled up on a bleeding body.

“You’ve squashed my mouse! The poor thing!” Marion screamed, which made everyone jump.

Our enemies came to their senses and pointed their pointy things at us, which took a bit of effort as long swords scraped against the stonewall of the narrow hallway. Sparks flew, and the noise was dreadful. They awkwardly shuffled and shoved each other with hips and shoulders to not get in each other’s way in this confined space. Baron Hugo got pushed back and bumped in the process, and he fell on his arse hard.

With a loud grunt, Sieur Henry jumped up on his feet. Shit, the man was strong. His motion flung Anna and Tuguem on his back unto us, that is Marion, Zaggech, Doshraque, and I. We cascaded backward like bowling pins. Or like domino pieces. Zaggech ended up tumbling down the stairwell.

Sieur Henry quickly scraped off the squashed dead mouse from his knee-plate and adjusted the grip on his sword.

“My Lord,” Henry greeted the Baron coldly, “I hope you have been well.”

“My God! Henry, Sieur, I have assumed you had fallen in Montclam!” Hugo stood up and rubbed his ass. He pointed at Anna, who was in the process of getting up. “Disgracefully by the hands of that disgusting defective whore.”

“Had you not been the first one to turn tail, you would have seen me surrender to the Lady.”

“And please refrain from calling my Lady a whore, please,” I chimed in. In her defense, Anna wasn’t that kind of a bitch.

“You! I remember you and your rude behavior,” the Baron glared at me. “I expect the whore and her servant had celebrated my momentary defeat in a passionate manner that involved a whole lot of inappropriate slurping and squelching.”

“Not exactly, milord, but I nevertheless did celebrate on my own, by wrapping your fabulous but abandoned shirt around my wand and stroking vigorously,” I shot back. It wasn’t true at all; I had done nothing like that, but still, what mattered was the fact that I was insulting him.

“What an obvious lie, my lad,” the Baron chuckled and shook his head. “I had brought only one shirt which, at the time, I will have you know, I had it on me.”

“Oh, then I must have erred. How disappointing. Nevertheless, the fact remains that I had fantasized about what I would do to Your Lordship’s behind-”

Marion slapped the back of my head to shut me up. Anna tapped on my elbow, puzzled.

‘What wand? And what is the Baron saying we did?’

I brushed her off. This was not the time to educate Anna on sex. The Baron’s eyes moved onto the two tall Treedwellers. Two, because Zagecch hadn’t come back up.

“Treepeople!”

I counted us. We were one, two, three-,

“Treedwellers, milord,” Sieur Henry corrected Baron Hugo. I, embarrassed, stopped counting.

Marion pushed forward and waved her club menacingly.

“You killed my folks!”

“Look, now a blind woman,” the Baron noted.

There was once again a brief silence in the hallway while the two groups glared at each other. Somebody coughed, and we all coughed, and everyone waved their hands to disperse the still lingering smoke. But then, the awkward silence turned to an amused confusion as the young Seigneur of Bourgillet, with his sword deliberately pointed downward, sheepishly shuffled over to our side. He waded past Sieur Henry and Marion, pushed me back, stopped just behind Anna, turned around, and pointed his sword the wrong way.

“What are you doing?” the Baron asked, baffled.

“I am terribly sorry, uncle,” said the young Seigneur unconvincingly, “but I would rather not be at the pointy end of the Lady’s sword.”

“What?!” Baron Hugo was furious. In disbelief. He met the faces of his men, who were looking at him with an expression that asked, ‘do we deem him our enemy now?’

“Am I dreaming? My late second cousin’s son has just betrayed me. Out of fear of that stinking whore-,”

The Baron’s whining was interrupted by the library’s door creaking open a bit. Sieur Geoffroi’s head poked out and looked left and right.

“Oh, hello, Henry.”

“Bonjour, Geoffroi.”

The knight of Perpillon looked disapprovingly down at the still-hot remain of the attempt to smoke him out of the library. He then took stock of the situation in the hallway and flashed a quick smile.

“There’s a window down the hallway,” he pointed with a finger, “that should clear the smoke.”

With that, the head retreated back into the library, and the door was bolted shut once again. As if on cue, everyone lunged forward, yelling like maniacs.

Marion was pushed back hard by Henry’s strong arms. She yelped, bumped into Seigneur Bourgillet, and, by accident, lightly clubbed the young man’s helmeted head in the process.

“Ow!” the Seigneur swayed a bit and gripped on my shoulder to steady himself.

The hallway was too narrow and packed with people to swing swords effectively. Cutting and slicing were not viable in this confined space. Sieur Henry and Anna opted to jab and thrust their blades like spears, which the enemy soldiers reciprocated.

“Yarrrrr!” Anna was screaming non-stop, but she kept getting in Sieur Henry’s way.

“Geoffroi, you bastard!” Henry shouted, roughly shouldering Anna away from his side. “I’m risking my life here for you! Help me!”

“Thank you, Henry,” Sieur Geoffroi answered from behind the locked door. “But I will pass. You already have Lady Anna with you.”

Then all of a sudden, Tuguem shouted from behind.

“Duck!”

Everyone stopped and faced the Treedweller.

“Where?”

Then we realized the two Barkskins had their bows drawn.

“Duck,” Tuguem repeated, “humen friend. Duck.”

Anna and Sieur Henry ducked low, and the two Treedwelling warriors sent arrows zipping down the hallway. That resulted in two more dead bodies to be trodden on and get in everyone’s way.

I, on the other hand, stood far back and cowered. I watched grumbling Zaggech come up the stairs and join the fray. Marion somehow got swept by her kinsmen into the fight. I saw her club frantically waving in the air. Seigneur Bourgillet, though, cleared his throat to get my attention.

“So, erm…” his eyes ran up and down on me. “It’s a bit hard to breathe here, is it not?”

“Oui, Seigneur.”

He and I walked down the hallway and opened the window, letting in some fresh winter air. It felt good.

“Yarrrr!”

Anna’s voice made my head turn, but I couldn’t see jack shit thanks to the Barkskins blocking the view. They stood tall and used their long arms to raise the bows above their heads. They were sending arrows angled down over Sieur Henry and Anna’s heads. I couldn’t see whether they were hitting anything. Marion, on all her fours, crawled out between her kins’ legs. It seemed she had lost her club. She stood up, dusted off, and came to the window in a long stride. She was fanning herself with a hand, rather upset.

“Can you believe it? They’ve stomped another of my mice to death!” she reached and patted the head of the small bird perched on her shoulder. “If anyone hurts this one, I am going to be really mad.”

“We haven’t had a chance to talk,” the Seigneur addressed Marion, “but I’ve been meaning to ask. How exactly do you see? With your eyes wrapped like that?”

“I am impressed,” I chimed in, “that the bird has stayed on your shoulder throughout all this.”

“She’s a good friend,” Marion said and pated the bird again. “And to answer the Seigneur’s question, I see through my friends’ eyes. Such as this one.”

“Witchcraft, Seigneur,” I added to Marion’s explanation, “serious hexes and curses and mind readings. Dancing naked under the full moon-”

“I do not! I don’t do none of those things!”

“Yarrr!”

Anna’s screaming intensified in a burst, and somebody yelped and died. We three pretended we didn’t hear it.

“So, Seigneur,” I tried to ignore the deaths happening in the hallway. The man was also pretending nothing serious was occurring in the vicinity. Instead, he studied Marion’s bird with impressed eyes.

“Yes, my lad.”

“You are that afraid of my Lady Anna? Even to the extent, you would abandon your relative?”

Seigneur Bourgillet sighed.

“Not only the Lady. Look,” he nudged his chin in the direction of the deadly fight. “That is Sieur Henry, correct?”

“Oui, Seigneur.”

“THE Sieur Henry of Tyroux. On top of THE Sieur Geoffroi of Perpillon.”

“Meaning?” I got curious and urged him to go on.

“That makes it two of the five lion cubs, the Lionceaux,” he shook his head, “And the young Lady of La Rose, whose prowess I have had a first-hand experience. You may call me a coward, but unlike my uncle, I am not brave enough to challenge a certain death.”

“Oh, the Sieur is known as a lion’s cub?” Marion butted in, suddenly all interested. She was fidgeting like a young maiden.

“Yes, Mademoiselle. The cubs are the five pupils of the grand swordmaster Andrion le Courageux.”

Something clicked in my head.

“Is the esteemed General Guillaume also a Lionceau?”

“Why, yes. The strongest of the five.”

Wow. I was impressed. It explained why Sieur Henry had been leading the group of sieurs and chevaliers back when we first met. I now knew why Comte d’Armas was so glad to have the Sieur around.

Speak of the devil, Sieur Henry’s voice interrupted my thoughts.

“Geoffroi! At least come out and cheer for me, or something!”

“Are you that desperate, Henry?” the Knight Perpillon laughed from behind the closed door.

“No!” then the Sieur changed his sales pitch. “Geoffroi, do you not wish to see Her Ladyship’s swordwork?”

I heard the sound of the metal bolt moving. The door flung open, and Sieur Geoffroi and his servants flooded out, smack dab right into the fray. A familiar voice, which had turned hoarse after all that yelling and screaming, welcomed the host of this castle.

“Yarrr!”

###

When the dust settled, and the smoke cleared, and the noise died down, I craned my neck. Baron Hugo and his one last armored knight had been pushed back to the far end of the hallway. The rest of the men was all dead on the cold stone floor.

The Barkskins decided the fight was over. They stepped back, leaned on the wall, and took a breather. Castle Perpillon’s servants were already removing the dead bodies, taking them downstairs one by one. Sieurs Henry and Geoffroi stood shoulder to shoulder with their swords pointed at the two last remaining foes. Anna, eager, was trying to squeeze in, but she couldn’t quite secure the space.

“Mes Sieurs,” the cornered knight spoke at last. “As expected of famed lion cubs, but who is this ferocious young lady?”

“My! We’ve all forgotten our manners!” Sieur Geoffroi confidently lowered his guard. “As you seem to know already, I am Sieur Geoffoi of Perpillon.”

“And Henry of Tyroux,” our Sieur Henry added, then made space for Anna to step forward. “And young Lady Anna of the Roseland.”

With the two sieur-knights standing tall beside her, Anna looked tiny. She did her noble lady’s courtesy thing, and the knight bowed politely.

“George, a chevalier hailing from le Sol.”

“Le Sol?” Henry raised eyebrows. “Does that mean Marquis du Sol has sent men to aid Comte de Chartoise?”

“Indeed, good Sieur. I must say, though, nobody has told me I would face not one but two cubs. In fact, I am not sure why this feud here in Perpillon in the first place.”

“Because the Comte wished this man dead!” Hugo barked, irritated. The Baron then scoffed and faced our Sieurs. “Are we done?” he lowered his sword. “In that case, I would like to surrender.”

With that, the four men shook hands and sheathed their swords. Anna, disapproving of this anticlimatic de-escalation, stomped her way towards me.

‘We should kill them right here,’ she complained.

“Now, now, milady. I am sure there are proper protocols to follow in the Codes of Noble Hommes.”

Anna pouted and put her hands on her waist. She glared at the noble hommes.

###

I woke up with a gasp. I was lying on my side in the bed that Anna and I had previously occupied during our last stay. I thought I had heard a repeated rustling sound. As soon as I opened my eyes, I saw Anna jolt under the blanket. She was also on her side with her back turned on me. A quick surprised jolt, and then she froze, pretending to be asleep.

“What were you doing?”

No answer. Instead, Anna let out a fake snore. Wait, was she…? Nah, I shook my head. She wouldn’t, would she? I tapped on her shoulder.

“Come on. Wake up. Let’s go eat something.”

She turned around, deliberately opened her eyes, and soullessly acted out a yawn, which was so obviously a fake.

After the surrender, the servants had taken away the two prisoners’ swords and armors and locked them up in another guest room somewhere in the castle. Sieur Geoffroi had then told us to go have some rest while he and his men would clean up the fight’s aftermath. Having ridden almost non-stop all the way from Fort Soilet, we had all welcomed the suggestion and decided we would sleep first and talk later.

Thus I had had a good sleep. Judging by the sun seen through the open windows, it was well into the afternoon. I found the others sitting at the long table in the small dining hall, silently sipping Marion’s insta-brew tea. The noblemen were at the far end of the table, talking among themselves.

“Pollinate good?” one of the Barkskins waved his hand, greeting Anna and me with a winking grin.

“No, Tuguem, the Lady and I aren’t like that,” I scowled at the rude remark, sitting Anna at the table before taking a seat myself. The Barkskin scowled back.

“I’m Doshraque,”

“Oops, sorry.”

On the table were loaves of bread and chunks of hams laid out. I cut a slice of each and handed over to Anna, who dug in immediately. There were also some jars of pickles, which I knew were very piquant and crunchy. Anna tapped on my hand and motioned for me to go for the ham. I took her recommendation, and it was good.

Settling down, I listened in to the conversation between the nobles. They were discussing what was to come the next.

“-but I have already been pardoned,” the Baron was saying.

“The legitimacy of which is questionable,” said Sieur Henry matter of factly, but he then reluctantly accepted, “but, pardoned in the Comte’s official capacity nonetheless, which is true.”

“Well, then,” Baron Hugo leaned back on his chair, “please state the amount of the ransom, and let us be done with it the soonest.”

“Ah, my Lord, let us not be haste in concluding the matter,” Sieur Geoffroi injected. “Comte de Chartoise has ordered my murder, and you, my Lord, is an accomplice.”

“Which, I assume, would be reflected heavily on the ransom amount?”

“What use would be golds and silvers to I, who is in his last days?” Geoffroi smirked. “I have no desire for further stacking of coins.”

Just as I, our Henry became curious, too.

“The Baron and the chevalier. These two hommes are, technically, your prisoners. What is your plan, Geoffroi?”

Sieur Geoffroi leaned in on the table. He thought for a minute before opening his mouth again.

“As for the matter regarding Baron Hugo, I wish to consult Comte d’Armas first. Whether His Lordship accepts the questionable pardon.”

“Ha!” the Baron in question scoffed. “Let me remind you that the Count of Armas is as good as dead. His Lordship, Comte de Chartoise, will soon have the old man’s head.”

“Ah, no, milord,” it was Sieur Henry’s turn to smirk. “Chartoise has fallen. The siege of Fort Soilet has been shattered, and the Comte has fled.”

Baron Hugo’s face went blank. It was for the first time I had a good look at the man’s face with his helmet removed. It was like a solid rectangular block of handsomely chiseled marble. Well-defined and fierce, with firm lips and sharp nose. His jaw looked as if it would have no problem withstanding a hammer, its edge coated with a rich dark beard. The hair was short and dark but spotted a few patches of gray here and there. Although not young, the Baron didn’t look too old. No older than only a few years more than our Henry. Overall, Baron Hugo was quite good looking. I silently wished I would look as good and manly in my coming years. But for now, the face was dumb and blank as he tried to process what he had just heard.

“Pardon my hearing, Sieur. Chartoise has what?” George, the chevalier, was also in disbelief.

“Nonsense! Chartoise outnumbered the treacherous clowns by three to one at least,” Hugo shouted, indignant, refusing to accept the fact. “Fort Soilet was starving!”

“True, my Lord,” Sieur Henry nodded but then waved his hand in Anna’s direction, “but the young Lady, the Roseborn, broke through it all. Surely, Your Lordship remembers Montclam?”

The Baron bit his lips and glared at Anna. His eyes were filled with hatred and disgust.

“Speak, you slut! Is this true?”

Anna, with her mouth fully stuffed with ham and bread, nodded. She rudely chewed with open mouth and eyed the Baron mockingly.

“The Sieur tells the truth, my Lord,” I added.

“But how? Lady Valérie would never allow her father’s army fall!”

“I am curious, too,” Geoffroi chimed in. “Valérie is an exceptionally gifted warrior.”

I raised my eyebrows. So, the knight Perpillon knew the lady in question?

“Sieur, do you know the lady well?”

“I do indeed,” Sieur Geoffroi nodded.

I leaned in over the table, eager to hear what he had to say about the mysterious Lady.

According to him, ever since Lady Valérie was a little kid, Sieur Geoffroi had taught her the arts of sword and battlecraft. The diligent sieur-knight had even talked General Guillaume into sending her a wagon-load of books on warfare.

He had put in all that effort despite fully knowing that Lady Valérie would eventually end up as a mere token of diplomacy between noble houses. And ultimately, a symbolic wife imprisoned in her wealthy manor. With a bit of luck and effort, she would, at least, establish a loving relationship with her husband, which would make things a bit happier and merrier. If not, tough luck. Such was the general fate of a damsel, especially so if the Lady in question was of the highest statue like that of a Comte.

On the other hand, my Anna, also a noble’s daughter, was exempt from such a fate. She thoroughly enjoyed the freedom that was granted to her by her defect. Thanks to her muteness, Anna’s chance of marrying into a noble house was virtually zero. The Baron and the Baroness had long given up. There was no point bringing Anna up into a refined princess.

As for Valérie, perhaps Geoffroi had found entertainment in seeing the Lady’s defiance to the norm. Or maybe he had genuinely believed that Valérie would break out of the invisible chains. I felt it was the latter case.

“But, now hearing the two ladies have clashed, I am beginning to think times are surely changing.” Geoffroi winked at Anna. “I myself am glad. For all men, bosoms are always welcomed amidst a sausagefest-,”

“Geoffroi!” Sieur Henry stopped his friend.

Anna tapped on my shoulder.

‘What are we talking about? Who is the Lady?’

“Lady Valérie is Comte de Chartoise’s daughter. She fought you.” ‘She killed you, too,’ I decided not to add that.

Anna’s face turned red. She slammed her fist on the table.

‘You!’ she pointed a finger accusingly at Sieur Geoffroi. ‘What monster have you created!’

I laid my hand on her fist. Bruh, YOU are the monster here.

‘But you had no problem dealing with their army?’ I reminded Anna in our silent language.

‘Well, no, I didn’t,’ Anna admitted, ‘but she did make me put in a bit of effort!’

I shook my head and translated Anna’s initial outburst to Sieur Geoffroi. He shrugged.

“I taught her upon the Comte’s request. His Lordship sensed the talent in his young daughter,” His eyes wandered, briefly reminiscing the joyous time of training a gifted child. “Very forward-thinking, the Comte,” the Sieur added. “His Lordship, though, has always felt the family’s noble statue clipped the Lady’s wings.”

Sieur Geoffroi coughed a bit before continuing.

“When I fell ill, Pierre took over,” then he sighed, “but evidently, our teachings alone weren’t enough.”

“But in fairness, my good Sieur,” I clarified,” the Ladies had not crossed swords in person.”

“Now you’ve mentioned Pierre,” Sieur Henry interrupted our conversation, “he was worried about your health, Geoffroi. He was hoping to pay you a visit.”

“Oh, you’ve met him? Is he well?”

“Eh, no. I’ve killed him.”

“In a fair fight, I hope?”

“Indeed. We even went so far as to use fists and boots.”

“Well, then. An honorable death.”

I was baffled. The fuck?

“But, mes Sieurs! Was not Sieur Pierre your friend?”

The two Sieurs exchanged glances.

“Well, of course. He is-, was one of us,” Geoffroi started, “Pierre would have been called a Lionceau, too, had he not left.”

“What a pity,” Sieur Henry shook his head. “I was devastated when I learned he had to go.”

“What happened, Sieurs?” I urged them for an explanation. So far, I deduced that they had all been taught by the same master, Andrion. But he wasn’t a lion’s cub. Why? Had Sieur Pierre abandoned his training prematurely? Had he been kicked out?

“His mother fell terminally ill,” answered Geoffroi with a sad face. “Pierre wished to be by her side.”

“And the good Sieur has killed him,” I spoke slowly, laying out the facts. “He who was your dear friend-,”

“Indeed.” The two knights nodded in unison.

“Young lad,” George the chevalier addressed me. He seemed to get where I was heading. “You do not seem to understand men of swords. An honorable death in a close fight, delivered by a worthy opponent. And the opponent is none other than a good friend, who also happens to be a famed warrior? My lad, one couldn’t ask for it to be any better.”

“Hear, hear!”

The Sieurs knocked on the wooden table and patted the chevalier’s shoulder. Even Baron Hugo nodded in agreement. I turned to Anna for her support, but she, too, was drooling, day-dreaming of the honor and glory. Oh, God, these fucking lunatics! And Anna, you of all people! You shouldn’t agree to this bullshit! I turned to the Barkskins. They hadn’t been listening at all, but instead were busy devouring the hams and bread. I turned back and met Seigneur Bourgillet’s eyes. It seemed he was the only one who shared my thought. The young Seigner grimaced and shook his head, silently telling me to let it go.

“If the Sieur would please,” George steered the conversation away from a dead man, “I would like to return to the matter of ransom. Mine, for example.”

“Ah, as for you, my dear chevalier, I have something in my mind,” Sieur Geoffroi smiled.

“Sieur Geofrroi, I must confess in advance that my family has very little.”

“It won’t matter, my man. What I ask in return for your release is not of coins and shiny ingots. Do me a little service, and then I would consider your ransom paid.”

The chevalier’s eyes glistened, eager to hear what the Sieur was asking of him.

“Are you an honest man, George?” Sieur Geoffroi asked.

“I strive to be, Sieur.”

Baron Hugo cleared his throat and chimed in, nodding.

“I met this man only a week ago, but my impression so far has been that George is decent.”

“Excellent! Thank you, my Lord,” Geoffroi thanked the Baron, then faced the chevalier again. “Now, here is what I ask of you.”

He took a deep breath before continuing.

“I intend to leave my humble castle-,”

His servants, who had been milling about and tending to the guests, all froze in place.

“Sieur!”

“Let me finish, please,” Geoffroi waited for his servants to calm down. “Last night’s little exercise has stirred up my vigor. I now realize that I have desperately missed the feeling of a sword in my hand,” he paused here a bit and smiled. “I will not spend my remaining days bedridden. I shall roam with my dearest friend Henry.”

“My foolish man,” Baron Hugo commented with a sigh, “I believe this is exactly what Comte de Chartoise feared would happen. No wonder His Lordship wished you dead.”

“Pardonez, Sieur,” George tried to steer the conversation back on track, “but how is this relevant to my ransom?”

“Oh, simple,” said Geoffroi. “I intend to instruct my men to sell all my belongings. Even the castle, if possible-,”

“Sieur!”

The servants, once again, tried to argue against their master’s decision. The Sieur, however, sternly put up his hand and blocked them from further interrupting him. With a determined face, he met the eyes of each of his loyal servants.

“All my wealth and belongings. Take a third and split them equally among ye. The remainder shall be given to the people of Perpillon.”

The servants stood there in silence, stunned. I noted, however, none were protesting the decision anymore.

“As you would expect,” Sieur Geoffroi turned back to George, “the proceeding would take some time, during which a noticeable amount of coins and items will be moving and changing hands. Mind you; I will not be here.”

“I see,” George nodded. “I will see to it that your men are safe, carts are not robbed, and the transactions fair and just.”

“Thank you, my man. You may release yourself from the task once all is settled and done.”

“What about me?” Baron Hugo butted in.

“My Lord, I believe I have already told you. I am taking you to Comte d’Armas.”

“Hmpf!”

The Baron pouted and crossed his arms.

###

Sometime in the afternoon, I took Anna with me to go talk to Sieur Geoffroi. After the talk, he had excused himself from the dining hall. To get ready for the road.

The door to his chamber was open. Peering inside, I saw the Sieur talking to one of his servants. It was the man who had guided us to the Harpies up on Mount Clam. I was glad to see he was alive and well.

“-well, I do not mind, but I believe it is better to ask-,” the Sieur was saying. Then he noticed us, beamed a smile, and motioned for Anna and me to come in.

“Splendid! My Lady, this man here,” he put his arm around the man’s shoulders, “wishes to live in the Roseland.”

Anna shrugged and delegated to me the handling.

“Our gates are always open, Sieur,” said I.

“Ah, yes, I expect so. But I…,” the man fidgeted for some seconds before continuing, “I would need a bit of Her Ladyship’s blessing.”

“What do you require?” I asked, eager to help this man start a new life. After all, his time as a servant to Sieur Geoffroi was soon to end. “Coins? Residence? A new master?”

The servant fidgeted, blushed, then puffed his chest and decided to tell us.

“I wish to study the Harpies. Live with them, if possible at all. You see, over the years, I have grown quite fond of them.”

“Ah…,”

Well, wow. This was something new.

In the end, everyone got what they wanted. Anna and I wanted to ask Sieur Geoffroi if it was OK for my Postiers to set up at the castle since it would soon be deserted anyway. My idea was that if Les Postiers posted a small camp on Mount Clam, then they would have a straight line of floating lantern signals over the mountain instead of going all the way around to the south via Forez.

As for Sieur Geoffroi’s servant, once finished his tasks here in Perpillon, he would head to the Roseland. I wrote a letter for him. Both Anna and I signed it. It was addressed to the Queen of the Grayrocks harpy flock, asking her to welcome this man and accommodate his stay.

###

It took one more day for Sieur Geoffroi to thoughtfully pack up his minimum essentials. Sieur Henry was worried about his friend’s health and fussed over the entire process.

And finally, we were back on the road again. Heading towards Chartoise. The weather had been good, not snowing, unlike our last ride to Fort Soilet. Still cold nevertheless. Sieurs Henry and Geoffroi rode in front, followed by the Barkskins and Marion. Then Baron Hugo and the Seigneur of Bourgillet. Anna and I rode in the back, trotting at a casual pace.

About halfway to Chartoise, we came across a lone rider, his face wrapped in a knit-muffler. He wore a thick leather coat and a fur-lined hat on his head. The familiar marking embroidered on the satchel slung across the man’s chest told me it was a Postier. He must have ridden fast and long, for steam rose from the horse’s muscles. The Postier brought his horse around and rode by my side. The others kept going, but I could tell their ears were all listening, curious.

“My Lady. Regent.”

Then he pulled down the muffler to reveal his face. Anna shrieked in delight. No, it wasn’t Jehan. Still, a familiar face nonetheless. A man in his twenties. An ex-tavern boy who wanted to do something new with his life. Oh, I knew this man well.

“The Vicomte has told me I would find you in Perpillon.”

“We are on our back,” I said, frowning. “I thought you were scheduled for the winter training?”

“Yes, I was, but Jehan needed more men out here. Turns out, keeping up with you two out of the land is a bit taxing for Les Postiers.”

‘How is the baby?’ asked Anna, using the sign-language.

“How is my nephew?” I dutifully relayed the question.

“My, he walks now!”

“Oh, my!”

That brought a smile to my face. Wow, walking already!.

“Anyway,” the Postier opened his satchel. “Here’s a message from Chagneux for the Regent. Some papers from the Council-,”

He handed me a bunch of envelopes. I quickly went through the messages. They were all ‘for your info’ stuff, nothing too serious that required my immediate reply. The winter had come to the Barony as well. Heavy snow here and there. Cold. But people were handling well. Larders, well stocked. Good. A Harpy had flown from Forez and spoke to Jehan? Good. Refugees from Montclam had settled in and were adjusting. Good.

Anna craned her neck and eagerly pushed her hand across.

“Sorry, milady, no letters for you.”

Anna pouted. She moved Lilly closer to me and stretched her neck to pore over the papers in my hands. I moved and angled them so she could have a better look, but I knew there wasn’t anything that would interest her.

“Tell Jehan,” I pointed towards our back, “the kind Sieur-knight of Perpillon has permitted us to use his castle.”

The Postier scanned the horizon and studied the blueish shape of Mount Clam.

“Hmm. If we set up a camp up on the ridge-,”

“Yes, that’s why,” then I scribbled on a small piece of paper some bullet points. A simple message for the Baroness, informing that her daughter was well. I, of course, had no intention whatsoever of telling her of Anna’s death. The Baroness would freak out for sure.

And then a few pointers and feedback for the topics mentioned in the Council’s reports. A thank you note for Chagneux for keeping up with additional mouths to feed. Et cetera, et cetera.

Les Postier’s base in Montclam would transcribe these onto clean sheets, separated by the intended recipients. And promptly deliver.

“I hear mother is worried, René,” said my brother, who had left father’s tavern to become a Postier. I gave him a quick, assuring smile.

“By the way, this is from the Vicomte,” the Postier remembered. He fished out a small note from inside the satchel and handed it over, this time to Anna. She read the message, then gave it to me.

It was short. Comte de Chartoise, as had been expected, fled the County with his family and retinue. Comte d’Armas had sent out words to all barons and seigneurs to come to the now-abandoned Count’s manor on the specified date. My Anna’s presence was requested.

I rode forward and showed the message to Sieur Henry.

“Geoffroi, it seems we are not going to Fort Soilet,” he showed the message to his friends, “Do you know the way?”

“Yes, indeed, I do.”

And so we set forth. With a new ally. Into the aftermath of a battle. A gaping hole in the County of Chartoise and its satellites. A power vacuum that my Anna had created, which our Comte d’Armas intended to exploit. With the two famed Lionceaux and the miraculous Roseborn by his sides, Comte d’Armas would have little to no problem convincing the aristocrats of Chartoise. Regarding the topic of; who is the rightful heir to the throne.