The handaxe whirled in the air and struck the kneeling barbarian’s face. It was only fortune that caused the haft to hit him rather than the sharp blade. Despite the stinging pain bringing tears to his eyes, the warrior didn’t move a muscle. The barbarian weathered the words like a boulder before a storm, earning his chieftain’s grudging respect.

“You left my son to die!” Surt Biorsson shouted.

Rage boiled in his chest, but another part of him was dismissive. So what if a son died? He could always sire another. But no, Thaer was the best of his lot. His other get were worthless lumps, unable to even get properly blooded. A part of him cared and another didn’t, and a tiny, tiny portion of his mind screamed in terror at what he’d become. The greater part revelled in his newfound power though.

“It was your own son’s unseemly lust,” a smooth voice interrupted Surt’s rage.

The Progenitor known as the Weaver of the Warp and Weft of the World. Surt tamped down the fires of his anger and bowed respectfully.

“It is partially my offence as well,” the Weaver continued. “I didn’t think that I would have met a warrior as strong as she.”

“You were defeated, Great One?”

The Weaver gave him a sharp stare but didn’t deign to answer, instead, he continued. “Send men to search. Your son might have survived.” With that, the slender Chaos Lord left the council chambers.

The other chiefs either didn’t meet his eyes or snickered under their breaths. The Tribes contended with each other for territory, women, and food. They rarely worked together. This humiliation was galling, especially since Erlend’s son, Assur had been in the same travesty and survived.

“Who?” he asked the warrior.

“Escaped women, my chief.”

“Hah!” The Frost Dancer’s chief, Jorand Fredriksson scoffed. “You were too soft, as usual. You should have broken them all.”

Surt waved a careless hand. “I don’t like sporting with dead fish.” Then he growled, “I think it’s high time to bury the isolated Imperial Camp. The Great Ones had given us power and information. They will have no recourse, no salvation.”

“My tribe hungers for blood,” Grim Naffson of the Ravaging Claw said. “And I want new playthings.”

Jorand scoffed. “If we are going for war, then there’s no room for…play.”

“Don’t be so stuck up, wolf!” Grim roared. “Have a little fun in life, ha!”

“Whatever you lot decide, the Iron Skin will bathe in blood,” Surt growled. “Now, excuse me while I tend to my son’s…chattel.”

He stalked out of the council room and into the Iron Skin quarters and stomped towards his own chamber. His wives attended to him with alacrity, removing his outer garments and seating him at his leisure chair. His concubines performed their usual dance and service, relieving him of his stress, but anger still bubbled underneath.

“Call for Thaer’s first wife.”

The girl came into his chambers within a few minutes, face already painted with the ashes of grief. Frida’s golden hair was pulled tight in a married woman’s bun but her attire was still that of a maiden’s, cinched at the waist and revealing an expanse of her bosom.

“You’ve been married to my son for a year,” he grunted. “Do you bear my grandson?”

Frida looked down on the floor and said meekly, “I do not know, my chief.”

Surt grunted. “If you don’t have one…well, I’d like nothing more for my son’s lineage to continue. Selina, watch her cycles and bring her to me if she bleeds.”

His latest concubine bowed. Both women trembled in proper respect and he dismissed both of them from his presence and his thoughts. Thaer might still be alive and he would send his warriors to look for him. If he wasn’t to be found, then he’d send the Imperials to accompany him to the cycle.

A week later and there was still no sign of Thaer. Of his corpse, or of his survival. But there was little else they could do.

________

Adeline Perry and her aide-de-camp, Murrie Dumont, clomped down the tower’s stairwell. The Builder corps did a great job making the fort, the towers, and the wall, even if the bare stone felt too austere. She’d have preferred wall hangings, tapestries or paintings, to liven up the place.

Her own quarters had a handsome rug that covered most of the floor, sparing her bare feet from the icy chill. That rug, as well as her side table and silver flower vases, were things she brought from her old quarters in Aegermonth. She had to leave her bed though, as there was not enough room in the initial transport to bring it over. And, once she arrived here, she thought that there was a huge chance that they’d have to abandon camp in a hurry and then she’d lose her bed.

So, the rug was easily replaceable even if it’d been with her for decades. The vases were…well, easily carried along.

The tower’s stairs eventually let them into the keep, and from there, they headed towards a conference room. Surprisingly there was a crowd of militiamen just outside, and the buzz of excited conversation filled the halls and the chamber.

“Oi! Give room here!” Murrie yelled and the crowd parted.

The two of them entered the chamber and found Centurion Lleufer and her co-pilot Decanus Cavin along with a couple of infantry centurions entertaining a bunch of women clad in stolen barbarian hides.

Adeline’s eyes picked out a young woman in a fashionable grey overcoat. Or rather, her eyes and her aide’s, as well as the majority of the people here, were drawn to that familiar-looking girl. She remembered her name after a moment, as it was rare to see someone of such beauty. Yuriko Davar, wasn’t it? Knight Marron Davar’s sister.

Adeline’s thoughts whirled. Yuriko Davar had been part of the interns who were lost during the raid nearly two years ago. Knight-Captain Davar’s daughter and a member of Sharom Academy. She had been friends and companions with Earl Sharine’s daughter, Gwendith Devi Sharine, who was also here.

Gwendith’s presence was overshadowed by Yuriko’s. And what’s this? A Chaos Lord? Why was she meekly standing behind Yuriko? Bound? It looked like it.

“Ahem!” she coughed to draw their attention since Murrie was busy staring with her mouth hanging open instead of doing her duty.

“Miss Davar, Miss Sharine,” she greeted, giving both a short bow, “I am relieved that you’ve found yourselves here. Miss Sharine, your grandfather, the High Adjudicator, has been pining away. I can now happily inform him of your safety.”

Miss Sharine’s eyes were cold, but she nodded her thanks. “Thank you. Ah, you look familiar? Apologies if I cannot remember your name, it has been a harrowing experience.”

“I completely understand. Fort Commander Adeline Perry, at your service. Last we met was back at Fort Aegermonth when the two of you, and another friend of yours, insisted on seeing action.”

Gwendith gave her a sharp look, but before she could say anything, Miss Davar interrupted.

“Is Ella-Mai safe?”

“Yes, your companion had been rescued a week after the raid. She has returned to Rumiga City and I’ve no more news of her.”

“Oh, thank the Ancestors,” Miss Sharine breathed.

Adeline observed the two girls, though one was already taller than she. There were ten women, including Gwendith, who were clad in makeshift or ill-fitting clothes, and from their countenance, they had been through a lot. “Please send these women to the clinic. Let our Healer corps take a look at them. Miss Davar, you weren’t a captive?”

“Not at all.”

“And who are these fine men and women?” Adeline gestured towards the disparate warriors. They were clad in differing outfits, but these were proper clothing rather than scavenged.

“Good day, Ma’am,” a tall, muscular man with dark hair and blue eyes, said, “Sheamus Dorn. Irregular scout conscripted from Delovine’s Coltherstone Fortress. We five are irregular scouts and are under the command of Miss Davar.”

Adeline felt her eyebrows try to climb past her hairline. As far as she knew, Miss Davar was still a student, right? But there was a niggling feeling coming from the beautiful girl. A sense of danger and power. She’s a Knight? Unbelievable!

“Gwen, go with the others to the healers. Desire said her hymns wouldn’t heal you completely, only give you strength in times of need. Better be safe.”

Miss Davar turned to the smaller blonde girl and said earnestly. Miss Sharine, for her part, blushed and nodded.

“Murrie, bring them to the healers please,” Adeline said.

“Yes, Ma’am.” Murrie bowed.

“Now, Miss Davar, and company, let's talk.”

______

The debrief lasted for quite a few hours and Commander Perry had to chase away the other Centurions and nosy rubberneckers. Yuriko’s impression of the woman was vague at best, but since the last time she saw her was during her first year internship, it was quite understandable.

What made things a bit awkward was that some of the other Centurions and legionnaires, not to mention militiamen, knew her and greeted her like old friends. Yuriko hadn’t the vaguest idea who they were or when and where she met them.

She tried to remember but from the disappointed expressions on their faces, she hadn’t fooled anyone.

She began her story with her trip to the Chaos Sea, how she met and rescued the scouts, and of course, how she rescued Desire from her…fellows.

“You really are a Knight?” the commander exclaimed along with the majority of the centurions.

“Er, yes. But I haven’t registered…”

“Oh, why not?”

Yuriko shrugged and didn’t answer. The commander nodded after staring at her for a good long while and said, “Well, I’ll not turn away a powerful warrior. The Ancestors know we’ll need everyone to hold on.”

They oohed and ahhed at her description of emerging in the Tidelands north of Ouera Bo, and at the daring rescue of the remaining captives. At the mention of their escape, specifically when they saw the herd, the commander perked up.

“That’s good news.”

“I agree. We can cripple the barbarians' supply if we drive away or kill the herds.” Yuriko said.

“No, no, that’s not what I meant. We’re also on short rations.” the commander said.

“Eh?”

“Four weeks ago, supply transports from Rumiga City, as well as any communications have stopped. Crane towers haven’t been built this far yet, we’re at least two hundred leagues from Fort Aegermonth after all,” Perry continued.

Yuriko frowned. “How long will supplies last?”

“Two Seasons’ worth, for five thousand.”

Yuriko blinked in surprise. “But that’s more than a hundred days. Surely you can send someone south and back at that time?”

“Yes. Actually, your brother, Knight Marron Davar volunteered. He left a few days ago.”

“Eh, Maru? Wait! Knight Marron Davar?” Yuriko yelped. And here she thought she finally got the jump on her brothers! Hmmm, should she go after him?

“Please stay here, for now,” the commander said.

“Oh.” Yuriko blushed. Was she that easy to read?

“Securing more supply and depriving the barbarians of theirs is vital,” one of the Centurions said.

“I agree,” the commander continued. “Preferably we capture as much of the herd and turn it into ration bars.”

“Eh, you’re going to turn venison into that cardboard!” the same centurion protested.

“Yes, since ration bars last forever. Anyway, only for the majority of the capture. We’ve only got a small fabricator.” The commander gave Yuriko a sideways glance, “For emergencies.”

Yuriko nodded. She gave them her map sketch of the herd’s location, but all of them took one look at it then averted their eyes.

“Thank you for your time, Knight Davar,” the commander said. “We’ll also debrief the others once the healers have cleared them. I’ll let you know when the raiding group is organised. Oh! Excuse me, I forgot to ask. Would you like to join the raiders or remain here as a defender?”

Yuriko shrugged. “Either works. When do you expect to go?”

“In a couple of days, at least.”

“Ah, then I’ll decide then.”

“Excellent. Then I’ll have Murrie give you a room to rest in. Ah, I’ve just the place. The quarters next to your brother’s are unoccupied.”

“Ah, that would be wonderful,” Yuriko said even though she knew Maru wasn’t here. It would only be a matter of time before he returned and she very much looked forward to glomping him.