Juliette XII

PA 1.6

Since arriving in this new world, Juliette had long been plagued by bouts of… something. She wasn’t willing to call it depression, she didn’t think it was that bad, but she could admit that some days were better than others.

Today? Today was a bad day.

She hadn’t moved from her hammock in hours. She’d already met with Ya and Yan today, talked with the guards, Shimisi… But now she didn’t know what to do. And she couldn’t bring herself to get up and try. She just laid back, staring up at the ceiling. The slow rocking of the hammock almost lulled her to sleep, but no matter how tired she got, she just couldn’t fall asleep.

She blinked her eyes. Opening them back up took a herculean effort, but it felt worse to keep them closed.

“Fuck…” she groaned, her voice cracking and sore. She could… no, she couldn’t not get up. She needed to get out of this fucking hammock.

C’mon. Just… get up.

With halting, hesitant movements, she climbed out of her soft, comfortable…

Standing up in her cold bedroom, she wondered why she’d gotten out of bed.

But glancing back at it, the idea of getting back in it somehow made her feel ill.

She shook her head. No, no, she just needed… something. Some project to distract her. Something to do.

Maybe…

A quick trip downstairs for some supplies, a half hour later she was curled up in her room, the fireplace crackling merrily while she sat in front of it on a pile of soft furs, a blanket thrown over her shoulders. In front of her was a series of ceramic pots, ranging from cups smaller than her hands to vessels taller than she was sitting down. Beside them were a dozen small cups, filled with various paints with small, crappy brushes made from her own hair. She had no blues, but reds, whites, yellows, greens, and blacks gave her more than enough to work with.

Reaching down, she picked up the first ceramic, a wide plate the size of her head. Grabbing a brush, she hesitated, wondering what she should paint first.

Then she shook her head. It didn’t matter what she painted, just so long as she started. She’d just paint—leaves. Yes, leaves. She’d figure it out from there afterwards.

Nodding her head, she dipped her brush, and began to paint.

--

“Duchess Juliette,” a grating voice interrupted her, dragging her out of her happy place. Looking up from the pot she was painting a likeness of Shimisi on, she glared at Thing 1, her apologetic guard standing behind him. “I have a message for you from the King.”

Glowering at him, she turned back to her pots, ignoring him for now.

“Duchess.”

“Be silent,” she scoffed. “Unless it’s time sensitive, then it can wait until I’m done. Until then, please be so kind as to leave and wait downstairs for me to finish. Or just leave your message with my guards—actually, yes, I’d prefer that.”

“If I do that then you won’t come downstairs until tomorrow, if we’re lucky,” Thing 1 scoffed back, crossing his arms with a scowl. “As it is… no, I’ll just tell you it now. If you want to continue to ignore the King’s messages, then that’s on you.”

“Hm.”

“The Kingdom of Galloway has gone to war,” he told her. Despite herself, she glanced back up at him, suddenly wondering if they were also now at war. “They were attacked by the Kingdom of Light, to their north. The King has seen this as a wonderful opportunity to stab them in the back. While he’s preparing his forces, he’s ordered you and Duchess Saanvi to raid the Kingdom—take their stuff, disrupt their supply lines, whatever you see is best. Duchess Saanvi is already down by the docks, waiting for you to meet with her.”

His piece said, Thing 1 turned back around and left her room, her guard giving her one last apologetic bow before following him.

Juliette still sitting on the ground, clicked her teeth. A raid… she’d done those before, though never in preparation for war. Would it be any different? Should it be any different?

She grimaced, starting to get stressed. Damnit, and she was just starting to get out of her funk.

She clapped her cheeks lightly, forcing herself to focus. She wasn’t lying when she said she needed to finish this pot—if she stopped now, she’d be forced to start over later, or just scrap it completely. That was just how the paints worked.

Saanvi would just have to wait awhile until she finished.

--

Juliette sat quietly in Saanvi’s boat as she steered them down the river. Following behind them were a dozen other boats, each carrying three or four of her soldiers. The small, canoe-like boats were excellent for river travel, but lacked the space needed for carrying supplies along with people, so a half-dozen empty boats were being dragged along behind them.

They’d left King’s End around sunset, and by now night had long since fallen, draping them under the cover of darkness. They were headed downriver, further towards the coast than usual. The Kingdom of Galloway had nearly a dozen small settlements along the coast of the river. Most of them were small, semi-nomadic fishing communities, who made their livelihoods fishing and trading those fish with settlements further inland for other supplies.

It was one of those settlements they’d be raiding today. It was because they were easy, soft targets. By their very nature as ‘semi-nomadic’ they couldn’t set up walls to protect them, making it easy to simply rush in and out quickly.

Some of the ones closer to King’s End had actually started settling down and setting up walls specifically because of her past raids. It was why they were being forced to move so far away today.

The village they were coming up to now was one of those semi-nomadic villages, just a small group of a dozen tents arranged in a circle by the river. They were almost completely hidden by the forest, but the faint light of their dying campfire gave their location away.

A wave of nostalgia crept over her. Villages like these almost reminded her of when she started, when her own Kingdom was just a smattering of tiny tents struggling to survive.

Not that it would stop her from attacking this one, of course.

“Is that the one?” Juliette asked lowly, absently rubbing her hand against her dagger’s hilt.

“Mhm,” Saanvi hummed. “Aye, that’s it. It’s like, totally weak, fam. This’ll be easy.”

Juliette bit the inside of her lip to keep from cringing. “Good. Do you know where the storehouse is?”

“Yup yup,” her fellow Duchess nodded, before pointing at one of the tents along the edge of town. Juliette was forced to squint to make out where she was pointing at in the dim light. “That one, the lame one that just looks like all the other tents. But way too many people go in and out for it to just be a normal tent. It’s gotta be that one.”

“If you’re sure,” she grunted, squinting into the forest. She could have sworn she saw—

Wait, there. Movement. A person? A guard? Or just a villager? Could it even be an animal?

It didn’t matter. The Queen of Galloway wouldn’t leave a large force to defend an irrelevant fishing village during a war. Thirty soldier was overkill for something like this, but it wasn’t like they had anything better to do.

Before she knew it, they reached the coast, their boats drifting calmly in the shallows of the river.

“Right, let’s land!” Saanvi grinned slyly, raising a fist into the air. “All aboard the Saanvi train, woo woo!”

Juliette’s whole body cringed. “Billy-boy’s not around. I know that’s a mask. Why are you still acting like that?”

“That’s for me to know,” she reached up, attempting to tap her nose but only reaching her chin instead. “And you to find out~”

“Let’s just…” she sighed. “Let’s just move out.”

With that ridiculous parting conversation, Juliette jumped out of the boat, landing in the ankle-deep water with a splash. Around her the thirty soldiers she’d brought with her followed, dragging the boats the rest of the way onto land.

Raising her hand up in the air, Juliette let off a series of clicks.

One, two, three. Follow Juliette. One, two. Stay quiet. One, two, three, four, five. Avoid conflict, in and out.

Message sent, hopefully received. That done, she continued onto dry land, carefully moving into the trees.

And as she did, a strange, uncomfortable feeling arose in her chest. One she tried not to let herself acknowledge.

Excitement.

Despite knowing that what she was doing was wrong—that a few years ago she would have called anyone who did so evil…

She couldn’t help it. She was weakening her enemies—and strengthening herself in turn. It was productive. It made her feel productive, like she wasn’t wasting her life on pointless projects that didn’t bring her any closer to victory.

And a small part of her, one she buried down deep within herself, felt alive when on the field of battle, staring down enemy soldiers, adrenaline pumping through her veins. She knew she shouldn’t hope for a fight, that she should hope they got in and out without issue, but in the back of her mind she wanted one.

Regardless, she shoved the feeling down for now. She needed to focus—they were in enemy territory. Even against a soft target like this, one wrong move could spell disaster.

Two clicks from her left. Another two from her right. Again, from further away.

Everyone was in position. Saanvi was by the boats making sure they didn’t float away, while the rest surrounded the village from the trees. She took note of what guards she could see. Six at least, two of which looked a second away from falling asleep.

Deep breath. Hold. Release.

They advanced.

Juliette stepped into the clearing. Thirty soldiers followed her.

What happened next was both as disappointing as it was relieving. The guards took one look at her superior force and, wisely, put down their spears.

Calmly, Juliette walked forward, until she was but a foot away from one of the guards. She looked him in the eye—saw his fear, his anger, and his resignation.

Pathetic. She wanted to stab him. Wanted to fight. How dare this man just let them walk in. His duty was to guard these people—to protect them against an outside threat. She may have been that threat, but it made her seethe to think that this person would just give up like that.

“What kind of guard are you?” she scoffed, before walking past him without another word.

She stepped past the tents, into the center of the village. The large campfire in the center was the only light available, a soft glow from the cooling embers. Next to it was an old man, barely a hair left on his head and his face sagging with age. He glanced up at her and her soldiers.

His eyes narrowed. His shoulders tensed. He opened his mouth, and for one, surreal moment, she thought she was going to have to fight this old man.

Then it fell away with a sigh. The old man looked down, and continued tending to the cinders.

Juliette raised an eyebrow, and walked past him.

Arriving at the tent Saanvi had pointed her too, she took a look inside, mentally cataloguing everything within. Four clay pots with a stylized fish painted on them. One with red dots splatter across it—berries, perhaps? A pile of furs and another pile of bones. Two more pots which, after a cursory glance, were filled with the meat of whatever animal they’d killed for the previous piles.

With a nod, she stepped back, motioning for her soldiers to move in and start grabbing stuff.

She took it all.

She didn’t feel guilty about it—she knew what these tents were for. This was tribute, and tribute alone. Everything the village would eat or use was in their personal tents, while these storage tents were where they kept the tribute the Queen’s tax collectors would take.

She knew this because all the other villages did the same thing. Even the two villages in her own lands did this.

The pots weren’t that big, small enough that a single soldier could uncomfortably carry one each. Two of them carried the furs, and the bones required a full five people to carry the whole skeleton.

Within less than ten minutes, the whole tent was cleared out, and her soldiers were making their way back to the boats.

Her people were professionals, after all.

The guards glared at them as they left, but the old man by the campfire just continued morosely staring down into the flames as they vanished back into the trees.

Reaching the boats, half her soldiers began the process of properly storing their loads, while the other half turned back to watch the village warily. This was the most dangerous part of the operation; when you let your guard down because you thought you’d won. When half your forces were tied up with securing the loot, and you were left high and dry as the village you’d just finished pillaging stabbed you in the back.

She didn’t let her guard down, not until they were safely back in King’s End. She’d learned from experience.

“Everything A-OK?” Saanvi asked, sidling over next to her. “In and out, quickly and quietly?”

“Yes,” Juliette nodded, not taking her eyes off of—there. At least two of the guards she’d left behind. They were in the bushes, almost blending in. The rest were probably there too. Or maybe these were just the only ones stupidly brave enough to try.

She slowly, deliberately, raised her free hand and pointed directly at the guard. “I see you, little man,” she called out, her voice calm and even, barring perhaps the slightest, littlest amount of bloodlust. “Go home, unless your wish is to die today.”

The man froze in the bushes, his friend pausing as well. Then, slowly, they stepped away, retreating back to their village.

Juliette scoffed. ‘Some guards they were, indeed.’

“Wowzers!” Saanvi raised both her fists in the air, hearts in her eyes. “That was so badass! I’m shook, honestly and truly! Tell me, would you sign my chest?”

“Please, for the love of god, stop.”

Saanvi did not stop.

‘God I hate these people.’

9,883 God-Kings Remain