All around him, in every direction was endless, whirling snow, a blizzard, the apotheosis of all blizzards. He stumbled through knee-deep drifts, snowblind, barely conscious, struggling through the blizzard step by sluggish step through sheer dogged willpower alone. His mind was as blank as the endless fields of whirling white. He had no idea where he was; which direction he was heading, but it didn’t matter: He was alone.

His right arm was numb, numbed beyond all sensation. He’d snapped off the arrows lodged in his shoulder and chest, could sense the arrowheads themselves grating against the bone, tearing his flesh in only the most distant, visceral way.

He was alone in the endless blizzards, blind, frozen blood crusted to his clothes, tears frozen to his face.

*****

Daveth opened his eyes on his cot as the tattered remnants of his nightmare evaporated in his mind. He reached for the arrows he knew weren’t lodged in his chest anyway. It’d felt so real. They always did.

He rose to a sitting position on his cot; rubbed his face with his hands. The short nap before the ball was a terrible idea, he decided, and scratched his beard. “Let dreams stay in the land of dreams.” He murmured in his mother’s language.

He had a ball to attend.

*****

The tinny sound of the harpsichord wafted through the massive ballroom, Daveth could see Aldric chatting lightly, casually with the young Duchess from across the room. Daveth’s mouth twisted wryly. He’d suspected Aldric was a Noble before; he certainly had the attitude and the clothing for it. The fact that he could laugh and joke casually with the girl was a confirmation.

Daveth was a little put off by the self-assurance that came with royalty, the smug certitude that everything was in tune with what they wished.

There was also some reluctance to be around the Edelweiss royalty themselves. Their skin was a pale white that was almost translucent, their hair was a lustrous but colorless white, their eyes were that strange, deep red that stood out starkly in contrast to the colorless rest of them. They all seemed to favor pale clothing too, which enhanced the effect.

“You are not dancing, my lord?” A low woman’s voice asked him from behind, startling him and causing him to turn around; hand dipping for a weapon reflexively. How had she snuck up on him?

He shook his head. “No, I’m not.” He said curtly, and then remembering Aldric’s words, added, “I’m not from here. I don’t know the steps.” he finished, trying for politeness.

She smiled up at him warmly, and he raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t seen her before, didn’t recall seeing her in the palace or even in the ballroom before. He would have remembered seeing someone so striking.

Her skin, like many of the nobles, was pale as milk, but her hair was a black as a raven’s wing and her eyes were a beautiful, mesmerising blue. She wore a striking blue and white dress that stood out against everyone else. The royalty all wore white, Aldric wore his double-breasted blue officer’s jacket, and Daveth himself stood out in his simple leathers and brown and gray brigandine coat. All of the local landed nobles wore muted shades of yellow or blue or green, pale pastels against the overbearing whiteness of everything else. He should have noticed someone wearing such a bold blue dress.

“That should not stop you from dancing, my lord.” She replied with an amused tilt to her face. “If you do not know the steps, perhaps you should ask a lovely young lady to show you... else you could offer to show a lovely young lady the steps you do know.” She offered by way of conversation.

He chuckled. “A bold seduction.” he remarked with a smile, and she laughed, placing a delicate hand to her chest.

“Certainly not, my lord. My husband would slay us both.” She sipped lightly at her drink. “Or do you imply that I am a lovely young woman?” She asked coyly. “You flatter me, My Lord.”

“I’m not-” He started, but then looked away for a moment to compose himself. “I’m a soldier, not a lord.” he finished in a more polite tone, and smiled briefly. “My ballroom is on the battlefield, and my dance is war.”

The woman nodded. “I know. You are Daveth, Second-in-command of the Seventh Seal.” She placed her hand familiarly on his wrist. “I am Svara.”

There was a moment where he waited expectantly for her to name her house, titles and affiliations, but she simply stopped with her first name.

“Greetings.” He managed, with a nod. She smiled at him and asked, “Will you take mead with me?”

“Mead?” He asked, and she nodded, and offered him the cup she held.

He took it from her, and noticed it wasn’t a cup, but a drinking horn. Or at least, a cup fashioned to look like a drinking horn, but crafted from silver and decked with scrollwork and gems.

He eyed the cup and took a drink. He knew that mead was brewed from honey, so he expected something heavy and cloying, thick and sweet, and was surprised it was dry and light and much easier to drink than he’d expected.

“How much do you know of Nauders, my lord?” She asked curiously, after he’d drank. He shook his head. “Not much. I know the lay of the land from what I’ve seen on maps.”

Her eyebrows rose a little at this. “I will tell you a little about these lands, then.” She offered, and Daveth nodded.

“Nauders has been around since...” She shrugged noncommittally. “Since time immemorial.” She said with a snorted chuckle. “At least a thousand years.”

“At least?” Daveth asked, and Svara shrugged.

“We’re not conquerors or kings. We live, we farm, we have a fair every spring where we celebrate the passing of another great winter. There have been times when we have had to march to war, but those times are few and far between.”

She gestured with her cup and Daveth sipped mead from the horn. There was a moment when he wondered where she’d picked up a second cup, but dismissed it.

“It’s only recently,” She paused. “Recent as far as Nauders is concerned,” She added, and then continued. “It’s only recently that we’ve changed at all: We joined the Anglish Empire little more than three hundred years ago.” She eyed Daveth over the rim of her cup. “Recent, compared to the rest of our history.” He nodded to show he understood.

“The White House of Nauders has always been. It was a pillar of constancy for us for hundreds of years before Nauders became a Duchy. When the officials of the Anglish Empire came seeking our “royalty” we offered them the White House, because they have always been with us, offering a kind word, a bit of advice. They have always set high in our councils.” She laughed. “So we had to learn how to fit into the Anglish Empire’s ideas of what a kingdom should be.” She gazed fondly at the Duchess.

“During the War of Liberation three hundred years ago, we were betrayed by Landeck and their false priests.” She stated bitterly. “It was a dark time.”

“Forgive me; White House?” Daveth asked.

“Ah. Those of the Edelweiss, those blessed with snow-white skin and all-seeing eyes.” She explained, gesturing at the albinos of the Duchy clustered around Aldric.

Daveth shrugged dispassionately. “I haven’t yet found a place that didn’t have some painful history during the War of Liberation, Svara.” He remarked patronizingly. “There’s likely no single place in all of Aggenmor where you would find ‘Hey I had a great time during the War of Liberation, can’t wait to do it again!’ He added with a sarcastic sneer. She glared at him at that, but then smiled disarmingly again.

“So now you have a basic understanding about the land of Nauders, Lord Commander Daveth. What do you think? Do you think that the House of Edelweiss should rule? Or perhaps do you think that a new claim to the throne might be more in tune with what the land needs?” she asked. Daveth let out a snort of laughter, she was clearly from the faction that would likely meet the Seventh Seal on the field of battle.

He shrugged disinterestedly. “Honestly, I don’t care. I’m a soldier. The ... political maneuverings of nobility don’t mean a thing to me.” he replied curtly, turning his gaze back to the party. “I’m not from here, so who rules is irrelevant.” He expected another angry glare, but instead she smiled up at him.

“Apologies, my lord. I did not wish to offend.” He frowned a little. How was that offensive? he wondered.

“I am trying to ask you what you think of Elenora Edelweiss.” She finished. He glanced over at the young Duchess, and felt a heartbeat of adrenaline when their eyes met. She smiled at him, her dark eyes probing his face from across the room.

“So that’s her name?” He asked curiously, and then sipped at his drink. “Nothing in particular.” He replied finally. “Young, pretty. Seems to have a head on her shoulders.” he shrugged a little.

Svara laughed a little, the tinkling of bells.

“You are most at home on the battlefield, yes?” She asked curiously. He nodded and rolled his eyes a little. “Sort of my job.” he said tightly. She nodded.

“The pounding of the great drums, the crack of gunfire, the song of steel against steel.” She murmured and he nodded, surprised.

“I have seen a few fights in my life, Lord Commander.” She remarked. “They are a far cry different from the palatial etiquette one must display in ballrooms.” She remarked with a smirk. “Though not as fun perhaps as dancing. Are you sure you will not dance?” She asked again.

He shook his head. “No, thank you, though.” He replied and she nodded as if she expected the answer. He expected her to leave, but she stood by his side calmly, watching the couples drift around the ballroom floor, or stop by the massive banquet tables to sample the treats offered.

“You don’t dance, you don’t eat, you barely drink.” She mused, never taking her eyes off of him. “You’re watching everyone. You realize that doing this makes everyone watch you in turn, right?” She asked curiously. He shrugged at this dismissively.

“Are you perhaps looking for the ones behind this revolt?” She asked. He shrugged again. “Not really. I was asked to attend this function.” He stated. “I don’t feel comfortable here.” She nodded.

“Do you think there’s someone behind the riots?” She asked. He shrugged again. “Up until about five hours ago, I didn’t even know there had been riots here.” He stated roughly.

“Forgiveness, my lord.” She replied quietly. He raised an irritated eyebrow at this. He was no lord.

A memory, long forgotten suddenly surfaced in his mind and his eyes widened at the thought. His eyes darted to the Duchess consideringly, and then he raised his eyebrow and considered Svara.

“Yes?” She asked expectantly.

“Ah.” Daveth said, and raised his hand a little. “I just remembered something. A legend or a story or some such from my youth.” he said, and her eyes narrowed a fraction as he drank absently.

“Oh?” She asked. He nodded. “It sort of fits this place, too. I can’t remember it all, though. Something about Weiss Frauen and Schwarz Frauen.”

She laughed lightly. “You accuse the Duchess and I of being of Alfstand?” She asked gaily.

He chuckled at that, and raised his hands disarmingly. “I’m just saying it’s a story that came to mind.” he said, and she laughed again. “Aside from the Eyrie, there are no elves in the Duchy of Nauders. We drove them out centuries ago.”

“The Eyrie?” Daveth asked, curious.

“A small tribe of winged elves that live atop one of the mountains of the Spine, My Lord. We have a peace between us. No, Commander. We are not cannibal elves, haunting crossroads and ruins, waiting to pounce on and devour those who see us.” She said, shaking her head and smiling.

“I didn’t think so.” He said.

“It’s an old story, though.’ She said. “Wherever did you hear it?” She asked curiously.

“From my mother, I think. She used to tell me they would come for me at night if i disobeyed.” She laughed again, and he laughed with her.

“Tell me about the riots.” He said, glancing at her from the side. She nodded.

“Surely. Lately there have been irrational protests and all sorts of strange accusations in the streets. Things like how the House of Edelweiss had levied too many taxes. That it is difficult to buy and sell goods. All lies, of course. The laws don’t change often here, and when they do it’s because of lean times. Winters are especially harsh, and in those times, the taxes go down, not up. There are laws that fix prices so that they don’t skyrocket, ensuring that nobody is completely impoverished during the winters, but the House of Edelweiss is far from an oppressive family.”

“Then why rebel?” He asked.

“Exactly.” She agreed. “Some of the people that have been arrested suggest that we should embrace more trade, or some other nonsense- as if they couldn’t travel down the Landsberger to Doran themselves!” She complained, and he laughed.

“Complaining about things like that is the right of all peasants, I suppose.” He murmured, and she shrugged uneasily. “Well, complaining is one thing, but rioting- starting fights, lighting fires, defacing public buildings- these things are inappropriate.” She stated. “Whoever they are, they are quick whip up a mob and then fade."

"So there is someone?" He asked. She smiled but remained silent.

"If they’re truly after the throne as you say, why don't they make a legitimate claim to the throne instead of this roundabout bullshit?" He questioned irritably. He caught himself and took a drink of the mead and apologized. "Sorry for my uncouth tongue." He added, and she laughed.

"Fear not, Lord Daveth. You've not upset my delicate sensibilities." She remarked, touching his arm familiarly again. “But to answer your question, they can’t. The line of Edelweiss is matriarchal and inherited, Lord Daveth.”

“So... if they want to take the throne, they’d have to... what, marry into the family?” He asked, confused.

“Their children would have an opportunity to rule, I suppose.” Svara replied. “But they will have been raised in the house of Edelweiss, so...” She trailed off. He nodded.

“So that’s why they want to... what, completely remove the house of Edelweiss from power?” He asked. She nodded.

“We should be on the lookout for assassins, then.” He stated, and she nodded.

“Yes you should.”

“And you?” He asked abruptly. “What’s your involvement?”

She smiled warmly. “You must think me a spy for Elenora’s uncle.” She accused, raising an eyebrow. “But no, my desires don’t encompass who rules Nauders, Lord Daveth, except as much as who remembers me.”

Daveth raised his eyebrows. “Her uncle? What does her uncle have to do with this? Is that who stands against her?” He asked curiously. The woman raised her eyebrows, equally surprised, and then nodded. “Yes, that is who stands against her. Her father’s brother. He believes the rule of the Edelweiss is approaching its end.”

He raised an eyebrow at this. Remembering his chat with Aldric earlier, he wondered what she was playing at with these declarations. Was she trying to instigate something?

“Why tell me?” He asked.

“Because I am not a spy.” She remarked, but he was suddenly interrupted by the approach of Aldric.

“-and here’s my impertinent second-in-command, Daveth.” Aldric said smoothly. Daveth turned away from Svara and faced Aldric and Elenora, along with her entourage, Aldric with a frown on his face.

“Daveth, I’m sure you were at least paying attention when we were introduced to the Duchess?” Aldric said, a note of warning in his voice.

“I’m not a complete idiot, Aldric.” Daveth replied curtly, irritated, and Aldric winced.

Dammit, I’m going to pay for that, aren’t I? Daveth thought as he faced Elenora and inclined his head.

Duchess Elenora laughed lightly in that husky, melodious voice of hers. “There’s no need to bow, Lord Commander.” She remarked, an amused light in her eyes.

Aldric was struggling with himself; Daveth had committed several faux pas over the course of a scant few seconds and he was obviously wanting to take Daveth to task. The Duchess however, seemed to be more forgiving of Daveth’s arrogant ignorance and made polite allowances for him.

To the left of the Duchess her captain was of a mind with Aldric, their expressions matching. The Duchess was focused on Daveth seemingly to the exclusion of all else. Her eyes were intense, probing on his face.

Daveth turned to include Svara, but she seemingly disappeared into thin air.

“Huh, where’d she get off to?” he wondered aloud, and glanced around. She should be easy to spot in her dress.

“Who?” The Duchess inquired curiously.

“The woman I was just with. Svara. She said something that might be interesting about this coup you’ve hired us for.” he remarked distractedly, glancing over the heads of everyone.

Alric peered at him strangely, and the Duchess was eyeing him speculatively.

“Daveth, you’ve been standing by yourself the entire time.” Aldric said carefully. “Duchess, I beg your indulgence, clearly Commander Daveth has let his drink get to-” he started, but the Duchess interrupted him.

“I do not know of anyone named... What did you say her name was?” The Duchess inquired as Daveth glanced about.

“Svara. She said your uncle was behind your rebellion.”

She glanced towards her brother Falki, whose face was suddenly and carefully neutral. “No one in the House of Edelweiss would stand against me in this fashion. They were the ones who appointed me, after all.” She replied tersely.

“Your father’s brother. He wasn’t of your house, right? The line of Edelweiss is matriarchal, right?” Daveth mentioned offhand, still glancing around. He turned back to them, and discovered Elenora and her family were staring at him oddly. “You sure you haven’t seen her?” he asked. Both the Duchess and Aldric shook their heads.

“Lord Captain Aldric, I believe I’d like to speak with your man here a moment.” The Duchess decided, and Aldric frowned minutely.

“I-” He started, and then shook his head. Fixing a baleful eye on Daveth, threatening without saying anything, Aldric bowed and left.

The Duchess eyed him speculatively. “Pardon, Lord Daveth, but how much do you know of our... Edda?”

“I don’t know that word, to be honest,” he replied.

She raised her hand casually in a simple movement, and a waiter hurriedly ushered over bearing a tray of small tidbits. A second appeared with a couple of glasses of a nearly colorless wine.

“Our Edda is ... our history. A collection of histories and tales and legends and stories about our country, going back a thousand years. Everyone in my duchy knows at least part of it...” She said, and then added reluctantly, “which is why there will never be a woman named... Svara.” She finally stated.

“Who was I speaking with?” He asked. She shrugged minutely, nibbling on her sweetmeat.

“It is said in our Edda that before the War of Liberation, there was a great warrior-woman, and her name was Svara.” Falki spoke up. “She fought across many battlefields and was instrumental in freeing us from the false priests of Landeck.” The Duchess glanced up at him, and her ruby eyes were very somber as Falki continued his explanation.

“Her fury on the battlefield was as legendary as her beauty. She disappeared, however, and it is said that she was elevated to the valkyrja, immortal soldiers that fight forever.”

“Legends, Lord Commander.” She said as if to remind him, white eyebrows rising pointedly. She laughed self-embarrassedly and wiped her fingertips on a handkerchief, but Daveth thought briefly that she was trying to convince herself.

“In my land we occasionally name our children after our heroes in the hopes that they too will write their own legends.” he replied, explaining. “An inspiration, and tribute. It’s totally possible that-” She shook her head at this, holding her hand up to interrupt him.

“Many of our heroes were violent and passionate men and women who won their fame in the manner that they knew best.” She said knowingly, adjusting her light shawl about her thin shoulders. “Were we to name our children after them, we would invite their wrath upon us.” She shook her head. “No, this is not what we would wish for our people, Lord Commander.” She let out a breath. “What woman would want her daughter to be named after the Raven of War?” She asked wonderingly. “An ill omen, at best.”

She glanced away, and gestured towards one of the larger balconies that overlooked the gardens.

“You will escort me.” She commanded imperiously, and her brother stiffened, an objection forming on his lips. Her eyes went to him, and she shook her head. “I said he will escort me, Brother.” She glanced up at Daveth. “Have no fear, I will be safe with him.”

Daveth frowned, but extended his arm. She nestled her hand in his arm and allowed him to escort her to the patio.

*****

“Why is Nauders a ‘duchy’ and not a ‘kingdom’?” Daveth asked, changing the subject abruptly as they walked towards the balcony. The duchess’ eyes widened and fraction and she raised an eyebrow speculatively at him. “Politics, Lord Commander?” She inquired curiously. “I hadn’t expected a question like this from you.”

“Well, I wasn’t making much headway with Svara, so satisfy my curiosity, would you?” He said with a chuckle to which she joined in briefly.

“As long as House Edelweiss holds the throne, Nauders will always be a duchy in the great Anglish Empire.” the young Duchess replied, a touch of pride in her voice.

“Even though the Anglish Empire is a shadow of its former self?” Daveth asked, and the albino nodded with a small smile.

“Long before the Anglish empire, we of the White House were stewards of the land, watching over it. We did not grow our influence, we did not craft monuments or wage wars. We watched over the land and lived within an equilibrium with it.”

“Hmm. not unlike some elf tribes.” Daveth remarked, thinking back to his conversation with the woman that called herself Svara.

“Exactly. The Anglish Empire asked us for our leal service, and we agreed, so long as we were allowed to continue our stewardship.” She leaned against the railing of the balcony and looked out over the treetops to the city. “They may have forgotten us, but we have not forgotten our vows to them.” She said with a smile. “Vows and oaths are important to us, Lord Commander.” She shook her head. “No, it can be said that vows and oaths are part of what we are. We keep our oaths. If an Anglish official came to us and demanded the taxes due them for the past three hundred years, I would make sure he had sufficient wagons with which to carry it all.”

She smiled up at Daveth. “I can stand to be Duchess I suppose, but Queen? I would decline with all my heart.” He nodded at that.

“Who told you of my uncle, Lord Commander?” She asked pointedly, and then raised her other hand to forestall his answer. “And do not say it was her. There is no one at this banquet with that name.” Daveth shrugged, frustrated. “I could tell you a lie, if you like.” He remarked flippantly, and she frowned, mouth twisting.

“To think it could be my uncle...” She mused. “Well, we have no proof, so...” She trailed off and eyed the silver drinking horn he’d received from Svara as he raised it to his lips.

“That-” She blurted, and cut herself off abruptly. “Where did you get-” She glanced up at his face, crimson eyes narrowing dangerously. “You would just tell me more fanciful stories, would you not?” She accused angrily.

She rubbed at her temples. “Nevermind. Lord Commander Daveth, let us agree that you were visited by a miracle, and let us not discuss it any further.” She said, but she eyed the bejeweled drinking horn as he drank from it.

“What are you drinking, may I inquire?” She asked courteously. He raised an eyebrow. “Mead. It’s not bad. I sort of thought it would be sweeter.”

She closed her eyes and sighed.

“You should keep the drinking horn, my lord.” She suggested wearily. “It was a gift, after all.”

He sighed, closed his eyes, and rubbed the small scar across the bridge of his nose. “Duchess, you’re suggesting a lot but saying very little.” He said wearily. Her eyebrow twitched at that, but instead she changed the subject.

“How did you get the scar across your nose?” She asked curiously. “Does it hurt?”

He snorted a little at her subject change. “No, it doesn’t hurt. I got it months ago, far to the south and across the seas.” She opened her mouth to say something, but glanced to the side, looking in at the ballroom. “I will provide you with a liaison, so that you may-” she began, but Daveth cut her off roughly, brows lowering at that announcement. He didn’t much like the sound of that.

“A liaison?” He interjected. “The Seventh Seal does not-” She cut him off just as quickly as he had, with a frown that mirrored his own.

“Yes, a liaison.” She stated peremptorily, locking her eyes with his own, white brows furrowed in irritation. “My people do not know yours, Lord Commander, and were you to start taking actions in my name, they would object and resist. One of my cousins will assist you.” She twisted to the side a little and glanced up at him with slanted eyes.

He cocked an eyebrow at that, and she smiled at him. “You doubt her prowess? Have no fear, she is quite strong, and versed in combat. She once bested six bandits on her own.” her smile faded and she stepped away from him and leaned against the pale balustrade.

“Our time is coming to a close. Very soon now, my Lord General will find some reason to interrupt us.” She said quietly with a small smile Daveth couldn’t see. “I had hoped to speak with you further.” She shook her head a little. “Perhaps there will be other times where I might bend your ear a little.” She said with a small half-smile.

“Why me and not Aldric?” Daveth asked, eyeing her carefully from his drinking horn.

“Your Lord Captain speaks the way we do; like nobles and royalty, with guarded phrases and careful speech.” She pushed away from the balcony, turned and slipped her arm into his again. “It is not a bad thing to do this I think, but it is refreshing to speak with someone as blunt and open as you.”

She gestured back towards the ballroom and they began moving towards the ballroom. She smiled up at Daveth as her brother could be seen with two other relatives, one of which wore a long red coat that stuck out against the paleness of the ballroom.

“Told you so.” She murmured up at him.