Martin wasn’t sure what he’d find as he crossed over the threshold of the doorway into Kairon Aoun. Still, he wasn’t surprised with who he saw lined up on both sides of the road that led toward the Third Terrace’s Gatehouse, and the former Goblin Empire’s palace.

Lapanterian, Erlenberg and Erisdalian soldiers bearing polished weapons and clean uniforms. The wounded were included, either sitting in chairs with weapons resting against their shoulders.

The flags behind the soldiers were being carried at half-mast. No trumpet blew to announce the Lightning Battalion’s arrival.

Martin rode up to a party of people standing at the crossroads consisting of Frances, Timur, Edana, Alexander, King Sebastian and Megara. Aching slightly from the long ride, the knight dismounted and walked the few steps to the party.

“Thank you for holding on,” said Martin, extending a hand.

Sebastian shook it, clasping his arm as he did so. “Thank you for coming to our aid, Your Majesty,” he said.

Martin swallowed, but gave a firm nod. “Let’s get down to business. What do we need to do?”

“Where’s Ginger? We need to plan your coronation—”

The eponymous maid strode up, brushing back sweat-matted hair from her face. “She’s here, and let’s make it simple. Get everybody we can and we’ll get crowned. Make sure Janice is holding the crown.”

That took Sebastian and Megara aback. “Are you sure that’s wise?” the Lapanterian Queen-Consort asked.

“What, getting Janice to hold the crown or the quick coronation?” Ginger asked.

“No, Janice holding the crown is a good idea, but a quick coronation seems rather informal. I mean, King Jerome and Forowena just passed. We haven’t held their funeral,” said Sebastian.

Martin and Ginger exchanged a look. Taking each other’s hands, they faced their compatriots.

“We’re at war, in the middle of a siege. I think people are going to understand,” said Martin. “That’s our final decision.”

Ginger nodded. “In the meantime, let’s go somewhere private. We need to review the current battle plans.”

***

Martin drummed his fingers on the map table, his other hand leafing through reports. Ginger paced around the table, biting her finger.

Elizabeth was pouring over a second stack of reports and muttering to herself. Ayax was taking a nap on a chair, her tail curled up onto her stomach. The others watched them, not quite sure what the newly arrived were doing exactly.

“Why do you three look so puzzled?” Timur asked, one hand twirled into his hair.

“Liz, is this me, or does this plan not make sense?”

“No it’s not just you.” Elizabeth put down a drawing of two swords onto the table. “From King Jerome and Queen Forowena’s personal correspondence and the notes that Captain Severus and Ulric were writing, it appears that the plan was to kill Thorgoth in an ambush with these two enchanted blades, but I don’t think they would have been that effective.”

Frances took a quick look, and Ayax, yawning, waltzed over to examine the drawings in more detail. Edana peered over both of their shoulders.

“They’re good blades. They’d break shields and be resistant to spells, but while it’d improve ones chances of fighting a mage, it would be no guarantee,” muttered Edana.

“The reports here indicate that several other ambush sites had actually been set up in Kairon Aoun before the one with the warehouse was chosen,” said Martin. He pressed down on the report pile with his finger. “But it wouldn’t have been a guarantee and yes, Queen Forowena was the type of strategist and tactician to take risks, but this would have been stupid.”

“We’re missing a piece of the puzzle.”

Ginger’s soft proclamation drew the group’s attention, but it was her narrowing of eyes at a particular pair of mages in attendance that made all freeze.

“Jim, Nicole, Frances briefed me that you are in the know about something. Care to explain that missing part of the plan now?” Ginger growled.

Nicole and Jim exchanged a meaningful glance before both nodded. “Of course, Your Majesty.” Reaching into their robe, the female Otherworlder produced a wax sealed letter which they handed to Martin.

The knight gestured to his wife, who scurried over. Together they read the paper in silence. Their faces bore neutral expressions at first.

Slowly, Ginger closed her eyes tight, her teeth clenched. Martin looked up and let out a deep, shuddering sigh before returning his gaze to the letter. He did however take ahold of Ginger’s hand, which she’d draped over his shoulder.

“Frances, Edana, we need your mirrors. We need to make a call, but first, you should all read this,” said Martin, putting the paper on the table

***

Flapping her wings, Sara narrowed her eyes at the carved stone arches of the Greenway. To think that this massive underground highway had been made by hand was nearly impossible. Yet as she examined the stonework, she could see the marks of pickaxes and chisels.

“Having fun up there?” Helias called up.

Sara grinned. Slowing her wingbeats, she let herself lazily drift down toward her husband and his horse.

“Yes. It’s nice to have the opportunity to stretch my wings for once. Are you sure it’s a good idea to take me out on a patrol, though?” the harpy-orc asked.

“It’s not exactly a patrol. One of our supply convoys is rather late and I need to check it out.” Helias held Sara’s arched eyebrow for a moment before he chuckled. “Well, I need it as an excuse to check it out so I can leave the festivities.”

Sara snorted. “Shouldn’t you ought to be celebrating with the rest of your troops?”

The general shrugged. “I’ve been to so many of them that I prefer spending time with you.”

Sara giggled, her cheeks turning slightly red. “Would you give up wine, and food for me?”

Helias’s tone was light, but he couldn’t help but smile at his wife. “Same wine that we get and the food’s not particularly great. It’s far more stimulating to spend the evening with you.”

Hovering beside her husband, Sara chuckled. “I’m flattered, Helias, but if it’s all the same with you, I would prefer a lovely rack of lamb for dinner tonight along with some wine. I’ll provide the after-dinner entertainment.”

“What kind of after-dinner entertainment?” Helias asked, arching one eyebrow.

Sara’s smile froze for a moment, but she took a quick breath. “Well, I’m a little out of practice, but I am a pretty good dancer,” she said, her voice husky.

The tauroll blinked. “I didn’t know that. Though, that does explain the manuals you asked me to buy some time ago.”

“Oh? You remembered? That was a while ago,” Sara said, her eyes widening a little. That let her catch Helias’s smile.

“I remembered because it was such an unusual request. I didn’t question it at the time because you were pregnant and I figured you wanted to read something,” said the general.

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Sara sighed. “Honestly I just wanted anything to take my mind off of my mother’s death.”

Helias nodded, reaching out to touch his wife’s outstretched hand. “When we finish this campaign, I can have a small memorial set up in private where her ashes can be interred.”

“I’d like that. Thank you, H—” Sara blinked her almond-shaped eyes narrowing at something on the ground ahead. “Helias, what’s that?”

The general pulled his horse to a stop. Drawing his Fangroar, the tauroll cantered more closely to the object. It was a rectangular package wrapped in brown paper and twine, stamped with ink.

“That looks like one of our packets of fresh bread.” Helias pointed his blade-wand at the package and muttering a spell, unwrapped it.With another Word of Power he brought the loaf of bread toward him along with the wrapping paper. “Yes, this is one of our supply packs lying in the middle of nowhere.”

“Fell off by the last supply convoy?” Sara asked.

“Not according to the date. It was baked a week ago.” Helias ran a finger over the stamp with the date. “This should have come with the delayed convoy that we are looking for.”

“But where’s the convoy?” Sara whispered.

The pair exchanged a glance before looking around, the walls of the Greenway that had seemed so spacious now loomed over them, their sheer height staring down at the couple.

Sara swallowed. “Let’s go back.”

“Let’s—” Helias’s eyes widened and he started turning his horse around. “Sara, fly back first, hurry!”

“Helias, what—” Sara gasped as she caught what her husband had seen. Ahead of them, the Greenway curved ever so slightly, which the harpy-orc hadn’t noticed, until she locked eyes with the squad of orc boar-riders ahead of them.

“Declare yourselves!” Helias bellowed.

The riders trotted slowly towards them, pistols and lances at the ready. “We are for Queen Titania. If you are for King Thorgoth, surrender or die!”

Sara turned and flew. Flapping as hard as she could, she chanced a glance over her shoulder to see her husband galloping furiously beneath her. He was firing spells to their rear, scattering the orc boar riders.

Thankfully, at the distance they were at, Helias’s horse was outpacing the boars before they could get to full speed. They flew through the Greenway as fast as they could, until Sara could see the orcs had abandoned their pursuit.

Only then did she fly back down beside Helias.

“Where the fuck did they come from?” she gasped.

Helias slowed his horse down, looking over his shoulder again. “I have no idea. They…they’re behind our army. How many is the question.” The general turned to his wife. “Sara, get to our tent. I’m going to get a patrol to check this out.”

***

Thorgoth could see the flickering of candlelight through his eyelids. He could hear someone muttering Words of Power close by.. Blinking, wiping the sleep from his lashes, he rolled himself to a sitting position on his campaign bed.

Berengaria, back silhouette by the lantern, was waving her wand over the two swords that they’d taken from King Jerome and Queen Forowena.

“Berengaria, come to bed. We need our rest before the final assault,” said the Demon King.

“Thorgoth, this is important.” The harpy grimaced and cast another spell. “I’m beginning to have some concerns about—” Berengaria squealed as Thorgoth slipped a hand underneath her loose shift, tickling her back. “Dammit Thorgoth!”

“Aw but you get so pouty,” Thorgoth crooned, planting a soft kiss on Berengaria’s cheek. “Sorry, but really you should go to bed. You woke me up with your spellcasting.”

Berengaria winced and returned the kiss on Thorgoth’s lips “I’m sorry husband. It’s just… something’s bizarre about these swords.”

“They’re enchanted blades, what’s so odd about them?” Thorgoth asked.

The harpy ran a claw down the fuller of the blade, eyes narrowed. “They’re good blades, but no normal human would have a good chance of killing you with these. I thought there might be something hidden with them, but no.”

“They are incredibly high quality, though. Nobody could really create these without specialised equipment and spells,” said Thorgoth. Even so, the king found himself frowning.

“They are high quality, maybe even a little innovative, and I daresay even quite powerful. However, they are not weapons requiring huge amounts of secrecy,” said Berengaria.

Thorgoth sat down next to his wife. “Berengaria, what are you saying?”

The harpy met her husband’s now one-eyed gaze. In a low tone, she whispered, “Something’s very wrong about these swords, and about this whole situation. Just…why are the humans fighting us here?”

“It’s a fortified position. They’d lose Athelda-Aoun, the Lightning Battalion’s base as well as a major frontier settlement. If we defeat them, we can plunder Erisdale,” said Thorgoth, one hand scratching at the scar that led up to his new eyepatch.

“Alright, but they know that even with reinforcements, they’d lose, with the dragons on our side, the larger army, and you. Why not disperse their armies and fight us in a guerilla campaign?” Berengaria asked.

Thorgoth waved his hand, twisting his head slightly to get a better look at his wife through his eye. “They’d never win the war that way. They hurt me, but with some time and healing I can even recover this eye. I can still see light actually.”

“That’s what I don’t understand—” the couple scowled as there was a short call from the Royal Guard at their pavilion’s entrance.

“Milord! General Helias with an urgent message.”

“Tell the general it can wait,” Berengaria squawked.

There was some muttering outside. The pair heard Helias hiss something at the guard, who called out again, “Priority One Message from General Helias. In private.”

“Tell the general to wait a moment.” Thorgoth got up and pulled on a shirt. “What could possibly be bothering the general that he’d use that?” he asked, as he placed his imitation White Crown of Alavaria on his head.

“I have no clue—thank you dear,” said Berengaria as Thorgoth helped her into a red dress.

The pair soon exited the sleeping quarters of their pavilion into the receiving area, where two high-backed wooden chairs that serve as Thorgoth and Berengaria’s temporary thrones were placed. The entire floor of the pavilion was covered with purple-toned carpet and rugs, with one long embroidered maroon carpet leading to the entrance.

Crossing her leg over the other, Berengaria glanced at her husband, who nodded. Taking a breath, the harpy queen bellowed, “General Helias, you may enter and you better have a good reason for disturbing us at this hour.”

The pavillion’s flaps were thrown open as the tauroll ran in, Fangroar in his hand. Thorgoth arched an eyebrow, tensing slightly until the general knelt down, his blade’s tip resting on the ground.

“Your Majesty, we need a privacy spell around this tent now.”

“General, our pavilion is spelled against eavesdroppers. Go ahead.” Thorgoth’s tail waved slowly as he realised that the general was in full armour and covered in dust. His boots were covered with spray from mud and dirt. “You’ve been riding hard.”

“Your Majesties, I bring dire news. I was investigating the late supply convoy meant to arrive two days ago. I found out why they’re late,” Helias stammered. The tauroll froze, suddenly becoming very still, except for his fingers. They seemed to squeeze around the handle to his blade all the more tightly.

“Spit it out, General,” said Thorgoth.

“We’re surrounded. An army of at least a division’s size, led by the rebel leader Titania, has deployed behind us and is fortifying the Greenway as we speak.”

“What.”

“I suspected the bitch Sparrowwing had made you a bit softer, but I didn’t expect her to addle your mind!”

Helias stood up, sheathing his sword. “Your Majesties, I was ambushed by boar riders during my ride along the Greenway and barely escaped with my life. When I returned to camp, I immediately led a company to determine the size of the raiding party, only to be met with the sight of their army. We’ve been completely cut off. Please, what are your orders?”

Berengaria was shaking her head. Her wings were spreading open, as the down of her neck fluffed up by instinct. “What you say isn’t possible, General. We have patrols and outriders along the frontlines between our territory and Titania’s. An army that size would have been noticed!”

“Are you sure it isn’t an illusion?” Thorgoth asked.

“Well illusion or not, we need to attack and break out as soon as possible!” Helias stammered.

“Can we even break through that with an enemy army to our back?” Berengaria squawked.

There was a snap that made the pavilion’s occupants jump. Thorgoth blinked as he shook his hand from the splinters of the crushed armrest. Blowing free the wood, he stood and straightened his shirt.

“Fuck. They got us.” The Demon King put his hands behind his back and paced back and forth. “They got us real good.”

Helias swallowed. “We do have a chance of breaking out—”

“Not without losing the majority of our army. We’re outnumbered now and exposed to a rearward attack. We’re going to have to break out and fight a retreat at the same time. Titania just has to give ground slowly whilst the humans grind us down,” said Thorgoth.

Berengaria shook her head. Her breathing was short and panicked. “We can call in reinforcements from… from…”

“We don’t have enough trained soldiers. Your Majesty, perhaps we ought to arrange some kind of teleportation relay to get you and our most important Alavari out,” said Helias.

“No. That’s the point of this whole trap, General. They aren’t just targeting me, they targeted our last army. If I leave, we still lose this war.” Thorgoth bit his lip, tail coiling tightly into a loop. “I will make my decision in the morning. In the meantime, set up a defensive cordon facing Titania’s forces and prepare defences facing Kairon-Aoun.”

“Yes sir.” The tauroll bowed before racing out of the tent.

Thorgoth stood watching the entrance for a moment before turning to Berengaria.

“Quite the predicament that these scum have put us in,” he said.

The harpy queen blinked, wiping her eyes before gently touching her husband with a win. “You’re taking this rather well, Thorgoth.”

The king’s smile turned thin as his jaw tightened. He managed a shrug as his voice growled in his throat. “I am rather angry and frustrated, but honestly, this is almost nostalgic.”

“Nostalgic?” Berengaria stammered.

“Years ago. How many times during the strife when it was just you, me and Ulania against the world? Outnumbered and on the brink of defeat and yet we emerged victorious?” Thorgoth asked.

Berengaria swallowed. “We had Ulania then and a few more friends. This is different,”

Drawing his wife into his embrace Thorgoth kissed her forehead gently. “My dear, even if they defeat our army, which will not be an easy feat, they will have to fight us. They have us trapped, facing a shit parade, but we are still the Demon King and his Queen.”

Berengaria took a deep breath, shook her head and forced a smile on her face. “You have that right, my love. Let’s make them bleed.”