Chapter 4 - Eagle's Fear

  It left a bitter taste in Elizia's mouth to stoop to the level that she had. Not once had hiring assassins crossed her mind. Not when her mother had been poisoned, not when a Wickar had come for her, and not even when she'd learned of the dark deeds her hated enemies had engaged in during the siege of Arcaeus Peak. Always Elizia had sought to solve those issues on her own, always thought —imagined— herself embedding an arrow through that vile man's blind eyes for all the pain he'd caused her and her family.

  Frustration had at last forced her hand. Elizia could not challenge the Wickar assassin unless he came again with another invasion. But Kazir had not come again since the siege two years ere. Two years within which Elizia's patience had worn thin. There's no going back from what I've done…

  Each passing day brought her mother closer to death, and left justice unserved. Nothing in the world seemed right. Xenaria was at a tipping point, her only anchor the strong arm of High House Serene. Yet here Elizia stood, questioning the righteousness of her own decisions.

  She squeezed shut her eyes. The capital was in shambles, Queen Emeria, once Elizia's dearest friend, a mere puppet for the Trillian figureheads littering the court. Their foul prints were painted over every decree announced by the Crown. Supplied strength of arms by the proclaimed paragon of righteousness and morality, the Thousand Sun City, they could not be engaged. As such, they siphoned Xenaria's resources while installing their own officials and officers into the inner circles of influential lords and ladies. The citizens were left to hang dry before the might of the naked and false Sun.

  High House Coraine was a shadow of its past, its shores plagued by corsairs holding the island of Kovar, and its borders pestered by the insatiable gluttony of Jasim, High House Galadin's treacherous lord. Wealthy though the Coraine House was, Lady Coraine had not the means to protect it with so many vultures circling above her nest. And the north…

  The north had given one despot for another. High Lord Agrienne Caranel had disappeared at the height of his people's troubles during Xenaria's minor civil war, and in his place had come his bastard son, a former corsair who'd aided in the sacking of Kovar. Or so the stories went. Contrary to her own opinions, Elizia had heard some degree of positive rumors about Lord Aarondel Caranel from travelling merchants. Rumors though were all they were. She had a hard time believing someone with his past would have anything positive about him.

  Elizia brushed a strand of her earthen hair behind her ear. Cold air of a withering winter breathed down upon her neck, prickling her skin and making a Silver Eagle banner flutter. She had on a leather shoulder piece with bow and quiver strapped tight to her back, and dagger belt tied firm around the waist. Her unit didn't have any training scheduled for the day, but there was no telling when Tarmia —when Kazir, would send Field Burners again to plague the farmlands and villages running north of Arcaeus.

  Lord Serene joined her upon the walls of the fortress gates. A silence hung between father and daughter until Elizia broke it.

  “Six years,” she mumbled. An intentional poor start. Neither of them wanted to be reminded of the fact that only four years remained before the Decade's Curse claimed Sar'tara's life.

  “You're frustrated,” Kalin said, voice monotonous.

  “You're not? We're being suffocated!”

  “What would you have me do, Elizia?”

  “I would rather go down fighting than twiddling our thumbs! Can you… can you not win for us?” she asked. Once upon a time, she believed her father invincible. Believed he could win any and all battles. These days, she saw how thin his spirit had become. He held out, believing that one day, Sar'tara would wake. He dared not risk it all in a reckless endeavor, fighting both Tarmia and the Trillians at once, hoping that he might preserve what little he had left for when she finally opened her eyes.

  Elizia, though wanting to deny it, believed that her mother would never wake again. Even if they did wait out the following four years, what would remain of House Serene then? What would remain of Xenaria? “We would follow you, Lord Commander,” she mumbled. “We would follow you to our graves.”

  “Don't speak of dying so easily, Elizia.”

  “So you'd rather run just as Rask did?” she cried. “You'd rather stay put and never raise a sword again?” Nearby wall guards shifted their feet, spears in their hands faltering. Their morale was already at an all-time low with all the reports and rumors coming in from the rest of Xenaria. What did it matter if they saw their High Lord and the First Princess arguing?

  “Do not speak ill of Jengard. He was a good man. And still is.”

  Flames but Elizia knew that. But to quit service after the fall of his family? To not even desire vengeance for it? How could she forgive that if she couldn't even begin to understand that reasoning? “So good a man that he hasn't sent even one letter to you since retiring from service! Did it not matter, father, when you saw the flickering lights of an enemy army camped outside these walls? Did it not matter when you heard the sounds of soldiers dying? When you saw what you thought was my dead body mounted upon a pike right out there?” she said, pointing out at the fields below.

  The words just kept pouring from her mouth. She wanted her father to react. To grow angry, to be anything but complacent. He'd had a plan long ago. One created with the former queen. The civil war had changed that. Every noble was slowly bending their knee to the Trillian Order, and Elizia knew her father blamed himself for such a massive failure, for failing to safeguard the Crown. The weight of his burdens were at last beginning to crush him. She could see it already in the grey that began streaking his hair and marking his beard.

  “I got you back alive,” he said in a hushed voice, turning to look into her eyes. “That's all that mattered.”

  “It's not what matters to me,” Elizia pleaded. “Emma is still imprisoned in the capital, Azurus caught within whatever Flaming storm is going on there. The people suffer, you know this. And… and Kazir sends children to burn our fields. Children whose eyes shine with fear when my soldiers are sent to kill them. We tried capturing them, father, but they all killed themselves before we could. As if… as if we were somehow the Heartless that needed escaping. As if we're the ones doing wrong.”

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  No word yet had come from the assassins Elizia had sent a loyal officer to hire. A fact she could never break to her father.

  Kalin stayed silent, merely opening and closing his palms on repeat.

  “Two years ago you said we lacked the funds for a war. Have we not enough now?” Elizia asked. Her father side-eyed her at the mention of war and she winced. It was not a glance of disapproval, but rather one of question. A question regarding how easily the word left her lips. He thinks I'm being rash.

  “We've enough to fight,” he said. “But not enough to win on both fronts. Not without at least one other of the High Houses willing to step up. Even then, that would involve us hiring mercenary companies I'd never put my faith in.”

  “What of asking Lady Coraine?”

  “You'd have me ask a grieving widow, Elizia? The high lady has her share of troubles.”

  What of pleading to Lord Galadin, Elizia almost asked. But no. She would not have her father lower his head to that vile man. Because of him, she'd lost many good soldiers. Because of him, many northern villages had suffered a harsh winter. Jasim's greed knew no bounds, and rumor had it he'd been amongst the first to kneel before the Trillian Order's offering of coin.

  Then was the only option to ask the young despot? As if. Even if Lord Caranel cooperated, the north doesn't have many soldiers. It only has most of the nation's grain…

  'War is not only won through fighting.' Those were words written upon the military theory books of greater members of House Serene that once were. A dark plan began to take shape in Elizia's mind. She'd already stepped into that oil colored muck. Already dirtied her boots with deeds of dishonor. If she could hire an assassin, what was committing an assassination herself? If I can remove Lord Caranel, and annex the north for myself… If she managed that, she might yet create favourable conditions by which to starve the rest of Xenaria. House Coraine would suffer some, but so would House Galadin. It would force the Trillians to deal with civil unrest, and Jasim would undoubtedly ally with House Serene then if only to maintain his own power and rule.

  “I am sorry, Elizia,” her father said. “You've taken part in every council of import I've held. You know there's only so much that I can do. I can try sending letters again to Lords Galadin and Caranel—”

  “No!” Elizia said, shouting. Her father frowned. “No. I don't want you lowering your head, father. Not now, not ev… wait. Again? You've sent letters before?”

  Kalin nodded. He turned from the wall and began descending the steps, motioning for her to follow. “Elizia, I am still High Lord Serene,” he began, as they followed along the tight corridors of the fortress and up to his office. “Every soldier within these walls are frustrated. Angry. Perhaps not as much as you and I have a right to be, but they feel for us nonetheless. Your outbursts are things I tolerate within the confines of my office, not outside and before the soldiers. There's a hierarchy to be maintained, and you are shaking that balance. You expect us to fight when you, the heir to the House, lash out in desperation? Do you understand what that does to morale?”

  Elizia bit her lip. They entered Kalin's office room after a long trek in silence and he shut the door behind her. His words cut deep. She let her emotions run too freely —she knew that. Knew even that the secrets she kept from him only fueled her frustrations. But her father's words felt hypocritical. He was putting up an act before her, an act that was never needed. There was no stern fire to his voice the likes of which she once feared and admired. He was a husk of what she remembered of him. He had never been the same since that day she returned alive to the garrison.

  And yet I prefer this act to the paper thin man I see every day. Elizia would rather suffer a thousand lectures from her father than see him stand with slumped shoulders. “Forgive me, father.”

  Kalin sighed. He sat down heavily in his chair and ran a hand through his dark brown hair. “Jasim responded to my letters. He won't be interested in fighting unless he sees a clear path to victory and further status and wealth increases. He's also given a condition I can't accept. Even now he harries Lady Coraine's merchants by dressing his own soldiers as brigands and thieves. They're both out of the picture. As for Lord Caranel, I've gotten no response.”

  “Of course not,” Elizia said. “He was brought in by the Trillians. He's undoubtedly loyal to them.”

  Kalin grunted.

  “What was Jasim's condition?” Elizia asked.

  “You. Your hand in marriage to one of his lesser nephews or relatives. So that he can one day control both his own and House Serene's lands.” Kalin snorted. “He won't offer his second son and heir apparent. That bastard still considers Tara's blood of peasant origins, and yours is thus also tainted. I will not give my precious daughter to that hell.”

  Despite everything, Elizia found it in herself to smile at those words. She wished she were still small enough to curl up in her father's lap, to not only feel the warmth of his words, but his arms as well. That small joy went away as a horrid truth became apparent to her. “It's me,” she mumbled, chest growing heavy. “Flames. How did it elude me all this time? It was me all along.”

  Kalin frowned. “What's you?”

  “It isn't mother. It's me. I'm your weakness. You… you won't do anything because of me. Because you don't want to risk me in a grand war. Because you're afraid you'll leave me with nothing to inherit. Or worse, leave me altogether without ever seeing me happy. You're not acting because you're protecting me.”

  Kalin stayed silent. He had his hands bound together and pressed before his face, eyes steeped in their shadow.

  “Father, I'm not happy already. You know I won't be. Not unless we fix what is wrong.”

  At that moment, the sound of hurried footsteps sounded from the hall outside. Not a few seconds later were there loud knocks upon the door. Elizia opened it to find a breathless messenger.

  “Field Burners,” the man breathed. “Farther north than usual, spotted a few days ago. Sir, they're on ponies this time.”

  “Flames,” Elizia said. Border patrol had strict orders not to kill them since finding out they were children. They were instead to be tailed and prevented from causing villages and farms any harm. “Father, by your leave,” Elizia pleaded. At least there weren't many fields to ruin this early in planting season.

  “There are other captains I can send, Elizia,” Kalin said.

  She shook her head. “It has to be us. They're sending untrained orphans and urchins to war. I failed once but I know how these children act. Let me attempt rescuing them again.”

  “Take prop—”

  “—proper care, I know,” Elizia cut off. “I won't repeat mother's mistakes.”

  Lord Serene gave her a hard look. He then waved his hand to dismiss her.

  Elizia bowed low. An hour following, she was riding out the garrison gates alongside Captain Faren and with a fourth of her company of forty-five hundred light riders. Her numbers hadn't been restored to a full five thousand since the civil war, and reassignments to other units needing men had brought the total number down.

  But a thousand lances was more than enough to take control of northern Xenaria if she struck hard and fast. Or perhaps not. Better my men don't sully themselves killing kin. Better I put a blade in that despot's back myself when it's dark.

  “There's something fierce in your eyes, your highness,” Faren commented, as the horses galloped down the incline of the Peak. “Trust that we'll give it our all. We will save those children this time.”

  Blades of grass alongside the road perked up like dagger blades as the company rode past.

  “Save them and more,” Elizia said, feeling hot from her own emotions. Her heart near matched the steady and rapid hooves of Valor. Had it not been for the cool air rippling through her hair, she might have been sweating already. “Lieutenant, promise me that no matter what happens from this moment on, you will not fail to follow my orders.”

  “My lady?” he asked with a softened voice that almost couldn't be heard amid the thunder of the riders behind.

  “Promise me,” Elizia repeated.

  “Of course. Always. But I don't understand why that—”

  “That is all I need.” She didn't care if her father would hate her for it. Didn't care if the deed would be deemed dishonourable and unjust even. Elizia Serene was determined to create favorable conditions so that Xenaria's Shining General —her hero— would have no choice but to take action, and prove again why it was the people had given him that name.