Chapter 10 - Tarnished Name

  Elizia nibbled on her rations, savoring each bite, for her lack of supplies was something she had foolishly not given enough thought to.

  The northern horizon stood out like an ominous wall of shadows, clashing against the blue sky of a sunlit afternoon and carrying within its winds the death throes of winter. The clouds hanging over the Black Marshes were ever present. They'd persisted for several days, unmoving, never raining. They just existed.

  Elizia came down from the hilltop she was on and rejoined her camp. They'd passed several villages along the way, none being so kind as to part with any food supplies until offered twice the average price. “Up!” she commanded, walking between men and horse alike. Her lances had only paused for a brief respite. They'd chased their quarry this far north, riding no harder than a canter. Elizia had let the Field Burners stay ahead of her for the better part of several cycles. They were children no more than fifteen riding shaggy mares that were ill trained to travel fast. Thus far, they'd not tried attacking any farmstead or village.

  The horses began moving again. At this rate they'd reach the Blackridge River before Elaina's fourth cycle came to an end. And from there, we go north to Red Vine…

  Lieutenant Faren rode at her side with his hood drawn to stave the cold. He wore a deadpan face, staring forward and nowhere else.

  Elizia rolled her eyes. “You have a question to ask me,” she said.

  “Well, several actually,” the soldier said. Faren's unshaved chin had begun showing wisps of grey that gave him a harder, more grizzled look than normal. “Should I list them altogether, or ask them one by one?”

  “Spare me the tongue, Lieutenant. You want to know why it is we've chased the boys for over half a month and into another high lord's territory while bringing little of our own supplies for the trip.”

  “That's most of it, yes.”

  Elizia sighed. Somewhere high up, an eagle cried out, perhaps in dismay at the rumblings of a hundred hooves that had interrupted its hunt for rodents hiding out in the plains.

  “I cannot provide advice, or even a differing opinion if I do not know the full context of the situation, my lady. I know you've demanded my obedience but—”

  “—But it makes a poor leader who does not seek the counsel of another in matters of the field,” Elizia recited from one of her great, great, grandfather's journals. She left out the second part of that sentence. 'Especially if the leader himself sees conflict in the decisions he has taken'. Flames. Am I really going to commit murder and annex an entire region for myself?

  It wasn't as simple as sharing her convictions with her second. Faren would not provide any counsel other than forbiddance. What Elizia was about to do was not the Serene way. It would bring dishonor to her parents, and would forever tarnish the Serene name.

  But then, she was already a disgrace to the name. She hadn't just dabbled in dark deeds, but had failed her friends as well. I cannot sit idle any longer. I must not.

  Faren glanced her way, still expecting an explanation.

  Elizia relented. “The last time we came up on a group of Field Burners, they killed themselves, Faren. I want to take it slow.”

  “With all due respect, my lady, we have the fastest horses in the nation. They have an estimated group of fifty boys. We can surround them from a distance and capture them in the night. Yet you continue to drive them further north, straight into High Lord Caranel's territory. And it's bloody cold up here. And our supplies are very limited.”

  “I swear you complain more than a spoiled girl on her birthday, Lieutenant. Honestly, and you call yourself a soldier of House Serene?”

  “I am merely stating facts, my lady.”

  “In redundancy,” Elizia said. “We all know the facts, you're the only one that's voiced them thus far.” Flames but she knew. Her own ears stung from the cold, and an ache hurt the sides of her head because of it.

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  “I daresay you're planning a visit to Lord Caranel,” Faren suddenly said.

  Elizia's breath caught. She turned her head and coughed out, wondering if her murderous intentions had been discovered. Murder. Yes, El, that's exactly what this is. This isn't a battlefield. You aren't fighting anyone. You'll soon be a cold blooded murderer.

  “I am right then?” Faren asked.

  Elizia glanced back at her riders to gauge their reactions. The frontline was close enough to hear the conversation. Their hooded faces were plain and determined. They were obedient in all that she led them to. They'll be complicit in my actions. “And what if I am?” Elizia asked.

  “I would hear your plan. Is it to drive the Field Burners straight to his doorstep, capture them there forth, and declare Lord Caranel to be in your debt? Certainly not something he'd readily deny with a thousand lances on his doorstep. Or perhaps you go to offer the man a marriage alliance with yourself as the bargaining chip —in which case I would advise against this if the rumors regarding his debauchery and allegiance to the Trillian Order and their Goddess have any merit to them.”

  Elizia scowled at her man for but a second. She suddenly gave serious consideration to the second option. Lord Galadin was adept at politics, and his ambitions were plainly obvious. Taking his relative's hand would be playing into a trap. As for Lord Caranel, a man isolated in the north, with no knowledge of politics, she could force the man into a union and then place him under house arrest. All that would require is a hastily put together ceremony under the watch of my own soldiers, and the lands would be mine…

  The only sacrifice being her own wistful dreams of love and marriage. A sacrifice that felt heavier than she thought possible.

  “I would not see you chained to such a man, my lady,” Faren said.

  “He'd be more chained to me than I to him, if I were considering that, Faren, which I am not.”

  “Good. I have serious doubts about Lord Caranel's incompetence as it stands. If you're planning anything that involves force, I would advise against.”

  Elizia snorted. “He's a bumbling fool with a beer belly, Faren. A few travelers and merchants paid to spread good word of him does not change that fact. The vast majority have reported him as a drinker who whores at every opportunity. He's safely tucked away in the Order's pockets. A man little different from the cloth he was cut from.”

  Faren gave her a sidelong glance as they crested a large hill and saw the thin line of smoke within their quarry's encampment several miles in the distance. Elizia raised her hand to stop and slowed Valor to a trot. He paused no sooner and began nibbling on the dead, frost glazed grass beneath him.

  “You are aware that these lands were rife with bandits following the civil unrest of two years past?” Faren asked.

  “What of it?” Elizia said.

  “Those reports have since stopped coming in. And the numerous merchants that travel to north Xenaria only give credence to the fact that they've disappeared or have been dealt with.”

  Elizia frowned. “So the Trillians dealt with some bandits for some inconvenience. What's your point?”

  Faren shook his head with a sigh. It was irritating, more so with the grey in his beard. She almost felt a child being reprimanded by her elder. “Or perhaps Lord Caranel had them dealt with himself.”

  Elizia couldn't believe it. Or rather, she did not want to. She'd painted a narrative for this man she wanted to kill. She'd made of him a most monstrous image so she would feel less sick for her own actions, her own thoughts. She wasn't rationally considering every option and was making a gross assumption. A fatal flaw to a leader. “Make camp around the hill,” Elizia ordered. Her own tent would be placed at the top of it. She dismounted, stretching her hip out of its stiffness with a groan. She turned back to Faren. “Carry on.”

  “You have not noticed the sentries in every village we've passed through?” Faren asked.

  “A couple scattered watchmen in countryside settlements are hardly the mark of competence, Faren. There's always a few spear wielding young men willing to take the task.”

  “No, that isn't the mark of competence. But exactly thirty men per settlement that likely boasts no more than a population of two hundred at most?”

  Elizia frowned. She hadn't given the order to take measure of sentry numbers. It was not supposed to be relevant. “Exactly thirty? You're… certain?”

  Faren nodded.

  Elizia flushed, feeling inept all of a sudden. She was the captain and she'd failed to order basic reconnaissance done. Thus far, we've passed seven villages and at an exceedingly slow pace. Exactly two hundred and ten spear wielding men have watched us pass through. In the event a messenger has already been sent to Lord Caranel… There was a small possibility she were being surrounded at that very moment over the course of several dozens of square miles. But such a maneuver would only be done by the most adept of military commanders. Not by some incompetent high lord…

  Making assumptions again. He might have someone competent with him, or is himself that capable.

  “These sentries,” Elizia said, “did you also take measure of their mannerisms and how they carry themselves?”

  “Straight backed, and serious. They've been trained, that's for certain. Of the length of their training, I cannot say. But most are young men,” Faren said. “A possibility that they're Trillian hires. They might know the north to be Xenaria's breadbasket and want to ensure its safety.”

  A possibility indeed. One she couldn't ignore. So be it. “We carry on regardless. We'll do as originally planned —namely, rounding up the Field Burners before Red Vine and perhaps seeing to it that Lord Caranel is placed in our debt,” Elizia said, stealing Faren's ideas for her own. If this Aarondel Caranel proved to be the fool most rumors painted him as, she would carry out her original intent. It'll be liberation, not murder, she convinced herself. But what if the man didn't turn out as she believed?

  Elizia chewed on her lip. If not, what then?