The victorious army settled in for the night in Elstercross. The buildings were assigned to the knights, who could finally enjoy a bit of comfort. Varre’s entourage naturally occupied the larger of the two inns. Fortunately, Clement’s camp was still standing, so the infantry could reuse many of the rebel tents.

  Technically, Varre’s army was much larger, but many of the troops had left as a distraction, to attempt the ford crossing. Three thousand infantry, along with just one hundred of the knights remained at Elstercross.

  Clement’s army on the other hand consisted of two and a half thousand infantry, along with three hundred knights. Now that the loyalists have captured plenty of captives, they could be easily interrogated for a more accurate number. The total numbers were pretty similar, so even if the fording army took their tents with them, the victors wouldn’t have to dig any more latrines, at least.

  Though the loyalist army celebrated their win over Clement, they couldn’t rest easy just yet. The rebels took heavy losses and were at a huge disadvantage now, but they could still attempt some desperate counterattack. Sentries were deployed all around the camp to prevent that. Count Jan also sent out a few riders on patrol, who tried to track the position of the rebels. It would also make chasing them easier later.

  Varre gave a short speech to his gathered soldiers after the battle. He congratulated them on their victory and praised their bravery. He contemplated offering a monetary bonus to all participants of today’s events, but his advisors talked him out of it.

  He didn’t want to turn his army into a band of greedy mercenaries. If he rewarded them too much today, they might refuse to fight future battles without payment first. Furthermore, the distraction force would go without pay. That’d only breed jealousy.

  It didn’t feel right with him. These soldiers marched to their death, without even knowing that they were giving up their lives just to hold Clement down in place and allow for the flanking maneuver. But he had to concede. As a compromise, the families of the fallen soldiers would receive a bonus. Three months of salary wouldn’t bring back the dead, but it was a life changing amount of money for any commoner.

  When the king finally retired to his chambers, meticulously prepared by Benjamin, he was surprised to discover he had a guest. Nilo was waiting just outside the doors. He was crossing his arms and biting his lip, clearly nervous about something.

  Despite Captain Hakon’s protests, the aristocrat was allowed to travel with the royal entourage. Sometimes it seemed like Varre was the only one who trusted his friend, even though few dared to protest a direct order from the king. The two men had went through many misadventures together. Even if this one was on a much bigger scale, Varre knew that Nilo had his back. Besides, he worried that the noble would be easy to kidnap again, if he had stayed in the capital.

  The aristocrat welcomed the monarch with a sad smile, and they entered the quarters together.

  “Congratulations on the victory today,” Nilo began as he sat on one of the chairs.

  “Thank you,” Varre replied and gave his friend a concerned look, “how are you feeling?”

  “Me?” the aristocrat smiled wider, “you’re the man of the hour. There’s no need to worry about me.”

  The king knew him well. The young man was clearly deflecting. “I’m not worried. But I think we can both agree this isn’t a normal situation.”

  Nilo broke out into a small chuckle. “Yeah. That’s one way to put it. My father’s a traitor, attempting to overthrow you. We’re in the middle of a civil war. And all I can do is sit out and watch.”

  Varre wasn’t sure how to answer that. “It’s not that bad. I keep saying it’s a rebellion, not a full blown war. A minor quarrel really. It’ll be over by Tuesday.”

  The aristocrat chuckled again. “It doesn’t change what my father’s done. People died today, Varre. Lots of them.”

  “I know that,” the king closed his eyes, “but we can’t just surrender. We have to stop him.”

  Nilo clenched his teeth. He couldn’t argue with that, but he didn’t like that wording. “What will you do if you catch my father?” he asked bluntly.

  Varre gave a soft, reassuring smile. “I promised I would spare his life, didn’t I?”

  “That was then, and this is now,” the noble protested, “you haven’t fought before.”

  “I wouldn’t be a very good king if I broke my promises this quickly would I?” the monarch joked again.

  “Perhaps. But that was before… this. We were just talking then. This is real. And the worst part is,” Nilo hid his face in his palms, “I’m not even sure what I’d do in your shoes. My father’s a traitor. And a murderer at that. I wasn’t even sure if I was relieved when I found out he fled. Maybe it would have been easier if today he just…” he trailed off.

  “Do you want me to kill him?” Varre asked bluntly.

  “No!” the aristocrat jolted up, “no. We may not be on the best of terms, but he’s still family. My dad…”

  “Then why are you worrying,” the king slapped him on the shoulder, hoping to break him out of the sour mood, “I said I’d spare his life and I meant it. I meant it then, and I mean it now. He’ll be fine.”

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  “He’s dangerous Varre!” Nilo protested, ”I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if you leave him be, whose to say he won’t just start another rebellion in a few more years!”

  “I’ve given it some thought already,” the king explained, “and you’re right. He can’t remain a count. But I don’t want to just throw your father into a dank dungeon and wait for him to die. That wouldn’t be much different from executing him then and there, would it?”

  The aristocrat jerked at the term ‘executing’, but couldn’t argue. “I… as much as I hate to say it, I just don’t know what’s a good way out of this mess!” he stared at Varre with tears in his eyes, “gods damn it all! Why did he have to do this! Leaving me to solve his gods damned messes as always!”

  The king decided to act. He caught his friend in a hug to calm him down. “Don’t worry. I’ll punish him accordingly. I swear I won’t kill him and I won’t let him start another rebellion either. But I’ll need your help.”

  Nilo pushed back. “How?”

  Varre smiled at him. ”How would you like to be a duke?”

  “What?”

  “Think about it! The West used to be ruled over by duke Pyke. One of my uncles. Now, the position is empty. I need someone I can trust to fill it, but if I bring someone random, then the locals won’t trust them. And then there’s you,” the king grabbed the noble by his shoulders, “you’re from the West. You’ve spend your entire life building connections for your father, so everyone knows you already. You’re not just some outsider, sent by a distant tyrant to rule over the conquered. You’re here to fix things. The lawful heir to your father’s lands, returning to make things right. They will accept you.”

  A thousand thoughts kept going through Nilo’s head. He shouldn’t just accept. He was the son of a traitor. He didn’t deserve any rewards because of that, and yet here it was. A massive promotion just waiting for him to take it. And he couldn’t deny that it would help his friend out too. “What about my father then?” he blurted out the first counterargument he could think of, “I still don’t get what we’ll do with him.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that too,” Varre said, “we can’t just leave him in Quendon, of course. You’re right. He will be dangerous. Even if you would technically be the real leader of the province, he can scheme behind your back. Especially since I don’t expect you to remain all the way out here at all times. I want you in the capital too. It’s our home.”

  “Then what do we do?”

  “We’ll make Westbridge your father’s home too,” the king smiled, “you’ve said it yourself. He almost never went to the capital, that’s what you were for. He has limited connections there. I won’t throw him in a dungeon, but I will imprison him. I think house arrest would suffice. He can live in relative comfort, with a servant or two. Perhaps at your own manor, if you so wish, perhaps something smaller. But he’ll never step foot beyond its walls. I won’t torture him, you know I can’t do that to your father, no matter what he’s done, but he’ll never hold real power again. And it’ll be your job to make sure of that.”

  Nilo stood up and hugged his friend again. “Varre. I… thanks. Thank you.”

  The king hugged back, but mentally chastised himself. That house arrest sounds more like a reward than punishment to me. But I guess it has to be done. I can’t do that to Nilo. He’s one of the first friends I made here. And I still struggle with my image anyway. No one will call me a tyrant if I simply throw him in prison. It’ll fit the story of a normal nobles’ quarrel too, instead of a grand civil war.

  Besides, if Clement really is the kind of person everyone says he is, becoming powerless might just be a punishment worse than death. Damn it, it better be! If that’s the kind of luxury I can expect, maybe I should throw myself under house arrest too!

  Either way, regardless of what Varre promised Nilo, that decision wouldn’t be finalized today. The war wasn’t over yet and though Clement had lost the first battle, he was still on the loose. The next one might result in his death. He could be assassinated, perhaps by his own people in a struggle for power, he might take his own life, fearing retribution, or he might do something so despicable that even his own son will renounce him. Finally, what would happen if Clement decided to surrender? Would Varre accept it, in exchange for amnesty? I’ll deal with it when it happens, he decided.

  The king couldn’t stay with his friend for long. The army was packing up early tomorrow, resuming their march in hopes of catching up to the rebels before they could become a threat again. The men ate a small celebratory dinner and retired to bed early.

  The next day, Varre had another decision to make before the army left the village.

  Most of the rebels had escaped during or after the battle. Both Clement’s soldiers and camp followers alike. But not all. Some troops decided to surrender, knowing they stood no chance of escaping with their lives, Some of the noncombatants also took shelter inside of buildings, fearing the rampaging knights riding down the village street. Their bet paid off, as the loyalists simply captured them.

  Now, Varre had a couple hundred peasants that he needed to decide what to do with. He couldn’t simply send them home. The lands around Tresannes may have been depopulated, but there was still a high likelihood that the rebels would draft these serfs back into the army, as soon as they made it back. He also couldn’t have them join his army either. Even if the peasants held no particular love for Clement, that was too great a risk. And no soldier would want to serve side by side with the people who killed their friends.

  One officer suggested killing them, but the king glared at him so hard, that the noble excused himself out of the meeting. These were still subjects at the end of the day. And, as Varre had already decided, they were going to work for Nilo soon. There was no need to depopulate lands that could become productive right after the war had ended. But that didn’t leave a lot of options. Imprisonment was always there, but then these people would need to be kept under guard and fed.

  Surprisingly, it was Benjamin who offered a new solution. “Your majesty. As you know, we are currently using Banbury as our main base of operations. All the supplies that flow out of the Crownlands stop there, before being distributed to the army. That requires manpower. People who unload carts and move goods to granaries. What if these captives were sent to help work in the warehouses. The city guard would keep watch over them, and I’m sure we could arrange some salary that’d pacify them. There’s enough work to go around and it’d free some of our people too.”

  None of the commanders could find immediate fault with the argument, so it was decided. The camp followers could have theoretically returned home, but they would leave for Banbury too. On the one hand, it’s not like their presence would have a significant effect on Clement’s fighting abilities. They could be easily replaced by just about anyone. Varre mostly didn’t want civilians travelling around by themselves across war torn lands. It was best to wait until the rebellion ended. Then they could return home, together with the other captives as a group. It’d be safer that way.

  With that discussion out of the way, the army packed up and marched out after Clement. Scouts were keeping track of his position, so Varre knew to head Northeast.

  The loyalists held another advantage. Now that the road to Banbury was clear again, the deliveries of supplies could resume. The three hundred soldiers that were left in the city two weeks ago could now return to the army to replace the freshly injured. While the rebel army was decaying, Varre’s was getting stronger.

  With such a good outlook on everyone’s mind, the army set out again. To finish the rebel army for good.

  The war hasn't been destructive enough to create such a need for hatred and retribution. At least not yet.