Chapter 7

The armies of the Sinton Valley spread up the coast and deep into the interior of the continent after the destruction of the seaside tower. Little fishing villages were swept away as they moved inland. Aldrich rode at the head of the column each time they moved into a new territory, enjoying his time with the rank-and-file soldiers.

Their supply of gunpowder was greatly diminished, though this was less of a problem than the other commanders thought it would be. Many of the strongholds they approached opened their gates at the first sight of Covington’s shaved head and tattoos. Word had spread quickly of what had happened on the first leg of their conquest.

Several of the regular commanders had made noises about returning to the Valley and reporting their success to the twins. Aldrich himself had considered it, but he was having too much fun already. The louder malcontents had met with unfortunate accidents during the march, or simply passed away quietly in their tents at night. Aldrich was careful to promote adventurous young men to replace them. The last of the complainers had been hit in the head by a falling rock before he’d even been able to arrange a way to dispose of him. That night he overheard enough of the conversations of his new officers to know he’d made the right choices. No more negativity about their adventure would be heard going forward, he was sure.

Almost all of them came from the lower ranks of society, men who had joined the army because they had no other option, or they just enjoyed going out to rape and pillage the neighbors. The remaining officers were the younger, unproven, ones that had set out with the army originally, second and third sons of minor nobles who had joined up for the same reasons as their poorer colleagues.

In each new village and hamlet, they came to, Aldrich kept his eyes open for men he could use. No matter how small a place was, there were always a few men living on the wrong side of the law. Their ranks had swelled with mercenaries and brigands that would be loyal to him and no one else. Some for the money he offered, others were simply happy to follow a man that could bring down the strongest castles around any time he wanted to. More than one unfortunate villager had been forced to play catch with a grenade just to remind everyone who was in charge.

After a few months of campaigning, they were over a hundred miles inland, to the north of the mountains that walled in the Sinton Valley. He was told that it was well into winter now, but this far south Aldrich couldn’t see any difference in the weather, other than the fact that it was no longer so oppressively hot. His army had taken up residence in a town wedged between a fast flowing river and a forest so thickly grown two men could barely fit through the trees side by side. Covington and his handpicked men rested in the local magistrate’s home while the scouts spread out into the countryside gathering supplies.

The magistrate’s daughter was dancing on a table in the dining hall, while the men sang songs leaving no doubts as to what would happen once she climbed down from her position. The girl’s father, having objected to her treatment, was huddled in a corner, trying to stop the bleeding of the stump that used to be his tongue. The offending muscle had disappeared into the fireplace as soon as it was removed and no one else had said a word after.

Aldrich called for another mug of ale from his seat at the end of the table. One of the nameless servants rushed to refill his cup just as the last scrap of the dancing girl’s dress fell away. A cheer erupted from the soldiers that echoed off the rafters of the high ceiling. Ale splashed onto the broad oak table from cups being slammed down in celebration. The girl, no one had bothered to ask her name and the father hadn’t provided it while he could still speak, continued to dance amidst the ruckus, tears streaming down her face. Her small undergarments were trimmed with white rabbit fur, almost indistinguishable from the paleness of her skin. Despite her paler, she had a fit athletic build to her, Covington noticed. Slim and lean from growing up swimming in those rapids they call a river, he guessed.

Negotiations were intensifying up and down the table, plundered loot being offered up to determine who would be the first to take their reluctant entertainment up to one of the manor’s bedrooms. Things were escalating to the point that Aldrich was going to start offering up the serving girls as a consolation, when the doors to the hall flew open and three men entered.

Rain had moved into the area while they were celebrating. All three men were soaked through to their skins. Every eye in the room turned in their direction. The magistrate’s daughter took the opportunity to grab the remnants of her dress and scramble down off the table. She went to huddle in the corner with her father. Aldrich noticed but didn’t say anything. He was surprised that she would take such a risk, to leave her place without his permission. There would be time to discipline her later, right now, the strangers required his full attention.

All three of the new arrivals were well dressed in tooled leather travelling clothes. Mud from the road caked their boots and went halfway up their pants. Despite their rough, travelworn appearance, the trio had an air of determination and official self-importance. Once they had done their best to shake off the water and mud, they marched in lockstep up to the head of the table where Aldrich sat.

He sized up the men as they approached him. The two in back looked the same as many of the soldiers in his own ranks, a little over five and a half feet tall and solidly built. Both had shaggy brown hair and eyes, unkempt and spattered with mud from the road. Each man wore a well-used short sword at their waist. He thought they might be brothers; they were so similar. One was missing almost all the teeth on the left side of his face, which made it easier to tell them apart. The leader was decidedly better bred than his companions, approaching six feet tall, with feathered blonde hair and green eyes.

Looks like a tougher version of that bloke from Game of Thrones, the one that was shagging his sister. Aldrich thought.

“Lord Covington?” The handsome man asked when he reached the end of the table.

“Yes...” Aldrich replied cautiously.

The leader turned to the shorter man to his left, the one that still had all his teeth, who reached into the saddlebag slung over his shoulder. Several of Aldrich’s men rose from their positions around the table and rested their hands on their weapons. This wasn’t lost on the tall blonde man. Aldrich waved his men down but was quietly please that they had responded the way they did. The leader’s companion hadn’t noticed anything amiss and calmly pulled a letter from his bag and handed it to blondie.

He bowed low and presented the folded paper to Aldrich. “My lords Greddor and Nessor order you to return to Sinton Valley immediately.”

Aldrich frowned and opened the letter. It was indeed an order to return to the castle. Nothing was mentioned about his march inland and all the territory he had brought under their control. Nothing was said about giving any of that territory back either. Reading between the lines, he was sure that the two giant idiots were envious that he had succeeded so quickly where they had failed for so many years. He’d learned quite a bit on their daily marches. The twin Lords tried every few years to expand their country beyond the mountains, and every few years they were pushed back to their home valley. Their simply weren’t enough fighting age men in the area they controlled to overrun the larger settlements, and after each failed campaign they had to wait a few years for another group of boys to reach an age where they were useful on the battlefield. Neither brother was a great tactician or strategist, they just gathered the men and marched out to hit the neighbors as hard as they could until they gave up.

In a few months, he’d managed to almost double the size of their country. It would be harder to keep what they had taken, even with the threat of blowing up buildings, but that wasn’t his concern. He’d listened to the more seasoned officers, the few that were left, and placed one of his own men in every town they took. There was now a man from Sinton Valley, and more importantly a man loyal to him, either directly in charge, or overseeing the few Lords they left alive all along their path back to the sea.

He tossed the letter on the table and examined the three messengers again. The two shorter men were nothing, hired muscle or extra pairs of hands for any menial job they were assigned. Their boss, however, was another story. He alone had noticed the danger they were facing just by being there, and had not been bothered by it. Aldrich also could not sense any outward hostility from the man, despite his assigned task. Hopefully that meant he wasn’t entirely under the twins’ thumb, he would need him to be forthcoming with information on the way back. If the Twins’ jealousy was so great that they felt the need to get rid of him he wanted to know before he set foot in that castle again.

“It seems it’s time to go home now gents.” He called out to his men.

The was met with a predictable round of booing and mug smashing.

“I know, I know, the fun was just starting. But we at least have tonight. We’ll get organized to march in the morning. In the meantime ... Get on up there and finish your little show young lady.” He looked at the corner where the girl and her father were huddling together. His glared impressed upon her how wrong her decision to leave without permission was.

She began crying again, but the look was enough to get her to drop the shreds of her dress and start moving towards the table. One of his lieutenants offered her a hand to help her up onto the broad surface and she recoiled in fear and disgust. The man sitting next to him hooted loudly at his rejection. As she was stepping up from the bench both men had the same idea, slapping her hard on the ass before her footing was solid. Her face hit the hard oak boards as she pitched forward onto the tabletop. There was no time to recover as the rest of the gathered soldiers began singing their lewd song again and shouting for her to dance. A bruise was already forming on her cheek as she straightened up and started moving again for their amusement.

Aldrich observed the newcomers as the girl moved faster and faster. Both of the brown-haired messengers had their eyes glued to the magistrate’s daughter and were accepting their own mugs of ale. Blondie on the other hand was watching his own men and then Aldrich’s before turning back to him.

No muppet here I see.

“Have a seat...” Aldrich realized he hadn’t been given the man’s name.

“Fenix, my lord.” The man sat comfortably in the chair a servant brought over, but declined his own mug.

“Well, Fenix, be a good man and let me in on what’s been happening away back in the Valley.”

Their quiet conversation could not be heard over the loud cheering for the girl dancing in front of them.

“The ... quick ... brown ... fox ... jumped ... over ... the ... lazy ... dog.”

David walked into the kitchen for lunch to find Jaym and Emalyn already at the table. After their quiet dinner together, the boy had taken it upon himself to teach the new arrival how to read and write. When David asked him why, his valet told him he needed the practice and “it was a shame such a nice lady didn’t know how to read.”

He had to admit, it would be nice to have a conversation without an intermediary. And the look of concentration she got on her face as she read made her even more attractive in his opinion, even with the ink stains on her fingers and forehead.

It had been almost a month since they met Emalyn at the harbor. She spent the first few days inside Ilex House, recovering from a long, cramped sea voyage. With Jaym acting as interpreter, she asked the others questions about the city and Wellon in general. Everyone warmed up to her slowly. Not only was it their master’s wish that she be accepted, the woman herself was so genuinely earnest and nice that they couldn’t help liking her too. Emalyn left each morning after that to explore the city and ask around for work. By midday she would return for her lessons with Jaym. The spirited redhead put an upbeat face on things, but David could tell that her lack of progress was wearing on her.

While breakfast and lunch were served family style in the kitchen, dinner was always just the two of them in the dining room at Rosha’s insistence. The housekeeper claimed that it was so he could practice proper manners, but David suspected she was doing her best to play matchmaker for him.

All of the servants had come around to accept the young woman into Ilex House, though Liri still kept her distance and would stare at her hair awkwardly when she thought no one was looking.

David picked at the meat and cheese laid out for lunch. “How did the morning go?”

Jaym was ready to translate, but Emalyn stopped him. She concentrated on her words before answering for herself, “Tried new part of town ... inns ... taverns, no luck.”

She fluffed her hair and frowned angrily. Rosha had given her a list of places that she thought would be ok to work in, so far all of them had refused to hire her. “Most ... say no. One woman ... slam door in face. Want to throw bench ... through window ... too heavy.”

Everyone chuckled at that, but David was glad she hadn’t been able to lift the bench. He could only imagine the angry mob that would have followed her home after that, ranting about ginger demons running amok on their streets. Rosha rested a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry dear, I thought at least one of them would have the stones to give you a chance.” She said.

The younger woman turned in her seat and smiled up at the former innkeeper. “Is ok, will try down at ... harbor. After lessons.”

Just then Boland came in through the back hall, forehead shiny with sweat despite the chilly air. “The horses are ready to go master David.”

He and Corval exchanged a resigned look and got up from the table, they were expected at a meeting in the palace that afternoon. David wished Emalyn luck with her reading lesson and job hunt. Her smile of thanks made him forget that he was supposed to be leaving. Corval pushed him towards the back door and they were soon on their way. The cold early winter air encouraged them to race through the streets as fast as they could. David was still no match for Corval in the saddle, but he wasn’t at risk of falling off every few feet either.

Their pace slowed as they approached the palace grounds. Even a former guard lieutenant and an advisor to the Queen couldn’t charge around without reason. It also wouldn’t help his standing as an alien genius to be seen doubled over sucking wind when he arrived.

“You’re gonna have to tell her how you feel sooner or later.” Corval said as their horses trotted along next to each other.

“I know.” David answered. “But I’d rather she was set up with a job and her own place first. How’s she supposed to give me an honest answer if she thinks her food and the roof over her head at night is dependent on what she says?”

Corval laughed off his concern. “You really think she’d have any problems telling you what she thinks? Either through Jaym or on her own, she’ll get what she wants known.”

David pulled his horse up to a stop, the soldier had a point. In the time she’d been with them, Emalyn had been nothing but honest and direct with everyone she met. Still, he felt how he felt, and there wasn’t much he could do about it.

While he sat in the middle of the street thinking, Corval turned around to come back when he realized he was riding along by himself. He pulled up alongside David and got him moving again.

“Look boss, I get the problem, I just don’t see that it’s worth the risk you’re taking. What happens when someone else makes the leap first? Or even worse, what if she can’t find work? Sooner or later she’ll have had enough of everyone’s dirty looks at her hair and she’ll hop on another ship to somewhere else.”

These were both thoughts that David himself had at least three times a day. Hearing them out loud with no easy solution did nothing to help him however. They had reached the carriage tunnel at the palace and would soon be in meetings all afternoon that he would need to focus on.

“Aren’t soldiers supposed to just kill who they’re told and not think that far ahead? You were supposed to make my life easier, not give me more things to worry about.” Corval already had made himself useful to him in a hundred different ways and they both knew it. Anything that went over his head in a meeting the lieutenant would explain to him before they even finished the ride home.

“Hey, I was no ordinary soldier. I was an officer at the palace. With all the affairs and double dealing going on with the aristocrats, even a blind man would notice something. And they don’t stare at each other all moony-eyed like you do boss, haha.”

A groom came up to take their reigns and both men climbed down to enter the palace. Corval continued to tease him as they made their way through the labyrinth of passages. While there weren’t a ton of women in his past, he wasn’t the inexperienced rube the more worldly soldier painted him as either. It wouldn’t kill him to stop hanging off her every word though, on that Corval had a point.

Soon enough David was sitting at a long conference table with the other ministers again. Corval took his place against the wall behind him. There were plenty of chairs available, but the trained soldier preferred to stay up and as active as possible. Rael looked half asleep already, though no one had even spoke yet. Kera sat behind a mountain of paper, ready to take down every word that was said it seemed. The official scribe in the corner looked woefully unprepared in comparison. Queen Mialana sat at her place at the head of the table, chatting quietly with her uncle. The massive Lord General was placed at a corner so he wouldn’t crowd anyone on either side. Caelly stood behind the Queen’s right shoulder, her eyes narrowed slightly when David entered the room, though she didn’t say anything.

They were in one of the large rooms next to the central courtyard on the second floor. Everything was brightly lit from the afternoon sunshine. It was a clear day for early winter, no snow had yet fallen in the city. Enormous framed portraits of former rulers looked down on them from the other walls, each one looking stern and interested, as if they still had a say in the running of the kingdom.

People were beginning to get restless and the conversations around the table were becoming louder when the door to the hallway slammed open and the High Priest came into the room. He was red-faced and breathing heavily, as if he had run all the way through the palace to get there. The big man dropped down heavily into the chair on David’s left, that put him between David and the Queen on the end. He poured a glass of water from the pitcher in front of them and pushed it towards the holy man. Pold downed it in one gulp and held it out for a refill.

“Sorry to hold everyone up. Petitioners were a bit longwinded today.” He said through deep breaths.

David laughed, “You should just have them write letters instead.”

It wasn’t the first time he had suggested it, though Pold always refused. He liked getting out and meeting people face to face. While worshipping the Mother wasn’t overly complicated as far as religions went, people would still go to their priests to have questions answered and interpret the will of the Mother just as people in David’s world would do the same with their priest or rabbi or whoever they had. Even in his position of High Priest, Pold wasn’t exempt from this. A few times a week he would go to different temples in the city and the surrounding area to hear what people had to say. It was good exercise, he claimed, and an excellent way to gauge the mood of the common folk. Though he wouldn’t admit it out loud, the thought of piles of letters in his office was daunting. The former boxer didn’t care for reading.