Chapter 3

"So you don't want me coming."

Shanna closed her eyes, trying not to groan at Piotr's ... what? Childishness, at least. She put a hand to her forehead. A headache was coming. She just knew it.

"I didn't say that."

"Yes, you did."

God. He was acting like the teen he was. She opened her eyes. The young man stood beside his horse, the animal now saddled, although Piotr looked like he might be ready to pull it off again. The palace stable around them was empty. Shanna took a deep breath.

"I said, I didn't plan on our vacation being a whole official mission with others. I wanted it to be just the two of us, alone. I didn't ask James to send you with us."

"So you don't want me-"

"Jesus Christ!" She stepped towards him, the teen's eyes widening in shock. She didn't know which always got to him more, when she swore, or when she called the King by his given name. Like she was going to bow before someone who had roomed a few doors down from her just months ago. Shanna put a hand on his shoulder. "Look. I love you. I love being with you. I want you to come with us. OK?"

She saw him take his own deep breath, trying to relax. He looked...

Piotr looked his age.

He was a kid. Shanna was in love with a kid. A boy a few years her junior who had never been in a real relationship before. Who had probably heard too many unrealistic tales of true love and the like. Who just didn't understand. Well, he'd have to learn. She'd help him, naturally. Not get pissed, give him time to adjust to all this. Shanna already had a sinking feeling, though. This, like all her other loves, was not going to end well.

"I'm sorry Shanna. I'm just..."

"I know."

"You spend all your time with them."

Fuck. Here she was trying to get this over with, the two of them back to a happy place, and he won't let it go. Well, she'd give it one more try.

"And this will be us spending time together." She smiled. "Tell you what. When we get to the city, I'll tell the others to go get some rooms, look around, and the two of us will find a nice inn with a big bed. We'll spend an entire day or two naked." Her smile became wickeder at his widening eyes, her hand sliding down his chest. "I'll even get on all fours for you..."

"Um ... can we leave now?"

James would give half his Kingdom for a computer.

Not the good half. No. Without that, there'd be no need for the computer. Unless he wanted to play some games. God, video games. He missed video games. They were so much more fun that ... this.

The king sat back in his desk chair, shoulders slumped as he looked down at the scattered papers. So much information. Even knowing as little as they did, it still overwhelmed. Grabbing one, he looked over at Ola, seated at a small desk on the left side of his office. The effeminate man looked as tired as James felt.

"Ola."

"Yes, Your Grace?" He turned to give James his full attention.

"If the trees in that grove Pawlak is lusting over are that good, yes, he can harvest them for housing. But, ONLY for housing, and only that one patch. I'm not having this island cleared of trees. We bring wood from the mainland, or build the rest of the housing there."

"Yes, Your Grace." Ola turned back to his desk, making a note. A page ran in, a chalkboard slate in his hand. He stopped before the King's desk.

"Flag message, Your Grace."

"Thank you."

The boy handed the slate over, bowing. Ola motioned him over.

"Here, Boy. Take this." He handed over a similar square slate with a white chalk message written in a clear, steady handwriting. "Make sure you wait to get confirmation from the shore."

"Yes, Sir." He ran off. James rubbed his eyes, yawning, before focusing on the just delivered message.

"The Captain reports that he has a good five miles of stragglers behind the main body. Maybe more. They're so disorganized, I wouldn't be surprised if they lost a third of those that tried to come." He shook his head. "Damn it. If I had known, we could have done something. Left small garrisons, at least on this side of the Orlan river."

"We thought they were dead," Ola said, rising. "All of us. Don't blame the Captain for that, Your Grace."

"My Grace knows better than to pass blame on an empty stomach. Could you send for something?"

"I need some records from my office. I'll send word to the kitchen as I pass." He bowed, turned, and followed the page out the door.

James leaned back, shaking his head in an attempt to clear it. It was the seriousness of it all that was starting to get to him. The weight of the responsibility. If he did the wrong thing, made the wrong choice, people could ... die. Actually die. Children. He could get children killed.

He stood, walking to a map tacked to the wall. It showed the island, Nowy Poland, with its infant city Nowy Warsaw. North of them, visible with the naked eye from the shore, the unnamed continent, the town of Fredrick (named after his father) spread out around a small harbor. Twenty miles west of the town, the Orlan river ran into the sea, the Kikker city of Saribit resting on the western bank. A hundred miles further west, the Warta river also ended its southward journey at the sea. His eye traveled up it, past towns, small cities, until it reached the city that was no more. The centuries old home of the only humans in this world, where the Wisla joined the Warta river.

Nowy Kiev.

How many humans crossed the Warta weeks ago? How many might still be crossing? Traveling west, for almost a fortnight, only to see the mighty Orlan river in their path. How many women and children, with only what food they could carry, were staggering down wagon trails now fading, following the Polish retreat?

Damn it all.

"Page!"

A girl ran in. The palace staff must really be stretched, if the younger sisters of some of the boys were being enlisted. He nodded to her as he walked to his desk, grabbing two clean slates and quickly writing.

"I need you to take this green one to the signal flag master. You know where he is?"

"Yes, Your Grace!"

"Good. It's urgent." He paused, laughing. "Everything is urgent today." The girl, no more than eight, laughed nervously. Finishing, he handed them to her. "After you've delivered it, and the Signal Master has indicated he understands it and doesn't need to send you back for clarification, you are to take the blue one to the stable. Find a rider. He is to deliver this to the southern harbor master. Understand?"

"Yes, Your Grace!"

"Good girl! Off you go."

She turned and ran, brown pigtails flapping behind her. It was settled, then. If it was at all possible, they'd send troops back over the Orlan river. Find out where the Poles had managed to cross, secure the crossing. Send scouts back towards Nowy Kiev. Dangerous as hell, with the risk the Elves would think they were making moves to retake the city. But, it could save lives.

James shook his head as he returned to his desk. It was too easy to do these things when others were going to be the ones going into danger.

Shanna reined in her mount as the humans came to the end of the mountain pass. The stone road opened up, widening as it sloped down towards the western harbor. Towards the Kikker village of Visvang.

It was the fact the fishing village of the frog people looked like some New England town that got to her. No exotic architecture. No strange cultural flourishes. Just wood frame houses with tiled roofs, square windows and rectangular doors. Only its occupants were fucking weird. Bipedal frogs.

Still, you got used to them.

Piotr brought his mount beside her. He looked strange without the feathered wings attached to the back of his armor, without the decoration that marked him as one of the elite Winged Hussars. It had been his choice to leave them behind, to go as, well, one of her men. She smiled at him. So far as she was concerned, he was her only Man.

The others were her soldiers.

"Given none of us speak Frog," Piotr said, "this could be interesting."

"There's always a few who speak Polish." Shanna let her eyes pan over the small community. Her own Polish was to the point where she wasn't sure she wasn't in fact thinking in the language. Some magic had to be involved, a pale reflection, perhaps, of James' multilingual ability. Maybe she could learn Frog. It didn't seem too difficult. No croaking, at least. Shanna didn't think she'd be able to croak with any great ability.

"Lady," Anelie said, bringing her own mount up. Shanna glanced at the girl. Wherever her brother had found that armor, it fit her well despite its obvious male shape. It was even the proper black. In fact, she thought, it was suspiciously good. Almost as if the two siblings had planned its need ahead of time. The girl, noticing she had Shanna's attention, seemed to sit up straighter in her saddle, the half football shaped helmet adding almost a foot to her height. At least she was no longer the babbling brook from months ago. Everything that had annoyed Shanna about the girl was now, if not gone, muted. That was good. Shanna didn't like being annoyed.