Chapter 2

Anelie knelt beside the dead Elven soldier.

The uniform was a new one to her. The thin leather tunic had been dyed a dark blue, its accompanying kilt an equally dark red. Both were unadorned apart from the fasteners needed to keep them on the creature's wiry body. It did not match either side of the still continuing civil war. A new unit, serving those who now controlled the former Nowy Kiev? Or a third side?

She frowned. Anelie did not like any of the options. Especially one which lead to the war spreading to this side of the Orlan River. The Watu and Kikker had been good about providing an unintentional buffer between the Poles and their enemy. If that was changing...

"Lewy." The soldier dropped down beside her, bow still in hand. "Mean anything to you?"

He gave the body a long look, hand feeling the armor. The mustached Pole frowned.

"It's cheaply made. A step up from decorative, but I wouldn't want to go to battle in it. No army would issue this to foot soldiers."

"That would fit with rebels, or the like."

"Someone who couldn't afford better," he nodded, "and hasn't won enough to have been able to strip the dead for their armor."

Anelie stood. The forest this far from the fort was never to be considered truly safe, but to those on their guard had not been dangerous of late. She now felt uneasy. Patrols would have to be stepped up. Shanna would, rightly, insist.

She glanced around at her troops. They were dismounted, eyes on the trees while Anelie did her thing. Only the three recruits were focused on her instead of their job. Although, she admitted, paying attention to her WAS their job for now. Damned girls had to learn if they wanted to play with the boys.

"Klocia." The black armored girl stepped forward, remembering to hand her reins to the soldier beside her. She was thin. Too thin. No muscle. You needed strength to fight. Some bulk. That Anelie had not been much different when Shanna took her under her wing almost angered Anelie more. None of the handful of girls who had tried to follow in her footsteps had proven themselves worthy. Proven they could live up to the standards of the army, of the King.

Of Shanna.

"Klocia, how did he die?"

The girl stopped where she was. Anelie had expected her to go kneel down beside the body. Had, in fact, been ready to yell at her for doing so. Lewy stood and moved away, giving the recruit a clear look. Klocia cocked her head, right hand going to the blonde braid draped over her shoulder. Anelie let out a growl.

"Stop that!" The girl jerked her hand away. She straightened, almost at attention. Anelie sighed. "Now, what killed him?"

"It wasn't an animal," Klocia replied. voice steady. Anelie nodded slightly. "Without being able to turn him over, to see if there are more wounds, I would say he was killed by a blade."

Not bad. Anelie looked closer at the girl. She was tall for her age, almost five and a half feet. The face below that blonde hair was soft, almost delicate, but there was steel in her large blue eyes. Her black breastplate was flat, without the slight breast bumps both Shanna and Anelie had in their armor. Such feminine touches did lessen the protective quality of the steel, but Shanna considered it a badge of honor in this world of men. Anelie agreed. If any other females lasted over a month in the Dark Hussar's 1st Cavalry...

"Good." The girl did not smile in reply. That also was good. Death, even for one considered an enemy, was not something to smile over. Anelie looked at the other two recruits. "None of you have seen a dead body before, have you?"

They shook their heads. Cyla, family now in Fredrick, had probably never seen an Elf even from a distance. Anelie nodded.

"I want you three to strip his body. We'll take his armor back to the Fort." She turned to Lewy. "Send a rider back ahead of us. Get another patrol out here while there's light."

Anelie rode out of the trees, into the warm afternoon sun.

For a moment, just a moment, she let her emotional armor fall away. The young woman took a deep breath, body relaxing in the saddle. This was why she still did this. Why she still played the part of a soldier. The beauty of the world. Of nature.

Of Shanna.

Green pasture and farmland spread out before her, log fences or stone walls breaking up the plots. They filled the land between the forest edge and the Orlan river, most of which had been, itself, lightly forested before the coming of the Poles. A road followed the river, connecting the distant walled northern Watu town of Daraja to the southern Kikker town of Fren. On the bank of the river, a dozen buildings formed the Kikker village of Puln. Two docks poked out into the slow moving Orlan, a Polish sailing ship and two Kikker oar boats currently berthed. A road branched off eastward from the center of the town, making its way to the forest south of where Anelie stood. On a slight rise beside the road, a half mile from the town, sat the farthest northern edge of the Polish Kingdom: Fort Buffalo.

It was beautiful, to Anelie's eyes at least. Thick wooden posts ran around the perimeter, fifteen feet high, each corner topped by a square roofed guard tower. A dry moat, filled with sharpened stakes, ringed the fort. Inside the compound, four main buildings housed a hundred Hussar, one hundred soldiers, and thirty servants. Other locals from the town also worked in the fort, helping the community grow from its original six families to over twenty. Rising in the center of the fort, a skeletal wooden tower, topped by a one hundred foot flagpole. From the highest point, the red and while flag of Poland.

Out of habit, Anelie's eyes flicked south. On a good day, you could see the first of the string of communication towers without a spyglass, particularly if your eyes were as sharp as hers. She saw no flags. Which was good. No emergencies. No orders from the King. They could do what they wished.

Not wishing to anger their neighbors, Anelie led her soldiers along the edge of the forest, skirting the fields. Kikker women and children paused in their work, the youngsters waving. Anelie waved back, unable to help herself. Shanna may have ordered the men to be nice to the locals, but that had not been necessary. Who could NOT be friendly with people such as these? Those in the Kikker village were among the nicest people she knew, always the first to help even before you knew you needed it. And the kids! Kikker children were SO adorable! Not as adorable as Bogdi and Adanya's, but...

Her eyes went to the Fort. The doctor was going to look at James today. He had not come yet when they had left on patrol. Little Zuza was also not well, although not as sick as James. Anelie pushed it from her mind. They would be well. They had to be.

Reaching the road they turned towards the fort. Anelie found herself assessing it as if she were an attacker. It was not designed to withstand a siege, naturally. Nothing here was worth a suicidal last stand. A raid by a few hundred soldiers, though, would be nothing to them. The garrison could hold out long enough to send warning to the rest of the Kingdom, before saddling up and carving a swath through the enemy on the way home. The defenses had yet to be tested in actual combat, which was probably a good thing. What fighting there had been occurred in the woods, on the long trail back to Fredrick, far from Polish strongpoints. Another fort was being built half way between Fort Buffalo and the coast, which hopefully would drive the bandits even further afield. Anelie had seen maps which proposed an arc of forts spreading inland from the river. Claiming even more land. The population would have to grow first. Her fellow soldiers were spread thin.

The fort gate faced the town and river, its walls there to protect against others, not the townsfolk. Shanna had told Anelie of a fort she knew of where all the walls and defenses faced the city surrounding it, built by outsiders to subdue and control. Poles would never do that. It was not their way. The Polish simply wanted to be left in peace.

Anelie nodded to the guards as she and her men rode through the open gate. They were awake, which was good. Guard duty could be boring. As she entered the parade ground, Anelie noticed the increased activity. Her messenger had obviously stirred things up. Another patrol was already saddled, Wojciech leading. She rode to him.

"Lady Anelie." Wojciech nodded in greeting. "What are we looking for?"

"Anything that shouldn't be there," she laughed. "Where there's one dead Elf, there may be live ones. Poke a stick into any place that might be harboring sleeping visitors."

"Someone bring a lance," he told his men, grinning.

"A long one," Anelie suggested. His eyebrows raised.

"What other kind would we have?"

She groaned. What was it with males and penis jokes? She turned her mount away, letting them laugh at the attempted humor. They were just being soldiers.

Anelie watched Shanna turn the armor over in her hands.

"I don't like it."

Piotr laughed from his seat a few feet away. Shanna's head came up, brown eyes flashing behind her glasses. One black eyebrow went up.

"Yes?"

"You don't like anything." He bounced his left leg, the three year old boy straddling it letting out a giggle. His left leg bounced, the three year old girl adding her giggles as she put her hands down to grab his thigh for support. Shanna let out a growl.

"You look at it, then."

She threw the leather tunic at the blond haired man, high so it few over their children. His right arm shot up, hand grabbing the armor easily. The stump of his left also rose uselessly. The twins cheered at the catch.

Anelie stayed quiet. She was better, now, at controlling her feelings. At keeping the jealousy subdued. The twins helped, of course. One could not help but love them, and would they exist if Shanna was not still with Piotr? No, they would not. If Anelie had pushed her love, pushed herself between the two as she had before that fateful night...