The Bond - 20. Chapter 20

Marion paced around her room reading, not stopping look up as she passed her chair-bound husband. She had stopped giving him attention besides when it came time to wash or feed him, and he had lost the defiant look in his eyes as of late. When he was more outraged by his condition and her sabotage, she used to bounce ideas off of him and use his reactions as a sounding board. Now, he lacked expression when she informed him of some new horror that he was to be subjected to, and taunting him had lost its charms. At the moment, her entertainment came from Jezebel Di Coteau, with whom she had been in deep correspondence.

She seems like such a bitch. I wouldn’t trust her as far as I could throw her. Marion was reading a letter from Jezebel, detailing the plans of their joint effort in the assassination of Alexandre. Jezebel had supplied proposed battle formations for an upcoming siege on Dmitri Orr’s estate, the one property that blocked the north of Nabius – and Alexandre’s allies – from the south. It was expected by all that a fight would come to a head there, and Marion and Jezebel both saw this as the perfect opportunity to plan the death of Alex. The battle would be chaotic, and Jezebel knew how to get a man into the vanguard just behind Alex. It was expected that he would lead his men into battle, the mark of a true general of Nabius. The perfect place to strike from, and I know just the man.

Jezebel had suggested one of her own spies already embedded in the Di Coteau army, but Marion felt uneasy about entrusting the entire job to Alexandre’s cousin. She didn’t feel that Jezebel would flake at the last minute, but still didn’t want someone who wasn’t Ironian to do the job.

He took from Ironia. It’s the job of an Ironian to take from him. And besides, being murdered by the nephew of the king he killed… and a prince, at that… I suppose there’s a sense of cosmic justice there.

Marion rubbed one hand over her perfectly smooth, bald head, and sat down to compose a reply. I’ll need to send these details to Jared as soon as possible. The sooner he infiltrates Alexandre’s army, the better. Now to tell Jezebel… Marion wrote at some length, explaining that the vendetta was personal, and that she already had a man in mind to do the deed. She asked if Jezebel’s contact could get him into the army without much notice, and if there would be any problems with her man looking Ironian. Really Ironian, at that. The heir to the Coyne line, in fact. Not that Jezebel needs to know. Marion figured that there should be no problem considering just how many gladiator slaves Nabius employed, most of whom were taken from Ironia, but asked anyway. Getting Jared into the army inconspicuously shouldn’t be a problem for any spy of Jezebel’s that was at least halfway decent.

She also voiced that with the soldier she had selected, there would be no risk of talking afterwards. Jezebel would be ruined if the killing got traced back to her, and Marion knew it. It was obvious that Jezebel would have killed off her assassin after he had completed his duty, but Jared Coyne would actually be a safer bet for her. Rather than having whispers of a betrayal in the midst of the Di Coteau’s, Jared Coyne would be able to claim the glory of killing a General. Having an Ironian willing and able to accept the credit would throw off suspicion, and would work to the advantage of both women. Marion finished her letter, and sealed it with plain wax. She then went to her desk and began writing the letter to her cousin, updating him on the status of this endeavor. Midway through, she paused. She looked towards her husband, who had a glazed over and sad look on his face.

“Alexandre Di Coteau is going to die.” He looked up at her, eyes slightly widened. He couldn’t speak, but made a small noise that sounded halfway between a grunt and a moan. Drool leaked down his chin and onto his lap.

“Huh. Got a reaction from you at least,” Marion replied with mild interest. I suppose Alex was your fearless leader. Her paralyzed husband went back to his deeply depressed expression, eyes drifting to the floor. Though your surprise didn’t last long.

“Ugh,” she grunted in disgust.

***

Alexandre sat in his study, looking over countless maps and proposed battle plans from his finest soldiers and commanders. Marcus had even produced several strategy outlines before he had left with Ysabel, and they were incredibly helpful. Alex felt that he had everything he needed in place, but it would have been nice if the other great tactical minds of his group hadn’t left. Talia was on her way to the Orr estate already, and Ysabel was set to arrive at her own home soon. And Carl… he gulped. You’re so far away. He ignored the twinge in his chest, and tried to refocus. It would have been nice to have someone to talk with, but he didn’t particularly like his head officers in the army at his own estate, and none of them were particularly brilliant anyway. When the door knocked and Eamon’s voice asked if he could come in, Alex smiled at first, and then frowned. I guess it would be helpful to be able to see if you’re going to look over battle plans, he grumbled internally. Eamon’s not going to be much use here.

“Come in.”

Eamon swung the door open, and confidently strut his way through the long room up towards the desk. He even went up the stairs without trouble, and approached the side of the chair where he evidently knew Alex was sitting.

“Hello Eamon.”

“Hello, General.” Eamon was beaming, giving a joyful expression rarely shown in Nabius. Alex raised an eyebrow at that, and waited for Eamon to speak or deliver whatever delightful news he clearly had. When he said nothing, Alex was a little confused.

“May… I help you with something?”

“Oh, right.” The smile was gone, and Alex wondered if it came from Eamon’s successful navigation to where he was. “I came to tell you that I’d like to fight for you, or at least return to my post as one of your guard.” Alex made to speak, but Eamon was quicker, and cut him off before there could be any potential protest. “I know I’m still blind, and it’s permanent and all… but I really think I could be useful to you still. I’ve been practicing, and being a spear-user originally, I think I’ve got a great feel for how to keep up with combat. My weapons have a decent range, and I still think I can best the average soldier. I promise I won’t let you down, and I’ll be even more fiercely loyal now that I’ve been disabled for your cause. I promise.” Alex made to speak again, but was interrupted this time by a knock on the door.

“Well good grief. Come in,” he said. Eamon still looked pleading, but Alex decided he would mentally compose his reply while seeing what his next visitor needed. The visitor was a welcome sight, and some of Alex’s annoyance at being interrupted again dissipated when he walked in.

“Luca! What a nice surprise. How was town?”

“Good, good,” Luca said with a smile as he walked in. He paused slightly at the sight of Eamon, and Eamon’s eager smile wavered. Alex could tell that there was some serious tension there, but he decided it wasn’t his business.

I regrettably don’t have time for it anyway.

“How can I help you? Are you here about our new trading terms with Prince Adrian?” That made Luca flinch a little and glance towards the blind guard, which clued Alex that Adrian was the source of the tension between Luca and Eamon.

Well that’s not much of a shock.

“No, actually. Though it does have to do with Adrian.” Alex gestured at one of the chairs on the front side of his desk, there for meeting with important nobles.

“Have a seat.” Luca did, and Eamon leaned up against a marble column.

“Well,” began Luca, “he’s been talking about heading back to the Illjard quite soon, with a captain that he’s good friends with and that he trusts. He says he wants to beat the last of the summer snows so that I can adjust more easily.”

“Sensible.” Alex was waiting for him to get to the point.

“That’s so soon though. I mean… too soon.” There was a pause, and then Alex replied.

“I’m not sure I understand. Too soon for…?” Luca wore a blank expression.
“For us. For you,” he eventually sputtered. “It’s too soon with everything that’s going on.” He turned towards Eamon, and addressed him awkwardly. “I, uh, I thought about what you said. You’re right. I can still be useful here.” He turned back towards Alex. “And I want to be. I want to stay, and help in whatever ways that I can. I owe you that. The war to come is going to be a big one, and I reckon that you’re going to need everyone that you can get.” Alexandre smiled, and shook his head.

You have no idea.

“You’ve done enough for me as it is. You don’t owe me anything.”

“Yes I do,” said Luca determinedly. “It’s my place, and I know that.” Alex paused, thinking this over. Luca had a strong sense of duty, and Alexandre knew and appreciated that. He figured if Luca felt this was his place and where he was meant to be, he was probably right. Eventually the general nodded, accepting that, and looked towards Eamon.

“It’s good to have friends as loyal as you two.” He leaned back in his chair, and rubbed his temples. “I’m glad that you feel you know where your place is, Luca. And I equally appreciate that you’re trying to reconfigure what yours is, Eamon. But unfortunately, unless you both have hidden armies somewhere, I’m not sure you can be much use to me anyway. It seems we may be outnumbered. Eamon, I don’t want you fighting or coming with me.”

“But – “

“That’s final,” Alex said sharply. “Luca, I’d gladly keep you here and have you run the estate again, but with the amount of men I’m projected to need that would essentially leave the manse unprotected. I can’t ask you to stay through that. I’ve got to take all the men I have with me, save a few guards. Eamon… if you’re really ready to go back to work, you may lead the guards here that will be protecting the manse.” Eamon’s posture changed from sullen to excited, and Alex was glad.

That seemed to placate him.

“Of course! I appreciate the opportunity. I won’t let you down.”

Alex nodded, and spoke again. “I know you wont. And I hope you don’t view it as a suicide mission. With luck, no one will venture this far north anyway. In the case that they do… Eamon, I’ll need you to be your best self. And you’ll absolutely need to fight.” Alex turned now to Luca, who seemed to be biting his tongue. “But you, Luca, are not a fighter. I don’t mean to be condescending, that’s just the truth. It’s possible that there will be attacks on the manse while I am away south, and there’s no reason for me to subject you to that kind of danger. Especially not with your wedding coming up. The Di Coteau estate cannot protect you, and thus I’m not going to ask you to stay. Alfie can run the finances.” Luca frowned, but Alex was resigned to this being the way it was.

“Alfie is shit with numbers,” Eamon said. “He can barely keep up with placing his own food orders for the kitchens.”

“That’s true,” said Luca. “Look. I know you’re not asking me to stay, but I’m asking you to let me. I can run the estate while you’re gone, and if you’re leaving a blind man in charge, I don’t think protecting this piece of property is really your prime concern. No offense,” he said with a look towards Eamon.

“None taken.”

“Besides, this fight is what I stand for, and you know that. You know why. I’m not going to run to some frozen island while you’re in need. I just need you to convince Adrian to let me stay, and that you need me here.” Alex looked Luca up and down, but sighed.

“I can’t do that if that’s not the truth. I don’t need you staying here unprotected and getting killed behind my back. Like you said, the head of security is going to be a blind man. Uh, no offense.”

“None taken,” said Eamon again, but with a significantly crankier tone of voice.

“So… the problem for you is that you don’t have enough men to take to the fight and protect your homelands at the same time? That’s what’s keeping you from having me stay to run things?” Alex reflected on that question for a moment.

“I suppose that’s one way of putting it,” he eventually said. “I just don’t need my friends risking their lives because of my inability to provide them with protection.”

“Well then we don’t have a problem, because I do actually have an army.” The room was silent for a couple of seconds, and Luca crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly. Alex rubbed his ear as if he had been having hearing problems.

“Pardon me?”

“I uh…. Well, while you were gone, Eamon and I went about a certain mission.” Alex looked towards Eamon, who nodded and confirmed this to be true.

“And where exactly did you two raise an army?” Luca looked guilty.

“I did a little refinancing, and armed the poor folk of Mullansburg. They’re not exactly veteran soldiers, but I think they would be loyal to me if I asked.” Alex was dumbfounded, and didn’t know what to say.

“We used Wilhelm and Mikhail’s forge and a couple of other local ones in town to create basic armor and weaponry for them,” Eamon chipped in. “They all love Luca for it.”

“I’d bet they do,” said Alex. Luca shrugged under his stare, and eventually Alex sighed and decided not to be surprised about this omission of Luca’s. “Okay then. I guess it is what it is.”
“It is,” said Luca confidently.

“And you think that these common folk will rally under you to defend the Di Coteau estate?”
“I do.”

“You’re sure?”

“I am.”

“Very well. I owe you thanks for solving yet another of my problems. You’ll stay here and run the north while I travel south with my men, and I’ll convince Adrian to let you. I hope he’s not a possessive man… though you’re not really an object to just take, anyway.”

Luca smiled at that, and Alex stood up from his desk to go have a chat.

***

If I can present Orr’s head at the moment that his troops are surrounded by Alexandre’s and Carl’s, the men should all yield. Talia had an unpleasant sensation in her gut, which grew more and more ominous with every step she took towards the Orr border. It loomed close, and her instincts told her more and more that she needed to solidify her plans more concretely. I guess they could kill me and take me down with them, but the men should turn. Hopefully. The timing just has to be right. If an entire army witnesses me take out their leader at the same time that they’re surrounded by tons of men and women ready to die for my cause… the rest should be history. She thought back on her lessons on the history of Nabius, knowing that armies typically turned to their vanquishers after their leader had been defeated in battle. Sometimes there were wait periods where people would wait to see who rose to the top in the struggle for power, but usually a decisive enough victory or blow could cause men to rally to one’s side.

Her father had once won over an entire squadron of men in a matter of seconds, charging through a frontline of soldiers on his horse to get to their leader. By standing up on the saddle and sending the horse to it’s death on a line of spears, Darion Di Coteau had been able to launch himself into the crowd and decapitate a commander in one jump and swing of his massive war axe. This feat had made the history books of Nabius, alongside countless other tales of battle dominance that had struck enough fear into the hearts of soldiers to cause them to turn. Talia decided she would figure out the more specific logistics later, when she had a better feel for the layout of the Orr palace. Lets just hope I can pull off something half as decent. Orr’s generalship is, after all, key to our succeeding in this war. If we can’t connect our allied territories to form a line… she frowned.

Talia crossed over a small bridge above a brook that babbled happily along and shone dully in the moonlight. The air was muggy here, a sure sign that she was getting to be further and further south. Numerous streams ran through the land here off of the southern mountains and the cliffs that belonged to Jack Du Vance, general of the territory just north east of her current location. The area was swampy, and the ground had a coating of moss that was pleasantly squishy underneath the boot. Good for masking footfall.

She was down past the capitol, finally southern enough to be in unfriendly territory. Her mother and her army would march this same way just a while after her, but no one would dare to challenge Ysabel’s army. She would be retreating to her own stronghold, preparing for upcoming battle. When Alexandre’s forces marched down from the north towards General Orr’s estate, Ysabel would have to hold the south at her own fortress. And I will hopefully be able to take out Orr and open the gates from inside to prevent too much bloodshed in this battle. We’ll need all the strength we can get.

Talia saw torchlight up ahead, and began to quiet her steps even further, straining to see what lie on the path in front of her. A checkpoint.

Talia saw what looked to be a small camp of three tents on one side of the entrance to a large stone bridge that covered a much larger body of water, which she needed to cross. Next to it was a rickety watchtower with one man atop it. He was holding a torch, and there were two others down below sitting near a campfire. She wasn’t sure if there was anyone in the tents, but she figured she could keep en eye on their entrances when she approached. Damn. I need to cross that bridge… she thought on it, but determined there was no other option but to fight her way through. I’m drawing first blood… at least I have surprise on my side.

Talia snuck through the brushes to the right of the path that she had been on, approaching the backside of the watchtower in a large semicircle. She knew that dealing with an archer with a high ground like that would make her fight much more dangerous, so she decided to take him out first. She crept slowly towards the base of the ladder at the back of the tower, frowning at its poor construction. Did they just tie together sticks to build this?

Holding her breath, she listened to make sure no one on the ground had seen her yet. They hadn’t.

Talia began to scale the ladder, climbing quickly and her heart pumping. When she reached the top, she looked onto the platform and smiled. The archer atop the platform was looking the wrong direction, and he never saw her coming. Talia had soundlessly opened his throat from behind, and caught his body before it hit the floor. She now had the vantage point, and picked up his bow. Three arrows. These guys must be in short supply here I guess… oh well. One for each of them at the campfire.

She took a deep breath in, notched an arrow, and lifted the bow to aim. Here goes. Talia let loose one arrow, and it hit her target squarely in the back of the neck. He let out a groan, and before his two companions sitting around the fire even had time to react, she had loaded the second arrow.

Two, she thought, and landed her mark again, also in the throat. Man three, and she loaded the arrow. He, however, was faster, and realized that the fire was coming from his own tower.

“Shit,” he shouted while running clumsily away from where he had just been lounging. “Oh gods!”

That’s right, Talia thought, you’re done. The man ran, knocking supplies over as he moved past his fire to reach a horse that was grazing nearby. Talia released her third arrow, knowing that it would connect. The man went down, and she breathed a sigh of relief. She closed her eyes for a moment, but opened them quickly after hearing the sounds of her victim running once more. She realized what had happened, and her mouth dropped open in disbelief. He tripped… he fell flat on his face and made me miss. No way.

The watchman was already mounting his horse, and it began to take off across the bridge towards Orr’s mainland estate. Ugh.

Talia took a throwing dagger off of her belt, unsure if she could make the toss from so high up, and such a long distance. The horse had started to gallop now, and she wouldn’t be able to make it down the ladder to catch up before he put too much distance in between her and him. Talia grabbed the dagger by the blade, kissed the hilt, and lobbed it high.

The blade flew in a long arc, spinning rapidly as it soared. It flashed with the reflection of the moon on its silver shaft, sparkling as it aspired to reach her target.

Yes. The blade hit, lobbing into the back of the rider as he pushed on. The satisfaction was imminent, but it faded quickly when he didn’t stop pushing on. It had hit, but wasn’t fatal. If he doesn’t die from that… there’s going to be news that someone’s coming. Oh no.