Book 5, Chapter 18: The River Crossing

“That is not the Ketzillian army.”

“Nope.” We were lying prone on the last hill overlooking the giant bridge and the army encamped there, forming a large circle just beyond the bridge. The ground was mostly free of grass, just packed dirt, so often had armies taken this spot. “If I’m not mistaken, that banner is Hafthon’s.”

“It is, Princess.”

“Well, this is going to be interesting. At least I don’t have to blast through thousands of troops.”

“What about his mages?”

“Right. Good point. Fifteen or so, if Crygmore is with him.”

“Can you handle that many?”

“You there!” a voice from behind us shouted, “We have you surrounded. Surrender and name yourself.”

I looked over my shoulder. A scouting party, perhaps ten soldiers, several with bows drawn on us. “Damn.”

The big man stood up, “This is Princess Cayce. We would like an audience with Earl Hafthon.”

“Morry!” I switched to a harsh whisper, “I was going to go with ‘weary travelers, seeking to cross the river.’ Why are we telling them who we are? What about the mages?”

“They’re not usually around. Probably we can speak to Hafthon, and quickly be on our way.”

The man stepped forward, sword in hand. “If you’re the princess, then I’m the king,” the soldier said as he walked toward us. Other soldiers flanked us, and yet more were taking the reins of our horses off the trees.

I looked at Morry, shrugged, looked at the soldier. Smiled.

“Hello, daddy.”

***

“Princess Cayce, why do I find you all alone, save for your general here, in my encampment?”

I enjoyed watching the soldier’s face as the earl confirmed who I was. Since no one else could confirm who I was, Morry and I had been waiting, under the sun, for some time before the earl was eventually notified. Yes, I could have threatened them with magic to speed things along, perhaps heat up their armor and laugh as they madly stripped, but this way I got into the camp unnoticed. No fanfare made it less likely the mages would know I’d arrived. Unless, of course, they could detect our perseidian iron. So far, they hadn’t made an appearance and that meant I didn’t have to kill anyone. Plenty of time left in the day, though.

“That, Earl Hafthon, is a long conversation. Suffice it to say that General Morrentz and I need to cross that bridge.”

“Do you? Now that you’re here, my lady, I insist you stay a while to recuperate from what must have been a long journey.”

I didn’t roll my eyes at all and felt slight – very, very slight – admiration of his manipulation of events. The man wanted answers. I couldn’t really blame him. “Refreshments, followed by a hot bath, would be lovely. If you have hot baths around, I mean.”

“Not readily available. But,” he glared at the soldier who escorted us in, “this first rank scout here will see to it.”

“Sir!” The man turned and all but fled.

“While we’re waiting, come get some shade and beverages and explain to me exactly what is going on.”

***

We soon found ourselves sitting outside a tent overlooking the river. It wasn’t as fast flowing as it had been in early spring, but the river was wide and deep, even this far north. I could just see the massive bridge crossing it on the other side. On our side, it was behind a copse of trees.

“Some of the alejack you so generously gifted me?”

I smiled. “No thank you. I’ll stick to ale if you don’t mind.”

“Ale it is.” Hafthon actually poured me a mug himself. Then poured Morry some of the alejack, with a slight smirk, and himself. He lifted his cup toward me, I did likewise, and we drank. Then, “What happened to your army?”

“It’s, uh, a long story.”

“We have some time before dinner, and I’d like to know sooner than later.”

Morry quickly said, “How did you drive the Ketzles away from this side of the river?”

“Alright,” said Hafthon, taking a sip and setting his mug on the table, “I’ll first indulge your questions. Scouts alerted us to the Ketzillian army crossing the river. Fearing the worst, Crygmore and I marshalled our forces here. Carlisele, ever the brave man that he is,” he tilted his head at me to drive home what an idiot I was for entrusting Carlisele with the duchy, “thought it best to remain in his castle, protecting the dukedom.”

“Well, he had to guard against the Laemacians, in case they didn’t honor their word.”

“True enough. And to that end, he insisted on retaining the entirety of his military with him. Fortunately, the Ketzillian forces weren’t so many. It seems they’d sent the bulk of their troops to engage your army.”

“And you drove the remainder away?”

“It’s not that simple. We arrived at the river crossing and the night before the battle our mages left us. Suddenly and without explanation.” He picked up his mug again, taking a long swig this time, “honestly, I thought that was it. That we were to be destroyed.

“But we weren’t. Our scouts reported their army scrambling to cross the bridge and it appears their mages had left, too. We rushed to engage them, forcing a battle. As we outnumbered their forces and have sarissa infantry, we readily defeated their army on our side of the bridge. Then we crossed and, instead of fighting us, the remaining enemy fled. Scouts have reported that they are regrouping and we are going after them first thing tomorrow. Before they become fully prepared.”

I sat back, holding the ale in my right hand, left supporting under my elbow. Huh. All the mages fled, from both sides. I wondered what that meant. Could the grand magister have convinced them all to join him? Despite that they were enemies? Damn. If so, then I was a greater threat than even protecting their nation. My eyes dropped to stare emptily at the table.

“Princess Cayce?”

“Oh, sorry. Digesting that information. Ah, first I should congratulate you. Well done, excellent work in taking the bridge.”

“Yes, yes,” he shook his head, “and?”

Morry put his left hand on the table, “Your army here will be able to remove the Ketzillian threat on the morrow?”

“The sarissa,” Hafthon nodded to me, “are very effective.”

“In Barclay, too. They allowed us to quickly dominate their infantry.”

“Yes, that’s accurate to our situation as well.” He set his mug down and hands on the table. “It appears I was mistaken in underestimating the new weaponry and owe you an apo-”

“Never mind that, Hafthon. Both yours and the enemy mages fled the battlefield? Did you see them go? Did the grand magister appear and talk to them?” I didn’t know what I’d get from this conversation, but I wanted more details. Though I missed an opportunity to stick out my tongue and say, ‘I told you so.’

“That I don’t know. They left at night, and we found their tents empty when breaking camp to approach the enemy.”

“Huh.”

“Excuse me?”

Morry grunted out, “Princess.”

“No, Morry, I wonder. You think the Laemacian mages joined the grand magister, too?”

“We don’t know that is what’s happening. The Ketzillians could have fled home. Or have some other plan.”

“Would you two care to enlighten me as to what you’re talking about?”

“Our mages turned on us, Hafthon. They dropped their protection and . . .” my gaze dropped to the table.

Morry interrupted, “They disappeared, like yours did.”

“And the Ketzillian force you faced? I assume their mages fled as well or you wouldn’t be sitting here.”

“No, they-”

“Princess. Perhaps another time?”

I sighed and closed my eyes. “They attacked me, Hafthon. Our mages dropped their protection to attack me. The Ketzillian mages set upon our army, devastating it.”

He looked at me like I was speaking nonsense. “Why would the mages attack you? It’s no shame to lose a battle, Princess Cayce. Especially if the mages fled, leaving you heavily disadvantaged. You have no need to concoct elaborate stories-”

“Hafthon! Damnit, I wouldn’t . . .” I shook my head, got a hold of my errant tongue, and shut up. “Alright, yeah. You know what?”

“Yes?”

“Could you just see us to the bath?”

“I’d rather have the whole story now, so I can confer with my generals. We may have to alter our plans of engagement, especially if your army is lost.”

“It would give us time to,” Morry said, “freshen up.”

Hafthon and I both did a double take. “Freshen up?”

The big man went on, “All this excitement . . .”

Hinting, it seems, was lost on me. I felt dumb, but hastily said, “Right, yes! Right! I need to freshen up. Calm down. Put the sequence of events that was that horrible battle into order in my head. I stink from the road. It’s dreadful.”

He folded his arms, looking dour. “I’d prefer to get the story from you before our dinner. I need to consider the options before discussing with my generals.”

“She really does stink.”

“Hey!” With a frown, “I’ll give you all the details. They’re a lot to take in, though. I’d like some time to think before blurting them out all wrong.”

Shaking his head, Hafthon sighed, “I see. A bath, then. But I expect a full recounting at the supper table.” He stood up.

“Certainly.”

“Come with me.”

Morry leaned in before I could rise, “It’s those foxes. All over you.”

“Who am I to deny them hugs?”

“Fox urine is putrid, Princess.”

“They’re not peeing on me!”

“No, not on you. On their fur. That you embrace. A lot.”

“Oh my god, Morry, is this really the time?”

Hafthon looked over his shoulder, “You’re hugging foxes now?”

***

“You know,” I said, sliding lower into the pleasantly hot water, “you don’t have to watch me while I bathe.”

Morry, facing the door, said, “I’m hardly watching you.”

I closed my eyes, “I mean guarding. You know what I mean! Don’t have to guard me.”

“I have to make sure that no one comes to steal your clothing. If words gets out about your divinity, people might think your clothes can heal the injured.”

I let out a loud sigh. “You aren’t holding a mirror by chance, are you?”

“My lady, I am stunned at such an accusation.”

“Seriously, though, should I tell him the truth?”

“That’s a difficult question. On the one hand, it’s information that he needs. It would help him engage the enemy more forcefully and less cautiously. But, he might consider you forcibly abjugated, removing you from power.”

“And he’d be free to imprison or execute me.”

“Exactly.”

“Oh! That’s why you’re by the door.”

“Yes, that is one reason I am guarding the entrance.”

“You don’t think . . . would he try to kill me to appease the mages?”

“Hmm. I’m not sure he would sink so low. But better men have offered me worse surprises before.”

“He doesn’t know what happened with the mages, yet. Actually, it doesn’t matter.”

“Princess?”

“Realistically, there’s not a thing he could do to me. He can’t arrest me unless I allow it. Especially since he has no mages.”

“I don’t think you want to be killing your own men.”

“No, I don’t. I could melt their weapons, heat up their armor, that sort of thing. Morry, if something does go wrong, you need to get away from me as far as you can.”

“I won’t leave you, Princess.”

“Don’t be foolish. I could accidentally burn this entire camp to the ground in moments.”

“I’m not sure you should tell the earl that.”

“And if it happened, you wouldn’t be safe. Nothing near me is.”

“I’m not sure you should tell the earl that, either.”

“Yeah, probably not.” I sank lower and lower until only my nose was above the water. Then I held my breath and dropped in.

***

“Princess, you don’t have to-”

“It’s only fair. You guarded me. My turn to stare away from the bath.”

“I’m your guard. Well, your general. I’m-”

“The chef, too. Anyways, where am I supposed to go? You just said I might be unsafe and now I’m supposed to roam around the encampment while you take a bath?”

“Are you peaking?”

“No! As if I need to . . . I’m well familiar with . . . goddamn it!”

“The unicorns say otherwise, Princess.”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Ah. Well familiar with bathing, are you?”

“Baths are best enjoyed in silence, Morry. Besides, I have nowhere else to go.”

“I am quite enjoying the bath. Though silence is the one thing not contributing to my enjoyment.”

“Morry!” I nearly turned to stare at him, but instead crossed my arms, tapped my foot on the ground and tried to think of what to tell Hafthon.

An elderly woman, wearing a fine cotton, blue dress with an equally fine smock atop, strode up to me like she owned the place, put her hands on her hips, and said, “my word! Young lady just what are you doing standing in front of the bathhouse?” She looked over my shoulder, “while your guard has a bath – scandalous!”

I just stared at her, not used to being talked to like this. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“No, you are not staying here. Just think what people will say! You come with me right this instant.” The old lady grabbed me by my arm, yanking me away from the tent.

I glanced back at Morry, but he was no help, sitting in the tub and all smiles. And then was dragged away from the door, my mind full of surprise and rather empty. I could blast her, I guess, but that wouldn’t be very nice. “Woman, I am the princess. Just what do you think you’re doing?”

“The princess! And dressed like that. I nearly mistook you for a common washerwoman. If a bit young.”

“What?” At least, some errant thought entered my mind, she used the word ‘woman.’

“Not on my watch, no, not at all. We are going to get you a proper dress. The princess, my word!” The older woman took me by the shoulders, marched me into another tent while I was still in shock and could do little but blink, wondering if I would turn evil by vaporizing her – ‘No, no Hafthon, no one was here to dress me’ – and sat me down on a chair. Oh, the things we suffer to refrain from murder.

Strong, stiff hands yanked my ear forward.

“Hey!” I said out of shock more than pain.

“Hmm, looks like you know enough to wash behind your ears. There’s a good girl. Alright, then.” She moved to the dresser beside us and opened a chest on it.

“Lady, I seriously am the princess! You can just leave me be.”

“Yes, yes, so you keep saying. Sit up, straighten your back and hold still.” She grabbed my hair and began to roughly brush through it. “I’ve never seen such awful tangles. And in a princess, no less.”

I flinched and was annoyed. Nothing she could do to me, other than being a pest, could compare with Bechalle’s cuts or Etienne’s vicious spell. But I felt like I was cheating on Brin. Some other lady in waiting – decades older and clearly lacking in patience – attending to my toiletries. Dolling me up, as Brin and I say.

Ok, yeah, I had to change my mood. “I take it you’re fed up with young women’s bathing habits?”

“Oh, just about everything you young ones do,” yank, yank, yank harder, “infuriates me. You’re a rarity for cleaning behind your ears, but you’ve no care for how you’re dressing.” Extended yank, followed by three quick pulls. “And in a military camp!”

“Why are you here in a military camp? There can’t be a lot of girls for you to take care of.”

“Hafthon’s wife is here. She’s taking care of the children and I’m taking care of her.” Tug with extra tugging.

I was certainly getting my neck exercises in. “Why’d he bring his wife?”

“Not information he’d share with me, and I didn’t care to inquire.” Lighter brushing atop my head. “There. That’s better. Your hair desperately needed brushing. Why, I expect you washed twigs out of it during your bath.”

“Right, right. It’s just that if I wanted to, I don’t know, manipulate the good earl, I’d capture his wife and children and threaten their deaths. Or threaten torture. So, it’s a bit odd the earl brought them on a war campaign.”

Pause. Milder brushing, down the left side of my head. “You don’t say?” She began humming.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where they’re located in the encampment now, would you?”

The elderly lady brushed a bit more, hummed a bit more, moved around my head, “There, there. Now you are beginning – just beginning, mind you! – to look like a proper girl again. Alright. Strip those horrible clothes off.”

“I know you might be thinking,” I stood up, “there’s a whole army here at Hafthon’s command,” and pulled the dress over my head, “no chance this little girl could threaten Hafthon.” I faced her and removed my shift.

“That’s right dear, that’s a good girl.” She passed me a new, clean, and finely woven cotton shift. “If you’ll just put this on.”

“Thank you.” I pulled it over my head. “And you see, that’s where you’d be wrong.” I winked at her with my right eye. “I can, very easily, destroy an entire army.”

“Let’s see, is blue your color? No, no, it’d conflict with your eyes. Brown? I don’t think so. You know, I think we should just match the dress to your eyes.”

“That would be lovely. The dress, I mean, not killing every last man here. If possible,” arms up, I let her slide the dress overtop of my body, “I’d very much not like to kill tens of thousands of men again. Especially, those of my kingdom. Wait, wait. Puffy sleeves?”

“It’s all the rage. Now, if you’ll be kind enough to sit down again, dear? We’ll get started on your make-up.”

A large shadow blocked the doorway, “Princess, why are you threatening the good lady in waiting here? Let’s leave the poor woman alone.”

“General Morrentz, it’s good to see you finally clean again. I was just telling the good woman that-”

He crossed his arms, “No. Now sit still, keep your mouth shut and let her finish dressing you up.”

“Dresses. I used to detest them, but honestly, it’s nice to be clean and away from my dirty gambeson. But I’d prefer to wear pants.”

“Ghastly! Now, close your eyes while I apply blush.”

“It’s only for dinner. We’ll have your gambeson aired out tonight so you can wear it out tomorrow if you wish, though you’ve been wearing a dress ever since I brought you one. I think perhaps you don’t hate them as much as you say.”

“No princess should be caught dead wearing a gambeson! Tilt your head back, just slightly, and keep your eyes closed. There’s a dear.”

“I’m strongly considering marrying the Laemacian emperor just so I can get pants.”

“That seems like a large sacrifice, Princess. And I’m not sure he’d give you pants. Probably keep you naked in his harem.”

“Seriously, they have belts. Pants with belt loops.” I opened my eyes to look at him, nodding while I said, “Fully functional belt loops.”

“If you don’t keep your eyes shut, I’m going to get make-up in them. And you won’t like that, dear.”

“I’ve always preferred drawstrings myself. More manly.”

“Manly!”

“Yes, dear, listen to your bodyguard. Pants are uncomely, and only fit for laborers, not women. Dresses and make-up accentuate your natural beauty. Let the men wear the working clothes.”

“I do not want to wear a dress with big, puffy sleeves. They’re ridiculous.”

“I’m sure once we get it on you, you’ll find it very comfortable. Especially in this weather.”