Book 5, Chapter 21: Tea And Dresses

The busyness of the camp woke me up. The night was yet with us, twilight not quite creeping up on the world, and the soldiers were getting ready. They needed to eat, break camp, and head out before sunrise, to catch the enemy army.

I sighed and sat up. No real point in sleeping in later than my countrymen. Morry hadn’t woken and as I looked at him, I felt like I owed the man a rabbit for breakfast. Except, we were in an encampment. That meant eggs, bacon, and other goodies. Even better.

Rising out of bed, stretching, trying to yawn quietly, I snuck out and headed to the breakfast scents, hoping to bring some back for the big man before he got up. After all, a billion years ago or perhaps a little less, he said he’d be happy with breakfast in bed.

I realized my error when, walking around, every separate tent was making their own breakfast. Apparently most of the food was centrally dispensed and meals organized by individual regiments. I was a touch disheartened at the thought of returning empty handed, when a young girl in a pink dress walked up to me.

After an awkward curtesy, she asked, “Are you the princess?”

“Not really, but everyone around me sure thinks so.”

She leaned in toward me. “I looked for you at your tents.”

The girl, no more than seven or eight, was a little young to be an assassin. Probably a messenger. “Well, you found me here.”

She nodded and spoke as if she’d rehearsed it, “The duchess bids you good morning and requests your royal presence at her tents.”

“Huh. Alright. Where are these tents?”

“I’ll take you there!”

“Lead on.”

She took me by the hand and I followed. Tents were coming down as we walked, the encampment being transformed from village to flattened landscape, dotted with cooking fires. When these were extinguished, and because I’d torn not a few trees straight out of the ground last night, the area would resemble a used minefield. With a latrine.

***

An older woman, perhaps in her forties or fifties, dressed in light blue, greeted me with a curtsy, saying, “Your Highness, a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“The pleasure is mine. Duchess Hafthon I presume.”

“I never imagined entertaining in an army encampment, but I suppose before we are done speaking, it will be gone. So ephemeral our domiciles these days.”

“Uhm, yes. That’s exactly how I’d describe it. Ephemeral.”

“I imagine you’ve had morning tea already,” she gestured at the table, “but here, some sweets and tea.”

As I pushed my dress forward to sit, I realized that I’d tossed on one of the simple cotton ones Morry’d brought that had sent the handmaiden into hysterics. Whoops. At least this one was clean. “Excuse me for looking so plain. I hadn’t expected to . . . visit this morning.”

The sky had just begun to lighten, but the dark purple of twilight yet held back the first light blue tones of dawn.

“Of course. You’ve arrived without your entourage and are heading out immediately, I’m told. Well, between you and I,” she leaned across the table conspiratorially, “it’s a travesty. One that I’m going to remedy.”

I had no idea what she was talking about. Lending me ladies in waiting? Not the old woman, I’d hoped. Probably the elderly lady hoped not to join me, too. “Ah, ok. Thank you, that’s very kind. I, uhm, won’t be taking, sorry, cannot be taking ladies in waiting with me on the journey if that’s what you’ve had in mind.”

“Oh, pity! Lady Desmoralda will have to stay with me in that case. However, I have brought extra dresses and separated some out for you, so you won’t have to go wearing those,” she shook her head, “the same dress every day.”

“No, really, it’s no trouble at all. And I’ll shortly be at Castle Bechalle, excuse me, Hafthon, where my clothes are. Stored. With ladies in waiting. Mine. My ladies in waiting.”

“Really, dear, I insist. Who would I be if I didn’t help out a fellow lady of the court?”

I was young and exercising every day and, if you ignored the rampant alcoholism, in great shape and naturally that made me wonder just how large these dresses would be.

“Oh, you needn’t worry. About the size.”

I panicked, wondering if she was a telepath. “Pardon me?”

“Your eyes, dear. They give away your thoughts. The dresses will fit you, I am sure. And if they don’t, we have belts to take care of that.”

“Alright. Thank you for thinking of me.”

“Oh, it’s nothing. By giving these to you, I will need more later. And what fun that will be! All at my husband’s expense.”

“Right.” So much fun, I thought to myself. So much.

***

After eating some sugary breaded thing and a tart, while wishing I had eggs and bacon, and sipping on tea, she took me into her tent. Three dresses were laid out on the bed, each of them too big for me. But now, oh I just knew, I couldn’t say anything about that.

“This one,” the lady picked up a deep black dress that was neither glossy nor reflective, doing a great job absorbing visible light, and was made of stiff cotton, “is your new riding dress. We’ll put that on you this morning. This one here,” a red and green dress, billowy, “is for the night you arrive at the castle, more celebratory, and this last one for lounging.” It was off-pink. Just my color.

“Wow.” I forced the words out of my mouth. “They are pretty. Very pretty. Thank you kindly.”

“Now, off with those rags. Let’s get you into something befitting your station. If you’ll indulge my arrogance, of course, as these dresses were fit for a countess and you are a princess.”

“Oh, no, not at all. They are great. Definitely befit my station.” I reluctantly put my hands up and waited a bit. She did not pull the dress over my head. Huh. I therefore pulled it off myself and with relative ease. This one was made to be worked in, not some fancy weave used to show off one’s wealth and station, requiring buttons and pins and all manner of help to get on and off. I sighed inwardly at the prospect of now donning such a dress but became happier once realizing I could simply change back when we stopped for lunch.

“Some say it’s a pity, the mages leaving.” She picked up the black dress, “But if you ask me, it’s a good thing.”

“Oh?”

“Have you seen the faces of the men going into battle this morning?”

“I’m embarrassed to say that I did not.”

“They’re relieved. They feel safer.”

“Oh?”

“A battlefield with mages is determined by mages. Soldiers are so much window dressing. There to put on a good show, tell the enemy army that our kingdom has men willing to give their lives for their lands and ladies. But none can survive a magical attack. And when it comes, those men run or die.”

“I certainly understand that feeling. The soldiers have a lot to fear with mages around.”

“You are too young to notice such trepidation.” This time she helped me pull the dress on. Then went about tightening various straps it had, doing me up like a bizarre, horse-riding goth chic. I just needed black and white make-up.

“Trepidation?”

“The men shaking when the mages are present. Soiling themselves. It’s true. It’s fear. And helplessness.”

“I’ve long thought no one should have that much power. I am glad they’re gone.” Except, you know, the whole hunting me part of the being gone.

“Exactly that.” She pulled the waist belt tight and I felt like how Cloud must feel when being saddled. “So. No matter what my husband says to you, ignore him.”

“He told you about, uh, my situation?”

“You were right to turn him down. Let men be men.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She pulled an arm strap tight, “Oh you little devil, am I so old as to be ma’am now?”

“Ah.”

“I’m teasing. Of course I am! Why, you must be not quite sixteen yet. Everyone’s old to you.”

I slumped a bit. “Kind of.”

“A word of advice, if I may, Princess Cayce.”

“Please.”

“My husband’s a good man. Means well for his subjects. Looks after his lands. But he’s stern and cagey, too. I know you’re a young girl thrust into leading the kingdom, but you have to stand up to him. He won’t bend, no, no, that’s not him. And neither can you. Be firm in your rule and my husband will come to respect you.”

“Huh. I never thought of it that way.”

“Of course, you’re new to all this conniving.”

“Thank you. I’m glad we met, though I wish it were in better circumstances. And I’m glad I didn’t have to take you hostage.”

“Weren’t able to, you mean. You’d have done so, given the chance.”

“I really don’t like that part of being a princess.”

“You’re a good girl. You’ll make a fine queen. And that is that,” she turned me around by the shoulders to face the mirror, “there you are! What a pretty girl. Yes, this dress is perfect.”

Even without make-up, my lavender eyes came alive against the matte black of the dress. And I’d been mistaken, it had white trim along its sleeves and belts, for all the world making me into a cross between someone out of a post-apocalyptic world and a gothic horror story. I instinctively reached for my sawed off, double barrel shotgun, with crosses carved into its barrel and sporting silver bullets with little chunks of wood inside, to take care of both vampires and werewolves.

It was, I had to admit, my favorite dress so far.

***

The blues had broken through the purples, dawn slowly creeping upon the camp as I walked back to my tents, sans the breakfast I was going to bring the big man. Nope, I carried dresses instead. Morry would be so pleased. The encampment was all but gone, regiments were forming up, messengers running here and there, the army to set off shortly.

A familiar voice startled me.

“Princess Cayce?” asked Tread.

“Tread!” I gave him a hug, squishing the dresses, for the sole reason that he was still alive. Alright, I missed him, too.

His eyes welled up, a tear streaking down his cheek, and his arms seemed to be fighting the urge to lift, “I thought . . . we,” he straightened his surcoat, pulling it tight, “received messages yesterday saying that you were lost. Missing. I feared the worst.”

I took his hands in mine and squeezed. “I certainly feel lost, that’s true. But it’s good to see you, Tread.”

The young man smiled, “I’m glad you are found.” We dropped hands and he wiped his errant tear away.

I stood back to ask, “What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be overseeing Carlisele’s castle?”

“He removed me as chamberlain and stuck me back in the army soon after you left. He said he didn’t want a child running the castle.”

“What an ass.”

“I’m not particularly fond of him, either, my lady.”

“And, what are you doing here then? Were you transferred to Hafthon’s army?” That worried me, they were about to see fighting. I felt the urge to take the boy with me, especially if that were the case. Yet traveling with me was arguably more dangerous.

“The earl made me a messenger boy. He said-”

“Messenger boy! That rank is too low for you, Sir Tread. You’re a knight. I shouldn’t have given him the castle to watch over, but that’s been rectified. I just exalted Hafthon to the duchy.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Hafthon will have to send a messenger to Carlisele to inform him.”

Tread looked down at the ground, “That’ll, uh, likely be me. That’s going to suck. As you say.”

“What? Hafthon doesn’t have his own messengers?”

“Easier to just send me back. Hey!” He brightened, “perhaps I could join you if you’re just passing through. That way-”

“He wouldn’t direct his anger at you. Uh, well, I’m not really headed to Castle Bechalle. Or Hafthon, I guess. Certainly not Carlisele! God, what a mess.”

“I was going to say, better explain the situation. Hey!” Tread suddenly smiled, looking over my shoulder.

“What is it?”

“Look who we meet this morning but Sir Tread!” said Morry, coming up from behind me and placing his big hand on the boy’s shoulder, “It’s good to see you alive. Why, I believe you’ve grown and filled out some. What are you doing here in Hafthon’s encampment?”

Tread looked at me, looked at the big man, “I’m a messenger now.”

“A knighted messenger? I’m not sure that’s a good idea. What do you think, Princess?”

“Of course it’s not a good idea! Shouldn’t be allowed.”

“That’s settled, Sir Tread will just have to come with us then.”

“If you’ll watch over him.” I gave him a pointed stare. I didn’t want to be killing two of my three friends anytime soon. “You know how dangerous that will be.”

“The journey from here to there won’t be dangerous, my lady,” said Tread.

“Even if it is,” Morry crossed his arms, “we’re both headed to Hafthon’s new castle and might as well travel together.”

“What? That’s not where we’re headed.”

“It’s in the same direction. Besides, the new duke is going to ask you to take missives.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because you gave him the duchy last night. He’ll want you to tell Carlisele yourself. He’ll say it’s to avoid confusion, but it’s really to put the man in his place.”

“Ugh! Maybe it would have just been simpler for me to melt all the Ketzillian troops.”

“You’re the one who exalted him. Anyways, let’s go have morning tea.” He held up the canvas bag he was carrying, “Eggs and bacon.”

“Where’d you get those?”

“I just now visited the commissary.”

“The commissary. Of course. That’s right. That’s where you get supplies.”

“I imagine that’s where you were coming from, the dress commissary?”

“No, fudge, I . . . was accosted by this little girl who forced-”

“Accosted? Forced?”

“Yes to both! She brought me to the duchess. Hafthon’s wife. Nice lady. But she forced these dresses on me. I don’t know, maybe we can use them for kindling?”

“My lady,” Tread said, “those must be quite valuable. Brin would be aghast.”

“I’m sure she would. I do like this black one, though.”

“It does highlight your cheek bones,” said the big man. “Makes you look like a witch.”

“A witch? Damn. Honestly, I kind of am one, hey.”

“What happened, were you cursed? Is that why you’re in danger?”

“No. What?” I switched topics, talking to the big man, “Anyways, I’d actually set out to get you breakfast for a change, Morry. But I guess you got it first. Come with us, Tread. Have you had breakfast yet?”

“Breakfast?”

“Morning tea.” I sighed. There were only so many things I could do wrong in a single day. I hoped this reached my quota. “With eggs and bacon. Morning tea, the drink, too.”

“Not yet. I’d love to join you. But, I’d best drop these messages off first.”

***

“Seriously, though, did I do right?”

“Hafthon is here on this side of the river because he is competent. You don’t have to like him. But, you chose the right man for the duchy.”

“I sure hope so. He’s still as conniving as usual, though. Doesn’t seem at all cowed by me.”

“Until you prove otherwise, you remain another tool for him.”

“Yeah. Hey,” scraping off the last of my plate into the firepit, I asked, “what should we do with these? The army’s leaving. Do we take them? Leave them?”

“If we need an extra set of plates, I say we take them.”

“You don’t think we have enough?”

“If Tread brought his own, then yes. What made you want to prepare morning tea today?”

“Well, I, this is going to sound foolish. But you once said you’d like morning tea in bed. Ever since then, I’ve been wanting to-”

A young boy ran up to the table, interposed himself between the big man and me. “Princess! My lady,” he breathed and breathed in quickly, panting away, then held up a letter. “It’s from the duke, ma’am.”

“It seems he’s wasted no time in adopting the title.”

I took the letter from the boy’s hands. “Thank you. It is his now, Morry. Huh, Hafthon wants a last meeting before we go. God, I was just with his wife! He could have seen me there. Isn’t he taking the army out to battle? What do you think he wants?”

“I don’t know, Princess. Perhaps you should go alone, this time.”

“Alone?”

“I’ll get the horses ready. You show him that you aren’t afraid of him. Of anything.”

“Just myself.”

“What’s that?”

“Mostly afraid of myself right now.” I patted him on the arm, headed off with the messenger boy.

***

A new tent had been erected. Likely because I destroyed the previous one. This was an open-air tent, to protect from the not quite rising sun. Tread was standing just out of earshot. Waiting, I guess, for whatever Hafthon decided to send to Carlisele.

“Princess Cayce,” he nodded, gesturing toward a seat.

“Good morning.” His generals stood as I moved toward it, sat. “Uhm, I’m sorry about the tent last night. And the chairs. And, yeah, the trees.”

He sort of half smiled, folded his hands on the table, “Ale?”

“No thank you. I’m trying to give up morning inebriation. Tea, perhaps?” A girl moved over to a separate table, began preparing what was likely my tea.

“I’ll get right down to it. Today’s messenger brought alarming news. It seems Laemacia hasn’t honored your agreement.”

“They’re attacking? Damn Otholos.”

“Exactly so. Given that you are the ruling monarch and . . . given your powers, you need to make a decision.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Either we withdraw our army from here to join Carlisele’s, leaving this part of the kingdom to the Ketzillian forces or you use your magic.”

“Hafthon, we’ve gone over this.”

“Damnit!” he slammed his hand on the table, “We don’t have enough troops or time! We no longer have mages. We are spread out on too many fronts, and we will lose the kingdom. Unless you do something.”

“I don’t think the Laemacians have mages, either. If that helps.”

“What? How did you come by this information?”

“The mages are gathering, working together across political boundaries. That’s why the Ketzillian mages left at the same time ours left. It’s the only explanation that makes sense. I think they’re preparing to deal with me.”

He stood up straighter, almost backing up, “If that is true . . .”

“Yes. That’s how great a danger they believe I am. And you want me to give in to these powers, this rage.”

“I don’t know what to say.”

I shook my head. “You didn’t consider this angle, did you? If you had, you’d be urging me to surrender to the mages. No, you and your generals see a weapon and want to use it.”

One of his generals stood up. General 1, I think. “Princess Cayce, if you truly believe what you’ve told us, if you think you’re a danger to all, perhaps you should surrender. Perhaps the mages can help you. Help us all.”

“You know what bothers me? They join our armies – the enemy’s and ours – and watch and even help as we battle over and over. With their power, the mages never put a stop to the endless wars. They could have! But they choose sides, just like we do. Until I came along. I seem to have finally unified the mightiest weapons of war this planet has produced.”

“Planet? Princess-”

Waving my hand, I cut off the duke. “How big is the Laemacian army?”

“Large. We don’t know. The missives estimated over two hundred thousand strong. Or greater.”

“Damn. We could hold against them if, maybe, with the heavy cavalry and the crossbow regiments.”

“I’ll send a messenger to General Brundle.”

General 2 blurted out, “It’ll take a week for him to get up here. And at least three days for the messengers to get there.”

“No,” I said absentmindedly, “it’s not a wagon army, but a horse army. Four days, maybe. Assuming he’s rebuilt the army.”

“If he’s rebuilt it, he’s attacking the remnants of the Ketzillian force.” The new duke went on, “No competent general would let such a force escape.”

“Alright, what options does that leave us?”

“If you won’t use your magic, and you want this land secured, we’ll have to do the same. We’ll be leaving shortly to attack the remaining Ketzles. If we can catch them today, we can leave in perhaps two days to aid Carlisele.”

“You’d said you have double their number.”

“Yes, my lady,” said General 1.

“Though,” added Crygmore’s general, “we could split up. Send our forces, some 20 000, to support Carlisele immediately.”

Hafthon pointed at the table map, “I’d prefer to keep all our forces together. By outnumbering them greatly, we’ll make short work of them. Hell, they might even surrender. And then we’ll execute the officers and conscript the remaining troops.”

I glared at Hafthon angrily. One more reason to avoid my magic, as there wouldn’t be any left to conscript if I melted the ground they stood on. Shaking my head, I thought to invite the earl’s opinion, “Crygmore?

“I agree with the duke.”

I wondered for a moment why I bothered to ask. “Right. Excellent. Now, how large is Carlisele’s force?”

“He can probably muster ninety thousand men if he strips the village and countryside before engaging the Laemacians. But that’ll be-”

“Thirty thousand farmers.”

“Peasants. Worthless against their army. And they’ll be bringing rhinos. Carlisele’s army won’t stand a chance without us.”

“Alright. That is our plan then, gentlemen. I will leave for Carlisele and you end the Ketzillian threat here. Please make all possible haste to join us.”

He crossed his arms. “If you are unwilling to use your power, what exactly are you hoping to gain by riding out to a doomed army?”

“I’m going to, and this is foolish, but I’m going to talk to the emperor. Maybe give into his demands of marriage if that’ll stop the war. I’m sorry. I just made you duke and now I might have to give our kingdom away.”

“You’re so afraid of your power that you’d sacrifice yourself to a harem?”

“Yes.” I shook my head, “Because, you know, if I can stop him through marriage there’ll still be people alive in this world. That seems to me a positive.”

“I’m not convinced you will destroy everything by using magic. The army has always had mages.”

“If you won’t believe me, talk to Brundle about our battle. Or anyone who survived it.” I looked at the ground. “I turned the battlefield into a hellscape. Melted the very ground soldiers were standing on. Last night, that was nothing. A candle to a wildfire.”

“You’re a stubborn child. I’ve accepted I won’t convince you. If the kingdom falls, it will be your responsibility.”

His generals gave each other a glance.

I nodded. “I will do my utmost to convince the emperor not to attack.”

“He’s already committed forces! He’s not . . .” Hafthon closed his eyes and sighed. “He’s not going to listen to a little girl. It’s not marriage he’s after, not with marshalling and fielding such a large force.”

Saying nothing, I stared at the man.

“My lady,” began one of the generals, 1 or 2, I’d lost track of them, “though you are very powerful, please take our council. We have much experience in these matters and have been dealing with politics and warfare longer than you’ve been alive.”

“I am beyond your experience and not a weapon you can just point at the enemy.” No, I thought to myself, I’m much more akin to a doomsday device. And losing my patience.

“Princess,” said Hafthon, standing, “if Otholos can defeat our armies, he won’t need you for legitimacy. You must understand this. Because he’s marched on us, he’s decided to remove you from the board. He will attempt to defeat our armies to better take our lands.”

“I have to try. Reason with him if I can.”

The general stood to speak, but the duke shook his head slightly.

“You are choosing a very narrow pathway for us, the kingdom.” Eyes down at the table. “If you won’t listen to reason . . . I wish you all possible luck in that endeavor. Now, I’ve arranged forty cavalry to escort you to the former Castle Bechalle. We’ll get to the re-naming later.”

“We won’t be needing an escort.”

“Princess, though these are our lands, there may yet be enemy soldiers on the roads. Saboteurs, stragglers, bandits.”

“Hafthon, they don’t pose me any danger.”

“I must insist. We can’t have the princess travelling unescorted.”

Walking around the table, I closed the distance between us and spoke in a low voice, “There’s nothing these men can do to protect me. They’ll only get in the way. Or worse if the mages show up. Keep them with you, destroy the Ketzle forces with all possible haste.”

“My lady, protocols such as these are important. They’re escorting you to the castle.”

“You’re putting their lives in danger and I don’t see why.”

“Alright. They’re going with you as a symbolic show of force. For Carlisele, to let him know you’ve chosen me as duke.”

“I’ll tell him myself.”

“I am glad to hear that. Nevertheless-”

“Is this a pissing contest? Ok, fine, we’ll escort your cavalry to Carlisele. But I might just knight them on the way.”

“You know my feelings on the matter. I haven’t accepted your knighthood in my lands.”

I crossed my arms, looked him in the eyes. “Yes you have, Hafthon.”

He stared at me for a bit, may have narrowed his eyes, and was probably angry. As a presumed deity, it wasn’t for me to care about these trivial matters anymore. And it was enjoyable to turn the tables on him.

After a few moments, which may have been uncomfortable for the new duke, the captain of his honor guard, now mine I guess, politely coughed and, still holding the reins of his white horse, said, “Your Highness, I am Captain Horne and am honored to accompany you to Castle Hafthon.”

Turning to the captain, I said, “Let’s head to my tents to collect my companions.”

“If it pleases you, ma’am,” he pulled his horse closer, “you may ride atop my mount.”

“Thank you, but no, I’ll walk.” With that, I turned my back on the captain and my duke.