Book 7, Chapter 28: Serce

My eyes were tired. Arms, legs, stomach, sore. The plentiful pillows the three young ladies were sitting on, their tea and cakes, smelling of hot butter and sugar, nearby and untouched, were so inviting, I was tempted to sit down and overindulge.

But the world waited for no one.

Nighttime. But brightly lit. I was surrounded by lanterns, candles, and fires in the dead Emperor Bracken’s tent. My tent now, I suppose. With a thumb and forefinger, I rubbed my eyes near the bridge of my nose.

“Your Highness?” said Pashin, walking across to me from the exit, leaving Fada there. “I mean Divine Highness. Are you alright?”

I opened my eyes to the waiting general. We were about to ride to greet the attacking army, but I needed a moment. “Fine, I’m fine. It’s been a long, long day. And I don’t see any rest for us anytime soon.”

“The rigors of rulership. I’d say you’ve accomplished a great deal already. You’ve managed to capture our army it appears. All you have now is to direct your army in the field to back down.”

“Two armies. Or was that yesterday? I defeated your other one last night. Oh, wait, that makes it three armies I’ve captured in the past couple days, if you count Laemacia. That’s probably a record. Maybe, maybe three days? I’ve lost track of time.”

His mouth slowly dropped. “Ma’am? You conquered Laemacia this week? Where is, ah, your army?”

I raised my arms, “All around you. Let’s get going before I fall asleep. You!” I pointed at a woman, “Please have tea or coffee ready when we return. Wait, sorry, could you just bring some now, if you don’t mind?”

“Ma’am!” She quickly stood, leaving the other two women to continue holding each other, staring at me in horror, and bent over a low table, soon bringing a small and steaming, handleless cup sitting dead center on a black and gold lacquered round tray. “It’s jasmine flower tea.”

“With caffeine?”

She blinked at me. “I’m afraid I don’t know what flower or leaf that is, Your Highness.”

“Right. Sorry. Thank you.” It was indeed flowery, tasting of new honey and nectar. I pretended it had caffeine and it quenched my thirst. Then I had a change of plans. It’d be tough meeting Serce alone. Even with just this general and the boy prince. “Wait. Pashin, I need you to send messengers to the Laemacian army meeting yours right now! One of my Laemacian generals will be there. Have him bring a contingent of soldiers to the new front lines.”

He backed up, hands in the air, “You want me to have Laemacian troops escorted through our army?”

“You just admitted it’s my army now.”

“Yes, but . . . yes, ma’am.” He stared at the floor, unmoving.

Even I could tell what he was thinking. Lead my regiment with my generals into the middle of his army, kill or capture us. “Pashin, don’t. Just don’t. This,” I pointed at the bodies, “is just a fraction of what I can do. If you care for your men, if you value your career, just don’t betray me here.” I walked close to him and squeezed his arm, getting his eyes to focus on mine, “Hey, hey! You know what I did with your soldiers? From your other army?”

He shrank, shoulders curling in, hands above his waist and half-closed, “Have them executed, ma’am?”

“Not at all. I promised them land. Land! So they can raise families! I don’t know just quite what is wrong with all your goddamn royalty, but I am going to force peace on these nations if I have to take every last hamlet! Now, get my men! I’ll be trying to stop this next battle. And you’d better hope,” I brushed off pretend lint on each of his shoulders, then tapped his chest, “that I take just one more army today.”

Wide eyes, he bowed from the head, “Your will!” and hurriedly left.

Yet I didn’t have a clue how to stop Serce. I had imagined him entering the city, jubilant he’d made it, now isolated from his army and have him arrested by my soldiers. At least, I hoped they’d arrest him. I was relying on a lot of trust here, but these men did see me fight for them, for their city.

But now I’d be riding out to greet Serce and his army. They would not arrest him. For the most part, his generals expected us to be wed. They’d scoff. I’d get angry, and then it would go badly. No, no, I needed to find some way to thread this needle.

I handed the cup back to the woman, “Here, thank you,” and didn’t listen to her honorifics or honestly notice what she did after. I just stood there, thinking, worrying.

Serce’s army marching to engage this one in another senseless battle but hopefully pausing to accept our surrender. I had to go to the front to make this all go smoothly and I’d just sent out all my new generals. Whoops. In my defense, they were on important tasks. But in the meantime, no one else in this army knew who I was, or even knew they’d surrendered to me.

“Ma’am?” I’d scarcely noticed the young prince Fada. He was standing almost on the edge of the tents. His right arm was behind his back. Fada bowed, “May I present you with something?” Despite his manly body, muscles and size, he walked over to me like a very timid teenage boy.

Well, he’d firsthand witnessed who I was. I hoped the soldiers knew him. “Yes?”

Standing before me, he held his left hand behind his back. “My lady, I bring you,” he swept his right hand out as he bowed, left hand against his stomach, and then up to me, “the deceased Emperor Bracken’s crown.”

“Huh.” I took it from him, “Thank you. This may help matters.”

He straightened up, giving me a welcome smile, “And I appreciate you threatening the prince to spare my life. That was very noble of you.”

“Threatening?”

“He and I,” Fada slashed his right hand down to the right, “aren’t on the best of terms.”

“Sorry to hear that. Let’s get going.” As the great Kurt Vonnegut said, ‘You are who you pretend to be.’ Bracken’s crown in my grasp, I strode out of those tents like I owned the place, pointed at some spearmen guards, “All of you! Come with me,” then headed for the new front.

***

Bracken’s army were in formation beyond our tents but outnumbered by around double. Rows of phalanx in the center, skirmishers and archers to the sides, no peltasts in sight, cavalry on each flank and directly behind the main phalanx.

They faced much larger Laemacian phalanx formations, the second row of which was marching to the sides of Bracken’s phalanx further out. On my right were the war rhinos, skirmishers and archers organized around them. The heavy beasts stamped their feet and bellowed, swinging their deadly horns from side to side, no patience for their human handlers.

Between the two armies, flag bearers waved giant white and yellow flags, men were shouting and shouting at the incoming formations. At various points along both lines, men carried torches and lanterns, illuminating the immediate area.

The Laemacian formations stopped, pointed and jeered. A few turned around to pull up their mail skirts and moon Bracken’s army, my new army.

I stared at them, not knowing what to do. These were, technically, my men. On both sides. Stopping this battle required more than just me rushing in and slaughtering soldiers until they gave up.

At the back of the first Laemacian phalanx, near two torchbearers, a person waved two red and black flags in what were likely simple patterns and a nearby trumpeter blew a horn rapidly twice, pause, long trumpet, repeating the sequence. They were signaling something and I hoped it was the news of our surrender.

Armies like this did not fight at night. I did with the city defense, that was true, and we used the darkness and streets and alleyways to our advantage, and again to sneak up on their remnants. Yet it was almost never done in history, as logistics were just too difficult. Alexander didn’t. The Romans didn’t, believing that war should be practiced openly for all to see. When night attacks were carried out, they were often used to inflict psychological harm, not decisive victories, not with full formation marching on each other.

Yet Serce had commanded the attack. He had to believe he was outflanking Bracken’s army, to pound them using the city as his anvil. And he was willing to accept increased losses.

I didn’t know his thoughts. But I had to act. Leaving my escort behind and taking a torch from a surprised someone, I walked toward those waving the giant surrender flags, passed them, and continued until I stood in front of the Laemacian phalanx. Rows and rows of men holding spears, shields, short swords at their hips. Many of them had burn scars on their faces and heads.

I raised my voice, “Many of you know who I am!”

One man stepped forward, “Boy, go back to your momma!” and they laughed and laughed, with some spitting as far as they could, and others pointing at their crotch, saying lewd comments.

Slowly, I moved my hand up to the chainmail coif and pulled it back, my dark hair spilling out. I held the torch in front of me, the light flickering off my face, and walked across their front ranks until I stood directly in front of their centerline. “I killed Otholos!” I pointed at a man who’s forehead looked like someone had held a hot frying pan against it, “You were there! And you, you were there. You were, too. You saw!”

One of the men squinted, trying to make me out. It was difficult to see with the torchlight flickering across half my face, the other side in darkness. Another walked forward.

The brave man yelled out, “You weren’t! You weren’t at the battle!”

I walked right up to him, pushing the torch into his chest and he dropped his spear to grab it before the flames took his hair. Raising my fist as if holding a man up, I shouted, “I burned Otholos alive! You!” I pointed at a nearby scarred person, “You were there.”

“Oh!” he cried out, dropping into a prone position, hands forward, helmet tumbling away. “Please! Please don’t!”

His fellows looked at him, some at me. I couldn’t quite see their shock, but the scarred men followed his lead, dropping into obeisance. At least one man threw off his helmet and dropped his weapon, belt included, before turning and fleeing.

I walked before them, passing man after man, spear after spear, and yelled out, “I am your rightful empress! Otholos was a usurper! And now he’s dead by my will!” I stopped, pointing at the city, “I took the city!” Waving my hand across Bracken’s troops, I shouted, “I took this enemy army!” Pointing at myself, “And I am your empress!”

A non-scarred man stepped forward, “I don’t recognize you.” He gestured with his spear to the men behind him, “We follow Emperor Searcian! And your army has surrendered!”

“Yes,” I shouted, “I brought you in close. I wanted you nearby!”

A bigger man, angry, he stepped forward but one of his fellows took his arm, holding him back, shaking his head and saying something I couldn’t hear. The big man resumed his place in the formation looking anywhere else but me.

The phalanx formations beyond this one could not hear what we were saying, but they didn’t advance, and the jeering quieted down as they turned to watch. Once they saw who had prostrated themselves, more of the men who were at that devastating battle sank to their knees across the entire phalanx, more broke ranks and fled the field, leaving their metal behind.

I shouted as loudly as I could, and somehow it carried far, “Rise! Stand up! I will not burn you!” I gestured at the reluctant ones, “Stand! Stand.” And they did, so I continued, “For you are my soldiers and I am your empress!” I held the heavy golden circle as high as I could, shaking it, “I killed Bracken and took his crown! I took his army. For you! You do not have to fight tonight!”

The scarred ones began clapping in my pause, slow at first, each men looking to his fellows before joining in. And it caught on, a few men cheered, other soldiers must have thought others were clapping for a reason, and soon the entire infantry were.

Off to my right, riding through the formations, were nine men on horseback. A flagbearer with Serce’s emblem, the young auburn-haired general who smiled at me, the general with the black goatee, and soldiers who were probably special guardsmen.

Holding the crown up again for one more cheers, I said under my breath, “And now it’s time to take this one.” I walked over to the prince I’d left behind, and a bunch of guards, to where the general entourage was headed.

Seeing me, the young general looked sideways, swinging his horse around, “Empress Cayce?” He looked puzzled, “Aren’t you supposed to be in the, uhm, palace?”

I stared at him for what was probably too long, trying to remember his name, and it finally came to me. “General Arsaces, I’m surprised you recognize me in armor.”

Jumping down from the warhorse, he bowed, “My lady does herself too little credit, for yours is a face of endless beauty.”

I blinked and blinked, “Uhm. Right. I, uh, I need to see Serce. Where is he?”

“He remains beyond the army, leading. Shall I take you to him?” His gaze traveled up and down my body, before his eyes widening, “Empress, were you in the hospital? Taking care of the injured?”

“No and no, with a bit of yes, honestly. I was in the hospital, helping out. Huh,” I tilted my head, wondering when that even was. It seemed months ago, but months ago I was bathing with Brin and laughing.

“And why do you carry swords?” He leaned in, “And why two swords?”

“No more questions. I need you to bring Serce here. I lifted up the crown, “This is Bracken’s crown. I am now in charge of Bracken’s army, and I want Serce to stand down. Both armies are welcome in the city and we are all having one hell of a party after this.”

“Ma’am?”

I spoke more slowly, enunciating as clearly as possible, “I took Bracken’s army. Therefore, Serce has to come here. If I leave the field, fighting will break out and that is going to make for one very, very perturbed young lady.”

He bowed slightly, “Ma’am, I shall go, but I ask how you accomplished this remarkable feat?”

“First, I killed a ton of people. Then, I killed a lot more people. After that, I really, really got into the killing, and personally killed way more people than, I don’t know, your entire army’s last engagement. And this is a Cayce you do not want to see tonight, trust me on this. Now, go get Prince Serce.”

He stood there, staring at me but wholly unfocused, eventually bowing formally, hands by his side, saying, “As My Lady wishes.” After about-facing, he mounted and rode off at a gallop.

I let out a breath I was holding in and tried, just tried, not to let my posture drop. This was all a performance, and I dared not show weakness. But it was crazy! What would I do if Serce wouldn’t surrender and ordered a battle?

Yeah, exactly what I did with these armies. Take out their leaders, show extreme and overwhelming violence, until they surrender. But maybe, just maybe I could get them to hold off. None of them believed me, but I guess that made sense. Why would anyone look at a teenage girl and think, “Yeah, let’s have her run the empire.”

When I reached Prince Fada, my Bracken bodyguards and the remaining Laemacian envoy, the other Laemacian general stepped forward, “Empress Cayce, never mind that you should not be here, whatever did you tell General Arsaces that he went riding off in such a hurry? And,” he looked at Bracken’s army, “if they’ve surrendered, why are they reinforcing their formations?”

Along the front, the Bracken army was not standing down, and their formations grew as those who would have attacked the city rejoined them. The men were closing up ranks, with their last line facing the city itself to keep an eye out. Their full army matched Serce’s in size and if fighting broke out, this would be a real mess that I had no idea how to solve.

“They’re worried you’ll order an attack.” And, I thought to myself, none of them knew I was now their empress. This was fun. Might as well answer his question for him, “I ordered the surrender.”

His head snapped in my direction, “You?!”

I nodded and looked at the young prince, “Prince Fada, where are my generals? And the other prince?”

Fada looked left along the field, toward the city. “They’ve not yet come, ma’am.”

“Your Highness,” began the general angrily, “I demand to know what is going on!”

Facing him, “I’m stopping this battle.”

“How by gods can you stop this battle?”

Behind the man, Prince Serce and his – really, my – generals raced toward us, soon arriving just behind our impromptu parley.

Dressed in tightly woven chainmail, with golden lines running along the armor, and sporting a golden helmet with large dark red eyes, Serce dismounted. A curved blade on his hip, gilded dagger on the other, he pulled his helmet off, strapping it to his saddle, then faced me, “Ah, my dear Princess Cayce. You have no idea how shocked I was when General Arsaces brought me the news that you were here, on the battlefield, between these two armies. Wearing armor no less! Truly,” he bowed, “the greatest of shocks and the gladdest.”

I nodded, “Prince Serce. Please surrender your false title and give yourself up to my custody.”

“What?”

“I’m the rightful heir, Serce. You are nothing more than usurper’s brother. The city is mine. Bracken’s army is mine. That army,” I pointed beyond his right shoulder, to the men facing off against Bracken’s, no small number of them watching us, “is my goddamned army.”

General Arsaces backed up in shock as if I’d struck him. The other general who’d ridden down here simply stared at me, as did another, slowly raising an hand to a hip, with the remaining two staring at Serce.

Serce smiled, “And it will be!” He walked over, apparently as happy as could be, taking my arm in his hand, “As soon as we are wed, all this will be yours, too. The empire! Ours to rule over.”

I pulled out of his grasp. But I didn’t throw him onto the ground in any of the number of ways I easily could, and kill him, and declare myself ruler. And I seriously, seriously wondered why not. Yet I didn’t know how the generals would go, and they would be the deciding factor between me killing just one man, and me killing many. Far, far too many.

“The generals know it, Serce. Look!” I said, “Look at their hesitation! And look at me,” I ran my hands up and down my filthy, blood-soaked body, “what do you think I’ve been doing all day?”

“We were to be married. And I promised to take no other women. No concubines.”

“Only in your mind, Serce.”

“Empress!” cried out Fada, full of relief. “They’re coming!”

Sure enough, horses rode toward us. Two groups, one coming from the encampment and the other from the city. They did not merge and warily moved away from each other, arriving separately.

Mazdak’s group reached us first, along with the former Bracken general I’d sent. Jumping off the horse and landing on the ground bent-kneed, he immediately closed the space between us, head bowing, “Your Divine Majesty, we have accepted their surrender. How do you wish to . . .” his eyes focused just behind me, “proceed?”

“Divine majesty?” Serce shook his head, “General Mazdak, just what is going on here?”

Mazdak joined my side, crossed his arms and said, “God-Empress Cayce is the right and true ruler of Laemacia. You are not among her family.” He stepped forward, hand on his sword, “And your brother was a usurper.”

I quickly touched Mazdak’s arm, slight shake of my head.

Serce’s five generals immediately started talking amongst themselves, each trying to get their point across, some making X’s with their arms, different men pointing at me, pointing at Serce.

The auburn-haired general stepped out from the arguing men, saying, “Mazdak. What moved you so to give your fealty to this young woman?”

Sasan, standing behind Mazdak, radiated worry and stood very still, eyes intensely focused on Serce.

Mazdak raised his fist and stepped left, away from me, “Empress Cayce is no mere woman. She well and truly earned the ‘divine’ in the title. She single handedly defeated an entire regiment of skirmishers, led our city against an army twice our size and crushed them. She offered our troops land. Land! When has a ruler,” he looked over at Serce, “when has even a false ruler done that?” He raised his fist up, “She has my sword!”

“Emperor Searcian,” asked one of his generals,” when are you and, ah, Empress Cayce to be married?”

“On the morrow.” Serce faced me, but spoke to the generals behind me, “Now, where is this Bracken so that I might take his surrender?”

I looked over at my new Bracken generals, “Bring Prince Kirken forward.”

Their taller general took the prince by the arm, pushing him forward. Kirken stumbled at first, finally finding his stride and shook off the older man.

I felt like I was guiding two kindergarten kids who were fighting at recess. “Tell Serce here who you surrendered to.”

“Prince Serce,” he bowed, “I formally surrendered to, ah, God-Empress Cayce.”

I was beginning to regret adding ‘god’ to my title. I cringed every single time. Yuck! Raising my right hand, I lifted my prize. “I killed Emperor Bracken and took his crown. Prince Kirken here then surrendered to me. Serce, I am the Empress.” I stepped right up to him, placing my hand on his chest, speaking softly, “I wish you listened to me before. I was never going to marry you, Serce. But I wish you’d listened to me.”

He touched my elbows, “I will be good to you. You can even . . . brew some of that nasty alcohol you like so much.”

I walked away, putting some distance between us. “General Mazdak, have our men take the usurper into custody.”

“Men, take him!”

Serce whipped out his sword and dagger, backing up.

Two of his generals moved out of the way, his guards ran in between them to stand in front of our men. Nine on his side, more than double on ours.

Arsaces looked at Serce, looked at me, and walked over to Mazdak. Drawing his sword, pointing it at the sky, he said, “I stand for Empress Cayce, the rightful ruler of Laemacia!”

Serce pointed his sword in the general’s direction, dagger at the advancing men, backing up.

Matching his pace, not far from him, I shouted, “Serce! If you want Bracken’s empire, if you want Laemacia, take Bracken’s crown from me! Here!” I threw it into the ground. It bounced, kicked up mud, and came to rest.

“I won’t fight you, Princess Cayce! Rather, we should be wed. You men, stand down! Would you have a girl leading you?”

“If you won’t fight,” I drew my sword and walked toward him, “then get on your knees and bow your head.”

Extending his dagger toward me, Serce yelled, “Get that crown! The man who gets that crown for me will be gifted a kingdom!”

After a pause, his men raced toward me, my new spearmen rushing straight at them, colliding well away, with only one man racing on, drawing his sword, swinging.

I stepped left, my blade running along his jugular, and continued walking toward Serce. “That was cowardly.”

He put his sword between us, dagger back and at the ready.

Knees slightly bent, right foot forward, I said with sorrow, “Good bye, Serce. I’ll find you in the afterlife later.”

Looking puzzled, Serce said, “What? Cayce, this is unbecoming.”

Left sword up to guard my side and stepping forward, I brought my right blade into his, pushing it down and away and I continued past him, severing his neck quickly and cleanly. I remained in that pose still as a statue, left sword up, right down and away and dripping blood, his head spinning splatters of blood bright red in the torchlight before landing in the mud.

Blood pumping out of his neck, his arms twitched, suddenly swinging his weapons. His body stepped forward once, then collapsed into a trembling mess. After lifting my sword up, I whipped it downward right, sending drops away, pause, sheathe it, then the other, before walking over to the crown.

The soldiers’ fighting had stopped, they were all watching us, excepting the few on the ground who were holding their wounds.

All eyes on me, I picked the crown up and headed straight for Prince Kirken, pushing the heavy gold circle into his stomach. “Here. Crown me.” And I felt a little dumb, since I made him change out of his regal clothes into those of a major. Whoops. Hopefully, his field officers recognized the boy.

His face pale as a ghost, he just stared at me.

“You heard me.”

“Yes, yes I apologize.” He bowed his head, “Your Majesty. Please,” he gestured at the ground, “kneel and take an oath.”

“Gods do not kneel. You kneel and offer your crown and empire up to me.”

As white as could be in the firelight, glancing all over the place, the prince went down on two knees, holding the crown up.

“Go on,” I said.

“God . . . God-Empress Cayce, do you, uh . . .”

“Yes, I accept your surrender. I accept all your lands to my care, your people under my protection, and your military into my empire.” I took the crown from him, placing it under my arm – it was way too big for my head and placing it there would be nothing but comical – and said to him, “Young Prince Kirken, do you accept becoming my vassal? Do you accept honoring and obeying and spreading my laws? Do you swear your life to me and accept kingship over your former empire, to rule in my stead, as I command, and ever in fealty to me?”

“Kingship?”

“You will be my representative.”

He leaned forward, grabbing my belt, shaking his head up and down fervently, “I swear it! I swear it to all who can hear!”

“Then,” I paused wondering what the hell to do. This was normally the place I had them kiss my sword, “kiss my new crown.” He did, “Rise, King Kirken, my vassal.”

His smiled disappeared as quickly as he had one, and he rose.

I turned my attention to the waiting men, “You heard the vows! Witnessed the exchange. We are all, all of us here, one people now! You generals serve at my command. If any of you disagree with this state of affairs, I’ll accept your demotion now.” Saying nothing, I looked at the men. Only Sasan and Mazdak of the city. Arsaces and the older general. The three I wasn’t familiar with, two of whom fought to protect Serce and whom at I stared the longest, and the Bracken generals, the prince and now king. None spoke.

“Well then, gentlemen,” I waved at the formations, “lower the tension. Have your troops stand down. General Arsaces, bring your camp forward! Sasan, get cooking fires started between this army and the city, and bring plenty of meat. We feast and celebrate tonight! For we are no longer at war!

“After the men break formation and you get them ready, gentlemen, find me at the Bracken command tents.” I stopped, walking slowly back and forth, then turning to the generals, “I have information I must share with you. The reasons why we must begin a new campaign as soon as we can organize. And, no,” I put my hand on the new young king, “it is not one of conquest. Now, get these men off this battlefield!”

A chorus of honorifics and most of the men left. Arsaces got on his horse and rode over to the infantry. Another general went to the cavalry, the rhinos, skirmishers and archers, and soon the Laemacian army broke formation and began marching back to their baggage train. Over and over, I saw men patting each other on the backs, laughing and talking.

None of them were dying tonight.

Mazdak approached, “I must say, my lady empress, that was impressive. You somehow-”

“Thank you, Mazdak,” holding my hand up, “I’m just glad we succeeded. This has been, god, a long time coming. I didn’t think, well I didn’t know, I guess, that I could get here. I tried to play by the rules, you know. When I first became princess. I had to learn them first, which was just a lot of work. Playing by the rules didn’t turn out well.”

“No ma’am, I cannot imagine it did. I’m not sure rules apply to you.”

“Some do, that’s for sure. Like the laws of physics. Come,” I started walking back to the command tents.

He followed at my side, “The laws of physics? Is this about medicine?”

“Ha! No, but I guess the words are similar. Physics, like gravity and time. The fundamentals of existence. And anyways, I’m going to do my damndest to break them pretty soon.”

“I’m sure you will succeed. My lady, may I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“How is the Bracken beer? Passable or worse than Laemacian ale?”

“They brew beer? Like, lagers and pilsners?”

“I’m not sure what those are, but we can certainly ask our hosts.”

“We definitely should have some ale at the command tents. I mean, we are going to host a massive feast for the soldiers. And,” I clapped him on the back, “we damn well earned a rest.”

From behind, Sasan said, “I’ll make the arrangements personally, ma’am. It will be my pleasure.”