The Union - Chapter 221 Advance

It was night when Ash left Mythrille. It was afternoon two days after when she arrived at Heraldshome. The city was still jubilant from the recent festival of a thousand songs. Hums could be heard from every corner of the city. Bards and amateur bards sang new songs. But the atmosphere was also filled with melancholic murmurs. Ash heard people talk about how King Harold was being held hostage in Mythrille. Ash questioned her ears at first. News of what happened arrived sooner than her. But she remembered that the Monarchs have other spies in Mythrille. The old woman whose house was just near the gate of the palace, that royal guard with a sharp chin, that person she saw one time- all of them were her fellow spies.

With the orange sun cast on the horizon, she rode her battered and exhausted horse towards the palace. People eyed her. She was still wearing the same dirty nightgown. The cloth had further gathered dust and dirt on her way here. Ash did find several small streams and sources of water but she didn’t dare dally to wash her clothes.

She shouldn’t care. Harold was her enemy. She bed him only to serve the Union. But after what he did, she felt indebted to him. Ash could only imagine Harold’s state at Mythrille. The citizens were probably clamoring for Harold’s death.

The guards at the palace were smart enough to recognize Ash despite her beggary appearance. The iron gate was opened to her. Messengers were sent to inform the monarchs and she was led by a maid inside to wash and to eat. As for the horse, the battered mare with white coat turned brown, she could only wish well. The animal had served her with grace.

Bathwater turning hazel as her skin regained its normal color, Ash changed into a new dress, one with sparkles on its cuffs and intricate waves on its collar. It matched her well, Ash decided in front of the mirror. She looked like a noble now.

The maid opened the door in a hurry. Popping her head on the gap, the maid informed her that Queen Lucia and the King are coming.

Ash prepared herself. She had practiced lines on her way here. She thought hard, honing here words. She thought of the flow of their conversation. Both the monarchs were famed to be clever. She would have a hard time convincing them. But she was prepared.

The first who entered was the King. His dark hair was combed neatly. His posture was fine- so fine. The way he walked and the way he presented himself were enough to make her want to kneel. And then the Queen followed, gracious, elegant and pure.

“You want us to march into Mythrille and save King Harold” King Timothy’s said “Alright. Lucky us, two more of my legions have arrived yesterday. Some Cantonese soldiers have also joined our ranks to defend King Harold. We will leave on the morrow”

Ash’s words were stuck on her throat. She made sounds- stutters probably. She was too confused to care. All her preparations, those lines she committed to memory- useless.

“How” Ash uttered the word.

The Queen stepped closer to her. The meeting of their eyes as their distance grew short was too much for Ash. The Queen put both hands on her shoulders.

“You have served us well” Queen Lucia’s smile served to make her more elegant “But I know how you feel. Kindness shouldn’t be repaid with betrayal”

“He did treat me well” Ash said, bobbing her head into slow nods “He is not cruel. He is gentle as a snow. He is…” Ash felt sourness on her eyes “He treated me well like what I said, gave me everything he could give. I am not changing my alliances nor am I ruing my decisions. My resolve stays firm. But he doesn’t deserve death”

“I know” The Queen’s voice was calming “We know”

Ash raised her look towards the King. “You will march towards Mythrille?”

“Fast paced, without rest” The King answered

“And not just to reward me I suppose?”

“Marching to Mythrille would be dangerous. The road is crooked with many opportunities for ambush. We would also be the ones attacking so we would have to exert more effort than the enemies. In short, we would be put into a disadvantage. I would have not risked that if the only reason is to reward you. You have served us well, as in the words of my beloved Queen. Although we are grateful, you are not the only reason for our decisions”

“Then you have something in mind, something big like what you did at Knightsend or in the Battle of the Plains”

The King smiled “Rest Ash. You have traveled long and you would travel again with us tomorrow. So rest” He said in a manner neither imposing nor weak “You have done most of your work. Leave the rest to us”

**********

Flags bathed in morning light fluttered in the air proudly. Six legions- Rooster, Steelsword, Dawn, Goldentooth, Roar, Tear- Timothy was bringing all of his legions to the west of Canton. Thirty thousand armored and experienced Castonians under the King of Castonia would be enough to shake the land itself.

Propped on top of his horse, a brown stallion with ears longer than most, Lucia eyed the preparations. She still wasn’t familiar with these things but she knew at least that the ones wearing full plate armors were the Centurions. The Centurions were organizing their men, some harshly while some had more mellow methods. The Prefects, also in full plates but with white capes, were organizing their Centurions. Lucia couldn’t see the Generals though. They were probably organizing their Prefects. But General Marvin was an exception. Marvin was behind them, third wheeling her lone time with her husband. Well Marvin was permitted to do so anyway. The old General was one of their closest friends and oldest allies. And it’s not like the Rooster legion needed organizing.

“You want to ask something General?” Lucia shredded the silence “Word reached us that you have slept late last night, just endlessly staring at the map until your candle melted. The word said that you looked worried. We apologize if this sounds like we are spying on you General. We trust you, we truly do. The spy was not for you but he was overzealous. He was concerned by your look last night. I hope you are not offended”

“My squire right?” Marvin sighed “So that’s why he vanishes every night. But I am not offended Your Majesty. Not at all”

“So” It was Timothy who talked “What were you thinking? I hope it’s not about our decision to go to the west and attack Mythrille. I do hope you didn’t spend all night staring at the map and trying to make sense of our decision” Timothy looked back. His grin was filled with mischief “I jest. Of course that’s the reason why the skin under you eyes are as swollen as festered wound”

“You guessed it right Tim. I cannot see the reason why we should be the ones attacking. Of course I remember that we were talking about attacking Mythrille many weeks ago but that was before Sarah Wismar joined the front line. We would win easily if we were fighting against any other commander. But Sarah Wismar and Falconheads?” Marvin shook his head “Even the Rooster would be put in peril. We would be marching into hostile territory. The citizens in the eastern part of Canton have been indoctrinated by the Wismarines for decades. Their culture leans more on the Wismarine rather than the Cantonese side. Even your great speeches couldn’t make them submit Tim. Our supplies would be exposed. Our soldiers would be tired. Our whole army would suffer from ambushes. Victory would come at a great price”

Timothy looked at her. A smirk was on his face “Should we tell him?”

Lucia shook her head “No. The wind have ears. The paved road has too. Let’s keep it a secret for now” She looked behind “I’m sorry General”

“Fine, fine, have it that way then. But you two have a plan right?”

“Yes” Lucia said “But it’s more like a script”

The six legions and a few thousand Cantonese began the march not long after. More than thirty thousand pair of boots, not to mention horse hooves, trudged outside the gate towards the east. The pace was fast and the beating of drums joined.

To her back, Lucia could see the city of Heraldshome, the capital of Canton. It was a good city, she thought. It was large and jolly. The music was good and the people were warm. When she turned her head back, she saw Timothy staring at her.

“A script?” Timothy chuckled

“Yes” Lucia joined him “What of it? Accurate, yes?”

“Well” Timothy said “You are not wrong. A script made by Sarah herself”