The Storm King

The way to Ironford was open, and the bridge completed. Knights streamed across it as quickly as they were able while maintaining enough discipline to secure the opposite bank. Those farther north broke out bows to provide those knights who continued to fight the 1st Legion with ranged support, as they had been doing before the bridge was finished. Those to the south, however, maintained the uneasy truce between themselves and the 2nd Legion, which had stopped at the shallow trench that had served to protect the retinue’s line.

Leon, Lapis, and the rest of the sixth-tier mages posted on the south side covered the retreat, never taking their eyes off the 2nd Legion. Meanwhile, the 1st Legion continued to press on the north, forcing the retreating knights back and not giving them a single moment for the first rank of knights to begin their own retreat.

It was a terrible bloody grind on the north side, while to the south it was almost serene.

Still, the knights on the north side did what they could and managed to use their superior average power and greater mobility to break away from the Legion shield walls and retreat to the bridge, while the retreat from the south was far more orderly.

“Ursus! Let’s go!” Minerva shouted as she ran past the remaining knights covering their backs. It had taken about ten minutes, but they and the few sixth-tier mages that were covering the retreat were the only knights remaining on the western side of the Naga River, and the shield walls of the 1st Legion were hot on their heels, not to mention the powerful mages that led those shield walls.

Leon nodded to ‘his’ people, and they sprinted after Minerva. Lapis went last, just in case the bridge was unable to take its weight, but it didn’t so much as shake as the stone giant crossed. On the eastern side, it became apparent why: the earth and water mages that had been building it had rushed its completion and were quite literally using their power to hold their unstable work together as the rest of the four-thousand-strong force crossed. As soon as Lapis reached the dirt on the eastern side, the mages released their magical hold on the bridge and the river around it. The eastern third of the bridge collapsed almost immediately as the river that the water mages had been diverting to more stable sections of the bridge crashed into it.

On one hand, the mages nearly collapsed from the exhaustion of holding the bridge together, but on the other hand, they no longer had to demolish the bridge themselves in order to keep the Legions from immediately following them.

Leon, Minerva, Roland, and the rest of the knights panted for breath and began getting the group organized to march east—they had taken a fair number of casualties, and someone had to carry the dead and wounded, after all. The 1st and 2nd Legions watched from the other side of the river, many in the former ineffectually firing arrows at the knights as they retreated. Leon didn’t pay much attention to them, though; his eyes were locked on Sertor, who had removed his helmet to watch the knights vanish into the darkness.

They’d fight again, he could feel it in his bones. More than that, he could feel it in his blood¸ and when they next clashed, he’d win. No other outcome would be acceptable. As it was, he hoped with everything he had that the Thunderbird hadn’t witnessed his inability to decisively defeat another lightning mage of similar power. His pride had already taken quite a hit from that disappointment of a duel, and Xaphan or the Thunderbird chiding him for barely pulling off a draw would be more than he could bear.

Even with his regrets and personal admonishments, Leon didn’t stay there for long. Valeria, Anzu—who were both mercifully uninjured—and Lapis stood at his back—the giant’s leg was still cracked, but Leon could swear he could see the cracks mending themselves at a rate that was just short of noticeable—and he had no intention of staying behind as the rest of the knights fell back to the east. There was no time to waste as it wouldn’t take longer than a few hours for the Legions to rebuild the eastern section of the bridge and cross, let alone the possibility of other Legion elements that may be closing in on them on the east side, as well.

The knights got underway. Minerva and August led the group from the front, taking them on the shortest route to Ironford that was available to such a large group. Roland had command of the center of the column where the dead and the wounded were being carried, while Leon had been given command of the rear, much to his surprise. But, surprise aside, he took the assignment seriously, marching at the very back of the column and keeping his magic senses projected for any sign of pursuit.

Fortunately, by the time the column stopped to make camp, no one had appeared behind them.

---

Three days of hard marching later, Ironford began to appear in the distance. The Eastern Territories were hilly and mountainous, making large-scale movement through them difficult. But the knights were relatively high-tiered, and they made good time, passing through many small towns and villages and reaching the outskirts of Ironford without even the slightest sign of pursuing Legions.

That didn’t mean they could relax and ignore their problems from safety, though. Roland stayed behind at a narrow rocky pass guarded by a castle built by a Count in the service of the Marquis of Ironford. If anyone wanted to pursue Minerva and August’s group, then they would have to not only defeat two thousand of Roland and Brimstone’s knights but also the five hundred warriors manning the castle, all in incredibly strong defensive positions. In fact, this pass acted as the primary gateway into the Eastern Territories from the Central Territories, so any Legions that might want to pursue them would have to either force their way through the pass or march hundreds of miles around to the more agreeable southern approaches.

Leon, August, Minerva, and the rest of Trajan’s retinue walked alone into the city. And a remarkable city it was, built in a tight valley carved by a fast-flowing river, with dozens of forges lit throughout the entire day. These forges were so numerous that they had a reputation for making the city so bright as to blot out the stars at night—though, since the retinue arrived just after midday, Leon wasn’t able to verify that reputation. He was looking forward to it, though, the stories he’d heard from his father of the Blasted Furnace’s foundries had been enough to excite his imagination, and he was hoping that it would live up to his expectations.

The retinue strode into the city, to the surprise of every citizen they passed by—they weren’t used to seeing so many armed and armored warriors in their city, and to some, it felt a bit like an invasion. Fortunately, no one did anything except stare and make way. Ironford had a large population and a dense urban center but getting through the apprehensive crowds was eased by a delegation sent by the Marquis of Ironford that met them outside the city. The Marquis himself waited for them at the gates of his palace near the center of the city and warmly greeting Minerva once she arrived.

“Dame Minerva! So wonderful to see you again!”

“Lord Titus Herrenia!” Minerva responded, a smile gracing her tired face as she stepped forward and grasped the Marquis’ wrist.

“It has truly been far too long since we last met, I wish it were under better circumstances,” the Marquis said, releasing her wrist as his lips turned in a deep frown at their current circumstances. He was a high enough ranked member of the nobility to have a seat in the Assembly, and if August’s trial hadn’t been so rigged, Marquis Herrenia would’ve attended; by the time he heard Octavius’ summons for the Assembly to come and gather in the capital, it was already too late for him to attend.

“I wish the same, but unfortunately, none of us can change the past,” Minerva responded with significantly less emotion than she truly felt.

“Lord Herrenia,” August said in a light greeting as he stepped forward, his expression one of mixed dismay at having been seemingly forgotten and overlooked mixed with his normally unflappable noble and polite demeanor.

“Your Highness! Ah, I must apologize,” Titus loudly declared. He made to speak further, but August interrupted.

“No, no, I understand, Dame Minerva is so remarkable that greeting her simply couldn’t wait!” August spoke with such sincerity that Minerva legitimately wondered if he was serious or not. However, flattering words were still flattering words, and she couldn’t help but allow her smile to grow a little bit in response.

“Indeed, she is,” Titus agreed. “Please, step inside, I’m sure you’re all tired from your rapid march! Truth be told, I wasn’t expecting any of you for a few days yet, I’d heard that you were going to be held up after leaving the capital!”

“We were,” Minerva said, quickly explaining the broad strokes of their journey eastward.

“Ah, well that explains it,” Titus said. “I knew you would move quickly, given the power of your followers, but I’d heard that the 4th Legion had been dispatched to intercept you if you had gone directly east.”

“We didn’t once encounter the 4th… Where did you hear this?” August asked.

“From Princess Stefania, Your Highness, she arrived here only a day ago!”

“Take me to her!” August immediately demanded as his face twisted in desperation, his excitement and travel fatigue easily overriding his Royal dignity.

“Of course, Your Highness, but perhaps it might be best if we allow your companions some rest, first?” the Marquis inquired.

“Um, yes. Yes, that would be for the best,” August replied, though his poorly-hid expression indicated that he wanted to see his family sooner rather than later.

The rest of the knights were led into the palace’s enormous primary courtyard. Lapis was given many a strange look as it followed them inside, but all it took was a hint of killing intent from Leon and a stern word from Minerva and no trouble was had, though Leon noticed a sharp increase in the number of guards around the palace, most of them keeping an eye on Lapis.

Given the trouble the Eastern Territories had with stone giants, Leon didn’t hold it against them, and he knew that Lapis didn’t much care about the situation.

Once everyone had entered the courtyard and the Marquis’ people began to arrange accommodations, the Marquis himself led Minerva, August, Leon, Valeria, and a few of the other more important knights into the palace to meet with Princess Stefania. Lapis was left in the courtyard, while Anzu was given his own richly appointed cell in the stables where he promptly curled and fell asleep.

The palace was a magnificent building, not so large as to be ostentatious, but not so small as to be embarrassing for a man of the Marquis’ station. It could comfortably house about fifty people in luxury, with room for a further five hundred in nearby barracks. The palace itself had been built of local gray granite rather than the white stone traditionally favored by the Bull Kingdom’s elite and had an almost stark and cold façade. It was three stories of plain grey brick, surrounded by a thick wall with numerous towers. In contrast, the grounds between the palace proper and its outer walls were filled with gardens of such beauty that they just about put the Royal Palace’s own landscaping to shame.

The inside, too, differed greatly from the outer façade, with floors of polished black granite and red carpeting, walls covered in so many red, orange, and gold mosaics that they resembled long sheets of warm, inviting colors. Alcoves and marble statues were everywhere, as were paintings, vases, ceremonial swords, and just about everything else that would make an art collector salivate.

August noticed none of this as the Marquis led him and the rest of the group toward a private wing of the palace. He was so stressed and worried about his family that he could barely even acknowledge the Marquis’ questions, and as they drew further into the palace, it only got worse. His worry even began to affect the others, and they walked in relative silence feeling like an enormous weight was pressing them into the floor.

They finally reached their destination about ten minutes after leaving the courtyard, though it had felt like about ten hours to those affected by August’s aura.

The Marquis had taken them to a particularly luxurious wing of the palace, and the doors he stopped at were especially so. They were heavy red oak, fixed with marble statuettes, and covered in gold trimmings. Titus loudly knocked on the door, then stood respectfully to the side to let August take the lead from there.

Almost immediately, the door opened a crack, and once the person on the other side saw who was standing there, the door was pulled open to reveal one of the knightess’ in Princess Cristina’s personal guard—in fact, Leon recognized her as one of the sixth-tier mages who had accompanied the Princess out of the harem, though she wasn’t Proxima, who had seemed to be in command of the unit.

“Your Highness!” she exclaimed in mild surprise. “Please come in… though your friends…”

“I understand… everyone but Dames Minerva and Valeria, and Sir Leon should wait outside,” August said.

Leon lifted an eyebrow in confusion. Of all the people, he wasn’t sure why he was singled out. Or rather, he figured it was so August could show him some favoritism, but it was a strange way to go about it. He knew that the children of the King weren’t usually allowed to be in the company of unrelated members of the opposite sex until they had been formally presented to the Royal court, so him going to meet the Princess under these conditions was questionably appropriate and technically illegal.

Ignoring Leon’s questioning look—as well as just about everyone else’s—August walked into the room, closely followed by Minerva. Valeria hesitated at the door, not wanting to disobey what had essentially been a command from a Prince to enter the room, but not wanting to leave Leon behind, who was her direct superior. With a reluctant sigh, Leon followed August, and he was followed by a smiling Valeria in turn.

Following Minerva and August into the next hall and into another room, a young feminine voice cried out, “Val!” and what seemed to Leon to be a black-colored blur nearly tackled her to the ground.

The blur turned out to be Cristina’s hair, and the Princess buried herself in Valeria’s arms, babbling incoherently. Leon was able to piece out a word here and there and managed to work out that Cristina had been terrified that Valeria would be killed or injured after they had separated on Stefania’s yacht. He was mildly interested to note that Cristina had run right past her own brother to throw herself at Valeria, and August stared in shock, his arms that had been spread open to embrace his younger sister now dejectedly falling back to his sides.

“Sir Leon,” came a smooth, sultry voice that sent shivers down Leon’s spine and distracted him from the young Princess and his knight.

He turned and locked eyes with Princess Stefania. She stared deep into his eyes, her own deep dark brown eyes holding promises of bliss and ecstasies that he could never imagine; averting his gaze on his own was nearly impossible, but a single thought of Elise was enough for him to do so—as well as a tiny spark of silver-blue lightning flashing in his chest.

“Ahh,” Stefania said as Leon’s eyes fell from hers, “I think I’m starting to get why Lady Elise likes you so much…”

As if some spell had been lifted, her seductive air vanished, leaving her just the same beautiful Princess she was the last time she and Leon had spoken.

“… What…?” Leon awkwardly asked.

“Oh, nothing,” the older Princess responded. “It’s just that we’ve never had much of a conversation before, so I wanted to know what kind of a man you were. I heard you were entertaining another woman at your home for a while, so I needed to be sure Lady Elise was placing her trust in a man worthy of it.”

“Ah,” Leon simply replied, saying no more. He had nothing to prove to Stefania, and he certainly wasn’t that appreciative of whatever it was that she had just done.

“By the way… sister?” Stefania said, getting Cristina’s attention from practically sobbing into the front of Valeria’s clothes.

Cristina looked up, tears falling from her eyes as freely as rain, and when she saw Leon, she made a sound that seemed both squeak and hiccup and hurriedly brushed the tears out of her eyes.

“Sir Leon…” she nervously whispered, all boldness and adrenaline from her flight from the Royal Harem long gone, “I… was… thank you…”

Leon blinked at her in surprise and confusion. “Uh… Your welcome, Your Highness, though I’m not sure why I’m being thanked…”

“I was remiss in my duties as a member of the Royal Family, Sir Leon,” Cristina replied, straightening herself up to be as imposing as she could, which was actually quite a bit, despite being a rather slight and slender young woman. She stood and spoke with the confidence that Leon never would’ve expected from someone who had spent their entire childhood isolated from her peers. “You helped me to escape from my gilded cage and bring me out into the world. No mere words could ever express my gratitude. However, when last we spoke, I did not make my gratitude clear, and for that, I apologize.”

“Right… um… it’s fine…” Leon was completely put off guard with Cristina’s extreme formality and being put on the spot; it felt like everyone in the room was trying to bore holes into him with their eyes—he was the only one there who ‘didn’t belong’, after all—and he couldn’t stand it. He just wanted everyone to look away so he could fade back into the background where he was most comfortable. “I was just there, I didn’t really do anything that warrants gratitude…”

“You have it anyway,” Cristina replied before taking a deep, steadying breath and looking to her big sister. Stefania gave her a quick smile of pride, and Cristina seemed to deflate as if all of that had taken all the energy she possessed. However, she then turned back to Valeria and said, “Come on, let’s go find Asiya!”

Valeria looked at Leon with eyes so bright that he couldn’t possibly say no even if he wanted to, so he quickly nodded, and the two young women quickly vanished through another doorway.

“Well, that was certainly something,” August said, a little miffed at being almost completely ignored again, and by his own sister, no less.

A voice from one of the room’s side doors answered him, “She’s young and excited, it’s the first time she’s been out of the capital. Can you blame her for wanting to spend time with her friends?”

Leon looked around for who was speaking and saw Isabelle standing in another doorway, staring at her son with tender, matronly love.

August’s head whipped around, and when he saw her, all he could say was a quiet, “Mother…”

No more words were said between the two. August just crossed the room and pulled his mother into a tight hug. Isabelle maintained her composure in front of the guards, Minerva, Stefania, and Leon, but August was unable to; the sounds of his quiet sobbing could be heard by everyone in the room, though no one seemed to care. It was the first time he’d seen his mother in years, and with all the emotional turmoil he’d been in for the past few weeks, any semblance of a noble demeanor he possessed just crumbled away.