IV
Main Command of the First Allied Legion
The chill in the air mounted with every passing day. The old general looked up at the gray skies of early winter and muttered something to himself. Though he took exacting care of his brown armor, these days its age showed, making him all too aware of all the years that had passed him by. So too was his face deeply etched with wrinkles.
Fifty years I’ve been riding to and from the battlefield...
“Does something trouble you, my lord?” At this question from Major General Neinhardt Blanche, appointed as chief of staff for this campaign, Field Marshal Cornelius vim Gruening waved the younger man away.
“Looking upon the birds soaring freely across the heavens tends to make one all the more aware of our human bonds. Just now I was asking the gods that if I am to be born again, they might make me a bird.” He smiled as he spoke, but Neinhardt looked back at him with concern. This is the trouble with being old, he chided himself silently, then beckoned Neinhardt to his side.
“I seem to recall you are twenty-seven years old, my boy.”
“The honor you do me by remembering such a detail is more than I deserve, Lord Marshal. Only I’m not sure what...” Neinhardt looked uneasy. Ignoring this, Cornelius plowed ahead.
“When I was twenty-seven, I already had a wife and a child. Don’t you think you might be falling a little behind?”
“I think I have an inkling of what you’re trying to tell me now,” Neinhardt said at length, a pained look on his face. “But if I may be so bold, ser, I think such things are to each his own. And anyway, I’m not really sure now is an appropriate time for this conversation.”
Behind Cornelius stood three members of the Ten Swords, along with the rest of his personal guard. Taking the hint from their lord, they made a show of indifference.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” Cornelius replied. “Now is precisely the time. Now, is there anyone you care for?”
Neinhardt was silent for a spell, the uneasiness on his face growing more pronounced. “I don’t think so,” he said at last, sounding evasive. Cornelius could only shake his head.
“‘Think’? What do you mean, ‘think’? Aren’t we talking about you, my boy?”
“I’m sorry, ser, it’s just...I’ve never given the subject much thought...” Neinhardt trailed off, scratching his head.
Cornelius sighed heavily. “As I live and breathe...” he said. “See here, obviously it’s a fine thing to make your way in life by the sword. But there are more important things.”
Neinhardt looked at him questioningly. “And what might those be, ser?”
“To join in union with the person you love and together raise and protect the children of the next generation! As such,” he went on, “I, here and now, shall decide a companion for you. You have no complaints, I trust?”
“My companion? Excuse me? Excuse me?!” Leaving Neinhardt to his incoherent exclamations, Cornelius summoned an attendant then whispered in their ear. Nodding smartly, the attendant ran from the tent. They did not have to wait long.
“Captain Katerina Reinas reporting, Lord Marshal!” Katerina barked, saluting. Cornelius called her over to stand beside him, the same as Neinhardt, who was looking at him suspiciously. Cornelius grinned at him, then laid a hand on Katerina’s shoulder.
“Listen well, Neinhardt. This young lady is to be your companion. She is a brilliant mind, and a beauty to boot. Far too good a bride for the likes of you, my boy.”
Neinhardt and Katerina both stood stock-still as though paralyzed. Then, jerking like rusted gears, they turned to look at one another.
“Captain Katerina...? My...wife...?”
“L-L-Lord Marshal! Wh-What is the meaning of this?! Lord Marshal! Me? His companion?! The major general! His face! My face! Why?!”
The words pouring out of Katerina’s mouth now made even less sense that Neinhardt’s. Her eyes moved around wildly, and she stepped nervously from side to side in a state of such obvious dismay that Cornelius felt sorry for her. There was clearly no need to ask her again about her feelings for Neinhardt.
“Major General Neinhardt, you have all the sensitivity of a rock, but after seeing the captain’s reaction, even you must be able to put two and two together.”
“Lord Marshal!” Katerina wailed. Even then, her voice was sweet as honey, a jarring contrast to the battlefield around them. Her eyes bored into Neinhardt, who scratched his head once more.
“Does the captain not satisfy you?” Cornelius stroked his luxuriant beard, his eyes crinkling.
Neinhardt, seeing the anxiety blossoming in Katerina’s eyes, said quickly, “As my aide, Captain Katerina is beyond reproach.”
“You don’t need to tell me that,” Cornelius said impatiently. “I’m asking what you think of her as a companion. Look here. You’ve put your foot in your mouth and upset her.”
Seeing the devastation writ large on Katerina’s face, Neinhardt panicked. “O-Obviously I also think she’s a very attractive woman.”
Cornelius nodded. “We have that on the record. There you are, Captain Katerina.”
“Lord Marshal...”
“All right, that concludes our business with the captain. You are free to go.”
“I...yes...by your leave, Lord Marshal.” There was a sensuous note to Katerina’s salute. She flashed a shy smile at the bewildered Neinhardt, then, covering her burning cheeks with her hands, she fled the tent.
Neinhardt looked back to Cornelius, a note of reproach in his eyes. “This is going to make things difficult for me as commander.”
“You discredit the role of chief of staff if a little thing like that can rattle you. Now, are you man enough to stick it out or not?”
“I don’t know if I’m ‘man enough,’” Neinhardt said at length, “but I will.”
Cornelius gave a firm nod of approval, and with that, Neinhardt strode from the tent. As Cornelius watched him go with a weary smile, one of the Ten Swords, Major General Solid Jung, came up to him, wearing a similar expression.
“I thank you on behalf of my nephew, ser,” he said. “He never showed a lick of interest in any of the promising matches that came his way. Had his parents at their wits’ end.”
“Ah yes, I’d forgotten he was your nephew. An old man oughtn’t to meddle in such matters, really, but one can’t always help it, you know...” He waved off Solid as the man repeated his thanks, then turned the conversation to Solid’s daughter, who resembled him so strongly.
“You must worry after that daughter of yours too. If you’re to have her carry on the Jung family name, you will need to find her a worthy match. From what I’ve seen, in temperament, she and Neinhardt are birds of a feather.”
“That you concern yourself not only for my nephew but for Claudia too does me much honor, Lord Marshal,” Solid replied. “But the truth is, ser, I’m not too worried about her.”
“Oho? There’s someone then, is there? Then I shall refrain from sticking my nose where it isn’t wanted.”
“Well, nothing is certain...” Not long before the commencement of Twin Lions at Dawn, Solid explained, his daughter had returned home with a glow about her he had never seen before. “You know she’s not the most graceful girl,” he went on. “My wife was wholeheartedly delighted, but she also told me she’s sure that Claudia isn’t aware of her own feelings. And after the few conversations I had with my daughter, I arrived at the same conclusion.”
“Dear me, that is its own little pickle. Even unconsciously, she’s developed feelings for this man—he must be quite something. I only hope that, by the time she awakens to how she feels, it isn’t too late.”
“That’s all up to her...” said Solid. “All my wife and I can do is watch over her.”
“Well, then. We had better win this war so that you may go on doing so without worry,” Cornelius said, looking smug.
“As you say, my lord.” Solid’s fighting spirit burned in his eyes.
Yes, we must win this war. Whatever it takes... Cornelius turned his gaze up once more and saw a large bird cut across the sky like a blade, seizing a smaller bird in its talons. Its dying cry rang in his ears. Cornelius stayed silent, continuing only to gaze up into the sky.
Lambert’s Camp, the First Allied Legion
“Oh, he’s a sly one all right...” muttered General Lambert von Garcia to no one in particular.
The general helmed the command on the front line at Kier Fortress. After a month of fighting, there had been no major progress. Given the Royal Army never had any intention of taking Kier Fortress, this was, in a way, only to be expected. More impressive was Neinhardt’s virtuosity in running the battle so as to keep the enemy from cottoning on. To the imperial army, it must have appeared that they were desperate to mount the walls and failing to do so. Just as he had been back at the Battle of Ilys, Lambert was fervently relieved that Neinhardt and his devious machinations were working for their side. What was more, for whatever reason, Neinhardt’s leadership had only grown sharper over the past few days. Lambert found it quite astonishing.
But even that’ll be over soon, he thought. In the next few days, things are going to start changing fast. The latest reports said that the Eighth Legion had clashed with the Azure Knights on the outskirts of the imperial capital, and apparently the Second Allied Legion was in battle as well. Initially, Lambert had assumed that the news of their counterinvasion would reach Kier Fortress within three or four days of their attack on Fort Astora, or a week at the latest. Cornelius and the other senior commanders had shared his view. The error in their calculations, though it had worked in their favor, had come from their misjudgment of Ashton Senefelder, the Eighth Legion’s tactician. Not a shred of information had slipped through the net he had laid, thanks to which the First Allied Legion had been able to proceed just as they had hoped, and the imperial army had allowed the invading Second Allied Legion to make it as far as Olsted. Now that Operation: Twin Lions at Dawn had entered its final phase, the First Allied Legion shouldered a heavy responsibility.
If word reaches Kier Fortress, the imperial army will be forced to make one of two choices.
They could hunker down at the fortress. Or they could divide their strength and go to the aid of the Azure Knights. The first option couldn’t be more straightforward. The First Allied Legion would continue its attack without relenting and wait for good news from Olivia. If they chose the second option, however, there would be problems. The First Allied Legion would have to do everything in their power to waylay the relief forces. On the off chance the imperial army broke through, they could make no excuses to Olivia and Blood. If worse came to worst, it wasn’t inconceivable that they might take the weakened Kier Fortress in one fell swoop, but no one knew better than they in the Royal Army that this would not be as easy as it sounded. As all sides acknowledged, until the day it fell to the imperial army, Kier Fortress had been impregnable.
“My lord,” came a hesitant voice. “There’s a lull in the fighting. I recommend you take the chance for a little rest.” Lambert looked over and saw his aide, Major General Grell Heit, looking at him with concern.
“I’m not tired. I was merely considering what comes next.”
“If you say so, ser.”
“If anything, it’s you who should take a break, Grell. The real fight is yet to come. To be quite frank, I can’t have you collapsing on me here.”
Grell was a general with a decorated history of valor in battle, and back when Lambert was only a green boy, it was Grell who had hammered into him the way of life on the battlefield. The man had seen seventy-three summers. His once muscular figure was gone, and now he was so thin he looked as though a gentle breeze could knock him flat.
Lambert’s suggestion that he take a break had been mostly serious, but Grell’s whole body quivered and broke out into a hearty guffaw.
“Grell Heit might be long in the tooth, but his blade made its name in battle and it’s far from rusted yet. I’ll prove it to you here, if you like.” Seeing Grell turn to his steed, Lambert rushed to stop him. If he gave the man leave, even in jest, he’d take his spear in hand and charge off alone at the enemy. That was the sort of man Grell was.
“Please, you’re going to give me a heart attack,” Lambert said, desperately grabbing Grell, who already had one foot in his stirrups, by the shoulders. He was older, and his body was frailer, but his spirit burned as hot as it had long ago.
Grell glanced at Lambert, then brought his foot back to the ground and bowed.
“Of course I don’t want to go stabbing my spear anywhere that’ll inconvenience you, General. Still, if you need me to stab anything, I’m always at your service.”
“Understood. I’ll be sure to keep that in mind.” Lambert watched as Grell handed the horse over to the care of an attendant with unspoken relief.
Him, Neinhardt, Travis... Why are the First Legion’s commanders such odd fish to the last man? I can only imagine what a headache it must be for the lord marshal to have to give them direct orders.
Lambert went on with his silent muttering, conveniently forgetting as he did so to list himself among his comrades.
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