Chapter Two - War

Dawn arose, the sun creeping over the hills, half-stealthily, half-boldly, as if it couldn’t make up its mind. The battalion under the command of Bonjon, lieutenant to Orlando DiCaprio, Duke of the Seventeens was already on the move. By the late afternoon they would arrive at Ge’irdae. Then, Bonjon would order the battalion into the woods, where they would hide until morning, and right at the crack of dawn the fight would begin.

He looked back at the battalion as the marched silently along, their brown hooded cloaks matching the brown leather wrapped around their swords and bows. Indeed, just by looking at them, one could know they were from the Seventeens. But it was what Duke DiCaprio wanted, and what he wanted, became law.

As the sun rose higher in the sky, Bonjon began to see the faint outline of Ge’irdae. It was the most important city next to Aiulindale outside of the Seventeens. Once they held it in their hands . . . Aiulindale would prove easier to capture. And then, one by one, they would tighten their grip, as more and more cities would come under DiCaprio’s power.
~~~~~~~~
Edmund described the weather and the view to Kathryn. He looked at her gentle face, looking towards his voice. It was brighter than yesterday, it seemed as if no one else would explain things to her. That thought encouraged him to describe in greater detail. Suddenly a thought came to him.
“Do you want to go down to the garden today?” he asked slowly, almost afraid she would think him rude. Instead, her face looked genuinely surprised.
“I have not been to the garden for many, many years,” she said quietly.
“Let me take you,” Edmund said eagerly. “Then I can describe the flowers to you. They are quite beautiful today.”
“Would you mind though?” she asked, her brow furrowed in worry. “I do not want to trouble you.”
“You could use some fresh air,” he said good-naturedly. Taking her arm, he gently guided her out the door and down the hall. When they came to the stairs, their pace slowed considerably, and he carefully helped her down step by step. Finally they reached the bottom, and made their way to the courtyard. Unlike the dreary day before that was graced with pouring rain, the sun was shining down upon them.

As they walked, old Sir Rupert looked down at them from his window. He watched two stroll through the gardens, the young squire directing the lady’s footsteps. He saw a smile on his lady’s face for the first time in over ten years. Her pale blue dress matched the liliocks that swayed in the light breeze. He watched Edmund help her to reach over and smell the flowers.

That evening Edmund convinced Kathryn to come down to the Great Hall and dine with them there rather than eat alone in her room. It took a little more convincing than walking in the garden needed, but in the end she agreed. As they ate, she told him a bit about the castle, and her family.

“It is my father’s, you know,” she said. “After he died, Sir Uncle moved in to take care of it. It is supposed to go to the eldest in the family, but, Lady Aunt does not believe that a girl can reign over a castle.”
“You are blind,” Edmund replied.
“Only in my eyes.”
“They have done it before,” the squire remembered.
“Indeed. And if that is so, why can I not? Ah well, I have no great love for ruling, and Sir Uncle and Lady Aunt have no other place to live. I am happy and contented here.”
~~~~~~~
Orlando DiCaprio slammed his fist down on the table in his tent. Bonjon stood before him, visibly shaking. Hayden Potter stood off to the side, and behind the Duke in a corner stood a man cloaked in a midnight blue cape and hood trimmed with silver.

“I send you on the easiest of missions,” hissed DiCaprio. “And this is what you give me in return! You cannot simply launch a simple attack on Ge’irdae? Ge’irdae! Of all places, you cannot launch an attack there. Instead, instead you return to me empty handed, with only news of being spotted before you were fully hidden. Now Eldor,” he practically spat the name of the king, “now Eldor has been alerted. He knows that someone is planning an uprising. And if the militia of Ge’irdae paid enough attention to you, the finger will be pointed to the Seventeens. As Duke I am held responsible. And if I do not crush those attacks . . .” he broke off, glaring at Bonjon.

“M’lord,” ventured Potter tentatively.
“What is it Potter? And quick too.”
“Perhaps, we can alter the plan. Send Binks and I on the sides, and you come up the middle. Attack Aiulindale at once, before the king has enough time to prepare. We still have the element of surprise on our side”
“Indeed,” DiCaprio said dryly. “Dismissed. Both of you. Leave.”

As they left he heaved a sigh. If all his commanders blundered like Bonjon had, even a dream would be pointless. He could never hold Elenaesia if he lost every battle. The words of Potter remained behind, hanging in the air, waiting for the nearest hook to catch it and wipe it from existence. DiCaprio stood for a bit, silently contemplating the plan laid by Potter. As he stood there, the cloaked figure stepped forward.

“Potter is right. Take Aiulindale, and you take the torc. Once you have the torc, find the stone. And then, we shall stake your claim. One which no one can argue, unless they wish to argue with Esaiel himself. For it is the power that Esaiel put into Elenaesia in the beginning that gives the stone its power. Let us take back this power, and do so correctly, so as not to loose a city through the cracks in our fist.”
“Must you always counsel me thus, Draziw?” DiCaprio asked shortly.
“Would you rather I withheld my counsel from you completely?”
“No.”
“Then do not waste breath on that which you do not mean.”
“Is this your complete plan, Draziw?”
“Am I ever that simple, m’lord? Indeed not. Come, sit, and I shall begin to explain to you the full workings of my plan. I cannot tell you all, for some may change depending on the reaction of our enemy.”
“Depending? How so?”
“Very simply, m’lord. How will they respond to the attack on Eirtue and Minelido? That would change my plan somewhat. Minor changes, that are designed to be flexible with the outcome of each battle. We will win this m’lord.”

DiCaprio sighed. This was not turning out the way he wanted. “Well? What is the plan?”
“Patience, m’lord,” responded Draziw. “All will be revealed in its own time. For now, prepare for your attacks on Eirtue and Minelido.”
“Am I running this war, or are you?” snapped DiCaprio.
“You are m’lord. You asked for advice, and I have only ever offered it.”
“Very well then. How soon until the potion is prepared?”
“I am still testing it, m’lord. However, I believe the ratio of ingredients should prove sufficient this time.”
“It better. In the meantime, carry out my orders concerning Bonjon. I do not like failure.”
~~~~~~~
Eldor, King of Elenaesia, paced in his chambers. His wife and queen, Raelle, watched him with her cat-like eyes. He had been pacing for at least an hour now. That was one of the differences between the two of them, he would get uptight about every little thing, yet she remained complacent.

“I don’t understand,” he cried, throwing his hands up in dismay. “Who could have done it? Thank goodness that the militia of Ge’irdae discovered them before they attacked. But if they had . . . what then?”
“Calm down, Eldor,” Raelle replied. “Screaming about it doesn’t help anything.”
“Yes, but what am I to do?”
“Find out who did it, what else?” cried his wife in exasperation. “Stand around and twiddle your thumbs? Think, my liege, think! For once in your life!”
“I KNOW who did it, thou persistant wife! Do you think I do not know? I received a message, complaining that I am ruling as a dictator. Tell me, my dearest Raelle, O thou of catty women,” here his wife glared, “am I a dictator? Some call me a benevolent dictator, but that is not like a dictator, is it?”
“Indeed,” she responded. “But a dictator is still a dictator nonetheless.”
“But am I one, O Queen?” He stopped pacing for a moment to wave the message in her face, and then resumed.
“If you were, I’m certain that someone else would be on the throne,” she responded coolly. “Now, who did it then, if you know?”
“I have received word from Ge’irdae that the men were dressed as the men in the service of the Duke do.”
“You believe they are from the Seventeens? Do you believe the Duke is behind this?”
“I know not what to believe!” Eldor cried again. “It is all too twisted, too underhanded, too . . . I don’t know what! But all the evidence points to the Duke and the Seventeens.”

He continued his pacing. Silence again enveloped the room. Finally, after what seemed like hours to his wife, though was in reality only a matter of minutes, he stopped, and seemed to calm down.

“This means but one thing, sweet Raelle. We are at war.”