The Last Stand (The Eleven Years War: Book One)
Chapter Forty-Four

Raul stood on a hill overlookingSemata, staring at his prize with a bottle of wine in his hand. For ten longyears, he’d been waiting for this day to come, the day he would finally beready to take this last city before setting out to conquer Mirinia, somethingno general in the history of the world had been able to do successfully. Thislast campaign had shown him that his men and the men Emperor Heida sent himwere more than ready for it; the Caithian army had ten years to prepare for theinvasion they knew was coming, and yet, their army still fell easily.

The only question washow much longer his men could go without seeing their loved ones. He would haveto give the men he wanted on his invasion force the time to see their familiesbefore he took them to Mirinia, something that would stretch his troops eventhinner than they already were. It seemed that he would either have to startdrafting some prisoners of war into the army rather than send them off toKurzh, or he would have to get Abunaken to officially side with him. Eitherway, he may just lose the loyalty of some of his men, but he had to get moretroops if he wanted to take Mirinia.

He took a swig ofwine. It looked like he would have a lot of headaches coming in the next fewmonths.

“General Raul, sir?”Raul turned around to see Captain Finn standing there, saluting.

Raul stood up. Thecaptain had been a little off ever since they left Semata. If he hadn’t knownhim better, Raul would’ve thought that there was some prostitute there he wassad about leaving; Finn was a little too virtuous for that kind of thing.

“What is it?” Raulasked as Finn put his hand down.

“Captain Bram saysthat his troops are ready for your inspection, sir,” he said.

Raul nodded as hehanded Finn the bottle of wine. “Would you mind running this to my tent,captain?” Finn nodded and began to head over to his tent as Raul walked over tothe hundreds of troops standing at the bottom of the hill.

“Captain Finn saysthat your men are ready for inspection,” Raul said as he approached Bram. Gods,had he changed since he joined the Gisken army; he was starting to resemble asoldier, and a damned good one, at that. It was why he trusted him to command anew unit in his army, one comprised entirely of mages. He knew for a fact thatthe Caithians didn’t have anything like this, with how superstitious much ofthe country still was.

“Yes, yes we are,”the oraniomancer said with a smile. “I’ve taken the liberty of dividing all ofour men up into squads, based on magical ability, then assigned leaders basedon skill. As I was expecting, most of our mages are pyromancers.”

“Andhow capable are they at fighting?” Raul asked as he walked among the mages’ranks. Bram followed close behind, looking as if he, too, were inspecting themen.

“They’requite capable, sir,” Bram said proudly. “I have no doubt they’ll be ready topull off your mission.” Raul stopped in front of a particular corporal mage,one that looked shorter and a little weaker than the rest. He was sixteen,maybe seventeen; the same age Raul was when he joined up.

“Whatare you, corporal?” Raul said. The boy stood a little taller when he realizedthe general of the Gisken army was addressing him.

“Hydromancer,sir,” he said. Raul stepped back, putting his hands behind his back, and lookedat the lance corporal that stood next to the corporal.

“Andwhat about you, lance corporal?” Raul asked.

Thelance corporal stood a little taller, too. He was about a head taller than thecorporal, and more muscular. “Terramancer, sir.”

Raulheld his hand out to them. “Would you two mind giving me a demonstration?” thetwo looked a little confused, but neither of them questioned him; they knewbetter.

“Yes,sir,” they said. They stood so they faced each other and drew on theirrespective elements: the corporal drew water right out of thin air and let itcover his hands, while the lance corporal pulled out a few stones from a bag onhis waist and levitated them in the air in front of them.

“Begin.”

Theterramancer was the first one to strike. He sent a few of his stones hurtlingat the hydromancer so fast, Raul was barely able to see them. The hydromancer,however, was ready for them. He shot his water from his hands out to meet thestones and caught them, so to speak.

Oncethe stones were in his control, the hydromancer shot them back at their owner,along with his water.

Theterramancer shot the stones out of the water and back towards the hydromancer,but he couldn’t stop the torrent of water that was coming toward him. He tookit full in the face, making him stumbled back and fall to the ground, soaked.

Thehydromancer took his opponent’s daze to his advantage. He conjured up morewater and got ready to spray more at his foe.

Theterramancer knew it, too. In one last-ditch effort, he kicked the ground,sending a wall of earth crashing against the hydromancer.

“Stop.”The two men looked up at their general and slowly stood up, obviously hurtingfrom their bout: the terramancer kept rubbing the back of his neck and thehydromancer was moving a lot slower than he had at the beginning of the bout.

Despitehimself, Raul found himself grinning from ear to ear. If the men fought wellenough to injure each other, only the gods knew how effective they would beagainst regular trips. It looked like Raul had found his secret weapon.

Now,he just needed to wait for his force to come through the Rayal Mountains.

Olrickstood in front of Marion, sword raised. Both of them were wearing leatherbreastplates and helmets, among other pieces of armor, and they both had woodentraining swords in their hands. When Silas left for the medical core buildingto see the latest casualties of war, Marion had insisted that they continuetraining. At first, he had Marion and Kael train together, but after awhile, hewent back to his room to sharpen his real sword and to polish the armor Polainhad loaned him while his own set was being made by Olrick’s father, thecastle’s blacksmith, and Eza had gone with him. Marion still wanted to train,so that left Olrick to be the one to spar with her, and one of the servants toofficiate.

“Begin!”The servant called.

Justlike she usually did, Marion attacked first, swinging her practice sword rightfor his head. Olrick side stepped it easily and smacked it away, but he didn’tattack her right after, like he would’ve in an actual battle; he preferred togive Marion a chance to learn from mistakes before he beat her.

However,as usual, she didn’t learn. She tried the same blow to his head, but came fromthe other side.

Onceagain, Olrick blocked it, but this time, he smacked her on the side with hissword.

Marioncursed when she realized she’d lost, again. She hated losing bouts, which waswhy the servants often went easy on her when they sparred with her. Of course,that meant that she wasn’t getting any better after years of training.

“Whycan’t I beat you?!” she yelled, frustrated, as she began pacing back and forth.

“Youjust need more practice,” Olrick said, praying to the gods that she would calmdown. When she was angry, there could be no reasoning with her; all one coulddo was wait out the storm. “I’ve been training with swords for most of my life,while you’ve only been doing it for five years. Be a little more patient withyourself, and it’ll click, someday.”

“Ican’t just have it click someday,” Marion said. “I need it to click, now! Raulis going to be here with his armies any day, now, and if I’m not ready, I won’tbe able to kill him!”

Olricksighed; it looked like they were back to that. Ever since she turned fifteen,she’d been hell bent on killing the man that killed her father and, indirectly,her mother. As much as he hated to think it, he missed the days before KingThias had been killed, back when Marion would force him to have tea partieswith her, her dolls, and the children of the other craftsmen who worked at CastleMatisse. Things had been so simple back then, without this whole business ofwar. He wished it could be simple again, but he knew that would never happen.After this war, he would be one of the world leaders who had to pick up thepieces Raul left behind him.

BeforeOlrick could try and reason with her, a servant came out of the castle.“Commander Olrick, Polain wishes to speak with you immediately.”

Olricknodded as he walked towards the armor racks. “I’ll be right there.” He lookedover at the servant that had been officiating their bouts as he took off hishelmet. “Would you mind sparring with the princess until I get back?” theservant nodded and rushed to the armor racks as Olrick hung his sword up.

Withouttaking off any of his other pieces of armor, Olrick entered the castle, towelin hand.

“Where’sthe general?” he asked as he wiped the sweat from his face. If he walked in onthe general completely drenched in sweat, he would throw a royal fit.

“He’sin his office, sir,” the servant said as Olrick wiped down his arms and hisneck. He guessed that she was a refugee; she had a pretty thick Kurzhianaccent. “Would you like a drink, sir? You look a little parched.”

Healmost said yes, but stopped himself. Over the past few weeks of living in thecastle, he’d noticed himself acting more and more like the noble he wasn’t.Even though a cup of water was such a simple thing for a servant to get, hedidn’t want to be any more of a bother to them than he needed to be.

“No,thank you; I’m just fine,” he said. He balled up the towel he’d been using. “Ihate to ask this, but would you mind taking this to the laundry? I don’t thinkPolain would appreciate me bringing a sweaty towel with me, and I’m not totallysure where it is.” The servant nodded and took the towel.

“Ofcourse, sir,” the servant said as she took the towel. “Is there anything elseyou need?”

“That’sit,” Olrick said as he stopped and pulled out his coin pouch. He took out a fewsilvers and handed them to her. The servant’s eyes grew really wide.

“I-Ican’t accept that, sir,” she said. “That’s way too much money!”

“Takeit,” he insisted. “It’s the least I can do for making you go anywhere near mysweaty towel.” The servant stared at the money for a few more seconds, thenaccepted it, staring at the money in her hands in amazement.

“Th-thankyou, sir,” she said with a bow. “You’re a saint!” She scurried away with themoney and the towel, heading for the laundry.

Olrickcouldn’t help but smile. It always made him feel good to help out the servingstaff.

Whenhe got to Polain’s room, he knew that something was really bothering him: hehad a bottle of Jotiese liquor on his desk. What was it called, sake? Whateverit was, Polain hardly even acknowledged the fact that he had a stash of it, letalone, drank it out in the open.

Polainlooked up at him. Gods, how could someone age so much in such little time?

“Please,shut the door.” Olrick did as the general asked.

“Youwanted to see me, sir?” he asked. Polain motioned at one of the chairs in frontof his desk.

“Willyou sit down, commander?” he asked. Olrick nodded and sat down as Polain pouredhimself another glass of sake. “Would you like some?”

“Nothank you, sir.” Polain took a quick swig of the liquor.

“Whydid you want to see me, sir?” Olrick asked. It was very rare that Polain askedpeople into his office just for social visits, especially his militaryofficers; getting drunk with people under one’s command was something Jotieseculture frowned upon.

“I’mgetting worried about Princess Marion,” Polain said. “Ever since I gave PrinceKael permission to fight when the Giskens come to take the city, she’s beenvery insistent that I let her do the same.” Olrick frowned, confused.

“Whatdo you want me to do?” he asked as Polain took another swig of sake.

“Iwant you to talk to her about it,” he said as he poured himself another cup ofsake. How many had the general had? It was a good thing that they didn’t have awar meeting in the next few days, or the general might embarrass himself, somethingthat was worse than death to a Jotiese man like him. “She won’t listen to meabout the issue, and I know how much she respects you; perhaps she’ll heedyou.”

Olrickbit his lip. The truth was, he thought that Marion should be allowed to defend her country. Every other ruler ofCaitha, including the Matisse queens, had followed their men into battle; whyshouldn’t she? There was probably some sort of Jotiese cultural quirk about itbeing shameful for a woman to have to fight.

“Inall honesty, I think that you should allow Marion to fight,” Olrick said.Polain seemed to perk up a little when he heard that.

“Whyis that?” he asked.

Olrickbegan to rub the back of his neck. “Well, next month, she’ll be ruling thiscountry on her own, and it could be a good learning experience.” Learning experience? Gods, that didn’tcome out at all like he’d intended it to. “You know how quick she is to chooseviolence. Maybe experiencing battle first hand will curb that enthusiasm alittle.”

Polain took anotherswig of sake, then stared distantly at something behind Olrick as he thought aboutit. It took all of his self-control to not look behind him to see what thegeneral was looking at.

“That isn’t your onlyreason to think that way, is it?” he asked. Olrick shook his head.

“I’m not sure how itis in Jotai, but in Caitha, our rulers have always followed their troops intobattle, no matter their sex,” he said. “I don’t see why Marion should be anydifferent.” Polain sighed, running a hand through his hair, then sat back inhis chair.

“She’s just so young,” he said quietly. “It seems likejust yesterday that she was playing with dolls and begging for frilly dresses.How am I supposed to send a mere child into battle?”

And, there was thevery reason why Polain and Marion never saw eye to eye: Polain still viewed heras the little ten-year-old he’d been put in charge of after her parents died.As much as Polain hated to see it, Marion was nearly an adult; she’d be incharge of an entire country by the end of the month, if the Giskens hadn’ttaken it over by then. He had to let her get out on her own.

“I know that it’shard, Polain, but you’ve got to let her grow up,” Olrick said. “She’s almosttwenty, now, and that isn’t as young as you think it is. I joined up when I wasten, and Eza was a prisoner of war by the time she was seven.” Polain finishedoff his cup of sake, but he didn’t pour himself another. Instead, he looked upat Olrick, a sad look in his eyes.

“You’ve given me alot to think about,” Polain said. “And here I was, hoping you’d be able tostrengthen my resolve.”

“Sorry, sir,” Olricksaid. “I was just trying to help.”

Somebody knockedgently on Polain’s door.

“Enter.” The doorcracked open and a servant, the same one Olrick had just given money to, peekedher head in.

“I’m sorry forinterrupting, sir, but Commander Orellus requests your presence,” she said. “Hewants to know how you want our troops positioned on the wall.”

Polain nodded, and heand Olrick stood up from their seats. “And there’s one more thing I must worryabout. I apologize for leaving so abruptly; I’m sure you understand.”

“I do,” Olrick said.“Do you want me to keep training Marion?” Polain paused as he thought about it,then sighed.

“I guess so,” Polainsaid. “Marion will probably end up fighting the Giskens no matter what I say;she might as well be ready for them.”