The Brothers War | IC (Closed)

[Lacus Magni]

Jordan Caelius

Prior to the death of Emperor Jason VI Augustus, General and Master of Soldiers Gaius Caelius Rufus Jordanes, known by his Christian name Jordan Caelius, had served in the Latin military since he was eighteen years old. A former cadet at Olympia Military Academy, Caelius graduated in 1970 and was commissioned as Centurion or Captain. Overtime he was elevated to Evocati and eventually as a Praetor, serving as one of the late Emperor Jason’s chiefs of staff.

Unlike most that have risen to his position, Caelius was from a lowly, common family of Latin descent located near the city of Tarquinii in county Leucarum. He was born amidst the Social War as the fighting began between the Social Republicans and Imperial forces, and had been told growing up his father was conscripted to join the Republican forces.

And just like his father all those years ago, Jordan Caelius was in a similar position, having been faced with a possible forced conscription into the service of the young Michael, who named himself the rightful and legitimate Emperor the night of Jason Augustus’ death. But while his father was pressed into Republican service against his will, Jordan managed to work his way into the appointment of Master of Soldiers or Magister Militum in exchange for providing his support and the legions of Sorrentia and Alba to Michael.

He was passed up on two previous occasions for the position as top general of His Majesty’s Armed Forces. The first chance he had to gain promotion was in 2001, which resulted in the appointment early in the reign of Emperor Jason of Greek-born General and Praetorian Prefect for Hellas, Andreas Keroularios. In 2001, Caelius was a longshot for the posting as the youngest potential nominee at fifty-three years old. However, his next chance came in autumn 2014 at Keroularios’ retirement. By this time, he had been serving as one of Emperor Jason’s military chiefs of staff for nearly a decade and had come to know him rather well, and expected to earn the appointment. However, he was again passed over with the appointment of former Deputy Praetorian Prefect and Prefect of the Oriens, Theodorus Fufidius.

Twice had he been passed over for a job that should have been his. I was the rightful heir, he thought of the 2014 appointment. But time and time again, current or former members of the Emperor’s Praetorian Guard were given high ranking appointments over their older and more experienced counterparts in the other service branches.

The position was his now, and all it took was providing a young and easily malleable monarch with several thousand loyal men willing to kill his enemies. Caelius wasn’t the only one willing to join Michael’s cause due to the prospect of career advancement. He’d learned that the Lord Commander of the Scholarian Guard had done the same when given the choice. Though Caelius hadn’t the slightest idea what the young Emperor promised him, but he did recall the whole fuss over the Empress Marsella and her Praetorian cousin the night Emperor Jason passed away.

He recalled the first night of meetings with Michael and his new advisors. It was Caelius, Lord Commander Andronikos Mavrozomes, member of his father’s privy council Flavius Gavius, and the girl Antonia Frontalia who he named Lady High Chancellor of his new council. That one didn’t make sense in the slightest to Caelius, but Michael’s intentions for her quickly became clear. She was a pretty girl, in fact, she reminded Caelius of his own daughter at times.

But that first meeting revolved around destroying and dismantling the Praetorian Guard, Mavrozomes seemed to spearhead that line of thinking. And Antonia claimed she could sway the Consul to attend the Emperor’s call to the capital. “Forgive me, I mean no disrespect, my Lady,” Caelius recalled scoffing at the idea that a girl of hardly twenty-one years old could possibly sway the Consul on which claim to support. “The Consul is a proud man, and one that doesn’t have the stomach for the sort of bloodshed that may arise from the coming days. How does a girl such as yourself believe she can sway such a man to pick one side or the other?”

Caelius’ words resulted in the first instance of Michael’s regular fits of rage or outburst. He called Caelius a number of names and slurs in the girl’s defense. But the girl assured the Emperor all was well among the friends in this room. She soothed him and calmed him down, something that Caelius discovered became very useful in the early days of Michael’s reign. “It just so happens that I know his daughter rather well, my Lord. I believe, given the proper time to persuade, he will join the rightful government in Castellum. As all His Majesty’s subjects will.

But the Consul never arrived, and instead joined Constantine in Adrianople - providing him with a legitimacy that was difficult for Michael to contend with. That was when his outbursts became a more common occurrence and more brutal. One night, one of Michael’s guards had to hold him back from a Palace servant who brought him a letter of more Senators taking up in Adrianople. If not for the guards, it’s likely the boy would have killed the server.

The most recent one however, was mere neglect by Michael’s part. First he treated one of his own guards with such hostility that the Greek lordling deserted his posting with the assistance of Princess Selene, the Emperor’s own sister. That was multiplied when the lordling reappeared in the city at the gates of the Ghantish embassy. “It is poor idea to place so many guns around the embassy, Caesar,” Caelius recalled warning the Emperor the night the Ghantish embassy was assaulted by Scholarians. “The Scholarians aren’t meant for this type of work or activity. Placing so many nervous individuals around a hotspot such as this is asking for trouble.”

Michael gave him a crude reaction, and completely blew off the advice. “Antonia said as you. The whore of Vindóbona thinks this way too. I had half a mind to take her tongue when she spoke back. Instead a simply hit her. A half-measure, she’ll be back. The whore always comes back. I wonder if you all hope I fail in this quest?” Michael posed to him rather calmly. “I won’t fail, and those who stand in my way, they will pay. The Ghantar will pay for all they have done in time. If that is tonight, it is so. If not, then it is also so. But will see them pay, starting with that embassy.”

“Sire, they were most foolish to leave the building occupied with staff...all things considered. But even if some minimal incident occurs, it may have grave consequences,” Caelius recalled the rest of the conservation. But by then the Emperor had veered from the topic, instead carrying on his rantings of those against him.

“That smirking whore has always been against me...my mother,” the boy’s mother hadn’t visited Castellum once since he took the throne. But she hadn’t taken up with Constantine either. Wise of her to simply pick the winner, it seems, though it was hard for Michael to accept that reality, seeing it it as near abandonment. Michael spit on the floor. “You know the whore was sleeping with my father throughout his marriage to my mother? I suspect others do...If people die they die, General. It’s what people do best. The Scholarians will remain at the gates of the embassy. Theodora Gentry may yet try to reach it. And I fear should she reach it, the consequences shall be far greater than what you can imagine.”

On that he was right, Caelius thought as he lifted his head up from the paperwork cluttering his desk. But the response from Ghish was an angry one, and Michael refused to respond accordingly and like the Monarch he desired to be seen as. On top of losing the one trump card that kept Ghant out of the conflict, they were enraged now.

Michael had refused all prudent advice of his councillors and military advisors. The Duchess had advised the Emperor to blame the incident on the Scholarians and Lord Commander Mavrozomes. “You will tell them that he oversaw the checkpoints in Martis and around the embassy. That, while he didn’t give the order to open fire, he was on scene when the events transpired and did nothing to mitigate any harm or damage that was done,” he recalled the Duchess speaking on the matter. Michael just shooed her away.

Even Antonia was worried over the incident. She was the first to hear that Lord-Ambassador Langa died in the firefight on the upper floors. What she didn’t hear was that one of my soldiers shot him in cold blood after he cut down two Scholarians. The whole thing was a disaster and only proved to begin the ticking clock to their end.

What those outside of the palace walls didn’t know however, was that Michael had been forcibly confined to his chambers in the Imperial apartments after Caelius ordered his men to do so and recalled another five hundred from Ravenna to help keep the peace and the Palace under his control. He, along with the Duchess of Vindóbona, and a handful of other Privy Councillors, were ruling in Michael’s name. If they continued to do so correctly, no one would be the wiser. Even though a woman, the Duchess did well as a ruler and administrator, far better than Michael.

I captured the Lord Commander. I had to tell him to his face that he was going to be turned over to the Ghantish officials, if not for the guards, Mavrozomes might very well have escaped or tried to kill Caelius. But with Mavrozomes under their custody and Michael out of the way for the time being, it allowed the Duchess to construct various letters, and messages under Michael’s name to try and quash any potential flames caused by Michael.

“Sir,” Caelius’ secretary poked their head in with a knock at the door. “The Scholarian legates are here to see you...for your appointment.”

The military uniformed woman stepped aside after the Master of Soldiers nodded and waved them to enter. Five men entered the room, the direct subordinates to Mavrozomes and his Deputy. These were the men that Caelius had to win over and ensure compliance or else lose a large portion of his manpower.

“Gentlemen, please take a seat,” Caelius labored to stand from his seat, but did show as a sign of respect for the men in front of him. “Can I offer you anything, honey water, tea or coffee perhaps?”

One man answered for the entire group. “We thank you for your generosity, my Lord. But no thank you. I’d much rather get down to the business at hand, if it please you.”

“Your name, legate?” Caelius posed to the man appearing to be superior to the other four.

“I have the pleasure to be Julus Maecilio, my Lord,” the Legate offer back. He was an average looking, middle aged Latin male, likely in his mid-forties based on his usual red, yet receding hairline. If under Caelius’ command the man wouldn’t have been allowed to wear the reddish-gray beard on his face, but he was a Scholarian and not a proper soldier.

“Legate Maecilio, I am to understand that the Scholarians are in need to new leadership following the detainment and removal of Andonrikos Mavrozomes as Lord Commander of your ranks. The five of you have the honor to be the highest ranking members of the guard,” Caelius sat with a straight back in his chair, his hands locked into each other as he observed each of the five men before him. “Now, given the recent turmoil in some of the boroughs and outlying counties, whomever among you holds the pleasure of serving as Lord Commander will work directly with me to ensure that when your brothers in arms take the fields for the Emperor, that they will be utilized in a way befitting their training.”

“With all due respect, my Lord,” Legate Maecilio had a stoic look about his face, while the two seated behind him whispered something to one another. “We are gendarmerie, and while we have swat and more heavily armed members at our disposal, these men are not proper soldiers. I told Mavrozomes the same thing when he said we were to send our Scholarians to Kallipolis. Keep the peace we can, but fight a war? I fear we are simply not enough.”

“I agree,” Master of Soldiers Caelius said to the surprise of Maecilio. “I urged His Majesty and the Lord Commander to deploy the Scholarians into positions where they would succeed opposed to what we have all seen take place within the preceding weeks.”

“And what is it you intend to do...with Mavrozomes?” a second legate asked Caelius.

“He is to be detained for the time being,” Caelius pinched his lips together and lifted his hands apart before they clasped back together again. “At least until a proper investigation of the Marble Palace can occur. We should not have been there that night, and now we are to pay for it no? Were any of you present that night?”

“Do you mean to intern us as well, my Lord? Because we will not stand for threats against our persons, even from men such as you,” Maecillio’s face teetered from a mild curiosity to disgust at certain points, making it difficult for Caelius to interpret.

Duchess Maria should have taken care of this. I have no stomach for politics and intrigue. The deed would be done. He recalled her words of encouragement and advice before selecting his next words. “Is it not better to corrupt one or two men to save the lives of thousands?”

“Why don’t I just tell you what I plan to do, in unison with the next Lord Commander. That is, you five will select your next commander, at which point we will begin to repurpose the Scholarians to work they are more suited for...in an auxiliary role, shall we say? At present, we have a militia of nearly thirty thousand ready to be moved out towards Ravenna and Kallipolis. They will replace the Scholarians divisions in those locations; however, with the caveat of a couple thousand of your numbers remaining to support when required and keep the peace. As Lord Commander and Legates of the guard, you five will be rewarded with a substantial bonus, I might add. Acceptable?”

The men took a long look at Caelius before retreating amongst themselves to speak over his plans. After a minute or so, Maecillio looked forward from his seat to Caelius with an answer. “How substantial?”

“£200,000,” a second Legate offered for the rest.

Caelius countered with “£100,000.” Eventually they settled on £125,000 for the each of them.

“Agreeable. Though has the Emperor considered a truce or ceasefire as of yet?”

“We are currently working on terms of a ceasefire in Kallipolis, however one seems unlikely to occur there and especially in Sorrentia, it pains me to tell you good men. Envoys have been sent to Adrianople and to Leo Gentry’s camp as well, if you must know,” Caelius said, the men giving the appearance of accepting the fact they were trying. “And who is it that will lead your Scholarians?”

“I will have that honor, my Lord,” Maecillio told Master of Soldiers Caelius.

[Lacus Magni]

Leo

It seemed like forever ago when he last saw or spoke to Anna, and issued the order for all legions and armies stationed in the Hellenic counties to begin mustering and make way towards Leonopolis in the county Pella. At first, his thoughts were to rally in Alexandria, though it made little sense given it’s location and lack of naval or air transports to move his force across the bay for landing in Sorrentia or Collipo counties. And that was even before Michael’s naval forces began a minimal bombardment against the most important of the Greek cities. A move made even less sense to him as it only enraged the local populace.

All in all, it had been at least a week and a half since the order was given for his soldiers to actually reach Leonopolis. Not long after his own arrival in the city, he heard word of Constantine’s forces taking the battle to the rebel armies loyal to Michael in and around Kallipoilis in county Emporiae. Even so, his scouts had learned that Michael had perhaps a division of infantry and legion of armor near Rhenus, making any southward movement difficult without bloodying a good number of his own.

Based on the news, Kallipolis seemed the more prudent movement seeing as Michael’s forces in Rhenus made little movements aside from small skirmishes to crosses of the Hellenic county lines. From his reports, Michael sent the bulk of his armies to the city; however, a great majority of that force consisted of Scholarians. He hoped the events would unfold favorably for Constantine, and that he might push through and reach Castellum before anyone else had the chance. He needs to be the first through the old gates.

As soon as the last of forces trailed into Leonopolis, Leo began his march towards Kallipolis. His hopes were to flank Michael’s force and completely overwhelming them with sheer numbers. With all the legions stationed in Hellas pre-war, his numbers would have totaled nearly fifty thousand strong. Though upon the arrival of what would be his last soldiers reaching camp in Leonoplis, the Colonel informed him that at least twenty thousand of that force - equalling nearly two legions of infantry, a legion of armor, a legion of cavalry, and a legion of artillery - elected to remain at their stations near the Latium-Vannois and the Latium-Rome borders. Eventually word would reach him that these forces and their officers would take up with the ever growing non-aligned movement, led by his uncle Prince Theodosius, the Duke of Beroea.

The news felt like a swift punch to the gut for Leo, though 30,000 or 35,000 should be far more than enough, he hoped at least. Departing from Leonopolis that very night, Leo and his legions of Latins and angry Hellenes began a swift movement towards Kallipolis. He was in constant communication with Constantine and the Chacoan forces, quickly learning of the plan to initiate an assault on Sorrentia. With that news, he came to a dilemma: to fully move against Kallipolis and utilize the Sorrentian invasion as a distraction or split off a legion or two for Kallipolis and aid the Chacoans by sweeping around back of Michael’s forces.

“On the one hand I move everything against Kallipolis,” Leo recalled the conversation between himself and Strategos Argyros before departing from Leonopolis. “We take them by surprise, obliterating the only major army between the Emperor and Castellum. They will be completely broken.”

“Though if we move in such a way, it’s possible the rebels near Rhenus would aim to repel the invasion,” Strategos Argyros offered a noticeable downside to the first option. “Right now, we’re halfway from Leonopolis to Espo. In truth there are any number of ways to move. Might be we feign a movement southward.”

“We’d have to backtrack too much to even hope of goading them into any favorable movement,” he sighed as he pondered. “Then might be we split a force.”

“Heraclea isn’t as significant a military target as say Ravenna or some smaller city up the coast. If I were at the defense, I’d move from here, to here,” Argyros motioned towards the map, pointing from Rhenus to Ravenna. “It serves as a natural choke point, with the added advantage of the Raedavea running right through it. The quickest way to the capital.”

“It makes sense, fall back to Ravenna and fortify. Delay any movements and pray Kallipolis is won in his favor.”

Argyros shrugged his shoulders and then gave a nod. “I’d suspect so at least. If they move now, Lord knows they may already have, they’ll have ample time to fortify the area and make it hell for anything moving up the coast.”

After their discussion, Leo had decided to send three legions to reinforce Constantine’s forces fighting for Kallipolis, moving his remaining host further west towards the Hellenic border where Dodona met the southern point the county Aurea. From there it was their plan to invade from the north and attempt to block any chance Michael’s forces had at reaching Ravenna. That was until he heard of the news out of Espo and the death of George.

It was an event that gave Leo great conflict, on the one hand it was one less thing to worry about with a major claimant being knocked out of the battle. But on the other had, information of the event was so scant and limited, making the situation all the more ominous. However, the news was certainly cause for great concern and Leo didn’t want to risk sending his legions into a trap when they would pass south of Espo. Now, instead of his plans to cut off any attempt for Michael’s armies to retreat to Ravenna, he continued westward to Espo.

While his forward forces departed from Hellas days prior from a different position, Leo and his legions crossed from the Hellenic counties at Stabiae, south of county Aurea - causing him to travel a greater distance. It only took an hour from that point to finally cross into Aurea and that was when more than just the weather began to turn poor. With Leo’s transports travelling down the countyside roads of the area, he would occasionally see people, families walking along the sides. After reaching Aurea and nearing Espo, the number of those along the roads began to grow, as did the number of abandoned vehicles, which caused their own set of difficulties.

“Salve, mi Lord,” a man said to Leo as they were stalled on the roads heading towards the small town of Colonia Baelo Claudia. Just ahead of him, his soldiers attempting to push abandoned cars and trucks out of their path. The man wore a suit, though it was covered in dirt and torn at one of the shoulders and sleeves with scuffs visible along his mud covered shoes. A woman and young boy walked closely behind him. The man appeared to be unaware of who Leo was, but addressing any man in a military uniform such as his as “My Lord” was typically a safe gamble for a commoner to make.

“Salve,” Leo nodded to the man in return. “What brings you out this way, surely there is shelter in Baelo to keep you and yours out of this rain?”

The man shook his head back and forth, taking the child’s hand as they coughed. “Aye, in normal circumstances, mi Lord. But it’s nigh empty or at least those there want you to think...it seems off to me.”

Leo looked at the man curiously, and then to one of his legates that sat next to him. “Where is it you good people are from?” He opened the door of his car and stepped out into the rain, the water bouncing off of his black raincoat as he pulled the collars up.

“Atuatuca,” the man offered up as his wife pulled an empty water bottle from her purse and began to attempt to fill it with rain water. Atuatuca wasn’t any town Leo ever heard of before, so it must have been very small. “The fighting forced us out. Mine and some neighbors sought protection from His Lordship in Cularo, but we couldn't even get close. Then to His Grace the Duke in Vindóbona, but once we got there some guards or police shooed us away from the gates.”

“There were more of us,” the child meekly added, saying no more however.

“Aye, there were. Those of us remaining are headed for Hellas,” the man finally said his destination. Up the road, some of Leo’s vehicles started to move again, though he waved others to continue on forward as he spoke with the man. “Met a couple from Menavia who had heard it was untouched.”

“The man also said it was safe near Ravenna,” the woman spit at the ground in disgust. “And we know how that turned out.”

“How did that turn out?” Leo asked curiously. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“Let’s just say I never thought seeing another blasted army would cause me joy,” the man said in response for the woman.

Leo spoke with them for a few more moments. They told him that they had seen an army at least three nights ago that appeared to be moving from the east, allowing him to assume it was the Rhenus legions. Before parting ways, Leo assured them that the Hellenic counties were safe enough for the time being. He even offered them a little water, bread and fruit, receiving a smile from the child in return. The woman even broke down into tears and he thought she was nearly about to drop to kiss his feet, though thankfully that never came to bear.

The heavy rains continued to plague his every movement as they neared Espo and county Fuscina. “Sounds like we’re coming on the Fuscina, doesn’t it?” one of his legates said as the rain pounded away at the roof of the car. The legate was referring to the Fuscina River. Just south of the city of Espo, four rivers converged to create the Fuscina. It was one of the widest rivers in Latium, creating the borders for Hellas with the counties Stabiae and Rhenus.

“No way,” one of the other legates shook his head. “We’re at a half mile or so away from the nearest crossing. I’d know...I was baptized that fucking thing.”

It ended up being closer than a half mile, with the river appearing to have been recently flooded. The crossing appeared to still be intact, but the high waters reached up the banks to the point of nearly touching the road towards the entrance of the bridge. The river’s edge was scattered with a handful of people attempting to fish from the waters. “Poor saps, there won’t be any fish willing to bite in waters like that,” a legate said as the car drove the to the side of the road at Leo’s order.

Most of the fishermen gathered their things and walked away once they spotted the military vehicles. It was hard to blame them, especially with the belief that Michael was conscripting militia to join his fight. “You there,” a legate shouted to one of the few who stood his ground and continued to fish as if the legions weren’t even there. “A moment of your time.”

The man pretended like he couldn’t hear, holding his hand against his ear, even shaking his head. “We’ll even give you some bread. All we want is to talk,” the legate said as he approached the fisherman. The thought of bread was enough to entice him to talk.

With the driver remaining at the car and a legate remained to observe the crossing, Leo and his second legate, Celsus Fontieus, went to speak to the fisherman. The son of a Latin father and Greek mother, Leo had come to learn that Fontieus had spent a great deal of time in this area, having familial ties on each side of the Fuscina. A man in his mid-to-thirties now, with a black beard growing thick upon his face, Fontieus was a graduate of Hagia Eustrátios, a private military academy located somewhere in western Hellas. He was rather young for a legate, but then again, Leo even younger to be a Catepan.

“Catch anything yet, my man?” Fontieus asked the fisherman.

Likely no if he jumped at the chance of bread, Leo thought as the fisherman shrugged his shoulders and pointed to a basket. There were, however, a few fish in his basket, though none of a significant size. “What have you heard of Espo?”

“Dangerous,” the fisherman stated, finally taking his eyes off the rushing river and taking a good once over of both Leo and Fontieus. “But I’m sure you knew that already, mi Lord.”

“Your Highness,” Fontieus corrected the man with deliberate speech, but Leo looked at him and shook his head showing no. “You’re speaking to a prince.”

“Is that so? Aye, I can see it. You have that look about you,” the fisherman laughed with a puff of breath. “But mayhaps I’m a prince too, seeing is they and emperors keep popping up left and right. Down to two now, aren’t we? Thank the Lord at that. Soon enough and we'll be down to non...one.”

“What happened in Espo?” Leo asked the fisherman, wiping rain off of forehead.

“Some massacre of sorts is what I’d heard,” he acted like he felt a pull on his fishing line. “Don’t know by who, but I know the Bastard Emperor died.”

The fisherman resulted in Leo learning little in the way of new information before he told them he intended to head north for the Vannosian border or the “Prince-Duke’s camps” near about there. But at least he now knew there was some sort of massacre. Others reappeared along the river once it became clear the army was ignoring them. Leo and Fontieus spoke to a handful along the way back to the crossing. Some said of a fight between the usurper and the Vannosians, others claimed it was the Romans who’d taken care of George, completely ludicrous thought. One blind, elderly man claimed that God himself came to “smite the usurper.”

Each story seemed to be more ridiculous than the last, but it was clear as they neared Espo that most of the native population had moved onto other areas; elsewise he’d have a better understanding of the events and how the usurper died. Thought it did lead him to conclude that while the natives may have moved on, the people he was speaking with now were from near Kallipolis and Emporiae.

Once crossing the river, Leo was informed that his scouts had come upon a small, deserted village. He ordered them to give it a thorough search and once it was determined it was safe and clear of any thing hostile, decided it would be where they would stop for the night, resupply and re-energize.

[New Edom]

Fineberg, New Edom

It was very warm in Fineberg, one of those sunlit days that seemed to make the air golden, and so the windows were open in the high vaulted granite chamber that was the conference room at the former Charella palce, now used for the Chamber of Deputies to meet at. On the walls were frescos of saints and apostles, martyrs and figures from antiquity as imagined by artists from the Cornellian Period. There were also ancient bloodstains that could not be removed from the floors and walls and would not be for historical reasons from the Charella Massacre when vengeful partisans of Adah the Liberator had slaughtered the provincial senate members here with explosives, swords and pistols.

Sixteen Deputies as well as a bevy of legal advisors (nearly all clergy) and aides sat nearby them. Because this was a sacred matter, everyone involved had to remove all clothing and jewelry before it began and make their confessions and be absolved in the chapel, and have their bodies washed and be blessed. Sarah Carmel, leader of the Free Congress, had strongly advocated that the entire Chamber of Deputies be edenist at all times; she was voted now and bitterly refused to wear anything even on the soles of her feet there, as did about sixty two others who belonged to the Chamber and were not all Free Congress.

"We're going to have to really fight on this," she urged Urian Bannon of the Peace and Harmony Party as they were drying off from their washing in the ancient Font Hall which had once been part of the Bath House of the old Crnellian building. The aqueduct still worked and a fountain from the wall that looked like a leonine face poured water into a great granite basin and into shower pipes that hung like brass flowers above drain funnels bellow their bare feet. "We need to have an elected Council, you know this as well as I. We must have cross party unity on this. None of these bastards, these sell outs, will really serve the people of this country."

Bannon paused in his drying. "I agree, but not all do. This country has never had a purely eelcted leadership except briefly during the Theocratic Republic period. Look how that turned out. And you were involved. This will not sway anyone, Sarah. These three men are heroes. We should instead side to tr to make sure that Anthony and not Nicanor nor Lalery are appointed."

Sarah Carmel, a vixen faced dark haired woman, dark olive of tan, had the lean body of a young female gymnast, and she tossed her towel to an attendant. "That's a start. Talk to your people, get htem behind you. Blessings of the Lord to you."

"And to you."

They now filed in and took their seats, and were calling their first set of witnesses to the character testimonies of each of the three candidates. "We now call upon the Undersecretary of Foreign Affairs for Cornellia: Elizabeth Corbulo," said Bannon, banging his gavel and bringing the meeting to order.

What Corbulo was first grilled over was what was referred to as adventurism on her behalf. Was it not true that both Nicanor and Lalery had supported 'advventures' in Ashab and in Latium more recently? Did they truly have the best interests of the people of the nation in mind?

While this was being discussed, however, a letter was being penned.

To: Xeina Ccallo,
Assistant Minister for Foreign Relations
From: Dr. Lemuel Kore, Ambassador
Subject: Foreign Operations in Latium
Encryption: Most Secret, Eyes Only

---

Dear Miss Ccallo,

I hope this letter finds you well. I am sure you are looking forward to Christmas, and I wanted to remind you of our invitation to attend Christmas Eve celebrations with us after services. I am excited to once again attend the great service at the cathedral here in the capital, for it is one of my favorutite things to do. I am looking forward to the music and the reminder that we are all small in the eyes of God and yet much loved as the Christ child was loved.

Our two countries have walked curious parallel paths in the last few years, and I am glad that you and I have done our work to minimize unnecessary confrontations. And yet one is building now. Our two nations' policies threaten to collide over Latium.

It is not for me to criticize my government's policies as to twho they back as Emperor of the Latins. It is for me to do my best to minimize the damage this coudl cause to our two countries when so much hard work of diplomacy has been done. I am writing to ask: will it be possible for our countries to come to a discreet agreement to have our forces in Latium not confront one another? If we do not meet, there is no actual conflict between us, would that not be correct? Naturally I would never dream of asking that either party undermine field security for military operations, but a certain discretion may be ncessary. It would also be vitally necessary that we have a means of explaining unforseen unfortunate events such as accidental attacks which could take place through unexpected circumstances.

I hope we understand one another.

And I look forward to a very happy Christmas in your beautiful city.

I have the honour to be
Dr. Lemuel Kore
Ambassador to Gran Chaco

NENS Boa

Admiral Count Barnabas Amalek along with officers of Emperor Michael's navy stood in the grand wardroom of the carrier listening to a choir of sailors singing:

Come
Behold this child
In the manger
Gift of the Father's
Great love
Angels are down
As His glory
Surrounds them
Starlight
From Heaven above

Admiral Amalek had met with these officers after exchanges of signals and etiquette and formally received them as representatives aboard his flagship. There was still no word on whether or not the soft assed evil minded politicians back in Fineberg were ready to support this. Rumour had it that the King was sick, the Queen mad as ever. Figured. He could only hope and pray that the Princes Jocasta took over again. He showed no sign of this worry though as he was all smiles and discipline for the benefit of their allies--whom they had not done a damned thing for. Were they to be supported not? He didn't care a curse for the obvious military blunder at the Ghantish Embassy.

But he didn't like the idea of blundering into a regional war either. He had heard from contacts at the Foreign Ministry that they were going to try to lighten the impact of a potential war with Chaco. Maybe they weren't all evil minded after all.

Maybe he was getting old and cranky. He listened to the words of the hymn.

Sing noel
Sing Hallelujah
God in us
Now come to dwell
Sing noel
Lift high His praises
Christ our Emmanuel
Christ our Emmanuel

Lift up your heads
All
Who wander in darkness
Shine
For your light has come
Down through the ages
Though sins battle rages
Christ
The Messiah has won

The Latin officers had politely but vehemently explained that without the edomites' help, the rest of their fleet would be destroyed. Jedorian frigates, subs and destroyers wer hunting them down supported by fighter planes. They were living like fugitives near their own coastline. Something had to be done. He could appreciate how such proud men would be horrified by this.

Sing noel
Sing Hallelujah
Come adore our baby
Sing noel
Lift high His praises
Christ come
To set us all free
Christ come
To set us all free

They clapped and smiled and wine glasses were filled by white jacketed stewards.

"While we drink wine," he heard one of the Latin officers murmur to another, perhaps doubting that a Baran might hear Latin as well as he, or maybe intending it, "Our brothers die at the hands of the traitor Constantine."

"Gentlemen," said Admiral Amalek, "I know you must wait and be patient and it goes hard. I recently received instructions: we are still waiting for orders to land forces or join in your defense against the rebels. But there is one thing I have not..er...not been ordered not to do and that is to resupply your fleet. I spoke with Princess Jocasta today and she said that on consultation with the Chief Justice, Bishop Zecharias, that this is so. And so we will begin refueling and rearming your fleet after we drink our toasts. I have thought long and hard on this." he raised his glass. "To Christian government in Cornellia: deus veult!"

Glasses raised and dark purple-red liquid reflected the light and a hundred voices replied, "DEUS VEULT!"

[Republica De Gran Chaco]

To: Dr. Lemuel Kore, Ambassador
From: Office of the Assistant Minister for Foreign Relations
Subject: Meeting
Encription: Most Secret, Eyes Only

---

Dear Dr. Kore,

Christmas is indeed a most wonderful time for all Christians around the world. The birth of our savior and our reconciliation with God is the most important event in world history and I am so very pleased to know that you will be in attendance for midnight mass at the cathedral to celebrate it in a Chacano fashion. Since I was a child I have always loved waiting until midnight to see Jesus placed into the manger of the nativity outside of the Cathedral in the plaza. Though in those days I was never able to make it through the crowds to get inside for mass. As for your invitation of Christmas Eve celebrations, I would be most honored to join you and your family, in fact nothing could please me more.

As for the most serious business with the Latins, I definitely believe that an agreement can be reached. Chacano and Edomite forces seem to be in peculiar situations in Latium and with our security garrisons in Ashab. I bring up Ashab, because the stability of our neighbors are perhaps our highest priority in regards to security concerns. Our militaries are in a position to work together for the development of a nation in our immediate vicinity. It would be a serious blunder to throw this opportunity away, as well as the obvious opportunity of increasing ties between out nations. Our troops will be informed most clearly that we are not at war with New Edom, and that they are not to engage Edomite forces. I believe that we can put pressure on the Jedorians to do the same.

This stance however does not extend to the presence of other nations that have histories of not being so reasonable. Bluntly speaking, the allied forces have a keen interest in keeping imperialist nations such as Akai or the imperium out of the conflict. I hope that this war does not expand, and should either of these nations wish to intercede, I hope that you can press them to rethink their stance, as we are pressing the Jedorians to avoid conflict with New Edom.

On a side note, I wish to inform your government that we are transferring Sofia Muñoca to Fineberg to be ambassador to your wonderful nation.

Merry Christmas, I look forward to celebrating the holiday with you and yours.

Xeina

[Republica De Gran Chaco]

Chacano Headquarters
Heraclea, Latium

Brigadier Julian Tomás walked into the office of General Pablo Fuentes, he had been asked to discuss new plans in regard to their forces in Latium. Inside he met Major General Marcos Caceres the commander of the new division that was being formed of all the Chacano land forces, Brigadier Angel Cambeiro the air commander, and Rear Admiral Elias Suni, commander of the amphibious assault ships. Jedoran Colonel Bădescu was also present with a translator to help him understand the plans being discussed in Spanish.

The Jedorians had wanted to press on with an advance up the coast, but had only been willing to commit one brigade of marines for the effort. The Chacano government had lodged an official protest with the Jedorians in regards to the amount of ground forces in the area. Chaco had always been open to the fact that their troops were there to support Jedorian efforts. Only a brigade, build around two regiments of light infantry had been sent with the task force to act as an emergency force. It was hardly a force meant for an invasion. Even with the addition of the Chaco Lancers, the ground forces were still pathetically light. The Jedorians had turned out to not have been willing to match their ambitions with soldiers. Some in Yanque had begun to openly wonder if this new Jedorian government wanted to win glory with Chacano blood.

That was not the view of the whole government, and had definitely not been true in regards to the Jedorian naval commitment and skill in defeating Michaels fleet, but still, it was questioned why Jedoria could not at least commit a division to the conflict. They had just rapidly inflated their military to a massive size, and it was full of tanks and artillery. The Jedorians had even loaned Chaco some heavy cargo aircraft to bring in their helicopters, so what was the problem with bringing in some tanks of their own?

The final straw had been when the Jedorians, who had insisted on the advance with only light troops, had chosen to keep command of the majority Chacano air-ground forces, putting a colonel in command over a Chacano general. When the diplomats asked about this, the Jedorians seemed to imply that their officers were the professionals while the Chacano officers must be made up of elites who were merely parade ground soldiers. A strange implication seeing as how Chacano officers had far more combat experience than the Jedorians and were chosen from the ranks due to the particular system of conscription. This obvious slight in in the face of ignoring Chacano concerns over a string of issues, from troop strength to the persecution of Christians in Jedoria had caused the Defense Ministry to send a new string of orders cancelling the advance. The Jedorians, now understrength had decided to commit their forces under Chacano command rather than move up alone.

Pablo Fuentes, who was now the air ground commander had talked it out with Admiral Matias, and now presented the plan to the other officers present. It had been worked out that a force in being strategy would be used. General Fuentes waited until Julian had settled in before outlining the plan, “The CLI and the Lancers will be used to form a defensive perimeter outside of the city on the high ground in case some overzealous Latins decide to get frisky, though by no means are they going to be sitting in one spot. They will be patrolling aggressively, taking local towns to try and push Michael’s forces out of the area. We won’t be occupying this ground for long periods, but we will be moving in and out, trying to look like we are probing for an attack while we wait for a buildup. To go along with this, the support elements of the CLI and the Lancers will be brought in, so that any spies in the area will see a constant stream of equipment being offloaded at the docks and the airport. Brigadier Tomás, this means that we will be detaching the CLI from your brigade.”

Julian nodded, and asked, “What will the Marines be doing sir?”

General Fuentes replied, “Your marines, along with the Jedorian marines will be loaded on to the ships to conduct small scale landing operations all along the coast. These will mainly be raids, to destroy enemy communications and garrisons, and will be short lived.”

Turning to the Air Force officer in the room Fuentes continued, “Brigadier Cambeiro, will be launching tactical strikes, and SEAD operations to weaken anything in the area. We hope that these small, but aggressive attacks and buildup of the forces in Heraclea will keep some of Michaels forces pinned down here to focus on us, so that Constantine’s boys will have an easier time up north. If he requests us to move we will, but we have a force of elite raiders, and it would be inappropriate to use them as regular infantry. After all, you can use a can opener to get a beer bottle open, but it isn’t designed for the task.”

General Fuentes took some questions, and they discussed the details of the mission for a bit, before all of the men started wandering out of the office to go and develop the plans for their own particular forces. Julian lingered to have a quick word with General Fuentes.

“What do you need Brigadier?” Fuentes asked as he sat down behind his desk. Fuentes was the opposite of Julian in build. The men were of similar height, though Fuentes was broad shouldered and stocky while Julian was thin and slight. Fuentes also carried himself in a tougher manner, it must have killed a man so aggressive to not go on with the offensive. Julian Tomás was more quiet and bookish, with an academic air, though it was a mistake to think that he was a push over.

“Sir, before we all became engrossed in our tasks I wanted to make sure a soldier gets recognized for some of his deeds. There is a CLI captain by the name of Bryan Cayo, who I believe deserves a decoration. I had mentioned him in dispatches to Admiral Matias for getting the taking the airport and getting the defenders to surrender, but he has recently saved a LRRP team from being overrun. Apparently while on the ground he had even stopped a flanking attack single handedly. The LRRP sergeant spoke very highly of his actions. I have the paperwork all filled out, I was hoping that I could also get your endorsement to support his medal.”

General Fuentes took the paperwork and looked it over, “Well he looks like he deserves it, and God knows it would be good for the public to have some good news.”

Fuentes signed the paper saying that he supported Brigadier Tomás’ recommendation and handed the packet back. Julian thanked him, and walked out of the office to send the recommendation and then get on with getting his marines loaded back onto the ships.

[New Edom]

NENS Pelican, Near the joint Terician-Latin EEZs

While the rest of the fleet stood guard scattered around in a rough 360 degree circle, the remaiing ships of the little rag tag fleet of the Pretender Michael approached within this protective orbit to bre replenished.

A Duenna Class replenishment ship was a huge vessel, bigger than the VTOL carrier Boa, designed to bring all the fleet's needs with them, a great milk cow ship that carried eleven million liters of marine fuel among other important goods for war. Like a bloated termite queen among her fierce guards, it wallowed forward against the might of the indifferent sea with its mites swarming aboard it. The superstructure was seven decks high and she had a helicopter pad on the fan tail. The fuel lines hung from four cranes, three on one side and one on the other. They could refuel two ships at once maybe more if things were done properly.

"NOW HEAR THIS; NOW HEAR THIS!" piped the voice of the Ship's Master Chief Boatswain's Mate. "Deck force to refueling stations!"

That meant Miss Midshipman Samaiah "Sam" Japhet had to scramble her deck force division out under the critical eye of the First Lieutenant, the hyper critical acid toned Rehem Becher. An awe inspiring six years older than she at 24. He was already looking at his watch and shaking his head as she began to get a move on. Was she already late?

However the stern superior officer might just be messing with her head. The Latin vessel, a frigate, was about 1500 meters off the Pelican's port bow. The sea had 4 foot swells and the weather was slightly overcast. "Good day for it, Your Honour," said the Chief Boatswain's Mate to the young midshipman.

"Yes, it is," said Sam briskly, not quite sure what he meant by this. While she was not sure of her knowledge, she was absolutely sure of one thing: Baran aristocrats wer born to command, and she had the sea in her blood. Her house had bled into the sea or triumphed over it for generations since the time of David the Lawgiver. She would have to work hard, but it was God's will that she have the opportunity. She made sure her billed cap was snug on her short haired head.

The Latin frigate looked not at all like a ship in a navy that was losing a war--it looked nicely ready for action, clean lines, handled well to her rather novice eye.

"Miss Japhet, do you need an engraved invitation?" snapped Lieutenant Becher.

"Er, nossir," she stammered. "Division!"

"Division!" thundered her division Chief Boatswain, whose voice drowned out hers--the man old enough to be her father.

"Fall in for refueling! Take station!" she squeaked, feeling childish and foolish. It was annoying; she had been first in her division as a cadet now she felt all thumbs all the time; she had done well on the sailing training vessel, everything was different now. Once a champ, now a wet behind the ears junior officer no one wanted around.

The blue jacketed striped shirted sailors took up their station on the port side life boat deck. One male sailor's position was to keep tension on the sound powered phone line to the other ship. In front of her was the torpedo tube launcher, it was gray with room for three torpedoes and stood about four and a half foot tall. To her right were three other line tenders and the sound powered phone talker. This duty was given to a First class, an older responsible warrant. Then five other men and women had to control a two inch line that went through a block pulley to the other ship. The two engineers that had the refueling station had to attach the steel cable with the pelican hook to the bulkhead and connect the four inch fuel line. They had all their tools ready because the Latin frigate was pulling up along side the Pelican.

And this was her first operation such that was not a training operation. With Becher, her own captain and senior officers and probably The Admiral watching too. She forced herself to think of the problem at hand. Remembering her best teacher at the Academy. What is at hand is all that maatters. The sea is unforgiving. The Lord grants that nature is our enemy. Only by being like the LORD--serene and unchanging in all weather--can you face the sea.

Now the Pelican pulled up along side the frigate that was going on a straight course. Slowly they got closer to her starboard side. Sam could see the sailors on the other ship. She had an idiot desire to give a friendly wave. The ships were fifteen meters apart going about 5 knots when the sailor wound up and let his line fly. The line landed on flight deck and her Chief and crew started pulling it across, attached was the sound powered phone line and the support line. They passed the sound powered phone line up to the line tenders and Sam. Meanwhile another part of the division was slinging large baglike apparatus on the sides just in case there was a collision--these could reduce scraping; a full on blow would just be a disaster but suction between the two huge ships could happen.

The engineers put the steel cable over the refueling support structure and ran it over to the bulkhead and attached the pelican hook to a ring that was welded to the bulkhead. The pelican hook looked just like a pelican beak when closed except it had a locking ring that slipped over the end to lock it in place. The fuel line was a black coloured heavy gauge rubber 5 inch hose that has a brittle aluminum connector on the end This connector was brittle because if needed, the engineer could take a sledge hammer and break the connection in an emergency. The two engineers attached the fuel line to our refueling connector with the three clamps that are on the end connector. "All secure" the engineer called out to the ship to ship phone talker. Sam cleared her throat and picked up the sound powered phone as though it was no big deal.

"Fueling ready to commence," she said.

Lieutenant Becher glanced at his watch, expressionless.

"One thousand liters, Your Honour" reported the engineer after a while, checking the gaugage.

"One thousand liters, sir," she reported to Becher who nodded to her.

After a bit: "Two thousand liters, sir,"

Another cold little nod. Every superior officer seemed to imitate the style of Admiral Amalek--these cold little nods, terse remarks, sharp comments, cold stares. Would she end up like that? Oh well, she had work to do.

Sam was so caught up in what she was doing that she had no idea what the thoughts of other officers and personnel around her were. The warrant officers or 'mates' were mostly concerned with how many hands they needed to keep the hoses and cables moving effectively, while others were keeping an eye strictly on how close the two vessels were to each other, and still others were watching gauges. Their worlds were narrower even than hers. For Becher, he had to supervise the whole lot, including her and the chiefs, and was under the eye of the Officer of the Watch. The engineering division, down below, kept a careful eye on how much power was given to the ship's propulsion systems to make it possible to accelerate or slow down. The Officer of the Watch was passing on orders and following the captain's policies; the captain and executive officer were busy with making sure that The Admiral's orders were carried out.

This was, short of battle, one of the hardest kinds of operations to carry out at sea. Admiral Count Amalek, observing occasionally with binoculars or listening in on radio signals in the command and information center on NENS Boa knew from his years of experience that this operation, not only risking ships but valuable fuel and the reputation of his fleet, was in the hands of young men and women he had never met, that he had to hope to God proved their training worthwhile now. An intricate little world of ships and the sea. And people wondered why he was such a hard man. His quest for constant perfection was not merely over pique; it was because the enemy and the sea were unforgiving.

[Tericio]

ignore

[Lacus Magni]

Above Histria, Latium
(Co-written with Ghant)

Gunther and Otis sat beside each other in the back of the Chinook helicopter smoking cigars, while Elli tried her best to comfort Princess Theodora. Max meanwhile treated the wounds of Leon’s shoulder. Gunther puffed on his cigar and observed, “we’re not going to be getting out of this easily,” to Otis, not especially quietly either. “If they were gonna shoot at us before, they’ll try to do it again until they can’t try anymore.”

“...Let’s not talk about dis shit Guntha,” Otis countered by pointing his cigar at his comrade. “What’s gonna happen is what’s gonna happen.”

Leon looked towards Theodora while his shoulder was being looked at. The Princess had fallen asleep once the commotion of the city was left behind. He winced from the pain his shoulder caused him. It was the first time he had been shot and it hurt more than he could have imagined. At least she’s safe now, he thought as he caught her sleeping.

While the sky had been relatively clear since they managed to escape the capital that changed once furthest reaches of the city faded away. Behind the Ghantish aircraft, two helicopters wearing Latin markings began to rise up from the small town below. One was an army NH90 helicopter bearing the markers of the 47th Legion. The second, a 212 helicopter of the Scholarian Guard, though it moved slower than its legionary counterpart.

“We have bogies on our tail,” one of the men up front called out. “What should we do?”

“Keep going,” Otis said casually. “They can’t stop us unless they start shooting.” That was what was done for better or for worse, though Gunther did standby to use the minigun just in case the other helicopters proved to be hostile.

The legionary helicopter rose to the level of the Ghantish craft, and crept closer at a steady pace while the Scholarians flew perhaps two-hundred feet below it. Neither helicopter opened fire on the Ghantish helicopter initially, only worked towards flying as close to the aircraft as they could possibly do safely.

Leon pulled away from the woman caring for his shoulder and tried to get a better view of what was pursuing them. It was difficult for him to make out in the night sky, though he knew better than to know they were friendly. “Are you going to fire at them?” Leon asked the one who stood near the minigun. “Don’t think they won’t do the same if they catch us.” And they will catch us.

“Not unless they try to fire first,” Gunther responded gruffly. “We don’t want to give the sons of bitches probable cause now do we? If they were smart they’d just let us be. Let’s hope they’re more stupid than that.”

The two helicopters continued their approach. Leon noticed the legionary markings on the first of the two once it was near enough. The 47 is Michael’s. Though for whatever reason it kept its doors closed. “That’s 47th Legion,” Leon repeated his thoughts aloud. “Michael’s men.”

Otis jumped up from his seat with a grunt and took a long drag of his cigar before stamping it out with his boot. “Fucker’s persistent, I’ll give him that.”

Finally catching up, the legionary helicopter flew right next to the Ghantish helicopter for a time. It offered little indication of its intentions as it stuck to its path. After a few minutes of equal movement with the Ghantish, the Latin helicopter made an erratic move as if it were feigning an attempt to strike a hit at its opponent.

The chinook had to take evasive action in order to avoid being hit by the swerving helicopter, causing the people within it to fly out of their seats. Otis hit his head against the wall and yelled, “bastards, they’re trying to make us crash!”

Gunther was tempted to kick the door open for the minigun but hesitated, merely bracing himself against the wall. “Best hang on tight boys and girls, this is going to be a bumpy ride. Had to figure they weren’t going to make it easy.”

The Latin helicopter stabilized for a moment before again swerving towards the Ghantish helicopter. This time it didn’t come nearly as close. But while the legionary aircraft swerved, the Scholarian followed just at the rear of the Ghantish, aiming to maneuver itself on the opposite side.

The Ghantish chinook struggled to continue with evasive maneuvers, though with the other Latin helicopter closing in on the other side, it was clear that continuing in that manner would be increasingly difficult. The interior of the chinook rattled and shook, causing people to bounce around. “We can’t keep letting these fuckers fuck with us like this,” Gunther called out to Otis. “They’re going to bring us down even it it brings them down with us.”

“Ya know whad I’m thinkin then Guntha?” Otis cracked a grin before clamoring across the floor. “Time ta start shootin.”

“We start shooting, so do they.” Gunther practically lunged across the floor to put a hand on Otis’s shoulder. “Then we’re dead men. They got a lout more out there then we do.”

Otis shook off his comrade’s hand and shouted, “and if we don start shootin, we’re fucked. If I’m gon go down, then I’m gon go down shootin. For the Empire!”

Gunther sighed heavily and shook his head before shrugging. “Fuck it then...for the Empire!” the two men rushed to the flex guns on either side of the chinook and opened the doors for them to aim outside. Honing in on the Latin helicopters on either side of the chinook, they waited until the helicopters tried to get close, and then they would begin firing in an effort to deter them.

The Scholarian helicopter continued to fly alongside the Ghantish, gradually inching closer to its side as those inside watched the doors open across from them. Meanwhile, the Legionary helicopter started another pass. Its own doors remained closed as it took a quick swing towards the Ghantish, attempting to force it to move towards the Scholarian.

As soon as that happened, the Ghantish gunners began to fire upon the cockpits of the helicopters on either side. “Suck on that,” Gunther shouted at them, though he knew that they wouldn’t be able to hear him.

Elli turned her head and stared aghast at the gunners, shouting, “are you mad?”

“A wittle bit pahaps,” Otis cracked a grin as he unloaded on the helicopter on his side.

The Latins were caught off guard. The initial shots whizzed through the side door of the Scholarian helicopter, forcing it to peel off from the Ghantish to avoid sustaining further or fatal damage. The Legionary helicopter wasn’t as lucky. At the moment it swerved closest to the chinook, bullets flew into the cockpit of the helicopter causing it to begin a rapid descent that had all the appearance of being uncontrollable.

“Got ‘em,” bellowed Gunther. “That oughta teach em!” the other helicopter that Otis was shooting at pulled away, prompting him to lay off of it...at least until it tried to get too close again.

Once the gunfire ceased, Leon glanced out of a window just in time to watch the Legionary helicopter fall below the clouds and crash to the earth. While their path seemed clear for the foreseeable future, the Scholarian helicopter continued to follow behind them, at times moving to their side, but not enough to provoke fire - or so they probably hoped.

“Fine shooting. Hopefully that’s the last of them,” Leon said with a sigh of relief.

“I doubt it,” Gunther answered the young Greek nobleman. “They don’t want us to leave and you can bet your Greek ass they’ll pull out all the stops to keep us from getting away.”

“What’d they gon do?” Otis snorted as he leaned off of his flex gun. “They’ve already dug themselves a hole witda shit back atda Embassy. Anything more and they’re purdy much fucked.”

“They might not have a choice,” Leon could hardly understand a word the brute named Otis said. “We...they knew Leo was heading towards Espo before the Princess and I reached the embassy. It could be more danger than it’s worth to reach us at this point.”

“Let’s hope that’s the case, then.” Gunther leaned back from his gun as well and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “What I wouldn’t do for a pack of ice and a bottle of cold brew right now. Weather in this country sucks.”

“Wool at least it ain’t like da Shrai, all humid an shit,” Otis sniggered as he looked out with wary eyes.

Gunther still kept his eyes on the sky, though he did tilt his head and say “be ready...it’s when the situation becomes the most dangerous that a man becomes the most desperate.”

Leon took another look outside, seeing considerable cloud cover as they pressed on forward. The weather began to turn from the peaceful, dark night illuminated by moonlight to one of clouds, thunder and rain. It was difficult to make out what they were flying over at the moment, but he felt they were close. If we’re not, there might be more trouble. “Once we land you’re like to have all the cold beer and ice packs you’d ever want. We must be close by now.”

“...I didn’t take the Emperor’s brother as the drinking type,” laughed Gunther.

“I’ve always thought him a rather gloomy fellow, but I don’t know him all that well,” Leon stated as he stroked over his hurting shoulder. “My point is you’ll be handsomely rewarded, I’m sure.”

Gunther laughed at this and said “the reward is being able to go home and turn on the hockey game with a bottle of cold brew in one hand and my woman in the other…”

For the remainder of their flight, the chinook carried on unmolested - much to Leon’s surprise. And soon a small village to the west of a large river began to enter into vision. The latest intelligence that Leon had taken with him only told him that Leo’s likely destination was Espo or the surrounding area. That was when a single A129 Mangusta attack helicopter began to rise from below and approach them. It’s markings were impossible to read at its current distance, and likely would be until it was close enough to do enough damage to knock them out of the sky.

“Call them in on the radio,” the pilot barked at his co-pilot. “Tell ‘em we’re Ghantish, from the Embassy and that we have Leo’s sister on-board.” the co-pilot nodded and radioed in Leo’s camp to inform them of their identity and of the nature of their cargo.

The Latins radioed back promptly, informing the chinook to follow the Mangusta for three more miles. “...village on the western bank of the Fuscina. Landing site four will be cleared.”

The landing site provided for the Ghantish chinook was located closest to the Fuscina River on the easternmost location of Leo’s camp. There were no typical helipads around, only patches of grass or vacant parking lots that had been spray painted with the appropriate markings. Landing zone four, in particular, was the largest available. It stood atop a large patch of grass, with various barrels, boxes and other supplies stacked up all along the outer edges. Three guards stood at it’s entrance that lead towards the camp, while another ten patrolled or were manning a posting along the opposite end at the river. Two helicopter landing marshalls waited below as a light rain fell.

The chinook landed carefully upon the designated patch of grass, and once it made itself comfortable upon the ground, Otis and Gunther jumped out with their weapons holstered and strapped to their backs. It was Otis who spoke first. “Hiyall, wur’s Prince Leo at? Tellum wur here.”

The other Ghantar emerged in due time, mainly security personnel and members of the special team assigned to the chinook in the event of extraction.

Leon went to wake Theodora after the chinook landed to find her already awake, though huddled in her seat underneath a heavy blanket. “We’re here, Princess,” he offered a hand to help her to her feet. She hesitated, though his next words convinced her to rise. “It’s safe now.”

Together, the Greek lordling helped the Princess walk from her seat to exit ramp of the helicopter. She pushed him off to walk herself, though held her blanket tight over her head and back.

Outside the entrance of the landing site a series of jeeps quickly sped along past the guards. Seated in the passenger seat of the lead jeep was Prince Leo, who wasted no time in leaping from his seat as they came to an abrupt stop. “Where is she?” he glanced at the landed chinook and spun his head around - his long and tied up hair moving rapidly with the movements of his head - as he stood perhaps five feet from the cargo exit of the helicopter. Behind him stood his legates and a handful of other members of his guard.

A legate said something to Leo, pulling his attention for the moment Theodora first appeared from the helicopter. Once she reached the ground, he came into her view. “Sir,” the legate nodded forward.

Leo turned back towards the chinook to see his sister standing still at its base with the Greek lordling standing behind her. She stared at him, breathing heavily as the rain began to fall at a more serious pace. His sister looked near tears with a mixed expression of disbelief and then relief as she loosed her hold of the blanket.

The Prince shared her look, in a similar disbelief that his younger sister stood right in front of him. He took a single step forward before his sister rushed towards him, her blanket fluttering away towards the ground. Before he knew it, she lept into him, wrapping her arms around his neck as his held her up. Tears fell from her face as she nuzzled her face into his collar. They exchanged a few words to each other in what sounded like Greek, but it was near unintelligible to those around.

The Ghantish looked on with faces of gratitude and satisfaction, and then in their own time dropping to one knee before the Prince. It was the co-pilot who spoke. “Your Highness,” he said with his helmet removed. “Great sacrifices were made to rescue your sister and bring her safely here. Many of your countrymen lost their lives in order to get her to safety, including possibly Lord Ambassador Langa. The Marble Palace has fallen, to tank shells at that…”

Leo did his best to keep his composure in front of his soldiers as his sister loosened her hold on him. While no longer hugging him, she refused to let go of him, gripping her older brother’s hand tightly. He thought on the co-pilot's words as he bid him to rise. With a deep breath and flutter of his lip as he took a look down at his feet before he spoke.

“I see. I...my family is very grateful for what you and those who are no longer with us have done to rescue my sister. I will see to it they are honored appropriately for their sacrifices,” Leo looked as if he were personally responsible for everything. “Your name, pilot? And your crew.”

The Ghantish rose to their feet, and the co-pilot answered. “My name is Georgi Larranaga. This fellow next to me is Alec Sardugo. The medics are Elli Omaya and Daniel Arramara. The gunners are Gunther Dargaru and Otis…”

“Jus Otis sah,” Otis interjected politely. “I neva gotta lasname likeya fancy folks. Demwho know me just call me Otis Offal cuza what I eat. I’m from Thule and slim pickins what we got.”

Leo followed along as he learned their names, Theodora still gripping his hand. “Georgi, Alec, Elli, Daniel, Gunther and Otis,” he nodded afterwards in confirmation. “Let’s get out of this rain before we do anything else. And get you to a doctor,” he added to Theodora, planting a kiss on her forehead once he began to walk back towards the jeeps and help his sister into the back seat.

“What about that one?” Leo’s legate, Celsus Fontieus, blurted out with a point to Leon. “He not one of yours?”

Gunther shook his head. “No, that’s the Greek lordling that came with Theodora to the embassy. Got shot in the process. Brave young man.”

Leon hadn’t thought he was disguising himself and was more than used to people already knowing who he was, but he stepped further out away from the chinook’s cargo ramp. But Leo stopped what he was doing to take a good look at him. “Guard, see Lord Leon back to camp. I’ll have some questions for him soon enough.”

“He saved me,” Theodora spoke aloud for the first time the embassy. She wiped a tear from her eyes. “Selene too...they both did.”

“Very well,” Leo looked down to the ground while he bit his lower lip, one leg stepping into his jeep. “His Lordship will ride with us.”

They all watched as Leo’s jeep quickly sped off towards camp in the abandoned village once Leon stepped in. “Anyone wounded?” Legate Fontieus asked while he ensured that the Ghantish helicopter crew found their way to a jeep back to the temporary headquarters.

The Ghantish shook their heads. “None of us...just a little banged up maybe,” Gunther explained. Up close, the man had slick brown hair and rather uniquely had one green eye and one brown eye. Otis had the black hair and golden eyes that marked him for a Thular, while the rest were various shades of brown haired blue eyed southern Ghantish lowborn types.

Fontieus did a double take and squint at the one who spoke to him. “God have mercy, your eyes man. I’ve never seen that on a person before,” the Legate said with a small laugh as he stepped into his own jeep. “Were your parents related or something? I bet that’s where it comes from.”

Another of Leo’s legates, Theophanes Caesulenus, sat in the driver’s seat and rolled his eyes. “Forgive him, if you will. He lacks the certain filter of most. Only God knows why the Prince keeps him around.”

“Oh fuck right off. I know damn well even you’ll want me around when we march on the boy in Castellum,” Fontieus gave Caesulenus a hard shove at the shoulder.

“Not that I’m aware of,” Gunther responded politely. “I’m from Lurberdea as is my father. My mother was from Gahen, more than a province away. All you Latins have black hair and brown eyes, you sure you’re not all fucking your cousins?” he asked facetiously.

Fontieus narrowed his eyes on Gunther before breaking out into laughter. “Ha! I like this one,” the Legate gave the Ghantar a pat on the shoulder. “Drive now, will you please, man. Much more of this rain and we’re all like to catch a cold.”

With all situated, Caesulenus began to drive towards the village as the small caravan of jeeps followed behind him. They came upon their headquarters at what was possibly the town hall before the village had been abandoned. Guards were stationed all around the building’s perimeter, with jeeps and humvees parked in various places between the building and those neighboring, with large tents posted up where ever they would fit.

Together, Legates Fontieus and Caesulenus led the Ghantish into the building. The frame of main entrance was badly damaged, with two large wooden beams wedged into the ground below the upper limits for extra support. The walls inside the town hall were bare of decoration, though the walls indicated pictures and portraits once hung at varying intervals. The Legates then took the party up a flight of stairs and past two closed doors. They finally stopped at what appeared to be the general’s quarters or at the very least an office.

The room was centered around a large table, with two books placed between the one of its legs and the ground to keep it from wobbling over. It was covered in papers, candles, and an assortment of other useful items including a phone. Draped over one of the chairs near the table was a black jacket with gold and light purple trim.

“Can we offer you anything while we wait for the Prince?” Caesulenus asked while a lesser soldier appeared next to him.

“Water would be nice,” Georgi asked. The other Ghantar seemed to be in agreement on this. “Tea if you’re feeling especially generous.”

“What type of tea would you prefer?” the lesser soldier asked the Ghantar.

“Just bring whatever we have, you fool. Tea and water. And some wine!” Fontieus snapped at the young man, who scurried out of the room. “What type of tea he asks, as if we have the luxury for more than a plain black.”

“You mean you don’t have green tea with fresh mints and sugar cubes?” Gunther feigned surprise. “What kind of operation you guys running around here?” he teased.

Fontieus rose his eyebrows and smiled awkwardly at the Ghantar while they waited for the soldier to reappear with their drinks. He took a curious look at the one named Elli for a time, only to be interrupted when the soldier arrived with water, tea and wine enough for the whole of them.

“Thank you,” Caesulenus said to the young soldier who promptly exited. “Please, have all you like.”

“So...while we wait for the Prince, might it be a good time to explain how you came to us,” Fontieus rose to pour himself some wine. He inspected the bottle after taking a drink. “Hmm it’s excellent, this.”

Georgi took the opportunity to explain. “We were assigned to the Marble Palace by the Ghantish Government as a means of providing a speedy extraction of embassy staff in the event of an emergency. We also developed a contingency in which Princess Theodora came to the embassy, which consisted of extracting her to Prince Leo’s camp. It wasn’t exactly hard to find...Ghantish intelligence told us where we could find him.”

“Ah,” Fontieus took a casual seat on one of the other tables in the room. He swished the wine around in his cup, looking down to watch it move.

“That would explain why the embassy was still occupied then,” Caesulenus stated the obvious. “I thought the Emperor asked everyone to move.”

“Seems not, Theo,” Fontieus added as he emptied his cup of wine and took another look over the Ghantish. But he quickly sprung from his slouch to attention when Leo entered the room.

Other than a brief glance at Fontieus’ quick movement, Leo paid little mind to the others while he walked into the room, finally stopping behind the chair with the jacket hung over it. He gripped to back of the chair with a deep sigh, his eyebrows pulled down and his eyes glaring down at the chair. “What happened?”

“Your Highness.” Dropping to one knee, Gregori put a fist to his heart and lowered his head. “Lord Leon and Princess Theodora came to the Marble Palace in a car, running through the Scholarian barricade. They crashed through the gate, and security was alerted to the situation. Her Highness was identified on sight, and escorted into the palace with Lord Leon while a defensive line was formed. The Scholarians crossed into the embassy grounds, and embassy security began to engage them. Lord Langa had Her Highness and Lord Leon escorted to the helicopter, which then took off. The helicopter was fired upon by Scholarian tanks, but none hit, though the Palace was less fortunate. It was blasted and stormed after a good long fight. What happened to Lord Langa and the rest none of the embassy staff is unknown. They had helicopters pursue us and try to cause us to land, but were unsuccessful.”

Leo closed his eyes while the events were explained to him. He let go of the chair and balled a hand into a fist, squeezing it tightly just as Gregori finished. “Those bastards,” he tried to mutter quietly to himself. “Is that all? How was it Lord Leon came to find her, did he have any assistance from you or the Ambassador?”

“I couldn’t tell you about Leon,” Gregori responded politely. “He came with her, and was shot trying to get her to the embassy. She seemed to trust him and he seemed to take her safety seriously. I doubt she would have gotten there without his help. That’s all I know about him.”

“Did he or your sister have nothing to say?” Legate Caesulenus asked Leo.

Leo turned his glare to his Legate, though deep down the Prince knew he was only trying to help. “She has trouble remembering much of the last few nights. All she spoke about were caves, trees, and some girl named Eugenia from the Rubra. And the last I’d heard of Leon was that he was under Michael’s service. I’m sure you, Theophanes, can see just how suspect anything he says may be...no matter how we got to this point.”

“...Have you considered that Leon himself was also a prisoner?” a tall, raven-haired young woman with smooth fair skin and blue eyes wearing a white coat and tall leather boots walked into the upper floor of the building. “Excuse me, your Highness...Eva Gadara, from the Ghish Post. I’ve been around your camp...and I know a thing or two that might help you understand the situation better.”

“Oy, girl. There are no reporters allowed here. You saw that sign outside the building, authorized personnel only.” Legate Fontieus was quick to snap at the reporter. “Christ, what’d you do...wait for guard rotation?”

“Quiet, Celsus!” Leo shouted at his Legate, who was taken aback by the reaction and went onto pour himself more wine. The Prince motioned her to approach with a pull of his hand. Once she did, Caesulenus closed the door. “Speak.”

“I know that your grandmother and Empress Marsella had met with the Greek Lords in Alexandria. You were there too if I recall correctly,” she said to Leo. “Lord Leon’s father was there, and was reluctant to join his strength to Constantine’s cause because his son was held by Michael. Seems to me that Leon was just as much a prisoner as Theodora, and that he helped her escape,” she explained carefully. “If Leon wanted to hurt her he had many chances to do so, and yet he did not, instead delivering her to the Marble Palace against all odds and through enemy territory. You see? Aren’t you glad that I don’t pay attention to stay out signs?” she asked with a grin flashed towards Leo.

“Our latest reports had him serving close to Michael, even on his personal guard perhaps,” Caesulenus curiously added.

“What then...are you saying that he would have been fool enough to both arm a prisoner and then place him in a position to possibly do harm?” Fontieus scoffed at how foolish it would have been. “No. He looks turncloak, I’d say.”

Legate Caesulenus shook his head disapprovingly at his counterpart, who in turn spread out his arms out and explained himself. “What? He does. Think about it, the Ionian gets cold feet when he hears we’re coming. Breaks out Her Highness to get into the victor’s good graces.”

Leo squinted his eyes until they closed, rubbing his forehead with his fingers before they moved on to his temples. He was inclined to believe Ms. Gadara’s thoughts, but whichever way the story went it was clear Leon betrayed Michael - it was only a question of how long it had been his intention. “It’s of no consequence. We are where we are, and my sister is safe,” Prince Leo lifted his head and took a look around the room, his eyes landing on the Ghish reporter. “Gregori, would you and yours be willing to dictate your accounts of the events at the Marble Palace to Ms. Gadara? My sister isn’t ready for another lengthy journey, but we need to get the truth out to everyone. Legate Fontieus will show you somewhere suitable.”

“I will?” Fontieus repeated, nearly spilling wine on himself.

Ms. Gadara coughed slightly into a nearly closed fist. “Unfortunately, last I heard, your brother wants Theodora to return to Ghish as soon as possible in order to relay her story to him and the Privy Council...assuming she was ever released. He doesn’t know yet...nobody in Ghant does right now. Not until I tell them anyway.”

Leaning in the doorway at the entrance to the room, Eva continued. “Apparently, the extent of Ghantish involvement in this war will be determined by what she has to say. If what she tells him doesn’t match what Michael told him, then the consequences will be rather severe for Michael indeed,” she said gravely. “And you know your brother better than I do, but…he seems like a man who’s good for his word.”

“She will return, though not this night,” Leo stated equally as blunt in reply to the reporter. “My brother isn’t here, nor is he aware of her present condition. Theodora will have some real rest and then be on her way. There is nowhere safer in Latium for her than right here.”

Legate Fontieus took the hint that Leo was through talking and set down his wine. “Follow me. Let’s find somewhere secure for this interview,” the Legate told Eva and the Ghantish soldiers.

“The consequences for Michael will be severe...regardless of what my brother’s council decides. You all have my word,” Leo told her before the Legate showed the group out of the room. He began to walk around the table to find some water for himself, but stopped. “And Ms. Gadara, return here before you leave.”

“Of course, your Highness.” Eva curtsied in the Ghantish fashion and turned to leave with Legate Fontieus. “Thank you.” Having said that she left the room in order to go conduct her interview for the Ghish Post.

Fontieus waited outside the door while all the Ghantar funnelled out of the room. Once they had gathered, he led them all further down the hall where to a room that appeared to formerly be the town’s city council. It was fitted for seating of more members than one would expect for a village of it’s size. But most city councils in Latium were often rather bloated unless culled by the county council. Some chairs were turned over, but the room was largely untouched by human hands otherwise.

“This should do. The room is yours for as long as you need,” he said after poking his head into the room. The Legate stood just outside of the entrance while everyone entered, though interrupted Eva when she would try to walk in by blocking it with his arm. “Don’t think what you just pulled will fly in the future, Ms. Gadara. You’re lucky it was he that you walked in on, others may not have been as kind.”

To this, Eva merely smirked. “The mark of a free society, sir, is freedom of the press. That’s one thing that Michael doesn’t have going for him...it would be a shame if others were to follow his example. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a job to do...as I’m sure you do as well.”

The Legate let out a puff of air and a smirk. “Go on then. You know where to find me when it’s time to see His Highness.”

“Indeed I do.” With that, Eva walked past him and into the room with the rest of her fellow Ghantar, and was keen enough to shut the door behind her as she made her way inside. It was there that she conducted her interviews, and produced a story that she would email back to the Ghish Post headquarters in Ghant, to serve as breaking news out of Latium.

While the Ghantish were in the process of their interview, Fontieus had placed a guard at the door while he departed to check-in on his other duties. Luckily, he completed them before they had finished and was able to return in time to see the reporter back to Leo. “All done are we?”

“For the time being, if you must know.” Since the last time they spoke, Eva let her hair down, which now tumbled in thick black waves past her shoulders. She also removed her coat on account of the heat, revealing a shapely form and ample bust that she kept mostly covered with a beige wrap dress that complimented her tall brown knee high leather boots. “Now, if you’d be so kind, sir,” she said to the legate plainly.

“Oh I’m no sir, darling. Or perhaps I am, it’s so difficult to keep track of things with such a beauty in my presence,” Fontieus inspected her rather thoroughly while she removed her coat. Meanwhile, his guard would lead the Ghantish chinook crew towards somewhere suitable to rest. “May I see what you’ve written first? Orders, my dear.”

“His Highness can if he’s so inclined,” Eva smirked. “Orders, as you say. I’m sure his Highness will appreciate the opportunity to see what’s going to be in the international headlines himself.”

“Hmm. As would I,” he grinned at Eva. “It’d be an awful shame if I brought something to my general that he won’t approve of. Surely you can understand that.”

Eva stared blankly at the man for a few moments, before shrugging wistfully. “Fine, have it your way.” she handed him her phone, with a copy of the story that the legate could read.

“I had something else in mind, but it will do. Follow me, Eva,” Fontieus handed the phone back to her with a smile before he led her back to Leo. There were no guards stationed outside of the door, but the Legate knocked at it even still. From inside Leo told him to enter, but Fontieus waited a second longer. “You know, if you’ll be around camp for a while longer I’ll have some free time coming up.”

“I’m sure you have a lot of free time on your hands,” Eva said slyly as she stood by the Prince’s door.

The Legate only smiled to her before he opened the door. “Highness, Ms. Gadara.”

Normally, any one of Leo’s legates would have entered to find him inspecting documents or having a discussion with Strategos Argyros. Though this time he just sat at the head of the table with his back turned to the door. The back of his chair was draped with his uniform jacket, a scabbard and belt hung over one of the ends. “Thank you, Celsus. That will be all for tonight.”

Fontieus dipped his head to a bow, lifting it up to take another look at the reporter. He back stepped out of the room without a word and closed the door behind him. “Did they tell you what you needed?” Leo asked her, still facing away for the time being.

“They told me the truth, your Highness,” Eva said politely in Ghantish, with the door shut behind her. “That’s all I needed. It’s not a hard thing to get, among we Ghantish.”

Leo leaned forward in his chair and looked at her over his shoulder at her. He appeared tired, and not so much like himself. “No...I expected as much,” he also spoke in Ghantish to her. “Your article, no mentions of our movements I hope?”

“See it for yourself, your Highness.” Eva handed the Prince her phone, so he could review the material with his own eyes. “Nothing mentioned of the sort...only what transpired at the Marble Palace. A true tragedy at that.”

“No need. I trust it’s true,” Leo rejected the offer, rising from his seat to hand her back the phone. To someone that might not have known him they may have thought he was uninterested, though he was simply distracted. “I never cared much for that building. It always reminded me of everything I was told I couldn’t be as a child. The first time I remember seeing it...I pretended it wasn’t there. That it was destroyed or something...I might have been all of seven I think,” he smiled faintly for a moment before his face returned sullen. “I never imagined any of this though. The Ambassador...all of those men and women, sacrificing themselves for my sister’s sake. It’s…”

“...an honor,” Eva smiled as she looked for a place to sit down. “I don’t know what you were told you couldn’t be, but in Ghant, you and your sisters never stopped being your father’s children. Your father was much beloved by the Ghantish people, as were you. More than the two by Caroline Zuria.” Once Eva found a place to sit down, she leaned forward a bit, perhaps not aware that doing so showed off more of her cleavage. “You’re a Prince of Ghant, and your sisters Princesses likewise. The country would go to war for you, if it were necessary.”

Tilting her head, she looked at the prince a bit more closely and added softly, “maybe you didn’t like the Marble Palace because it reminded you of something you wish you had, back in Ghant. I think you had it better here. Your brother is a ruin of a man. A good man, sure, but a ruin all the same. Look at you though, leading armies in a Civil War, just like your grandfather. There’s always a silver lining, and blessings in disguise. You just have to train your eyes to see them, and count them once you do.”

Leo leaned back, propping himself against the edge of the table just to Eva’s side. He crossed his arms and took a look down at her to observe his surroundings. “I wasn’t told much, nor did I need to be. The point was clear enough,” he stopped himself before his temper grew when discussing her first point. And even if for a second his thoughts began to mirror those Eva said of his brother, he ignored them and pushed them to the deepest depths of his mind. Instead he tried to force a weak smile. “But aye, perhaps I do.”

“Was it though?” she asked him curiously. “I’m inclined to believe that nothing is truly as it seems, and that men believe what they want to believe, either because it’s easy to believe it or because it makes them feel better,” she explained gently. “There’s always another side to every story, your Highness, if you’re willing to accept the possibility.”

“Not this time,” he stated plainly, looking down to his hands.

“Are you referring to the foul deeds of your cousin Michael?” Eva probed carefully. “I don’t know Marsella Atmos personally, but by all measures she is trustworthy. In any event, Michael will be exposed as a liar soon enough, and then this mummer’s farce will soon be at its end.”

“No...I mean yes, she is trustworthy. But I wasn’t talking about that,” he stammered over himself. ‘Apologies, Ms. Gadara, I’m tired and have far too many things on my mind.”

Eva nodded and spoke sympathetically. “Oh, it is about your Uncle Albert, I suspect. A truly vile man, but one that I would note is loyal to a fault to his family...which you and your sisters are. Sometimes I wonder why he did some of the things that he did, even to my family. I am from Ghish, born and raised, and the man was hard and cruel to us all. Though perhaps in his mind such cruelty was necessary in order to achieve the good that only he could see. I don’t know, I cannot be sure, but as I’ve said, things seemed to have turned out decently enough.” Eva rose from her seat and stood up tall and straight. “I know you’re tired your Highness, and are want for rest. I hope I haven’t given any offense...it’s just that when I look at you I see someone who…” she paused and thought for a moment, “could use someone to talk to that will tell you what you need to hear, not what you want to hear.”

The Prince sighed and lifted his head to look at her. He made his best effort to conceal his gloominess with a smile. “None at all. Thank you...your honesty is very appreciated. I’ll send for someone to see you back safely.”

“Thank you, your Highness.” Eva bowed her head as she curtsied before showing herself out of the room, leaving the brooding Prince alone to his devices...or lack thereof.

[Lacus Magni]

Dowager Duchess of Vindóbona
Castellum

“The boy’s mother continues to call,” privy councillor Flavius Gavius brought up before the others. “Asking to speak with him about his brother. I believe she wishes to work as a mediator between her sons.”

“What have you told her?” the Duchess asked Gavius, not even raising her head from the papers laid out in front of her. The Dowager Duchess of Vindóbona had since taken the lead among Michael’s council following his “recent bout of sickness” or so the council’s story continued to be told. In truth, she had asserted herself at the helm of the council with the help of General Caelius’ soldiers, appointing herself as President of the Privy Council, even attempting to maneuver the role of Lord High Chancellor away from the Emperor’s young lover Antonia Frontalia.

“Only what you’ve instructed, Your Grace. But she’s concerned for him and offering up that he is taken by illness doesn’t help any. Perhaps it would be wise to have her serve as a mediator...to settle things peacefully,” Gavius stammered out like the coward he was.

The Duchess never held the man in high esteem, having come to know him over the years she sat on her late cousin’s council. Gavius had never held a Great Office of State, but he managed to hold some confidences of the Emperor Jason, having been appointed a councillor in 2009. Though he had been around in some capacity since as early as 1999. She even recalled hearing some notion that he was nearly appointed to serve as Count of the Imperial Estate, obviously Jason’s wisdom won out there for a change.

Duchess Maria, for her part, sat on her cousin’s council from 1998 through 2000, until she was forced out - or so she perceived - by her cousin’s shameless new wife Marsella. Augustulus and his Augustula, she thought. Her own relationship with her cousin was strained during the those years and likely would have remained so if she never rose to Conservative Party leadership and later a consulship. It forced her back to the council in 2013, and in a greater capacity than any other member. That too was short lived.

“And no one will tell her more than what we, here, have decided she should be told,” Maria picked her head up from the papers and leaned back. “Zoe is weak willed and foolish above all else, she won’t prove to be a problem. I won’t allow her to destabilize all that we have achieved so quickly in these few days. What of the Histria business, Lord Commander?”

“Unsuccessful, Your Grace,” newly appointed Lord Commander of the Scholarian Guard, Julus Maecilio, said unapologetically to the Duchess. “As expected.”

“You’d be wise to lose the tone next time, my Lord,” the Duchess was displeased with the man’s response. “The fault of the Gentry girl’s escape or the fiasco that occurred in the immediate is not yours…”

“...However, the failure to force a landing or even crash them lies solely with you,” Master of Soldiers Jordan Caelius added.

Caelius had become Vindóbona’s number two since they had removed Michael from any decision making role. In a perfect world, she’d have liked to do away with him as well, but his soldiers are far to loyal to him for now, she thought. In time she hoped she would.

“Perhaps if you would have allowed our men to actually, oh I don’t know, shoot at them we’d have already recovered their corpses and sent the wretched whore back to Ghant is a casket,” Maecilio tilted his head and bit his lip. “I will take no blame when my hands are tied.”

“And perhaps if you had any foresight you’d have seen that firing upon that helicopter would place us in a deeper bind than we already find ourselves,” Maria snapped at the Lord Commander.

“If you had made me awares of these plans, I may have better been able to accomplish out my task, Your Grace,” there was a sense of contempt in the man’s voice. “But you did not, and are now upset because your restraints caused failure.”

“Your job is to follow orders, whether your are let in on the why is irrelevant. If that helicopter hit the ground, the Ghantish would demand to know why, would they not?” she posed to the balding, red headed Scholarian. He nodded in agreement. “And when they, or more likely their Edomite handlers, arrive at the crash site, what do you think would be better for us in this room? Hmm...that they find the debris and indications it was fired upon, or that they simply couldn’t handle the weather or winds and crashed through no fault of ours?”

The whole room was silent until the Duchess ceased her lecture of the Scholarian commander, and even for sometime after until Senator and leader of the Popular Social Party John Synnodus spoke up. “Not as if any of that matters now,” the ultra-nationalist, right-wing senator spoke up. “She’s likely reached Ghish by now. They’ll come with force now.”

He had a curious attractiveness to him, Duchess Maria had sometimes found herself thinking. He had a smooth, light olive skin with no sign of any blemish. He was slim, yet muscular with an appealing face, though for all the benefits of his looks, he was an utter ass who rarely had much to offer Maria outside of lust. And what good is that to me now? We would have been better served if cousin banned the populists like I told him.

“Might be they turn the Edomites against us,” councillor Gavius added in. Though per his usual offered nothing of substance, only foolish remarks.

“What do you think, Tribune? Surely you find it all very interesting,” Maria ignored Gavius and Synnodus, turning instead to Tribune of the People Jordan Clementus. He was a young man, one that had risen high since Pompilius stole her consulship, yet another man of unremarkable talent or skill. Pompilius surrounded himself with sycophants to easily step on.

“A complete bore, if you must know,” Clementus still looked uninterested in the discussions, just as he had since Caelius extended the invitation to the Tribune to join the council after Michael’s confinement. With the Senate on recess at the time of Jason’s death, only those who represented constituencies in the capital were present, placing them in a most difficult situation. “I have been unable to leave the city since Emperor Jason’s death. And I would have been unable to see my wife or children, were it not for me to acquiesce and make various public appearances. I’m no fool, I understand full well why I’ve been kept here and unable to leave.”

He paused for a moment, almost waiting for the Duchess to open her mouth to speak before he continued. “Though the previous senate has been dissolved by His insightful Majesty, the People’s Tribune still holds assembly or petition,” he at least rose from his lean and took his palm off his face. And how lucky us the Tribune lives in the capital. “Perhaps if we talked about opening the Felixian Gates, then I might be inclined to show interest here and at assembly.”

“You have been invited to help us govern. And you’ve since been reunited with your family, I’m told,” the Duchess stated facts as one of Caelius’ soldiers entered the room and began to approach her. “I have shown you nothing but good will since I came to head this council, I would be much appreciative if you would reciprocate, Tribune. You knew your duties when you accepted your tribunate. I know the difficulties of the role as well as you.”

The Tribune’s previous unmoving face turned sour, near pouty look. It prompted Maria to snap at him before he had the chance to do the same to her. “Don’t pout here, Jordan. I have already raised six children, I do not wish to battle with a seventh while I work.”

“Open the Felixian gates then,” the Tribune demanded. “Lift the curfews. I heard at assembly, the other day, of a family who was unable to reach the food doles. I’m sure they were not alone in that.”

“Until the rebellion is put down and the country is at peace, the gates will remain closed,” the Duchess stated. The Felixian gates were a series of gates located on the Felixian Wall, which themselves were the walls constructed around the medieval city of Castellum, though now separated the inner city from the outer boroughs and districts. While the walls were hardly more than a tourist attraction in some areas and hardly considered functional without some sort of upgrade, which Master of Soldiers Caelius had sent the Duchess’ son, Adrian, to oversee.

“At the very least until Kallipolis is secure, though with the events from Sorrentia…most likely longer” General Caelius added. “We need to strictly control every person who enters or wishes to enter.”

The soldier finally reached the General Caelius. The young man appeared out of breath, though whispered into the Master of Soldiers’ ear all the same. The general’s face allowed for little to interpret the soldier’s words. As curious as she was, the Duchess let it be for now.

“At the very least,” the Duchess echoed before closing the meeting. “And I think that will be all for now.” The councillors and generals allowed to sit in began to funnel out of the council room. But Master of Soldiers Caelius lingered.

“Your Grace, a word if I may?” he waited until they were alone. The Duchess nodded to one of the guards at the door, who then exited and shut the door behind him.

“Michael I take it. What this time?” Duchess Maria stood facing the general with her arms crossed and head titled.

“Again, Your Grace. He managed to overpower...but he’s secure now,” Caelius said to her, taking not of her look of surprise. “One dead for certain, another seriously wounded. This is the second time he’s attempted something like this, and we were lucky the first time no one was seriously hurt.”

“Shall I double his guard?” he looked closely at Maria due to her lack of response.

She shook her head and wagged a finger. “No, we shouldn’t draw any unnecessary attention to this. Very few know the truth, the more we involve...the further we expose the truth.” And we mustn't’ destroy the illusion, she thought to herself. “Who’s that officer...the medic we spoke of the other day. Antonia was it?”

“...Uh, yes,” Caelius wracked his brain to recall the one. Old man must have confused his Antonias. “Dr. Antonia Vera I believe. You...you aren’t suggesting what I think?”

“I find that I am having a great trouble falling and staying asleep,” the Duchess grinned, finding herself to be clever. “I’m sure I look weary rather often don’t I, Jordan?”

The general nodded. “My children have ailments as well, they are children after all,” Duchess Maria grinned. “I have need of an expert, Dr. Vera is an expert. Set up a meeting, and have her bring some samples. Let’s see if we can’t find something to help me sleep and calm down a child.”

[Tericio]

ignore

[Lacus Magni]

Ravenna

“Sir,” the young officer saluted the Strategos. “We have reports of more enemy scouts as far south as Augustonium and Faventia.”

“And don’t forget the Chacanos along the coast,” a second officer chimed in, adding no further value to the discussion.

Of course I remember the bloody Chacanos on the coast you fool, Strategos Marcus Iccius thought. “And the bridge along the Raedavea’s 90th?” He had been appointed commander of all Emperor Michael’s forces in Ravenna and even Catepan of all His Majesty’s Armed Forces in Hellas. Though there was no more hollow of a title than that. The bastard squatting in Espo has all of my armies.

“Well, sir,” the first officer began to explain. It didn’t appear like he had good news. “There was a minor skirmish along the north side.”

“Did you or did you not destroy the bridge? That’s all I want to know,” the Strategos began to grow angry.

“We did...sir. Three men were stranded on the other side, however.” He shooed the minor officers away after that

The odds had been growing against him and what armies he had, even more so since the idiotic display at the Ghantish embassy. The thought of defecting had crossed his mind more than once, and at a growing rate since that day. The men wouldn’t have it, was always one of the conclusions that normally fell upon him - others having to do with reputation and possible disciplining. Throughout the whole order, and even the unsuccessful repelling of the invasion in Sorrentia, Strategos Iccius continued to follow his orders.

Instead of making a move against the rebel forces under control of the Latino-Ghantish prince, as a select few urged, he moved towards Ravenna, where he began to fortify the area from any would be invaders. They had ample time to do so, some business in or near Espo managed to further delay the armies out of Hellas for a little while longer. It would give them more time to hunker down and make Ravenna absolute hell to pass through, if they were even able to pass through.

“What if we began to make some minor incursions inland?” one of his legates, Aulus Maevius, asked once the Strategos was alone in his headquarters with only his legates. Normally he was one of the more sensible of Iccius’ officer, hence his higher standing over the other legates as Legatus Evocatus. “The Chacanos are few in number, and unlike to be able to…”

“That won’t work,” another Legate cut Maevius off. “These skirmishes from the north are becoming far too numerous. They’re close...or will be close soon. We have a good defensible position right here. Let them come I say.”

“Then why not send, say, a mixed legion of infantry and recon south. We split them into small teams, give them civilian vehicles, clothing, you name it. Stock them up with rocket launchers, IEDs, you name it. Others of the mixed legion can remain uniformed and meet up with our armor to corral the enemy deeper into Sorrentia instead of fixating along the coast,” Maevius tweaked his suggestion enough to make it nearly workable. “It should

“We can fit some of the trucks and SUVs around the city with MGs and rocket launcher,” the second legate offered up. “They’d have the benefit of speed as well. Likely even fair better than some of the armor that we have to stall the Chacano advance.”

“Step up the propaganda as well,” Iccius added. “Maybe we can supplement the ununiformed legions with the locals if we’re lucky enough. I’ll see to that we recieve more air cover and support from Castellum. And that if we can’t get the Edomites to move against the Chacoans once the Alexandrian fleet meets up with them.”

“Shall I see to sending a legion out, sir?” Maevius asked his Strategos, who nodded and promptly walked out of the room.

---

To: Queen Mara and King Elijah IV of New Edom
From: Constantine XX of Latium
Subject: Re: Support
Encryption: Highest

Your Majesties,

It has come to my, and my cabinet's attention, that Your Government has offered assistance to my younger brother in his attempt to prop himself up as the legitimate Sovereign of Latium. Whatever reasons you may have had to prompt this support of an illegitimate government led by my younger brother, I cannot hope to know; however, it is my hope, that I may persuade you, and others, to do otherwise.

It is no secret that my younger brother has cobbled together some semblance of a government. The majority of those members happen to be major dissenters of previous governments, including from what I am told the leader of the far-right ultranationslist Popular Social Party, John Synnodus. But as the world has seen at the Marble Palace in Castellum, it is no stable government, with its very officers and office holders contradicting one another in an effort to deflect the blame from one another until it sticks on the one individual who's turn it is to fall on the sword.

During that time, I have assembled a majority of the Senate, the legitimate government of Latium, in my temporary Imperial Seat. It wasn't all that long ago, I announced my father's last will and testament on a live television broadcast. This was the true will of my father, as presented to me by Lord Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Latium, Comitas Funar, and was later certified by Consul Alexander Pompilius and a binding majority of the Senate. Contrary to traditions, I had signed an order to see the will posted online for all citizens to see for themselves immediately following my initial reading.

For all the great deeds done throughout his reign, my father often neglected or paid little mind to the world outside of Acheron. It is my desire, after the fighting ends, to see to it that favorable policies and relationships reach further than Acheron. In achieving that end, my government requires not just your assistance, but also the assistance of the larger international community in these struggles. The Imperial Offices are, as always, open for any inquires, further communications or appointments - as are the Consul's. I hope that you will consider all that I have said and we may begin discussing the cessation all assistance to my younger brother's illegal government.

God Bless,
Constantine

[New Edom]

Fineberg, New Edom

In a chamber in the Palace of Justice which had marbled patterned floors and ornate haranese rugs over that, wtih molded arches and emblems of Christian themes and flowers, the Council of Ministers and senior advisors, officials and reprensetatives of the Chamber of Deputies had formally met, with a bishop administering an oath of peace among them. This was bit by bit becoming more formal, less vital, but the vitality lurked beneath the surface. If this government failed, it would be bloodshed again.

"The question before us," said Dr. Marius with a show of being earnest, 'Is primarily this: is the Queen able to run the state at the moment?" he put up a hand. "Please indulge me. She has recently given birth, and at a time of great struggle in the Region focuses instead on visits to Edenist friendly nations. Other activities seem to...depress her. There is, from the point of view of my party, no need to talk of whether she is fit to sit on the Throne or not. The question is: is she suitable to lead at the mment?"

"This question is agreed to by the majority of the Chamber," said Dr. Christina Delmar of the Peace and Harmony Party, a scholarly woman wearing glasses. Sarah Carmel and Claudius Glaber both nodded. It had been agreed after much argument to make a show of force.

"According to reports by Dr. Melchizedek, who heads the Queen's health team," said Prince Enoch calmly flipping through the folder though he sethed within, "The Queen is suffering naturally from what is referred to as post partum depression but is managing it extremely well. We anticipate no worries with this."

"The Queen is ill then," said Dr. Campion.

"I have had three children, I never suffered that," joined in sarah Carmel.

"You had children? I thought they just walked out of a cave somewhere and put on some white nad lbue paint," said Lalery.

"Very funny," sneered Carmel. "From a man with no legacy, no wife, no military record, barely a man at all and yet discussed as fit to lead the Council."

Lalery's face darkened. "Listen you..."

"Peace," snapped Prince Enoch. "Are we children? Is there anything further about the Queen's Majesty?"

"Yes. With the King still ill" said Dr. Campion, "I would like to know if we can shore up the Queen's authority."

"With what?" asked Prince Enoch.

"A regency until the King makes public appearances again, which will act as..." began Campion.

There was an uproar at this.

"I know exactly what you're about to say and I don't like it at all..." said Carmel.

"That establishes Princess Jocasta as Vice-Queen," proposed Dr. Campion. "So that there is visible level headed leadership. My party intends to formally propose this as a measure of the constitution and sugests that Council of Ministers and legal advisors cooperate with us to make a formal submission to the government in general."

"With all due respect, Dr. Campion," said Count Lalery, "I don't think that's a good idea. When the princess was regent before, her inexperience really showed; I think she needs more time. i think we would do better to focus on the appointment of a President of the Council. I am happy to sand under whoever serves to keep the government united and operational."

The senor deputies looked surprised.

"What trick is this?" Carmel barked.

"It's remarkably patriotic of you, Count," said Dr. Delmar, raising her eyebrows.

"It is simply my duty." said Lalery.

---

"Clever of you," said General Nicanor as he and Count lalery washed their hands side by side in a sink in the men's room.

"What was, General?" asked Lalery, glancing at the heavy featured puanchy but strong man in uniform beside him.

"Distracting the Chamber with the issue you fed to Campion..."

"I fed an issue to Campion? Hardly that," said Lalery. "I just told him what might happen if the Queen were still ill along with the King."

"And then twisting Carmel and Delmar around with your pious refusal." Nicanor washed very thoroughly. He shook his hands and dried them on a clean bright white towel and tossed it into a basket. "Do you know they have these machines in Novitera and some other places that dry your hands for you like robots?"

"They're called hand driers," said Lalery, reaching for a towel himself.

"Remarkable," said Nicanor, sprinkling some scented powder on his thick nailed rough old hands. "But also clever in this too: you have tried to conspire with Geta and Ashdod to conceal Constantine' sletter from me, while trying to keep all your eggs in one basket."

Llalery looked at him. "That's close to being an insult, General."

"Spare me. Geta is my man," Nicanor said, his eyes glinting amid folds of flesh. "So you possibly hoped I would know or hoped I would not know, but it doesn't matter. Michael is the rightful Emperor."

"We have to wait for that investigation" said Lalery. "The Ghantish have stressed that."

"The Ghants," said Nicanor, "would do so, they favour Constantine. Well you know, I have advised that the Chamber should consider your relations with Ghant and it's imperial family, which seems to unduly influence you away from what should be done to keep the peace of the region and the interests of our country. Constantine is too late. We go forward."

"You are not President yet," said Lalery. "You're old, Nicanor You're fat. Fat old men often just take ill and can't do well for themselves."

Nicanor eyed him like an old crocodile. "Yes, you are young, strong, handsome, you control the purse strings...somewhat. Do you know, though, you don't control all of that. I saw Beroth before the meeting today, and saw the Queen. I have the green light to advance the fleet into Latium."

Lalery clenched his fist. "And I have the green light to advise Constantine that we will consider mediation and investigation first."

"Then you had better get that done quickly." Nicanor put on his kepi. "And do not think of warning Constantine even in joke or hint. Sinful blasphemous men who are born to great wealth and family are not well thought of by some in this country. Some might think that they are less fit for office thant hose who earned their way and fought for it."

"Without the funds, your whole department is nothing, your part of the country is nothing," snapped Lalery. "Screw with me and I'll send you back home a forgotten old has been, everyone will beg me to fire you."

Nicanor gave him a pitying look. "The official letter has already been sent. Go to Ghant, plough your substitute mother. Stay out of my way."

Lalery grabbed at his arm but found that beneath the fat, Nicanor was like grabbing an ox. The old man chuckled. "Yes, you're rough and tough--in a gymnasium, boy." Unexpectedly a hard, thick hand grabbed Lalery's hand and forced it back. He held it for a moment while Lalery tried to claw it away, his black eyes anrrowing in rage. "Thse hands strangled a Jedorian in a foxhole, boy. Try another tactic next time."

Lalery managed to shove himself away, panting, and Nicanor took off one of his campaign medals. "Here. This is for Damoclea. You were what...twenty three at the time? Old enough to have been there. You can pretend you were now, my gift to you." with that he left.

Lalery was shaking with fury and in a fit of rage smashed the sink off the wall and watched water pooling on the floor. A n attendant rushed in at the noise, saw Lalery standing there, breathing like a steam engine, and fled the room.

To:Prince Constantine of Latium
From: Queen Mara I
Subject: Imperial Succession
Encryption: Most Secret, Eyes Only

---

My dear Constantine

I am very sorry for your losses, and I am very sorry that things have come to a violent pass. I wish that there were some other solution, and indeed I am exploring them. I hope that there can be some clarity as to what has taken place.

As far as we understand it, there are two wills, but one appears to have been pronounced the true will of yoru late father. This will, we understand, was the one which was read honouring Michael, whom we now acknowledge as Emperor of the Latins.

Of course, I do not pretend we are infinitely wise. I would be glad to consider what other particulars are involved with this, but you see no one from our government was spoken to nor invited to any inquiry with you, whereas the opposite happened with Michael. And while one of your new allies, the republic of Gran Chaco, is an honourable nation, we are worried about your alliance with an anti-Christian nation, Jedoria, which deliberately persecutes Christians. This aggressive fascist state is as dangerous as Rietumimark and we cannot in conscience side with such a nation.

We are happy however to entertain negotiations with yourself, your officials and whomever supports you from the Empire of Ghant or the Republic of Gran Chaco.

I am
Mara the First
Queen of the Allied States

[Vorindeum]

“The Old Admiral”
The Tempesta

The waters that comprised the Tempesta Ocean seemed rather tame, at least compared to the last Vorindese foray into Cornellian waters. The fleet gathered in Vorindeumstadt, organizing men and supplies as Emperor Albert and his minions saw the fleet off, sailing back into the east, in the direction of the Empire of Latium where their mission was to take place.

Admiral Beatus Gerlach had the honor (or misfortune) of leading the Vorindese fleet to Latium, to serve the will of Emperor Albert once again. This time however, two things were different: the Emperor would not be present, as he had other arrangements, and this campaign was likely to be far more perilous then the one previously committed against CSAT.

Admiral Gerlach himself was a far cry from the mighty Iron Eagle. A man of sixty, Beatus had wispy grey hair, a high-bridged nose and coffee colored eyes that sat in a weathered, though friendly face. Once a tall man with broad shoulders, he was more hunched over now, but not appearing undignified. He had the look of an old man, and like most old men, he couldn’t find the energy to get worked up about things the way he used to.

There were those that thought that Beatus should retire to spend more time with his wife, children and grandchildren, but Beatus himself refused the notion, and his decision to remain was supported by the Emperor. It was said that Beatus had a certain edge to him, a steel that did not bend and would not break, and supposedly, that’s why the Emperor entrusted Beatus with this particular command. The old admiral knew how to win but wasn’t afraid of death or defeat.

The old admiral didn’t ask too many questions about the assignment…it seemed simple enough. The enemies weren’t really aware that the Vorindese were coming, and more than likely were not prepared to deal with them. They had the element of surprise, and had built up enough political capital in Cornellia to presumably cross through the Tempesta into the east undisturbed. The Shrai were the ones that were in the best position to interfere with the Vorindese fleet, but the Shrai owed them a favor, so why would they bother?

These ships were relatively new, and still had that fresh smell about them. The floors, walls and ceiling of the interiors were clean and polished, the tables freshly carved wood with that hint of finish still upon them. Unlike the Emperor, Admiral Gerlach did enjoy a little light music of classical persuasion, and so he had a record playing on his old record player that he kept beside a small table in his office upon which pictures of his family sat.

The large table at the center of the room, at which the admiral was seated, featured a map of Latium and the surrounding lands and bodies of water. Perhaps Beatus was unique in that he didn’t particularly care about Latium, or its feuding Princes Constantine and Michael, or the nations that supported either faction. That wasn’t what Emperor Albert was interested in either, despite the fact that he was initially prompted by the Imperium to consider backing Michael’s cause.

In the Admiral’s mind, the politics were irrelevant. Though he never dared admit it, he was afraid that when the Vorindese Senate elected Albert as Emperor to the heirless Imperator Septimus Lexus, that the ways of the scheming Ghantar would come to dominate Vorindeum. Not so…the Iron Eagle held a personal disdain for politics, finding it to be the craft of women and weak men. Needless to say, the Emperor’s personal beliefs resonated with the Vorindese.

Looking at the map more closely, Admiral Gerlach poured himself a glass of white wine to enjoy to the sounds of his vinyl record. He had to be careful, as he didn’t want to spill it on his neatly pressed and impressive white uniform. The phase of the campaign at sea was the most difficult stage. Inland, things would be far easier, assuming that part of the campaign was initiated at all. Emperor Albert took great pains to stress how he wanted things done, and under the air of secrecy. So far, it seemed that none, not even the Ghantish or the Edomites were aware of their plans.

That was one question that Beatus did actually ask him the last time they had spoke in person. “Why are these plans not being corroborated with the Edomites?”

The Iron Eagle’s answer was straightforward, Beatus recalled. “Why should I, when they haven’t corroborated theirs with me?” Such was the Gentry way…what the eagles gave was what they got. The admiral could respect that, though he found their strict sense of often petty principles to be a fatal flaw among their house that could cause them trouble in the times to come.

Beatus was sure to inform his commanders to make sure that the men maintained discipline at all times, that they performed their duties with a most severe disposition and that they trained and maintained their equipment as time and circumstances permitted. The Vorindese, unlike the Ghantar of the Emperor’s homeland, were a warlike people who even before the Iron Eagle arrived had endeavored to remain on the cutting edge, on the forefront of modern military techniques and technologies. In the time since the last Edomite Civil War, this war machine was put to the test against CSAT, but now came the true test.

That test would come soon enough. Admiral Beatus Gerlach, in the meantime, was content with his wine and music in the otherwise large and silent personal office that he kept to himself in, only to be disturbed in the vent of something urgent that commanded his personal attention. Otherwise, he had people to deal with the problems that might arise in the Tempesta, where many a great naval commander had once treaded. So it was that the old admiral bid his time, in the comforts of his private space.

[New Edom]

Carrier Task Force Boa

They that go down to the sea in ships, That do business in great waters;

These see the works of Jehovah, And his wonders in the deep.

For he commandeth, and raiseth the stormy wind, Which lifteth up the waves thereof.

They mount up to the heavens, they go down again to the depths: Their soul melteth away because of trouble.

They reel to and fro, and stagger like a drunken man, And are at their wits' end.

Then they cry unto Jehovah in their trouble, And he bringeth them out of their distresses.

He maketh the storm a calm, So that the waves thereof are still.

Then are they glad because they are quiet; So he bringeth them unto their desired haven.

Oh that men would praise Jehovah for his lovingkindness, And for his wonderful works to the children of men!
--Psalm 107

The advance towards the Latium coast and to Ravenna was led by NENS Blasco. The Blasco was a Casso Class frigate commanded by the ageing Commander Simeon Ephod. He wheezed often and stumped around, sometimes with his mouth open as he gasped for air. However he seemed to be an excellent navigator and the crew who had been aboard before the flight crew admired him apparently. He had sent up the Sea Lakota helicopter to observe as they began, at last, their approach towards the Latium coast. The two young officers who commanded the flight operations had done a circular sweep around the advance of the fleet. Their names were Jacob Alkonah and Martha Ezar. They were both lieutenants, had been friends in flight school, then reunited for service with the Blasco.

The fleet also had four Terrier VTOL fighters flying patrol about fifty kilometers away forward from the fleet, one Schiebel-10 drone for both the destroyer and the LHD, another Sea-Lakota assisting with anti-submarine warfare dipping, and a CFHQN-1 Kite drone, a rotodyne machine, operated by two naval intelligence officers on the Boa. The machine could track sea as well as land targets.

With howling screams, Terrier VSTOL fighters were rising off the decks of the LHD surrounded by a haze of heat vapours, like knights of the air the pilots taking off across the water and into the sky. Commodore Eglon was envious of them, their clear simple purpose, but his lot was now to be the Air Squadron Commander. Of course his rank was the result of all he ha d achieved, by God's grace, but sometimes how Eglon loved this. Plane after plane flashed off in a broad fan towards the coastline.

Sixteen Terriers were sent out in flights of four: Cardinal Flight, Bluebird Flight, Bunting Flight and Plover Flight. Lieutenant-Commander Pabadakis, Lieutenant Schlossel, Lieutenant Zebedee, and Lieutenant Shams were in command of them respectively. In flight command deck on the tower she watched their positions, heard the muted chatter of reports, laconic voices around him. How did the pilots all become so damned young, Commodore Eglon wondered, envying them. Plover Flight was currently up, replacing Cardinal which had been up.

Therefore the SATCOM information was programmed into the CROMWELL II battlenet. For now the Terriers stooped high, moving up to cloud cover for the time being until the assault was ready. They had been armed with AIM-120s for air to air purposes, ready to do battle with enemy air cover and sweep it from the skies to protect their allies.

Klaxons were blaring around the destroyers. Decks were being cleared, readiness for missile launches were being declared. With awful purpose, missile racks soullessly moved the long slim deadly tubes up towards their launch positions. Up in CICs and weapons rooms quiet young men and women with focused nearly robotic responses like they were reciting prayers spoke in announcements of their targeting calculations. It was vitally important that the launches be timed properly. This was when a fleet was very vulnerable to enemy attacks.

Captain Dorian Lardis was commanding the destroyer, the Gideon; a chunky unheroic looking man with a meaty face and beady eyes like a capybara’s; he was however a canny, shrewd officer who had been commanding a frigate before being given a destroyer and then ordered to escort the protective mantle of the fleet towards their new friends. Now this unromantic figure had the task of protecting the fleet against any enemy ships or air attacks in tandem with the CAP.

In the lower decks of the Nass, soldiers of the 4th Marine Infantry Regiment crossed themselves as they looked at the pictures of the Heir they had in the different bunk areas in the lHD. Her clear light brown eyes, her dark rich lush hair in its beautiful coils around her heart shaped face, the swell of her young high bosom in a light red gown, the hint of her womanly hips whose girth defied the chair she sat in. To the young Damoclean soldiers, she seemed a vision of erotic and holy beauty. She had saved them from their heathenism and communism, the spirit of Christ was in her. Each imagined (without any basis in fact) being rewarded one day with a little touch, or however distant a dream, a brief moment at least between her gorgeous thighs. Male and female alike; it was hard to get hat out of them. They were all eager for combat. Fighting and training were all the real escape they had. The officers and NCOs were worried about what they’d do with vulnerable civilians and gave them repeated warnings and beatings at even the hint of a desire to rape when they got into an occupied territory. They also warned them of the fearful treatment they’d get at rebel hands. Rumours of castration and impalings were the more visceral and common ones.

Captain Joseph Lucas’ F Company was one of the units that would be going ashore first, and he was his usual meticulous self.

“Good luck, Captain,” said Major Oren, the adjutant, bowing to him.

‘Thank you very much, sir,” said Lucas. “I hope we do get to go ashore and link up with our allies.”

They were aware that they could be horribly outnumbered. 1200 Marine Infantry against division after division of rebel and foreign troops. However even if they were Damocleans, every man and woman of them were superbly trained with the best modern rifles, communications equipment, transport, heavy weapons and munitions money could buy. The regimental system had knocked all but the cultural nonsense out of them. Every NCO and officer was a veteran and experienced in command.

Bright sunny sugar sand beaches. What could be better?

The Marine Infantry would be deploying out of the hovercraft if need be as well as equipped with M20 Hamsher APCs, M28 Vigilo Recon vehicles and a platoon of LT-10 Phorusrhacos light tanks. If safe to simply dock they would do that, however. The frigate was to cover the approach of the LHD.

As the frigate began to approach the coast, a radio message was sent out by a previously established code link to Strategos Marcus Iccius.

"This is the New Edomite Carrier Task Force Boa communicating to . We request permission to approach your port and to dock at an available pier for disembarking a landing force. We also will be escorted by one of our utility...ah... helicopters and would like to also request that two of our landing craft should approach and disembark two companies of Marine Infantry. Once ....ah...I have been established in port the I would like to make direct contact with you and ..ah...plan operations and receive intelligence in this area."

[Lacus Magni]

Pompilius
Domus Agrippae
Adrianople, Latium

The seat of the Emperor's Ducal ancestors sat in the hills just to the northwest of the city, technically outside of the ever expanding city limits. It was perhaps a forty minute drive from the temporary Senate chambers and offices found in the center of the city near the forum, something that was becoming an annoyance to many members of the Senate and its leadership that the Emperor often required counsel, advice or assistance from. And now the entire Cabinet had been gathered for an emergency meeting at the young Emperor Constantine’s Adrianople home.

It was only the second time since the death of Emperor Jason that the whole cabinet was meeting, and even then the first time they’d be gathered at the palace. Upon arrival, the senators were shown to the major ballroom. The Consul had heard it was a more expansive room than the Grand Dining Hall where all of his previous meetings with the Emperor had taken place, but had yet to lay eyes upon it.

A bit over the top, were his first thoughts when finally shown the room. It was bright, so bright, with the sunlight bouncing off the white walls and catching the gold decorations all along the wall and window frames. A look up and you’d find a vast biblical portrait glaring down at you. There were clouds, blue skies and angels flying about, but due to Pompilius’ private leanings and religious inclination, could hardly make out what the scene was depicting. With the entrance in the center of the ballroom, tables were spread all throughout for staff and aides, with a larger for all the attending ministers of His Majesty’s government. At a turn to the right, towards the center of the entire complex was the physical seat of the Dukes of Adrianople. It mimicked the throne room in Castellum. Or perhaps Castellum mimics theirs, the Consul considered that the Claudii were the first Kings of Latium before losing their throne once before.

The Emperor wasn’t present at the moment, but the Consul was hardly the first person from government to arrive. His sole remaining Tribune, Alexandra Sulpicia, stood over the central table, surrounded by some of her staff. She still dresses like Jason Augustus never even left us, he recalled the rumors surrounding her during her time as a collegiate intern at the palace. “Alexandra,” the Consul said in a drawn out tone to greet his Curiate Tribune.

“Morning, Consul,” Suplicia shook his hand and wore that same false, forced smile she always gave him. She held contempt for him, he knew that the moment he crushed her in the final round of leadership voting. As comely a woman she appeared and as dutifully she carried out her job, her eyes always gave it away. “He’s really putting out his best for this one isn’t he?” the two shared a small smile before she went back to her papers and he began walking away. “Seems a bit like overkill to me...the entire cabinet.”

“Perhaps so,” Pompilius threw out his charming country smile with a pat on her shoulder. Entering just after him was his Home Secretary, John Pollius, and Foreign Minister Isaakos Kontostefanos. Pollius was man nearing his sixties, gray of hair in the few places it still sat upon his head, with a plump stomach and dull eyes. Pollius was nearly eight years the Consul’s junior when it came to service in the Senate, and was someone who had an excellent working relationship with. Kontostefanos was someone Pompilius had been considering to fill the vacant Century Tribunate, but with Clementus’ status unknown to nearly all others, he was beginning to look like a possible People’s Tribune, if anything to bolster support among the Greeks once the conflict had ended.

The Consul shared an approving nod to both the Home Secretary and Foreign Minister as he strode around the table to his seat at the opposite end of the Emperor’s position in the center of the table. He flipped his briefcase onto the table as his staffers helped him get organized and pushed a multitude of papers in front of him.

And then, perhaps most surprising of all, walked in the young Emperor - deep in discussion - with ministers Diana Lupei and Andronikos Kollias, who served as Count of the Imperial Treasury and Homeland Security Secretary respectively. And worst of all Leader of the Opposition Flavia Lepera. There was no other senator he shared a greater disdain for since he knocked Vindóbona out of political life than Flavia Lepera. Her presence was unusual and unexpected, but of no consequence to the Consul. Pompilius only took notice when his staffers ceased all their work and he pulled up from what sat in front of him on the table. He, along with all others rose and dipped their heads.

Lepera was the epitome of the Senatorial class, no matter the amount she claimed to speak for the people. Her father, Michael Olcinius, was one of the longest serving senators in the modern era, from his election after the Social War in 1956 until his retirement in 1999. He was even granted a life peerage as The Lord Olcinius of Philippopolis upon his retirement. Most, including Pompilius, thought the man was likely only to leave his seat at his death. Though his redeeming quality, in the eyes of most members of Pompilius’ party was that he was a Conservative icon in his early days; Lepera had none in the Consul’s eyes. She was a troublemaker, a rabble-rouser, routinely making a habit of speaking against the Consul during her speeches on the Senate floor or Consul Questions.

“Caesar,” Pompilius said, soon going back to whatever it was his aides were telling him, pushing his dipping glasses further up the bridge of his nose. A young man handed the Emperor a slip of paper, who then handed the same form to Kollias. Sulpicia even deemed it necessary to thrust herself into the pre-meeting discussion. They were fighting for his ear so desperately, not so unlike a brown-nosing student grasping for their teacher to notice them.

Pompilius knew better than to swarm him. Jason Augustus enjoyed the attention, this new one wasn’t quite sure how to handle it. “He’s under a great deal of stress,” he recalled his daughter speaking of Emperor Constantine a few nights ago. The two had been gradually seeing more of each other, moreso by design and circumstance than anything else.

“Is he now,” the Consul recalled smiling to his daughter that night. “What makes you so sure?”

His daughter replied in a way that surprised him. “Little things he does,” she shrugged her shoulders. The Consul asked her to humor him. “Well, he touches his forehead or temples quite a bit, due to headaches I suspect. Probably because he’s been clenching his jaw a lot. I noticed him doing that the last time I saw him. My friend Adriana from school...she has a similar problem when she's stressed. And well, just other things...” His daughter’s observation skills were far better than he ever gave her credit for. Sophia had always said our daughter was a surprising girl, I never really thought to take notice.

The boy being under an enormous amount of stress was expected. He had been increasingly isolated from, what the Consul, would have considered the boy’s inner circle, most specifically the Prince Leo, his own grandmother, Empress Marsella would have likely assisted him in lieu of his own mother being suspiciously absent. Even the Praetorian Prefect had disappeared with the young Prince Peter some time ago. Constantine refused to make any comment or indication on their departure or current whereabouts. That, specifically, seemed odd.

“...Consul,” he snapped out of his thoughts at Constantine’s calling. The ministers surrounding the boy were silent for once with their eyes all on Pompilius. “What do you make of it all?”

“I’m sorry. Make of what, sir?” Pompilius had no idea what the Emperor was referencing. Seems we’re not waiting for the rest of the cabinet. One of his aides pushed a photocopied piece of paper in front of him. Constantine ushered the rest of the present ministers to their seats while the Consul took a read of what appeared to be chain of letters.

To: Queen Mara and King Elijah IV of New Edom
From: Constantine XX of Latium
Subject: Re: Support
Encryption: Highest

Your Majesties,

It has come to my, and my cabinet's attention, that Your Government has offered assistance to my younger brother in his attempt to prop himself up as the legitimate Sovereign of Latium. Whatever reasons you may have had to prompt this support of an illegitimate government led by my younger brother, I cannot hope to know; however, it is my hope, that I may persuade you, and others, to do otherwise.

It is no secret that my younger brother has cobbled together some semblance of a government. The majority of those members happen to be major dissenters of previous governments, including from what I am told the leader of the far-right ultranationslist Popular Social Party, John Synnodus. But as the world has seen at the Marble Palace in Castellum, it is no stable government, with its very officers and office holders contradicting one another in an effort to deflect the blame from one another until it sticks on the one individual who's turn it is to fall on the sword.

During that time, I have assembled a majority of the Senate, the legitimate government of Latium, in my temporary Imperial Seat. It wasn't all that long ago, I announced my father's last will and testament on a live television broadcast. This was the true will of my father, as presented to me by Lord Chief Justice of the Supreme Court of Latium, Comitas Funar, and was later certified by Consul Alexander Pompilius and a binding majority of the Senate. Contrary to traditions, I had signed an order to see the will posted online for all citizens to see for themselves immediately following my initial reading.

For all the great deeds done throughout his reign, my father often neglected or paid little mind to the world outside of Acheron. It is my desire, after the fighting ends, to see to it that favorable policies and relationships reach further than Acheron. In achieving that end, my government requires not just your assistance, but also the assistance of the larger international community in these struggles. The Imperial Offices are, as always, open for any inquires, further communications or appointments - as are the Consul's. I hope that you will consider all that I have said and we may begin discussing the cessation all assistance to my younger brother's illegal government.

God Bless,
Constantine

---

To:Prince Constantine of Latium
From: Queen Mara I
Subject: Imperial Succession
Encryption: Most Secret, Eyes Only

---

My dear Constantine

I am very sorry for your losses, and I am very sorry that things have come to a violent pass. I wish that there were some other solution, and indeed I am exploring them. I hope that there can be some clarity as to what has taken place.

As far as we understand it, there are two wills, but one appears to have been pronounced the true will of yoru late father. This will, we understand, was the one which was read honouring Michael, whom we now acknowledge as Emperor of the Latins.

Of course, I do not pretend we are infinitely wise. I would be glad to consider what other particulars are involved with this, but you see no one from our government was spoken to nor invited to any inquiry with you, whereas the opposite happened with Michael. And while one of your new allies, the republic of Gran Chaco, is an honourable nation, we are worried about your alliance with an anti-Christian nation, Jedoria, which deliberately persecutes Christians. This aggressive fascist state is as dangerous as Rietumimark and we cannot in conscience side with such a nation.

We are happy however to entertain negotiations with yourself, your officials and whomever supports you from the Empire of Ghant or the Republic of Gran Chaco.

I am
Mara the First
Queen of the Allied States

“An interesting way to say nothing at all. May as well of not even responded,” Pompilius slid off his glasses once he finished skimming over the contents. “This was their response the communique we discussed?”

Constantine nodded, lurching over his seat at the table. “They call me Prince! I offer them my father’s will and they still doubt its legitimacy because Michael spoke to them first? He hasn’t so much as shown anyone his piece of paper. I have!” he appeared to either neglect or flat out fail to understand that his father’s will had absolutely nothing to do with the Edomites’ decision to support the younger brother. The Emperor shrugged his shoulders with a shake of his head, running a hand through his hair. “The will doesn’t even fucking matter. The law says what the rules of succession are, not the will. The law.”

“Maybe we should enter into negotiations with them and a mediator. It seems the most prudent course of action,” Foreign Minister Kontostefanos suggested. “I’d be honored to attend the matter personally for you.”

How noble of him, Pompilius drew his glasses once more and looked over the letters once more.

“No. There will be no negotiations with those fools. There is only one Emperor of Latium, and they cast their die with the false,” Constantine quickly refused the suggestion of speaking with the Edomites. “I want them out of the picture.”

“Indeed sir, the ram has touched the wall” Home Secretary Pollius stated in affirmation.

Michael, whom we now acknowledge as Emperor of the Latins, Pompilius read. The letter made what he had heard from his informant in Castellum, and what Constantine’s staff and scouts and allies had heard of the Edomite fleet roaming around the Delphic Sea, all the more true. “We discussed it at a recent council meeting,” Pompilius’ informant told him of the Edomite support for Michael’s regime, at least until the man in Castellum required the Consul’s word that he’d be pardoned and hold a Great Office of State at the conflict’s conclusion. “The Frontalita girl, she and the Emp...er...Michael spoke at length with some Edomite count.” Pompilius had learned a great deal of the happenings in Castellum from his source, both in connection with these events and those of perhaps greater consequence to the entire conflict, though he would bide his time in revealing those.

“At the very least we know where they stand,” Pompilius stated as he still pondered on the writing in front of him.

“I don’t see how that helps us any,” Senator Lepera sounded bitter. Aside from her crusade against him and his party, it wasn’t so much her ideology that bothered Pompilius, but moreso her inability to veer from it at points when she could clearly benefit from doing so. Oh, if only you hadn’t clouded your thoughts with all of that nonsense.[i]

Constantine sat at his seat. He was thinking, his face made that clear. [i]Think faster, boy. Or can’t you handle it?, the Consul sneered to himself. “A self-admission that they are choosing to recognize Michael is more than enough help,” Pompilius replied calmly to Lepera. “They are allied with the Ghantish, are they not?”

Foreign Minister Kontostefanos tilted his head back to ponder the question, then nodded affirmatively “Yes, I believe that’s correct.”

“I can’t imagine the Ghantish would appreciate those comments considering Michael and his goons attacked and probably looted their embassy...and oh, yes, tried to murder a Ghantish Princess,” Pompilius tried to hold back any smugness from his explanation, but found it difficult.

“Very well. I’m sorry, but I have something I must attend to at the moment” Constantine said in a raised voice to the Senators gathered. They looked around at one another, confused by the sudden command. “Consul.”

Constantine was nearing the doors when Pompilius heard the second order, stopping right in his tracks. “Sir?” he feigned ignorance and joined the Emperor’s side, following him out of the room. More cabinet members were gathering on the other side of the doors, quietly shuffling into the room as they bowed past the young Emperor who stood silent.

“You are a man of discretion,” the young Emperor asked Pompilius once the hall was clear of any unwanted ears. Pompilius nodded silently. “Where do we take this from here?” They both knew the answer to the question, but like most, Constantine needed to hear someone say it.

“I say we tell our friends what dishonorable friends they have,” the Consul spoke cautiously as the two began to walk a ways, stalling at a window. “Someone deserves to know when they can no longer trust a friend. Wouldn’t you want to know how you can and can’t trust?”

Those words spoke to Constantine than this simple Ghantish-Edomite business, that the Consul was sure of. The boy nodded. “Leave it to me, sir. You shouldn’t do all the heavy lifting yourself ,” Pompilius offered in a caring tone. “I’ll see to it our friend learns the truth and all is set right.”

Constantine ran his thumb over his lower lip, glancing out the window. “Good, see to it this moment,” he said before beginning to walk away.

To: Nymun Izarbegiratzeak, Prime Minister of Ghant
From: Alexander Pompilius, Consul of Latium
Subject: Princess Theodora
Encryption: Highest

Mr. Prime Minister

Due to your nation’s relationship with the Allied States of New Edom, I feel it is my duty to relay a message to you sent by Queen Mara herself to Emperor Constantine. In the attached transmission, the Queen acknowledges the government of Prince Michael to be the rightful and legitimate government of Latium, in lieu of all laws, traditions and conventions of Latium. It grieves me deeply to see such actions on the part of Queen Mara and her government following the shocking and horrifying events that transpired at the Marble Palace and Princess Theodora not all that long ago.

To further support the evidence provided in said communique, intelligence sources, scouting and a variety of well placed sources that an Edomite naval detachment is currently located in the Delphic Sea near the isles of Tericio and southern Latium. The audacity to undertake such a movement after what Prince Michael has done to not just the Imperial Family of Ghant but its diplomats and citizenry is simply shocking. I trust you will accept this new knowledge as a continued sign of continued friendship with Ghant on the part of Emperor Constantine and the People and Senate of Latium with continued confidence.

Signed,
Alexander Pompilius, SM
Consul of Latium

Code: Select all

To: Prince Constantine of Latium
From: Queen Mara I
Subject: Imperial Succession
Encryption: Most Secret, Eyes Only

My dear Constantine

I am very sorry for your losses, and I am very sorry that things have come to a violent pass. I wish that there were some other solution, and indeed I am exploring them. I hope that there can be some clarity as to what has taken place.

As far as we understand it, there are two wills, but one appears to have been pronounced the true will of yoru late father. This will, we understand, was the one which was read honouring Michael, whom we now acknowledge as Emperor of the Latins.

Of course, I do not pretend we are infinitely wise. I would be glad to consider what other particulars are involved with this, but you see no one from our government was spoken to nor invited to any inquiry with you, whereas the opposite happened with Michael. And while one of your new allies, the republic of Gran Chaco, is an honourable nation, we are worried about your alliance with an anti-Christian nation, Jedoria, which deliberately persecutes Christians. This aggressive fascist state is as dangerous as Rietumimark and we cannot in conscience side with such a nation.

We are happy however to entertain negotiations with yourself, your officials and whomever supports you from the Empire of Ghant or the Republic of Gran Chaco.

I am
Mara the First
Queen of the Allied States

---

Ravenna

And just when all seemed to be going wrong, God reminds you he’s there, Strategos Marcus Iccius thought once he received transmission of the Edomites naval squadron nearing Ravenna. It truly seemed a gift from God to him and his staff. He’d sent a whole legions worth away from the city just days ago, deep into Sorrentia to pester and chip away at the Chacoan forces rounding up along the coast. And now, those numbers had been nearly replenished and most of all, there was naval support.

The Strategos ordered a Legate to see to it Task Force Boa was allowed permission to disembark their landing craft, land their helicopters and set ships to port. All the while, Strategos Iccius would remain at his headquarters for planning as he awaited their arrival into the city.

Permission had been granted for landing at the southwestern end of the city, near where the 12th legion had been designated before they were reassigned for movements into Sorrentia. Room was made for their utility helicopters to land in vacant parking lots of the municipal airport that was located nearly two miles from the beach and port.

Upon room being allocated for their landings, the Strategos traveled to port where he would receive the Edomite commander and being their planning for the oncoming assault of the Latino-Ghantish bastard prince’s army from the north.

[Lacus Magni]

Pompilius
Consul's Residence, Adrianople

“You should have seen it,” Pompilius said with a laugh to his wife who poured him some wine. “He only needed to read the addressed line, ‘To: Prince Constantine.’ He was lost after that…”

“The boy shares more in common with his brother and mother than we thought,” Sophia Pompilius handed her husband a cup of wine. He smiled in thanks and took the first sip. “Will it be a problem?”

The Consul held his glass at his lips, his face pondering on the thought. “I shouldn’t think so,” he put his cup down and felt the pockets on his shirt and trousers for something. “Do you know where I put my cigarettes?”

“Anna hid them,” his wife replied cooly.

“Oh that wretched little…”

“She doesn’t want you to die before your time is up,” Sophia slid onto the couch beside him. “And neither do I.”

Alexander kissed her on the cheek. “Is she seeing him tonight? Do you think she’s made any progress?”

“I believe so. She’s been at the palace more since the Prefect disappeared. She gets all blush when I bring it up,” Sophia took her husband’s wine and drank from the cup. “But we need to handle this Edomite business. What was it he said this morning?”

“Some grandiose words and a few pumps at his chest here and there. Kontostefanos was nearly pleading on his knees one moment to be sent for negotiations, then the next repeating the boy’s every word,” his wife threw him a look demanding more of an answer. “He said he wants them out of the picture.”

“So you told him to pass it along and not move forward with negotiations? That was foolish, Alexander. And unlike you.”

“I am still trying to get a proper feeling about the boy. I wanted to see what he’d do,” he attempted to explain himself to his wife, though she just look disappointed and sour. “We just need to pivot is all.”

“Well your curiosity has done more harm than good.”

“Oh don’t be dramatic,” Alexander rose from the couch with a raised voice and motion of his arm. “Look what he has around him. I need to earn his trust and to do that...

“That sounds like an excuse,” Sophia rolled her eyes. “What are you doing to fix this? Did his office send a reply?”

“He was dead set on this course.”

“Because he wants them out of the way? I’d say negotiations achieve that end.”

“Even more so than trying to turn the Ghantish against them, I know that.”

“Then send a reply,” his wife repositioned herself on the couch to sit more comfortable and crossed her legs. “Get them out of the way.”

“If he finds out, we stand to lose,” the Consul offered some resistance. “We…”

“...Will lose more if they double down because of the boy’s anger at an imagined slight,” Sophia was calm and stable in her seating, while her husband weighed the ideas in his head as he paced back and forth through the room. “He’ll only be upset if you fail. And you won’t fail.”

“He is traveling to Olympia soon, to speak with his uncle,” he stopped his pacing, held his finger out and shook it while he thought. “We might need some distance from all of this.”

“Send someone you trust, someone capable,” Sophia One of the other ministers. They take the blame if it fails and he finds out. But if it succeeds, you take all the glory for shrinking his list of foes.”

“I’ll speak to Peter, he owes me a few favors.”

To: Queen Mara of New Edom
From: Peter Foslius, Senatorial Secretary to the Cabinet Office
Cc: Foreign Minister Giovanni Ricca of Tericio
Subject: Negotiations
Encryption: Highest

Your Majesty,

Upon consultation with the Senate and Privy Council, the Emperor has authorized negotiations to take place between representatives from each of our governments concerning the illegitimate government in Castellum. I have also been authorized to inform you that Emperor Constantine has repeatedly worked to achieve a negotiated peace with the usurper, attempts which have continually been rebuffed.

Unfortunately, the Emperor’s schedule may not permit him to attend and deeply apologizes for this; however, he has designated Tribune of the Curiate Assembly Alexandra Sulpicia and Secretary of the Home Department John Pollius to attend any such negotiations on his behalf. Emperor Constantine would like to request that any such meeting be held in Adrianople or suitable and agreed upon nearby location and that a trusted and agreeable representative from United Enclaves of Tericio be present to serve as a mediator.

Signed,
Peter Foslius, SM
Senatorial Secretary to the Cabinet Office

[Republica De Gran Chaco]

Office of the Prime Minister
Yanque, Chaco

Prime Minister Luis Fernando looked as small as ever siting in his big leather chair at the end of the conference table. Small and thin, he had a way of folding his arms and legs so that he looked almost a tangled ball at the end of the table. The meeting that was taking place only had a few people in the room, the minister of defense, the army and navy chiefs, and Xeina Ccallo representing the foreign ministry. They were not in the large basement conference room of the Prime Minister’s residence that housed the cabinet meetings today, they were in a smaller one on the fourth floor of the office building that contained the offices for the members of parliament. It was an 19th century building built in old downtown Yanque close the Plaza de Armas where the Cathedral stood. The fourth floor contained a mostly unused ceremonial office for the PM that he could use as a work station when parliament was in session and he did not have time to go back to the residence to work. It was unusual to have meetings there, though it was brighter and had a magnificent view of the Cathedral through the large windows.

The topic of the day was Latium, the Prime Minister was listening to Xeina speak about the diplomatic situation. Xeina, the short and stocky Quechua indian with broad shoulders, thick black hair pulled back into a braid clearly stood out among the taller white or mixed government workers, but her mind and good nature had caused her to be adopted out of the slums as a girl by an old Minister of Education, who had discovered her on a good will visit to her school. She performed well at her job and so had become the de facto leader of the Foreign Ministry though legally she could never hold the official role.

“Mr. Prime Minister, I see no more benefit for remaining in Latium. The Latins, have offered us nothing, not even in the form of potential trade deals. Tericio is safe, and even if they were not, the Noviterans could protect them better than we could ever hope to. And to top all it all off Jedorians are growing more difficult to work with every day, and they still have not quit their persecution of Christians.” Xeina finished.

Luis shifted and sat up strait for a moment, then placed his elbows on the table and leaned his face on his hands, “Yes, I was actually going to approve the rejection of their basing rights in Chaco in the next few days, though I think I should wait until all of our troops are home. Alright, the cost is enormous, no expectation of continued benefit, only the chance of an awkward confrontation with New Edom, we did achieve the destruction of Michaels navy, but to what ends at this point? We need to save money if we are going to hope to stabilize Ashab. Alright Anastasio.” Luis said looking at the minister of defense, “Begin the withdrawal, let’s bring everyone home.

Heraclea, Latium

The regiment all stood in formation for the promotion ceremony. These were dull affairs that meant standing in formation in the sun for a couple hours, though the men were usually proud to have their names called in front of the regiment and to have their new chevrons pinned on in front of everyone. New ranks also meant beatings from the rest of the squad when they were back in camp, but that was part of the army and the men all took it well, even if it meant a few days of sore muscles. Anyways they always got their revenge when a friend eventually moved up in rank.

It wasn’t very common to have the whole regiment together for the ceremony, as CLI companies were usually scattered across southern Chaco. It seemed to Bryan that the Colonel moved through everyone at a snail’s pace, personally pinning on all of the new ranks. He moved his way from lowest to highest and finally at the end called out the Executive Officer of Bryan’s own second battalion. That came as a bit of a surprise, there were no vacancies in the CLI for Lieutenant Colonels, but as the colonel announced the XO had agreed to take command of a regular infantry battalion. Bryan watched him get his ranks pinned on and then exchanged salutes with the regimental commander and return to his spot. The regimental commander called out, “To fill the hole of Executive Officer of Second Battalion will Captain Bryan Cayo please stand front and center.”

Bryan’s heart skipped a beat for a moment, but he smartly marched forward towards the commanding officer. In front of the Colonel he stomped with his right foot and saluted which was then returned.

The Colonel took the time to read out the commission which confused Bryan as he had not done this for anyone else, “To all who shall see these presents, greeting: Know Ye that, reposing special trust and confidence in the patriotism, valor, fidelity and abilities of Bryan Cayo, I do appoint him a major in the Army of the Republic of Gran Chaco to rank as such from the ninth day of January 2017. This Officer will therefore carefully and diligently discharge the duties of the office to which appointed by doing and performing all manner of things thereunto belonging.
And I do strictly charge and require those Officers and other personnel of lesser rank to render such obedience as is due an officer of this grade and position. And this Officer is to observe and follow such orders and directives, from time to time, as may be given by me, or the future Prime Minister of the Republic of Gran Chaco, or other Superior Officers acting in accordance with the laws of the the Republic of Gran Chaco.
This commission is to continue in force during the pleasure of the Prime Minister of the Republic of Gran Chaco for the time being, under the provisions of those Public Laws relating to Officers of the Armed Forces of the Republic of Gran Chaco and the component thereof in which this appointment is made.
Done at the City of Heraclea, this ninth day of January in the year of our Lord 2017.”

The Colonel finished reading the declaration and then removed the three diamond shaped insignias from each of Bryan’s shoulder straps and replaced them with the single lion’s head pins of major. The Colonel congratulated Bryan they exchanged salutes but Bryan was not dismissed.

The Colonel called up the two other unwounded men who had helped assist the LRRP team. He turned and received a small box from a staff officer and then announced to the formation, “In recognition of valor in combat in the assistance of the members of the Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol team 9 Private Jimenez and Lance Corporal Velasquez have been awarded the bronze cross for valor.” The Colonel pinned both medals on the men and exchanged salutes. He turned and received one more box, “In recognition of valor in combat in the assistance of the members of the Long Range Reconnaissance Patrol team 9 in which Major Cayo single handedly stopped a flanking attack that threatened the team Major Bryan Cayo is hereby awarded the silver cross of valor.”

Bryan was a bit stunned and uneasy as the medal was pinned to his chest. He exchanged salutes and went back to the front of his company and looked over at his own XO who had been promoted to Captain, who smiled back, “Well Victor’s promotion makes sense now” Bryan thought.

The Colonel began speaking to the regimen, “I have been informed that a campaign medal for Latium will be issued to everyone who has served here. I have also been informed that we will be withdrawn, and that the CLI will be the first men flown home, we leave in three days. This will be followed by two weeks leave, try not to get to fat!”

The men cheered and were dismissed scattering every which way and chattering excitedly at each other. Bryan smiled and felt good, it looked like he would make it home to see his baby born after all.

[New Edom]

Ravenna

The 4th Marine Infantry, reflected Captain Lucas, was hardly in a position to impose the will of the Allied States onto Latium. Just 1200 personnel, albeit probably with excellent force projection comnpared to many of the native units. But they wouldn't be able to be anywhere. He was tense about this, the back of his neck taut. So many things to worry about for the vanguard position of the regiment. The first to go ashore with his men. Not the least of it was he was commanding Greek babbling Damocleans.

However he was assured he would have good air support, and they would be in missile support range of the fleet. An enemy unit might strike at them asa tempting target, but they would pay for it dearly. He tucked his orders into a pouch in his combat webbing and nodded to his command post personnel—executive officer, company sergeant-major, forward observer, senior ratio transmissions operator, senior field medic. They were all fellow Barans, Cornellians, one Anglo-German in the case of the medic, thank God. His two runners were Elwe-Baran Halfers, both with the grade of corporal. His three rifle platoon commanders were Baran as well, and two were decent, enough experience to be relied on to do what they were told and accept a good scolding and do better. The third was a wet behind the ears boy from a decent family who he felt was too friendly with the troops. The company would go to hell if that caught on, and he noticed with satisfaction that Ensign Othniel was still flushed from being reprimanded for being caught joking around with his troops.

‘An officer must be dignified at all times,” he had warned him. “It is one thing to make a joke—another thing to allow yourself to be the butt of one. Never allow them to be familiar with you. They must see you as the very voice of the King in the field.”

Othniel had tried to argue. “But Captain, surely these men are required to understand the maps, know call signs, be able to call in fire support if need be, know the basis fo the missions…”

“It is not about that, Ensign,” Lucas had snapped sharply. It is about discipline, it is about dignity.”

In addition to the rifle platoons he had one heavy weapons platoon which was still commanded by Staff Sergeant Achish. Achish was an enlisted man but he was goo at dealing with the Damocleans. Perhaps a little free with his fists, and lucas had to watch that with him. He simply couldn’t seem to resist giving a slow soldier a blow to the head. “You’ll scramble their brains, Sergeant,’ Lucas had warned him. “And then what good will they be? Confine it to slaps if you please.”

“Yes Your Honour,” Achish had said with his broken toothed grin, but Lucas noted a black eye in one of the anti-aircraft squad men, and gave Achish a warning glare.

The trouble was that while Achish was good at following instructions, he was not the best at actually taking initiative; he was a soldier of the old school. What Lucas therefore did was to assign the forward observer, an artillery officer attached to his unit, to the Heavy Weapons Platoon to ride with them. It consisted of one tank destroyer, two mortar vehicles, an anti-aircraft variant of the M20, and a dismounted squad with a shoulder mounted LA-42 Attero MANPADS and an APILAS rocket launcher.

The Sergeant-Major knew how to keep the Marine Infantry busy. No harm in a full deployment drill; if it was cancelled they would be more practiced. The troops were excited, some nervous, some jacked up.

He reached into a pocket on his combat webbing and cursed. "Damn it."

"Sir?" said Othniel, suppressing a nervous burp into his fist nearby him as the port semed to be steadily moving towards them.

"I forgot my gum." Lucas liked to chew a sharp minty gum during exercises and had done so on his own active operations with the 1st Regiment; it helped him keep his throat and mouth wet so he could shout more easily and calmed his nerves. He was very irritated by this; he never forgot anything.

"Do you want some of mine sir?" asked Othniel. "I've got an extra pack" he lied, wanting to get his commander's gratitude.

"Oh..." Lucas looked at him. "Thank you."

He slipped the gum into his mouth and chewed and felt the sharpness clean everything and sharpen his senses. He spoke into his radio headset. "Platoon leaders, sound off. Final radio check."

Once they had done so he then said, "Remind them what the penalty for theft, murder and rape are."

"I think they get the idea, sir..." began Lieutenant Adoni-Zedek.

"Remind them again." Lucas snapped at him. He would trust these Dam-Dammies when they had proved themselves and not before. And they were Greeks. He did not trust Greeks. Sly, too independent, given to criminal behaviour. But he would do his duty or die trying.

When the 4th Marines arrived, Lucas would formally present himself (4th Marines here ready to stand with our allies: I am Captain Lucas) , his company instructed to act more like they were just entering a friendly base during exercises than anything else. The Latins would see men in camouflage patterned battle dress, with helmets, equipped with AK-94 assault rifles and variants, their vehicles big six wheled APCs and recon vehicles. Overhead helicopters made a throbbing thunder as two TH-300 helicopters came in to their designated landing zones, to be followed by others.

Admiral Count Barnabas Amalek was on one of these, a rather sharp faced man with greying hair and seamed facial skin wearing his naval blue dress uniform with his medals on display. He was a formal man of the old school. "I am getting too old to dash around like a gunner's mate or soldier," he had said to Commander Ishtabaoth when that worthy complained about it. "If I am to die I will simply do so with some dignity. This is a formal meeting, the first between Edomite warriors and Latin for the sake of our monarchs and our Christian God."

---

Fineberg, New Edom

Count Thomas Lalery arrived wearing his favourite white suit, blue silk tie and light red waistcoat, his dark hair slicked back and wearing a gold watch and ring. He joined with Nicanor, wearing a blue 'parade dres' uniform with his kepi under his arm, and Geta in a light grey suit, General Ashdod in his darker grey suit and Prince Enoch in a blue naval uniform.

They gathered in one of the sitting rooms that accessed the Palace gardens at Betharan Palace and tried to pretend they all liked one another, which was only true in some cases.
Not long of this before Lieutenant Count Alexander Domris, a handsome young man in the uniform of the Royal Cavalry Guards, entered and asked them if their Excellencies would please accompany him.

"The garden again," muttered Lalery. "Sweet Christ."

"Your trouble is you don't like the country, Lalery," said Geta with a chuckle. "You're too much of a civilized man."

"That's entirely the point," growled Lalery, eying Geta with displeasure. Geta looked back at him blandly as if to say "what?"

"The Queen has won many hearts and minds by her actions; unlike other monarchs she has not even the secfrets of her flesh, like our very most ordinary folk," said Nicanor.

They moved out into the garden, which had been partly transformed by now. Though still beautiful, many of the things growing there were now herbs, fruit bearing shrubs and vegetables. Guardsmen stood around at intervals. A couple of servants wheeled a wheelbarrow or moved a cart full of tools away from where the conversation was to take place. However the Queen's servant, a slim Elwe girl who wore only standals, led them to where the Queen was working.

The Queen was hoeing weeds. Her strong supple arms worked steadily like any peasant; if they had not known she was the Queeen they ight not have if they came on her unexpectedly; a solid smooth olive tan glowign with sweat and flecked with dirt all over. Nearby was a little cart on which was a basket full of weeds nearly. She looked up as they all bowed to her deeply. "We let this place go fallow over the last year, remember?" Mara said, smiling at them. She squatted, displaying herself obscenely in the mind of Lalery, and held up a lump of moist looking dirt.
"Look at this! The worms and beetles have done their small but valuable work! So rich!"

"Wonderful, Majesty," said Nicanor, to Lalery's annoyance. "What will you plant here?" his voice was kindly, like a nice old uncle's.

"Tomatoes," said Mara decisively. "That's why I built that wooden frame there, to provide enough shad ein the latter part of the day but to invite the warm sun in the earlier part, see?"

"Well done, Majesty," said Geta.

"Why don't you all shed that ridiculous decadent foreign clothing andjoin me?" Mara asked innocently, her big dark eyes taking them all in.

"I'm afraid we're on important business about Latium...and Ghant." Lalery told her.

"Oh gosh darn it, alright," said Mara. She took off her filthy gardening gloves and sat on a stone bench. The men of the Council remained standing. "Who's first?"

"Well, we have no response directly from Constantine," observed Geta. "I did advise that calling him 'prince' might be seen as a provocation..."

"And I pointed out to you that we didn't want to sound like a buncho f commie weasels in our letter," said Nicanor.

Mara said, "Yes, I understand gentlemen, you don't like each other much but you need to leaern to actice the love of Christ with one another. Which is why you should take your clothes off and remove all those medals and live as I do. But I'm not going to force you. Anyway let's get on with it please."

"Well, my Queen, the gist of it is that a foreign office official in Constantine's service--not his own foreign minister--has proposed negotiation and also forwarded this proposal to the Terician foreign mnister." Geta said. "I think this is promising. But nothing is on the table yet."

"Oh, but that's wonderful. Well, what about our fleet actions in around Latium, where's that funny place?" Mara asked.

"What funny place?" said Geta, squinting.

"Where our fleet is." Mara said.

"Oh!"

"Ravenna," chimed in Ashdod quickly. "Here Majesty," he stepped in with a folder opening to show a map of Latium. "Right down here, relatively close to Castellum but of course the Jedorians and Chacanos control the coast there for now. But, er," he smiled a bit smugly. "Only for now. I have intelligence from Chaco that they will probably be pulling out."

"When do you imagine such an event could take place, Police Minister?" asked Prince Enoch.

"I cannot say exactly, but it could be as little as a matter of days," said General Ashadod.

"Well that's good," said Mara, eying her hoe.

"I anticipate problems with Ghant thougn," Geta continued. "Because of the apparent abduction of certain relations of the Emperor Nathan and as well as this Prince Leo's commitment to leading a large number of Constantine's forces. The Ghantar are neck deep in this. They may complain we are undermining them."

"They may?" Mara said. "If it's about family you can bet that Nathan and his immediate family will kick up a fuss. Have they prepared any forces at all?"

"I do not believe so, but apparently Vorindeum has done so, though they have not communicated with us at all. So it could just be an exercise," said General Nicanor.

"The key things, obviously, are the attacks on the embassy and the abduction of Princess theodora," said Count Lalery. "They're angry as hornets over that."

"Perhaps, but I think we're covered on that one," said NIcanor with a wave of his massive paw. "We already gave our condolences, said we supported a full investigation, demanded one of the Latins under Michael, and sent our own troops from our embassy's security detail to protect the ground there. It's not up to us to find Michael guilty without an investigation. I leave that sort of thing to anarchists."

"Maybe I should go and sort things out a bit though," said Lalery, looking at Mara. "Make sure they understand that this is just a bit of conflict of interest and that it can be worked out to mutual satisfaction. I did warn the Council that we should not have committed any forces at ll."

Mara said, "As my husband has understood it, the forces committed are large enough to prevent Constantine from winning easily but not enough to simply stop him. And they have not fired any shots in anger, so...let's find out what's going on, shall we?"

"Then Your Majesty agrees that I should go?" said Lalery.

"Not you." Nicanor said. "You're biased."

"How dare you!"' Lalery rounded on him. "I am offended! I demand an apology for this attack on my integrity!"

Nicanor was about to reply when Prince Enoch swiftly stepped in. "Gentlemen, gentlemen, this will not do. You are not drunk midshipmen, you are Ministers of Her Majesty's Council! Enough!"

Mara was visibly upset. Her big eyes were wet with emotion. "Don't even think about dueling! I agree someone should go, but as we've just seen, Finance Minister, you are too choleric at tiems. No, well let Prince Amenmar handle the matter..."

"What about sending Princess Jocasta?" offered Lalery, recovering swiftly. "They respect her there, and she really holds her own, and is married into one of their greatest families. Michael can advise her on wht the reactions are likely to be and prepare the way. Amenmar and Princess Jocasta together would be a formidable team."

The Queen frowned. She ran a hand through sweat damp hair and took a deep breath. "What do you think, Gentlemen?"

Ashdod regarded the others warily. Prince Enoch waited a moment, looking thoughtful.

"I think it's a great idea," said Geta suddenly.

"Why?" demanded Nicanor.

"Well, it will be a good show of respect, it will be showing that we're very concerned about what happens between our nations, and Princess Jocasta is taken rather seriously in other monarcharist countries. With Prince Amenmar advising her--and I should stress, Majesty, that it be very clear that he is the expert on Ghant--she will steer very well I think." Geta said cheerfully. "By the way, may I join Your Majesty in some gardening?" he asked, loosening his tie. "I feel nostalgic for my garden in Peregrino..."

"Oh of course! And splendidly reasoned!" Mara exclaimed. "Well there it is then! You'd beter communicate with Prince Amenmar first, and General Nicanor, I think we must make sure that the fleet and marines don't act too quickly, hmm?"

"Yes. I will need to make some calls, and if Your Majesty does not mind my big belly in the sun..." Nicanor offered.

"Nonsense, all bodies are God's creations," Mara smiled. "You are more than welcome!"

Lalery could stomach little more and bowed for his departure. As he walked off with Enoch, eh said to him, "Geta.Do you think Geta is a dark horse? What has Nicanor promised him?"

Enoch said blandly, "Your job."

"What!" Lalery exclaimed.

"He's well suited in a pragmatic way," Enoch pointed out. "So you'd better be clever, my lad."

To:Peter Foslius, Senatorial Secretary to the Cabinet Office
Cc: Foreign Minister Giovanni Ricca of Tericio
From: Foreign Minister Hosidius Geta of New Edom
Subject: Peace

---

Gentlemen,

On behalf of Her Majesty Queen Mara I and King Elijah IV, I agree that there should be talks discussing the legtimacy of both claimants to the throne of Latium. Of particular interest will be the following on New Edom's part:
1. The involvement of the Confederation of Jedoria, a nation which is violently anti-Christian and whose involvement suggests to our government that they intend to spread this attitude throughout Latium, a nation occupying a vital area of strategic importance.

2. That immediately following declarations by the two major candidates for the throne of Latium that certain nations saw fit to intervene with military force, implying that these nations see fit to avoid diplomatic reasoning at the first stages: Jedoria, Gran Chaco, Demphor, Vannois.

3. The security for trade and commercial purposes of the delphic sea and Strait of Apollo.

The New Edomite government agrees to the location for negotiations and will insit on a complete recognition of diplomatic immunity for any delegation sent and for the government of Tericio to stand surety for this before we will participate fully.

On a final note, our compliments to the foreign ministry of Constantine, claimant to the throne of Latium, for this wise and pacific course.

I have the honour to be
Hosidius Geta
Foreign Minister of the Allied States of New Edom

[Tericio]

ignore

[Lacus Magni]

Near Espo, Latium
(Co-written with Vannois)

Leo watched the large transport helicopter rise into the sky and fly away under an escort of two attack helicopters. He was nervous to let his sister out of his sight, and even moreso to send her away, though he worked to assure himself she would be safe and even safer once she reached Ghantish airspace. “Your Highness,” Legate Fontieus appeared from the rear and spoke lightly into Leo’s ear. “Caesulenus is getting everyone moving along. Should be a few hours or so and we’ll be ready.”

“And our guests?” Leo spoke softly with a sigh.

“On their way,” Fontieus nodded as the two found their way back to their vehicles.

“Very well, let’s get this charade over with,” Leo thought back on a recent discussion with Constantine involving Espo and the Vannoisians. All Constantine was able to tell him was that the Vannoisians lied to him about Espo and there was more to the story than what they were told. Be cautious.

Once in the jeep, Leo, along with his Legates and various guards, began to travel north just outside of the camp. Along the way the Prince could see his men beginning to gather their things and prepare for their movements south towards Ravenna. Stopping just two miles north of his encampment, they came upon a vacant primary school building. St. Leontius Primary School the dirtied sign read in Latin and Greek just in front of the school along the street.

It appeared provincial and small, primarily built of brick. Outside a number of soldiers stood guard. They all saluted the Prince and his staff as they rolled to front entrance and stopped. “Right this way, your Highness,” a Greek soldier said to him as the doors swung open. The inside appeared in better shape than the town hall miles back, but there appeared to be no power to the building - lights not turning on as the switch was flipped.

They finally stopped at what appeared to be the school’s cafeteria. Tables, stools and chairs were covered in dust, only to be brushed away when candles were laid down. “This will do,” Leo muttered as his Legates and guards began to lay out all that was required for the, what he hoped would be, brief meeting.

The Vannoisian delegation arrived soon after the Latins, coming to a quick stop before the small school building. Guards - really just regular soldiers, replacing the usual blue and black clad Imperial Guards whom were sworn to protect the Royal Family - rushed quickly out of the jeeps that had transported them to the location, setting up a perimeter around the convoy and signaling the car in the center of the group. Immediately, the doors of the black SUV, modified to serve as a reinforced transport for vital individuals, flung open at all sides. Out stepped the recently declared Emperor of Vannois, christened Louis XIV, alongside an officer of some rank and additional guardsmen.

The Emperor was dressed in uniform, though more for ease than for show; wearing the camouflage and black combat boots of the soldiers around him further obscured his actual identity to those that might aim to harm him, though the deference shown him by those nearby was an obvious counterpoint to that strategy.

“Your Majesty, it seems the Latins have arrived first.” The officer, a colonel of little note but in command of the group directly protecting the Emperor, bowed his head and pointed towards the school.

“Very well. Let’s get this over and done with.” Audric, or Louis, resisted the urge to speak any further to the older man beside him, keeping his tone clipped and his countenance laconic. “Lead the way, soldier.”

The two were then led to the Latin Prince, with a handful of guards following them as the rest of the contingent spread out further to ensure that the convoy was secured and that their special cargo was safe for the duration of the meeting.

Leo eyed the Vannoisians first and rose out of respect. “It’s good to see you again, Your Majesty,” Leo tried to smile and extended his arm to shake the new Emperor’s hand. Some of Leo’s soldiers had been rushing items to the table and ceased moving when the Vannoisian Emperor appeared. “I pray this location is suitable, you’ll have to forgive me for not being able to host in my camp. With all the commotion about camp the last twenty-four house, it seemed best for somewhere a tad more removed.”

Louis nodded to Leo, extending a hand to shake the Latin’s before looking about the room. He allowed a small smile, nearly shrugging. “It is quite alright, I think, all things considered; I doubt my good guardsmen would allow me to enter any camp other than our own at this point without my explicit orders. I hope to change that, now.” The Emperor moved to the chair across from where Leo had been sitting prior, taking a seat, back straight as an arrow and eyes kept on the Latin across from him. While his gaze was not especially cool, it was obvious that he was prepared for something unfriendly if it was to come to that end. “I do not expect you to have any news of my beloved Selene?”

“Until last night, I hadn’t heard much since we were forced from Castellum,” Leo leaned forward and locked his hands together on the table separating the two. “She stayed behind for my sister...we lost her in the chaos. It was truly noble,” he swallowed with a sigh. “She helped my sister escape from Michael’s control and I’m told was captured herself in the process. I don’t know much else past that.”

Leo nodded to Legate Fontieus who then spoke to another. “Bring the Greek lad.”

“This is Leon, Count Chalcis by the courtesy of his father The Doux Palaiologi - heir of the Dukedom,” Leo stated when a guard brought the Greek lordling into the room. He was unchanged, and dressed in military garb just like the others. “He helped bring my sister here and was Selene’s chief accomplice.”

“Very well. Thank you for that, at least.” Louis grimaced at the news - or lack thereof - of Selene, thinking worriedly of the faked letters from Michael earlier on in the conflict. However, he was able to pivot as Leo did, forcing thoughts of his girlfriend from his mind. Nodding to the newcomer, he spoke. “Well done, then, Count. Regrettable that the Princess could not also escape, but your actions are admirable regardless.”

Lord Leon dipped his head when he started speaking. He began in Greek at first out of pure habit before correcting himself. “I tried to save her too, your Majesty. I was carrying Her Highness...er Princess Theodora because she couldn’t walk her own,” the Greek lord gulped nervously before continuing. “We were nearly across the bridge and they found out somehow. Next thing I knew, Princess Selene was gone the next time I turned around and all I heard was her screech.”

“Leon was one of Michael’s ‘bodyguards’ before his escape,” Leo added.

“I see, then. God willing she is well under the thumb of that madman; hopefully he will see his loving sister rather than a co-conspirator in her.” Louis crossed himself quickly, sighing. “Before your escape, Leon, what seemed to be Michael’s mindset? It has been our assumption that he is likely mad with his delusions of grandeur; I never chose him as a fully minded type, despite Selene’s love for him… Constantine has always been our personal candidate for the position of Emperor, though of course we had no say in such laws of succession.” The Emperor’s little reveal was not especially surprising, in his opinion, but necessary to show his good faith; a little lie, which was certainly what brought the Latins to his camp near Espo, would blow over sooner than later with such actions.

“He never really allowed me to guard the important meetings. But he seemed unsettled, more erratic than normal. If you could believe that,” Leon laughed lightly before suppressing it. “Princess Selene was taken at the Villa ad Pontes. I’m not sure if she’s there now because Michael was planning on moving Princess Theodora from there that night. I apologize that I don’t know more.”

“Thank you, Lord Leon,” Leo nodded. “That’ll be all unless the Emperor has more questions.”

“That is quite alright, Leon. I thank you for your service to Selene and to the genuine Latin government.” Louis nodded towards the young Lord, returning his attention to Leo after ensuring that the officer nearby had taken note of the information regarding Selene’s possible location. While he was doubtful that he had any capacity to retrieve the Princess until Castellum was finally under siege, it would be helpful at least to know that she was there and alive. “I suppose I may have the answers to certain questions of yours, Leo, regarding the neutralization of so-called Emperor George and his force in Espo.”

Leon nodded and was walked out of the room. “I was just about to ask if you’d had any contact with Michael or George” Leo winced a smile. “We’ve heard some rumors regarding George. Mostly the locals blaming whatever bogeyman that suits them. Emperor Constantine and I are rather curious of the truth and, forgive me for being frank, the rumors of Vannoisian involvement.”

“Best to begin with George, I suppose.” Louis steepled his fingers on the table before him, beginning. “George and his younger brother were eliminated by Vannoisian forces in Espo at the orders of my generals; while the Empire is not in the business of killing children, it is believed that these threats to the rightful rule of a legitimate son of Jason Augustus could not be allowed to continue, especially because they had already been radicalized by outside entities.” The Emperor eyed Leo for his reaction, keeping his face impassive. “The boys mother and sister are in our captivity, as well as some of the main co-conspirators; unfortunately some of the most important leaders within George’s faction were caught in the crossfire, but most of the party remains alive… I would be willing to exchange them with Constantine, were that his wish, though the group is currently kept jailed in Vannois and it could take some time to bring them to Latium considering the dangers involved.”

Leo thought on Emperor Louis’ words, considering all that Constantine had told him - as little information as that was. “So...a battle then? I haven’t had the time to visit the city itself, I assume that’s where most of the action took place.”

“After the elimination took place, there were skirmishes across the city.” Though those skirmishes could not account for the devastation that Espo had experienced subsequent to its Lord’s killing, it might be feasible to those who had not seen the looting taking place firsthand. “Unfortunately, most of Espo is in exceedingly dangerous shape, and we are in the process of setting up new safe areas under the protection of our soldiers for citizens to shelter. The manor, as well, has been completely razed by conflict; we were unable to recover the bodies of those killed, as our soldiers had to retreat rather quickly once the action took place.” All for the better, of course; it would be rather unsightly for the executed bodies of George and his co-conspirators to turn up as they were upon their deaths, after all.

“Ah, we’ve heard a great deal of news about looters and bandits,” Leo added with a not entirely convinced nod. “That’s a shame though, the news of George. Constantine had offered pardons I’d heard. The whole thing may have been avoidable otherwise. Same for Michael too I hear, unfortunately. I wouldn’t have offered him anything less than a grave,” Leo felt guilty for having his feelings on Michael leaking out to a man Constantine recently urged him not to trust. He scratched his head quickly. “You said something of false letters from Selene before, what contact have you had with Michael?”

“Unfortunate, assuredly, though I agree with you completely. Constantine’s rule must be unassailable once he can take Castellum.” Louis was rather unbothered by the sentiments regarding George; actually, he was rather pleased. If he were in Constantine's position, of course, he would have wanted the same done to the rebels. “I have received multiple letters, purportedly from Selene, as well as certain missives from Michael himself. He believes our force to be behind him completely, with proof of that lying in the demise of George’s force.” Clearing his throat, the Emperor paused for a moment. “We… have seen no need to correct him, as I am sure you can understand. Unless your side has leaked any information of our intent to him, we remain under the impression that he trusts myself and my intentions regarding his claim to the throne.”

Louis considered his next words, and continued. “I am completely open to negotiating a course of action with yourself and Constantine on exploiting this mistake made by Michael. I want no question as to where our loyalties lie in this war; I only ask that we be able to use this advantage fully, and by doing that continue to conceal our cooperation from those who do not fall under need-to-know clearance.”

“Aside from attempts to talk Michael down, there’s been little in the way of communication. Even Constantine is beginning to see it as completely futile. Whatever ruse you’ve pulled on the usurper is safe, I’m sure of it,” Leo stated rather plainly. “I agree, it should be fully utilized. Our intelligence shows a force of at least a single legion of armor, and nearly four legions of infantry, so around twenty thousand or so. Not enough to effectively challenge our forces though. However, I think some agreement should be affirmatively agreed upon by us, here, today. I’m told it would put the Senate at some ease…at least those with clearance enough to know,” Leo had little idea if that was true, but it seemed infinitely better than admitted it would make Constantine breath easier.

“As you wish. I will agree to any treatise or document with which you wish to tie our forces together; Constantine is the lawful heir to his father from our perspective, so it will be an easy sell to whomever I need inform on my side.” Louis was pleased with Leo’s straightforwardness. If this would put the Latin forces at ease, then hopefully they could move as one on Castellum as quickly as possible to rescue Selene from her brothers clutches and return Latium to some semblance of order; mobilizing so much of the Imperial Military was costly, of course, and with the offerings of aid planned for the end of the war the Vannoisian economy would need as much time as possible to recover. “Our second force is massing at the border and can be ordered to join us as soon as you are ready to move on a target.”

“Very good. I’ll see to it we have something written up soon enough, for now I think a handshake or something of the like will suffice,” Leo smiled with a sigh of relief. “I’ve ordered my camp to begin preparations for moving out, I’d like to do so as quickly as possible. Most, including myself will move for Ravenna. That’s where the bulk of Michael’s force is. A few legions, I’ll be sending to Kallipolis to reinforce Constantine there,” he voiced his plans of movement aloud before retreating back to his thoughts. “We haven’t been able to goad the force from Ravenna away from the coast thus far, however.”

“Excellent. Our forces will move in concert alongside your own towards Ravenna, unless you wish for us to move to reinforce Kallipolis further; perhaps we can entice Michael’s force to ‘join’ our own, should your legions be able to conceal themselves from detection, and ambush them near Ravenna?” Louis said, calculating the speed with which the second half of his force could reach them to march on Ravenna; it likely wouldn’t take especially long, considering the army had been awaiting further orders for a few weeks now.

One of Leo’s aides pulled a large map out of a bag and unrolled it on the table. “We’ve had reports of skirmishes as far north as Augustonium in county Stabiae. They must know we’re lurking around there and likely know we’re near Espo now. But I doubt their intelligence can reach far beyond that, or even to the Vannoisian border. I don’t like to double back into Hellas, that damn river was treacherous enough the first time we crossed,” Leo pointed along all the locations on the large map, resting his hands on his hips while the two spoke. “I could take mine towards, say, on a trace downriver...with a Vannoisian host in quick pursuit. Instead you move towards Vindóbona and move at them from the west. That could work.”

“I find no problem with that…” Louis studied the map a moment, pointing to a spot just above the border. “My secondary force is awaiting further instruction there, southwest of Cléricot, and could quickly move south along whatever route is fastest.” Moving to his left, he indicated the general area of Mont Saint-Lô along the coast. “Our major fleet elements are in port there, near my former residence; the IVV Thibault I and its strike group are prepared to assist in any assaults otherwise planned. Additionally, smaller strike groups and perhaps even another division could be mobilized, with enough time given, to aid us further; though I am confident that the current forces on both sides gives us the advantage, not to mention surprise at whatever location we engage Michael’s forces.”

“That’ll do well, I think,” Leo nodded in approval. “Have your forces had your hands full with many refugees thus far? I spoke with what few willing along the journey from Hellas. The closer we were to Espo, the more they were looking to head east.”

“A fair few; we’ve mobilized a National Guard division to deal with the impact, assist the existing border guard. I haven’t a number on the exact amount that have entered Vannois but I’ve had to approve a few emergency orders to open camps and provide state assistance regarding food and shelter costs to those who qualify.” Turning to the officer at his side, who shrugged, Louis refused the urge to do the same. “I shall have my men look into the precise amounts but I recall seeing quite the flow north when we were beginning to clear the streets of Espo.”

“I heard my Uncle Theodosius was looking to do something about setting up camps where he could,” Leo noted Prince Theodosius’ command of a sizable portion of the Latin military since Jason Augustus’ death. He’d thus far been unwilling to commit the forces to anyone claimant, but the reports of him attempting to aid refugees or keep the peace appeared to be legitimate. “He hasn’t been willing to pick a side, but I can’t imagine he’d turn down some sort of peacekeeping role here.”

Louis nodded. “That would be agreeable; Theodosius is a trustworthy man, and a relation as well. I can contact him through my Aunt, Antoinette, unless you wish to make your own arrangements. I am sure my border guardsmen would appreciate the assistance.” The best scenario would be getting Theodosius’s host to assist, rather than any other; he could spin the assistance of a Prince related to himself by marriage, but any other allowance of a major military entity near the border would likely be impossible to allow. “My elected government can additionally create a new bill specifically to allow for assistance to Latin refugees on both sides of the border; until now we have only helped those who have been able to cross over to our side, but I would assume that there is likely now some backlog on the Latin side of the border. Hopefully we can keep them there so that they can reintegrate as soon as the war finishes.”

“Of course. Constantine has been in contact with him quite a bit recently. I’m told he even spoke to Michael in person, or so Leon says,” Leo wore a genuine smile, finding the meeting to be going better than expected. We can each make arrangements with him, that way we could take care of each side of the border. I’ll see the information along to Constantine and he can have the Senate do with it what they please.”

“Excellent.” Louis ran through his mental checklist for this meeting, and came up short on one issue. “I have one last point to ask you of, if you can answer it; if that is not possible I do understand, as it is something slightly far off, though hopefully not too far.” The Emperor paused, calculating, before continuing. “I would inquire as to the fate of Michael, once Castellum is taken and should he still live; Vannoisian laws would state one thing with certainty, but I am curious as to how Constantine plans to handle the traitor’s fate?”

Leo knew the answer he wanted to give the Vannoisian Emperor, but he was sure it differed from Constantine’s. “His actions are punishable by death,” though Leo never envisioned it would occur, either for Michael fighting to the last or Constantine not having the stomach. “Them being brothers complicates things. The Lord won’t look favorably upon a kinslayer, much less fratricide. If...if we arrive first and capture him, then we allow the Emperor to decide his fate,” he found the words difficult to say. Of all people, Michael’s crimes deserved death. “If not death, then I imagine exile to a heavily guarded monastery. If I had to guess.”

“I see. Unfortunate, but right in the eyes of the Lord of course…” Louis considered other options for the traitor who held his beloved prisoner, but agreed with Leo’s sentiment; he may deserve death, and God knew that if he found Selene to have been harmed under his thumb then he would likely demand such punishment, but kinslaying was no thing to be toyed with by any man, Emperor or lowly peasant. “Very well, then, Leo. I suppose we have covered all that I had hoped to; unless you have further questions for me, I believe this meeting is at a quite productive end.” Louis made to stand, awaiting Leo’s response.

“I have nothing further to add, Your Majesty. We have an agreement then,” Leo stood in turn and smiled before it quickly disappeared. “I..uh may never had seen eye-to-eye with her. But my sister...might not be alive if it weren’t for Selene. We’re eternally grateful for what she’s done. You have my word, I’ll do whatever I can to help find her,” he reached to shake his hand one last time.

Louis reached to shake his opposite’s hand, smiling slightly himself. “I thank you for your assistance, as does the Crown. God willing Selene will be well and we all may thrive once this war is at an end.” Ending the shake, the Vannoisian bowed his head for a moment to Leo, raising it after only a moment. “Godspeed to you and your host; we will meet again soon enough, I am sure.” At that, the soldiers behind Louis bowed to the Latin prince, quickly preceding their Emperor out the door and back to the convoy which was already taking in flocks of soldiers returning to the jeeps. Soon enough the vehicles were away, heading back to the Vannoisian camp.

[Lacus Magni]

To: Doge Carlos Falcone of Tericio; Prime Minister Luis Fernando Trujillo of Gran Chaco; Chief Executor James Trask of Novitera
From: Issakos Kontostefanos, Secretary of State for Foreign and Cornellian Affairs & Diana Lupei, Count of the Imperial Treasury
Cc: Imperial Offices of His Majesty Emperor Constantine XX
Subject: Cornellian Trade Organization Membership
Encryption: Low

Your Excellencies,

Upon consultation and the advice of the Senate of Latium, Emperor Constantine XX wishes for Latium to join the Cornellian Trade Organization. This decision comes following a great many discussions with trusted representatives and friends from the Grand Enclaves of Tericio. Including Eros Valent who has been ever present in Adrianople as Ducal Liaison to His Majesty.

Attached below is Latium’s official application to the CTO and signage to the required Articles of the Charter. His Majesty has also instructed government to take part in any such negotiations with your governments and the Organization itself to see proper ascension into the Organization as a full member. Consul Alexander Pompilius has already to schedule the matter of membership and Article II of the CTO Charter for a vote before the Senate. He assures that the Conservative Party majority, of which he is the leader, will pass the measure along with members of the opposition once the Senate resumes business in Castellum at the conclusion of the conflict.

On behalf of His Majesty Constantine,
Issakos Kontostefanos, SM
Secretary of State for Foreign and Cornellian Affiars

And

Diana Lupei, SM
Count of the Imperial Treasury

Link

[Ghant]

Near Espo, Latium
(Co-written with Lacus Magni)

The rain finally let up by morning, however a fog and the all around wet surroundings continued to linger as the camp grew more lively. He could tell from the moment he woke that morning. The day just had one of those feelings to it. Theodora’s room was right next to her brothers. “I’ll be in the next room if you need anything,” Leo told her before seeing her off for the last night. That seemed to put her at more ease than being told there were double the guards outside of her chambers than any other place in the military camp.

It didn’t aid her sleep. When her brother returned in the morning, her eyes were wide awake, though didn’t tell of a full night’s rest. Her brother didn’t appear all that different. “Did you sleep well?” he asked with a smile. He was dressed like a proper general, but to her he was always

No. “Well enough,” Princess Theodora smiled weakly in response. She pulled over another sweatshirt to keep warm, even though a nasty mugginess hung about entire camp. Later, an aide brought them something to break their fast on, some assortment of fruit, toast with honey, and a bit of bacon or sausage with water, juice and black tea. It was meager by anything they would have been accustomed to prior to their present circumstances, but Thea’s feasting made it seem like a pure gift from God.

At one point, Theodora managed to smile for the first time since her arrival. “It’s good,” she smiled, her hair a mess, though clean for the first time in as long as she could remember. “What happens next?”

“You’ll fly to Ghish. I’d have liked to wait a little while longer, but I’m afraid it’s not my decision,” Leo pushed his plate aside with a hint of a frown. “They’ll probably be sour that I didn’t send you along the moment you landed.” They both smiled at that as they continued their breakfast and light chat. In time, they wrapped up and made their way out to the road below.

Every footstep dug easily into the soft earth and mud once they had stepped outside. he thought upon his first steps outside of the abandoned town hall turned temporary headquarters. She could see two dim lights trying to tear through the heavy fog off in the distance. A horn honked as it neared, the two headlights stopped just in front of the headquarters.

“Salve, your Highness...Highnesses,” Legate Fontieus was his usual boisterous self, even in the morning. He was seated in the passenger seat of the recently arrived jeep. Both he and Prince Leo were dressed in similar multi-terrain pattern camouflage a lightweight jacket and matching pants. Though while Fontieus wore a light windbreaker over his jacket, Leo’s was absent. The Legate lept out of the parked jeep and gave Leo a salute.

Princess Theodora stood right next to her elder brother, gripping his hand just as tight as when she first arrived the previous day. “Morning,” Leo smiled to his Legate. “Everything all ready to go then.”

“Aye, sir. The ground been offly stubborn this morning. Gave us a little trouble at first, but we got ‘er all fueled up and ready to go. I had Virnius and Matius take a look at the beast before I called it a night. They said she’s good to make the journey, so long as there won’t be any interference,” the Legate offered up. “The others you wanted ready for flight are good as well.”

Once they arrived at the plane, Leo made sure all was ready and spoke with Theodora once more before sending her off. “All you have to do is stay right where you are and come with us,” Thea smiled as she held her brother’s hand in just inside the private plane. He sat down next to her. “Please.”

“I can’t,” he sighed, planting a kiss on her forehead. “I gave Constantine my word. And Michael needs to answer for all he’s done. He won’t get away with it, I promise.” The two shared one last embrace before Leo was ready to leave and allow the helicopter to be off towards their next destination. “Be careful, sister. You know what they’re like in Ghish...on the Council, the kind of people they are,” he gave her one last embrace and advice. “Give everyone my love.”

The Ghantar from the Embassy as well as those from the chinook would be joining Princess Theodora in her return to Ghish. Gunther and Otis had some bags, while the rest made their way towards the plane, giving their thanks to Leo as they went. Eva saw them off, though she herself would remain in Latium as per her job duties. “You might want to take a coat with you, your Highness,” Eva said gently to the Ghantish Princess. “Tis a bit nippy back home.”

Theodora looked up to her brother and then smiled to the reporter with a nod. “I’ll make sure she finds one before they leave,” Leo spoke for his sister.

Eva curtsied before showing herself off, while the rest of the Ghantar loaded the private plane. The plans that were conveyed to Leo and Theodora were that the plane would head for Ghish International Airport, where a sedan would be waiting to take Theodora to Inperiala Palace, where her brother the Emperor and sister Diana would be waiting...along with the Privy Council to ascertain Theodora’s experiences as Michael’s “guest.”

Just before the plane was set to close its doors and make its final preparations for takeoff, a Latin soldier ran up with a heavy jacket for the Princess. The soldier rushed into the plane, handing it to Leo. “It looks large enough to fit a bear,” he joked with his sister. The Prince gave her one last kiss atop her head and said his final goodbyes before departing.

“Leo,” she looked near tears just before he exited. “Thank you.”

He looked to his feet and then up at her with a smile. “Of course. Don’t forget what I said.”

Flights from Latium to Ghish were by no means short. By the time they were to arrive it would be dark, and in certain parts the weather was rough, on account of the Tempesta Ocean and then the Sea of Ghant after it. “The further we get away from Latium, the better I reckon,” Gunther commented to the others present. The plane was especially comfortable, with broad, cushy seats with tables and cabinets of an earthen hue nearby. There was a flat screen table mounted in one of them, with an old episode of the Adventures of Ghantboy playing. In black and white, it featured Ghantboy struggling against the mighty northern Dinosaur known as Gorgor.

“Err noticed how Ghantboy ner talks?” Otis pointed out as he munched on some peanuts. “Don matter ifets black ‘n white or colored, he ner talks.”

“...Ghantboy talking would ruin the show,” Gunther countered as he sipped on a bottle of beer with his feet up on a table. “He’s a silent protagonist who conveys his thoughts through action. Besides, him talking would just seem weird. It’s better this way.”

Theodora watched the television along with the rest seeing it was the only thing to pass the time. She wasn’t an avid watcher of the show, due in part to her mother’s low opinion of the show and all things associated with it, but it did have the ability to make her smile and laugh on occasion. Both feelings she desperately needed. After being silent for the better part of the flight until now, she finally decided to speak. “I don’t think I’ve seen this one before.”

Gunther and Otis looked at Theodora like deer in the headlights, as though they were surprised that she spoke. “You seen alot of Ghantboy?” Gunther asked politely. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Only a little bit...here and there,” she spoke softly. “At university occasionally, I guess.”

“Wheredyago?” Despite his mouth full of peanuts, Otis probed.

“Ghish,” she found it difficult not to giggle lightly when Otis spoke. “I took a gap year otherwise I’d have graduated already.”

Gunther’s ears perked up, then he nodded. “You must be smart then...that’s a hard school to get into.”

“I guess. I always thought it had more to do with who my family was than anything,” she shrugged her shoulders without entirely thinking about what she was saying.

To that, the Ghantish nodded, before going back to their previous activities. The night crept upon them, and eventually the Ghantar aboard the plane fell asleep, though it came more easily for some than others. Princess Theodora was left alone and given her space, though she had service available to her should she endeavor to call upon it.

The television was still playing episodes of the Adventures of Ghantboy, though it seemed most of the others had fallen asleep by now. Theodora closed her eyes often, though never for long enough to allow her to fall fast asleep. For now, she grabbed a pillow and huddled up underneath blankets and the jacket her brother gave her.

After several hours, the plane began to make its descent into Ghish, amid thick clouds full of light snow that fell in wistful flurries upon the ground below. Despite this the Ghantar mostly remained asleep, though some began to stir groggily. “Finally made it...about time,” Gunther murmured as he knocked on Theodora’s cabin door. “We’re here, your Highness.”

The Princess was lightly sleeping when she heard the knock at her door. Though it still startled her - most sounds startled her if she was unprepared for them. She breathed heavily, putting a hand over her rapidly beating heart. “Thank you,” she finally said after a long silence. She grabbed what little she brought with her, a small bag and the large heavy jacket. When she emerged from the cabin, she threw the jacket on, its hem reaching down to just above her knees.

The steps that descended from the plane to the tarmac were lowered, allowing for the passengers to make their way down from the plane. Sure enough, just outside were a few unmarked black cars, one of which with the passenger door propped open. Standing against the door in a long black coat and fuzzy cap was the Emperor himself, waiting for his sister to come to him through the light layer of snow covering the tarmac.

Theodora peered out the window just enough to see a black car and snow. She immediately knew what it was and without thinking of anyone else rushed to be the first off the plane. The Princess nearly stumbled at the first step, thankfully she was able to catch herself on the railing. With a hand gripped on the railing, she rushed down the steps and ran towards the cars in tears.

The Emperor despite decor rushed to catch her at the base of the steps, without saying anything at all, for whatever words he wished to say caught in his throat. If she fell he would catch her, though he would embrace her all the same. A few guards stood in the back by the cars, looking on at the spectacle unfolding before their eyes.

She saw Nate and Diana both during her rush down the steps. She wished to yell out to them, but couldn’t. It all appeared a blur. Once Theodora reached the last step her brother was there waiting and she jumped into his arms without a second thought.

Nathan pulled his sister into him and embraced her tightly. “Thea,” he said gently to her, with tears nearly forming in his eyes. “I’m so glad you’re home. I missed you dearly.”

“Me too,” she tried to force out through all of her tears.

Their sister Diana approached once Thea reached Nathan and stood by his side, brushing a tear from her eye as well. She hesitated to join initially, but just went right in and hugged them both together. “I’m so glad you’re safe,” Diana told her younger sister.

“Where...where’s mother?” Thea asked after some time.

Her brother answered as he ushered her towards his car. “She’s in Atmos with your cousins. I informed her that you were coming, I’m sure she’s as eager to see you as you are to see her.” Nathan paused for a second as he led her, and then added that “there are many people in the palace that are eager to see you and hear what you have to say. I told them that it can wait until the morning. Your room is just the way you left it, though rest assured Thea that you can sleep wherever you want. I can understand if you don’t want to be alone.”

“I can spend the night with you. If you want,” Diana quickly offered. Theodora didn’t reply, but held onto her brother’s hand as they walked. “It’ll be just like when we were little. Remember how much fun those were.” Thea only nodded and pushed the tears out of her face with her free hand.

“You’ll have it good,” Nathan laughed as he returned to the car and opened a door for his sisters. “I have to deal with Malibar, Taboro, Gadiel, MPs, the Edomites...Cassandra,” he teased towards the end. “I envy you already, headed back to a warm bed and a hot meal. Don’t worry, I’ll keep the vultures away at least for tonight. I can’t make any guarantees about tomorrow,” he sniggered as he gestured towards the door. “Your chariot awaits.”

“...tomorrow. Do I have to?” Theodora said once she sat in the car.

“It won’t be so bad,” Diana sat right next to her. “It’ll be all over before you know it.”

Nathan waited until his sisters were in their car before climbing in the front seat and shutting it behind him with a deep breath. The other Ghantar from the plane were shuffled into other cars. “Do you remember Lord-Ambassador Langa from the Marble Palace?” Nathan asked, almost rhetorically. “His brother is at the palace...Lord Langa from Dakmoor. He wants to know what happened...others want to know too. People that died or are missing from the Marble Palace. Only you can tell these people what you’ve been through, give them answers and some piece of mind. Most importantly however, you can give them justice. Can you do that, for the people that helped bring you home?”

Theodora opened her mouth as if to speak, yet closed it before any words arrived. She kept quiet and meekly nodded her head. “Why don’t we just get home first, hmm?” Diana took her sister’s hand and smiled. “Or...or you can tell us where you found this frumpy jacket. It looks like it was made for a bear or something. Don’t you think?” she looked to her brother.

“It’s probably Leo’s,” their brother answered as the car began to drive off. “He’s always been into the dusty old jacket look. Not that I can blame him really, given my own affinity for moth-ridden tunics.” Fortunately the drive from GIA, as the airport was called, to the Palace was not an exceptionally long one. The roads were mostly clear of cars and the sidewalks clear of people in light of the snow that was falling.

“Nate,” Theodora finally spoke up. “What if I don’t remember things? Like, how I reached the embassy or something.”

That question prompted him to lean over the seat and glance at his sister out of the corner of his eye. “If you can’t remember, then you can’t remember. If you at least try, then that’s okay by me,” he smiled before turning back to face forward again.

Theodora nodded as Diana held her hand. She looked out the window while they drove through the empty streets on their way to the palace, and kept silent for most of the car ride until they arrived. “I can find some movies to watch tonight if you want?” Diana asked Thea to try and get some response out, but she only nodded in approval.

When they arrived at the Palace, they went around the back to the side garage entrance. It was there that a young woman stood solitary in a long fur coat and ushanka hat, smoking a robust blunt that was nearly bursting out of the paper. She turned her head to see the lone sedan pull up, and then watched as the Emperor emerged from the passenger side door. “Now that Arietta’s gone the smoke spot seems to have dried up a bit,” Nathan observed as he got the door for his sisters.

“As long as there’s at least one person and at least one blunt, the smoke spot is never dry.” Anastasia titled her head to see her cousins. “You got Thea with you? She alright?”

“Ask her yourself,” the Emperor retorted as he opened the door. The driver got out and walked around to help with the baggage as a few other servants came out of the side door to assist.

Diana emerged from the car first and whispered softly into Anastasia’s ear. “She’s not talking much.”

Thea followed soon after with a flash of a smile, quickly hugging her cousin. “It’s good to see you,” she told Anastasia.

To Diana, Anastasia nodded, and then to Theodora, she looked her up and down. “It’s good to see you too,” she said as she gave her a hug. “...You wanna hit this real quick? Might calm your nerves.”

Princess Theodora looked at her cousin, then took a hit of the blunt. “Oh, come on,” Diana laughed. “Now?”

“There’s never a better time than now to get a little high,” Anastasia countered emphatically. “See? She’s feeling better already, I can tell.”

“That’s great Ana,” the Emperor said as he led the servants carrying the baggage inside. “You wouldn’t mind keeping her company then?”

Anastasia shook her head. “Not at all, it will be just like old times, isn’t that right?” she asked her cousins with a smile.

“Well put that thing out and tag along,” Diana said a bit more overzealous than intended. “We’re having a movie night sleepover in Thea’s room tonight.”

“Excellent, I’ll bring the bong,” Anastasia teased as she snatched the blunt back from Theodora and ran off inside after the Emperor and his entourage. A few more guards waltzed the vehicle bay outside on security detail, though now it was heightened in order to ensure the safety of the Emperor’s sisters.

Diana rolled her eyes before they began their walk through the palace to Thea’s room. “How long has Ana been here?” Thea asked Diana as they walked along.

“Since as long as I arrived at least,” Diana shrugged as the two followed their brother.

The servants took Theodora’s baggage straight to her room, while the Emperor and Anastasia went in different directions. The palace was unusually full of guards and security staff, with at least one in each hallway and near each wing of personal chambers. Many people were staying there, and this was evident by the smatterings of people standing around. Theodora caused some of them to stop and stare discreetly, whispering amongst themselves as she went along.

“Please tell me all of these people aren’t here for tomorrow,” Thea moaned to her sister just as they neared her bedroom. Diana opened the door, showing the room just as Theodora left it. It was largely a mess, with clothing scattered about and her bed characteristically unkempt.

“I’m not sure,” Diana stated before turning to leave the room. “I’ll go grab my things and some movies we can watch. Be right back.”

Theodora grabbed her sister by the wrist. “Don’t leave me alone,” she told Diana.

Anastasia’s room wasn’t that far away, and having rushed ahead, she had ample time to return to her cousins in a purple kimono robe and carrying a bag of chips with salsa in one hand and a large stylized bong in the other. “Back...you ready for this shit?”

Diana waited at Theodora’s request until Ana arrived. “Oh God, I thought you were kidding about the bong,” she remarked. “I’m going to grab some movies from my room, any suggestions?”

“Something light,” Theodora nodded as she hopped onto her bed and threw whatever clothing was atop it on the ground.

“Howabout Dazed and Confused?” Anastasia asked as she walked into the room and set everything down on the table. “Or maybe Pineapple Express…”

“Right…” Diana seemed less than enthusiastic at the suggestions before she left. “I might have to dig through Nate’s collection for that.”

“He doesn’t like those movies...he thinks they’re stupid,” Anastasia laughed. “But what does he know, right?”

“One of those...bring both if you can actually,” Theodora nodded, reaching her hand out for the bong as Diana nodded and walked out to gather her things.

Anastasia pulled a plastic bag out of her robe and dumped it out on the table. “I already did,” she said as the blu-ray cases spilled out and clattered on the table. “Brought a few other ones too. You see Thea, I try to always stay at least one step ahead.”

“Smart of you. Put it in and we’ll get it ready,” Theodora smiled and turned to the bong. She would have tried to call back for Diana, but she had already sped away. “Is this ready to go?”

“Not yet...damn, you’re in a hurry aren’t you?” Laughing, Anastasia went about the task of getting it ready. “I don’t know why Didi’s so uptight about weed, it’s not like it’s illegal or anything. It’s good at reducing stress, so shouldn’t that make it okay?”

“That’s just how she is. I think she gets it from mother,” Theodora got up from her bed and threw the jacket off and onto the ground. She walked to her closet to find some proper clothes for the occasion, some sweatpants and a warm flannel shirt to wrap up in. “Of all the surprising things lately, I hadn’t expected to see you when I arrived.”

Anastasia shrugged as she fell backwards onto the bed. “I hadn’t thought to be here. After this business in Latium started, my sister ‘sent’ for me, in the form of sending Imperial goons to bring me to court. I’ve been here ever since, and she won’t let me leave the palace grounds. It’s dumb, and she won’t tell me why. She’s got something up her sleeve.”

“Nate won’t let you go home? Surely he can tell Cassie to let you leave if you want,” Thea shrugged and did the final button on her shirt before hopping onto the large bed as well.

Diana walked in soon after and looked nearly out of breath. “I couldn’t find those movies, but I brought Bridesmaids and Pitch Perfect.”

“Nate fears for my safety, and doesn’t want to be cross with Cassie. I mean I don’t mind it too much, since I have my room and I can do what I want and all. It’s just annoying because I know Cassie’s up to something that involves me,” Anastasia confessed as she turned to see Diana return. “Those are good...I got Magic Mike over here too. Hell, we can just stay up and watch them all...well maybe not. There’s some shit going on in the morning. I’ll be with you though, don’t worry about that.”

“Are you still worrying about tomorrow?” Diana closed the door behind her and pressed play on the blu ray player. “It won’t be so bad, even if everyone seems grumpy. They’re all happy you’re back and like Nate said, want to know what happened.”

Theodora tried to ignore the lecture and went to check on the bong. All she wanted to do was smoke, forget everything and hopefully sleep uninterrupted for the entire night. She managed to fall asleep much easier after a few heavy hits from the bong, though woke up at some late hour all balled up underneath a single blanket as if by habit. Then sleep found her once more.

[Novitera]

Avantine, State of Soletrek, Novitera
Sunny Tom's Bar and Grill


Parker Gladwin and Mary Takeshi found themselves once again in similar circumstances. A few patrons chattered among themselves trying to ignore the men in suits standing near Takeshi. The two of them sat across from each other. Wade Setsuko, Officer of the International Trade Committee, was present as well with his own bodyguard. Before them were a set of drinks. Setsuko with his neat scotch, Takeshi a dark beer and Gladwin a glass of water that was untouched. The bar's entertainment speaker played an old rock song in the background. What few customers were there played billiards, cards or just talked among themselves.

"What a strange establishment to frequent Mary. You are quite the eccentric." Setsuko said looking around. Eyes dancing around at the decor which were mostly posters of rock and roll artists.

"Plenty of professionals come here. Howard over there works at Wallstryn Bank." Mary pointed out a man in a suit playing billiards with another man. Setsuko was an executive there before he became a National Director. He He raised an eyebrow but did not recognize the Howard.

"Too young for me to know him." Setsuko replied.

Gladwin, eager to end the small talk jumped straight to the point. "It seems our conspiracy has succeeded."

"Lucky for you it did. War would have been a Patriot and Commoner move and thus your parties would have born the penalty of public displeasure." Takeshi mused.

"A calculated risk. One which we will not reap the rewards for alone so you should be thankful. Somebody had to be assertive." Parker stated rather blandly.

Setsuko flicked a hand. "Latium has joined the CTO. No use talking about what could have been."

"I don't like the fact the Administration went behind my back Parker. " Mary chided him.

"Well Mary, let's face it, you're a good National. You tow the party line by promoting National Party values like inaction and obstruction." Setsuko said then shrugged. "Don't be bitter. The CTO is a project everyone can get behind. Free-trade, globalism, capitalism...you're a good capitalist aren't you?"

"Better than the two of you." She responded sharply.

"We didn't step on your toes. No deal was struck with Michael, just talk. We simply leaked we were in talks to back him militarily if he would join Latium to the CTO. It forced Tericio to rush for the deal themselves and pressured Constantine to take it. That's all we were really trying to do." Gladwin said.

"Ah yes, you're so clever Parker. So very clever. What if Michael took the deal and Constantine rejected? Then what? Ruin our relationship with CTO partners?" She asked.

"Nothing of the sort!" Exclaimed Setsuko. "We would have been diplomatic about it. Buy them off if we had to. And backing Michael wouldn't have been so bad. We could have parlayed our intended support for concessions from the Edomites who support Michael."

"Right, once the deal was struck both the Commoners and the Patriots would support war. The Administration would get the green light to strike deals with Tericio, Yanque and Fineberg. You make it sound like you would have been home free from there. Like you could just throw money at our CTO partners and they'll completely alter their foreign policy. While also believing that the Edomites will be so grateful we are joining the war on their side they'll give us free trade." Mary protested.

Gladwin cleared his throat. "I admit, it would have been difficult diplomatically. Yanque would have capitulated if we greased their palms with a large enough aid package. That I am confident of. Tericio would have been more difficult but the size of the Latin market would have made it worth whatever backlash they could throw at us if we could not get them on board. The net gain still would have been acceptable. As for Fineberg..." He looked at Setsuko.

"As for Fineberg, well I'm sure we could have gotten something. But if not, the plan still made sense." Setsuko reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a cigarillo. "We got the most favorable outcome so let's just count our blessings and celebrate. You have a good day Mary." He put cigarillo in his mouth and fired it up. Setsuko got up to leave, as did his bodyguards.

Once it was just Gladwin and Takeshi he lit up his own cigarette. "It's always a pleasure seeing you Mary. I look forward to working with you in the future." He said mechanically then departed. Mary simply nodded knowing his words were empty but courtesy was intended. She finished her beer then left as well.

[Lacus Magni]

“The Inquiry”
Inperiala Palace
Ghish, Ghant
(Co-written with Ghant and New Edom)

Theodora was the first to rise in the morning and quickly found her way to the shower. The running water felt like heaven to her, so much so that she remained there for nearly thirty minutes before emerging. She walked back to her closet after, unsure of what to wear for the occasion. In truth, she was still hoping that everyone magically forgot about the whole ordeal. After some debate on wardrobe, she decided on some church clothes with a plaid skirt and matching sweater top with her hair falling down to the middle of her back.

The bed was large enough for all three of them, and Anastasia was still asleep on the far side of the bed under a comforter, with an end table beside her where the chips and salsa sat out. The sun was out, trickling light in through the window, though the sleeping princess was undisturbed by that. She even snored a bit as she slept.

Diana woke to find Theodora sitting and brushing her hair, fully dressed and ready to go. “Good morning,” she rubbed at her eyes and gave Anastasia a shove to wake her. “Guess we better get ready then. Have they brought any breakfast? I’m famished and need more than chips.”

It wasn’t long after that that Anastasia woke up, and servants brought in a dining cart consisting of pancakes with maple syrup, strawberries, blueberries and whipped cream, country-fried ham and creamy mashed potatoes, chicken and dumplings, eggs both runny and scrambled, strips of bacon, buttered biscuits, fruit salad, milk, orange juice, tea and water. The servants shifted the platters and bowls onto the table and provided silverware and napkins.

“...I should probably eat some of this before I take a shower huh?” Anastasia said groggily as she rose from the bed and rubbed her eyes. “I want some of that C and D.”

Diana grabbed a plate consisting of a little bit of everything, though ate sparingly of what she took. Thea on the other hand only took a plate of pancakes at first, pouring syrup on them. She took a small bite and immediately rejected it, calling it “too sweet.” After that she mostly stuck to the fruits with small amounts of scrambled eggs, bacon and a glass of orange juice.

After eating, Diana gathered her things. “I’m going to grab a dress to throw on,” she looked to Thea. “Will you be alright?” Theodora nodded as she nibbled on small bites of her food.

Anastasia devoured a generous portion of chicken and dumplings before standing up from the table and stretching. “I’m going to take a shower...I’ll leave the bathroom door open. I figure they’ll be here shortly to take us to the council chambers.” Having said that, Anastasia grabbed a dress she brought over from last night and headed into the bathroom to shower.

Thea nodded along at Ana, leaving her seemingly alone in her room for the time being. It made her feel anxious, even more so when she heard a knock at her door, causing her to jump with a shriek. “Thea, open up,” Diana pounded on the door. “My hair is dripping wet and I locked myself out.”

Theodora felt her heart beating rapidly, but stood to let her sister in all the same. When she entered, Diana threw her dress onto the bed and rushed to find a hair drier and dry her hair as quickly as possible. Once dry, she slid into her short-sleeved white dress of navy floral patterns running around her waist, reaching both halfway down and halfway up the garment.

Anastasia emerged from the shower and dried herself off, before putting the towel around her hair and brushing her teeth. Then she put on her beige gown and let her hair fall down behind her neck, just in time for the door to get knocked upon. “Are you ready?” the Emperor asked. “It’s about that time.”

“I guess,” Theodora closed her eyes and took a deep breath before placing down her brush. Diana placed her hand on Thea’s shoulder while she still sat in front of the mirror. She could feel her trembling before Thea pushed her hand off and stood up.

“Psst,” Anastasia tried to get Theodora’s attention. “Rip this bong real quick before we go out there…”

Theodora turned slowly and nodded, though Diana looked on disapprovingly and walked outside. Thea took a heavy hit from the bong before letting out a cough. “Do I look ready?” she nervously asked Anastasia.

“Oh yeah Thea, let’s do this shit.” Offering Theodora her arm, Anastasia hit the bong too before heading towards the door. “Just remember that the worst is behind you and that everyone here are your friends...for the most part. I’ll be with you the whole way. Sound good?”

“Yes,” Theodora spoke meekly, taking her cousin’s arm for the walk. Outside, Diana was waiting with Nathan. “I’m ready,” she addressed them all.

The Emperor and his entourage nodded, and as the girls gathered, he somberly led them down the hall, flanked by guards and retainers. The further away from the Princess wing they got, the more guards there were, and the more gossipy spectators filled the void. A few minutes of walking in the direction of the council chamber, and those numbers grew, until there was a veritable line of guards on either side of the hall, with courtiers and lesser nobles on the other side of them attempting to get a good view of the action.

The double doors of the council chamber were initially closed, but were opened upon the Emperor’s approach. In the large room within, there were rows of long tables that wrapped around the room in semicircles, with a high table at the rear of the room. When the Emperor entered the room, it fell silent, where before idle conversation took place. The collective eyes of the chamber shifted to Princess Theodora as she entered.

Among those present were the entire cabinet of the Prime Minister, the latter also present, also the Leader of the Opposition Deboru Luken and his Deputy Sara Haribec, along with their respective staffs. King Taboro of Arrautsa was in attendance, as was the young King Gadiel of Gaemar and the mighty Malibar of Dakmoor, with his son Martin seated beside him. Even Empress Sophia was there, seated discreetly beside her brother and father.

King Jori of Jehenna was there along with other northern notables like Princess Amerei of Izotza and Prince Ezar of Odolargia. The great lords of the south were in accounted for, chief among them the Lords Lianu, Gendulain, Gadea, Lorazaina and Galan. The greatest representation was from Dakmoor, where many of the great lords of that land were gathered around each other, Lord Langa prominent among them especially.

The Edomites were well attended, with Captain Rosa Sharon, Princess Ava, Prince Amenmar and even Princess Jocasta and her husband Michael of Dakmoor, Malibar’s second son. General Augrim, the dark haired, hook nose, hooded eyed brooding Chief of Army Staff was present as well. A tall lean man of dark olive complexion, he had arrived with Jocasta and Michael and as he was in Ghant was not naked and painted but wore a blue parade dress uniform with his medal ribbons on it. He always bore a battered sheathed sabre though he would courteously give it up to Nathan’s guards if he must, though fortunately for him the Emperor’s Guard-Captain Ser Damien Voor let him keep it. Augrim had the demeanor of a hawk perched on a branch in the desert, scanning all around him. Very clearly however Jocasta had the place of precedence in the middle of the Edomite group, in a rich blue gown that showed of her light olive skinned shoulders, throat (with gold cross at it) and a hint of upper curve of her bosom. Her dark hair was piled high in a braided crown which showed off her lovely oval face. A hand idly caressed Michael’s powerful forearm possessively. She was all too aware that Michael had known, in the carnal way, several ladies of rank and position who were here. Also present was Rafaella Unwerth acting as a lady-in-waiting to Princess Ava and Lieutenant Count Uzziah Sharra as an ADC to Prince Amenmar.

Of the Gentries, Prince Stephen and his son Prince Alexander were present, along with Prince Christopher, Princess Cassandra, Prince Edward, Prince Peter and his son Paul were seated opposite of the Dakmarans, their mutual distaste palpable even from opposite sides of the room. Cassandra was feeling ill of late, and her eyes lingered contemptuously upon her younger sister Anastasia as she walked into the room red-eyed. Prince Olyvar of Thule wasn’t far away from them, his eyes lingering on Lady Rafaella. Fortunately for him, the Orinberes were not present, most likely because they considered such an affair beneath their concern.

Theodora walked slowly into the council chamber. If it weren’t for Anastasia walking along side of her, she would have already tried to back out of the room. “I can’t do this,” she mumbled to herself, anxious and breathing heavily as she felt all eyes on her.

Anastasia stiffened her back, as the Emperor followed closely behind his cousin and his sister. Together they made their way towards the table upon the dais, and there the Emperor pulled a chair out for Theodora, Diana and Anastasia, respectively. Guards formed up around the table to create separation between them and the assembled lords, princes and politicians present. Once they were seated, Sara Haribec coughed into her hand while she opened a manilla folder with the other, and approached a table in the front, just in front of the dais. She took a seat methodically, and examined the contents of her folder.

Prince Amenmar stroked his monkey’s soft black and white fur and murmured to Rosa Sharon, “There were no briefings, no preparations for this in the Palace?”

“None, Excellency,” she murmured back in Baran. “She arrived, was cared for kindly, no one really discussed anything but the logistics of getting her here.”

Prince Amenmar fed Barsina a walnut. “Well well.” He acted impassive but smiled inside.

“Ahem,” Haribec coughed as she looked up towards the dais. “Your Highness Princess Theodora, thank you for joining us on such short notice. As you are probably aware we are conducting an investigation into the events that have recently transpired in Latium. As someone who was there personally, your testimony would do a great deal in providing us with first-hand knowledge of not only your treatment, but of the veracity of Prince Michael of Latium’s claims and the events that unfolded at the Marble Palace. Now before I begin, I want to make sure that you are comfortable with giving a testimony and that you are willing to tell us the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth. Do you find these things agreeable?” she asked gently and with a warm, friendly smile.

“Yes, I do,” Theodora spoke faintly, repeating herself again just as nervous though more audible the second time.

“Very well,” Sara said bluntly. “Then let us begin, shall we? Let’s start from the top, for the benefit of everyone here. What happened immediately following Emperor Jason’s death?”

“I umm...we were having a family dinner, that Uncle Jason had been planning for some time. Everyone but Uncle and Michael were there. A uh..uh guard, I think came and asked for Aunt Marsella and the next thing I knew some Praetorians barged in and said the Emperor was dead,” she began to explain, her nerves being apparent in her voice and shaking hands. “The Prefect...Prefect, I’m sorry I forget his name, started to talk with Constantine and Leo, then they all they both told us we had to leave. We shuffled out of the room, I was just behind my brother, holding his shirt and I got caught on the door and the next thing I remember was being dragged into a room by some people I don’t know. Umm, Adrian beat them away from me and walked me to my room. Michael came by the next morning.”

“Thank you, your Highness.” Miss Haribec turned her head to see her secretaries taking notes, while the rest of the room sat quietly and listened. Then she turned back to the Dais and asked, “can you describe what happened next? Your...captivity, if you will, that was what followed? How was that?”

Princess Jocasta raised her eyebrows and gestured to Prince Amenmar who leaned over. Barsina climbed into her lap and cuddled against her, which pleased her. “Of thy courtesy, can she just lead the witness like that?” she murmured to him in somewhat stilted Old Baran. Prince Amenmar was about to reply when MIchael did.

Michael told Jocasta that “it’s a Parliamentary inquiry...we can ask questions once the Inquisitor has concluded her line of questioning.”

Jocasta nodded, stroking Barsina’s soft fur while the monkey chittered quietly and played with her golden cross. She watched the two women, the inquisitor and princess, with her clear intense gaze.

“He said that Leo tried to kill him, even though he didn’t. He’d never do anything like that, he wouldn’t,” Theodora’s voice rose considerably, but her nerves still persisted. “I...I was sleeping one night, they barged into my room and threw a bag over my head. Took me somewhere, I don’t know a dungeon maybe. There was no bed...only a small window. He came in and said that Nathan sent a letter that said,” she finally started to draw tears. “That said Nate didn’t even ask about me or Diana. And that it meant he didn’t care.”

The Emperor gradually turned red-faced, and towards the end of Theodora’s statement he shot up from his seat. “Michael is a liar! I…”

Sara was looking down at her notes when the Emperor exclaimed. She cut him off by raising her hand and saying firmly, “Please don’t interrupt.” the rest of the room began to erupt in quiet commotion as Sara pulled out some papers and handed them to a staffer. “We have copies of the letters sent between His Majesty the Emperor and Prince Michael, four to be precise, two addressed each way. I’d like for you to see them, and if you could, speak to the truth of Prince Michael’s words to this Council.” the staffer approached one of the guards, handing him the papers. The guard then handed them to Princess Theodora. Other staffers handed out transcripts to the assembled Council so they could read the letters themselves. “Please, take your time reading them.”

Code: Select all

To: Michael of Latium
From: Nathan, Fourth of His Name, Emperor of Ghant, High King of the Ghantar, King of Gholghant, King of Low Ghant, Lord of Ghish, Lord of Gaztelua, Lord of Gholgoth and Protector of the Realm
Subject: Events in Latium
Encryption: High

Dear Michael,

I would first like to extend to you my sincerest condolences on the loss of your father. As a man who lost his father before his time, I can relate to what you and your family must be going through, and my heart is heavy with grief. Your father was both a good man and a good Emperor who served his country well and loved his family. He will be remembered fondly not only by myself, but by the people of Ghant. We mourn together as a nation.

Now, having said that, I must react with both horror and confusion at your telling of the events subsequent to your father’s passing, in particular as it concerns my brother Leo. I’ve always known Leo to be a man of honor, and a man that loved your father like a second father. To hear you name him traitor, as well as bastard, is quite alarming. I have a hard time believing that he would betray your father…if Leo was as traitorous as you indicate, no doubt he would have attempted to betray me long ago in order to seize the throne of Ghant. Yet he has never done any such thing, nor given any indication of such inclinations.

I also find it shocking that Empress Marsella would conspire to murder you and your sister, for as long as she has been married to your father, I have known of the love she bore him as well as you and your brother and sisters. Such an about-face is unexpected, and quite surprising. Regardless, I intend to ascertain the veracity of these claims, and should I find them to be true, then I shall proceed accordingly.

You say also that all but your sister Selene and my sister Princess Theodora escaped…it relieves me to know that my sister Theodora is accounted for. Surely you would be so kind as to return my sister to Ghish posthaste, for a love my brothers and sisters as much as you love yours, and I miss her deeply.

Thank you, and sincerely,

Nathan IV,

Emperor of Ghant

Code: Select all

To: Emperor Nathan IV of Ghant
From: Michael VIII, Emperor of the Latins
Subject: Re: Events in Latium
Encryption: High

Your Majesty,

Yes, thank you. Your kind words are duly noted and recorded. But I must admit, I’m confused to hear you speak this way of your brother and his “honor.”

I call him a bastard because that is simply what he is. You can’t tell me it hasn’t bothered you that your father treated your mother so horribly. The way he cast your mother - his wife - aside for my aunt, it must dig away at you I’m sure. It makes me realize we’re not so different you and I. Though I pity you, I really do, you had it much worse; you had to live with that living proof of your father’s shameful actions until your uncle did you the favor of ridding them away whereas I had the benefit of only just discovering who my bastard siblings were. As for your “horror and confusion” at hearing these acts your brother committed, I’d remind you that we never realize one’s true treacherous nature until they act, mayhaps Leo is simply biding his time for you to commit yet another blunder and steal the throne from you. Though perhaps not, again I can only tell you what I saw that day my father died.

As for Lady Atmos, she has been maneuvering for some time to make my father’s Praetorians her own. Even when my Father sensed these movements he reshuffled the Guard, though her cousin the Euforbenos traitor continued to rise to the post of Deputy Prefect. It was he who she sent to murder my dear sister and I. He paid with his life, it pains me to tell you. Should Lady Atmos appear in Ghant, I’d hope that our governments can work together for her return to Latium as she is under investigation for a plethora of crimes with a warrant issued for her arrest.

Though I digress, I do have your sister. In fact I dined with her the last night, and given all everyone in the capital has been through she remains in good spirits. However, it pains me to say that I must deny any return of Theodora Gentry to Ghish at this time. Due to the actions of my brother and even those of your own brother, the current climate is far too tense to risk such a venture. Why, if anything happened to Theodora I’d never be able to forgive myself. I hope that you understand why your sister is safer in Castellum than anywhere at this point in time. However, should you ever come across my own family, I’d very much love the chance to look on them once more. Please keep me up to date in their regards and shall do so to the status of your dearest sister.

Signed,
Michael VIII
Emperor of the Latins

Code: Select all

To: Michael of Latium
From: Nathan, Fourth of His Name, Emperor of Ghant, High King of the Ghantar, King of Gholghant, King of Low Ghant, Lord of Ghish, Lord of Gaztelua, Lord of Gholgoth and Protector of the Realm
Subject: RE: RE: Events in Latium
Encryption: High

Dear Michael,

I appreciate your candidness as always. I’ve always considered that one of your finest attributes, even as children. Although, you’ll have to forgive me for not wishing to engage in semantics with you regarding what my brother and sisters are and are not. Regardless of the circumstances surrounding their birth, they are my brother and sisters and by my own Imperial decree so named Prince and Princesses of Ghant.

Based upon this, I would be remiss were I not to thank you for taking such care as far as my sister Theodora is concerned. It is a relief to know that she is safe and unharmed. Having said that, I will have to insist that she is returned to Ghish, by means that we can arrange between us…I’d be more than happy to send a private plane to a location of your choosing if it suits you. Fact of the matter is, she is a Princess of Ghant, and a lawful citizen of this country, and as the Emperor of this country, I want her here with me. I would do the same for you, were our situations reversed, as it is only common courtesy.

Between you and I, I would be more inclined to return any of your family members to you if they were to turn up in Ghant, if you were to return my sister to me posthaste. Afterall, as we say in Ghant, if you scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours. Please consider this, and be well in any event.

Thank you, and sincerely,

Nathan IV,

Emperor of Ghant

Code: Select all

To: Nathan IV of Ghant
From: Michael VIII, Emperor of the Latins
Subject: Re: Events in Latium
Encryption: High

Spare me your false pleasantries, your Majesty. Know that your sister is safe and no harm will come to her. I have no intentions to harm my own blood, no matter how dirty it may be. Again, I must reject your insistence that Theodora be returned to Ghant. I’d remind you that she is also a citizen of Latium, by law I am not required to hand over citizens of Latium to foreign governments or Sovereigns. I hope you understand, but in times such as these where brother accuses brother of violating the law, I can’t give the appearance of using my power to violate the laws I’m expected to uphold. I know for all the poison in his mind that Constantine would still agree on that point.

If it is revealed that my siblings are active in Ghant, I would be very interested in an exchange. However, I wouldn’t be able to authorize an exchange until I know for certain the whereabouts of my siblings, and until they are safely back in Castellum. I’m sure you can appreciate my feelings on that matter.

And Nathan, be sure to keep your eyes glued to the television for any announcements from me in the coming days. I’m sure you don’t believe much of what I have to say, but soon I will offer you proof of your sisters safe and living status.

Signed,
Michael VIII
Emperor of the Latins

“...This doesn’t look good for Michael at all, you do realize?” Michael whispered to Jocasta.

Jocasta said quietly, “Nonsense. This is just posturing and conjecture at this stage of things.” She watched the two women with evident attention, the calm intensity of the inquisitor and the unhappiness of Theodora. “I love her gown” murmured Ava to Jocasta. “And she looks exquisitely sad, worthy of an epic poem…”

Theodora read over the letters as best she could. Her tears fell on the paper when she read Nathan’s letters. She knew Michael was lying, but seeing her brother cared gave her some little form of courage. “I wasn’t unharmed or safe from anything other than escaping my captivity. Michael did visit a few times early on I think, that was really the only time I was fed more than scraps,” she wiped the tears as she looked at her lap from her face, but no matter how much she tried they persisted. “Sometimes they hit me, then it was just the fear of it. I don’t even remember how I got to the embassy, only that Leon helped and Selene was involved in someway.”

The commotion in the room began to rise, while the look on the Emperor’s face could only be described as burning rage, though he kept his mouth shut. His hands were in the guise of clenched fists, however. Miss Haribec pursed her lips for a few moments as she jotted down a few notes. “Can you tell us anything about what Michael’s plans were for you? Did he tell you anything, or did you find anything out that gave you any insight into anything of the sort? And what prompted your escape?”

“Plans? You must not know Michael,” Theodora was confused by the question. “And never really said much of any meaning and his visits were less and less. I think he’d talk about how I can’t go home because of how dangerous Leo and Kostas made things. And I don’t know how the escape happened, except for Leon and Selene were involved.”

“Thank you, your Highness. What can you tell us about your trip to the Marble Palace, and what happened once you arrived there?” Sara asked gently, though rather dryly at that.

“I don’t remember much, but there was a cave, a car and we crashed through a gate,” Theodora repeated her limited remembrance of escape events.

Sara scratched a few more things down and said, “I see...is there anything else you’d like to add before I allow for an open forum?”

“Open forum? They said it was just the council,” Theodora’s nerves began to resurface as she tugged on the sleeves of her sweater. Even if she wanted to say how awful Michael was, her disinterest in speaking on the matter was a top priority.

Looking around, Sara then turned back to Theodora and said, “your Highness, this is the Council. A Council of Peers.” Sara scanned the room and said, “at this time I will accept inquiries from the Council.”

Lord Langa was the first to ask a question. “Lord Orin Langa, if it please Your Highness. When you last saw my brother Laurendi at the Marble Palace...what did he tell you? Can you recall anything that he said?” There was grief in the middle-aged man’s voice.

“He umm...he said that Nathan left plans and that a helicopter would take me to Leo,” Theodora started to cry again once she realized who she was speaking with. “I’m sorry I wish I knew more, my Lord, truly. If it weren’t for your brother...I’m sorry.”

Prince Amenmar stood up. “Majesty, Highnesses….my Lords...I think it is clear that the Princess is in a great deal of distress. Both for her sake and for the sake of truth, which may be marred by this distress and the pressures put upon her to remember what she has come here to say...may I make a recommendation that she be given opportunity to gather herself and be comforted by her family? I am sure as well that many here…” he looked at Lord Langa, “Need time to process what they have heard and consider issues that affect their families and particular. May I recommend that there be a recess?”

Once again, Michael turned to Jocasta and said softly, “she didn’t really prove to be the smoking gun, did she?”

Jocasta murmured, “No, honey, she didn’t.”

Sara Haribec turned to Prince Amenmar. “I agree...I think that her Highness’s testimony is sufficient for the time being.” Turning to Princess Theodora, she said “that will be all for now, your Highness.” Looking back to the crowds, Sara added, “though before we break for recess, I’d like to call another to the dais for testimony. Lord Commander Andronikos Mavrozomes of the Latin Scholae Palatinae.”

At that particular moment, the Emperor rose and ushered his sisters down from the dais to another part of the chamber, as the double doors of the council chamber opened. Entering the room was the Lord Commander with Imperial guards surrounding him on all sides, though the man was unbound and appeared to be in decent condition. The Ghantish present looked at him with looks of interest combined with apprehension, for the man was one that was implicated in a number of Michael’s worst plots.

Lord Commander Mavrozomes was a man in his early-sixties, and entirely Hellenic in his appearance with a grizzled, graying beard and receding hair. His face was emotionless as he was escorted into the council chambers wearing a black suit with a white shirt and crimson tie. The Imperial Guards escorted him to the dais, which was now vacant, leaving its entirety to him for the occasion. The Emperor, along with his sisters and cousins, found an area near the rear of the chamber to sit, away from prying eyes.

Once Mavrozomes was taken to his seat at the dais, the room fell quiet as people sat still and stared at the man with varying degrees of intensity. Sara smiled at the man assuredly, and said to him, “greetings, Lord Commander. I am Sara Haribec, MP representing Oniaherri, Deputy Leader of the Opposition and Chairman of the Latin Investigation Committee. As such I am also the Inquisitor of this Inquiry, and I would like to ask you a series of questions about your involvement in recent events occurring in Latium. Are you ready and willing to provide the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, in the eyes of Gods and men?”

“I am,” Mavrozomes’ eyes combed around the chambers as he confirmed the oath in Latin, though with a heavy accent. He appeared more calm than one would have expected out of a man in his present circumstances.

“Please, Lord Commander, tell us your name, rank and position, and under what circumstances you’ve joined us today,” Sara said invitingly.

“My names is Andronikos Mavrozomes, formerly Lord Commander of the Scholarian Guard of Latium,” the Hellene told the chamber. “I was placed into custody following the events at the Marble Palace in Castellum and have offered to share my testimony of Michael’s regime.”

Sara nodded as she shifted through his dossier, while there began some subtle whispering amongst the Ghantish present. “Of course. Describe your role in the court of Emperor Jason.”

“I was appointed Lord Commander in 2007. I rarely, if ever, attended court or the required meetings since the Emperor also provided clearance to my deputies,” the Lord Commander explained.

The Inquisitor took a few notes as he spoke, and then she asked him, “can you explain your relationship with Emperor Jason?”

The Lord Commander stated that "following my appointment ceremony I was told the Emperor wished to speak with me. He informed me that if he had it his way, I would have been dishonorably discharged a decade ago and the only reason he assented to my appointment is because the other officers, Scholarian, Praetorian or otherwise wouldn't stand for its denial. It was only by virtue of the military and other chiefs of staff high esteem with the overall order of precedence in matters of promotion that he accepted.”

“Any idea what prompted those feelings?” Sara probed methodically, as though she were a shrink treating a psych patient.

“In July 1991 it was my duty to oversee Princess Stephanie’s security detail for her visit to Heraclea, along with local police and the Prince’s personal guard,” the Greek spoke calmly. “Because I ‘couldn’t protect her from a car accident,’ he blamed me for her death.”

“I see.” Before asking her next question, Sara quickly glanced around the room, before refocusing on Mavrozomes. “Describe what happened around the time of Emperor Jason’s death.”

Mavrozomes explained, “the Emperor’s secretary phoned me, stating that the Emperor requested my presence immediately. When I arrived, I was met by Prince Michael, who informed me Emperor Jason had passed away,” the Hellene spoke calmly. “He declared that his father wished him to be Emperor and that his ‘brother, bastard cousin and the Empress consort would cause problems.’ After a brief discussion, that resulted in a payment of £1,000,000 to myself and promise of further advancement. I then ordered my most trusted Legates to arrive at the Palace with enough of our local force to overwhelm any Praetorians that could potentially cause problems.”

“Thank you.” Once again, Sara looked around to each side, her pause a bit longer than the previous. “Describe what happened between Michael and Marsella.”

“We coerced a Praetorian to lure the Empress consort away from the rest of the family, at the Prince’s urging. I instead suggested that it would be best to simply storm the dining hall, which he rejected. She was successfully lured to the former Imperial chapel, where Michael confronted her. He asked for her compliance with his attempted succession by trying to coerce her. She refused. I struck her and he allowed my men to have their way with her once it became clear she was of no assistance and only another liability.”

The Lord Commander’s words caused an immediate uproar to the point that the end of his last sentence was nearly cut off. The Lord Paramount of Nathia, along with Hector Atmos, stood up, the latter of which bearing steel. “I will have this man’s head!”

Lord Lianu stood up, and was joined by his bannermen. “This is an insult against Lady Marsella that cannot be tolerated. I demand justice…”

The Imperial guards placed their hands on their weapons, and stood poised to defend Mavrozomes. “And you shall have it, my lords,” Sara said with a raised hand. “Lower your weapons and sit down. This Inquiry is by no means finished, and it is under Imperial authority that this takes place. Bear steel in this chamber again, and you shall be held in contempt. Do you understand?”

“All too well,” Hector said defiantly as he stared at Mavrozomes, sheathing his sword reluctantly. He sat back down, while his fellow Nathian lords followed suit. Yet they all stared contemptuously at the Lord Commander as he sat upon the dais.

Mavrozomes only smirked before carrying on as if there were no interruption. “Somehow word had gotten out of the Emperor’s demise and Deputy Praetorian Prefect Euforbenos barged into the chapel. He declared the Emperor had died and soon after drew his weapon. I shot and killed him, but the others with him aided the Empress in escaping before any bodily harm came to her.”

Sara had taken control of the Inquiry again, and took a drink of a cool glass of water. “What was your role in Michael’s government?”

“I was finally able to carry out my lawful obligations as Lord Commander, along with overseeing Michael’s new personal guard and a position as Privy Councillor. I was also tasked with the curfew throughout Greater Alba and other controlled areas, and ensuring the Scholarians at the front were properly integrated.”

“Naturally so,” the Inquisitor said without looking up. “What can you tell us about Theodora's treatment and what Michael's plans for her were?

“The circumstances of her capture were entirely a fluke of circumstance. Lord Adrian Ulpius was the first to find the her while she was cornered into a nearby room. These men involved in trapping her were, admittedly, Scholarians. I'm not rightly sure how Ulpius managed to subdue these four assailants, but he did and walked the Princess to her chambers where he waited until a physician could be summoned. As far as I know, the worst to come from the event was a little torn clothing. All four of her assailants were summarily executed.”

At this point, the Ghantish were sitting on pins and needles. The Nathians were stewing amongst themselves, no doubt plotting their retribution, while the rest of them listened carefully, especially the Gentries.

“She remained confined in her room at the Palace, provided with food, water and all her needs. Michael visited her on occasion though she wasn't allowed to have visitors other than Michael. She remained in Castellum until her brother Leo raised some legions. That event greatly angered Prince Michael. So that night we bagged her and moved her to a more secure location at Villa ad Pontes, which by all accounts is a decaying ruin of structure.”

Like a coiled snake, the Emperor sat still, though appearing ready for another outburst, depending on what the Lord Commander said next.

“Her guards at Pontes reported that she attempted to escape and fought back. Their report noted they had struck her a number of times. Afterwards she was only fed once a day at a random time, given water twice a day. She would woken up abruptly in the middle of the night. Often times she was struck by the guards for talking back, things of that nature.”

“...I want those men’s heads on spikes,” the Emperor said softly, not loud enough to be heard throughout the chamber, but loud enough to where those sitting near him could hear.

“The Council advised Michael to negotiate an exchange for Theodora to receive Princes Peter and Philip and Princesses Maria, Polyxena and Olivia, working on the assumption they had fled to their family. However, Michael rejected that advice claiming that we would never be told the truth given their familial relations for the children by Atmos and what Michael declared to be a 'pathetic lust' the Emperor had for Maria. He determined that the likelihood of any such deal occurring was next to nothing. Following that, Michael knew that Ghant wouldn’t intervene if the Emperor’s sister was a hostage. From then on he decided to keep her confined and isolated and used her as a hostage. And the Council agreed.”

That was a good amount of information, and there was at least a minutes pause as Sara made sure the information was transcribed before she pressed on. “What can you tell us about the attack on the Embassy?”

“My orders for the embassy were to close off the surrounding streets, ensure that no citizens were able to enter the embassy’s own checkpoints or gates. If they encountered any official diplomat or diplomatic staff with immunity, my orders were to not interfere and allow passage. If members of the aforementioned class wished to leave, orders were to have them followed."

At this part, the Lords of Dakmoor, by far the most powerful and numerous in number, leaned in a little bit closer in order to catch every detail.

"We knew the Princess had escaped by way of Princess Selene and Leon Palaiologi-Oriundi, both missing from the Palace during a power outage. I was informed that a pair matching the description of Princess Theodora and Lord Leon had been stopped at one of our checkpoints in front of the embassy. Apparently the boy managed to slam through the checkpoint and gates before the order to detain them could be given.”

By now even Sara glanced over her shoulder at the Lords of Dakmoor, knowing that they would prove more truculent than the Lords of Nathia if they were told something that they didn’t want to hear about the Lord Ambassador.

“To my knowledge there was no definite order to attack the embassy, at least none that came through me, as I was not on site at the time of the attack. However, Prince Michael saw it fit to ensure the pair didn’t leave the grounds once that first shot had been fired.”

Amidst rising commotion once more, Sara asked carefully, “Ensure how, by any means necessary? Did he order her murder?”
"As I said,” Mavrozomes kept calm, though didn’t appear to enjoy having to repeat himself. “The order was to make sure neither Princess Theodora or Leon Palaiologi-Oriundi escaped the embassy grounds. There was never an explicit order demanding her death. I'd imagine, though, that at worst he would find her being injured to be acceptable. As for Leon, he would have been promptly 'tried' and executed upon his capture for desertion among other crimes.”

The whispering grew louder, intensifying as Mavrozomes continued to give his testimony. Though once Sara asked her follow-up question, the room fell silent as a crypt. “What is the fate of Lord Ambassador Langa, and what were your orders as far as the embassy and its staff were concerned?”

“Lord Ambassador Langa was killed in the attack on the embassy. I attended the scene prior to my own arrest, he appeared to have fought of a number of soldiers with a sword before finally being fatally shot himself.”

The Lords of Dakmoor were not so testy as to bear steel, though Lord Langa did exclaim. “I join my voice to the Lords of Nathia. I demand retribution for crimes committed against my house. I demand justice for my brother’s murder!” Others agreed, among them Lords Loi, Daga, Zama, Sastagai, and Moro, the latter of which was arguably the most powerful banner house of Dakmoor. Malibar, Martin and the Dains attempted to calm them, with Alaric Dain saying, “this Inquiry isn’t finished, my lords. Let us ascertain all of the facts first.”

“I’ve heard enough,” Lord Moro countered. “We have enough to justify the use of force now.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Malibar countered with a strong tone. “Alaric Dain is right. Bite your tongue and be still.”

They did so, but the room was full of subtle conversation and stiff with tension. Sara was aware of this, but kept a firm demeanor about her as she asked the Lord Commander “What was Michael's reaction to the attack?”

"I only attended him briefly before my own arrest. But he was generally apathetic around the entire ordeal and quickly went back to whatever it was he had been doing before our brief meeting. I heard laughter both before and after I met with him. I was arrested not long after that."

The Lords of Nathia and Dakmoor were now joined by the usually reserved Lord Gendulain, who was the Lord Paramount of Gahen. “This usurper Michael laughs at us, mocks us while he orders our noblewomen beaten and threatens them with rape. He imprisons and tortures our Imperial Princesses, tries to kill them, and then laughs as our lords and diplomats are murdered in their embassies! I agree with my colleagues, what recourse do we have but war?”

The rest of the southern lords nodded in agreement, including Nathan’s uncle Hodei Gadea, who ruled Gotorleku and his brother-in-law, Lord Lorazaina who ruled Lurberdea. The northerners were more calm than that, and didn’t seem especially incensed. None of them seemed as ready for war as their southern counterparts.

“I will have order in the chambers,” Sara said loudly as she banged on the table with a large wooden gavel. The Emperor, understandably upset at what the Lord Commander had been saying, said to the nobles “let’s wait until this thing is concluded before we start clamoring for war, shall we my lords?” Sensing the Emperor’s position, they began to begrudgingly accept, and stayed their tongues.

“Excuse me,” said Prince Amenmar, who had been sitting quietly like a cat, among the other Edomite dignitaries. “May I ask a question, Madame inquisitor?”

“You may,” Sara told the Ambassador-Prince from New Edom. “This is now an open forum.”

“So very kind,” said Prince Amenmar. “I would like to know, Lord-Commander, how privy you were to the, er, claimant to the Latin throne, Michael, and his policies regarding the Empire of Ghant.”

The Lord Commander looked down at his tie, contemplating the question before smiling. “As I said, I sat in a number of meetings where he discussed policies and the like,” his smile receded and he took a deep breath. “Those in this room should be more concerned about the things he said outside of meetings.”

“I see. I’ll come to that in a moment,” said Prince Amenmar with a faint smile. “Why did you not resist Michael of Latium’s orders about Empress Marsella, the imprisonment of Princess Theodora and the attack on the Ghantish embassy?”

“I am a soldier. I obey,” the Hellenic man stated stoically.

“What did you advise Michael of Latium about capturing the Empress Dowager of Latium and Princess Theodora?” asked Prince Amenmar, studying his nails a moment idly.

“I advised him to simply storm the dining hall, he refused and said he desired to converse with the Empress. If the boy had plans for her after their chat, he didn’t share them,” the Lord Commander stated. “And again, as I said, the advice from myself and the council was to exchange the Princess for Prince Michael’s siblings.”

“Why did you not offer to resign rather than violate international law?” Prince Amenmar asked.

The Lord Commander’s face had been plain and generally emotionless until this point, but the most recent round of questions seemed to draw some anger out in him. “If you were listening, you would have heard me say that no order to storm the embassy ever came from my lips.”

Prince Amenmar looked at him with astonishment rearing back like a startled horse. “Wait...wait a moment…” he touched his temple with his right hand and shook his head. “You--the Lord Commander--were unaware of this attack taking place? How is that possible?”

“Is that what I said? Once...again...I was on my way to the site when word reached me that the Princess and her helper were spotted. Something happened and an attack occurred. Things happen. Boys conscripted and pressed into service with little to no training have nervous fingers. It could have been any number of things for all I know,” Mavrozomes rose his voice. “By the time I’d arrived the damage was done. I was attending to the scene for the brief amount of time I was enabled and arrested shortly after that.”

“Why were you arrested if someone else in the chain of command gave the orders for the attack?” asked Prince Amenmar.

“You would have to ask the boy that question. Or the Duchess of Vindóbona, she was the one present when they came for me,” Lord Commander Mavrozomes appeared tense before smiling and laughing to himself quietly. “I suppose they never expected me to open my mouth like this.”

“Who did give the actual orders?” said Prince Amenmar.

The Lord Commander found it difficult to hold his smile in, no doubt he was thinking of home. “Who knows? The boy maybe, the Duchess, or General Caelius? Or no one, perhaps. But it was not me and I won’t let them make me take the blame for it. The other things, sure, but not this.”

Prince Amenmar said, “I see. Then...you don’t know who gave the orders to attack the embassy.” he glanced around. “But you were present when Empress Marsella was arrested, corrected?”

“Correct,” Mavrozomes smile shifted to deadpan. “She probably would have been killed that night if not for the Deputy Praetorian Prefect’s timely arrival.”

“Who ordered the Scholarians to seize the Empress Marsella?” asked Prince Amenmar.

“I did, at the boy’s command,” the Lord Commander said considering his next words. He was somewhat worried of talking back, though decided against his concerns. “Anything else you’d like me to repeat?”

“Lord Commander,” said Prince Amenmar quietly, “Why was it necessary for you to order your men to brutalize Princess Theodora?”

“I enabled them to use their own discretion when it came to most aspects of the Princess’ confinement at Villa ad Pontes after her first attempt at escape,” the Greek soldier stated. “This would have been one of those circumstances. You’ve heard those in this room and seen what’s happened since her arrival...there would be no surprises from the response if she escaped. Just as we’ve seen.”

“Your troops were incapable of keeping a pampered young woman of sheltered background in her quarters and making sure she was fed and watered?” said Prince Amenmar skeptically. “Lord Commander, I put it to you that you are either trying to trick this august company or that you are incompetent.”

Lord Commander Mavrozomes smiled. “Girl’s more clever than she seems. Don’t underestimate desperate. But believe what you will, sir. I gave my word that I would speak the truth before this council. And just as I followed orders throughout my career, I have followed the oath I gave here...today.”

Prince Amenmar glanced at Sara. “I find all this rather hard to believe. My government agreed to an investigation to which we have only been party as observers and as part of this open forum. I would like to propose a recess now.”

“One more question before a recess,” Sara countered politely. “You said that those in this room would be more concerned about what Michael said about his policies regarding Ghant outside of meetings of state. Would you mind elaborating on what he’s said to that effect?”

“There weren’t policies, my Lady. Not outside of the meetings,” Mavrozomes turned his attention towards the Inquisitor. “They were threats. Threats of revenge, destruction, annihilation. They became more and more common after the one he called bastard gained an army, but the remarks and rants were there from the beginning.”

“Any of these directed at Ghant or its leaders specifically?” Sara probed further despite growing uproar from those present.

“A great many,” the Greek stated plainly.

“Who else was present?” Prince Amenmar asked.

“The Frontalia girl was usually nearby or directly engaged,” Mavrozomes kept his focus on the Inquisitor instead of the speaker. “It varied though, sometimes no one other than me or his guard. If the Princess traveled here with Lord Leon, he would have been on hand for a few of the tirades.”

Prince Amenmar waved a hand wearily.

Princess Jocasta muttered to Prince MIchael, “All this is nothing but supposition designed to offend the honour of the great lords here.”

“...It seems rather effective, love,” Michael said with a subtle groan as he noticed the collective lords express their outrage. An MP from Dakmoor stood up, and gestured for the right to address the chamber.

“If I might say, my lords and ladies,” the MP named Mardo Beldobas said in a gentle tone. “Are we going to base a decision on the word of this man? This admitted traitor, who has betrayed not one, but two Latin Emperors?”

The northerners nodded in agreement, while one of them, Olyvar of Thule, stood up and seconded his sentiment. “My father the King of Thule says that the word of a traitor is worth less than the shit frozen to a dog’s ass. I’d sooner listen to a parrot then this filth that sits before us.”

Princess Ona of Izotza echoed Olyvar’s sentiments. “Indeed, is it not wiser, more prudent even, to make great decisions such as war only after no other choice is given to us? Let us bring these words to Michael himself, and see what he has to say about him. If he is truly as vile and guilty as the Lord Commander indicates, he shall reveal himself to us, and we shall respond in turn.”

“It’s easy to speak of patience, and deference, when it is your kin that have not been murdered, tortured, threatened with rape and imprisonment!” Lord Langa shouted with a slammed fist on the table. “I’d be more than willing to show your sister the Queen what that’s like.”

“Are you threatening me?” Ona shouted as her northern bannermen reached for their weapons. The other northerners were shouting at the southerners who began shouting back, prompting the Emperor to stand up.

“That’s enough! I will not have us bickering like children, not while our countrymen have suffered such great indignities! Michael will respond to these accusations, and so help me God if I find what he has to say inadequate, I will lead all good men to Castellum myself and have his head on a spike!” the Emperor roared, and his southern bannermen applauded resolutely.

Rosa Sharon caught her breath. Prince Amenmar regarded this solemnly. Princess Jocasta said, “I presume that the Emperor is speaking...symbolically?”

Speaking more soberly, the Emperor caught himself and elaborated, “...we will achieve justice, sister-in-law, rest assured.”

Mr. Beldobas agreed, and added that “all we know for sure is that some goons committed hostile actions against us, and that Michael’s role in them is dubious at best. The crimes committed against Marsella are the most damning, but that alone is by no means a smoking gun. Indeed, Michael’s role in all of this is yet unclear. If we act now in haste, we sacrifice the moral high ground that the men of this council would claim.”

Princess Theodora had sat quietly throughout the entirety of the Lord Commander’s testimony and questioning. She wanted to leave the hall the entire time, but now felt compelled to speak. “What does it matter his role? He allowed them to beat me, keep me locked in a small, cold room for days...weeks,” she said, trying to fight back any tears. “I was starving, thirsty and I just wanted to go home.”

“Letting someone who allows that to happen is just as guilty,” Princess Diana added in support of her sister.

“Because,” said Jocasta impatiently, “If this organization finds that Michael is guilty on such evidence as this, it is possible that your country will be at war. Without being able to negotiate peacefully, it is going to result in open warfare, which means thousands of people will die, property will be destroyed, livelihoods lost, disease and hunger are likely to follow. So people need to follow steps to figure out how to deal with it. What we need to do is investigate and find out how to reduce the necessity of armed conflict. I know you went through a great deal, but nevertheless this is how things have to be done. And if it is not done in this way, it will be a disaster. And this is why our ambassador asked for a recess,” she said coldly to Sara. “Would it be possible to have one now?”

“...I agree that now is the best time for a recess,” Malibar said firmly in support of his daughter-in-law. “Naturally emotions are running high and many of us are in need of a break.” the northerners were in agreement, as were Beldobas and some of the other MPs present.

“Very well,” Sara said with a strong whack of her gavel against the wood of the table. “We are no recessed. You are free to go, Lord Commander. Thank you for your testimony.” the Imperial guardsmen ushered him down from the dais and out the room, as other guards had to stand ready to keep angry lords from reaching him who would do him harm of able to.

As Lord Commander Mavrozomes was being escorted out of the chamber by guards, he began to shout. “Your Majesty,” he began in Latin before switching to Greek just before being finally whisked from the room. “Beware of those in this room that claim to be your friends.”

It was during all of this, that the Emperor made his way down to Michael and Jocasta, and addressed them. “What more does Michael have to do against my country, my people and my family before you would consider my desire to wage war against him justified?”

“We should talk about this in private,” said Jocasta firmly, getting up and taking Michael’s hand. “My dear cousin.”

“So be it.” the Emperor went back to his sisters and cousin to escort them away, all the while thinking about what Mavrozomes told him about false friends…

[New Edom]

Ravenna

Regardless of any meetings between senior commanders, the 4th Marine Infantry were on the move, rolling down ramps from the landing hovercrafts and moving to their assembly areas. Major Othniel briefed the officers of the 1st Battalion and explained to them that they would be leading the way to Castellum. The idea would be to advance on Castellum, to protect the Imperial Capital and free the native troops to fight their opponents.

APCs growled their way to their designated areas around the port, other machines following, with their Damoclean soldiers eager within. The soldiers--barely more than boys and girls--were in some cases worried--they were vastly out numbered by the entire nation around them--but also delighted at the opportunity to prove themselves. Most of them spoke Pythonian Greek, strongly accented Latin and a fragment of Baran. As a squad was almost ritualistically pulling cammo netting around their M20 Hamsher (a big, six wheeled armoured personnel carrier topped by a 25mm autocannon nicknamed "Hamster" by the troops) a journalist and military historian, Dr. Kaniel, remarked to Captain Lucas, "They are some of the finest troops in Damoclea are they not? All volunteers, and so efficient, remarkable."

"They're all scum," said Captain Lucas bitterly. "I know for a fact some of them were raping and torturing Lyscanians two years ago. They have no morals at all. They only took the waters of the spirit because they wer afraid of us. Fear and ruthless discipline is all that keeps them in line."

"I see...but then you expect them to face death for you, Captain?" asked a bemused Dr. Kaniel.

"Yes," said Captain Lucas.

"Out of duty?" said Dr. kaniel.

"Of course," said Captain Lucas with a smile.

"What a Baran gentleman you are" teased Dr. Kaniel. "Well I shall look forward to this campaign."

"And what of you, doctor, would you not be happier back home with your students and books?" said Captain Lucas affectionately. For he had become fond of the older man with his salt and pper beard and large friendly eyes like a spaniel's, his curiousity and interest. He wa almlost like a regimental mascot.

"I could not be happier!" protested Kaniel. "And it is hardly my first campaign!"

"Excuse me," Captain Lucas said, putting a hand at his arm. They had reached an area of a semi-circle of vehicles--signals vehicles with aerials, staff carriers--and a map table had been set up in the midst of them with Major Othniel conducting a briefing that was about to start. A steward was pasing out cups of mint tea. At this stage it was still chitchat. "Briefing is about to start."

"I shall excuse myself and write up my report." Kaniel smiled at him. He waved a hand in the air dramatically. "The regiment landed without opposition, welcomed by our Latin allies!"

"I can imagine reading it already, Doctor," said Lucas. He walked up and was welcoemd by his brother and sister officers around the table, accepted a cup of mint tea with honey. The Major explained their role efficiently.

"Our aim so far still is to avoid direct casualties inflicted on the other side,' Major Othniel had explained earlier. Now he said: "We should be able to reach the capital in 14 hours. An advance unit of F Company and I company will move towards our refueling zone once our allies give the green light on that. Then 1st Battalion shoudl reach it in about 6 hours and refuel and hold the area until 2nd Battalion is advancing parallel. We will take over security for the artillery and engineers and keep moving. A detached relay of Terriers (vertical take off and landing planes0 and helicopters with drones from the fleet will provide our air cover and try to anticipate any blocks on the road. Now remember, any report of that and you provide cover for engineers that will advance and remove physical blockages. You are to treat any presence of Latin troops with great care. Unless fired upon, no one below the rank of company commander is to order an attack; keep our little brothers and sisters under careful fire control understood? But at the same time, let's nto put it past the circumstances to find enemy troops where they should not be." heads nodded at this--you never knew.

"They'll do it or get bayonets up their asses,' growled Lucas. There was a general laugh.

"Alright, let's go over signals and our Latin protocols one more time." Othniel said.

Not far off, the chaplains were preparing to bless the regiment. Normally they would just do this on the ships, but it had been decided for political reasons that the native allies needed to see them undergoing rites that wer very similar to their own--both descended from the old Imperial Church, both with similar liturgies, both showing similar faith.

42 LT-10 Phorusrhacos Light Tanks, 42 "Sorcha" Infantry Fighting Vehicles, 120 M20 "Hamsher" APCs, 20 x 6 LY219 Armoured Recovery vehicles, 5 x LY219 Command Vehicles, 24 x LY7/366 Lammasu self propelled artillery pieces, 6 x ASTROS II Multiple Rocket Launch Systems, 5 x LY6 Werewolf Assault Gun/Tank Destroyers, 5 x RH-77 Cannondale stealth attack helicopters, 6 x RH-90 Incursor heavy attack helicopters
12 x TH-300 Lakota utility helicopters, 3 x 2 1/2 ton trucks, 300 x Pseudonja Utility Vehicles, 60 x HEMTT trucks bearing supplies including tankers would be on the move soon.

What Admiral Amalek needed from Strategos Marcus Iccius were the following things: that they should have reufling possibiliteis if they neede them, guarantees of areas where the troops could bivouac, guarantees for a green light for their avance to Castellum, and his agreement that that area should be secured by New Edomite troops to protect the allied command center and state so that it freed the Strategos to focus on one thing: fighting the rebels.