The late sun stretched across the blue sky, warming the newly sewn crop fields in my lands. A cool late spring breeze pushed large, cotton clouds eastward from the mountains in the west to the hills that border on the Imperium. Tomas Lanky herded his sheep across the valley where children play among the tall grass.

In town at the market square, merchants began to pack their wares. They laughed and chuckled as they reminisced about last week’s Beltain celebration. Having sold much of his imported spices, Barrel-faced Harry treated his friends to a pint of this spring’s ale at the Mare & Thistle, before taking the road back home.

Inside, Delfia, my third daughter and captain of the Mounted Rangers, and one of the land’s elders sat in the company of old friends over a meal. Lady Glendora from her foothill kingdom in the northwest, and Judgment, Chancellor of the Royal Court and mentor to the Peace Keepers of the Imperium, had both stopped for a visit while traveling the realm. In the warmth of the tavern, their conversation’s pleasantry changed quickly, as they turned to pressing matters.

Apparently, Lord Gemini, once faithful earl to the Imperium, had disgraced himself by trying to extort others. Lady Jerrica had expelled him from the Imperium for conduct unbecoming of a member of the court.

“He had crossed the line of degrading behavior and had threatened to make public Sir Kahn’s private life,” Judgment said.

“To what end?” the elder asked.

“Power,” he shrugged.

“How does he answer?”

“With half-truths. And now, he has fled south across the Great Sea, where his quality is unknown, and seeks to build a new alliance, with himself as its leader.”

Glendora leaned forward, “Like a fallen angel, he has sent messengers across the realm, stating that he, in fact, is the Royal Imperium. It seems he seeks to confuse young knights and confound Lady Jerrica.”

The elder at the table paused in thought. “Visiting merchants chatter a great deal about harassment on the trade routes—more than the usual highwayman,” he said, and looked to Delfia. “And you have witnessed strange movement during your patrols at night.”

She nodded, unsure what to make of it. For the past two weeks, just beyond my land’s frontier, unknown shadows made their way across the northern plain, and her scouts had seen dark ships along the Great Sea to the south, but their intentions were unclear.

They let the evening drift away, and Delfia parted company for a short ride to meet her rangers and camp by the woods along the northern plain. As usual, she slept apart from her company, and her rangers respected her guarded privacy. She found herself thinking about the news of the night before falling into a dreamless, black sleep.

—

Delfia awoke with a start and unease. She was under stars without a moon for light, and her campfire had smoked after burning out. She cocked her ear to the quiet while gripping the hilt of the sword that lay beside her. Her stomach tightened, as she heard a quick inhale. Her practiced hand brought her sword up before her face felt the slightest rush of air. Metal clanged hard as she deflected a blow. She dodged another swing that landed in the soft dirt beside her head, and she rolled to stand then parried a third stroke.

Delfia stepped back to give herself room, and her eyes made out the shape of a helmetless, lightly armored attacker. She heard a rustle coming behind her, and she quickly feinted forward to put the warrior on defense. He retorted, and his thrust missed her as she tucked and tumbled on her side, under another swinging blade from behind. She came up close to smash the guard of her sword upward and into the second attacker’s face. Bone and cartilage cracked and split open as she connected with his nose, and he let out a yelp. She shouldered him down to the ground and parried another blow from the first attacker, swinging large and wide to back him away.

Now she heard swords clashing among her rangers’ camp. They were light sleepers, too, but she cursed herself for being caught off guard. They were still deep within their borders, and the land was at peace; she had not expected a night ambush.

The man on the ground lay in pain, moaning and holding his bloodied nose. Delfia stood ready as the first attacker twirled his sword to flex his wrist. He was half a head taller than she, and his breathing was heavy and thick.

He cracked his neck with satisfaction. “Sprightly one, aren’t you,” he spat out, his grin apparent even in the dark. “I’m going to enjoy this. Yes, I’m going to enjoy beating you and killing you.”

“It has been my experience,” Delfia said, “that men who boast early, usually end up lacking where it counts.” Then she smiled and grabbed her crotch.

The man flickered and snarled at the insult. “I’ll show you mine, you little—” and he swung his sword down hard. Perhaps a little too hard, for his balance shifted a little too forward. Delfia anticipated this. She wheeled left easily to avoid him and swept her blade across his unguarded body, slicing cleanly through his leather jerkin and drawing blood. He backed quickly, but she followed before he could recover and thrust again into his chest. She twisted her blade and withdrew. He came forward with her, only to fall to his knees. He dropped his sword and held his wound. Then he fell to his side, letting go of his last inhale.

“Captain!” One of Delfia’s rangers, Beyle, called out.

“Here!” she responded, her breath catching up with her. She felt her heart beating fast against her chest. She crouched down to the dead man and searched him but found nothing. He wore no ring or anything to identify him. She smeared her sword against his chest to wipe it clean.

Beyle found her and gave his report as two more rangers gathered. “They surprised us, but we recovered and killed most of them. Two ran into the woods, and I sent four to track. We have three wounded and one dead. Duane.”

Delfia spat. She gave Duane the night’s watch. She felt her anger grow cold then glared at the man on the ground, still crumpled in pain. She nodded toward him, and the rangers picked him up and held his arms at his side. His clothing was bloodied from his nose, but he bore no sign of his kingdom.

“Who are you?” she asked. He moaned, and the rangers shook him.

“To whom do you swear allegiance?” She asked again. He only whimpered in response.
“I’ll ask once more.” She said and took his nose firmly between two knuckles. The man howled in agony and his voice filled the camp.

“No one!” he shrieked, “We were paid, just paid to attack!”

“Mercenaries.” Beyle said in disbelief.

“Who paid?” she squeezed harder.

“Lord Gemini!”

Delfia let go of the man’s nose. He crumpled as the rangers took him back to their camp. Her eyes were wide, her mind racing. Then she turned to Beyle and ordered, “Ready the horses. Send two teams of two to alert the castles in the north and west, and the wounded to the nearest one–no one rides alone. Take the prisoner and one more with yourself and ride to the council elders to tell them what happened here. The rest are to ride south with me.”

“At once!” Beyle acknowledged, then paused, “Captain, what exactly has happened?”

The sky in the east had begun to lighten; the sun would rise within the hour. Delfia could see astonishment and a trace of fear on his face. She looked at him darkly and said, “It would appear, we are at war.”

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