The Silver-eyed Empress
Remember, remember, the fifth of December
The silver-eyed treason and plot
I know of no reason
Why the silver-eyed treason
Should ever be forgot
-Popular Bretonese poem
Synopsis
It is three years after Phantom Miria and her comrades overthrew the Organization and mere weeks after the final events of "Claymore: New Era", where Miria triumphed over Rabona's intra-island rival, the Kingdom of Lautrec. The blissfully ignorant isolation of the island of Toulouse and Rabona is about to end. The Global War threatens to spill onto the island, and now Rabona and Phantom Miria are being asked to take sides. The world is on the precipice of a vastly different era, one almost unrecognizable from the time of the Organization. In this dark time the many survivors of Pieta live on; Miria, Helen, Tabitha, Yuma, and Claire still live, although ever-greater dangers lurk. They have been joined during and since the Organization's overthrow by younger claymores like Renée, Raki, Miata, Clarice, Nina, Nadia, Virginia, Anastacia, Alexandra, Valencia and more. But how long can the island of Toulouse remain independent of events abroad? Events which Phantom Miria set in motion from the very moment she overthrew the Organization...
Foreword from the Author
This novel is the sequel to "Claymore: New Era", which I would recommend readers of this book check out if they have not already. Like the book it is a sequel to, "The Silver-eyed Empress" is based on the premise that Phantom Miria did not foolishly rush into the Organization all alone. To put it mildly, Yagi asked us to suspend our disbelief and brought her back to us. But what if Miria hadn't followed Yagi's path? What if she had rescued her friends in the west and then together with them destroyed the Organization? What would the Claymore universe look like afterwards if Miria had done the logical thing? The answer to that may be surprising, as is the era after the Organization's defeat. "Claymore: New Era" was my first answer to what might have been. This novel is an even more ambitious work in that it shows the consequences of her actions upon the mainland continent. The technology of this period is roughly equal to 1350 AD France for the island of Toulouse minus access to gunpowder. The mainland however is roughly two centuries ahead, with technologies roughly equal to 1550 AD Spain minus handguns. I appreciate reviews, and I hope you enjoy reading what is surely amongst the most unique Claymore fanfiction.
Chapter release schedule: Bi-weekly
Quick Glossary
Isle/island of Toulouse: the island upon which the Organization was established and later destroyed upon. It is a four-pointed island of modest size divided into five lands. The Northern Lands of Alphonse (controlled by Rabona), the Central Lands of Toulouse (controlled by Rabona/AKA the Dominion of Toulouse), the Western Lands of Lautrec (controlled by the Kingdom of Lautrec, Rabona's main rival), the Southern Lands of Mucha (controlled by dozens of warlords and city-states), and the Eastern Lands of Burgundy (home to former Organization headquarters and controlled by a plethora of would-be aristocrats).
Because this novel spans a far greater world than just the island of Toulouse, there are a far greater variety of races than those found in Toulouse alone. I have listed their equivalents in the modern world to avoid any confusion.
Races of the Claymore Universe:
Bantu=Sub-Saharan African
Bengali=South Asian
Khaledonian=European
Maghrebi= Arab/North African
Siyamese=East Asian
Hispano=Latino
Prologue
Excerpt from "World History after the Overthrow"
Chapter 10: The Boomerang Effect
By C. Havel
"Phantom Miria's life three years after the overthrow of the Organization seemed a complete triumph. Immediately following the Organization's overthrow, an island-wide hunt eliminated Yoma and awakened beings as threats to the population. Miria and four comrades spent two fruitless years protecting merchants for money before finally Miria, tired of the work, moved to Pieta. There she was about to embark on a career as a blacksmith when news changed everything.
A robber baron named King Charles had besieged Rabona with ten thousand men. Miria and thirty-four other claymores relieved the siege in a night. Miria then bluffed, some would say blackmailed, her way into command of Rabona's military. Several months after taking command, her ex-boyfriend, Cid Malaga, announced he was about to get engaged to another woman. Miria found this unacceptable and promptly seduced him back into her arms. In the meantime she continued to strengthen Rabona's military for a coming fight.
King Charles' Kingdom of Lautrec, which controlled the western part of the island of Toulouse, returned to besiege Rabona yet again. When the church refused to allow a counterattack, Miria ordered the army to sit by while the church's rule was overthrown by Rabona's Council of Lords. Freed from church doctrine, she annihilated half of the enemy army in a night using surprise assaults. King Charles, incensed, attacked her outnumbered forces with the remainder of his army. The showdown was in the narrow Kerouac Gorge.
Charles' forces had nearly succeeded in breaking her forces when he was assassinated by Miria's adopted daughter, Natalie. Natalie was promptly shot and nearly died, and Miria soon thereafter nearly completely awakened and wreaked bloody hell upon the enemy in revenge. Somehow she was pulled back from the brink while her daughter's life was saved. Unfortunately for historians, those involved have never talked about exactly what happened. The battle was a complete victory, Rabona emerging as the preeminent power on the isle of Toulouse.
Six months later, with Rabona's territories, wealth, and military having grown dramatically, Miria married her beau, now-Count Cid Malaga, in an extravagant 'wedding of the century'. It seemed to islanders that inevitably Rabona would beat the Kingdom of Lautrec and unify the island. History, it seemed, was coming to an inexorable end. Rabona's forces had but to try and the island would be unified once more under the holy city's rule.
History however has a way of delivering surprises that wreck the plans of even ascendant states. A mere week after Phantom Miria's wedding, events went horribly off-script. While Miria and Cid were on their honeymoon, an ambassador from the world's greatest alliance arrived. Duke von Rundstedt, emissary from the Grand Alliance, gave an ultimatum: join us and fight the Romanow Empire within three years or we will invade.
Miria was informed when she arrived back in Rabona that ultimately it was her fault the Grand Alliance had intervened in island affairs. Miria, angered, demanded to know why this accusation was made. The answer shocked Miria into silence. It was said her overthrow of the Organization had led to the exact opposite results desired by the Grand Alliance. Facing the Grand Alliance now was a brilliant leader who owed their very rise to power to Miria's overthrow of the Organization.
When Phantom Miria and her comrades helped destroy the Organization, they might have expected, with good reason, that the Dragonkin-led Grand Alliance would emerge victorious after the Organization's fall. After all, the one thing keeping the Alliance of Nations in the fight had been the Organization, its research department. With its fall, this superpower alliance looked doomed, or at the very least would be subjected to a harsh peace. The Grand Alliance however would soon discover that getting what it wanted could lead to nasty surprises.
One of the rebels against the Organization, a seventeen-year-old witch named Dietrich, was witness to some of these events in person. The unusually named Dietrich was a high-ranked warrior in the Organization's ranks. Disillusioned with their creation of the monstrous Abyss Feeders, she soon discovered the Organization's true nature via contact with Miria's team. Dietrich switched sides, her aid proving pivotal in overcoming or persuading the Organization's loyalist claymores.
Dietrich followed Phantom Miria's lead and played a part in wiping out Toulouse's Yoma and awakened being population after the Organization's overthrow. With this completed four months later, Dietrich was free to do as she wished. The young warrior, always something of an adventurer, decided to board a fishing boat. Dietrich wanted to sail the high seas on the most advanced ship in the isles, a fishermen's caravel. Unfortunately for Dietrich, a storm hit the vessel at sea. Lacking an able navigator, the ship was blown wildly off course. They would eventually sight land in the distance. Unfortunately for Dietrich, the Alliance of Nations' Navy did not take kindly to an unidentified ship intruding into their waters."
Dietrich was leaning over the caravel's forecastle, looking towards the semi-arid land beyond. The land was hilly, and through her bronze hand telescope she could just make out some mountains far in the distance. It was nearing evening, and as she shifted the telescope right she made out the silhouette of a city upon a large hill. There were a number of bright flashes around and in it, which confused her. It had architecture similar to that seen in the southern lands of Mucha on the isle of Toulouse. Red tile roofs and adobe walls were evident, as were a number of people scurrying around.
There was a port nearby, with numerous ships, many several times larger than the 110-foot caravel she was aboard. Dietrich looked back to see the ship's first mate turn the ship's wheel. The motley, ragged, wearied crew looked relieved, as was she. She was still wearing her gray Organization-era uniform, a claymore upon her back. A fine sea breeze was puffing the white sails, speeding the ship towards the port on the horizon.
"Two ships, starboard side," a sailor called out.
Dietrich looked up to see a sailor far above, atop the foremast in a crow's nest, pointing. She looked to the right and blanched; two massive, four-decked ships were closing fast out of the fog. The fog dissipated towards land, which left the caravel hard to miss. The ships were impressive, and even though they were some distance away, Dietrich estimated they were both several times the size of the caravel. Atop their four massive masts were blue flags decorated by numerous, six-pointed, gold stars.
Each ship had a number of holes on several decks, which Dietrich was surprised to see. They were regularly spaced, rectangular, and were suddenly lit up by flashes. A few seconds later the crow's nest on the caravel suffered a catastrophic impact. Dietrich jumped back as the man's headless body smashed down upon the deck before her.
Dietrich yelled at the shell-shocked crew, "We're under attack! Get us to full speed!"
The chase was utterly terrifying, with the enemy warships firing some weapon Dietrich had never seen before. Whatever it was the ships had plenty of them and they landed with a bang. The caravel's three sails didn't seem to be enough, because they were barely holding even with their pursuers. The enemy was forcing them towards the port and land.
They were nearing the port when Dietrich noticed a similar warship pull out of it.
She screamed out, "Turn us around!"
The caravel sluggishly changed course when the warship a quarter mile distant loosed a full broadside. The caravel, turning sluggishly away from the other warships, made an easy target. The caravel exploded into a storm of flying timbers and splinters. Dietrich staggered and looked down. A nasty wood splinter the width of her hand and the length of her forearm had gone right through her belly. She clutched at her belly and attempted to lean against the deck railing.
As she fell backwards off the deck, she realized the deck railing was no longer there. Dietrich felt a tremendous shock of cold blue-green water wrap around her. She tried her best to swim, but she was still wearing her large sword and armor. She saw the surface receding and knew she had no choice but to ditch them. She unsheathed the sword and reluctantly let it go. If felt like she was leaving her soul behind as it passed out of view into the murky depths below.
She felt her breath running short as she desperately took off her pauldrons. They fell off, and with their great weight gone, Dietrich kicked to the surface. She gasped for air upon breaking the surface, the waves nearly splashing over her head. The caravel was scarcely in sight and already aflame. The adrenaline served her well as she awkwardly attempted to swim. She could feel the searing sting of salt water entering her belly wound.
Dietrich didn't know how long she was in the water. All she knew was that she had to get to shore and as far from the port as possible. However the shore seemed to be getting no closer. She spotted some drifting wreckage from the caravel and spent her strength to reach it. She paddled with it for hours, but eventually she felt exhaustion take her.
She woke up and drowsily noticed her body had washed up on a beach. Dietrich used her remaining strength to pull the splinter out of her belly. With a horrible surge in pain, it came out. She used what Yoma energy she had left to heal the gaping wound. She was feeling delirious and light-headed as the wound closed. She glanced up upon hearing some footfall.
The sight convinced clear Dietrich that her exhaustion and deliriousness had gotten the best of her. A figure in the dark emerged. She could have sworn what she saw was a man with silver eyes. Moments later she was overcome with exhaustion and passed out. Her consciousness over the course of the night went back and forth between unconscious and conscious, although she never fully woke up. She felt her body moving in one of these rare moments of consciousness, and saw something bright streaking into the night sky. Delirious, she passed back into sleep.
Later she felt herself climbing. Her eyes drowsily opened to see a crew of men in rough clothes clustered around a large object. It had a massive central iron barrel, two large wooden wheels, and a large stand at one end. The barrel pointed in the opposite direction of the stand. The men lit some sort of fuse and held their hands over their ears. With a tremendous flash and bang, the object released a huge plume of smoke and rolled backwards a short way.
She lost consciousness moments later. She woke up, the morning light blinding her as it came through an open window. Dietrich looked around and noticed the room was walled in adobe. She was lying on a plain white bed covered by a single large white comforter. Dietrich tossed the covers off to find an unusual, colorful set of robes upon her. They were languid and seemed to be made in silk. The robes were primarily blue and white, with red mixed in to add interest.
Dietrich turned from checking out her new clothes and rushed towards the window. She scrambled up, leaned over the sill, and looked. Dietrich could see some tall ships in the nearby harbor. Alarmingly they carried the blue and gold-starred flags of the warships that had attacked her. She knew immediately that she had to get out of the room and somewhere safe. Try as she could, the four vertical bars in the otherwise open window would not break or bend. She knew they should have if they were steel, as she didn't lack for strength despite her modest size.
The room's lone door was locked as well and looked to be made from the unbreakable material. Dietrich tried desperately tried kicking a hole in the wall to escape. The wall proved rather more durable than her foot was counting on.
"Oww," Dietrich whimpered, clutching her left foot.
She heard someone unlocking the door as she massaged her foot. She looked frantically for a weapon, but finding none she decided to attempt to tackle her jailer. She snuck close to the far wall and waited. The lock clicked and the doorknob turned. A large man entered the room nonchalantly, not immediately spotting her to his left. She jumped upon his back and attempted to choke him.
He reacted with a blinding speed, grabbing her arms and flinging her over his head. The last thing Dietrich remembered was flying, her head and body upside-down, as she moved with great speed towards the far wall. The next she knew she woke up in the same room yet again. She was wearing her strange robes, and her head hurt something awful. She rubbed her head and glanced around. She paused in shock.
Sitting on a simple wooden stool in the otherwise bare room was a male claymore. Dietrich blinked and rubbed her eyes just to be sure she wasn't dreaming. It appeared she was not, as he did not disappear from her sight. The male claymore in question was utterly different from the former male warriors described to her by Phantom Miria. For one thing, he had a well-trimmed beard. His bleach-brown hair, the same color as Miria's, was cut short, with only a pair of split bangs.
He was much taller than her and solidly built; his build was somewhere between a bodybuilder and a medium-distance runner. His face was very masculine, with a wide jaw, a prominent straight nose, keen silver eyes, a short forehead, and this was complemented with a bulldog-like neck. The most distinguishing feature was a vertical scar that went from just above his eyebrow to the cheek below. Somehow his eye had not been hit by whatever had done the damage; probably a sword in Dietrich's judgment.
She noticed he was studying her cautiously, and Dietrich guiltily realized he had probably been the individual she had attempted to choke prior to getting knocked out.
Dietrich awkwardly started a conversation, "Bonjour."
The male claymore didn't seem to have heard her hushed voice. Admittedly he was kind of intimidating. He was easily twice her weight, a head taller, and was wearing considerably different armor than that worn by any Organization claymore. He had a steel cuirass over his torso and shoulders. He also wore a pair of steel gauntlets that covered his forearms.
The male warrior's well-muscled legs were protected near the waist by a hanging set of individual armor plates exactly like those worn by many Organization claymores. Underneath it all he wore a tight-fitting outfit of black-dyed cotton that fit snug over his body. It made for a spectacularly sleek, glistening look in combination with the gleaming steel armor.
"I said Bonjour," Dietrich spoke up. "Aren't you going to say anything?"
The male claymore's eyebrows arched. His face had a confused expression upon it.
Dietrich continued with a little more attitude, "Why am I being locked up? I demand to know why I am being treated—"
The muscular claymore spoke, but in a bizarre tongue Dietrich had never heard before, "Musisz być byłym claymorem organizacji."
Dietrich blinked, "Wait, did you just say claymore?"
The silver-eyed warrior replied in his tongue again, his words flying over Dietrich's head, "Czy rozumiesz coś poza tym słowem?"
Dietrich tried again in Toulousan, "Um, could you go back to talking about claymores?"
Dietrich wanted to grab the well-muscled male and shout at him to speak something she could understand when he replied, "To raczej nie ma szans powodzenia, prawda? Słuchaj, przepraszam za kłopot, ale musisz tu zostać."
"Look, even if I can't understand you, just let me out!" Dietrich ran towards the unlocked door, but the foreign warrior stepped into her path with frightening speed. Frustrated, Dietrich shouted up at the man's face, "I said, let me out!"
Her captor sighed, ""Nie jesteś więźniem. Po prostu nie mogę pozwolić ci odejść".
Dietrich snapped, "Let me out you bastard!"
Dietrich tried to go around the fighter but he grabbed her by the arm to say yet another bit in his language, which might as well have been gibberish, "Rozumiem twoje zdenerwowanie, ale gdyby moi zwierzchnicy dowiedzieli się o tobie, torturowaliby cię dla informacji i prawdopodobnie zabili".
Dietrich pounded her fists against his chest uselessly, pleading, "Why don't you just let me out? What did I do to you to deserve this?"
The silver-eyed slayer spared her a few more words, "Chronię cię w ten sposób. Mój podwładny przyjdzie później z jedzeniem i jakimiś ubraniami".
The male warrior turned for the door. Dietrich rushed around to her knees to plead.
"No, please, I swear I'm sorry for attacking you earlier," Dietrich cried. "Just please, don't leave me in here! I'll do anything, anything for you, you have my word!"
She grabbed his right leg and held on when he tried to move. The warrior for his part sighed again, pulled her off, opened the door, and with a small grin, dropped a book at her feet. He closed the door just as she rushed over. She tugged on the doorknob, but it was locked solidly in place.
Dietrich reacted by slumping against the door and for the first time in her life; she swore.
"Shit," Dietrich sighed.
1 ½ years later...
The language did not come easily. What little she learned in the first few months was just enough to discover that the male warrior was named Wenceslaus. He was the commander of a squad of silver-eyed slayers. Every day Wenceslaus and his second-in-command, a petite female warrior named Alevtina, would stop by to speak with her. In the beginning almost everything was incomprehensible. Wenceslaus however proved a charitable and kind jailer, giving her countless books to read, nice meals, a variety of clothes.
Alevtina, who seemed a petite relative of the late Deneve, turned into her language tutor. Alevtina taught her the alphabet and soon Dietrich was being given simplistic children's books to start out on. The language was called Comnenian, and was very difficult to learn. Besides suffering from a deficit of vowels, it was far different in tone than the smooth Toulousan she spoke. Dietrich threw herself into learning the language, as she had nothing better to do.
Eventually Dietrich had graduated from children's books to books for teens, and then demanded books on history and the war on the continent. Through these she learned that the Organization's late backer was a group of empires, kingdoms, khanates, sultanates, emirates and duchies. They called their faction the 'Alliance of Nations'. It had formed over one hundred and ten years prior to the present day. In opposition was the Dragonkin-led Grand Alliance. The draconic tribe's attacks had nearly knocked the Alliance of Nations out of the Global War in its early years.
Somehow they recovered; she guessed it was because they had discovered how to create awakened beings. The war was far too great in scale to learn about it all. She had skimmed until recent history. The first claymores were not mentioned until twenty years prior, and unlike in Toulouse, there were both females and some males. This confused her endlessly; hadn't the Organization said males were too susceptible to awakening? Wenceslaus however showed no signs of pre-awakening stress she had seen in Organization claymores.
More interestingly Wenceslaus was mentioned on several occasions within the history books. He appeared some twenty years prior, alongside the first of the mainland claymores, in a couple of incidents involving rebellions. It was right after the Battle of Danzig Bay, when the Alliance of Nations' own creations had disastrously backfired upon them. It seemed he was the result of a change in war strategy. Wenceslaus was both charitable and intimidating. His yoki, even suppressed, was on par or greater than that of the ex-Organization No. 1, Alicia.
From her charitable captors she soon learned that the mainland warriors were far different from their formerly solitary Organization comrades. Besides having male warriors, the claymores in the alliance operated almost entirely in squads. She had asked why there were male warriors, but this line of questioning only seemed to confuse Wenceslaus and Alevtina. Obviously some advance must have been made to allow male slayers to be trained without inordinate risk of them awakening.
There did not appear to be a taboo against slayers killing humans, which alarmed her. They even carried out a far wider variety of missions than claymores. She pieced together that they were responsible for hunting down errant awakened beings. Besides this they also carried out assassination missions against internal and external enemies, they spied, they guarded VIPs, and on several occasions carried out reconnaissance. Their most dangerous responsibility was acting as hunters of Dragonkin when awakened beings were unavailable. She was thus little surprised to learn that most didn't live more than a few years in the field.
There were also the flimsy things Alevtina brought in called newspapers. These would to prove the most interesting things of all. They helped her linguistic skills immensely and the news they contained was eye-opening for a sheltered islander.
Dietrich was reading a week-old newspaper from the local city, Seville, atop her plain white bed. She was dressed in a black silk dress trimmed in white. She glanced up from a story about a Grand Alliance offensive being beaten back at Rivoli. The commander was a warrior named—
The prison room's door unlocked with a loud click. Dietrich rushed to get her room in order. It was now stuffed full of books and newspapers in Comnenian, which she was getting fairly good at speaking. A pair of white blinds and a small red carpet even gave the cold stone-floored room a homey feeling. She quickly stuffed a number of books on her bed back into their proper places on the room's numerous bookshelves.
The door opened to reveal a female warrior a little taller than Dietrich. Her blond bangs covered her forehead, while the rest of her hair was quite short. Her face reminded Dietrich of a more effeminate Deneve. Alevtina wore armor like that worn by Wenceslaus, only it was smaller and the cuirass was shaped to suit female curves. Upon her back was a massive claymore sword in its holder.
"Dzień dobry, Dietrich," Alevtina greeted her.
Dietrich returned the good morning, "Dzień dobry, Alevtina."
"Great news," Alevtina crowed in Comnenian, dropping a clutch of papers before Dietrich. "She smashed them good around Trentino."
"Who?"
Alevtina rolled her eyes, "Who else? General Romanowa of course!"
"But how?"
"I'm sure we'd all like to know," Alevtina grinned. "Word is they've just promoted her to Lieutenant General."
Katarzyna Romanowa was the one silver-eyed slayer Dietrich had heard the most about besides Wenceslaus. Romanowa had an incredible story. Two years prior, back when the Organization had fallen, Katarzyna had been a mere squad commander. Starting from the rank of captain, Katarzyna rose through the ranks rapidly thanks to what could only be described as a great talent for command. Half the reason why the Alliance of Nations was still in the war was Katarzyna. The other half was something that eluded Dietrich.
"That's great," Dietrich agreed. "So what happens next?"
Even though she was technically a traitor, Dietrich found herself identifying with her captors. She had even learned that they weren't technically imprisoning her; they were hiding her from allied agents who would surely put her to death for her part in the Organization's overthrow. Dietrich was thankful she had lucked out and met Wenceslaus first after nearly drowning in the ocean. For some reason she felt warm whenever she thought about him.
Alevtina sat down on a stool as Dietrich's thoughts snapped back to reality.
"I have no idea, but I'm glad she's kicking the Grand Alliance's ass on the Northern Front. The word in the newspaper is that she's gone on the offensive and is retaking territory from the Grand Alliance," Alevtina informed.
Dietrich's eyes widened, "She's going on the offensive? Has the Grand Alliance been on the defensive in a century?"
"Not that I can recall," Alevtina nodded. "It's about time really. Plus she's doing all of it without the aid of monsters. The High Command kind of sickens me to tell you the truth. They send out these…these hybrid men with no training and have them awaken and die fighting Dragonkin. Then there are those awful Abyss Feeders, those—"
Dietrich's stomach churned, "There are Abyss Feeders here?"
"Yeah, hey, wait, how do you know about…oh, right," Alevtina remarked. "I completely forgot about you being an Organization warrior for a moment there. I'm just glad that ever since the Alliance found out how to partially awaken the warriors they haven't been using as many of those stupid 'super weapons'. They kept expecting for these things to turn around the war—"
Dietrich's jaw slackened, "Wait, how did they find out about that?"
Alevtina inclined her head, "Partial awakening? Near as I remember Wenceslaus saying, they discovered the process from an Organization claymore named Audrey and her handler, Rado. Don't tell him I told you that. It's supposed to be classified information."
"Sure," Dietrich said, her stomach clenching in shock. "Are you partially awakened Alevtina?"
Alevtina smirked, "Why wouldn't I be? Wenceslaus is as well. Almost the entire force of silver-eyed slayers is now partially awakened. That's nearly half the reason why the alliance is still in the war. It made us warriors far stronger, and in exchange for risking awakening the High Command even agreed to allow warriors to try their hands at being officers. That's why Katarzyna was even given the opportunity to command."
"Oh," was all Dietrich could manage in her heavily accented Comnenian.
Alevtina opened the newspaper, "You don't mind if I call you Dietricha do you?"
"Of course I do," Dietrich snapped.
"It's just that your name, Dietrich, that's a boy's name," Alevtina stated. "Don't you want a nice girl's name or at least feminize your name?"
"My dad wanted a boy, so I'm named Dietrich," she explained in a huff.
"Your dad was pretty weird," Wenceslaus' subordinate commented. "Anyways, listen to this about the Battle of Trentino. The enemy commander was complaining about our general. Quote, 'They've sent a madwoman who does nothing but attack left, right, and from the rear. Her ways of war are intolerable!'"
Dietrich smirked, "Why exactly are they intolerable?"
Alevtina turned the newspaper page and looked up, smiling, "She doesn't play 'the game'. All of the army commanders on both sides, prior to two years ago, were nobles. The only harsh things they did were unleash Dragonkin or awakened beings on each other. However, most of the nobles care more for surviving than winning. You'd get two armies fighting, they'd maneuver, one side would put the other in check, and the other would retire."
"Is that why the Global War has been going on for so long?"
Alevtina grabbed Dietrich's chess set, opened it, and grabbed two knights, one black and one white. "The Global War isn't like what you think. The Global War has spurts of great violence for short periods of time. However no countries could sustain all-out warfare for a century. The rest of the time there is low-level conflict while both sides recover. Right now the war is entering another period of great violence."
"But why now?"
"It's because Katarzyna isn't playing by the rules," Alevtina explained. "When her aristocratic opponents stop, she keeps going," Alevtina explained, holding up the black queen. "When they retire from the field of battle, she attacks them again. I like Katarzyna because she doesn't mess around. She doesn't care about just winning a battle or a city; she cares about annihilating the enemy's armies and their ability to wage war. Wenceslaus thinks she's too ambitious, but I think she's what we need."
4 months later…
Dietrich's first clue something was wrong was the hole smashed in her prison's wall. The cannonball entered and exited instantaneously. It also conveniently exited her room by taking out the doorknob and lock. Dietrich, wearing a spare black combat outfit of Alevtina's, gingerly walked into the hallway. She didn't have any armor on, or a sword. A soldier with an ornate helmet and wearing full plate-mail armor noticed her in the candle-lit hallway.
"Hey, you, get into your armor and grab your sword," he snapped at her. "Don't you know we're under attack?"
Dietrich was directed down dark hallways and finally to a storeroom. She found a cache of massive claymore swords and grabbed one. The officer left a subordinate to look after her. She put on a female-style steel cuirass, a pair of gauntlets, added an open-faced steel helmet, and set of tassets.
Fully outfitted, she rushed up to the officer and saluted.
He snapped, "Who's your squad commander?"
"Wenceslaus," Dietrich answered.
"You've got a strange accent," the man commented.
"I grew up with nomads," Dietrich lied.
"Alright, well, I trust you know how to find your squad. Get going," he ordered.
Dietrich could find Wenceslaus' yoki with ease. This was because although he was tamping down on it, his yoki strength was obviously very great. In fact, she had once estimated he might outstrip Alicia and Beth in raw Yoma energy strength. His yoki was not the only one though. There were nearly three dozen yoki signatures nearby, all of them of greatly varying strength.
She dodged past soldiers in the hallway, turned left at an intersection, and jumped through a doorway. She emerged in pleasant sunlight to find Wenceslaus with a full squad of comrades dozens of meters away. They were observing something on the edge of a fortified parapet. Not far away to the right was a battery of six cannons. The cannon crews were ready to fire.
There was some shouting in a new language Dietrich hadn't heard before, "Cubra sus orejas!"
The first cannon crew lit the fuse and covered their ears. With a tremendous bang, the cannon belched smoke and lurched backwards as it fired.
The others in turn fired in turn, one after another. The smoke was just clearing when Dietrich walked closer. The squad was armored in like manner to Wenceslaus. Dietrich noticed Alevtina looking over and then hiding her face with her hands. Alevtina murmured something to Wenceslaus, who merely glanced over, unsmiling. Dietrich stopped when the rest of the squad looked over. There was another male, considerably leaner and half a head taller than Dietrich.
It was the nine other female slayers besides Alevtina that caused Dietrich to freeze in place. Four of them had dark, black skin, two had lighter brown skin, and the remainder was pale-skinned like Dietrich. They had their blond hair in a variety of haircuts and builds, although their most feminine features were covered in armor. Dietrich had never seen claymores with skin different than hers. In fact she had never seen a single person with brown or black skin. They looked more than a little surprised to see her, as she was them.
A brown-skinned female slayer took one look at Dietrich and remarked, "Who's this Wenceslaus, your amante secreto?"
Wenceslaus looked over at the pretty girl, who had distinct arched eyebrows and was regarding Dietrich with what looked to be contempt.
Wenceslaus didn't even appear ruffled as he replied, "No, Aishwarya, she's with Special Operations, Section three."
A really impressed murmur and a lot of newly appraising looks went Dietrich's way.
"Alevtina, take the squad towards the main southern gate and have them act as a strategic reserve. I don't think the Grand Alliance has anywhere near enough troops to take the city, but I want us prepared to counterattack at any breakthroughs," Wenceslaus instructed.
The rest of the squad departed under Alevtina's watchful command while Wenceslaus remained giving Dietrich a very unnerving stare. For her part Dietrich looked away and noticed the battlefield beyond. They were near the edge of the citadel. Hundreds of meters below were a pair of tall walls. Beyond those were literally thousands of troops in a wide, flat field. Dietrich noticed hundreds of red flags rustling in the robust winds.
"You almost got yourself killed," Wenceslaus commented. "Luckily the squad never heard you speak."
"I'm sorry," Dietrich gasped. "I had a cannonball smash the door to my prison and I walked out. Some officer saw me and told me to get into combat gear, so here I am. Are we going to be okay? That looks like a big attack."
"They don't have the numbers to breach the walls," Wenceslaus remarked in his usual deep voice. "They've tried to besiege Seville fifteen times in the past twenty years, and this time will be no different. I want you to go back to your room and take those yoki suppressing pills."
Dietrich objected, "But I just got out!"
"It's to keep you alive," Wenceslaus stated as they walked out of earshot of the cannon crews.
With a tremendous series of bangs another volley was fired.
Dietrich pressed her inquiry as they walked up a set of stairs, "But what's this section three of Special Operations? Why were they all looking at me with those weird expressions?"
Wenceslaus didn't answer until they reached the ruined door to her room.
"Am I going to be safe here? That went right through—"
"You'll be fine, I took care of those enemy cannon twenty minutes ago," Wenceslaus stated. "They won't be putting cannon on that far hill anytime soon. Not after I hit them."
"But what's—"
Wenceslaus sighed, "Section three is composed entirely of silver-eyed assassins."
Dietrich bit her lip as Wenceslaus handed her yoki suppressants.
"Why are you doing this for me?"
Wenceslaus looked Dietrich in the eye, "If you had talked the whole squad would have known you were an ex-Organization warrior. They've already met your former comrade, Audrey. Your accent in Comnenian is little different than Audrey's. Someone would have told a handler, and they would be here by tomorrow morning. You would not be alive more than a few hours before they killed you."
"But that doesn't—"
Wenceslaus put his hands on her shoulders, "No one deserves the death they would give you. The alliance penalty for treason is being drawn and quartered. They tear your body apart with four teams of oxen while you're still alive."
Dietrich gulped.
She had to ask, "How do you know I'm a traitor?"
"Audrey was here on behalf of Marshal Romanowa yesterday," Wenceslaus stated. "I asked if she ever knew a Dietrich, and she told me quite a bit. However, that's not the important thing right now. What's important is that you take these pills and keep hidden. Assassins are known to disappear for weeks at a time, which is what you'll do."
"I suppose I owe you a lot of thanks," Dietrich sighed. "Wait, Marshal Romanowa? As in the Katarzyna Romanowa?"
"Katarzyna Romanowa was pulled off the Northern Front two months ago," Wenceslaus explained. "The High Command was not being cooperative, and she threatened to resign if they didn't stop their bickering over the new conquests. They promoted her to Marshal and sent her here to the southern front. As we speak her forces are cutting off and enveloping the forces besieging Seville. When she's done here she's supposed to have a big meeting in a month with High Command to decide strategy."
5 weeks later…
Dietrich marked off the date of December 10th on her calendar. She was about gulp down a yoki suppressant in her repaired room when Alevtina slammed open the door and grabbed her.
"Wait, what's going on Alevtina?"
"There's been a huge event in Visegrad," Alevtina stated, her voice deadly serious.
Alevtina looked unusually tense as they walked out the door. They navigated a countless number of fortress passageways. They emerged where Dietrich had seen Wenceslaus' squad some five weeks prior. Only this time there were gathered a full three dozen slayers, including Wenceslaus, and a number of military officers in armor. Just like claymores, all the silver-eyed slayers present had blond or bleached hair.
A white-mustached man in full armor, wearing a blue cape trimmed in gold was shouting, "…and I would rather open this fortress to the Grand Alliance than put our lot in with that usurper!"
A dark-skinned female slayer, not much taller than Dietrich, rebutted, "That's more traitorous than anything Marshal Romanowa did!"
Dietrich murmured to Alevtina in confusion and fear, "What's happened?"
"Marshal Romanowa has relieved the Alliance of Nations' High Command of power," Alevtina whispered. "Wenceslaus is trying to prevent her supporters from getting into a fight with supporters of the former High Command."
Wenceslaus was with his squad in between two other squads of slayers, some military officers on both sides, a chorus of yelling going between the two sides.
"That barbarian killed the entire High Command, even their children, and all of it was done with the treacherous help of the Silver Guard, Aminata," a pale-skinned male slayer shouted back.
"The only barbarians were the High Command," a brown-skinned human officer opposite shouted back. "Katarzyna didn't have any choice. If she wanted to get rid of the High Command permanently, she had to end their familial lines entirely! Besides, those bastards betrayed her while she was on the offensive on the Northern Front! Out of pure jealousy at her success they stripped her of the Silver Guard, supplies and—"
The pale-skinned male slayer rebutted, "Katarzyna was still making progress—"
"The High Command betrayed the war effort, Vladimir," Aminata fired back. "They couldn't handle compromising on dividing up Katarzyna's conquests and cost hundreds of thousands of lives with their obstructionism. We owe Katarzyna our allegiance for her selfless dedication to actually winning the war!"
"The only thing Katarzyna wants is absolute power, Aminata, and I will be dead before I see that monster take command of this city," the short-haired Vladimir countered.
"If you want to throw open the city to the Grand Alliance, I'll see to that," Aminata spat.
Aminata and Vladimir's squads unsheathed their swords and readied to fight.
Dietrich's stomach clenched; she could hardly believe what she was seeing. Standing alongside both Vladimir and Aminata were military officers. The city of Seville's military leadership was literally ready to start killing each other over what Dietrich realized must have been an extraordinary coup. Aminata seemed to be the chief supporter of Katarzyna, while Vladimir was dead-set against her. The human officers were surprisingly letting the warriors take the lead.
Wenceslaus and his squad rushed into the gap, swords drawn, trying to prevent bloodshed. Dietrich followed Alevtina's lead and kept Vladimir and Aminata from each other.
"We can't afford to go killing each other," Wenceslaus stated, holding back Aminata.
"This isn't like your lectures on kindness, Wenceslaus," Vladimir shot back with Dietrich and Alevtina holding him back.
"Choose a damn side Wenceslaus," Aminata urged. "If you back Katarzyna, this can all be over in an instant."
The shouting, shoving and deadly threats continued, but Wenceslaus prevented them from killing each other. It ended when a single male slayer of considerable height wearing black and gold robes walked out of the fortress. He emerged out of the same door through which Dietrich had come. Upon his back was a single curved blade unlike any claymore Dietrich had ever seen. He was of pale skin and had a strong jaw, and Dietrich found him almost as attractive as Wenceslaus.
"Commander Wenceslaus," the newcomer shouted. "Commander Wenceslaus!"
The fray settled down and everyone looked over, quiet. Wenceslaus was still holding Aminata by the arm when he looked over.
Wenceslaus sighed, "Yes?"
"I am Major Andrei Tuluzy," the slayer stated. "Her Supreme Imperial Majesty, Empress Katarzyna, has asked me to personally request that you not oppose her. She will grant full amnesty to everyone in Seville if you allow her forces to enter the city."
Vladimir muttered darkly, "I told you! Now she's declared herself an empress!"
Andrei ignored this, "In about four hours, some two hundred of our silver-eyed comrades and forty thousand men will arrive outside Seville's walls. Their commanding officer would like to know whether he should approach this city as a friend or an enemy. For those of you who wish to still throw your lot in with the empress' opponents, I have news you should carefully consider," Andrei remarked to Vladimir. "Victoria McKenzie attempted to stop the coup with four hundred slayers. Their opposition was smashed in less than ten minutes by the Silver Guard."
Wenceslaus' breath was stilled; in fact, there was a general level of shock in everyone present. Dietrich wasn't sure who Victoria McKenzie was, but she must have been important.
Vladimir stammered, "No, that can't be right, no one can kill someone as strong as—"
Andrei dropped a shark-tooth necklace at Vladimir's feet, "That is the necklace of Victoria."
Vladimir blanched and shut up.
Andrei addressed Wenceslaus, "if you cooperate, you will be made the Imperial Governor of Seville and granted the rank of Duke. If not, well, you can guess the consequences. I would appreciate an answer, Commander. The empress is willing to be quite lenient if you cooperate."
Wenceslaus looked over everyone present with sad eyes. Dietrich knew the math was horrific. An army of thirty-seven slayers and fifteen thousand men riven by infighting could not hope to resist an army nearly three times its size. On the other hand accepting a brutal overthrow was not in Wenceslaus' idealistic nature. He was probably weighing the costs of the choices on offer. Dietrich for her part knew which one she was rooting for, even if it were out of a selfish desire to survive.
"If those are the terms," Wenceslaus sighed, "then I accept your offer."
Excerpt from "World History after the Overthrow"
Chapter 10: The Boomerang Effect
By C. Havel
"The one unit crucial to the overthrow of allied High Command was the Silver Guard. They were originally a group of fifty veteran slayers commanded by Major General Romanowa on the Northern Front. Eventually, with High Command becoming gridlocked over dividing up Katarzyna's conquests, she found herself starved of support and resupply. Despite this Katarzyna kept going until they reassigned the Silver Guard to be their main bodyguards. Romanowa was incensed at this betrayal and threatened to resign. Deciding they could not risk making Katarzyna into their enemy and not realizing they already had, the High Command promoted her to Marshal. After Romanowa decisively won the Battle of the Eight Castles, the war entered a period of stalemate.
They invited their new Marshal to a meeting, counting on the presence of the now 100-strong Silver Guard to protect them. It was a foolishly misguided trust, as the Silver Guard regarded Katarzyna like she was their mother. Worse still, the Silver Guard's commanding officer was especially close to Romanowa. Her name was Bastia Comnenus. Bastia was a Comnenian princess, but was hybridized as a show of devotion by her parents to the alliance. Bastia hated her parents for their politically motivated "donation", and came to regard the charming Romanowa as family. In retribution for their betrayal, Bastia agreed to plan the coup with Katarzyna.
Marshal Romanowa arrived at the meeting behaving like normal, exchanging pleasantries with various royals and even politely discussing physics with Bastia's brother. Katarzyna waited until the entire high command was in the meeting room and then signaled the Silver Guards to lock the doors and bar use of all exits. Within ten minutes the entire High Command was dead. Following the death of the High Command, Romanowa began her systematic quest to unify the squabbling alliance into a single empire. Declaring herself empress a week later, Katarzyna was soon confronted with revolts and foreign invasion by the Grand Alliance.
It took six months of brilliant leadership, brutal fighting, ruthless tactics, and massive use of force before the nations of the former Alliance of Nations succumbed totally to her rule. The keys to this success were Katarzyna's leadership, the services of the Silver Guard, and warriors in key positions of command tolerating her orders. Although the new Romanow Empire had lost some territories, it had fought the Grand Alliance to a standstill in a mere six months. It was an accomplishment that no one but a military genius and political mastermind could have done.
By this time a still-fragile empire comprising a third of the world's territory and population stood at Katarzyna's personal command. With the last revolt crushed the week before and a lull in the war with the Grand Alliance, the new empress turned to improving the governance of her fledgling empire in preparation for annihilating the Grand Alliance. It was at this crucial juncture that the silver-eyed Governor Wenceslaus sent a messenger to his Empress. The content of the message would change world history, as would Wenceslaus' choice of messenger, an ex-Organization warrior, the recently promoted Baroness Dietrich Tuluzy.
Wenceslaus by this time trusted Dietrich absolutely, so he sent her with an offer on his behalf to the empress. Wenceslaus' choice of messenger, a foreigner with an unmistakable accent, was no doubt chosen to provoke a reaction in the Empress. Wenceslaus might have been a mere governor, but his messenger was in no danger of not being given a personal audience by the empress.
Katarzyna was very aware, as we now know, that although she was an elite warrior and unmatched military commander, there were six slayers in the empire significantly better at personal combat than she was. As empress, she needed their support, even though most of them were not good military commanders. The Silver Guard could probably defeat one of them, perhaps as many as two, but no more. Wenceslaus was one of only two males in this group of unrivalled fighters, and like the others, the empress kept close tabs on him.
Although Dietrich did not know it, she was in fact part of his offer to the empress. It was an offer that Phantom Miria would surely wish was never made, for it would bring both superpowers into Rabona's affairs. When Baroness Dietrich Tuluzy arrived in Visegrad, the interim capitol of the Romanow Empire, she discovered Empress Katarzyna was governing from the Comnenian Royal Palace. Baroness Tuluzy quickly made her way to its back gates, no doubt deeply anxious about what she was about to do..."
Dietrich had been waiting at the back gate of the palace for some time now, answering a series of increasingly annoying questions from a quartet of exquisitely dressed Imperial Guardsmen. They were clad in full plate armor, each of them wielding a halberd, their armor featuring gold-gilded patterns of wings, eagles, and swords. The largest of the four was their officer, a hulking captain, who was brushing his graying brown mustache thoughtfully as he listened to her.
"I understand your objections, really I do," Dietrich sympathized. "However Governor Wenceslaus said this is a personal message for Her Supreme Imperial Majesty only."
"We'll see about that. When a runner returns, we'll know whether to let you in or string you up," the captain hinted darkly.
Dietrich sat down on a stone bench, sighing, as the captain and his men returned to showily patrolling, their embroidered black and gold capes fluttering in the light breeze. The gate, which was barred to her, was huge, made of wrought iron, and was topped by an impressive, double-headed imperial eagle ornament gilded in gold. The gate was at the end of a cul-de-sac, with three-story brick walls on all sides. The place should have had a nice feel, but the massive amount of yoki Dietrich could feel inside the palace was deeply unsettling. Thankfully, since Katarzyna's overthrow of the High Command, she didn't have to worry about being executed for treason. This fact allowed her to relax, and moments later she fell asleep as she waited.
The clipped-clop of horses' hooves upon the cobblestone street awakened Dietrich from her nap. A small column of Imperial Guardsmen on horseback trotted into view as they marched towards the gate. She was attempting to surreptitiously get a better view of the commander, who was at the back of his column, identified only by a plume of black feathers on his helm. The commander saluted the captain, glancing to his left at her in genuine curiosity.
"Who's the guest, captain?"
"This silver-eyed slayer here is Baroness Dietrich Tuluzy, lesser nobility only Colonel," the captain said, implying her rank was insufficient to be of interest.
The Colonel got off his black horse, handed his reigns to a subordinate, and approached her, bowing as he took off his helmet to reveal a handsome face and dark brown hair. The man even had a charming smile upon his face.
"I must apologize for my admiration of your beauty," the Colonel said, bowing elegantly as the captain scowled behind him, "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Colonel Jaroslaw Tusk, commander of the Imperial Guard's 4th Heavy Cavalry Regiment. May I ask what such a charming silver-eyed lady is doing outside the empress' residence?"
"I am here to deliver a personal message from Governor Wenceslaus to Her Supreme Imperial Majesty," Dietrich explained, blushing badly at Tusk's efforts at charming her.
"Ah, so the good Duke Wenceslaus has sent you," Colonel Tusk exclaimed. "It must be an honor to serve such a noble and civilized man. How long ago did you send the runner?"
"It was...well, around half an hour ago," the captain said, sounding annoyed.
"You never sent a runner, did you captain?" Colonel Tusk asked.
The captain's face contorted, "Ah well, that is to say-"
"Were I your superior, captain, such pettiness would see you relieved of your position," Tusk bellowed before turning to her.
The captain merely scowled but remained silent, as Tusk outranked him.
Colonel Tusk grabbed Dietrich's right arm, kissing it several times, "My sincerest apologies Baroness, would you like me to send along one of my men on your behalf?"
She blushed at his attentions, particularly as she suspected he'd been looking down the plunging neckline of her white dress as he'd kissed her. Dietrich wished she was not so weak to male flattery.
"I would be most grateful to you," she said, trying hard to not be swooned.
Colonel Tusk immediately waved on one of his subordinates, and the gate was quickly opened by a subtly scowling captain. The cavalryman rode off onto a sandy path topped by vine-wrapped porticos and out of sight.
"I hope we meet again," Colonel Tusk said, blowing her a kiss as the others galloped off.
Tusk stood up, vaulted himself back onto his saddle, and waved goodbye as he rode past.
Dietrich found herself smiling and waving as Tusk disappeared into the gardens beyond the gate in spite of her normal reserved ways. She'd been waiting scarcely half a minute after Colonel Tusk left when a shadow jumped over her from inside the palace's walls. The Imperial Guardsmen jolted awake, unsheathing their swords with great speed.
"Hold it," the Imperial Guard captain shouted, the nearest Imperial Guardsmen halting his sword's swing in mid-air.
Standing before Dietrich was a taller male slayer in beautiful silver-colored armor. He wore a red crest of feathers atop his ornately decorated helmet; armored tassets protected his upper legs, a cuirass protecting his back, front and shoulders, while greaves and gauntlets protected his extremities. Unlike the straight-edged claymore strapped to the back of her dress, the male slayer carried a long, curved, single-edged Katana in his left hand.
Dietrich was left breathless in surprise, but then remembered to say 'good day' in the empire's tongue, "Dzień dobry".
The silver-eyed slayer did not return her greeting, as four of his comrades had jumped over the walls and landed around them. These slayers were all female, each having varying blond hair and silver eyes, and armored almost identically to the male slayer.
"Dzień dobry," the male slayer belatedly greeted her. "The empress has been expecting you Baroness Tuluzy."
"I'm expected?"
"Of course," the male slayer scoffed. "The empress scheduled your personal audience some three weeks ago. I would have preferred that you had arrived on-time yesterday, as it is extremely bad manners to make an empress of a third of the world wait," he finished, sounding rather insulted.
Dietrich realized that he was not lying about the personal audience, its scheduled time, or his feelings regarding her being "late" to something she'd never known about.
"I'm sorry, but I don't think Wenceslaus told anyone I was coming," Dietrich explained.
There was some good-natured chuckling now from the previously silent female slayers, who Dietrich noticed all wore exquisite black leather under their armor, just like the male slayer.
Dietrich asked, "Did I say something wrong?"
"James," a white-skinned slayer to Dietrich's left interrupted, "I think she's telling the truth. It seems Empress Katarzyna was attempting to predict the arrival of her guests again."
Dietrich realized as the female slayer talked that there could be only one way the empress knew of her secret mission on Wenceslaus' behalf: one of his aides was a spy for the empress.
"That's Lieutenant Commander Havel to you, Corporal," James shot back. "As a reward for your etiquette, you get the honors of inquiring when the empress will be available."
"But the empress is in the midst of a very-"
"I didn't say it'd be pleasant to ask Corporal," Havel coldly cut her off.
"Yes sir," the corporal glumly acknowledged, and then silently ran into the palace grounds.
Havel turned to Dietrich, "I am Lieutenant Commander James Havel, second-in-command of the Silver Guard. If you would leave your sword with the captain, we can begin."
"Begin? But I thought that corporal-"
"We'll be escorting you to the gardens, where you'll wait to meet the empress. Whether or not you will see Her Supreme Imperial Majesty however is entirely up to no one but the empress," Havel explained, "in the meantime, give your sword to Captain Kostunica."
Dietrich delicately handed her claymore to the human captain, as it was useless to not go along with Havel's orders, Dietrich reasoned. She'd noticed originally that the color of Havel's curved sword and his armor were the same and thought nothing of it. It was a stupid mistake not to notice, as the Silver Guards' armor was famed for being made from the same metal used in forging claymores: duratium.
As each member of the Silver Guard was an elite, their armor and skills rendered them invulnerable to all but the most powerful of enemies. The Silver Guard, as Dietrich remembered Wenceslaus telling her, was composed of one hundred members. They had started out as the Katarzyna Romanowa's loyal shock troops, and had steadily improved over the years into the world's most elite bodyguard force. The only things that could even contemplate tangling with the Silver Guard and surviving were the most elite of the silver-eyed slayers and Dragonkin.
The Silver Guard was also famed for their meritocratic diversity, and Dietrich was not disappointed. Of the five that had appeared before her, Havel and the corporal were white-skinned, two of the others were brown-skinned, and the last was black-skinned.
The female Silver Guards around Dietrich quickly fell into a square formation with Havel and escorted her through the gate.
Havel turned to her as soon as the Imperial Guardsmen were out of earshot, "I'm curious, but where did you pick up that accent of yours?"
"I was born on an island far the mainland," Dietrich curtly explained, "why?"
"If you were attempting to gain the empress' attention, you will succeed talking like that," Havel noted.
Dietrich felt her heart sink. She'd hoped the empress would focus exclusively on the message and not her. In fact, just thinking about possibly meeting the empress was giving her stomach fits. Ordinarily she was as calm and cool as a cat, but on the mainland she was way out of her comfort zone and she was also out of her league in trying to meet an empress.
Havel turned back to leading her onwards into the palace gardens, the escort of four Silver Guards now silent. Dietrich noticed that despite the overwhelming yoki emanating nearby, she couldn't feel any yoki from the Silver Guards she'd met. It was just another thing she'd have to report to Wenceslaus once she returned with the empress' reply to his message.
They walked along vine-shaded garden paths for ten minutes before Havel turned right at an opening in some hedges. She climbed up a small marble staircase to find a path lined by hundreds of halberd-wielding Imperial Guardsmen and hedges. They remained perfectly motionless as she passed them by, each of great stature. Finally the sandy path neared a clearing with a black and gold tent, the Imperial Guardsmen now replaced by more intimidating Silver Guards.
Upon reaching the tent's clearing Dietrich noticed the clearing was full of flowers, several large trees, a pair of beautiful fountains, and alive with birds' songs. A dozen colorful parrots flew out of nearby palm trees as she walked into the center of the clearing. Dietrich abruptly noticed the clearing had at least fifty Silver Guards in it, all of them at attention as they lined the clearing's edges. If there were only one hundred Silver Guards, then surely having half of them nearby was a sign the empress was coming Dietrich reasoned. There was even a nice wooden throne before the tent, but it was empty. The only people using the tent were a few nobles, their large yokis making it hard for Dietrich to move.
The corporal from earlier ran to Havel's side, gasping, "Sir, the empress is coming."
"Good, then we'll go through the etiquette guide for the Baroness and-"
"She's coming now, not in fifteen minutes!"
Havel whipped around to where the corporal was pointing while Dietrich turned to look as well. Dietrich noticed a brown-skinned female slayer of a statuesque build before her, her shoulder plates' rimmed in gold. Havel seemed to be deferential to the newcomer, so Dietrich rushed to judgment, falling to her knees and prostrating herself.
"Get up you idiot," Havel shouted, "That's the Silver Guard's Commander, Tymoshenko."
"Then why did the-"
"The individual dressed in black is the empress, not me," Tymoshenko explained.
Dietrich followed Tymoshenko's gaze down the path to see a small entourage of individuals being smartly saluted by Imperial Guardsmen. Four Silver Guards surrounded an individual wearing a black dress and an enormous, three-pointed hat. Two of the Silver Guards marched ahead and two behind of the empress. Thankfully, Dietrich thought, the empress was still several hundred meters away, so she had time to mentally rehearse the lines she'd been practicing for weeks.
"You've got to be kidding me," Havel commented, "the empress immediately left a war meeting to meet a Baroness?"
"Don't question the empress' decision," Tymoshenko hissed.
Commander Tymoshenko grabbed Dietrich as the empress approached closer and hustled her to one side of the path. Havel took up a position opposite and stood rigid, weapon sheathed, mere meters from the throne. Dietrich followed Havel's lead, standing rigid until Tymoshenko noticed. Dietrich was then pushed into a prostrate bow before the empress arrived.
Dietrich's heart pounded as she heard footfall nearby, and she could just glimpse the gleaming steel-clad feet of the first pair of Silver Guards. A beautiful black dress embroidered in gold came next, the empress moving silently past. The other pair of Silver Guards' feet walked past, and then Tymoshenko allowed her to stand up.
Dietrich glanced over to find the ornate wooden throne occupied, nobles fanning out to either side respectfully. Dietrich noticed the empress's black dress covered the empress neck to feet, its sleeves falling lazily from her arms. Her torso was covered in beautiful patterns of gold embroidery, which gave the empress a stunning, ornate appearance. The empress folded her arms, quietly conferring with the nobles next to her, utterly ignoring her. Dietrich used the moment to make a few more observations about the empress who ruled a third of the world.
The empress' black satin-gloved hands held a claymore, its hilt shaped like a pair of a golden eagle wings. Upon the sovereign's head was an immense triagonal black satin hat, which peaked far above. Two more points jutted out to either side, which gave the hat a triangular shape. Its numerous jewels of many colors and large size gave the empress a grand, exaggerated appearance, while attached to the hat's bottom were thick white veils. These covered the autocrat's face entirely, making it impossible to discern her expression. The hat conveyed a sense of absolute wealth due to its enormous blue sapphire, many red rubies arranged around it in a flower pattern, and decorative gold stitching. Other jewels, too numerous to describe adequately, decorated the rest of the hat.
Tymoshenko and Havel turned to face Empress Romanowa, both saluting as the empress turned her head as Havel began reading aloud, "Cesarzowa..."
It was a term Dietrich had only recently realized meant "Empress" in the Comnenian tongue. "Blessed mother of the imperial nation and supreme commander of the Romanow Empire," Havel declared, to which the empress uttered an audible sigh.
"The Silver Guard would like to express its wish that you choose a spouse and provide the empire with an heir to ensure the line of-"
"I've heard enough James," Empress Romanowa said in a beautiful, commanding female voice, "I will choose a spouse at a time of my choosing, and it will certainly not be you, so please stop this foolish charm offensive. I'd never hear the end of the insinuations if I ended up marrying one of my bodyguards," Empress Romanowa continued, her voice full of supreme feminine authority.
"Yes Cesarzowa," Havel gulped, looking crestfallen. Dietrich couldn't help but frown in surprise; the empress' character was far different than the capricious and vindictive murderer she'd expected. But then again Wenceslaus had warned her not to pre-judge the empress...
"Now then," Empress Romanowa said, "This must be our guest, correct?"
Tymoshenko prodded Dietrich to stand, and then pushed her directly before the empress, where she bowed from the waist mere meters from the empress.
"Cesarzowa," Commander Tymoshenko said, "this individual is Baroness Dietrich Tuluzy, and she is here on behalf of-"
"Wenceslaus," the empress interjected, at which point Dietrich glanced up, "Don't look so surprised Baroness. My spy network is not so incompetent that they'd miss your little mission."
Dietrich remained silent, just like Wenceslaus had told her to.
"I'd like to have the message you're carrying," Empress Romanowa demanded.
Dietrich pulled out Wenceslaus' message, which Tymoshenko grabbed and then presented to the empress. Empress Romanowa opened the paper and read through the opaque veil.
"I would like to ask Your Supreme Imperial Majesty to be lenient in the sentencing of Alexander Comnenus, who has committed no crime," the Empress read aloud. "If you could find it in your heart to not execute him, I would be most grateful."
"He thinks he can dictate to us," Havel quietly hissed.
"So Baroness," the empress stated, "what do you have to say about Wenceslaus' terms?"
A question coming from an authoritarian ruler was a question that demanded an answer.
"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean Cesarzowa," Dietrich answered candidly.
The empress put down the note and stopped reading.
"You seem rather more loyal than I expected; most messengers are curious about a top-secret message," the empress praised.
"Thank you Cesarzowa," Dietrich replied.
Dietrich noticed she could feel no yoki coming from the empress, but many of great strength were more than capable of hiding their yoki.
"It's also rare for a messenger to have a foreign accent," the empress pointed out. Dietrich chillingly realized her accent hadn't gone unnoticed, just as Havel had warned.
Empress Romanowa stood up, the empress' tall frame towering over Dietrich as the empress examined her. Katarzyna held her chin up with a hand, and walked around as Dietrich's heart raced.
"Where are you originally from Baroness?"
The empress asked with an insatiable curiosity in her voice.
"The island of Toulouse, Cesarzowa," Dietrich answered, trying her best not to flinch as the empress' silver eyes became just visible beneath the veils, both of them staring straight into her own.
"Ah, so at long last, my dear Wenceslaus has found me another Organization exile," the empress said approvingly. "Perhaps Audrey and you can have a nice chat later. I have a question for you first Baroness: what was the Organization's true purpose?"
Dietrich's stomach clenched, "The rebels claimed the Organization existed solely to create the perfect, controllable awakened being."
"Who partnered with Audrey when she was an Organization soldier?"
Dietrich realized the empress was testing her to see if in fact she was actually an exiled Organization claymore.
"The No. 5 Rachel partnered with Audrey, Cesarzowa."
"It seems you are indeed the genuine article, but if Wenceslaus thinks this is enough to sway me, he thought wrong," the empress declared to Dietrich's consternation.
"I don't follow what you mean Cesarzowa," Dietrich admitted, flustered.
The empress sniffed, "Ah, so you aren't aware of what Wenceslaus is after, are you?"
"I..."
"Well, never you mind that, the one hundred rebel warriors are still going to die for their treason, whether Wenceslaus says no or not. I never even considered Alexander Comnenus' execution, however you may tell your master I do NOT need his permission to rule," the empress stated coldly.
"But you do need Wenceslaus' support, or else you would never have received me Cesarzowa," Dietrich boldly pointed out.
It would have been possible to hear a pin drop in the shocked hush that followed her bold and more-than-a-little-stupid outburst. The normally stoic Silver Guards nearest were all looking over, some wearing shocked faces, others looking very angry, and a few giving Dietrich appraising smiles. They all held back from saying anything, as the empress's eyes were narrowed underneath the veil.
"Well," Empress Romanowa began, "You certainly are a bold one, although you are lucky to live in my era as ruler. In the days of the old high command, speaking to a queen in such a recklessly bold and thoughtlessly frank manner would have gotten you killed."
"I don't think we ought to kill her Cesarzowa," a silver-eyed noblewoman broke in.
"I was not saying we would Rima," Empress Romanowa explained, sounding annoyed with the taller of the two nobles standing behind the throne.
This silver-eyed noblewoman had mixed features, with a Maghrebi's bronzed skin and arched eyebrows, but long Siyamese-like blond hair, narrower Siyamese eyes, and a nose belonging to neither group. The shorter silver-eyed noblewoman had the features of a white-skinned Khaledonian, and a nose that would have looked familiar on the island of Toulouse.
"Given your manners, Kasia would be the best member of the family for you," the empress nodded approvingly, "and Kasia is in need of an assistant right now. As for sending you back to Wenceslaus to tell him all this, I think not. If Wenceslaus wants to demand so much, he can come see me himself if he wants his answer."
Dietrich wanted to blurt out, protest, anything but just stand there like a fool left out to dry, but she couldn't do anything. Kasia was last-in-line to the throne of all the Imperial Princesses, and thus unlikely to help sway the empress' opinion towards Wenceslaus' goals. Kasia was so unknown an Imperial Princess that even Wenceslaus didn't even know what it was Kasia did for the empress.
"But I suppose I'm not giving Wenceslaus' messenger a fair chance to show her worth, so I have one small task for you Baroness," the empress stated, bemused.
"Yes, what is it Cesarzowa?"
"Your comrade Audrey was not able to accurately show me where the island of Tuluzy is, and I'm very much interested in retrieving what remains of the Organization's research from the island," Empress Romanowa said while taking a globe of the world off a nearby table.
"Cesarzowa, in all likelihood the Grand Alliance has already-"
"You would be surprised at how careless the Grand Alliance can be," the empress stated. "Even if it's only remnants, there is still some value in gaining knowledge of the Organization's research. If the Grand Alliance hinders our efforts, we'll have more than enough means to end their meddling."
"Of course Cesarzowa."
Havel handed Dietrich a pen while Tymoshenko gave Dietrich the globe.
"If you genuinely want to help your dear master as much as your face tells me you do, then give me the island of Tuluzy's location," the empress instructed.
Dietrich ignored the mispronunciation of "Toulouse" and began to draw the island as quickly as she dared...