Chapter 12 is up.

This chapter is a bit short, but don't worry. It's just that I want the entire battle of Tarbes to be on the same chapter, without cuts.

I hope the story isn't advancing too fast or too slow. If it is, tell me. I'll do my best to correct it.

Anyways, on with the story! :D

Author correction: I'll post on Sunday afternoon, instead of Saturday. I have to deal with some familiar issues.

-:-

Newcastle, the morning after the fall of the fortress.

The new day dawned over the still burning ruins of Newcastle. Thousands of men lay littering the ground, butchered, left to rot in the sun. Crows and vultures flew in circles over the battlefield, diving in from time to time to feast on the flesh of the dead.

The republican army stood to attention, flags and banners flying in the morning breeze, as a wagon made its way to the front. General Magnus and Marshal Neville got off their horses, and approached the vehicle as it halted in front of them. The curtain that closed it was removed, and a tall blond man in fine clothes came out. The man wrinkled his nose, as the foul stench of the battleground assaulted his nostrils.

General Magnus saluted.

'Dictator Cromwell.' he said. 'I hope your journey was pleasant.'

'Yes, it was, General. This part of the country is beautiful this time of the year.' the Dictator replied, walking towards the command tent. 'I was hoping to be present when the fortress fell, but I see you already took care of it.'

'I did indeed, Mr. Dictator.' Magnus replied.

The two men walked in silence for some seconds, as Neville followed them.

'Where is Marshal Anderson, General? I was told he was here with you.' Cromwell asked.

'He fell.' Magnus answered.

'I am sorry to hear that. How did he die?' Cromwell inquired.

'Someone... something ripped him to pieces as he led the final assault into the keep.' the General said, feeling a shiver crawl up his spine.

'I've known you for thirteen years, General Magnus, and I've never seen you afraid. Tell me. What troubles you?' Cromwell asked, noticing the other man's discomfort.

'The Red Angel.' Neville said, behind them.

Cromwell turned.

'The what?'

'The Red Angel is a monster. An iron-clad warrior, at least seven feet tall, who can best a hundred men by himself. He's killed more than a thousand of our men in the last two days, before disappearing without a trace.' Neville said.

'I'm sure our brave troops successfully eliminated him. They haven't recovered the body yet, I presume. I would really like to have a look at that "Red Angel" of yours.' Cromwell said, scratching his chin.

'No trace has been found of a body, Mr. Dictator.' Magnus said. 'Whatever it was, I fear we'll be seeing it again.'

'Anyways, are all royalists dead?' Cromwell asked, changing the subject.

'Most of them, Dictator.' Neville said.

'What do you mean, most of them?' the man inquired.

'We spotted two vessels leaving the port, soon after Newcastle fell. One was the personal warship of Prince Wales, the Eagle, and the other one is a Tristainian transport frigate, the Marie Galante.' Magnus said.

'Wait a moment. Was Prince Wales captured, as I instructed?' Cromwell asked, suspicion creeping over him.

'No, Mr. Dictator. We found no trace of him.' Neville answered. 'It seems he made his escape through a tunnel located behind the throne in the main hall. Oh, and we also found the cadaver of a man. A noble, by the looks of him. The body bears the coat of arms of the House of Tristain, and his heart has been ripped out of his chest and forced into his mouth.'

'Damn.' Cromwell cursed.

'The war is now over anyways, Mr. Dictator. Isn't it about time you return your emergency powers to the Chamber of Commons?' General Magnus asked.

'There will be a change of plans, General. Looks like the war isn't over just yet. It seems like the Princess of Tristain is somehow involved with Wales's escape and the death of thousands of men here at Newcastle.' Cromwell said, stopping abruptly. 'I think it's time to show the world what happens when they decide to interfere with the struggle of a country to become free.

-:-

Royal Palace of Tristain, two days after the fall of Newcastle.

Louise knelt before Princess Henrietta. She winced in pain, since her wounds weren't completely healed. The elbow where the albionese knight had kicked her on the walls of Newcastle was now wrapped in a cast, and a nasty bruise had formed over her left eye, where Wardes had struck her.

'Your Highness, I have completed your mission. The letters are safely in the hands of Cardinal Mazarin.' she said.

'I thank you, Louise Françoise, my dear friend...' the Princess answered, but her gaze was elsewhere, fixed on someone a few meters behind. There, between Guiche and Ghathrax, stood Prince Wales. Only three other people were present apart from them. A terribly scarred boy who stood behind Wales, Cardinal Mazarin, to the right of the Princess, and Agnes, to the left.

Henrietta could not believe her eyes. He was there. Not only had her beloved Prince survived, but he was there. To see Wales so close and yet so far, to not be able to run to him, hug him, kiss him, and tell him that she didn't want to be separated from him ever again, was pure agony.

Everything seemed so unreal. Nothing mattered, except their eyes, fixed on each other, drinking from the sight of the other.

'Your Highness, did you hear me?' Agnes said. The woman looked concerned.

'I'm sorry, Agnes. What were you saying?' Henrietta said, forcing herself to look away from Wales.

'This messenger brings an urgent dispatch from the Marquis of Tarbes, your Higness.' Cardinal Mazarin said, pointing to a man who had just entered the throne room.

The man was panting heavily, and dropped to his knees before the Princess.

'Your Higness! The Marquis of Tarbes is sends word of an Albionese invasion!'

'An Albionese invasion?' Henrietta exclaimed. 'What is the word? Speak quickly, man!'

'The Albionese have launched an attack on the village of Tarbes with 4,000 men. They will reach the Forest of Mésnil in two days. A massive ship leads them.' the messenger explained.

'It's the Lexington.' Wales said.

'What's the Lexington?' Louise asked.

Jack stepped forward.

'The Lexington is the biggest ship in the Albionese Armada. It was originally the Royal Sovereign, the flagship of His Majesty's Fleet, before the rebels captured it and renamed it after the first victory they snatched from the royal armies.' he said. 'It has 108 cannons, and it's almost invincible.'

'And what about the Marquis's army? What is he doing to protect my people?' Henrietta asked.

'Your Highness... the Marquis is dead. His army's numbers were too few. He only had four hundred knights under his command. They were swept from the battlefield, at Baltair Hill. Only I could escape to bring you these news. All the other messengers have been killed.'

Everyone was shocked. An entire feudal army, anihilated.

'Cardinal Mazarin.' Henrietta said.

'Yes, your Highness?' the Cardinal asked.

'Assemble the army. We will march for Tarbes tomorrow at first light.'

'As you command.'

'But, Your Highness, we have no men to defend the village! They will be overrun before we can reach them!' Agnes intervened.

Henrietta sat heavily on her throne.

'It's true. There are no more armies between the Albionese and Tarbes. But what else can we do? Mobilizing an army takes time!'

'Wrong. We do have men.' Louise then said.

Everyone turned to her.

'Louise?' Henrietta asked, confused.

'We do have troops close to Tarbes.' Louise repeated.

'What do you mean?' the Princess inquired.

'Ghathrax... I mean, my familiar, has an... army... of men loyal to him, in the Forest of Mésnil. We can use them to delay the Albionese until the Royal Hosts arrive.' Louise said, suddenly self-conscious and embarrased.

'Louise... what do you mean, your familiar has an army? Have you been recruiting troops behind my back? I thought... I thought we were friends! I thought you would never betray me!' Henrietta exclaimed.

'I- It's not like that! I wasn't preparing a rebellion, Your Highness, I swear to the Founder! May Brimir strike me dead if I'm lying!' Louise shouted, fear creeping its way up her throat.

Ghathrax intervened.

'She's telling the truth, little princess. If I had any intention of using my men to attack you, I would have already done it.'

Henrietta closed her eyes, trying to think. After a few seconds, she opened them again.

'Very well. Your familiar and his... men... will fight off the invaders until I arrive with the army. We'll talk about this later, Louise.' she said, regaining composure.

-:-

Forest of Mésnil, 80 miles from Tarbes. Ten minutes after the meeting in the throne room.

Siesta almost choked herself with a cup of water when Ghathrax appeared in front of her inside the main tent in the cultist camp.

'M-my Lord! What-?'

'This is a communication portal, opened by one of the little princess's mages. I'm not really here.' Ghathrax interrupted her.

'Y-yes, my Lord. What... what are y-you doing here, i-if you don't m-mind the question?' the former maid stuttered, trying to wipe the water off of her red dress.

'I have a task for you, girl.' the astartes said.

'A-anything, my Lord.'

'You will gather every man able to bear arms in the camp, and march to Tarbes. Then, you will kill all the Albionese invaders you find. Understood? I will be there tomorrow.' Ghathrax said.

'B-but my Lord, I'm not a commander.' Siesta objected.

'You are now.' the astartes said, before he disappeared.

Siesta stood inside the tent for a few minutes, thinking. The cult had grown considerably in the last month. It now counted more than 10,000 adepts, roughly an 8% of the Tristainian population, at least half of them healthy men capable of bearing arms. But how in hell was Siesta now supposed to organize them to march into battle?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a young man in red armor who entered the tent.

'My lady, we heard voices. Are you well? Were you having a vision?' he asked, a concerned look on his face.

'No, thank you, Marcel. I'm fine.' the girl said, smiling warmly. She had always liked Marcel. He was the only man in the camp who talked to her about other things than disemboweling people. 'Call the other Crimson Knights. War is coming.' she continued, in her best "prophet of the Gods" voice.

'Yes, my lady. Shall I muster the army?' he asked.

'Yes, please. Oh, and send a messenger to Tarbes. Tell them to evacuate the village immediately.' Siesta said.

'As you command, my lady.'

Three hours later, the three commanders of the cult were gathered around Siesta. They were enormous, clad in blood-red and crimson armor.

'Well, Prophet. What is it you wanted to talk to us about?' commander Beaumont said.

'I received word from the Red Angel, three hours ago.' Siesta said, magnificently interpreting her role as the mystical leader of the cult. 'He commands us to take the army to Tarbes. Apparently, there is an Albionese force nearby. Our task is simple. Find them, and kill them all.'

'Albionese? I thought they were killing each other back in their own island!' another commander said.

'Looks like they aren't anymore.' the third one intervened. 'I will take the Crimson Knights to Curstag Hill. When they attack Tarbes, I'm guessing they will try to cross the Serein to cut off any refugees trying to escape, so their rear will be momentarily exposed as they cross the river. I will seize that opportunity.'

'Thank you, commander Allard.' Siesta said. 'Any more ideas?'

'Marcel and me will take half of the men with Allard, to support their attack.' Beaumont then said.

'Good.' Siesta approved. 'Then, it falls to you and your men to hold the riverbank, commander Lapointe.'

'Yes, my Prophet.' the man said, bowing his head.

'Very well, gentlemen.' Siesta said, getting up. She placed a closed fist over her heart. 'Death or Glory'

The three commanders repeated the gesture, as they too got up.

'Death or Glory.'

-:-

I hope you enjoyed, guys. As I said, I'll post again on Sunday instead of Saturday.

Also, there will be sexual content on the next chapter, so I'm going to change the rating from T to M.

As always, fav and follow if you like the story. Also, reviews do a lot to boost my confidence on the story. I'm very pleased that all reviews up until now are being positive. Thank you all.

See ya!