Sitting waist deep in a relatively fast flowing river, Vexa sat opposite scowling, both of us a painful red from the scouring that we had undertaken to remove every last vestiges of filth accumulated in the Valley of Defilement.
"Did I do something wrong in the last hour or so?" I tried standing. A rock slipping from under my feet sent me crashing back down, painfully scuffing my knee. Vexa stayed put, not coming to my aid.
"Yes," She used her arm to hide her breasts. Her brow furrowed and the murderous look I had received oh so may times appeared.
"What did I do?"
The redhead gritted her teeth, huffing and puffing. "I do not know yet" She seethed, "But you have done something to piss me off, otherwise I would not be like this!" Vexa thrashed at the water, sending a white spray directly at me, fully exposing herself again. Looking at my wife's naked body, taking in her natural beauty, only seemed to further her further her anger. "Do not look at me," Vexa hugged herself tightly, turning her body away. It wasn't long before she left the river entirely, stumbling over loose rocks to reach the river bank.
I fought the current to join her. Vexa was stood silently, towel in hand, staring into nothing. Thank goodness no-one else was around, the sight of the pair of us naked in a small wooded clearing would be fun to explain.
Slipping my arms around her waist I gave her a good hug, planting a plethora of kisses on her back. "You keep this up and I'm going to get worried. If you tell me what the matter is I can help you, like you do me." I waited for what seemed like an eternity for her response.
She took my hands, moving them lower from where I had them held. The warmth of down there was a contrast to the rest of her body which was absolutely freezing.
"Do you still find me attractive, Jonathon?" The question came out of the blue and caught me off guard. I thought it was a daft thing to ask.
"Vexa?" I was ever so slightly offended that she would even ask such a thing.
"Answer the damned question, Jonathon!" The redhead snapped.
"Of course I do," I soften my tone. I was genuinely concerned now; on the walk back to the camp Vexa was so bubbly and full of energy. "What's brought this on, eh?" I pulled my hands away and walked in front. There were tears in her eyes, something had put doubt in her mind and I wanted to know what.
Vexa sniffed and wiped her nose on the towel. "I know you said there was no other woman, but...Jonathon, are you lying to me?" She snatched my wrist.
Uh oh, this was my fault. Damn it! Some teasing to get her worked up and a little jealous, this was not supposed to have ended up like this.
"Vexa, I am not nor have I ever been lying to you," My reassurances fell on deaf ears. Vexa wasn't listening.
My wrist was let go of and the redhead took several paces backwards, dropping the towel and standing with her arms hanging limply by her side.
"What do you see before you? Do you not find me attractive any more?"
You, dear reader, know I did and what I saw before me was my wife being silly. That wasn't what she wanted to hear however and so I told her. Now keep in mind, Vexa hadn't aged a day since the conversion, but nor was she a young woman before hand.
A crown of scarlet adorned her head, grown out and reaching the small of her back. Beautiful, big green eyes, so kind and full of understanding. A beauty spot just below her left eye and a nose like mine, ever so slightly crooked. Lips full and red, dimples forming when she smiled.
Moving down I saw breasts that sagged. A tummy that was not so flat, and like her thighs and bottom, was no longer toned as it once was.
Her skin milk-white did little to mask the multitude of scars and stretch marks that criss-crossed all over her body, each telling their own story.
And that was only her outward appearance; there was so much more that made Vexa Vexa. Loyal to a fault, patience of a saint, a damn side more clever than she ever gave herself credit for. She was a devoted mother and a damn good one, as Siegnette would attest. And I'm not going to repeat what I've already said about her being a wife.
"Vexa," I closed the gap and held onto her, "You are the most beautiful, most wonderful, most incredible woman in my life. You're my wife, my partner in all things, my best friend. I made a joke to get a reaction out of you and I'm sorry for casting a shadow of doubt in your mind, I never meant to hurt you like that, and I would never try to hurt you by being unfaithful." Normally I'd attempt to lighten the mood by saying that either she or Vixen would murder the hell out of me, it didn't seem right this time.
I held her tightly, skin to skin, the pair of us shivering now. She was stooped over with her face buried in the crook of my neck. "Do you think I would willingly throw away thirteen years of your love, eh? You're a silly girl, but you're my silly girl and couldn't give you up if I tried."
Vexa sniffed loudly, then sunk her teeth into my neck. Pain flare over the effected area.
"You are a bastard and I hate your guts. I knew it was your fault, and I still hate that I love you." Now there was the Vexa I knew, she hadn't needed to bite me though.
"You are damn well going to make this up to me tonight. I expect you to scrounge up a decent meal, not the usual rations, and I want a massage, full body, with all the extras," My wife pouted, face still pressed against my neck. How could I refuse?
I cupped the back of her head gently, "Sure thing, my love. Anything else"
"Before us, did you sleep with blondie?"
"No. We got very close though, had a bit of fun with each other. But no, I didn't sleep with Lucatiel."
"So I have been your only sexual partner for the entire time you have stuck on this world?" Vexa raised her head, looking at me with watery eyes.
I swallowed sharply and shook my head. It wouldn't be good I felt to lie to Vexa now.
"Who, Jonathon?" Her bottom lip wobbled, I don't think she really wanted to know the answer.
"Nashandra," I whispered.
"Nashandra!" Vexa roared, finger nails digging deeply into my back and shoulder.
"Yes," I yelled back, "It was to get Lucatiel the time she needed to rest and recover, that bitch didn't want an undead hanging around the castle for longer than necessary. I had to degrade myself for Luca's sake. From the second day until we left it was wine and dine with her, then retire to her bed chamber. I'll spare you the details of what Nashandra made me do to her."
It had all been for Lucatiel and I don't ever think otherwise. It's not like I enjoyed doing it for Nashandra and only served to fuel my hatred for the woman.
Vexa repeated the name, venom dripping from her lips. She let go, her nails having pressed so hard that I was bleeding. She scooped up her clothing and hastily put them on, looking back over her shoulder as she walked away. "Do not follow me. I do not want to see your face."
I called after her, she was being daft.
She left me in that clearing, the mid-morning breeze having already dried me off. I hurried with my clothing, glad to have a clean uniform on. I couldn't say the same for the lice, nothing I did seemed to get rid of them.
I traipsed back into camp looking this way and that for Vexa, finding only the black and purple of Erebayan-uniformed men. The hammer clang of one of the camp's smiths rang clearly overhead, as did the voice Corporal berating one of the men.
My hair left untied caught the wind. It must have looked unsightly, so much so a Sergeant stopped me. Because I was in a bit of a fettle I decked the cunt without thinking. I needed a smoke. Instead I was restrained and dragged to the officer's main tent. Marius wasn't impressed.
"Firstly, yourself and the Lady von Bayer disappear, only to return filthy and stinking. Secondly, you have assaulted a Sergeant of the tenth-company Fusiliers. I'd thought we'd gotten past all that. It's a flogging charge, Johan," von Strepp paced back and forth, "Anyone else and it wou-"
"Where's His Majesty?" Vixen's large frame filled the entire door.
"Remember your place, Lord Kellantine. Wait outside!" von Strepp reprimanded the brute and continued from where he had been interrupted. "Anyone else and it would be twelve-hundred lashes, can't flog you though. How would that look?"
That excuse only works so many times and it was starting to wear thin. I have been given the lash since then and it's not something that I would recommend, I mean I couldn't feel anything after the 100th, unconscious by 800 and by 1200 I had no back left of which to speak. All because I punched out a smarmy, young Lieutenant barely off his mother's teat. I wasn't letting him kill my boys because he didn't have enough experience or money to purchase his Captaincy.
That was far off in the future, something for me to look forward too or not as the case may be.
"So congratulations, you've drawn picket duty every night. Lord Bannier has been informed, as you are in his company he will decide when you shall come off. Understood, Your Majesty?"
I nodded and Marius shook his head disappointedly. "He's all yours, Lord Kellantine."
Vixen re-entered the tent, hooked a thumb towards the outside. He didn't say anything, but followed closely. My tent was too close for me to ditch the brute and he wouldn't give up until he found out what happened to his sister.
A few feet from the tent's entrance Siegnette poked her head out. "Erm…Father. Mother politely asks that you don't come inside."
"Politely asks?" I raised an eyebrow sceptically.
"Well, no. Mother used words that you told me I should never, ever, ever repeat under any circumstances," The young Milfanito kicked at the floor, "Mother is really angry with you and I don't know why, but maybe give her some space. Auntie Katie is also angry with you and also used words I'm not allowed to repeat."
"Step aside, sweetness. I need to pick up some things," My musket being the main item. I gently pushed my daughter out of the way, entering the tent. Vexa was sat hunched over a table, she was writing something. A candle flicked, its wax running slowly down the stick and pooling around the base.
"Are you going to hear me out rather than acting like a bloody child?" I placed a hand on her shoulder. Vexa continued to write away, I think it was her personal diary. I would have loved to have known what was written, but I'm not one to invade someone else's private thoughts.
I whispered her name in her ear, hoping to elicit a response. "I've never asked you about you about your prior sexual partners and I don't care, it has never changed my opinion of you. Don't let something that happened before us ruin what we have now."
The redhead snorted angrily and twisted her shoulder away.
"If that's how you want it, fine. I'm on picket duty for the foreseeable future for flooring a Sergeant earlier, I'll be out of your way. Give you your space. But promise me you won't go to bed angry," I buried my nose in her hair, taking in the scent and left a chaste kiss.
I grabbed my belts and other adornments, and headed back out. Vixen was keeping Siegnette occupied. I kissed my daughter's cheek and told her to look after her mother, until such a time I was no longer in her bad book and off picket duty. "Come on then, brother. We can find somewhere private, I'm in no mind to play soldiers today," I waved my hand in the direction of the furthest treeline.
"Wrong answer," A voice other than Vixen replied. Behind the brute Company Sergeant-Major Wakefield appeared. "Your Highness was missing from morning drill. You wanted to be treated like the rest of the scum. So with all due respect my Emperor, shift your arse before I skewer it with my pike. We've got joint drills with the cavalry in twenty minutes and then you're on picket or so I've been told."
I groaned and reluctantly followed Wakefield. I had wanted this though, so complaining would only put me in a bad light. My domestic problems could come later.
There was no time to rest after drilling, straight to my picket where I was to wait until morning. This was a punishment after all.
I wasn't allowed a fire to keep myself warm throughout the night and I had no partner to keep watch with me. Boredom came within minutes and time slowed to a crawl.
"What do you think Sir Ornstein would say about you now?" Vixen startled me. In one of his great paws an earthenware jar was clasped. In the other was a stool, which he placed next to me and took a seat. Even seated the brute was taller than me. He stared off into the dark.
I started to bit my lip. "Something disparaging most likely, followed by scolding me something fierce. Anyway, have you seen my beloved wife in the past few hours?"
The brute nodded and then uncorked the jar with his teeth, spitting the stopper some distance. He took a swig and offered me a drink. I took the jar and brought it to my lips, the alcohol inside sweet and sickly. "I don't know how you drink that stuff, brother. It's like drinking pure honey."
"Well it is mead, Sir. As to my sister, last I saw she was bitching about you to the Princess about being a lying, cheating, bastard, who had slept with the most pox-ridden of whores," Vix frowned and looked up at me, "She found out about Nashandra I'm taking it?"
"Yes...I couldn't lie to her, Vixen. It was for Lucatiel's sake, I don't know why she can't see that. You understand, don't you brother?" I grounded my musket and leant against it. Vixen's usual response to me upsetting Vexa was to threaten me, this was different.
The brute drained the bottle in one gulp, belched, then wiped his mouth. "I understand why you did it. Can't say I would've done the same, as I told you when you first confided in me."
"Oh yes, nothing like yourself and Mytha."
"Nothing like that at all," The brute replied defensively.
"Of course. A marriage so broken and a woman so desperate for love, and you knowing the right things to say to get her dress off," I went quiet, wondering if I should continue pushing this line of argument. "You used her scrambled head, like Nashandra used mine. You got sex, she was successful in demonstrating control over me for however little time that was."
Vixen folded his arms across his chest and narrowed both eyes. "Now that is cruel, Sir. And I have come to regret certain action in my formative years, I was young and didn't know any better."
I would give him that to an extent, the base parts of the brain, the id, is difficult to tame. At the end of the day an animal is an animal.
"And it wasn't helped by the fact she had tits like two great cannon balls. Eh, brother?" I allowed the ghost of a smile to pass my lips, "All the same however...What do I do about your Vex?"
The brute shrugged, he didn't know what to tell me. Give her her space was suggested, which I was already doing. Siegnette was also apparently trying something to diffuse things between her mother and I. 'Best of luck to her' I thought to myself, probably exploiting this to get her mother all to herself and get more cuddles.
"You're welcome to stay with me, until such a time you're back in my sister's good graces...whenever that may be."
I 'tsked' and rolled my eyes. "I'll take you up on that whenever I'm free of this punishment." Though Vexa may have forgiven my by then. The brute vanished before Sergeant-Major Wakefield did his rounds, making sure none of us were sleeping on picket duty. Only a few hours in and I considered this hell. By day 3 I was ready to throw myself prostrate before Marius and beg for release from this torture. No such luck. Even after we packed up camp and moved on from the Valley of Defilement I was on picket every night. Long march, picket. Long march, picket. Long march, you get the picture. I was dead on my feet, but on I slogged. Ever the good little soldier you see. Again, can't complain because I wanted this life. And we still had a long way to go.
Woodland and grassy flatlands gave way to rocky mountains. It was precarious and slow going navigating the cliffs. We lost a few cannon along with the horses pulling them, tumbling to oblivion over the edge. A day later a supply waggon took a plunge, followed by a waggon ferrying camp followers an hour later. The call was made to take things even slower. That helped things a little, we still lost more to the perilous falls.
The long disused mines of the Burrower King of Stone-Fang became our next location of discovery. I made a mental note not to touch anything that looked like it could set off the AMH, I didn't quite fancy meeting the dragon god nor the monstrous Flamelurker. I know we had moved on from wearing our powder across our chests, still there was enough powder in our cartridge boxed to do some serious damage. The first day we didn't lose someone was the one we found an open cast mine big enough to temporarily home the entire army. I was still on picket duty and that meant sitting up top around the edge of the pit.
"Father!" Siegnette had sneaked up and hugged me from behind. Her grip was tight, like she had no intent of letting go.
My lips were pulled into a smile. "Come to keep you're old dad company, eh?"
"I haven't seen you in so long. I was beginning to miss you," She pressed harder into my back before releasing and coming round front.
I knew the other reason as to why she had come to seek me out. "Remind me, what's the date today?"
The young Milfanito answered, "The fifth." She was sporting such a wide grin on her face, I feared it might split in two.
I was grinning too, knowing the day was special.
"Eighteen years old," I found it hard to believe, only wish we could have been in a nicer place to celebrate her birthday. I cupped her cheek and move my thumb in circles, proud that she had grown up to be such a fine young woman.
I apologised for not having any present for her. My daughter shrugged, "I don't mind, but you could make up with Mother."
"Oh, sweetness," I frowned, "That's not up to me. I want us to be back together, but it's your mother who needs to forgive me. Is she well?"
Siegnette nodded. "I think Mother's lonely though. I accidentally caught her," My daughter leant in and whispered, "Touching herself." Her cheeks flushed.
I never thought Vexa would be so careless as to get caught, at least it was only self abuse. I felt myself getting jealous at the thought of her sleeping with another man in some form of petty revenge. That was no good, I was doing what exactly what she had done when this whole mess had started. To put my mind at ease I asked Siegnette who had visited her mother in the past several months of my absence.
"Only Uncle Vixen and Auntie Katie. Why?"
"Because I'm scared that your mother would leave me for someone else," This was all coming full bloody circle. Don't you hate it when jokes backfire on you.
My daughter reassured me that Vexa wouldn't do that, even though she was still rather angry with me. That woman could hold a grudge; we were made for each other.
"Tell you what, sweetness. Can you go to your uncle Marius and try to persuade him to take me off picket duty?" It was a long shot, but I had faith in my little girl to pull it off.
The girl beamed at me, "I already have. He told me that Sergeant Wakefield would send someone to relieve you in half an hour."
I wrapped my arms around her and picked her up in a hug. "That's my girl," I peppered her face with joyful birthday kissed, until she started to fuss and shied away. "What? Is the birthday girl too old to be getting kisses from her dad?"
The girl tried to hide her blush behind her hands.
"Oh, my adorable little Siegnette. I don't know where the time has gone," I parted her hands to better see her face. A beautiful smile outshone the blush and the whole of that chubby face of hers lit up.
She returned one of the kisses. "They've gone into making me feel like the most loved girl in the world, Father. Thank you for saving me," Siegnette went back in for another hug, resting her head against the crook of my neck, "I love you and Mother so much."
I clicked my tongue. "Sweetness, you're going to make me cry. You may have been a constant pain in my arse for thirteen years, but we wouldn't dare have it any other way. I don't think I need to tell but me and your mother are so proud of you, you've grown up to be such a fine young woman."
The young Milfanito tightened her hug. I felt a cheeky grin form on her lips. "Mother's still my favourite though."
I took ever nice thing I'd said back.
"But you still give the best cuddles, Father," My daughter paused and for a moment I though she had managed to save herself, but she opened her mouth again, "When Mother isn't available, that is."
So this was how she was going to play it. "Would you like to be disowned, Siegnette?"
"You're not really my father so you can't really disown me," The young Milfanito told me smugly, drawing out each 'really' as she said them. I could see she was trying to be clever.
"And you're really pushing your luck, little one."
Another smug grin, "But you're not really my father, but you are my Dad."
That was the first time I had ever heard her call me that and I felt I fire start to burn in my heart, it made very happy that that was how she saw me. I don't think any other parent would say different.
"If you could guilt-trip your uncle Marius even more, I might be able to get a few days off to spend with you."
A sentry's gun went off and I instantly reached for mine, already seeing the approaching banners, and fired off a round too. Best laid plans, eh?
Whoever these people were, they were going to get a strongly worded message from me for getting in the way.
Not a second later the drums called for us to form up. There were enough sentries to form a loose skirmish line, at least until the main force could muster.
"Back down to the camp, now!" I ordered my child, snuffing the small fire I had lit and ran to the drums. About 50 men in total were spread out in a staggered line with an Ensign stood at the end directing us. He was younger than Siegnette by a few years, his voice unsteady as he issued commands. His Sergeant was really the one in charge, although there should have been a Lieutenant in command.
The approaching host was large, standards and banners hung limply from their poles. A group broke away from the main force, white flags attached to their lances. At the head road a man with a brilliant aura, dressed in ancient armour and wearing an interesting blade on his back.
He trotted ahead of the small group, horse rearing before the skirmish line in quite the impressive display of horsemanship.
"Who be you men and what is your intent with these lands?" The man's voice boomed from beneath his helm, clean and crisp as if his head were naked. The helm itself was intricately designed, not that dissimilar to Vexa's Looking-Glass helm with the relief of a face carved into it.
There was only one man I had heard about wore armour like that. Well, I suppose if the Saint Astraea was real, why shouldn't the demi-god Doran?
"Have you men no tongues within your mouths? Or perhaps you be slow? Has not one of you the brains to answer me?" The old king Doran rode his steed back and forth.
The young Ensign had no idea what to do, I could see the panic on his face. This could easily turn into a repeat of last time, that would not be allowed to happen.
With an unsteady voice the Ensign called for his Sergeant to have the men present arms.
I stood, stepping towards the mounted demi-god. "Disregard that order, Sergeant Madsen. We don't need no bloodshed."
"And who be you, Sir? A common man to give orders to his superiors, know your place man and let be what will be be. If you will not answer a simple question, we will wipe you from our lands."
"Me, Sir? I'm His Imperial Majesty, Johannes-Fredrick von Bayer of the Erebayan Empire and former King of Drangleic," I disengaged the lock of my musket, dropping it forward and tipping the priming powder out. "We're just passing through, we want nothing of the land other than food and drink. We mean no harm to you, Old King Doran of Boletaria."
The mounted man cocked his helmeted head to the left. He wheeled his horse about and dismounted, he was a good head and a half taller than me. The Old King reached over his back and unsheathed what I could only assume was Northern Regalia. The point of the blade was soon at my exposed throat, the contemptible sneer under the helmet was as loud as a cannon shot.
"You expect me to believe that this threadbare creature is royalty?" The question was directed to the Ensign.
The young lad was tongue-tied, he kept glancing at his Sergeant to help him. "That man is telling the truth," Sergeant Madsen answered in Ensign's stead.
The demi-god harrumphed, "I did not ask you." Northern Regalia was moved ever so slightly closer to my throat. This was not going very well.
"We're not lying to you, Doran and it would be best for you to put down that sword," I could feel the heavy-cavalry through the ground before they could be heard. Markus Akandra would be speeding towards me with his bronze plated knights behind him.
"To the Emperor," One cried, thundering past and circling, "Protect His Majesty." Behind were a company of dragoons, musketoons already pulled from their holsters. Some even carried hand-mortars, ready to lob grenades if necessary.
I twisted my head about to find the Viscount Akandra. I picked out his plumed helmet and yelled, "Don't engage them. This old fool won't see sense, that doesn't mean they have to pay for it."
The Old King took a step back, changing his stance, "Best me, so called royalty. Then I may listen to your heathen tongue."
I barely had time to seat my bayonet before the first attack or defend against the flurry that followed, each one heavy and drained me of strength. I'm embarrassed to admit it, but this demi-god was stronger than me. I feared that with each consecutive strike my musket might be bisected. Unlikely yes, but I wasn't really in the mindset to be making logical conclusions.
Each thrust of my bayonet was blocked by a well-timed parry and riposte, it wasn't going well for me. Then again, I've never claimed to be the best at fighting.
The founder of Boletaria taunted me with every attack, in his eyes I was pathetic. No honour, no social rank, no military prowess, nothing that made me a worthy opponent.
My uniform was in tatters, the blade of Northern Regalia slicing through the wool with ease. Blood ran from every cut making it more and more difficult to keep a tight grip on my musket, my hands were soaked. Yet not only my grip but my sight too, a deep gash on my forehead filled my eyes with nothing by crimson.
Every movement pained me, I was struggling. It wouldn't be long before I was out of it and it wasn't. A hot, searing pain shot through my neck as the tip of Northern Regalia passed through my throat, followed by it being swiftly plunged into by chest with one strong thrust.
Each breath was a rattling-gasp, each one collapsing the lung little by little. Nothing was healing like it should, I had no energy left. The endless nights on picket duty had drained me completely. The floor hit me with force of a sledgehammer to the gut, I was ready to go to sleep.
Old King Doran knowing that this fight was over turned to his men, gloating like they all do in the movies. Stupid bastard.
I struggled to right myself using the firelock, pulling the bayonet free and fumbling blindly for a powder flask. I would shoot him in the back like I would in the front, bugger being honourable.
The musket barked forth smoke and lead, it was the last thing I saw.
My long sleep came with a dream, an old but familiar dream. A garden of crucifixes, bathed in misty twilight. Although I hadn't been there in years, the doll-like woman was still the same. Tall, pale-skinned with silver-white hair.
Arms wrapped around each other and we span without a word, we were to dance for an eternity. All things come to an end however and we stopped dancing. My dance partner stepped back and her porcelain mask-like face melted away, revealing Lucatiel's.
"Hello, honey," I smiled and she smiled back, then threw a punch. "Why?" I rubbed my bruised jaw, wondering why my dream had struck me.
"Because I felt like it, von Bayer," The blonde undead cracked her knuckles, "And because you haven't come to visit for awhile. I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me."
"I've been busy," I ran a hand over my face, "And you know, you're dead and I'd moved on, and you're currently a figment of my imagination. Clearly I haven't forgotten you, I'm still carrying your soul aren't I?"
Lucatiel patted my cheek with her hand. "What have I told you about pouting? And I know I'm part of your head, which begs the question why did you dream me up?"
Truthfully I didn't know, maybe I just wanted a familiar face to keep me company whilst my body healed. I think I would have preferred Vexa, she was still with me even if she was pissed at my sleeping with Nashandra.
"Dream sex," I replied, keeping as little emotion in my voice as possible, "It's been awhile since I had the real thing."
The blonde undead snorted, "Not even in your dreams, von Bayer."
"Yes, I'd feel guilty even if it was a dream. What do I do about Vexa, Luca?" I asked, not expecting an answer. I was talking to part of myself after all. Saying that however, the real Lucatiel had known about my arrangement with Nashandra and hadn't acted like my wife.
The memory of my former love shrugged and rested up against one of the crucifixes, "Talk to her after this silly business is concluded with the Boletarians and don't punch any more Sergeants or anyone else for that matter. Thuggery will get you no-where."
"I know, honey. I know," The misty twilight above was fading into darkness, time was up. "It seems I'm waking. I'll try to make sure there isn't as large a gap between my next visit."
"As long as you don't forget me or my name, von Bayer." And with that she faded into the dark too and my eyes peeled open, the light painful.
My daughter was in the tent, back turned to me, talking loudly with someone I couldn't make out. When she turned I found it to be a Lieutenant of the 76th Hussars, a handsome young man and enthusiastic. Did I also mention 8 years too old for my baby-girl.
I cleared my throat, spooking the two.
"Father!" Siegnette looked relieved and took my hand. I was then taken back to my dream as she slapped with some force. "That was from Mother!" The girl's plump features turned serious, before she threw her arms around me and gave me a tight hug, "This if from me however."
Whilst my daughter was hugging me I sent a glare towards the Lieutenant, "Go get Mari...Viscount von Strepp."
"Yes, Your Majesty," The young man stood at attention, then hastily put on his helm and ran like I'd lit a fire under his arse.
When I was sure we were quite alone, I allowed Siegnette onto the bed. "Sorry for making a mess of your birthday, sweetness."
"It's alright, you have a whole year to make it up to me. You can start with that pony I wanted when I was ten."
"You did get that pony. It was the one your mother taught you to ride on," I said matter-of-factly, stroking her hair, "Where is she anyway? Has she been here?"
The girl nodded; Vexa had been present what I had been brought in after losing the fight, but she soon got angry and had to leave. Angry at me? Angry at the situation we were in? Siegnette didn't know, my daughter being the one to stay by my side.
"When I'm talking with your uncle Marius, go find your mother for me and come and tell me where she is. Just that though, I want to catch her off guard, so don't tell her I'm up."
"Alright, Father," The young Milfanito mimicked the soldiers she'd been surrounded by for so long, making her exit and I hoped it was directly to her mother and not to find that Lieutenant.
Thoughts of my daughter were put aside when Marius rapped his knuckles against the door frame and poked his head through. "How you feeling, Your Majesty?"
The question confused me, it almost sounded like the Viscount was concerned for me.
"Sore, very sore," I swung my legs over the side of the bed, throwing the nightgown the surgeons had put me in to the corner in a messy pile and found my breeches, along with Lucatiel's soul.
I looked the Viscount and sighed, "I can't do right, can I? I open my mouth to be antagonising, violence happens, I open my mouth to try and diffuse a situation, violence happens. How many did we lose fighting the Boletarians?"
"None," Marius von Strepp replied bluntly, "King Doran accepted the bout as ending in a draw. By that I mean you lost spectacularly, but he was impressed enough that he forgot that part."
I had put a ball in his back at close range, Doran shouldn't have been thinking anything. Shouldn't have been surprised though, had done the same to Nashandra and she'd walked away from it, and she wasn't a demi-god.
"King Doran has given us permission to travel through his land, he however have a proposition for us," The Viscount lit up his pipe, "He has a problem and…"
"Doesn't want to waste the lives of his own men, say no more. What problem does he need solving?" I wasn't overly enthusiastic, but if it meant we could move on without interruption then who was I to complain. Rest first, then we'd do the job for Doran.
Marius dipped his hand in his waistcoat pocket, finding his watch and studied it. "We're dining with the King in forty minuets to discuss things further, if your Majesty's feeling up to us please join us," He took a deep drag from his pipe, smoke then streamed from his mouth and nose. "And well done for using your head for once, Ensign Richtmann should not have been left in that situation alone and Lieutenant Blacher has been dealt with for his negligence."
Yeah, he'd been shot.
The Viscount concluded with telling me I was no longer on picket duty and left, just in time for Siegnette to return with the information I was after. She was with Katie, time to set the plan into motion. The first thing was to draw Katie away from my wife, that was Siegnette's job.
"Actually Father, I promised Viktor that I would spend the evening with him. So, bye," She bolted before I could grill her, who the bloody hell was Viktor? That bloody hussar no doubt. Well, if he thought he could get his hands on my daughter he could think again.
That rattled my cage a little and I forgot about my dastardly plan to win back Vexa. I instead kept my mind occupied with thoughts of what I would do to the hussar if he hurt Siegnette, and before you knew it time to dine with the officers.
The whole ordeal was a bore, and I didn't find King Doran to be an amusing host. He refused to believe that I was Emperor, though he accepted that we were gods. When we departed for the evening I was the only sober one, a rarity I know but I wasn't in the mood for drink.
I thought to myself that I would read in my tent, soft candle-light, a wraith playing the violin, and nothing else. Too bad the book I intended to read was open in the hand of Vexa.
I flopped down onto the bed, the first time I'd been close to my wife in months and she snubbed me. Not even an 'are you alright now?', or anything like that. She didn't fuss however when I planted my head on her lap.
"That book must be really interesting, my love. Read to me, would you?" I trapped her hand, making it difficult for her to change the page.
The redhead harrumphed, "Get off me, Jonathon." A sudden push had me on the other side of the bed and Vexa turned away.
"Oh well," I slipped under the covers, turning my back also. "If you're going to continue being silly, who am I to stop you. All I wanted to do was spend a little time with my wife after being away from her."
In response I received a grunt.
"Sweet dreams to you too," I muttered into my pillow and forced myself to sleep. And whilst she wouldn't admit it, Vexa ended up with her arms around me. At least that was how I found her in the morning and for the first time in months got to kiss my wife. She didn't wake, but I hope she knew it was full of my love for her. Cheesy, I know, but I wanted things to go back to normal.
I was feeling better, none of King Doran's sword strikes having left anything permanent, my body had healed nicely. Someone had also washed at patched my uniform (It was more patchwork than original at this point), along with some leg-wraps that were now mandatory for all soldiers to wear. Puttee's for leg support, also helped in keeping water mostly out of our shoes and soaking out stockings. And whilst the stock of my musket was being repaired, I had been issued a cavalry musketoon.
Right, so the Boletarian Palace was suffering from a little Daemonic incursion...again, but without the fog this time. The old King seemed to think that these were remnants of the first eons ago and had been waiting for the right time to reappear. The Boletarians had been forced to besiege their own castle and had nearly formed a breech in the southern-most outer wall. The Daemons had unfortunately destroyed their siege-engines before a breech could be properly established, so he wanted some expendable soldiers to go up on scaling ladders. Shite to that, we'd open the breech with cannon.
We marched out just after noon and it was a hard march, no stopping until we reached the wall and the engineers set to work. The guns came a day later and were put to work immediately. They drew out the knights under Doran's command who stood gawping at our artillery, jumping every time one fired.
Every now and again a ballista's bolt would scream overhead and bury itself into the ground behind the cannon, often followed by a flurry of arrows. I was only on the palisade once and spied an ashen-grey face pulled taut in a permanent grin peer out between the crenellations. These grinning-ministers were the daemons, soul stealers. The cursed men on the battlements, not so unlike hollows, were under their command.
It was one scorching hot morning when the wall crumbled. We were out drilling when it came down, couldn't have missed it with all the noise. There was an almighty crash and the guns fell silent. We were going in that night.
Young Richtmann was to lead the Forlorn Hope, wanting to prove that he was ready for a full command after his embarrassment before King Doran. Both von Strepp and Akandra tried to stop the boy but there was no getting through to him, he wanted the guaranteed promotion if he survived.
"Your not going in with the Forlorn," Marius told me, bend over a table. He was studying the map of the castle's interior for the fifth time I'd been in the tent.
I folded my arms, "When did I say I wanted to go in with the Forlorn Hope? I'll go in with my own regiment, thank you." Breeching Drangleic castle had been enough for me and that had been over a decade before. The honour this time would go to the first company of the 8th Grenadiers, along with volunteers from several other companies.
I wouldn't want to be them, the waiting was bad enough for me never mind those buggers. I sat smoking what must have been my 20th fag, hand shaking.
Marius stood, "Lets go see the boys off, give them a bit of encouragement."
I didn't say much leaving that to the officers, they knew what to say to the lads to get the blood boiling. I did sweeten the pot however. "The first man who crosses the breech and comes back alive I will personally make a pure-born," I added, "And shall receive a promotion relative to his current rank. Good luck, lads."
Each man stood up without noise, fuses smouldering warmly in the dusk, and they marched off. Engineers walked just ahead carrying fascines to plug the moat.
I rejoined my company and continued to wait, going through 6 more cigarettes in that time. The sound of musketry and shouting fill the air, along with the flash and bang of grenades. Our signal was the raising of their standard above the battlements.
"They've done it!" I heard Marius shout and ordered the other companies to move in.
"The Third will advance in column. Steady now, boys," Lord Bannier gave the command which was echoed by the Sergeants. When the breech was in sight we were let loose.
The scramble was horrid, near vertical in places and most of it was blood-soaked. I cut my hand on a piece of jagged stone and would have fallen back if not for another man catching my collar. In places blood was mixed with oil, undoubtedly the soulless defenders had poured it down on the Hope. By the time I reached the top I was panting and blinded by sweat, I let adrenaline take over and move my body for me.
The battlements were clear apart from the dead, thankfully more of theirs than ours.
"To the streets, you bastards!" A Corporal near me yelled, "We need to get to the gates."
Down and down we went, fighting the odd defender still left and made it to ground level. A line of crossbowmen greeted us, backed by more of those grinning-ministers and larger more animal-like daemons.
We traded bullet for bolt and grenade for fireball, eventually having to get stuck in with the bayonets. Those minister were a lot tougher than I thought, split from groin to grin and the laugh still came. Their laugh haunted me for some time after.
"Form line, two ranks," A Sergeant cried over the noise of battle, bayonets out and load for volley. The daemons had bolstered more soulless defenders to side, husks in full harness with halberds and spears.
"Platoon will give fire by rank!" Came another order, "Present arms!" Our muskets were levelled against the charging enemy and pulled tight into our shoulders.
"First rank, give fire!"
The first rank's volley did well to cut a great swathe from the enemy. It didn't stop the charge, they kept on coming.
"Second rank, give fire!"
We continued the devastation of the first volley. I didn't even need to think about it, the trigger was pulled and I was ready to present the pan to start the re-load. The first rank gave the enemy a second volley and halted the charge; we, the second, waited for the next order.
"The Third will fall back to the gatehouse. Slowly boys and keep facing them," Our Sergeant spoke above the noise.
It wasn't that far back and were allowed to take the odd shot to drop a closing enemy. We had done our job. The Grenadiers took and held the breech, we widened the gap and dented the enemy forces, now fresh soldiers could take out the rest. We waved on the men of the 18th and the knights of King Doran, mounted and otherwise.
"Permission to drink, Sergeant?" The man next to me asked and was given it, we all were. I took my canteen, the same one gifted to me by Gavlan, had a swig to take the taste of powder from my mouth and then poured the rest over my head. Did I mention the heat?
With fresh troops having entered the Boletarian walls and pushing further towards the palace, we got a breather. Not long, enough to catch our breaths and for me to realise how much my muscles were aching. Three of my nails were torn and bleeding, they wouldn't hinder me.
Sergeant-Major Wakefield and Lord Bannier strode out before us, "Breaks over. We're joining with the men of the twenty-sixth and sweeping this area of the castle. You'll break off into sections and go from building to building clearing away any stragglers."
Oh good, the 26th was where Sergeant 'Whiplash' resided and just who myself and Don got landed with, alongside several other men. Clearing out the remaining dreglings couldn't be that difficult, now could it?"
I'm back. Until Next time,
Sorry for the wait, my old laptop sort of blew up on me and it too quite a while to find a new one. That and I've been working on other pieces and faffing about with other things. Hopefully the next part won't take as long to put out.
As always I hope you all enjoy this mess.
Farewell.