De Bello Propter Drusabaldam
A "Mount and Blade: Bannerlord" tale
by Terrae Corvorum
Under the milky winter sun of the Calradian oriental border between Sturgia and the Land of Khuzaits, they were marching. The cold, in that just born morning, was so intense, that the men marching under the Golden Swan banner, were afraid to piss. That was the first time, for the most part of them, reaching that far northern point of Calradia. On the front, leading them, as always, Lady Saphya of the Lantares, Empress of the Parthenasian Empire. The Demon Empress. The Empress of the Betrayal. The Only Empress.
"The weather will change in better soon. We could wait for it there, in that village", said Saphya to Her three most near followers.
Her brother, the Princeps Etheri Vaernus, Her husband, Emperor Lek of the Vagiroving, and me, Augustus Bnalnius, former monk of the Temple of the Eagle in the City of Shan'nah, and now Her Ductor Etheri.
We weren't the only ones seeking for shelter from the icy weather. When entering the Sturgian village, we saw their horses, the green banners, held by guards with long and proud beards, and a carriage with rich ornaments. The Only Empress stared at it for some seconds, before proceeding towards the only inn of the place.
Her soldiers were setting up camp outside the wretched village fence, while we Etheroi were escorting Her up to the small hill, where our destination stood.
They were Battanians. The other guests of the village, I say. Guided by an old friend of mine. A friend I met, for the first time, many years ago. Our eyes recognized each other in a matter of an instant. He rose his gigantic figure from his chair to welcome me with a happy smile of his.
"Many years have passed, my friend!" he said offering to me his hand.
I answered grasping it with my own and then embracing him.
"Too many. And of a hard kind too!"
"Yeah, I see perfectly! You grew old, friend!"
"Yeah, I know", I said, while my Only Empress gave me a smile and went over us.
"War never ends."
"Same reason for your journey, Myrinthias?" I asked.
He shaked his head, smiling.
"I'm marrying, Augustus."
"Don't tell me. Your dearest Elaena?"
"Then I won't tell you", he laughed.
"Good, mihi familiaris! I'm really happy for you."
"Can I offer you a beer? We don't see each other from a very long time! You were still in your quest for finding her."
"And – I said, pointing my chin in Her direction – as you can see, I succeeded. I'm more than happy to drink with you."
"In Battania voices arrive every day of all it's happening in the Empire. And those are not good..." he said looking at me worried.
"Have they ever been, mihi familiaris?"
"Not from what I remember, – he laughed – you got a point."
"Many things happened, after I found Her."
"I am here. Eager to listen."
"Sanctissima! – I jokingly exclaimed in disbelief – Not today, no. There would be need of weeks. But, you know, I'm writing down everything. Call it an Etheri extrema nota."
"Why, Extrema?"
"Because I will use it to give an end to all this. One day. Very, very distant from today, mihi familiaris. When us, all of us, will already be forgotten."
"Yeah, as everyone else, Augustus."
"But! – I rose my arm – It will be when forgotten, that the unremembered ones will put an end to the story. Iam victi, mihi familiaris, vicimus."
"You maybe know something I don't?" he smiled.
I lowered my voice.
"The Empire will be done for good. Soon. In some years from now. And I'm not just talking about Rhagaea's Empire. That one is already at its sunset."
Myrinthias looked at me. He knew too, probably.
"But, today, – I continued – I will tell you actually something. I met, here in Calradia a lot of valorous men and women. People ready to any sacrifice for their believing in what we're building here. For their faith in Her. I will tell you about one of them. A woman whose heart will be, one day, forgotten too. Her name was Drusabalda."
It's a... dangerous story, the one twining Drusabalda the Huntress to my Only Empress. She doesn't like when it's told. Really. I know a good part of the tale... through my own way, actually. I won't risk to explain everything now to you. Maybe, some day, I will. I hope, really, that I will.
I had the great luck to know her. Drusa, as I was allowed by herself to call her, was a commoner. A pretty naive one, at first glance, you'd say. But, from the words spoken about her by the Etheroi following the Only Empress, and from the too brief moment of my life I spent with her, one of the most lovely and lively person any soul can meet in this war torn world. Her duty was to the Imperial village of Thractorae, in the outskirts of the homonym castle.
At that time, the Only Empress, was still a Feudal Lady at the order of Rhagaea. To be more precise, at the order of... Comes Honoratus of the Pethros, the nephew of Rhagaea and, at the period, probable heir of the Southern Empire, being Princess Ira, the only offspring of the Empress of the South, dead one year before of a misterious illness.
Lady Lantares and the Count had a liaison that lasted for more than one year. She loved him. Of a kind of Love that normal people can experience only reading a book. But, to be respectful with the dead, also with a one that doesn't deserve it, – I was a monk, after all – I have to say that the sentiment was very far from being mutual. She, the actual Only Empress of the Calradian people, the woman you see there, commanding three legions and over 50 Etheroi, was no more than a toy to him, a trophy, something beautiful to be shown to the other Lords like him.
But She, as I said, loved him fiercely. Did anything for his love. Blindly or willingly risking Her own life to do so. For making him happy and proud to be with Her, a disgraced Lady at the time, with anything but Her sword, body and soul to give to him.
Hmm? Why, you said? That's another story. For now I will tell you that it was because of a... cloak. A dirty, overused cloak. But, I told you. I will tell Drusa's story to you, just hers. I won't allow my tale about her to be soiled by that being. I will use him, his filthy deeds, just to introduce her story.
In 1086 there was an expedition. The father of the comes, Lord Fidelius, was kept prisoner in Thractorae Castle by the Emperor of the Western Empire, Garios of the Comnos. The Pethros could not stand the offense. Even an offense caused by the inadequacy to command of the same Magnus Comes. He lost the support of his army in the middle of enemy territory. The army disbanded too soon. They were attacked near Zeonica and annihilated. Two legions fell for his incompetence. Over two thousand southerners. And many fiefs became unruly for the deaths of their lords, his generals.
But, what was paramount to Rhagaea, and her House, was cleaning the offense. Restore the good name of the Family! The Magnus Comes had to be freed. And of the same idea, was Honoratus. After all, filial piety is said to be a common thing also among dogs. You know how do we say? Ave, Penates! Ave, Antecessoris! Family, and its name. Its meaning is everything. Its meaning is nothing.
The mission had to be... unconvential for a legionary, an imperial soldier. No drums of war, no tubae curvae, no army to be announced by those. It had to be what we in the Empire call "a blue-sky bolt". Something sudden, to take by surprise the enemy, an attack brought by a fistful of chosen ones, to strike without mercy, quickly, and then run away. Honoratus was charged to lead the mission and choose the men – and women – that would have accompanied him. And Lady Lantares was his first choice. I saw Her in that moment. The girl smiled with pride and Her eyes seemed to sparkle with joy for the trust Her lover bestowed on Her.
The mission was a success. The Magnus Comes, wounded, was found and recovered by Lady Lantares Herself. When She noticed that his leg was injuried, She helped him reaching the exit and fleeing from the castle, still unaware of their presence. Another member of the expedition, however, was, I'd say, much more careless than Her. Funny to know who she was and who did she became later. But another story, also this one.
The injuried Magnus Comes slowed Lady Lantares. The rest of the group was already out of the walls. Even the commander, so worried for his old father kept in prison by the enemy, was calmly waiting for Lady Lantares to deliver him to the rescue team. She didn't.
But She kept the enemies, whom were chasing them, busy, allowing Her – She thought – wanna-be father-in-law to reach the son waiting for him with his horse. In the end, She was sorrounded, wounded and taken, while screaming Her lover name, in search of his help. That never came.
She spent two months in that foul prison. She never told anyone what happened to Her there. But you could easily imagine what did she had to survive, knowing that She was the Lantares clan leader, one of the families of the western border, that passed to the enemy. Knowing that the... blathers about Her daemoniacus sanguis were already known. And that no one never offered a ransom to rescue Her.
She, somehow, managed to escape. Chasen. Half dead, starving. She ran away like a noble fox hunted by filthy and drooling war dogs. She lost herself in the woods near the castle. And there She fainted, sure of Her forthcoming death. She was found, in the end. But, not by enemies. By a young woman. A huntress of the nearby village, and there brought by her.
She helped Her recovering Her wounds. She talked with Her a lot, trying to make also Her mind heal from the devastating experience. The name of the huntress was Drusabalda, as you might have guessed by now. But she hated it, and asked Her, kindly, since the beginning, to call her Drudru.
Drudru was a tireless speaker. Always smiling and joyful. Her mind was never at rest. She was the perfect kind of person to restore Saphya's spirit in that moment. And she managed. When Saphya started talking again, she proved to be also a great listener. Listening at Saphya's tale, Drudru started to make to herself many questions. One of those... For one of those she understood she had to find the answer as soon as possible, and she felt she had to do something to discover it.
On one day of the following spring, Saphya was finally ready to leave and going back to Her family. But before leaving, She asked Drusa if She could thank her in any way for what she did for Her. Drusa took Her hand.
"Bring me with you." she said, then.
Saphya tried to explain to her the dangers of that path, but Drudru was unmovable. And Lady Lantares acconsented.
Drudru became the leader of the Lantares army's scouts in less than fifteen days. She was able to follow a track left one week before, by only ten mounts, in the middle of a forest even during a rainstorm. She was loved by everyone in Lantares' army. Lord Vaernus – Lady Lantares' older brother – for obvious reasons, not only loved her, but was ever by her side everytime she needed help. One day she asked why.
"You are the only reason why we're still together – he said – You saved my sister, healed her, fed her, while everyone else didn't. You risked your job, even your life, to save her. I will always be grateful to you."
Lord Vaernus of the Lantares told me that she laughed in disbelief as answer.
"You're wrong. Your sister saved me", was the only thing she replied.
Vaernus didn't understand the meaning of those words. He just thought she wanted to be humble. He didn't know her well, still, because she was speaking her true thought.
Drusa was an Imperial, but lived a deep connection with Nature. Really similar to the one you Battanians or the Vlandians live. She believed in Samisa, as Lady Lantares' mother did. And this was often topic of discussions between the two.
"If you don't believe, Saphya, why is the Golden Swan of Samisa on your banner?" one day she asked Her.
"It's my family crest."
"You could have changed it."
"I want that... is known from where I am from", tried to explain Her reason the Lady of the Lantares.
"Why? By who?"
And Saphya got angry at that point. So much that Drudru was not only startled, but also worried. Not for herself: she would have entrusted her own life to Saphya. She was worried for Her.
She never touched the topic again up to one day, some years later.
Saphya was tired of being always sorrounded by other people. At that time, She was in sweet waiting of her first born child, Galryn, offspring of Her marriage with Eutropios of the Pethros, the brother of Honoratus, but without any claim to the throne. She was just been made in charge, as Feudal Lady, of Her first fief, Razih.
For Her it was a great success, something to be proud of. But Rhagaea, with that "gift", in truth, wanted to insult Her, giving to Her a city almost in ruin, that no one else wanted, sorrounded by the merciless Nahasa Desert that was advancing by that time already. Even with its sands devouring the city, once one of the wealthiest and more luxurious of the Aserai Kingdom and at that time just a hideout for criminals and thugs, Saphya never gave up in Her fight to improve the life conditions of the people living there. She soon became known by them as the "Queen of the Nahasa".
Lady Lantares loved Razih. Its people, its narrow streets kissed by the shadow under the hitting sun, its market, its palms near the small pond just outside the walls, the seaview from the Hill of Bahlul. She loved to cross the city from east to west, north to south, alone, with Her face concealed by an almost translucent blue silk veil. But it was dangerous. At that time, the city was still almost completely controlled by people that didn't like imperials, and foreigner as well. So, when Drusa discovered Her way to spend Her free time, got worried, for Her and for Her child, and started to follow Her at distance.
Lady Lantares noticed her the second day. She turned the corner and waited for the friend to show up.
"Drudru..." She greeted her.
"Milady!" Drudru, caught and jumpscared, answered.
"I like your presence, when it's not concealed, you know it, right?"
"Yeah..." Drudru just said, and she looked to Saphya, demeaned.
"Come with me, then." Saphya said.
They made a long stroll in the city, with Saphya explaining to Drudru everything she learned of any place they visited. Was that day that the answer, the definitive answer, to the question feasting with Drudru's brain and heart from the day she knew Saphya, finally came.
In the street there was a mother with her child. She was doing her chores outside her house. She was busy, not caring at that moment about what her 6-7 years old son was saying or doing. Saphya and Drudru passed by the house. The kid stepped in front of them and started to sing a rhyme in an awkward Common to Saphya.
"What is the Vlandian priestess doing during the full moon night in the woods? Is her strange love for tree branches just for her God sake?"
The mother heard. Raised her chin from her laundry. She recognized Saphya. The Lady of the city. A Vlandian. And she knew that idiotic song her son was tirelessly singing all the time to imitate the idiotic father he had. She screamed in fear. Reaching her son and hugging and beating him at the same time.
Saphya was there, standing. Then put a hand on the woman shoulder, smiling.
"Then why she just knees on the bigger ones?" She just completed the rhyme, laughing.
Then, in front of the astonished mother and the laughing kid, she searched in Her pocket and gave to him a horse carved in wood that she took as a present for the child She was waiting. The mother thanked Her hundreds of times. And Drusa had her answer.
"I'm proud to be at your side, Saphya." said later to Her.
"Thanks. But, why are you telling this to me now?" Saphya was smiling, a bit surprised.
"You don't wanna know."
"You say? I think that I want."
Drusa avoided her eyes.
"Because... I... could just have been not completely sincere", said to Saphya that didn't understand.
"Why you weren't?"
"You see, I... wasn't with myself too, up to now."
Drusa found the strenght to watch in her Lady's eyes, and went on.
"I... really think I love you, Saphya. But I understand! It's... not the same for you! I just wanted you to know", said that, she kissed Her cheek and went away.
Nothing changed between Drusa and Lady Lantares in the following days, months and seasons. Up to that day two years later.
"You know why do I still believe, Saphya?"
Saphya snorted and raised Her eyes to the astonishingly blue sky of the Khuzaiti land.
"I know that I want to talk about something else", was Her only answer.
The two of them were sitting alone on the grass of the steppe territory. A bit far from the almost set up camp. They had to stop there to wait for the reinforcements, before reaching the battlefield of Dhuga for the upcoming battle with the fearable Khuzaits' horse archers. That battle, if won, would have opened them the road to Akkalat.
Drusa explained however to Her.
"I believe because I met you in the exact moment my faith faltered. And because I know why you show everyone you don't."
Saphya was still looking at the sky, neck bent, eyes lost. She turned to her.
"I know from where you're from – Drusa continued – I know who were your parents. I know the pain you suffered when you lost them.
"Yeah. I think it's the same for everyone, nema?"
"No. And I know why. I really would prefer you having a serene atheism. Really! I know it's not that. I know yours is hate."
Saphya imperceptibly reclined Her head.
"You... know?" She smiled in disbelief.
Drudru also smiled to Her, but her smile, that time, was sad. A really sad smile. So sad, that Saphya had a chill through Her spine. Saphya understood, somehow, that she wasn't lying or bluffing. She really knew. She really knew the foul prayer she sent that hateful day to Samisa. The day of the destruction of Her childhood world brought by the Khuzaits at Parthenas. The prayer that the "Hoe Goddess", as She ever referred to Samisa, maliciously decided to grant to Her. Her eyes leaked a tear.
"How?! How do you know?!" She rose up and furiously shouted.
"You told me."
"Liar! When?!"
Also Drudru rose up and tried to hug Her. Saphya shoved her again on the ground.
"Stay away!"
Drudru nodded, without a word as she stood again.
"When you were in my house. When we met. You... talked in your sleep."
Saphya started to shake, her eyes turned from left to right, right to left. Searching for help. Or for a way, probably, to kill Herself before Her greatest shame could come back to torture Her. But when Saphya turned to the person speaking with Her with a soft voice, full of compassion, She started to shout to her insults.
"I hate you and your goddess! You are just a fucking idiot, you know? You and your fucking goddess! Why are you still following me if you knew all this?! What are you, really a dog?! I don't need dogs, here!"
Drudru didn't lose her glance, full of love for Her.
"It was not your fault."
"Don't look at me that way, you perverted dyke!"
Drudru smiled, even if her eyes turned wet.
"It was not your fault", repeated.
"If you say that again, I'm gonna strangle you, dog! Save'?!"
"Do it. It was not your fault."
Saphya jumped on her, clamping in an instant Her hands to Drudru's neck. Her eyes, full of hate, were staring in the ones of Her friend, almost completely flipped over, while she was emitting strangled noises from her open wide mouth. Saphya was going to kill her. Drudru's hand reached Saphya's cheek. And caressed it. Saphya felt the sweet touch of her fingers, delicately capturing and drying off one of Her tears. Her grasp softened. The eyes of Her friend came back to show, slowly, again their dark irises. Not even a sketch of hatred drawn in them. Not even of self preservation nature. Saphya came back to Herself. Emitted a long and noisy breath and left immediately Drudru's neck. She stared at her, in disbelief, while Drudru was coughing out her soul.
"I... was about to... kill you..." Saphya was crying.
Drusa hurried to answer to Her, even if still very short-breathed.
"I... don't care!"
"You what?"
Drusa, almost killed just a moment before, hugged her beloved aggressor.
"Saphya! Please! I don't care! Don't think of anything, please!"
"You... You don't care?! I do! Who do you think you are? Your fucking compassionate Samisa, by any chance?!"
Drusa started laughing and crying at the same time.
"I love you, idiot. I just love you!" Drudru found the courage and kissed Her.
The life of Drusabalda the Huntress ended shortly after that day. After the great win at Dhuga against the Khuzaits led by Chagun, as I already told you, the road for Akkalat was wide open for the southerners of the Empire. The battle legitimized Saphya as the most capable of the Empire's generals and lords. That success was obtained really only by Her leading skills, by the strenght of Her army, even by the supply plan She developed during the strategy meetings held before departing from Erzenur Castle, at the campaign's eve.
After that battle, Her soldiers, and not only Hers, started to almost worship the Lady of the Lantares. Her name started to be spoken there where it counted. Her crest started to appear even outside her fiefs as a symbol of affinity to the Empire. Her Golden Swan started to be recognized as the Empire itself.
Too much for the Two-Headed Eagle of the Pethros. But we will reach that point soon.
She... was still young. Very young. And Her life, up to that point, had been not a simple one. My Only Empress felt invincible. As any young general, probably, would have, after surviving – moreover with an overwhelming and largely unexpected victory – to an army of over 3000 enraged khuzaits, fighting in their desert, to defend their homes.
And Akkalat was there, just ten miles from Her army camp. In the beautiful horizon of the Khuzaiti's Desert, it looked... so near to Her grasp.
Her War Council wasn't completely convinced by Her choice. Moving to the siege the day after. I and Vaernus weren't convinced at all. Too many were the soldiers still tired or wounded in Her army.
Lady Mela of the Prienicos, born khuzait, but married imperial, Her first-hour supporter, was the first to raise her strong objection. They quarrelled for the first time from when they knew each other. And, griefly, Lady Mela, that day was right. But Saphya was trusted blindly, too much blindly, by more than a half of the council, at that point, after that Her umpteenth miracolous victory.
And, in the end, nefasta sit gloria, nefasta sit claritas, Saphya of the Lantares had Her first "political" victory of Her life. The most regretted, of all Her life.
The army departed at the first sun rays. The marching legionaries, the heavy cavalry, the Etheroi escorting their Lady, coming from the east, rose so much sand and dust, that, from the high walls of Akkalat, that morning should have looked as the darkest of the nights. That symbol, the banner of the Golden Swan, at that point, terrifying for the enemy, but more encouraging than a kiss from the Sanctissima Ereis Herself for its bearers, stationed outside the city for three days, before the siege engines were ready to start the bombing of the city and the annihilation of its defenses.
The ranged battle, between the engines created by the men and women of both sides, lasted four days. And didn't proclaimed a winner. Saphya was outraged and hasty. Her army's will was starting to weaken, she could sense it. She took Her decision: the city had to fall that day, no matter the risks, or the costs.
The tubae curvae resounded in the imperial camp, when she gave the order and sent Her men to execute it. From the walls started to rise the sound of the commotion. Both sides were ready to tear the other one apart.
At that time, the Khuzaits were still fearsome enemies. Monchug still had Banakhand, and its treasury by his side. "The City Made Out of Gold".
I met a khuzaiti historian some years ago. He told me that, when Monchug knew about his army defeat at Dhuga, he just scoffed. After the loss of an army of three thousand men, he just scoffed. And said to his vassals to bring him the head of Chagun, his defeated general, and to raise an army twice bigger as the one just lost, to send it against my Only Empress. And he wasn't talking nonsense. I still remember the Battle of Tepes. But, another story, also that one.
In that case, Monchug's power felt heavily in another way.
The city of Akkalat was terrified. Terrified by Monchug's Black Horse maybe also more than it was by Saphya's Golden Swan. The city was perfectly aware that, in case of voluntary capitulation to the Empire, once Monchug would have assembled his monstruous army and came back to take the city again – because the city was sure of this future event – his vengeance would have been certain and definitive. The city had to resist. To win that battle, to repel the invaders, no matter the costs. No room to fall back and retreat. Fight to the death was their only chance to survive.
The assault started at the first morning light of that day of the Summer 1093. The Khuzaiti Desert sun was literally cooking the imperial soldiers in their armors. The sand, raised by the light wind of that day, that wasn't giving any relief from the hot of the sun, was making the visibility scarce and eyes and throats burn.
Imperial siege weapons were firing blindly up to the moment the siege towers were too near to the walls. That was then the moment for Akkalat defenses to answer. A hell of fire and stones flew from the city. Even the blue sky changed its color and became red of flame and black of smoke. One of the siege tower was hit before reaching the walls. Crumbled. On one hundred imperial soldiers.
I was with my Only Empress in that moment. She didn't open Her mouth, even. I saw Her eyes, Her green eyes, being engulfed by red flames of rage. She ordered ferociously to assault the walls with ladders. She wanted the city. But, more than anything else, She was terrified by failure, and sent an all-in to avoid it.
She was the one that led that deranged assault, together with Her Etheroi. Climbing ten meters high walls, under enemy fire, with Her best soldiers. You know? We say that we hate other people, sometimes, because in them we see our worst part. In that moment, I clearly saw in my Only Empress – Sanctissima Ereis may forgive my words – Rhagaea.
Arrows, stones, javelins. Many men fell. But, in the end, ladders were there to be climbed. At the same time, the city gates were broke down by the ram. The battle at the eastern gate of Akkalat was furious. Saphya saw the opportunity to seize the gates, and sending reinforcements in the desperate fight for the walls from there.
Her Etheroi followed Her also there, in that boiling spirits fight. And there, it happened. Something so terrible, to became the worst stain in my Only Empress spirit, soul, heart. A wound that She has never really been able to heal from. And She, probably, never will.
A javelin, launched probably blindly from the fight, ended its flight in Her leg. Her Etheroi already engaging the enemy, didn't notice the danger She went in. She was wounded and defenseless on the ground. She became, in a moment, a paper tiger. An easy and rich prey for the enemy. When She saw them, coming towards Her, She tried, roaring and crying, to stand up, but didn't manage. She gave up, lying on the sand of Her ignominious defeat, ready to die.
Then She heard. A voice. A friendly voice shouting out Her name. Drudru was there. Saphya raised Her chin, watching the scene of Her peaceful, compassionate, lovely, always smiling scout leader dismembering three of those enemies, shouting Her name and crying in rage. Then, Drudru took Saphya by Her arm, raised Her from the ground and brought Her away from the danger.
Saphya was tired, wounded and afraid to death. She didn't noticed. But, when they were away from the fierce fight at the walls and Drudru, with a deep sigh, made Her lean Her back to a crate in their camp outside the city, She saw those red-plumed wood sticks sprout up from her back.
Saphya didn't know why, but at that moment she thought those were flowers, roses to be precise. Strong and delicate flowers. There were at least ten of them. Drudru started coughing blood in front of Her while asking: "Are you alright? Can you hear me, Saphya?"
Saphya just nodded. Drudru smiled as she used to. Then fell to the ground.
This was the story of Drusa the Huntress.
The city fell in imperial hands, in the end. Another great victory for the Lady of the Lantares. Her myth started from there. From the day She probably started for real to hate Herself.
But, as it is said, Fame is the closest cousin of Glory. The voices about the Great Win of Akkalat spread through the Empire quickly as the storm pushed by the wind of the desert. The Empress of the Southern Empire herself, decided that maybe it was the case to congratulate directly with the impoverished Lady of the Lantares. Just to keep that dirty, but useful, and, at that point, maybe dangerous, foul creature under control.
She reached Akkalat with an army of two thousand legionaries, marching under the Double-Headed Eagle of the Pethros. When she arrived, Saphya was still in the bed for her wound. But, probably, the Empress of the South didn't know, because she made her presence announced to Lady Lantares, but ordered Her to meet in the rooms of the council of the city, far away from where Saphya was resting.
Saphya reached the spot escorted by Her brother, Lord Vaernus, and walking with a stick, being unable even to ride a horse. I too was with Her, that day.
The room, the head house of the council, of those people that tried to make the city livable, notwithstanding Monchug's iron fist, up to imperials' arrive, was occupied by Rhagaea's pretorians and by her presence.
She was arrogantly sitting on the high chair of the lead of the council. Her legs crossed, her back relaxed on the seatback, her chin leaned on her closed fist. She saw Saphya at the entrance, walking with difficulty, and waited for Her to come in front of her chair and bow down to her. When Saphya reached the point in front of her she wanted to, Rhagaea abruplty rose up from her chair.
"No, friend! You don't have to! I see your wound! You can avoid, this time, to bow before me... before your Empress."
Saphya mormoured a word of thanks, while I and Her brother bowed to Rhagaea on our knees.
"The took of Akkalat, my dear friend! I just heard stories about your legendary deeds! Second hand stories! I want to hear everything from you!"
Dear friend... I remembered, in that moment, Rhagaea calling Her somehow differently last time they met. She gave us the permission to stand up.
"It was..." Saphya interrupted Herself almost immediately.
But Rhagaea was waiting for Her tale. Started to look also impatient. Saphya bit Her lips, closed Her eyes. Then started to talk quickly, with no expression on Her face, without any inflexion in Her voice. Automatically, as without a soul, as if daydreaming. Just one thing, She omitted. And Rhagaea noticed.
"I understand, it had to be a fierce and tremendous fight – the Empress started – Your courage is never ending to amaze me. But, this time! This time! – she fixed her black irisis directly in Saphya's green ones – This you have been almost stupidly reckless, isn't it? I heard you also lost some dear ones, isn't it? Some dear friends. Where is that funny girl never leaving your side, following you as a little doggy with her mother? The scout... What was her name? Drusabulda, belda... Drusabella? Drusabalda! Where is she?"
Saphya's fist... I saw it clenching, its knucle became white, while Her face was becoming purple, as She was suffucating in rage. She didn't answered. She was not able doing it without shouting or crying in that moment.
"Still painful? – asked Rhagaea innocently – Oh, poor little girl... Maybe she wasn't your puppy, after all... Maybe something more... delicate? How did she die? You left that dyke die like a dog?"
Saphya's fist hit Rhagaea's face. The pretorians sorrounded us in a second. Their blades already sheated. Rhagaea was on the ground, on her knees. She started laughing. "Stop, stop, my dear praetorianes! – said while standing up again, coming back to confront, face to face, eyes to eyes, Saphya – Mihi praetorianes! You don't want to kill this honourable, fierce, valuable, merciful and brave Lady of the Empire! Not now, at least, not after this great, glorious victory she obtained for us! Everyone makes mistakes every now and then, isn't it, Lady Bitch? You just felt a great loss, Lady Bitch. You just lost a puppy. I can understand your rage, Lady Bitch. But, you see... You have other puppies. I know everything about them. Galryn! Your half-bastard! The half-blooded Pethros! Your first born! Is she still in Razih? You left her alone, Lady Bitch?"
Saphya was shaking. And Rhagaea smiled to Her.
"And the other one... the puppy you had from that sturgian barbarian you fucked while you still were in my family, married with my nephew Eutropios, like the Lady Bitch you are. Is he still with his filthy and ungrateful father in Erzenur?"
Rhagaea took with her fingers one of Saphya's red fired dreadlock, and started twisting it.
"You hit me here, in front of my pretorians. You saw them, but you hit me despite this... You are courageous, Lady Bitch. But, as you can see, I'm powerful. And patient. And I can hit you... whenever and wherever I want."
It was for Drusabalda the Huntress that the unspoken war between Rhagaea and Saphya became the Civil War that changed Calradia forever. For the bond twining her to my Only Empress. But that's another story.