Chapter 75: The Halls of Montezuma
To understand what happened at Hercinia and beyond, I feel I need to tell you a story.
Once upon a time on Earth, there was a people called the Aztecs, in a land called Mexico, on the American continent south of what would later become my homeland.
They were originally migrants to the region, and clustered around a lake called Texcoco with many other peoples, with whom they engaged in economic, cultural and military exchange. They were eventually driven onto small islands on the lake as a result of barbaric acts commanded by the god, and that is where you might think their story would end.
But on an island shown to them by their god through the sign of an eagle perched upon a cactus, they built a mighty city: Tenochtitlan. From their perch on the lake, they traded and warred within even greater capability.
They built a great Triple Alliance; three great cities, of which theirs was the senior partner, and conquered far beyond the watershed of their lake, all the way to the shores of two great oceans; the Atlantic and the Pacific. Here, they demanded tribute from vassals, and warred against neighbours kept independent only for the purpose of capturing humans in battle for sacrifice to their god.
Their city grew mighty in scale as well as power. They built sophisticated aqua-farms, and huge pyramidal temples the likes of which can only be seen on Par Vollen in Thedas.
They had every reason to believe their empire would last forever, as the scions of most empires do.
But across the Atlantic Ocean were the men of Europe and many more besides. Some of them were my own ancestors, but they do not figure in this story as far as I can tell.
There were some Europeans who came to the American continent before, but these arrived far to the north and they did not stay. The Aztecs never knew that they had ever existed. But the would come to know the men of Spain.
Spain was one of the great kingdoms of Europe, located on the southwestern coast. Its own story is one of complex reconquest from a foreign invader and religion over the course of centuries, which adds a certain irony to the story.
The Spanish had taken islands off the coast of the Aztec Empire over the course of thirty or so years before they made contact, finding no great civilisations of note in that time save for many tribes. Their conquest was helped by waves of new diseases brought from Europe which were deadly to the locals.
Rumours of empires on the mainland were widespread, and it was only a matter of time before expeditions would be sent. One resulted in shipwreck, another explored the coasts.
The third was led by Hernán Cortés, a Spanish captain of great ambition. He was determined to find the Aztecs, though he did not know their name, and make his fortune in the process. He found a survivor of the first expedition and a young girl, both of whom allowed him to translate the local languages. He landed on the shores of the Empire, where he met representatives of its Emperor, Moctezuma, or as the older tradition goes, Montezuma.
Like the Free Army and the Trojan Army, Cortés had firelances and new ideas. Though they were both less development. He showed them both off, in attempt to intimidate and convert.
And then the most dangerous question asked for millennia was spoken:
"Does the Emperor possess much gold?"
Indeed he did. The Triple Alliance was rich in many ways.
The Spanish expedition was only a few hundred strong, but its leader's instinct for ambition was up. Having no right to lead any move against any native empire, Cortés laid down his commission as expeditionary leader and founded a town, for which he was elected Captain-General and Chief Justice. This was illegal, but would be tolerated by his King if he could find the huge amounts of gold described.
So Cortés made his way inland, claiming the laws of Spain and Christianity to apply wherever he walked. He met the Tlaxcala, the greatest of the peoples the Aztecs had surrounded and kept as a source of sacrifices. They fought, but eventually realised that they should ally against the more powerful Aztecs. So the Spanish convoy to Tenochtitlan moved on with a great army with it.
Here's the relevant part.
When Cortés entered Tenochtitlan, he found a city of palaces and temples, brimming with gold.
Needless to say, the inevitable happened. He would try and take the gold, the Empire for himself and for Spain. The Aztecs would fight back, but it was not enough. The years of wars to seize captives for sacrifice had made them many enemies. About a year after first arriving in the city, Cortés would rubble it with cannons and invade it on ships, his native allies along with him.
The story gets even more tragic after this point, and is too long to recall here, but know that there is a sort of happy ending in that the Mexican people reclaimed their independence as a mestizo, mixed people.
Why am I telling you this story? If you are from Earth, you may have heard it before. If you are from Thedas, it probably doesn't make a huge amount of sense. Why bother?
Well, it's important for you to understand that to some extent, I am Cortés in this story. The destroyer of civilisations.
Many would argue the civilisation I was in the process of destroying did not deserve to live, as many point to the tyranny and human sacrifice of the Aztecs. Yet they had created something unique, and for many people their lives were better under the tyranny.
I also sought wealth, and not for its own sake but to project my power across a continent. My motives were perhaps different to Cortés, but the means were largely the same. Murder, alliance and money.
At least we didn't spread any diseases that I know of.
Alas, much later, the Marine Corps of the United States of America would get themselves a song called 'The Halls of Montezuma', in tribute to their own actions in Mexico. It begins with these lyrics:
From the Halls of Montezuma,
To the shores of Tripoli,
We will fight our country's battles,
In the air, on land, and sea.
Fairly prophetic. Except the 'in the air' part. At that time anyway.
The Hercinians did not put up a fight as we entered their city.
Two columns of troops filed up the main thoroughfares, and the Marines landed troops at the docks. There were no archers on the crumbling walls, no shield formations thrown across the avenues. There were some onlookers, mostly on the high buildings around us. Plenty of opportunity for ambush... but we had our siege guns on the town, and they knew it.
Retaliation would've been apocalyptic.
I was nervous even so, as I rode through in the middle of the full marching formation of the Foreign Legion to the tune of Brian Boru's March, Tam and Julie by my side.
The apartment blocks and shops were in surprisingly good order, the road was smooth block, not cobblestone. It was mostly brown-pink granite, probably quarried originally from across the river or further down towards the Bay of Dolphins.
Future archaeological examination would reveal that Hercinia used to have a great many more palaces, but they had been cannibalised to repair the greater palaces and the apartment blocks of the lower classes. That's what Hercinia was before we arrived, a city slowly devouring itself through wear-and-tear under the command of pirates and raiders who could do nothing but scavenge.
It was probably the cleanest city I've ever seen in Thedas though after Val Royeaux, and now most of Troy. I guess after years on the road or at sea, shitting in ditches or over the side of ships, you gain an appreciation for not having to see that sort of thing. Or smell it from others.
It also helps immensely with PR. Hercinia was famous not so much as a raider-run city, but as a victim of raiding attacks. Fake raids and pirate landings were made regularly, foreigners abducted for ransom, older buildings burned. No one believed it, but it let the peaceniks in the other cities have an excuse to avoid going to war.
"Glittering palace city victim of pirate attack" is less difficult to believe than "High tax city stages attacks to create cover for piracy", at least among ordinary folks who don't want to march off to battle. We're not talking about an era of mass media and investigative journalism here. The Armada were keen to maintain their image of dread, and fakery was a particular skill of theirs.
We entered through gateway arches that looked like they had last been fully intact in the days of Andraste, and into the main palatial district that ran the length of the seashore from the estuary of the Alba to the port of Hercinia in a small cove to the north. The city itself was a sort of curve shape, fitted against the sea.
The palaces rose up around us, the streets turning to large intervening plazas, which had empty stalls all around them and probably constituted the main commercial district. They had no windows on the first two floors, but opened up to large windows of the sort you'd see in Buckingham Palace in London, paned with glass from Serault in Orlais if I was any judge. Clearly more recent additions.
One palace had been turned into a mixed shopping mall and living complex, a list of stores three storeys high painted in bright white down the side of the building, including what floor they were on.
How modern, I thought, even as I noticed it was likely an ancient building, like turning an Egyptian temple into renovated condos.
Another thing I noticed was that the doors to the palaces were all flung wide open, though there were guards in each that we passed. The same sort of Norman-type knight set-up, pointed knightly helmets, decent sized spears, longswords, kite-shields that extended past the knee. Clearly not all the raiders had thought riding out against us was a good idea. Looked like an opportunity, and I almost casually wanted to take it.
"Asala, break off a company at each palace," I commanded by radio, "Surround them, then sweep and clear. Bring anyone hiding in them to me at the main palace."
"By your order," came the stern reply.
I leaned around in the saddle to see a group of gun-toting Avvars turn sharply from the rear of the column directly into the first palace we had passed about two hundred yards back. The men guarding it didn't resist, but didn't disarm either, just arguing with their spears pointed up and their swords still in scabbards.
"They're going to surrender," Tam rumbled with a smile from beside me, with no small note of satisfaction, "They learned from Kirkwall."
The nobles of Kirkwall were a great deal better connected than most of the robber barons of Hercinia, and we had hung their corpses from the Gallows. Though that had been done as much out of my own desire to see those who had betrayed me punished, it had the correct effect on those who might have otherwise resisted us too.
"How many will take the deal, do you think?" Julie asked, possibly rhetorically. I couldn't see her face to see if she was actually asking.
"Most," I replied.
We rode on.
Our arrival at the largest palace, the Domus Aurea, was simply a matter of going through the open gates. Formerly the residence of the Tevinter governor of the city, it was used as half-parliament, half-party house by the robber barons. It was the toothless Viscount's residence and a place of truce, where the powerful could meet without bloodshed.
The truce was upheld by the Chantry and Templars in normal circumstances, but seems to have survived the descent of the Chantry and Templars from grace.
Despite its name, the palace had long been stripped of any gold trimmings, probably as long ago as the original fall of the city to Andraste's forces. Despite that, it was as well maintained as any palace in Orlais, and unlike the rest of them, it was sheathed in gleaming white marble.
The tricolour was already flying over the main gate, which opened up into extensive and well-kept gardens.
Every imaginable type of flower in every colour were arranged there, in a botanical expression I wouldn't have expected from the likes of Hercinia's leaders, even for the sake of appearances. It smelled amazing too, like there was incense in the air, except it didn't make your eyes water or force a cough from your throat.
Well, except for Julie, she sneezed twice as we rode through the archway. Pregnancy made her hayfever-y, strangely. The joys of hormones.
In the central space of the gardens, large enough for a considerable assembly, was a Greco-Roman style hemicycle theatre, though I believe it was the elves who pioneered the architecture on Thedas... Tevinter stole a lot from the elves.
Either way, it was familiar to me, except every surface was covered in enamelled tiles of light red. The place doubled as a pool, apparently, or could have been once upon a time.
If you haven't seen it yourself, it is similar in scale and design to the hemicycle of the National Assembly today, albeit without the tiles.
We dismounted and had a drink of water; it was hot as hell, even worse than it had been during the battle. I was suddenly glad to be away from the battlefield, I'm sure the smell at Gibraltar would've been of sweet and rotting corpses, not to be compared with the sweet and fresh scents of flowers of the palace garden.
Most of the High Command was there already, heavy-lidded from boredom and fatigue, a cluster of green and blue uniforms punctuated only by the turquoise beret of the UN that sat on Soprano's head and their masks. The entire High Command were wearing masks of varying sorts.
The Marines had brought in an eluvian which was tucked away in a back corner of the stage of the theatre, the blue glow telling me that it was still active.
The political leadership, such as it was, was also there. Velarana and Leha were discussing something to one side, the younger female Fishers were watching the locals alongside the male Admiral Fisher.
Speaking of the locals, they had filled out the seats of the theatre, Marine guards standing in front of the first row and behind the top, crossbows and cutlasses held at ease but ready to use.
The nobles of Hercinia were dressed pretty much exactly as you'd expect Marcher nobles to be dressed like. There was no coordination of colour or style like you would find in Orlais, but there was finery nonetheless. Lots of ceremonial armour, though no ceremonial swords. Silks in blue and shimmering white. Some of them even managed to find Orlesian masks to wear.
The entire crowd perked up as they noticed my arrival, tracking my movement as I walked down the steps of the theatre through the local nobles without a care in the world. They could've jumped me at that moment and done harm, but I had decided I needed to project absolute confidence.
I had just totally destroyed a Qunari army in the field, the first time that had happened essentially ever. As expected, no one made a move.
I went down to the stage, joined my officers and the other leaders of Troy.
"Any clue when the others are arriving?" I asked Mariette, the person who would know. She stared back at me through her harlequin mask for a moment before answering.
"They are being assembled in the Crossroads and will arrive through the mirror momentarily," she replied, "Word of your victory has spread to our allies quickly, it seems."
"Of course it has," Julie answered from behind, "I assured that."
The two exchanged a glance. "Well, we could've used a few more days before our enemies found out," Mariette replied flatly, "If they thought the Qunari had us tied up, they would've been easier to deal with. Ravens fly slower than a runner can move through an eluvian, and I do not trust Briala's people to maintain security of any information we give her."
A small bit of anti-elvhen prejudice there, but not entirely unwarranted. It wasn't inconceivable that some Orlesian noble had spies in the ranks of Briala's elvhen guerrillas, though it was equally as likely there were spies in Jader or the ranks of the Free Orlesian Army under Lord Clouet and General Le Carré.
"A few days would not profit us much," Tam intervened, crossing her arms, "Bolstering our allies' morale rather than leaving them in doubt is just as useful, as is seeding doubt in the minds of our enemies as fast as possible."
Mariette said nothing in reply, simply falling in with our circle to wait.
"How have the locals been?" I asked, "Any trouble at all?"
"Quiet," Mariette sighed, "In fact, they've been utterly silent. Not a question or complaint about their palaces, their gold, their liberty."
My lip curled. I was not happy to hear that. Many of these people were former raiders and pirates or the children of raiders and pirates. I expected veiled threats of bloody murder. Like Ianto.
"That's suspicious," I thought aloud.
Julie smiled at me. "We hung the nobles of Kirkwall from the walls of the Gallows," she said, half-laughing, "They're afraid of getting the same."
Very true.
"Ah, good point," I replied.
"You should reassure them," Tam said, "They surrendered after all."
"After sending their cavalry to help the Qunari," Julie disagreed, "Some examples need to be made."
"Agreed," Mariette said, "Fighting against us should be punished."
"There are other ways to make examples," I said flatly, "Humiliation comes in many forms."
There was a commotion at the eluvian, as a large group began making its way through.
First came Briala, Lord Clouet, and Le Carré; the guerrilla, the Viceroy and the General; the triumvirate of elf, lord and commoner that led Free Orlais now that we had founded Troy. They were dressed in comfortable hunting style outfits, though Lord Clouet had his mask on.
"Lord Clouet," I grunted, "I wonder what he makes of all this."
"He'll want us to commit forces to Orlais," Mariette replied, "He grows impatient with waiting in Jader, receiving no income. Celene is destroying his reputation at court too, something about him abusing his niece. Not sure if it's true yet."
"Aristos," Julie muttered with utmost disdain.
To my surprise, Ciara and Armen came through after the Tevinter delegation, dressed in plain Army uniform with no adornments at all. I had given them time off to recover, but apparently they wanted to see what was happening. As they approached, my face must've given away how I felt about that.
"Time to see what the fighting has bought us," Armen proclaimed, as both elves joined the group.
"If you insist."
The Kirkwall delegation came through next, Governor Vallen, Varric Tethras representing the Merchant's Guild, and a brace of bureaucrats. I waved, glad to see them arrive. I wanted them to see this. To see that their situation was not as bad as it could've been. And to scare the shit out of them.
"That dwarf is exposing his chest," Ciara said disapprovingly, "It's hairy." How scandalous.
"It is hot out," I replied with a grimace, "I'm sorely tempted to take off my shirt entirely."
Tam warned me with her eyes to not do that, even though it was no strange thing for a Qunari to do so. She was thinking politically I realised.
"Afraid you won't be able to resist?" Julie joked at our she-elf companion. Ciara shook her head in exasperation.
"Not your type?" Mariette said to Ciara, "Not mine either. Too short."
Woe is Varric, for the harlequin has condemned him! Not.
"You should read his books," Julie shrugged, "Might change your mind then."
After that came the Tevinters; Aurelia, Marcus, Quintus, their father Valentine, and their grandfather, the senior Tiberius. All in traditional Vint mage robes, with lots of black. The only reason they weren't dying of the heat was an ice spell, probably.
Escorting them were a dozen legionnaires, one carrying the dragon banner of Tevinter and a new sigil; a black eagle on a white field, the corners coloured alternatively in blue and red in a diagonal slice. Like a Napoleonic banner, sort of.
"The Vints are absolutely tickled," Mariette said to no one in particular, "Taking a Qunari army off the board will greatly relieve them in Seheron during the winter campaign. The new Arishok, whoever that might be, will need to send reinforcements to Kont-aar. Seheron might actually be peaceful for a year."
"That's what I'm counting on," I replied. My plans had grown very ambitious indeed, and it was time for my Tevinter in-laws to earn their keep in a more appropriate way.
Leha came up, a scroll in hand.
"That's everyone," she said, "Mind getting on with this? I'm going to melt."
I smiled and nodded. "I think we'll go for a swim after this," I said, "Assuming it's safe."
I greeted everyone one-by-one, begging their patience, asking that they watch what was about to happen and to join me for a Council of State afterwards. The locals looked on in increasing fear, if I was any judge. The Tevinters in particular were avoided.
What fresh hell was I preparing for them if the magisters were involved?
Once the meet-and-greet was complete, I called upon Mike and handed her the relevant document of the event.
The General, small though she was, began at once to use her impressive voice to project the words that Velarana had prepared for the occasion on my order.
In light of the dangerous insurrections have been cultivated in the city of Hercinia, the aid sought from foreign powers to the utter subversion of his Excellency's government, and the utter destruction of the common peace, the following measures are immediately enacted:
No goods or merchandise whatsoever shall be brought from or transported to any realm or territory hostile to the Trojan Republic or its allies. The sentence for violation shall be death by firing squad.
For the suppression of riots and civil unrest, all disturbers of the public peace shall be arrested and transported to Troy for trial.
For better regulating the government of Hercinia, the present Viscountcy and council is hereby immediately disbanded. The territory and city of Hercinia are as of this day annexed, to be reorganised as a province of the Trojan Republic and placed in the hands of a military governor.
Citizenship of the Republic shall only be extended on the same terms as any other person seeking naturalisation.
The significant property of members of the Hercinian nobility and elite are hereby expropriated as war indemnities, including all real estate, movable assets and currency.
The freed slaves of the Tiberian estates of the Tevinter Imperium are citizens of the Trojan Republic under the protection of his Excellency, and hereby shall be settled in due course throughout the city. The punishment for murder, rape, arson or burglary against any such settler shall be death by firing squad.
Officers of the Trojan Army and Navy are hereby authorised to quarter troops, marines and sailors among the citizenry.
The Military Governor shall be dispatched at once with two regiments of gendarmes to compel compliance will all these measures.
On behalf of his Excellency, Samuel Hunt, Commanding-General of the Trojan Republic, on this 22nd day of Ferventis in the 40th Year of the Dragon Age
As you can see, I wasn't using the title of Emperor.
Mike rolled up the document and handed it back to me, a glint of satisfaction in her eyes. I held it above my head and stepped forward, showing it to the locals. They looked on with a certain horror, given that I had stripped them of all power and wealth they had in the city.
"Hercinia is no more an independent realm," I declared, "I give you three choices."
I threw down the document and held up a finger.
"You can choose to leave for Estwatch with the clothes on your back, and hopefully you'll be wise enough to call it even. I'm sure you've got money stashed there. This is the option for those that want to put their mistakes and any involvement with us behind them."
Two fingers.
"I also offer you a chance to do what many others in the Armada have already done; raid the Qunari supply and trade convoys. I will issue letters of marque to you in the name of Troy, making you privateers of the Trojan Navy and protecting you from punishment as pirates if you are caught. This is the option for the smart ones among you. We are going to win this war, and by doing this, you'll put yourself on the winning side. The first five that sign up will get half their wealth back too."
Three fingers.
"The other option, for those that resist or those that backstab us after taking the other options, is Kirkwall's Quarter."
In other words, their corpses would be hung from the walls at every gate and in gibbets at every pier. Every one of them knew what I meant by 'Kirkwall's Quarter' too.
I was now so far away from the principles I was supposed to defend, I might as well have been on yet another world. Yet the necessity of all of it was so present in my mind, and the fact I did not immediately wipe them out was comfort enough that I was doing the best I could. The middle path is not always the most wise, of course.
Time for some drama.
"Lachlan Poole, stand up!" I commanded, "Now!"
A man in armour stood up to my far right, bloodied and dirty, disarmed and distraught. This had been the leader of the Hercinian cavalry, who had eventually retreated to the swamp after the first half of his force had broken and the Marines landed to block his escape. The Marines had pulled him out of the mire and threw him in an enclosure for the night with the other Hercinian prisoners.
Ironically, Mr. Poole did not in fact make most of his money from piracy or raiding. He had several impressively endowed trading interests, tied up in a company registered in Antiva. He was one of the richest men alive, yet he chose to spend his days sailing off the Cape of Rivain or on horseback, raiding traders and merchantmen.
I wonder even today if he did it for sport, as is often claimed, or if he was actively targeting his competition, as I would have suspected. Either way, he was wealthy and not afraid to kill, which ironically made him an even more dangerous potential enemy than Ianto had been.
If I could sway him, it was good news. If I couldn't... Well, he wasn't the Viscount, but it was easy to see that Hercinia's 'official' troops had not been deployed. Guess who was ultimately responsible if not the titular leader?
The Viscount was safely in our care, by the way, a mere puppet to the robber-barons. Though he was no longer Viscount, obviously.
"I'm Poole," he said sullenly, clearly not used to being on this end of a prisoner treatment, "What can I do for you, Your Excellency?"
"I'd like you to accept my offer," I replied, "You probably have the most ships out of anyone here, possibly more than anyone else in the Armada, save for one. I understand Admiral Isabela has overtaken you in ships, and soon perhaps in coin."
I gestured for Admiral Fisher to approach, which he did, joining me side-by-side as we squared with Poole. The Admiral unfurled a present from Isabela and Hawke; a pirate flag; a black field with a white skeleton clutching a red heart and a blue spear.
"Hoist the black for Troy," I demanded, "Take our letter of marque, sail against the Qun. Think of all this as an opportunity rather than a defeat. And remember my words: The first five to take this offer will get half their wealth back. You can be the very first to avail of our generosity in victory."
Fisher folded the flag, and offered it to Poole.
The man looked aghast for the briefest moment, and I knew he would not accept. How he did so made no difference, though he summoned all the arrogance and steel of his class. It curled his face, turning it red, and filled eyes, narrowing them to slits.
"I want nothing from you, and I will not work for you," Poole growled, "I am no one's vassal or thrall. I will go to Estwatch and live my life, free of your commands."
I clicked my tongue.
"That is unfortunate," I said, "You see, the problem with that is that someone must be held responsible for what Hercinia has done. Namely, siding with the Qunari and declaring war. You were not the only person to make the decision, but I'm willing to bet my entire fortune that you were the loudest voice in favour of cooperation with the Arishok."
"My spies can confirm as much," Mariette stated at top volume, "And his servants are already in our custody."
Which is why we pay Mariette to run the OSS; always thinking ahead, that one.
"Troy will have justice, Lachlan Poole!" I shouted, "I hereby place you under arrest for crimes against peace, conspiracy to commit war crimes and conspiracy to commit crimes against humanity. You will be remanded to a secure location until the war is over, and your assets held in trust by the Republic until such a time as a trial can be concluded."
I could almost feel Julie and Leha's approval at this move, hoping to get their hands on that wealth. Though most of it was tied up outside of our reach, our reach would be expanding rapidly in the months ahead.
"Marines!" Fisher roared, "Seize him!"
Blue-uniformed Marines sprung forward from both the top level of the theatre and directly in front of us, running the steps to Poole's location and grabbing him. The manacles rattled as the man holding them arrived, and slammed shut with a metallic thud when they were put on the prisoner.
He did not resist.
The rest of our prisoners had very interesting reactions. The richest pirates, the 'admirals', all took the privateering deal, perhaps worried they'd be locked up and tried too, or more looking to the fact that they would get to keep half their wealth.
There were six of these, and they fought over who would only be half-robbed. In the end, I just let all six have the deal. I was in a good mood because they had accepted.
I had little doubt they'd plot revenge, and how they'd achieve it would surprise even Mariette in the end, but that's a tale for another day.
The poorer pirates, those who didn't own ships or didn't want to sign on with the richer ones, mostly took the Estwatch option. They valued their freedom, and indeed, a pirate's life was freedom. Of course, it's really freedom to be shot for piracy, but when that wasn't an immediate threat, there were no lords or laws to bow to. Many would eventually sail with Isabela or the other pirate 'admirals' anyway.
The raiders, being cavalrymen not sailors, didn't really have the option to join the fight against the Qunari and wouldn't exactly have a job in Estwatch. Similarly, the mercenaries that had fought for Hercinia weren't loyal to them and had no work in Estwatch either.
I changed the offer for them too; I offered service in the Valo-Kas Company under Shokrakar and the Adaars as the 'good' option. Almost all of them signed up, which more or less doubled the numbers of the mercenary group, but I was confident that the Qunari could keep the others under control.
The remaining nobles chose Estwatch, where almost all of them had contacts or property.
No one took Kirkwall's Quarter, as I intended.
All told, by annexing Hercinia, we had gained a rich city to tax, several million sovereigns worth of coin and who knows how much in valuable property, a place to put the freed Tiberian slaves where they could thrive, a decent sized port, and a secure flank.
It was time to think longer term, beyond surviving the next few weeks. And think long-term, we did.
Today, the Hercinia-Philadelphia urban zone is the largest metropolitan area in the Trojan Republic, home to peoples from all over Thedas and beyond.
The laws of the Republic make citizenship open to anyone in theory, but compulsory military service and the need to speak Orlesian fluently are high barriers to entry. Hercinia was our way around this problem.
It became a place for refugees and opportunity-seekers from everywhere, first and foremost ex-slaves from Tevinter. You don't need to be a citizen to live there, unlike Troy. Its commerce and culture have boomed for decades, the influx of people providing ample labour and brainpower to develop and apply the technologies of Earth. It naturally has a much more seedier and unsafe reputation than Troy does, but has thrived nonetheless, due to no small amount of effort on our part.
If Valhalla is the brain, the mailed fist and the armoured boot of the Republic, then Hercinia is its heart, its stomach, its liver, its stomach... and its gut. The city is the New York or Los Angeles to the Washington DC that is Troy.
We reconvened in Troy itself without our prisoners, using the eluvians to return to the National Assembly building, as headquarters on the Mont de Mars was too small for what I intended. The map table, maps and documents were moved over, however. The Assembly chamber wasn't even half full, but that was good in its own way.
The attendees were the same as before:
The leaders of Troy, civil and military, led by me.
The leaders of Free Orlais, civil and military, led by Briala.
The Tiberii, representing their own interests and those of Tevinter, led by the senior Tiberius.
The leaders of Kirkwall, governmental and commercial, led reluctantly by Aveline Vallen.
If we could've had a representative or two from the Mage Rebellion, I would have arranged it. It would've meant that every Libertarian force on Thedas would be working together, but they were being chased by the Templars all over the continent. Troy was a mad dream to most, which was why were not a place for any but the most ardent mage to flee to.
I ordered that we begin with a summary of goings-on among our enemies, who would still be unaware of our victory. It was to be given by Mariette, at the map.
She started with our immediate surroundings, pointing to the city just over the mountains from Valhalla.
"The civil war in Markham has heated up," she said, "Knowing that we were about to fight the Qunari, the pro-Starkhaven forces in the town have whipped up the townspeople into a zealous frenzy, claiming that we're all blasphemers and apostates. They've laid siege to the university, though the students have repulsed all attempts to storm the facility."
Not surprising, considering the half students were the daughters and second or third sons of nobility. Marcher nobles were superlative marksmen, albeit with bows and not firelances.
"Which explains why the Telmessos are not here," remarked Le Carré.
I crossed my arms, looking up and wondering what had become of the professors. What they might think of Kirkwall.
"Too busy fighting," I agreed, "Or commanding the fight anyway."
Mariette's finger moved southwest to the shore of the Waking Sea.
"Ostwick has been remarkably quiet. They seem far more concerned with the Mage-Templar War than our own conflict all of a sudden, though it is said that a volunteer company under Evelyn Trevelyan is being formed. For what purpose, we have not determined yet. She may ride to join Prince Vael and General Fenris, or she may be moving to join the Chantry in its latest plan... but we'll get to that."
From the shore of the Waking Sea to the great delta of the Minanter River now.
"Wycome is very worried about us," Mariette continued, "They sent a very large contingent to Starkhaven to join Prince Vael's army, ten thousand almost, trusting in the marshlands and canals to defend themselves with a reduced force. This has denuded the city of the most ardent anti-Libertarian elements however. They are vulnerable, particularly as the Qunari fleet appears to be withdrawing."
I nodded, satisfied with the report, and looked to Briala.
"Lady Briala, would you update us on the situation in Orlais?" I asked.
The masked she-elf inclined her head, and rounded the table to the map, being handed a pointer stick by Mariette.
"Jader is secure," Briala began, "Lord Clouet's forces have a firm control of the mountain passes to both the rest of Orlais and Ferelden. Mages from all over Thedas have been pouring in, looking for safe passage to Redcliffe via the Imperial Highway."
She gestured to the sea near Halamshiral.
"We have been helping this along. The Templars are now on the shores looking for boats, presumably to land on the Storm Coast of Ferelden and continue the pursuit of the mages."
The pointer moved to the Dales.
"Fighting in the south has been fierce. Because the Dales south of Lydes and Halamshiral have less developed roads, the fighting has been one of siegecraft and fortification. The Exalted Plains are dotted with forts now. The Emprise, the Emerald Graves and the Hearthlands have been abandoned to banditry..."
"I am sorry to interrupt," asked Tiberius, "Not my place, I know. But, where are the Emerald Graves exactly?"
Briala looked on with a blank stare, like he was an idiot for not knowing. Or perhaps lamenting the ignorance of northerners getting in the way of the full swing of her report. I get the impression Briala liked being in control. I smirked, and waited.
"Most Orlesians know it as the Greatwood," Briala clarified after a minute, pointing to the far south, "Either way, it's now under control of deserters from both Celene and Gaspard's armies, calling themselves the 'Freemen of the Dales'. They've taken up the banner of autonomy for the Eastern Dales and have organised under various leaders depending on what region one could talk about."
"I'm not surprised that some would do that," Julie declared, "Our cause holds sway even in our absence."
"They are more loyal to the cause of peace and coin than liberty or equality," Le Carré stated, "But many were swayed by the successes against the chevaliers, to dream that beating them might be possible again."
Yet another lingering aftermath of our defeat against Gaspard.
Briala moved on to the core of Orlais itself.
"North and east of Val Royeaux, most of the armies guarding against Nevarra have turned and marched on the capital in the name of Gaspard, and Celene's allies march gathered there to repulse them. The war there has been much more fluid, the fields of Ghislain and the farmlands are easier terrain to cross, and there are more roads."
"Overall, the forces of the two would-be monarchs are equal," Briala concluded, "You bloodied Gaspard badly in the south, but you also destroyed Celene's naval advantage and took two of the four major strongpoints for her faction; Jader and Halamshiral."
"She has received the recipe for blackpowder and will probably have grenades by the end of the month, while Gaspard has stopped selling his own on the black market, preferring now to use them for killing Celene's loyalists."
"In short, there will be stalemate for the next year at least, unless there is intervention."
The pointer was handed back, and Briala resumed her previous place alongside the other leaders of Free Orlais. The subtle hint about intervention was not commented on.
"Mariette, what about our major enemies?" I asked, "What of Starkhaven and Antiva?"
No point asking about the Qun; they were up the creek without a paddle.
"Starkhaven's army continues to advance towards Valhalla," Mariette replied, "Slowly but surely. Our potential allies withdraw before him. We still don't know the army's exact location, but the closer it gets, the better an idea we will have."
She held up a small scroll, from a raven. Obviously not from someone who had access to an eluvian.
"This morning I finally heard from a contact in Starkhaven, and I got confirmation on numbers; one hundred thousand march on us, fewer than we had feared. From their route, it appears they intend to take Markham, use it as a supply base, and march through the passes to hit Valhalla directly before the end of summer."
One hundred thousand against our thirty thousand. I felt nothing more than satisfaction with those odds, my insides remaining still and no itch of fear coming over me. Not least because our numbers would grow once our allies joined us.
Maintaining an army that size would be a logistic nightmare for a realm that didn't regularly muster anything like that many soldiers. Orlais did and does, regularly. The last time the Free Marches had done so was the Fourth Blight, three or four centuries before. The only thing to worry about was what made Vael so confident he could beat me even with those numbers.
Ferelden had shown innovation, but Starkhaven didn't have the mages to pull the whole magic-fog trick.
"And Antiva?" I asked.
"Hiring every mercenary out of Rivain they can find, though there aren't many left," Mariette replied, "They had already sent gold to Vael to do the same, or maybe more to bribe Nevarra to hurry up its own armies. It appears that the Antivan princes were the only ones who did not place all their bets on a complete Qunari victory at the Alba."
There was a pause for a moment, as my spymaster considered something, before shaking her head.
"They expected us to win, at great cost perhaps, enough to weaken us for the kill. No need to hire mercenaries otherwise. But they do have their own problem now that we have crushed the Arishok's forces."
Mariette pointed to the cities south of Antiva City itself.
"Rialto, Salle and Bastion, the original cities of Calabria," she stated, "They are … self-assertive at the best of times, kept in check only by fear of Crow assassins and the alliances the Antivan monarchy have forged through excellent diplomacy. When word reaches them of our victory, my agents expect them to send envoys to us for assistance against their suzerain. They want independence from Antiva, as they had before the rise of that kingdom."
Calabria was something like a mix of southern Italy and Greece in terms of its civilisation; Magna Graecia. Peoples famously assertive of their autonomy too.
"Marchers," Louise scoffed with contempt, "Too easy."
I shot her a disapproving look. "No need to chastise people for making mistakes that benefit us," I said, "Or underestimate peoples we know little about."
If the Calabrians were anything like their Earthling counterparts, the word vendetta would be in their cultural vocabulary if not their linguistic one.
"It seems the Calabrians have also hired a mercanary group from Rivain of their own," Mariette said, "The Compañía Real, led by Ali Bahadur Campana. Three thousand light lancers and horse archers, a thousand shield-warriors to storm fortifications... and sixty armoured pachyderms."
Remember that name, boys and girls.
There was some intake of breath around the room from those still somewhere in the pre-blackpowder era of military thinking when that last part came out. Elephants don't like massed gunfire and explosions, and tend to run away from them. Or so I assumed. Either way, a soixante-quinze cannonball would kill them easily.
I was more threatened by the highly mobile and lightly armoured cavalry. We didn't have a large number of machineguns or assault firelances, to say nothing of our ammo supply, so a cavalry ambush at the right time could absolutely devastate part of our army if executed correctly.
"Pachyderms?" Ciara asked.
"Elephants," I replied, before clarifying, "War elephants."
Ciara tilted her head back, air blowing out through her teeth in dismay. "I don't want to kill elephants," she said softly to the ceiling, before Armen gave her a rub on the shoulder. No doubt the worst of the fighting at the Alba was still rattling around both their heads.
"If the Calabrians have hired the Compañía Real, then the elephants are probably going to be on our side," Tam said in reassurance, "Assuming we can support the rebellion of those cities."
"We'll talk about that too," I said, "Tiberius, would you mind giving us the state of affairs in Tevinter?"
My grandfather-in-law grinned, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. A false smile to disarm some of those around us, to ease his presence in their minds. I had seen that smile too many times by now to be convinced.
"With the army of Kont-aar neutralised, the Qunari will have to redeploy forces from Seheron to reinforce their exclave in Rivain," the magister explained, "The Archon was very pleased to hear about your victory. He has named Aurelia a legatus in addition to her rank as governor, and has ordered the invasion of Nevarra with the entire strength of the Western, Central and Eastern legions. Seheron is a pauper's prize compared to the northern borderlands of Nevarra and Starkhaven."
"I don't suppose you'll be taking any slaves during this invasion?" Tethras growled, "Can't let a profitable opportunity like that go to waste."
Couldn't help but agree with the sentiment there, even if it was shit timing.
"My entire dynasty has renounced slavery as part of my granddaughter's dowry," Tiberius smiled back, "But I do not command the entire Tevinter military, only the Western legions. The others will take slaves, undoubtedly."
"I would love nothing more than to show them the error of doing that," Julie added, trying to control the situation, "But one war at a time. There will be a reckoning for Tevinter, some day."
There was general agreement, even from the Tevinter group. The Tiberii family's idea of an united empire did not necessarily mean resurrecting the Tevinter of old or even keeping the Tevinter of the present... a key difference with other Tevinter revanchists. A matter of murderous disagreement with the Venatori in particular.
"Some day is too late for the poor bastards who'll be taken away in chains!" Tethras shouted, "Why not negotiate peace and let the Marchers defend themselves? You've totally destroyed a Qunari army and killed a Maker-damned Arishok in battle! Sebastian will probably shit himself when he hears about that, and his allies are probably already clamouring for him to try talking. There are enough wars going on."
I felt a fiery bile rise up in my throat. The presumption and the wilful lack of awareness of our situation was offensive in the extreme to me. I gripped the map table in front of me so tightly that my fingers would ache when I eventually stopped. Nor was I alone in this feeling. The Kirkwall delegation found itself being glared at by an assortment of the most dangerous people in the Republic.
It was not I or Julie who voiced our discontent, though many soon looked to us to rebuke the man.
It was Tam.
"Master Tethras, I understand why you would think that way," Tam said, seemingly without malice to the inexperienced ear, "But they want us all dead. We defend mage liberty and elvhen equality in a world that hates both, and even more dangerously, we make it work. There is no limit to the lengths our enemies will go to in order to stop that."
Tam leaned in over the table, palms on the map supporting her.
"But there are also no limits to our determination to survive," she said through a wide, canine-filled grimace, "War is absolutely preferable to being executed for apostasy, to being packed into alienages, to being dragged off as slaves. The principles my Julie has laid out, those that Sam and the others have fought for through thick and thin are non-negotiable."
"You have leverage now to prevent all of that!" Tethras retorted, "The Chantry has no armies, the Templars don't have the numbers, and the Free Marches aren't an empire looking to conquer anyone. There is not a realm or ruler in Thedas that will fail to recognise you once they hear of your victory, they all prefer peace to war right now or they're terrified of you."
"If we make peace now, they will forget to be terrified in a couple of years," Julie scoffed, "They'll get their hands on the blackpowder formula from Orlais or the Qunari, they'll adopt new strategies and logistics, they will adapt. And then they'll get brave. We defeat them now or we are rolling the dice later."
In truth, that adaptation was already happening. Lessons had already been learned from the Hafter and would be learned from the Alba. The ambassadors of many realms had already talked with the Fereldans about their experiences. No doubt the survivors from Hercinia at the Alba would be tapped up by spies for information on the fighting, tactics, weapons, etc.
The Qunari would also change their mindset again, even more quickly thanks to their totalitarian society, they could command such a change from the top.
Julie was actually understating the problem; we needed to take resources and push our defence away from Valhalla in order to survive the next few decades. We couldn't do that by diplomacy until we had established ourselves as a force to be reckoned with.
Tethras looked like he was about to continue arguing, when I raised my hand for quiet. It was a pleasant surprise when he kept so.
"Unless the world looks like it is about to end," I said, "There are no terms except immediate and unconditional surrender."
Wish I had phrased that differently in retrospect.
I looked to Governor Vallen, who was red in the face and not because she was wearing full plate armour at the height of summer. I almost hated to put her on the spot like this, she was a good person, but Tethras needed putting in his place.
"Governor, do you have a problem with that policy?" I asked, "You are free to suggest talking to Vael, but..." But we won't agree, left unsaid and hung in the air.
Vallen shifted her weight, chewed her cheek, looked down at the ground and glanced at Tethras, who was looking expectantly at her. The dwarf raised his brow at her, as if to say 'Well?' It took her a full minute to gather herself.
"I agree with every word that the dwarf has said," she said finally, "But I recognise that you are determined to win this war. Kirkwall cannot stand against you. But I would ask something for our cooperation."
That surprised everyone. The sheer … balls on this person. We had cannons aimed at her city from the Gallows. Overwhelming military superiority. They weren't in a position to negotiate. Tethras stepped back, like he wanted nothing to do with this any more.
I straightened up, shocked for a moment.. but laughter bubbled up out of me. Couldn't help myself. I always appreciated this sort of grit. The audacity of it. I shook with the laughs, and had to wipe tears out of my eyes.
"Depends what you ask?" I suggested, "I'm willing to hear you out just because you understood your situation. We're not Vael, we don't intend to rule the Marches or Kirkwall either."
"It might be necessary," Julie chimed in, "But we don't want to."
Oh how proud the Romans would be, seeing us conquer the world in the name of self-defence.
Vallen looked positively relieved that we weren't simply telling her to go to hell, turning back to her regular shade from red.
"After this war, Kirkwall wants nothing more to do with your wars," she said, "Our city is battered and broken, we need to rebuild. If we go along with your plans, in return you won't tax us, you won't appoint our leaders, you will not put soldiers in our streets, and you will give us the Gallows back."
There were limits to how much audacity I liked.
"Sounds like independence in everything but name," I replied immediately, "Why would I agree to that after your nobles betrayed us to a slaving pirate and a Tevinter traitor?"
"Because the people of Kirkwall shouldn't be punished for the crimes of shithead nobles, and we'll be useful," Tethras replied, pitching in again, "We know the Marches better than you do. We know things your spies and allies don't, especially about Vael. He lived in Kirkwall, and I saw the guy almost daily for years. And Fenris too."
"It's a fair point," Mariette said, "We could use information about Fenris in particular. He's said to have... powers."
"But that information is not enough to buy independence after what your leaders did to Sam," Tam said coolly. Again, very shrewd move on her part to turn the insult against me into a diplomatic matter.
My addiction tickled my mind as I was reminded of it, a small spike of anger joining it. Fuck the diplomatic niceties, for a second, I thought.
"Yeah, I'm not forgiving you for that shit so easily," I added harshly, "No one warned us and plenty knew something was up, and not just nobles either. But you probably will be useful. That could buy you a lot, if I was feeling generous."
I turned to Julie. She'd know how to squeeze the Kirkwallers. Her face contorted slightly in thought, which was cute as all hell and calmed me right down, before she clicked her fingers.
"We'll give you ally status, like Free Orlais has and Markham is going to have," she said, "And most of what you want: No taxes except your own, no leaders except your own, no soldiers except your own... We keep the Gallows, but we do not station any part of our Navy in Kirkwall permanently. And we will have no eluvian in our embassy, so we can't just pour troops in from Hightown like we did to Vael."
That would leave us with options if Kirkwall betrayed us, but greatly reduced the chances of Troy dominating the politics of the city or a repeat of what Starkhaven had done to the place. It was a good compromise.
"Will you let us inspect your embassy regularly to make sure there is no eluvian?" Vallen asked hastily. Too hastily to hide that she wanted the deal. Tethras was impassive, just standing with chest out, in full support of his friend. So they both wanted it.
"Of course," I smirked, "How else could you know we were holding up our end of the deal?"
"I would recommend going ahead with the elections we ordered you to have, though," Julie added, "If the nobles rule Kirkwall again, we might get confused about who our friends are."
"They're already arranged," Tethras said, "The city needs leaders, since you murdered them all."
"I left you Vallen and Bran," I replied to the dwarf with a shrug, "Those two are better than the whole swarm of less-than-useless scum I relieved you of."
After that little bout, I called a break.
We all got a cool drink and some food, magically-created ice being a god-send in the summer canicule. Armen showed off a little, creating a solid block the size of a man and shearing off pieces for everyone's cups with little lightning bolts. Nothing like OJ and ice when you feel like you're gonna melt. Almost felt like a cookout when sliced meats and cheese were brought out.
That cheered people up a bit, repaired some frayed nerves. My two elvhen companions weren't the only ones still having the slaughter of the previous days haunting them.
Tethras was no fool, he must have known that, but had felt strongly enough that he thought he had to say something regardless. My disgust at the man dampened down a bit. Cannot fault him for hating slavery.
I thought that perhaps he was scared of us too. Maybe enough so that he even made a decision about his future, that very day, which would eventually bring him to Haven and Skyhold. Or perhaps the Seeker had something on him.
After an hour and a half, we reconvened and the Council of State resumed. Now that we knew what was going on elsewhere, it was time to talk action around the map.
"I see three opportunities," I started.
"First, Prince Vael and Marshal Fenris are moving far from their capital and supply base with a large, unwieldy army."
"Second, Antiva has enough gold to drown us in it, but it has an inferior force to ours and a revolt is brewing."
"Third, Orlais' factions are stalemated, with no attention span left to even deal with Briala's guerrillas."
The magister cleared his throat, begging the floor. I ceded it with a wave to him.
"I do not see why you are including Orlais in this," Tiberius objected, "It is irrelevant."
Admiral Fisher, Lord Clouet and General Le Carré bristled, cursing the magister out in Orlesian. Others muttered under their breath.
"Lord Tiberius," Velarana said loudly, "Trojans are Orlesian."
The above statement being the fundamental conceit of the Trojan identity, albeit a necessary one.
"Yet you have Avvars, Qunari, and soon, thousands of former Tevinter slaves," he said, "Not to mention that you are ruled by a man who is not even from Thedas. You ought to develop an identity free from the geographic origins of your movement, in my opinion. Leave Orlesian problems to the Orlesians. They fought to reject you."
Julie would have agreed, but the electorate had and would continue to differ. I had my own reasons for siding with Velarana though.
"Free Orlais is relevant because if it fails and Jader falls, we lose prestige, a key port, our main shipyards, and a population of able sailors," I said, "We can't afford to lose any single one of those things."
"Well said, Imperator," said Velarana, deliberately using the Tevene-Latin word to make a point.
Tiberius waved it off and smiled, conceding the point. Was he testing us? I began to suspect he was taking our measure on some things, to see if he needed to intervene himself. Again.
"As I was saying... I propose three plans of attack," I continued at last.
"One, we prepare the way for intevention in Orlais. We'll provide explosives and training to Briala's people, and give you full freedom of action to use them. Hit Celene and Gaspard hard."
"At the same time, we'll form a new regiment of firelancers under Le Carré who will fight alongside us in the Marches, and when we're done with Vael and his merry band, they'll go back to Jader and teach everyone else in the Free Orlesian Army."
"Are you not afraid of giving away your secrets?" Briala asked politely, "That perhaps Lord Clouet or myself will turn and use your weapons against you?"
"It's possible," I admitted, "But frankly, I hope that we'll continue to be friends for a long, long time. We'll achieve so much together. We hang together or all hang separately, as a wise man once said."
Briala smiled at that, probably because she felt it was naïve or that I was exaggerating.
"Two, we cripple the enemy coalitions' finances and prevent them sending every assassin in the world after us," I said, "We do that by taking Antiva out of the war. It is the softest target right now, and we're going to hit it hard. We'll send the Third Infantry Division, the Marines and the Navy up the coast straight at them."
I traced our route of attack on the map with the wooden pointer.
"We'll take Wycome in the Minanter delta, divert briefly west up the river to Ansburg to see if they'll surrender, then back east then north to Bastion. The Calabrians should ally with us and revolt at that point, at which point we roll through Salle and Rialto unopposed to attack Antiva directly. Ten thousand infantry and marines, a regiment of lancers, a third of the artillery, and the entire Navy."
"Under whose command?" Soprano asked, clearly expecting it to be her.
"Mine and Fisher's," I replied, "Cities are more likely to surrender if I'm in command, and they might think most of our forces are with me. I don't know a thing about ships and sails, so Fisher will command those. My force will be called the Army of Rialto Bay for this operation."
"Not a lot of cavalry," Louise thought aloud, "Why not put my division in at Bastion and ride up the coast while the Navy shadows us? It would be quicker than infantry."
"We're going to use the eluvian trick again," I said, "You're going to be in reserve, kept absolutely fresh here at Troy until someone needs you. I'd do the same with Isewen except we need scouts badly. Our other forces will also be rotated home to keep them as fresh as possible when there's no big battle looming, but we can work that out later."
"Makes logistics easier, these mirrors," Leha grunted.
"Another reason to remain friendly with Lady Briala," I added, "If it wasn't for her, we wouldn't have them."
A good portion of the Trojan generals inclined their heads in thanks to the woman in question. It's not like Briala or anyone else could've taken the eluvians back, we had changed their 'keys' now and even added extra magical security, but still.
"What is the third attack?" McNulty asked, "Gotta be Markham, right?"
"Right, we relieve the siege of the University of Markham and smash the zealots," I replied, "First and Second Infantry Divisions, including the new Orlesian force under Le Carré, two thirds of the artillery, the rest of Isewen's lancers; twenty thousand soldiers all told."
"When the new regiments finish their training, they'll join in as the Fourth Division, and we'll be up to twenty-five thousand in two months' time."
"This force will be called the Army of the Minanter."
Our weapons' production was outstripping our training of new troops, and with the fall of Hercinia, we had plenty of gold for resources to feed the factories of Mithril. We would even deliver the last of the firelances we had promised the Grey Wardens of Ferelden, though we'd be keeping our blackpowder to ourselves for a while.
"When Markham, the city not the Hospitaller, is liberated, we're going to strike out northwest, try and get Vael to give chase. The objective is to keep him in the field as long as possible, and to kill as many of his troops as possible for as few of ours lost as possible."
After all, Vael had never heard of Fredericksburg or Pickett's Charge, and wasn't as well equipped as the men who had fought those battles.
"Vael's own long supply lines will help us provoke an ill-judged attack; he can't afford to sit around for long, but we can import food by sea and bring it right to our army by eluvian. He will have to try attacking at least once before he can retreat with honour intact."
"Permission to command the Army of the Minanter," Soprano asked with bloodlust in her eyes, "I have ideas on how to confound him."
"Permission granted," I replied, "Mike and McNulty will command First Infantry and Second Infantry divisions respectively. Isewen will command all auxiliary cavalry that we pick up as the Second Cavalry Division, which I understand will be quite a lot."
"Six thousand horse, estimated," Mariette informed the room, "They're spread out all over the Marches though, it'll take time for them to get to us. We've told anyone without a horse to find a strongpoint to fortify and settle down, so Vael can't just send out his own raiders to starve our allies out."
Isewen beamed at me, delighted to be given such a command and effectively a promotion to general-de-division. She was as good a horsewoman as Louise de Villars easily, but often was in the chevalier's shadow, due to rank and not least because she was quiet where Louise was loud. My confidence in her was well deserved though, her lancers were superlative scouts and excellent light shock cavalry.
"Marcus, you're going to be governor of Hercinia," I stated, "You've administered military units, trained to run your family's holdings. Get a council of citizens elected from the newcomers off of your estates, hand the reins to them once you're sure they're ready, and keep things under control. You'll get the gendarmes for the job."
My Tevinter brother-in-law closed his fist in front of his chest and bowed, with Aurelia slapping him playfully on the arm to stop, her knowing well that I found the kowtowing a bit ridiculous.
With our new prize in capable hands, I summarised the plan.
"So, in short, we turn Orlais into a mire for the royalists, we take the coast from Hercinia up to Antiva, and we march into the heart of the Minanter valley to force Vael to make a fatal mistake."
"Perhaps we'll meet you at Starkhaven," Tiberius said, "When I defeat whatever idiot the Pentaghasts send against me with their walking corpses, and you defeat Vael and his lackeys, we should be in a position to create a permanent political settlement on the future of the Marches. Discussions on what that might look like are not premature."
Hint hint, let's divide the spoils now. Angling for Tevinter to get maximum territory out of it, no doubt.
"We'll see how things go," I said gently, "Maybe the Qunari pull a rabbit out of their hat and surprise you, or the Nevarrans have more corpses than you expect."
Tiberius raised an eyebrow at the magic-show phrase, not getting it at all. "Very well."
AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's National Novel Writing Month in the US, and to participate, I'm planning on updating all my 'active' stories this month. I might even do a snapshot first chapter for a Stargate fic I have been thinking about. Got off to a late start anyway, but this was by far the largest chapter I have planned.
In other news, I've decided to speed the timeline to Inquisition up. Unbelievable to think that it will have taken me 80 chapters, five years and change to reach this point. I originally planned to reach the Conclave in like 30 chapters.
So, only five more chapters planned now before we get into Corypheus screwing with the world, and some of them are shortish.
Here are the chapter names: The Shores of Tripoli, Prince Ali, Pater Patria, the League of Ansburg, Eclipse over the Halys.
Yet more news: I am thinking about getting a Discord going, if anyone is interested.
Still more news: I am planning of making an Outlander submod for the upcoming Dragon Age Total War mod for M2TW, either as Free Orlais as Julie begins the revolution or after the founding of Troy, if anyone would be interested in playing that or helping me out in making it. Also check out Dragon Age Total War's discord if you can find it, the mod is looking amazing in its own right.
Lastly, detailed maps of the Battle of the Alba will be up on my DeviantArt in the next few days, I have the same nickname there that I do here.
As always, thanks for reading and please review! If you've made it this far, you're a true fan!