Derek rode out of the palace compound at sunrise, and although he truly only commanded the remnants of the Duke’s guard—over three hundred trained cavalry and another five hundred soldiers who could at least ride horses—he also had portions of Quinn’s city companies as well as the remnants of Baron Sloan’s company and banner with him.

With well over fifteen hundred men following him into the city’s streets, he had little chance of traveling without notice. Even as he passed through the gate, he could already see some of Baron Monroe’s sentries riding off to spread the word of their passage.

In a long talk with his officers and several of Sloan’s baronets and knights, Derek had revealed his expectation that they might need to fight to get clear of the city, and he had laid out his future plans for as long as he could foresee. The circumstances were unprecedented, and so he ordered the nobles, knights, and militia officers to offer free release to any who weren’t committed to follow him along an uncertain road.

This morning, he had been relieved and satisfied to discover that fewer than fifty men had preferred to stay in the city; after he left, they were free to chose their own path. His path, and the path of those who still followed him, led first to the city’s southern gate, where he knew they would meet their first obstacle.

It was almost a mile to the southern gate, and the ride passed uneventfully. Their passage was also noted by the people who were first to stir—the bakers, the blacksmiths, the servants on their way to the morning markets—and from the second- and third-floor windows of the houses along the thoroughfare the curious members of the city’s wealthier families looked down upon them.

Most were too far away for him to clearly see their expressions, and some undoubtedly were glad to see them go, but since they had some sense of how much worse their situation could get, he had to believe that many were sorry to see them go. So Derek had to work to keep him own face expressionless. He was not used to feeling like a dog fleeing with its tail between his legs, and he had ample time for his anger to grow on the ride to the gate.

As they entered the final plaza and drew more eyes from the custom agents collecting the Duke’s tolls and the farmers driving their wagons into the city, he was not surprised to see a group of Monroe’s men waiting for them near the gate. He was surprised, though, to see Baron Monroe’s own banner at the head of the company, and so he waited until more of his men filed into the plaza.

A small party of riders separated from Monroe’s company and started across the plaza. The Baron himself rode at its head, and Derek decided to meet them halfway with a small number of his own officers. Baron Monroe might be disloyal and overly ambitious, but the man did not lack courage, or his own peculiar sense of honor.

“A good morning to you, Baron,” Derek said. ‘I am surprised to see you here.”

“And to you also, Captain Johanson,” the Baron said. “But you should not be surprised. Your actions have brought me here. I will not try to stop you from leaving the city, but I will ask you to reconsider your decision to do so. You will condemn yourself and all of the men who follow you to death. Why not stay here and continue to serve a valued role as protectors of the city?”

“My men and I are in the Duke’s service.”

“As was I,” Monroe said. “Not happily, I will admit. But I was on the field with him, and we did our part on that day. Now, though, he is dead, and his line with him. Circumstances have changed, and we must seek our own way.”

Derek leaned forward in his saddle. “You know that he legitimized Aidan as his heir. The boy is the rightful duke, and we serve him still.”

Monroe sighed, turning his attention to two of Sloan’s chief baronets. “As I told Baron Sloan, I think that this entire war was a mistake. You saw the strength that the Empire possesses, and how easily the Emperor kills his enemies. And his claim on this land is arguably more legitimate than Cedric’s was. Will you really serve a bastard in a hopeless cause?”

Before Derek could respond, Morven, the elder of the two baronets, nodded and said, “Better our bastard than theirs. Mark my words, Baron: you may be able to reach an accommodation with the Emperor, but if he fails, you will never survive the aftermath.”

“Well,” Monroe said, “perhaps you are correct, but if is the key word there. If, for example, you fail, you will assuredly be forgotten and your families will lose everything. I like my odds better than I like yours.” He pulled his horse aside and motion to the gate. “But you are free to go. You can find your death at another’s hands.”

Derek did not waste breath on a further comment; he merely signaled for his column to advance.

The second obstacle was more significant.

As they exited the city, Derek already could see small parties of the Empire’s light cavalry watching the city from a distance. Their presence meant that the Emperor’s vanguard could not be far behind, and undoubtedly Baron Monroe would not hesitate to share his knowledge of Cedric’s final actions and Derek’s flight with the Emperor.

There would be a pursuit.

#

Marcus was several miles from the city when word reached him that a column of cavalry had left the city and was heading south. He summoned General Gallo for a quick conference, and was awaiting the general’s arrival when another messenger brought word that a smaller band of horsemen had exited from the city’s north gate under a flag of parley.

“The idealists run to fight another day,” he muttered, “while the pragmatists live to negotiate.” For his purposes, the pragmatists were valuable. He nodded at the officer who had carried the message. “Bring them to me. It seems that we will be finalizing the terms of the city’s surrender.”

The general arrived shortly afterward, and Marcus waved for him to come to the table where a small map was spread.

“We have a problem, General. Over a thousand cavalry have exited the city, and since they are heading south, we must assume that they are loyalists.” He pointed to a place on the map, perhaps three days southwest of where they now stood. “The Duke’s family estates are here, and that may be where they are heading. According to Imboden’s reports, the southern territories contain only a few small forts and a few dozen fortified manors, so you should be able to force them to fight you in the open eventually. I want you to take half of the Western Army’s brigades south for detached duty, and if events of the next few minutes unfold as I expect them to, I want you personally to take the command and deal with these diehards.”

By then, the horsemen from the city had been escorted to the top of the hill, and events did indeed unfold favorably. Monroe and his allies had solidified their control over the city, and they were still willing to surrender it in return for the guarantees regarding their holdings and status. Saving the months of wear and tear that a long siege would inflict on an imperial army was alone worth the price of the prize they were offering him. And distributing a handful of Imperial titles and some newly vacated estates within the older provinces to his new allies would likely ensure as much of their loyalty as anything would. During the upcoming winter, he could solidify his own control and focus on the plans for the next step.

“Go, general,” Marcus had then commanded. “All that is left here is talking, and I will have more than enough force remaining to put weight behind my words; I am counting on you to crush the rest of the organized resistance in this province.”

The campaign was going well.

#

In the days that followed, Derek Johanson found himself trapped between two unappealing options. Whoever was following him and his men knew his business well; the Emperor’s cavalry was too numerous for him to win a standing fight, but the pursuers also had enough light cavalry and mounted archers to push Derek harder than was healthy for his horses.

He was exhausting his horses, and many of the weaker ones had been faltering for the past day. His command was smaller by several dozen men than the number it had left the city with, and while a few had deserted during the tense nights, most had fallen in small skirmishes as their horses lost ground and separated them from the main column.

It was a waste of good men, men who could have served well in future battles, but if he did not press on, he would lose all of his men. On the other hand, this pace might render a large number of his horses unsuitable for further riding. There was a small fort less than four miles away, astride the north-south trade road running all the way to the Duchy’s southern border. Linking up with its garrison would give them a greater chance to survive for a few days longer.

He needed to get the remnants of the army to the safest, strongest possible refuge so that he could gain some breathing space to figure out how to salvage something from this disaster. But his future depended upon the stamina of their horses. If they could keep the fatigue and exhaustion of most horses from rendering their mounts useless, then they might reach his intended destination, which would change their circumstances. But several troopers were already lagging behind, and Derek couldn’t slow the pace without losing their slim lead over the pursuit.

“Damn it all,” Derek muttered, spurring his horse from a fast walk to a canter and heading down the back side of the ridge. “I hope that Anthony is still sharp.” Anthony was the captain that the Duke had left in command of the fort. It had been a key part of his long-term plans, but Derek had no way of knowing how the news of Cedric’s death had affected the garrison.

He buried his worry under the sounds of hooves and snorting horses, his eyes squinted against the wind. A spray of lather from his horse’s neck splattered against him. Look upon us with mercy, Creator, he prayed. See how far we have fallen.

And he rode.

Derek was increasingly proud of the men following him; they rode and maintained good order even though seeing any hope for the future must be difficult for them. The mingled pride over their quality and anguish over the deaths of the good men whose horses failed them brought tears to his eyes, tears which were dried by the wind slapping against his face. And if they did not reach the Cedric’s estate ahead of their pursuers, all the sweat and sacrifice would be meaningless.

A mile from the fort, they encountered its outriders, and Derek received the first pleasant surprise in weeks. One of Conrad’s officers was with the patrol, and he related the news that close to five companies, including Conrad’s and Guy’s, had rallied after the battle and retreated to the fort after hearing from stragglers that Baron Monroe had closed the gates of the city.

Anthony himself rode out of the fort as he drew closer to it, and after greeting each other, the two men stepped aside as the rest of Derek’s column rode slowly into the sanctuary of the fort’s bailey.

“I need your help.” Derek kept his voice level and measured, although doing so took effort. “Look at what I have left. I had almost fifteen hundred men three days ago, but I lost several hundred on the ride here. We will need every man we can gather to hold in the south.”

The captain pulled a twig from a pile of leaves and other debris. Dark shadows under his eyes lent his face a sickly cast, and gray-streaked stubble on his chin made him seem older than his years. He sighed. “You always did underestimate the loyalty of the rest of the army, Derek,” he said quietly. “Of course, we will accompany you, but be clear on one point: you have a choice here. And so do I. What happened to Duke Cedric was a terrible thing, and I know you want revenge, but I am not willing to lead these men to certain death. We will fight so long as we have something to fight for, but if the boy isn’t the father’s match, I for one am not going to lead these men to their deaths out of spite.”

“No,” Derek heard himself saying, after a moment’s hesitation. “And I would not ask you to. Trust me in this, though, old friend: the boy will not disappoint you.”

“You believe that he can lead us to victory?”

Derek shrugged. “Perhaps. I am not certain that anyone can salvage this situation. But I do know that he was worthy of service before he went to the Academy, and he has studied there for over three years now. And I’ll not be remembered as someone who didn’t know the meaning of loyalty. I will serve his family so long as it exists.”

Anthony’s face was an expressionless mask. “I hope that you are right about him, because you and everyone who follows you are probably marked for death by the Emperor.”

“I hear what you’re saying.” A fleeting picture of the broken emptiness in the Duchess’ eyes surfaced in his mind. “But I have to try.” Cold resolution seeped through him, and he met Anthony’s flat stare with one of his own. “And I will try. With or without your help.”

After a long, frozen moment, Anthony nodded, once, a slow bob of his head that, to Derek’s surprise, spoke of satisfaction. “Good,” he whispered. “Very good, my friend.” And in Anthony’s eyes, Derek saw anger and loss flowing like a river bursting through a dam. “Because I lost many friends at that battle, and I will be ashamed for the rest of my days every time I have to admit that I was not on the field with you. We have a debt to collect.”

“Yes, we do,” Derek echoed. He glanced back into the clearing, surveying the exhausted cavalry and mounted archers, many of whom suffered from minor wounds, all of whom were hungry and exhausted after the long ride. “Do you have any suggestions on what we should do next?” 

“As it happens, I do,” Anthony said. “Four days ago, when Guy and Conrad started to arrive with the remnants of their companies, I sent half of their men and most of my supplies south to Oakford. Most stayed there, while a smaller number returned with the horses and any additional mounts they could take from Cedric’s herds. We have enough horses to provide fresh mounts for a few hundred of your men. And if we rest your men until the middle of the night, we should be able gain enough distance to prevent your pursuers from forcing us to battle.” He smiled. “You know what is awaiting the Empire in the south. It will take a lot more than a few thousand cavalry to pry us out of there. We’ll be able to hold until you can speak directly with Aidan. After that—” He shrugged—“we’ll see. Did the Duchess escape?”

Derek sighed. “I believe so. I left Quinn and ten men as her guard, and Simon Lezar was escorting her out of the city and to the south. I will send messengers south as soon as we establish ourselves in the fortress.”

“I pray that it is so,” Anthony said. “She might be able to bring her uncle in on our side, and we will need that kind of help to have any hope of winning.”

“That is out of our control, although any lord with sense will now look for allies. This Emperor will not be as easy to ignore as his predecessors were.” Derek sighed. “Let us look to our preparations. We still have hard days of riding ahead of us.”

Anthony commanded one hundred medium cavalry, fifty mounted are, and fifty rangers. Since his men were on the freshest horses, they launched a spoiling attack on the pursuer’s camp that night as the rest of the men slipped out of the fort and onto the southern road. Dawn would see the start of a week-long race.

It was going to be a close one.

#

The news of Duke’s Cedric’s death travelled quickly along several networks of spies. It reached Aidan’s ears sooner than the Empire might have expected it to. Accounts vary a bit about what happened next, but multiple witnesses saw some of what occurred.

Some time after grieving privately in the forest over the news of his father’s death, Aidan returned to the Academy’s training grounds and went to work.

Near the student barracks, Gillian exited the building where the instructors slept and came to Aidan’s side. He approached Aidan, saying only five words: “Switch to a real sword.”

#

Then, Gillian Whiterose travelled immediately to the residence of Queen Maurelle of the Three Rivers.

By the time Gillian entered Maurelle’s residence, he had organized his thoughts regarding his course of action.

“I am sorry about this ill news, my friend,” Maurelle told him, standing and taking his hands in hers. She meant the death of Duke Cedric, a past graduate of the Academy of War and a student of the sword under Gillian’s tutelage for two years, a death at the hands of a Stradagh Archer. The type of enemy, in other words, the Bladedancers were formed and molded to fight. “I need your counsel on another matter: I’m told that before Cedric left the city, he named Aidan as his heir.”

Gillian simply could not speak for a time, and then he made sure of his control before speaking. “I see,” he said. “Well, my counsel is simple enough. Support Aidan. With all of the means at our disposal. We will need allies in the war that will soon be upon us.”

She tilted her head. “I agree,” she said, “but I will need your voice in the Assembly. The pace of events is already making many of the members uncomfortable.”

“You will have it,” Gillian said. His voice was even, although he felt a grief to match his fatigue. “You should know, my next stop is the Academy. I will tell him who we really are and why we are willing to help him.” But he made no move to rise; their conversation was not yet finished.

“Gillian,” she said. That was all, but her tone was reproving. ‘The Assembly has not finished its deliberations about my request.”

He shrugged. “The news will come soon enough from other sources anyway, and our reputation will deflect the suspicion of all but the most thoughtful. Aidan perhaps will have questions once he recovers from the double shock of the previous news. But the Disclosure is rapidly becoming a foregone conclusion. Randolph is steadily piecing together much of what we have hidden, and others will see evidence with their own eyes if our warriors meet theirs, or one of the Archers, on the field.”

“The Assembly may not want you to be delivering the news yourself.”

“No?” He asked. And for the first time, some of his own anger trickled out as a hardness in his voice. “Then I will accept whatever punishment the Assembly decrees for me. I concealed knowledge from his father, which undoubtedly put him at a tactical disadvantage; I will not do the same to the son.”

#

Later that day, Gillian and Aidan talked again in the Academy’s library.

“You have received terrible news,” Gillian observed. “Your father was a friend, and I have my own grieving to do. When you are ready, you should include me in some of your planning conversations. Your father asked me to share certain items with you if anything happened to him, but they can wait for now. First, you and I need to talk about your enemies, and you need to know that you are not alone. My people will support you.”

Aidan nodded slowly. “I am going to war. Your people must know that.”

In his turn, Gillian nodded. “I expected nothing less from you. We are ready.”