Red Queen

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by Jolie Jaquinta


  Chapter 41

  Dismissal

  The dismemberment of Halphas did not take long. His many souls were magically separated and freed from their conjoined form. Each was trapped in the soul jars of the troops with all the rest of his former subjects. The vanguard of the 9th rejoined the rest of its army, and was the last to leave the demonic realm through the flickering gate.

  The exuberant troops, once back in Irontree, broke ranks and ran about cheering and celebrating. The joy of victory had washed away the exhaustion of the battle. Those citizens who had been able to sleep were now awoken, and joined in the cheering as the soldiers marched up and down the streets of the town.

  Eventually trumpets blew and horns beckoned. Officers shouted orders and all were commanded to present themselves at the parade ground. They streamed from the city, singing, chanting, and beating their feet in elation. Their standards stood ready and each found their unit and formed up in the maniples they started in. The Queen looked out over them from the stage.

  “Soldiers of Romitu!” she shouted, her voice rough with use. They cheered in return. “We have wrought a great victory today. I asked much of you, and you delivered.” Another cheers swelled up. “But before we stand down, let there be an accounting. Generals: count your Captains. Captains, count your Lieutenants. Lieutenants, count your Sergeants. Sergeants, count your troops.”

  She fell silent while there was a stirring and a buzz. Soldiers moved about, shifted position into their formal units. A few ran hither and to, not to be miscounted. There was some commotion and a few magical flashes as soldiers not missed earlier were resurrected from their soul jars. Cries shouted out as each unit reported up to its larger parent its composition, with magical amplification as the groups grew larger.

  All the way up to “All present and accounted for in the 9th army” from General Alessa.

  “All present and accounted for in the 22nd army!” from General Porterhouse.

  And so on, for each of the seven armies.

  “We are Romitu!” shouted Jesca. “We accept no casualties!” The units erupted in cheering. Her voice boomed out again, from forest to town, “We have not only gone where no army has gone before and survived unscathed”, she said. “We have liberated thousands...” she looked to her mages and corrected herself. “Tens of thousands! We have marched into hell, and come marching back with a multitude. Victims freed from their torment. Tormenters, freed from coerced duty. And their leader, a foul monstrosity of warped souls dissolved into its constituent parts, each able to now seek solace and forgiveness.”

  She paced up and down the stage. “This is our accomplishment today. The Republican partisans lie in our prisons. The demon they summoned to marshal their war against us has had his patronage ended. Our war cries have echoed in the depths of the infernal abyss.”

  She held up her hands. “Enjoy the moment. When dismissed, retire to your bunks for some well-deserved rest. But put away your arms and armor in good order. When you wake tomorrow you will have need of them again.” She continued more somberly. “Today will not be declared a national holiday. Our actions of today will not usher in peace for all time. We have gained some respite, but we have not finished things, we have just increased the stakes.”

  The crowd followed her mood and measured her words seriously. “Where our cries have echoed, they have cowered. But when the echoes cease, they shall consider. What we have done once, we can do again. One demon has learned the fatal lesson of underestimating us. Many more have observed, and will resolve themselves not to make the same mistake. It is naïve and hopeful to think that they would all sue for peace with us. From where we stand, our accomplishments of today appear hard won. That we have stretched ourselves to our limits to achieve our dearly won victory. I caution you, though, that we have just earned ourselves harder tasks for tomorrow. We will look back on this and think it easy, compared with what we will next face.”

  “But we are Romitu”, she said, not shouting. “We are no stranger to difficult tasks. We do what is worth doing without flinching, without worry. We do what is right because it is right. If we balked at something because it was hard, we would never achieve anything.”

  “Go to your rest tonight”, she said, raising one hand again. “Sleep from your labor deservedly. Celebrate tomorrow. But report for duty after that. Our work is not done.” She saluted them all.

  A more modest chant of “Romitu!” started amongst the troops. It built up in regularity, but not in volume. Sober and determined faces looked up to her and her standard. Slowly, the chant changed in tone. First from one edge, and then spreading over all seven armies. The same, slow, steady, resolute chorus became “Jesca! Jesca!”

 

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