The Fall of Erlon

by Robert H Fleming

  The fire started easily enough. She’d stolen matches from the farmhouse and the forest floor was full of dry leaves. Elisa blew on the infant flames like her father had taught her and felt the warmth as her creation grew. She fed it slowly and basked in her accomplishment.

  She could handle herself alone. She could survive, she didn’t need anyone else, not even her family. She would be just fine on her own.

  A crack came through the trees behind her and her thoughts turned to fear.

  Elisa reacted, rising from her seated position into a crouch. She saw nothing but blackness through the trees in the direction of the sound.

  What was out there?

  Maybe lighting the fire had been a mistake.

  Elisa moved around her fire to where her pack leaned against a tree. She drew out one of her pistols. He fingers found the silver engravings on the side as well as the trigger and flintlock.

  She could hear nothing over the crackle of her own fire.

  Her heart pounded in her ears. The dark closed in around her. She was suddenly far less confident in her ability to make this trip alone.

  Elisa moved back away from the firelight. It was more out of instinct than anything. Her mind wasn’t working.

  Maybe it was only a rabbit. Or a bird.

  She prayed for it to be something harmless.

  Elisa backed away and reached a large tree trunk. She moved behind it and looked back towards her camp. The fire cast shadows everywhere and made the dark of the surrounding forest even darker. Elisa could see nothing but the flicker of the flames.

  She waited. There was no other sound for a long time. Her breathing was loud and she tried to control it. Her heart wouldn’t slow and her mind wouldn’t think.

  Movement. Was it just a flicker of a shadow? No. It was more. There was something there.

  Elisa sucked in her breath and held it. A white blur formed from the darkness. It came closer and its edges formed into a person. Elisa shifted farther behind her tree but kept her eyes on the figure.

  The blur stumbled into the full firelight. A large man, gray hair, out of breath from carrying a heavy pack.

  Montholon the farmer.

  Elisa let out her breath. It must’ve been loud, because Mon looked directly towards her position.

  “Elisa!” he called out.

  She stood and moved towards him. He saw her and let out a sigh of his own. A sigh of relief.

  “I could’ve shot you.” Elisa’s fingers still hadn’t left her father’s silver seal.

  “That would’ve been unfortunate.” Mon had a smile on his face as he let the pack down off his back. “Nice fire. A bit dangerous this close to the city, but it’s warm.”

  Mon didn’t move to douse the flames. Elisa stepped into the camp circle. “I don’t want to go back to the farm.” Elisa crossed her arms across her chest, holding the pistol upright against a shoulder.

  “I’m not here to take you back.”

  Elisa blinked. That wasn’t the answer she was expecting.

  “You’ve made your choice. And I’ll go with you,” Mon said. “Although I don’t know where you think you’re going.” Mon reached into his pack and pulled out a bottle of wine. He crouched down and sat with his back against a tree, facing Elisa.

  “Where are Gabriel and the other hands?” Elisa sat down opposite Mon and stared at his outline over the fire.

  “Back at the farm,” Mon said.

  Elisa looked at him and saw the hint of sadness in his eyes from over the fire. She understood. She’d forced Mon to abandon his home. The farmhands had stayed to protect a farm against an enemy that was notorious for being unkind occupiers.

  She swallowed her sadness and pushed it deep inside of her. She was a Lannes of Erlon; she didn’t have time for girlish feelings about a farmhand who smiled at her a few times. She couldn’t be slowed down by such things now.

  But the feelings were hard to keep down.

  Elisa dwelt about Gabriel and the farmhands alone on the farm and surrounded by the Horde now. She didn’t know what would happen to them. But now she felt even more alone than before Mon had arrived.

  * * *

  Mon hadn’t talked much more after Elisa’s question about the farmhands and the farm. He’d drunk his wine and fallen asleep. Elisa had tried to sleep as well but had found it difficult, and when it finally came, it was fitful at best.

  “Where do you propose we go?”

  It was now the next morning and they were packing things up. Elisa rolled her sleeping bag up as tight as she could before stuffing it into her bag. The fire was still sending wisps of smoke towards the tops of the trees.

  “North.” Mon’s voice was gruff. More like a grunt than any normal language.

  Elisa reached up and attempted to rub the sleep from both her eyes. She’d gotten her tears out in the long hours of the night before. Now it was time to focus on running to safety. “That was my direction, but where in the north? Where do we go?”

  “We’ll figure that out when we get there.”

  That wasn’t a reassuring answer, but Elisa finished packing up her things and kept quiet. Mon led them into the trees towards the northern hills. Elisa did her best to keep up with his quick pace.

  The farmer was dressed in gear she’d never seen before. It was an old jacket that had seen a lot of use. It was well lined and looked warm. It had buttoned pockets on the front and sides. His pack was the same kind issued to the military that Elisa had seen on the soldiers of her father’s guard.

  And he had a musket.

  The weapon was long and freshly polished. A sparkling bayonet jutted from the top as Mon rested the barrel on his shoulder while walking.

  Elisa only quietly observed for most of the morning until she couldn’t keep the question inside any longer.

  “Where’d you get your musket?”

  The old man didn’t respond. He kept walking at a brisk pace.

  “Your musket,” Elisa repeated. “Where’d you get it? I never saw it around the farm.”

  “It was in the attic.”

  “Was it yours? Did you fight in my father’s wars?”

  Elisa knew the answer to her question even if Mon wouldn’t say it out loud.

  “You did. Which campaign, though?” Elisa was thinking out loud. She filled the silence from Mon with thoughts of her own. “Were you at Ice Fields? Maybe you fought earlier. Were you at Riom? Were you a general? A marshal, even? No, you’d have a silver pistol.”

  Elisa touched the two pistols on her own belt. She thought she saw the faintest of twitches in Mon’s shoulder as he walked.

  Her eyes locked on his shoulders.

  On both jacket shoulders there were scars where old patches had been ripped off. In the Erlonian army, the stripes for rank went on the shoulder.

  And the shadows of the removed patches covered most of Mon’s shoulder.

  An officer? That didn’t make sense. Mon drank too much to survive as an officer in her father’s military.

  The silence hung between them for a long while. Elisa’s mind raced with the possibilities of Mon’s history as they hiked.

  They stopped for a quick bite to eat around midday. Mon stood against a tree and looked at the ground.

  “You knew my father too, you were close even.” Elisa stared at the farmer. She’d never thought to ask about his past because she thought it was only farming. Now the reasons why she’d been sent from the palace to hide on Mon’s farm made more sense. “You wouldn’t have come to get me in the city if you didn’t know him. He told you to take me into hiding, didn’t he?”

  “Don’t talk so loud, we’re still close enough to the city to run into Kurakin scouts. Scythes, even.”

  Elisa wanted to ask more, but the mention of the Horde stopped her. Mon straightened up from the tree and picked his musket back up. He resumed the hike without another word.

  They walked on without conversation for the rest of the afternoon and Elisa allowed her thoughts to
run wild with Mon’s past.

  She’d find out more about him. She’d discover his history with her father and the imperial army.

  Despite what she’d told herself the night before, about being confident being alone and trekking north by herself, she was glad to have Mon’s company.

  He wasn’t the best conversationalist, but he would do as a guide. Elisa’s mouth turned into a smile and she lengthened her strides to keep up with Mon’s pace. They hiked through the forest towards the wide-open north and moved away from the dangers of Plancenoit.

  Andrei

  The search around the farm took the rest of the morning. Nothing was found and Andrei confirmed the farm was abandoned. The girl was gone.

  His hawk came back and rested in a pine tree nearby. She hadn’t seen anything of the girl, either. The forest was too thick north of the farm.

  Andrei walked alone towards the open doors of the barn and thought through their next steps. His men were completing a sweep around the western side of the farm, some in the corn fields, others going through the store houses and the woods.

  “Already given up the search?”

  Andrei drew his pistol and knife at the same time and leveled the gun at the source of the voice. It was a man sitting on a bale of hay. His legs were crossed underneath his body in the style of the Lakmians.

  “Who are you?” Andrei kept his gun on the man but returned his knife to its holster. The Lakmian’s posture wasn’t threatening.

  “A sibling of your own general’s guide,” the Lakmian said. He rolled off the hay bale and dropped to Andrei’s level.

  Andrei got a full look at the man and confirmed he was Lakmian. A tail swung between his legs. His skin was tan and smooth and his hair was a bright blond.

  “Sibling? That’s a strong word.” This was a new voice, but it was more familiar to Andrei. He’d been expecting this vision to show up.

  “Is it incorrect?” The Lakmian turned to face the new apparition to Andrei’s right. He didn’t seem surprised at the appearance either.

  Andrei would recognize Duroc’s god voice anywhere. It sent a chill up his spine every time.

  “In a sense, no.” The god stepped closer to the Lakmian.

  His dark hair hung back in waves from his head. The pointed teeth could be seen clearly when he talked behind his clean-shaven face.

  “You’re playing into his hand, Brother,” the Lakmian said. Andrei still had a pistol pointed at him.

  “Where is she? Where are you leading her?” The Kurakin god took another step forward.

  Andrei stayed still. His gun arm was steady.

  “You’ll find her,” the Lakmian said. “You’ve got the best on it, don’t you?” He gave a smile in Andrei’s direction.

  The Kurakin god didn’t respond. Andrei watched as the Lakmian faded away as if he was smoke from a campfire. Before Andrei could even think to fire his pistol, the vision was gone.

  “Come.” The Kurakin god beckoned Andrei to follow him. He didn’t seem concerned that the Lakmian vision had gotten away. He acted as if all that was happening was part of a normal day.

  Andrei holstered his pistol and followed the god out the door. They walked across the farm’s front yard to the house and entered the wreckage of the front room. The god stood over one of the bodies.

  Andrei’s mind was numb and thoughtless. He was used to the Kurakin god appearing around Duroc. It’d been happening since before the war. But the Lakmian appearance was something new entirely.

  The god lifted his eyes from the body and nodded at Andrei. “North. As you suspected. She’ll have one man with her, you should be able to track them easily. Follow the eastern road from this plot and then cut north.”

  Andrei stared at the god. What had just happened? Andrei looked down at the dead boy on the ground and back up at the god. How had he discovered that from a dead body?

  Andrei knew better than to ask questions. He only nodded and turned to gather his men.

  “Scythe.”

  Andrei stopped and turned back to face the god.

  “I must have her alive. She’s very important.”

  The god faded away to smoke before Andrei could respond. Andrei took his first breath in what felt like forever.

  “Gods.” He shook his head. They had work to do; he couldn’t spend time questioning orders from a higher being or wondering what that Lakmian vision was. Andrei turned and walked out the door to begin readying his men.

  Elisa

  The crack of the musket ripped through the silence of morning. Elisa’s view was blurred by smoke and she lost sight of the target. When everything cleared and the woods went back to quiet, the deer was gone.

  “Did you miss?” Mon scanned the forest from beside her.

  “No,” she said.

  Mon pushed up to a kneeling position and looked off through the trees. Elisa checked the sights on the old musket. She was positive she’d hit the deer.

  “Grab your things,” Mon said. “We’ll look for blood, but we won’t linger.”

  Elisa noticed Mon made frequent glances south in a nervous manner. He seemed to expect the Kurakin army to burst through the brush at any moment.

  Mon had pushed them hard the previous day and Elisa’s legs were tired. The farmer had taken the watch at night. Elisa was at least thankful for that. But this morning he’d roused her early and told her a deer was walking through the creek bed nearby.

  Elisa had smelled the wine on the man’s breath, but his speech was steady. She’d rubbed her eyes and brought her mind fully awake and they’d walked to the creek. Elisa had insisted on taking the shot.

  “You sure you hit him?” Mon pulled himself to his feet.

  “Yes.”

  “Your father teach you to shoot?”

  “Yes. And others.”

  “Let me guess, Junot?”

  “Yes.” How did Mon know that?

  “I see.” Mon shook his head while scavenging the ground for tracks or blood.

  “What? You don’t approve of him?”

  “He’s reserve. A home guard.” Mon almost spat the words.

  They reached the spot where the deer had been standing and began looking for drops of blood. Elisa made a wide circle to the west. “What’s wrong with a home guard?”

  “They don’t fight.” Mon moved east at a slow walk with his head down.

  “They’re fighting now.”

  “As a last line. And I think they’ve already been overrun.”

  Elisa felt a pang of sadness for her old home. Mon was correct. Plancenoit was now ruled by the Horde.

  “I say we move on.” Mon turned back and looked at her. “We’ve got plenty of food.”

  “Spread a little wider. I hit him.” Elisa walked out farther and kept her head down on the brush at her feet. They would find the blood. She didn’t miss. Mon did the same in the opposite direction and they were soon out of sight of each other.

  The breeze that had been dead all morning suddenly woke up around her and she felt a crawling sensation up the top of her spine. Elisa recognized the feeling.

  “Hello.” Elisa turned around and saw a surprised look on the Lakmian vision’s face.

  “I was trying not to startle you,” he said.

  “You didn’t.” Elisa took a step towards the guide. “I thought you’d already abandoned me.”

  “No. Just waiting for you to follow my advice.”

  “To flee north.”

  “Yes. And just in time, too. The Horde has already attacked your old home.”

  Elisa knew better than to ask about Gabriel and the other farmhands. She didn’t want the answer spoken out loud anyway. “Where do we go from here, then?”

  “North.”

  An exasperated noise escaped Elisa’s mouth. “You and Mon are the same. Vague guidance and nothing more.”

  Elisa’s frustration with this vision was getting dangerously close to becoming distrust. What did she know about this Lakmian? Why should she tru
st him?

  Her mother’s advice about visions came back to her once again.

  “Your path will appear soon, we must be patient.” The Lakmian stood rigid and still.

  “Are you saying you don’t know my path yet?”

  “Not completely.” The guide shrugged. His tail flicked lazily behind him. “There are other powers at play here, powers that haven’t revealed themselves.”

  Mon’s call interrupted Elisa before she could ask another question. “Elisa!”

  “Here!” Elisa yelled back.

  “I found blood!”

  “Oh, good,” Elisa said.

  “You must go.” The Lakmian nodded at her. “I will return soon. Fly north as fast as you can.”

  Elisa made to move back towards Mon but stopped and turned to the god again. “What do I call you? What is your name?”

  The god stared at her for a second. “I have no name in this world. I’m only a guide for you.”

  “A guide?”

  “Yes,” the guide said. “Hurry north. You have dangerous enemies chasing you, Princess. And I know your father and mother would hate to lose you now, after all that’s been done to protect you.”

  The guide faded away and his shadow was carried off on a breeze through the trees.

  Elisa sighed and moved towards Mon to help track down the deer from the trail of blood it’d left behind.

  Chapter 5

  In stark contrast to the stern military mastermind that conquered the Continent, Lannes was a doting father to his only child, Princess Elisa.

  Tome of the Emperor

  Nelson Wellesley

  Nelson

  King Nelson found Emperor Lannes standing on the second level of the western wall of Taul Fortress. The emperor braced against the howling wind and his cloak whipped around him as he stared out over the sea towards the horizon.

  Nelson stopped on the wall walkway below and watched Lannes.

  Nelson’s lower position was shielded from the elements by the high wall built into the rocky cliffs of the island, making it almost comfortable and quiet to be outside for once. The wind was only a low whistle above his head, while the sun beat down to warm the top of his shoulders.