The very last soldier in line wore a general’s jacket. He shook Lauriston’s hand and welcomed the marshal back to the army.
“And you haven’t had a chance to greet the princess yet, have you?” Lauriston said after handing the general his meal.
The general smiled at her and bowed. “No, I haven’t. Good morning, Princess.”
“Elisa, this is General Murat. He led the army while I was gone.”
Elisa curtsied again and handed the man his bread.
“Glad you made it to us alive and unhurt, Princess.”
“Thank you, General. I had good protectors. Thank you for saving us yesterday.”
“That wasn’t me,” the general said with a smile. “I was way back here at camp doing nothing important. My cavalry is to thank for finding you and arriving right on time.”
“They certainly were timely,” Lauriston said. “We weren’t going to make it without them, I’m afraid.”
“Well, you made it, and that’s all that matters now.” The general smiled at both of them, but his eyes settled back on Elisa. “Thank you for serving the men, Elisa. It means a lot to them to see you out here.”
“Of course, General.”
Murat bowed again and left them to go eat with his men. Lauriston hefted his almost empty pot of stew up and hauled it back towards the cooks. Elisa made to follow him.
“We can clean, Elisa. You’ve helped enough.”
“I’m happy to help,” Elisa said. She didn’t think it would be right to stop assisting before the pots were clean.
“Thank you, serving the food was enough for you. The cooks can handle the cleaning.” The marshal set the pot down and the cooks bowed to Elisa. Lauriston turned and pointed over Elisa’s shoulder. “You’ve earned some rest. Don’t push yourself too hard, we’ve only just arrived. How about going and relaxing with Mon this morning?”
Elisa followed Lauriston’s point and saw Mon talking with some soldiers in a circle. The soldiers looked to be in the process of saying goodbye to the older general.
“We’ll have a meeting later on with the officers,” Lauriston said. “You can join too, if you want. But enjoy the morning. Talk with the men. Talk with Mon.”
Elisa nodded and walked towards Mon and saw the soldiers leaving him. Mon shook some of their hands and waved goodbye. By the time Elisa reached the general, there was only one soldier remaining next to him
Elisa had been relieved that Mon hadn’t received any major injuries in the fight against the Scythes, but she hadn’t had a chance to talk with him at all since they reached the army.
“Good morning, Princess,” Mon said when she approached.
The remaining soldier bowed to Elisa. “Your Highness.”
Elisa nodded her head respectfully in reply. The soldier bid goodbye to Mon and excused himself.
Mon took a seat on a log by a tent-side small fire and stretched out his legs. Elisa took the spot next to him. No one else sat with them.
“One of your old guardsmen?” She nodded after the soldier.
“He was close to my son. I hadn’t seen him in years. Didn’t know he was still in the army.”
Elisa looked around her once again. The soldiers were finishing breakfast and moving off to their drills or preparations or whatever Lauriston and the officers would have them doing that day.
She half expected the scene to fade away like her Lakmian vision. The entire morning and the escape from the Scythes seemed too good to be more than a dream.
But the log she sat on was very real. The smells and sounds of the camp were real. Her father’s soldiers protecting her were very real.
“I’m glad we made it here,” she said.
Mon grunted and smiled as he brought out a bottle from around the log and uncorked it.
“I’m glad we can fight now. I’m glad the army is still fighting,” Elisa said.
“Good,” Mon said, taking a pull from his wine.
Elisa took in a breath and held it. She was ready to fight and lead and push Erlon forward, even if things were hopeless.
Though looking at the army now didn’t make their situation seem hopeless at all. The men were in good spirits. They were hidden in the woods with no enemies closing in on them. Erlon may be falling around them, but these soldiers were going to fight on and fully believed they could still win this war.
“Thank you, Mon,” Elisa said.
She was going to say more, but just the thank you part seemed to be enough for now. She looked at Mon and he met her eye and nodded. Elisa knew she didn’t have to say anything more.
Mon took a large breath.
“I had three sons.” He exhaled with the words.
Elisa stiffened.
She had completely forgotten about their conversation in the caves. About how Mon had promised to tell her his full story if they reached the army safely. All the excitement and fear and stress of the escape had caused Elisa to forget her questions surrounding Mon and his history with the army.
Mon looked at her over another drink of wine before continuing. “I feel you deserve a full explanation now, like I promised.”
He set the bottle back on the dirt. “Victor was in the Imperial Guard with me. He’d shown himself to have valor at Riom. Noah was infantry and Paul an artillery officer; they joined in time for the Plains Campaign.”
Elisa could already start to piece together what was going to happen. Mon had never mentioned children before. The farmhands back near Plancenoit had never mentioned any family for Mon at all.
She felt her heart drop down lower and lower with every word Mon spoke.
“Noah was wounded at Stetton, the middle one. He earned a Silver Cross for that. They all fought bravely and I was proud of them, both as a general and a father. Your father, newly crowned emperor at that point, pinned the cross on Noah’s chest himself. Everything was grand, we were the perfect Continental family, warriors through and through.”
Mon paused, as if gathering himself. Elisa remained quiet. His bottle lay untouched at his feet.
“Three Bridges changed all that. The campaign for Brun with your father would be my last. And the last for my sons as well.” Mon’s eyes stared down into the fire. “Victor died in my arms, on the southern bridge. That’s the hardest of the three, because I was with him. Noah and Paul drowned when the sorcery came. They were on the central bridge. I watched the entire collapse from afar, powerless to stop the deaths of my boys.”
The morning fire let out a pop. The sounds of the army camp faded away and Elisa’s heart hit bottom. Tears welled up and blurred her vision.
“I’m...” She struggled to find words. “I’m sorry, Mon.”
“Your father.” Mon’s voice came close to breaking, but he held it strong with a short pause. “Your father wanted to give me the Soult Medallion. He wanted my oldest to get it posthumously.”
Mon looked at Elisa again and she saw a range of emotions. Sadness, of course. But also anger and regret and shame and fear. Somehow all of it and more in the old man’s expression.
“I refused both.” Mon’s voice was low now. “I stormed out of the palace without a goodbye to anyone. I left the army. I returned to my family’s farm to live out a slow death with the memories of my boys. I put down my musket and picked up the bottle.”
Mon reached down to his wine and took a long pull. He held it out to Elisa after he was finished and she took it from his hands, mainly because she didn’t know what else to do. She took a timid pull and passed it back.
“I think your father understood,” Mon said after a long bout of silence. “But I don’t think he was pleased with a general directly refusing the Soult.”
“Why have you come back?” There were numerous questions in Elisa’s mind, but that was the only one she could get out of her mouth.
Mon didn’t answer for a few moments. The fire crackled.
“Duty, I guess. Guilt, possibly.” Mon shook his head. “I don’t know. It finally caught up to me. B
ut mainly it was duty. Lauriston asked me to protect you, and that’s what I did.”
Elisa gave a nod to show she understood. She placed a hand on Mon’s shoulder.
She saw now why Mon had never mentioned his time in the army. Why he hadn’t told her he was an old general who knew her father. She understood his drinking and the darkness behind his expressions even in happier times.
Mon’s eyes cleared and he looked up from the fire. “And now we’re in a fight for the end of the empire. I won’t walk away now, not again.”
Mon took another long drink from the bottle. Elisa watched him and tried to keep the tears from escaping her eyes. Mon wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “There’s a battle coming. Maybe it’ll be my last, but I’m not going to turn my back on Lannes again and watch Erlon fall. I’ve got another chance at a last battle, I’ll go out fighting this time. And if I fall, then I’ll join the Ascended One’s hosts and see my sons again.”
Mon stood up and wiped his eyes. He looked down at her and nodded.
“Thanks for serving the men breakfast,” he said. “It means a lot for them to see you. It’ll remind them of Lannes.”
Elisa nodded and couldn’t say anything in response. Mon walked off into the commotion of the morning camp and left her sitting alone to stare into the fire.
She took in another breath and her thoughts raced.
Mon was right. He’d been right from the beginning.
Her father had inspired the men. Elisa was able to do the same simply by being present. She felt ashamed at her thoughts back on the trail about giving up or running away. Now she knew that she would never give up. She never wanted to quit and give herself over to the enemy.
If Mon could come back and fight again and keep striving for the empire, she would fight as well.
If Erlon was meant to fall, the army would go down protecting it until the end. If they could save the empire, the army would find a way. If there was a battle coming tomorrow, they would fight it.
And Elisa would fight with them.
Andrei
Andrei entered the tent and was relieved to find most of the other generals were already there. Heads turned and looked at him, disdain filling most of their eyes. General Duroc’s were the worst.
The general stayed silent and let Andrei file in with the other men. The last of the army leadership arrived and the meeting began. Duroc ran through everything quickly.
Andrei was already nervous, but he became even more worried when Duroc started dismissing the other leaders one by one after their orders were given out. The Scythes would be left for last. And there would be no one else in the tent to hide behind.
“Commander Andrei.” Duroc finally looked at him. The last of the other generals ducked out of the tent.
“General Duroc.” Andrei nodded and stood at attention.
“Where is the Erlonian princess now?”
“Her group reached a holdout army of the Erlonians, sir.”
“So we’ve lost her.”
Andrei closed his eyes. “Yes. We ran into the army’s scouting party and were flanked while attacking the girl’s position. By the time my sakk saw the cavalry, it was too late.”
“I see.”
Andrei didn’t have anything else to say. Duroc didn’t look angry, but he stayed quiet and let Andrei squirm. Another voice broke the silence.
“She’s slipped through his grasp once again.”
The god walked forward from the tent’s far corner and sat down on a chair behind Duroc. The Kurakin commander didn’t say anything. He looked at the god and waited for him to continue.
“We’ll have to get her with war. Your Scythes have failed us.” The god spoke to Duroc but didn’t look at him. He kept his eyes on Andrei.
“I know.” Duroc turned to address Andrei. “You’ll lead a division east, along the river they call the Branch. You need to secure a crossing. I’ve marked it within your orders.”
“Yes, sir.”
There was one remaining bundle of papers on the table in the center of the tent. Andrei walked over and grabbed it and made to leave.
Duroc stopped him before he reached the door. “Take the crossing and then the girl is trapped in the south. It won’t matter how big of an army protects her.”
“They’ll harass us from the forest, sir. It’ll be hard to snuff them all out.” Andrei fully faced his general and tried to keep his knees from shaking.
“I know, but that won’t matter. We have larger enemies to face now.” Duroc had already returned to writing out letters.
“Don’t fail this task.” Both men looked back towards the god. The shadows of the tent seemed to move around the being. Andrei could only see his outline on the chair now.
“The girl is our priority,” the god said. “But this war needs to be won. Duroc has assured me that we won’t be slowed down by mistakes again.”
Andrei didn’t need to look at Duroc to feel the disappointment. His orders were a demotion. He’d been given a division, a sizable force, but the Scythes were taken away from him.
He looked back at Duroc and kept his chin up. “We’ll take the crossing.” Andrei saluted and turned to leave.
He exited the tent and hurried off. He wanted distance between himself and the shadowy vision of the god inside the tent. Duroc and the god could plan their grand war without him. Andrei had lost his Scythes, but at least he’d be far away from the schemes of leaders and gods much more powerful than him.
Chapter 26
It’s a beautiful feeling, to march with a strong and confident army. A general should relish the boot falls and steady drums. For when the battle comes, he will send his men to die.
From Emperor Lannes’s Personal Journal
Year 1114 Post-Abandonment, during the Southern Campaigns
Leberecht
Leberecht broke away from the main column on the road and trotted across a field of winter wheat. There was a tiny farmhouse nestled between groups of trees just to the north. Leberecht only had eyes for what was in front of him.
The eastern horizon held his prize. The reason for all his scheming.
The plateau of Citiva.
The royal seat of the Wahrian Realm.
Mikhail rode up behind him. “The officers are distributing orders for positions around the city. They don’t expect any resistance outside the walls. The queen has already barred the gates.”
“Good.” Leberecht nodded and kept his eyes on the rock in the distance.
The train of the Moradan and Kurakin armies pushed forward down the road. Leberecht brought his horse to a stop and watched the column marching by.
“We’ll have the Moradan regiments in the north. I want the plateau to have a clear view of who is besieging them.” Leberecht felt his smile widening. His cheeks were cramping again from too much work over the last few days. But the twinge of pain was well worth it. “They’ll know the Kurakin. But let them see their former allies pointing cannons at their main gate.”
Leberecht went back to staring at the plateau and the spires of the palace on top. The queen of his birth nation would be sitting up there.
She would be in shambles.
Her son was defeated and trapped in the west with a slowly starving army. Her allies had betrayed her, her grand peace summit had failed. Now her city would fall and she’d lose her precious palace and plateau once again.
Leberecht spat down at the short green wheat grass at his horse’s feet and spurred back into a trot parallel to the road.
Someone like Queen Caroline or anyone in her family wasn’t fit to lead. None of the royals across the Continent were.
If anything, Leberecht had respected the Emperor of Erlon the most. He wasn’t a royal. He’d risen to power through merit, not by birth.
Leberecht was doing the same.
He’d reached this point through schemes and cunning and with only his mind.
And his empire was going to be bigger than even Erlon’s at its height. The enti
re Continent would be his.
Leberecht spurred his horse into a trot parallel to the army’s march and basked in the perfect execution of his plans. Soon they would begin their siege. He would draw it out and make the royals suffer through a winter without supplies.
Leberecht was going to enjoy the next few months immensely.
“Still no news of the fleeing king.” Mikhail matched Leberecht’s trotting pace. They angled their path to cross an irrigation ditch in the field and continue along with their army.
“That’s fine. He’ll turn up eventually.” Leberecht had barely thought about the little King Rapp since the battle. The boy didn’t matter anymore. He was defeated.
Once Leberecht sat on the throne in the palace, nothing else would matter for Wahring. Everything would be his and his alone and the old ways would be over.
The Kurakin armies would continue their conquest in the west and defeat the remaining enemy armies there. Leberecht’s new alliance would replace the weak Coalition and drive the Continent towards prosperity in ways the old royals never could.
It was almost too easy.
Leberecht spat into the crops again and shook his head.
“What is it, friend?” Mikhail looked over at Leberecht with a fang-toothed grin.
“Nothing, my friend. Nothing.” Leberecht winked at his Kurakin companion. “I’m happy, that’s all. Couldn’t be more content. Come, let’s pick up the pace. The vanguard should be reaching Citiva soon and we don’t want to miss the show.”
The pair of riders moved to a faster trot and returned to the road and sped along the lines of marching soldiers. They moved east and pressed closer and closer to Citiva and Leberecht’s future throne.
Elisa
The army’s officers assembled on the shore of the lake just outside the main portion of the Erlonian camp. Elisa chose a spot in the back next to Mon and Desaix. Marshal Lauriston stood in front.
“We’ll need to march soon, tomorrow if possible.” Lauriston looked at the officers. Heads nodded in agreement in front of Elisa as the marshal continued. “The army should be able to mobilize quickly. The injuries from the skirmish with the Scythes won’t hold us back.”
The Fall of Erlon Page 29