Hello there. I'm back. I hope you're all doing well, despite this rather messy situation we all find ourselves in. And welcome to council meetings: the chapter. This may or may not be influenced by the sheer volume of meetings I had to attend in real life recently.

Anyway, for what it's worth, enjoy the meetings. I mean the chapter.

Chapter VII
Worrisome Developments

The night after the Battle of Feoh passed uneventfully, and when the sun rose the next day, it once again found the fortress-city of Feoh the free capital of a free kingdom.

As she did during that most dramatic turning point of the battle, Alicia stood atop the battlements the keep of the First Fortress. Again, thousands of pairs of eyes looked up at her. Again, she felt the crushing burden of responsibility in her heart.

But this time, she had no Iris Knights to stand beside her. This battle was hers alone.

Father, Mother, she thought as she tried to calm herself for the ordeal ahead. Is this the right thing to do? She looked above at the sparsely-clouded morning sky, as if hoping for an answer. As she silently contemplated her choices, she unconsciously tightened her right hand's grip on the parchment scroll that held her newest decrees.

Alicia took a breath to try to still her increasingly agitated heart as she scanned the wide courtyard below her. A mere day ago, the same courtyard held a leering sea of Black Dogs slavering for the blood of the men and the bodies of the women that took refuge within the keep. The commander of the Black Dogs stepped forward directly in front of where she currently stood, and there taunted her and laughed even as he ordered the captured nuns to be brought forward. She noticed that she stood at the very same spot in the battlements where she surrendered the city to the man.

The princess shook her head, forcing her mind back to the present. We were on the brink, she thought, yet here we are now. She once again focussed on the sight before her.

In the place of lust-drunk Dogs and demons, Alicia saw a multitude of Feoh's citizens in the courtyard. It was a sad sight that greeted her. A large number of the men bore the wounds of battle and captivity, their scars and bloodied bindings testament to their suffering. In contrast, very few of the women showed open wounds. However, the princess knew that they experienced an altogether different kind of horror. A large number of them huddled close together, seemingly uncomfortable in such a large space. Some allowed their eyes to wander like animals on the lookout for danger. More heartbreakingly still, a few stood motionless and blank-faced, all but dead to the world. She saw them all look up at her.

Your fault, the people's gazes seemed to say. This is fault. You let this happen to us.

Alicia felt her heart sink in her chest, and tears began to form in her eyes. She looked down and bit her lower lip, doing all she could not to openly weep.

Not now, she thought, not now. Her gaze darted to the side, but she did not turn her head like she wanted.

Not in front of them.

Three men stood behind her, watching the proceedings. One was a brown-haired man dressed in a long tunic and cloak lavishly designed with complex embroidery and a strange-looking conical brimmed hat, and wielding an iron-wrought sceptre or mace. To his right was a large, imposing man clad in the distinctive metal panoply of the foreign soldiers' elites and bearing a fearsome two-handed axe in one hand and a veiled metal helm in the other. She knew these men: Kalomeros, commander of the Rhomaioi, and the chief of his bodyguards, Olafsson, she remembered he was called.

The third of the Rhomaioi men, whom Alicia knew stood at Kalomeros's left, was a younger man clad in a metal coat and helm and armed with a sword and a lance. He was Markos, Kalomeros's son and a captain of his horsemen; he was also the one who suggested locking her up with the Iris Knights the day before. Alicia knew in her mind that he acted in good faith and with her benefit in mind, but her pride as both a princess and the leader of the Iris Knights meant that she could not help but feel insulted at that supposed belittling of her fighting prowess, along with that of her knights'. Reasonable enough as it is.

Can we truly trust them?

Alicia's mind then wandered to the unpleasantness of the previous day, when she tried to attack the Rhomaioi even after they saved the city. She could not help but grimace at the memory, and her embarrassment only grew when she thought of the other unpleasantness that followed. The scroll that contained her proclamation suddenly felt much heavier than it had any right to be.

Her mind in turmoil, Alicia took a deep breath and looked down at the scroll. She clenched and unclenched her jaws unconsciously out of anxiety, and her trembling hand gripped the parchment all the more tightly. Her pride and every instinct she had as a princess, a Shield and a knight fought against this decision. Feoh was her city, capital of her kingdom, which her soldiers and her parents died for. It was the home of her people, who were her responsibility to defend.

She looked at the throng below yet again. Her eyes kept wandering across the sea of citizens until she saw a group of black-clad forms in one corner of the courtyard. They were the nuns of the Grand Priory, the same ones she failed to save. The gentle features of Prim, whose condition she did not know, flashed in her mind.

I failed to defend my city, she thought, but I will protect you. This is the only thing I can do now.

After one last deep breath to still herself, the Princess of Feoh stepped forward, put a hand on the stone parapet, and raised her voice to address her people.

'Good people of Feoh,' she began, catching the attention of those people closest to her that still did not look at her. 'My brothers and sisters. Hear now the words of Princess Alicia of the House of Arcturus, descendant of Eos, Sovereign of Feoh and Duchess of the City, Fourth Shield of the Seven Shield Alliance.'

Alicia paused, both to consider what she would say next and for the sake of the Iris Knights positioned on the furthest corners of the square, who bore a scroll containing her words. She briefly raised her hand to signal the knights to begin reading for the sake of the people too far to hear her directly.

'Our fair city has endured the greatest act of betrayal of our age,' Alicia continued. 'The Black Dogs have made good on their heinous declaration of war and struck at us in their thousands, from without and within.' She grit her teeth in anger at the memory of the multiple betrayals that opened up her city, even from the people whom she trusted the most.

A heavy feeling assailed her spirit once more as even more memories of the battle came flooding in, and her heart felt as heavy as a millstone.

Your fault.

'We…' she said, slowly and deliberately. 'We, your Iris Knights, were powerless to stand against them. We have failed you.' Tears started forming in her eyes again as she struggled to speak her next words, ones that she did not write in the scrolls the Iris Knights were reading at that moment. 'I have failed you. I know that my words can do nothing to ease your suffering, but…'

Alicia bowed her head, her breathing shallow and laboured. The tears began flowing freely, and she could do nothing to stop them. Her next words were little louder than a whisper.

'I am sorry.'

There was silence for a moment, replaced by the background murmurs of the people and the indistinct words of the proclamation, delivered from a distance by the Iris Knights the princess entrusted with her words. I wonder what they think, Alicia thought as she silently wept, her mind set on her people. Do they hate me? Have they always hated me?

'She offereth her apologies to her people, my lord,' a voice from behind the princess – Olafsson, she quickly realised – said behind her, speaking in a low voice in the language of the elves.

'I see,' another voice, Kalomeros, replied, similarly keeping his voice down.

'And so, a ruler boweth her head to the commonality for wrongs she hath perceived in herself,' Markos said. 'Surely, this sight is a rare thing in our lands.'

Alicia silently gritted her teeth in frustration. He mocks me, she immediately thought, even if a small part of her mind reminded her that she did not clearly know the man's intent. Still, that flash of anger seemed to be what the princess needed to focus her back on her task. She wiped her tears, raised her head, and continued her address.

'Yet here we remain, free and unconquered,' she continued, her voice regaining strength as she pushed herself to her duties once more. 'The Black Dogs have been driven off and their treasonous collaborators awaiting judgement in our dungeons. The city is now safe.' She again paused, partly to catch her breath and partly due to a burst of cheers from her listeners, which drowned out her words.

When the people fell silent, the princess cleared her throat and continued.

'The salvation of our city is due in no small part to our new allies, the Rhomaioi, sent to us from a faraway land by the will of Christos, their God.' At the mention of the name of Christos, Alicia saw some soldiers of the Rhomaioi mixed with her people in the crowd below doing that curious gesture of touching their foreheads, bellies and shoulders with the tips of their right forefingers, middle fingers and thumbs. She knows that the three Rhomaioi lords behind her may have also made that gesture themselves. Questions of what the gesture meant, why some of the Rhomaioi do it at some times and why others do not, and when it is supposed to be done float in Alicia's mind, but she brushed them aside as issues for later.

'The Rhomaioi marched with all haste from their camp deep in the forest to our West Gate, and they struck at the Black Dogs at the moment of their triumph,' Alicia explained. 'And so it was that a force of a mere four thousand defeated a host five times its size with minimal losses. It was a crushing victory, worthy of a place among the greatest in the annals of the Alliance.'

Another cheer rose up from the courtyard, and Alicia was content to allow her people their joy. As the people cheered, Alicia turned towards the three men behind her and nodded, which was the signal for them to come forward.

'And now, my people,' Alicia called out as the cheering was quieting down. 'It is with great joy and the highest honour that I present to you the commander of the Rhomaioi, his lordship the General Stephanos Kalomeros, saviour of Feoh!'

The people's applause grew louder when Kalomeros stepped up to Alicia's right to reveal himself, and the cheers intensified yet again when the general raised his mace in acknowledgement of his audience. Alicia rejoiced to see her people happy once more, but shame and regret pricked at her heart anew.

'They love you, sir,' she said in the elven tongue after Kalomeros put his hand down, her smile not quite reaching her eyes. Kalomeros looked at her questioningly and seemed to discern her disquiet.

'Given the circumstances, that does not come as a surprise,' Olafsson remarked in Eostian, his flat, seemingly disinterested tone betraying nothing of the intent of his words. Alicia simply nodded in acknowledgement.

'I believe the people's reception of the General showeth the people's high esteem towards their princess,' Markos said, nodding at his own words. The princess shot him a questioning glance. That treacherous little part of her mind that admonished her for her earlier annoyance towards the man seemed to tell her that he may not have been trying to insult her after all.

'I am in agreement with my son,' Kalomeros followed up. 'In our homeland, people show much mistrust of all strange foreigners, especially in circumstances such as this. Yet thy people do welcome us wholly and without reserve,with no guarantee but thy words of assurance. If such is not a show of trust, I know not what is.'

Alicia shook her head, a sad smile on her face. 'Or they simply hate the Black Dogs,' she said.

'Thine estimation of thy people's love doth seem to me too low, despotissa,' Markos remarked. 'Didst thou not stand defiant for their sakes even as a host much greater than thine own approached? Surely thy people hath not such short memories as to forget that.'

Alicia turned towards Markos again and realised what the captain was doing: he was trying to be truly accommodating towards her in an attempt to make up for what he did earlier. She simply faced his father again.

'They expect you to give a few words, General,' she said, pointedly not replying to Markos's words. Kalomeros briefly raised a curious eyebrow before nodding and turning towards the people again.

'People of Feoh,' Stephanos said, addressing the citizens. Olafsson also stepped up and translated his words. 'My brothers and sisters. You name me victor and saviour of your fine city. 'Tis a grave error, and one I shall correct. In truth, I and my brethren are naught but the instruments of your rescue. We dare not take the glory and honour that so rightly belong to God, for His is this victory, as are all of our shared victories to come!'

There was silence among the people for a time, before the familiar words of the battle cry of the Rhomaioi from the mouth of one of the soldiers below broke the silence.

'O Stavros nika!'

Another great cheer rose from the people, though the words of the battle cry rose above the din.

'O Stavros nika! O Stavros nika! O Stavros nika!'

As the people cheered and applauded to the high heavens, Alicia realised how very little she knew of these strange foreigners. Even the words of their battle cry seemed strange to her. Whatever does a pole have to do with victory? She thought. Doubts and fears again began to assail her mind, but her people rejoicing alongside the Rhomaioi strengthened her resolve. She raised a hand to still the cheering crowd, unrolled her scroll, and read out her proclamation.

'Receive now the words of my decree!' She exclaimed as the cheering began to die down. 'I, Alicia of the House of Arcturus, by the authority granted unto me by Her Holiness Celestine Lucross, incarnation of the Goddess Larentia, and of my own royal house and birthright, do declare thus: the City of Feoh, though victorious against its foes, has suffered much at the hands of the traitors. Therefore, the taxes of all the loyal inhabitants of the City and its environs are waived for the remainder of the year and the whole year after it. All taxes of the same territory shall be reduced by half for the two years to follow, and reduced by a quarter for the two years after them. It also pleases the Crown to provide loans at reasonable interest to those guilds, tradesmen and farmers who have had their shops and produce destroyed by the Black Dogs, that they may rebuild their lives and return their trades to productivity.'

Alicia paused to catch her breath and gauge the people's reaction. She knew this decree seemed sound at the moment, but in truth, she was not truly certain of how it may affect the treasury. In fact, it was only at that point, when most of the nobles she relied on to govern her realm were either thrown to her dungeons for betrayal or murdered by their peers for their loyalty, that she realised how little she actually knew about ruling her kingdom.

A murmur of some nature or another rose among the people, but Alicia could not determine if they approved or not. Seeing no other choice and knowing she would look weak by rescinding a decree, especially after the other knights in the square had already possibly read it, she kept reading.

'Secondly,' she continued, 'the families of all the loyal soldiers of Feoh who were wounded or who fell in battle against the Black Dogs and the traitors, to the second degree of consanguinity and to the third generation, shall be permanently exempt from all forms of taxation.'

'Thirdly, all properties and chattels of those who have betrayed the kingdom in service of the Black Dogs shall be confiscated and placed upon the Royal Treasury to aid in the rebuilding of the City. All those who have sided with the Black Dogs who remain within the City's dungeons shall be granted the right to a trial by a court ran by the Holy Iris Order and headed by the Princess or a court of the Rhomaioi headed by General Kalomeros or whomever he chooses to appoint, whichever they choose. Those found guilty shall be granted appropriate punishments by the laws and customs of those they are tried under. Those found guilty by the Iris Knights' court shall face punishments of the highest penalties afforded to the commonality.'

There was silence among the crowd for a moment. Alicia knew that her people fully understood the import of this decree. That is, that all those found guilty by her court, be they noble of peasant, will face the same end: hanging outside the city walls in full view of those they have wronged. The 'hempen dance', as she heard some among the commoners call it. And with the priests of the Goddess all slain in the battle, they will have no recourse to a final blessing before death. She sighed, hoping that such a punishment can be enough to douse the desire for revenge among her people.

She continued speaking after a moment's pause. 'All men of rank found guilty by the courts will be stripped of their titles and have their noble houses abolished, their properties confiscated, all of their family registers put to the torch and the remaining members of their families banished to the wild lands of the east or the north.'

Another murmur arose among the people, and Alicia found her resolve shaken. Were the punishments enough? She thought. Was I too cruel? Too lenient? She looked up to the sky. Father, Mother… She then sighed and turned right to the Rhomaioi lords beside her. I guess we shall see.

Alicia again took a deep breath and spoke. 'Furthermore,' she said, 'as a show of the kingdom's gratitude towards their timely rescue, the Rhomaioi shall be given half of the traitors' confiscated chattels as plunder from the enemy as customs dictate. They are also invited to settle in Nostras District in the south-western part of the Outer City and to take ownership of those fields that fall within its borders. There, they shall be allowed to live under their own laws and to freely practise their faith. The Crown also consent to the construction of a church dedicated to Christos within the borders of this new quarter of the Rhomaioi, with the necessary funds and labour provided by the Crown. All those natives of the City living within Nostras are permitted to either remain and live among the Rhomaioi and be counted among their number or to move elsewhere, with the properties they have within Nostras compensated for by the Crown.'

Alicia looked at Kalomeros, who remained impassive. That part of the decree was one of the conditions they spoke of the day before. Giving away part of her capital city to foreigners was a sore point for the princess, but she knew it had to be done. For the people, she thought. For Prim.

'Finally,' Alicia continued, 'the Crown requests General Kalomeros of the Rhomaioi to train the New Army of Feoh, created along the principles of their own army. Membership in this army shall be open to all able-bodied men of the kingdom aged 17 to 40 years who are of sound mind, spotless criminal record and upright moral character. In exchange, the Crown consents to allowing the Rhomaioi to replenish the ranks of their own army from the citizens of Feoh. All natives of Feoh who choose to join the Rhomaioi as recruits and who are accepted shall be counted as Rhomaioi themselves.'

As the people murmured among themselves, Alicia rolled up the scroll and observed.

'They seem to have taken thy decrees well, despotissa,' Kalomeros remarked. 'I know not what they say, but there seemeth much excitement amongst thy people.'

'I can only hope so,' Alicia said with a thoughtful frown. After taking another moment to take her waterskin from her hip and take a small sip, she spoke the last words of her proclamation.

'Such are the words of Alicia Arcturus, Princess of Feoh, Duchess of the City and Fourth Shield of the Alliance, marked by the Great Seal of the Kingdom of Feoh and spoken under the authority of her Crown. Let none who are just and upright countermand them!'

There, Alicia thought at last as she rolled up her scroll, it is done. She dismissed the gathered people with a wave of her hand, and the citizens of Feoh all bowed before her before dispersing. The Rhomaioi, on the other hand, remained standing still before Kalomeros dismissed them as well. As the people began to file out of the courtyard, herded to the gates by the Rhomaioi like shepherds watching over their flocks, the princess faced the three lords beside her. They gave small bows, more out of courtesy than respect. She nodded in return before moving back to the castle, gesturing for them to follow.

I have given you what you wanted, Alicia thought. Now I can only hope that you prove yourselves more honourable than the Black Dogs.

She hates me, Markos thought with a sigh.

After Princess Alicia's address to her people, she and the three Roman officers with her immediately decided to go about their business for the day. For Markos, that meant going with his father to determine what was to be done to him for imprisoning the Iris Knights without orders. That thankless task was still some ways off, however. Thanks to the genius of the architect who designed the First Fortress, the princess and the Romans still had to navigate a long hallway to reach the parlours handed over to the Romans. This gave the young komes a few more moments to appreciate the sight of the princess, who marched well in front of the Roman trio, as if in a hurry to get the day over with.

The princess was beautiful, that Markos knew for a fact. While the rest of her Iris Knights were all charming in their own way, she was by far the fairest of them all. Before his eyes swayed her long, silky blond hair, left uncovered in barbarian fashion. Her hair was also mostly unadorned, save for a silver-coloured band that likely signified her rank, which lay above her forehead, and two silver circular ornaments beside it. She was, naturally, facing away from him, so he could not see noble yet delicate features of her face, including those regal purple eyes that drew him in so much.

Markos also remembered his relief he felt earlier that morning, when he saw that the princess, like her Iris Knights, had taken to wearing spare Roman kavadia: the blue of the koursores, in her case. Still, he admitted to himself that the princess's earlier attire gave her quite a few glances of her slim, well-proportioned body. Before he quickly quashed such thoughts, he wondered how she could have maintained her dainty feminine form despite apparently being a well-trained warrior in her own right.

Such beauty, he thought, and she hates me. He sighed and shook his head in despondence. And not completely without justification.

The group reached a fork on the hall after a few minutes' march. The princess hurried on forward without a moment's pause. Markos, both lost in thought at how he can possibly get to her good graces and not overly familiar with the layout of the Fortress's top level, moved to follow her, but he was stopped by a hand on his right shoulder. The komes turned to see his father, his expression one of poorly-hidden amusement.

'It's this way, Komes,' he said, pointing to a door on the hallway to the right with his free hand.

'I- of course, Strategos,' Markos replied, following as his father led him towards the appointed room, chuckling quietly all the while. The Komes managed to steal one last glance at the princess, who neither acknowledged nor even noticed him.

Truly, she hates me, he thought glumly. Olafsson giving him a nod of acknowledgement before going off towards his own business gave him little comfort.

The room Stephanos led Markos to was a large, spacious room dominated by a long rectangular table made of dark wood furnished with high-backed seats, each one emblazoned with a symbol that likely showed the rank or identity of whoever sat there. The side of the room opposite the door were a number of narrow, round-topped windows that flooded the room with light while the wall where the door stood contained framed tapestries covered with black cloth. The end of the room furthest from the door, the one where the seat of honour was, had a large shield also covered by black cloth above some shelves that contained books and a large rolled-up parchment. The end of the room opposite it contained shelves of books or records, along with a small, dark-coloured door between the shelves. Markos also saw that Spyros, a servant from their household close to him in age, already stood in wait near the head of the table.

'This was apparently the room where the First Minister of the kingdom met with the lesser officials of state,' Stephanos said when he saw Markos's eyes wandering. 'This said First Minister is also apparently chief among the conspirators who wanted to hand the kingdom over to the Black Dogs.'

Stephanos moved towards the seat at the right hand of the head of the table, which Spyros immediately pulled back. Markos thought it interesting that his father did not go for the seat of honour as his rank entailed. Will he meet with someone of higher rank soon? He thought.

'Those are apparently depictions of his ancestors,' Stephanos said as he sat down, pointing at the covered tapestries with his thumb without looking at them. He then pointed to the covered shield. 'That is his house's coat-of-arms, not unlike the ones the Latins have.'

'I see,' Markos remarked, still looking around the room as he approached his father. 'It does not seem like the kingdom spared any expense for him. Why would this minister think of treason?'

Stephanos shrugged.

'Lust. Greed. Envy. Who knows?' he said. 'Perhaps I will have the chance to ask him in the dungeons.'

Markos nodded once as he stood next to the seat opposite Stephanos.

'But of course,' Stephanos continued. He sat straighter in his seat, placed his elbows upon the table and tented his hands before his face. Gone was Stephanos Kalomeros, the amiable father. In his place was Stephanos Kalomeros, Strategos of the Army, appointed governor of Trebizond. 'We are not here to discuss the crimes of some barbarian official, aren't we, Komes Kalomeros?' he asked.

Markos nodded again. 'Of course, Strategos,' he answered.

'You accuse yourself of causing a possible diplomatic incident by influencing your commanding officer's decision to imprison the barbarian Princess Alicia Arcturus and her household troops,' the Strategos said, his tone flat and formal. 'Allagator Kamateros tried to take responsibility for the action, but you yourself confessed to being the instigator and sole bearer of guilt, in any case.'

'Yes, sir,' Markos replied.

'I have consulted this case with the laws and customs of the Roman Army, as well as with your commander and the others of the tagma,' Stephanos continued. 'The military laws are, as can be expected, silent on the issue of incarcerating allies based on their attire. However, the commanders are largely supportive of your reasoning. Indeed, it was important in this case to ensure that possible allied units are protected, especially in such vulnerable states as we have found them. And it was equally important to uphold the honour of the Roman Army and keep it free of pure mind and conscience, even in the stresses of battle. In these points, the commanders agree with me: you are cleared of wrongdoing.'

With a simple relaxation of posture and a change in facial expression to a more laid-back smile, Stephanos abandoned the guise of Strategos and was simply Markos's father once more.

'Thank you, Strategos,' Markos said. 'But I can't help but think that a however is imminent here.'

Stephanos's smile widened.

'However,' he said as Markos sighed. 'Since people you advised to be thrown into prison were a foreign princess and her bodyguards, the issue of politics must be addressed, especially if we wish to ally ourselves with these people.'

'I am to be punished, then?' Markos asked.

'Yes,' Stephanos replied with a nod. 'With this formal reprimand: That was bad. Do not do that again without first sending a messenger to report to me.'

Markos chuckled. 'I acknowledge my error and will be certain to correct it,' he said.

'I am sure you will,' Stephanos replied with a nod. 'So I am confident that I can now give you your new temporary posting.'

Markos raised a curious eyebrow but remained silent. He had not heard anything about a new posting.

'Tell me,' Stephanos said. 'What do you think of the barbarian princess?'

What? Markos thought, preventing himself from speaking out loud just in time. He pushed his willpower to prevent himself from flinching as he rapidly tapped his fingers on his side in thought. He also saw that his father had that look on his face, one that he only saw once in his life before, when he met the daughter of the Georgian envoy: the mischievous, slightly amused look of a man who noticed that his son has reached the age when boys start to appreciate the beauty of women.

'Well, I…' Markos began, thinking of a way not to make a fool of himself. 'I think- I think the princess seems troubled, father,' he said.

Stephanos's eyes squinted in thought, perhaps not expecting such an answer. Or perhaps that was exactly the answer he was looking for, Markos thought.

'Troubled?' the Strategos asked. How so?'

'I base that thought on this morning's address,' Markos explained. 'The princess effectively dented her treasury for the year and at least the five others to come, yet she promised funds for various things, for loans and the building of a church and the raising of a new army and such. She may not even know how much raising an army may cost. I believe she worries much for her people, but she does not actually know how she can help them.'

Stephanos nodded, conceding the point. 'Perceptive,' he said, sounding as if he entertained those same thoughts in his mind. 'Perceptive indeed. And this shows that you have actually think about the princess's station instead of just seeing her as a pretty face.'

Markos let out a nervous laugh as he tried to look away from his father. In the corner of his eye, he noticed Spyros desperately trying to hide his own laughter.

'So you noticed,' he said.

'Of course I did,' Stephanos answered. 'You may not believe this, but I was also twenty-one years old once.'

Father and son shared a brief moment of laughter together before Stephanos cleared his throat and issued orders once more.

'Your new posting has much to do with the princess,' he said as Markos stood at attention. 'She currently commands 86 female swordsmen, 24 of whom remain unharmed while 33 more are lightly wounded. Such numbers already count as a cavalry bandon, with a few more besides.'

'Indeed,' Markos replied with a slow nod, his mind slowly forming some idea of what his father was about to say.

'As part of my agreement with the princess, we are to train a new army for her: a new Roman army, in fact,' Stephanos continued. 'To that end, I will send a staff of kampidoktores and their auxiliary servants to train the princess's warriors into proper koursores.'

He gestured at Markos with one hand.

'I am attaching you to the princess's first bandon so you can assess how well they perform. While the kampidoktores provide the drills and exercises to instil discipline among the soldiery, you will train the bandon's officers on the ways of command. I give you these barbarians, and in a month's time, I expect them to ride in formation like Romans, fight like Romans, and think like Romans.'

I am to train these Iris Knights? Markos thought. Am I really the best-suited for that task?

'You have something in your mind,' Stephanos said, easily reading Markos's expression. 'Let us hear it.'

'Well,' Markos began, briefly glancing at the covered portraits to collect his thoughts and immediately focussing back on his father. 'I am simply wondering why you have chosen me for this task, specifically. Surely, there are other, more experienced officers of the koursores?'

'There are,' Stephanos said plainly. 'Eirenikos and Amentos come to mind. However, they are experienced in commanding native Roman cavalrymen, who already have the training and discipline of Roman soldiers. You, on the other hand, have the most experience in commanding foreign troops and turning them into an effective fighting force.'

'Are not the Serbs considered fully Roman citizens?' Markos asked.

'Only recently,' Stephanos answered with a shrug. 'They are foreign enough for our purposes.'

'How foreign does that make us, then?'

'Not very,' Stephanos said, a patient smile on his face. 'My mother was half-Serb, but my father was fully Roman, I grew up in Constantinople, and I was raised as a Roman. Both of your parents are Roman, and you grew up in Trebizond.' His smile widened. 'Which, as you know, is the most loyal of Roman cities.'

'But then again,' Stephanos said after a short pause, his expression turning serious. 'You are trying to change the subject. You are to train the princess's knights and bring them to Roman effectiveness in a month. Am I understood?'

'I'm afraid the princess and her knights may not actually have a good opinion of me, given how I had them imprisoned in their own hall…' Markos remarked.

'Then the first lessons they ought learn are discipline and professionalism.'

'One more thing, Father,' Markos said. 'Will you truly allow the princess and her knights – her female knights – into the fury of battle?'

Stephanos shrugged. 'They have trained for war in their own crude ways long before we arrived,' he replied. 'And that they are allowed to endanger themselves upon the blades of the enemy despite them being women is due to the weakness of the native men, not ours. We are simply adapting to the situation. After all, outnumbered as we certainly are, we need every sword and spear we can get.'

He then grinned, and Markos thought he saw a mischievous glint in his eyes.

'And I am doing you a favour here, Son,' he said, his grin widening. 'If this Princess Alicia truly does think poorly of you, this is your chance to improve their view of you.'

Markos sighed and shook his head. 'This kind of "favour" did not work too well with Nino,' he said, grimacing at the memory. The image of the Georgian envoy's daughter from four years prior flashed in his mind once more, but he quickly quashed it. That part of my life is over now.

This time, Stephanos laughed out loud. 'I'm certain your crippling shyness from back then is not my fault,' he said, still chuckling. 'Let us simply hope that you have managed to get over it.'

He waved his hand towards the direction of the door.

'Go on, then. You are dismissed. You will report to your new posting tomorrow. For now, you will take care of your bandon's chain of command, should they need to operate in your absence. Though I am certain you will dump all of the work onto poor Gavrilo again.' he shook his head. 'Just like those lessons you did not like.'

Markos shared one last laugh with his father before started to make his way towards the door.

'But before you leave, there is one more thing,' Stephanos said, just as the Komes opened the door to the hallway. Markos stopped and looked at him.

'There is a clear line between wholesome admiration and unholy lust. You are a grown man now, so I am certain you know which is which.'

Markos shook his head with a smile as he left the room, hearing his father's laughter even as he closed the door behind him.

Once his son left, Stephanos assumed the role of Strategos once more. He sent Spyros off to call on the other commanders of the tagma shortly after his son left, which gave him a few moments alone to consider the situation. Not wanting to waste any time, he stood from his seat and walked up to the shelves below the covered coat-of-arms, taking the large parchment that lay in one shelf before returning to the table. He unrolled the parchment on the table and returned to his seat.

The parchment, which took up a considerable part of the table when unrolled, showed a map of the kingdom, detailing all of its major settlements, landmarks and fortifications. The letters were all quite foreign to him, but it showed the main features of the kingdom well enough: the mountainous north and west, the forests of the south-west, and the plains of the east. A great river – the same one that bounded the Roman camp – ran roughly from north to south from the mountains and provided the kingdom's western border, fed by several tributaries. Several thinner blue streams flowed from the north to the plains and beyond the kingdom's eastern border, but the map showed nothing about how large they were or whether they were navigable.

Habitation centred on towns, no villages of note, heavy fortification, some streams of water, Stephanos thought as he looked at the map. It seems familiar. He stood and moved to another part of the table to look at it from another angle, and another, and another. Soon, he settled back to his seat, finally recognising why the map seemed familiar to him.

Here is Trebizond, he thought, resting a finger at the fortress-city of Feoh. He traced a line westward, and his finger ended up close to another town. Here is Petroma. He traced his finger further west, and it ended up exactly in another town. Here is Kerasous. He kept tracing a lines with his finger, naming castles and towns from his own home as he went. Sourmana. Ardasa. Mesochaldia. In terms of the arrangement of settlements, at least, I might as well be looking at a map of the Theme of Chaldia, with the Pontic Mountains moved north to replace the Black Sea.

'Interesting,' he said, eyes squinted in thought.

There was a knock on the door, which Stephanos took note of without taking his eyes off the map. It opened with a slight creak after a few moments, and Spyros poked his head into the room.

'The commanders are here, my lord,' the servant said.

'Enter,' Stephanos replied with a gesture, rolling up the map and letting it rest against the table beside him as a group of men filed into the room.

The commanders of the tagma entered in single file in a well-drilled procession. Though they wore their courtly attire of instead of armour, the briskness of their movements and the uprightness of their bearing gave no doubt as to the martial nature of their profession.

Olafsson led the procession, imposing even without his armour, a living representation of the authority of the absent Emperor. He was clad in the ceremonial cloak, tunic, and silken hood of a Varangian officer in court, and he carried a staff of office in the place of his iconic axe. Close behind was the Komes Argyros, leader of the imperial troops attached to the tagma and commander of the siphonatores. He bore no staff and only wore a tunic of common silk and skiadion of a nobleman of modest rank, but he did wear a golden necklace that showed the double-headed eagle of the Komnenoi as a reminder of his unique status as a man of the Emperor's household.

After the Emperor's men marched the commanders of the tagma. Demetrios, Stephanos's Topoteretes and commander of the kataphraktoi, stout and dependable, was first, wearing a nobleman's skiadion and a carrying staff of office. After him was Alexios, Master of Camp and one of the most learned men of the tagma, wearing a turban and bearing a ceremonial mace as a show of rank.

Behind Demetrios and Alexios were the commanders of the individual companies of the tagma, men wearing humbler turbans and carrying no staves. First among them were the Allagatores of the koursores, Kamateros and Rhadinos. The older Kamateros was scarred and roughened by a lifetime of war while the younger Rhadinos was clean-looking and well-formed. After them marched the Taxiarchethes of the infantry: the two Andronikoi, Bourtzes and Psellos, both of whom reached their high rank from humble beginnings, and Photios Mouzakios, scion of a rising family in Trebizond. Behind the infantry commanders were two more Allagatores, those of the hippo-toxotai: Markos Aionios, the son of a converted Turk, and Nikephoros Spartenos, a descendant of the Pechenegs that once plagued the Empire. And behind all of the Roman commanders, last in position but not in dignity, marched the Frankish Count de Brienne, commander of the Latinikon, who was clad in the attire of his native French court and proudly displaying the sigil of his noble house in his tunic's chest.

'Gentlemen,' he said, gesturing towards the table. 'Be seated.'

The commanders followed after the Strategos, taking up most of the seats but leaving the head of the table empty.

'Princess Alicia of Feoh and her noble counsellors,' Spyros announced as the Romans have settled in their seats. They stood up with military synchronicity to acknowledge the entry of the princess, who was technically their host.

The princess walked in, followed by a man and a woman. The woman, a green-eyed Iris Knight with short, masculine hair of an exotic orange hue, was Ophelia, the princess's new second in the Holy Iris Order. The man, a relatively short, stocky man of possibly middle age dressed in the strange, frilly garments possibly worn by the native nobility, was unknown to the Romans. However, that his right arm was in a sling and he had a bandage over the left side of his face said quite a lot about where he was during the battle.

Stephanos observed the princess once more. She was beautiful, there was no doubt about that, and he understood why his son was so attracted. He also saw in her actions, in the small gestures and she made and how her eyes darted from person to person in the room when she thought no one noticed, that she seemed uncertain.

Troubled indeed, the Strategos thought. Markos was right.

'My lords,' the princess said as she and her companions stood at the room's entryway. 'May I present to you Lady Ophelia of the House of Marrasal, my interim Marshal of the City, and Lord Claudius of the House of Asan, interim Steward of the City.'

'You and your worthy lords are welcome among us, Princess,' he said.

The princess nodded and immediately took her place at the head of the table while her two companions – her entire government, Stephanos thought – sat furthest from her. Between the princess and her nobles were Roman commanders to her left and right, an unsubtle show of where power in the room truly lay.

'Please, be seated,' the princess said. All the lords in the room complied, though the Romans only did so after a slight nod from the Strategos.

'On behalf of my commanders, I thank you, Your Highness, for your graciousness in allowing us to make use of a portion of your city as a base of operations,' Stephanos said, quickly attempting to take control of the meeting. Even this conversation is a battle in itself, he thought, one to determine what this partnership between us will be like.

'That is no issue to us, Strategos,' Princess Alicia replied with a smile Stephanos believed hid deep-seated discomfort. 'It was the strength of your valiant warriors that ensured that we still have a city to accommodate you in.'

'Hear, hear,' the bandaged man, Lord Asan, said. A show of solidarity with the princess, Stephanos thought. A way to demonstrate where he stood.

'But of course, our gratitude to you is already quite evident,' the princess continued. 'We ought now to speak of the future. Namely, of our next steps now that the city is secured.' Here it is, Stephanos said, she will push us towards a full expedition into the neighbouring kingdom as soon as possible.

He remembered what happened in their previous meeting the day before.

'Whatever demands you have, I will be certain to accept them,' the princess told him with a low bow. 'But I beg of you, please make sure my sister is safe!'

Such care for her sister is admirable, Stephanos thought, but it may lead to disaster.

'We have driven back the Black Dogs, but not without losses of our own,' Stephanos said. 'It may be better if we focus our strengths on rebuilding the city, recouping our losses, and securing the surrounding countryside.'

'I agree,' Lord Asan added. 'Securing our shared home first is important.'

'The city's fortifications are largely untouched,' Alexios remarked. 'Our soldiers should be able to hold it against a force of a size similar to the one that attacked as long as the provisions hold.'

'Will they hold?' Stephanos asked.

'They will,' Alexios answered. 'We have just finished our tally of the supplies we have captured from the Black Dogs. I estimate that we have about four months' supply of food. We may not need to even think about slaughtering any of our own cattle for some time. We also have replenished our stock of military arrows. Their swords are similar enough to our own, but their spears are of insufficient length for our purposes.'

'I will grant your blacksmiths access to our forges and toolmakers,' Alicia said. 'And I request that you also outfit recruits from Feoh with your metal chain-coats, if possible.'

'As is proper,' Stephanos said with a nod. Best be careful in this, he thought. Be too accommodating and we will end up as mere subordinates of these natives. Be too controlling and we will sow unnecessary conflict. Both cases will be detrimental to our mission.

'By the way, my lord, we have yet another issue with armour,' Alexios reported. 'That is, we lack the silk and cotton to manufacture more kavadia, should the need arise.'

'If you can explain to us what those are, we may be able to find them for you,' Lord Asan said.

Stephanos nodded and looked at Alexios, who was seated to his right two seats away from him, next to Demetrios.

'Then I will coordinate with Lord Asan to procure the materials, if they are available,' the Master of Camp said.

'In the meantime, my lord, I suggest getting the servants to sew French gambesons in the place of kavadia if the need arises,' de Brienne said, stroking his beard in thought. 'After all, a gambeson is simply a kavadion made of linen and wool instead of silk and cotton.' He addressed Lord Asan. 'We do have linen and wool, do we not?'

'We do,' Lord Asan answered with a nod. 'If you can provide us a figure of how much you need, we will be more than happy to supply you.'

'We have another issue regarding supplies, my lord,' Alexios said. 'And I believe this one is especially close to your heart. Our supply of liquid fire is critically low. Given our rate of consumption of it, I believe we will completely run out in about two battles.'

'Liquid fire?' Lady Ophelia asked. 'What might that be?'

'I have heard some prisoners speak of your warriors spewing out magical fire that cannot be quenched with water,' Alicia said. 'Might that be it?'

'Indeed it is, Your Highness,' Alexios answered. 'It is a weapon revealed to our ancestors by divine inspiration, but it is not magical at all. Our supplies of it, however, are limited.'

'I have already made an arrangement regarding liquid fire with Komes Argyros,' Stephanos said. 'He and his men shall see if anything can be done regarding this situation.'

'We can head out as soon as possible, my lord,' Argyros confirmed.

'Now that our issues with supply are solved, I would like to make a suggestion,' Lady Ophelia said. Alicia nodded and gestured for her to speak. Perhaps because this suggestion is made at her own instigation, Stephanos thought.

'Thank you, Your Highness,' the lady began. 'The Strategos's suggestion of securing the countryside is well and good, but perhaps we can take it one step further. Perhaps it is possible to send an army further afield, to the Kingdom of Ur to our south, so that we can form a united front against the Black Dogs.'

'Ur has long been an ally of Feoh, even before the formation of the Seven Shield Alliance,' Lord Asan said, 'and her ruling house is closely-related to the House of Arcturus. While the martial prowess of their knights is inferior to the Holy Iris Order, they too are stalwart and courageous, and their nuns and mages are skilled in the arts of healing.'

'And if they are under attack, assisting them with a full expedition will win the Romans their gratitude, which will certainly be most valuable,' Princess Alicia added. 'I support this suggestion.'

Stephanos tented his fingers in thought. Launching a full expedition to the neighbouring kingdom is not wise at this time, he wanted to say. Admittedly, though, ascertaining the situation of our neighbours will be good for us.

'That proposition is acceptable,' he said, 'if we are not as vulnerable as we currently are.'

'Vulnerable, my lord?' Alicia asked, her tone flat but seemingly hiding some agitation. 'How so?'

'Firstly, the previous battle has shown me that we are quite outnumbered by the Black Dogs,' Stephanos said. He faced Demetrios, who sat next to him. 'Topoteretes, elucidate the princess on the state of the tagma.'

'Sir,' Demetrios replied. ''Our losses in the previous battle were light, a little more than 200 dead. The tagma currently has about 4,200 soldiers, including the banda who should be arriving with our cattle and provisions later today.' He looked at the direction of de Brienne, Argyros and Olafsson, who were all seated opposite him. 'Counting the Emperor's men and the Latinikon, we have around 4,800 all in all,' he said, and the three nodded in confirmation.

'Not an insignificant force,' Lord Asan remarked. 'Especially since it has shown itself capable of defeating a foe that greatly outnumbered it.'

'True,' Demetrios said, 'but among that 4,800 are the wounded. About 1,200 were wounded in the battle, quite a number of them seriously so. While the lightly-injured are still able to fight, the physicians inform me that the most serious cases will not be able to fight for a month or so, the others in about a week or two. At the moment, we have a little less than 4,000 capable of fighting.'

'Just barely enough to garrison the city,' the steward said with a sigh.

'And we cannot discount the possibility of rebellion from the kingdom itself,' Stephanos said.

'Our towns are loyal, Strategos,' Lady Ophelia said pointedly. 'And so are the nobles that govern them.'

Stephanos looked around and saw in the faces of his commanders exactly what they thought of the loyalty of those provincial nobles. Even Princess Alicia herself did not seem too convinced.

'Even loyalty may lead men to rash action,' Olafsson remarked, which Stephanos was quite grateful for. He can speak more frankly than I can in this matter, he thought.

'Consider this, Your Highness,' Olafsson explained. 'Swift riders should be headed to the kingdom's chief towns to deliver your decrees. Those same decrees speak of an attack by the Black Dogs, the capital left vulnerable, and quite possibly occupation by a new army they have never heard of before. The decree also has measures regarding the contribution of a portion of the city's land to this new army, providing them with half the plunder, allowing them to recruit citizens to increase their numbers, and building a church to their God, whom the people have also not heard of before. If you were in the place of the citizens who have neither seen nor heard of the battle we have just fought, what might this decree tell you regarding the status of the capital?'

Alicia shook her head and looked towards her two nobles, as if asking for assistance.

'That…' Lord Asan began. 'That this new army that defeated the Black Dogs now holds the princess hostage and have forced her to write this decree for their sake as the first step towards commanding the kingfom.'

'Indeed,' Stephanos answered. 'The more loyal souls within those towns may then be driven to rise up in rebellion, misguided as they are, and march on the city to try and rescue the princess. On the other hand, the more ambitious will see this as an opportunity to either carve out their own independent demesnes and arise in rebellion as well.'

'What- what can be done to prevent these rebellions, then?' Princess Alicia asked.

Stephanos once again tented his fingers before him and furrowed his brow in thought. 'Perhaps…' he began. 'Perhaps they may be placated by a show that you are still in full control of the kingdom. You or some Iris Knights famed for their loyalty and closeness to you – perhaps Lady Ophelia – can visit one or two of the chief towns of the kingdom, ostensibly to ascertain their safety after the victory against the Black Dogs. The people of those towns will see this, and the news will spread that you are safe and well. This should be enough to quell misguided loyalist rebellions. However, nothing can quell the ambitions of the second type of rebel, so our soldiers will be prepared for battle, should they approach the city's walls.'

The princess considered his words and eventually sighed in defeat

'So nothing at all can be done for Ur, then?'

'I did not say that,' Stephanos said, shaking his head. 'Unstable as our position is, it will be good for us to learn of the situation outside our walls. I will send a swift mounted force to Ur to ascertain the situation there.' He gestured at Kamateros. 'Allagator Kamateros is an able commander and a seasoned scout. I am sending him, with Allagator Aionios as his second.'

Kamateros and Aionios stood and bowed, and the princess nodded in acknowledgement.

'And what if Ur is indeed under attack? Or what if it has already fallen to the Black Dogs?' the princess asked.

'After such a crushing defeat here, I doubt the Black Dogs are in any shape to attack anything for some time,' Psellos remarked.

'And we have captured their provisions as well,' Bourtzes added.

Princess Alicia frowned as she thoughtfully mulled over the Roman commanders' words. 'Yes, I guess that makes sense,' she said after a few moments. 'But we cannot be too certain. I and a dozen Iris Knights will accompany your scouting force.'

'What of the knights who will pacify the towns, Your Highness?' Lady Ophelia asked. 'I know you are very concerned about Princess Prim, but what of the threat of rebellion?'

'I entrust that duty to you,' the princess replied. 'Sergeant Cassandra is also a native of Darlan and is famed in that region. If the people there see her and hear her words, they will know that Feoh remains free.'

'Very good,' Stephanos said. He then gestured for Spyros to approach. 'Head to Kamateros's and Aionios's men,' he told the servant. 'Inform them of new orders to prepare to move out. And tell the stables to prepare horses fit for two allagia and provisions for…' He turned to Princess Alicia.

'How many days does it usually take to ride to Ur?' he asked.

'Four days, if we take the secret road in the woods,' the princess explained.

'Eight days,' Stephanos told Spyros, which earned a questioning glance from the princess.

'Yes, my lord,' the servant answered with a bow before heading off.

'I must take my leave early as well, to command my knights to make their own preparations,' Princess Alicia said.

Stephanos's mien turned thoughtful, his brow furrowed and eyes slightly squinted. She is willing to abandon all affairs of state to ascertain the safety of this sister of hers, he thought. Admirable to an extent, but it can be a weakness that can be manipulated if shown in excess. We ought to teach her to moderate this tendency.

'Surely you can leave the duty of sending messages to a servant, Your Highness,' Lord Asan said before turning to Stephanos. 'Strategos, we have further matters to discuss, do we not?'

'Indeed,' the Strategos said with a nod. 'Of governance, the new Roman Quarter, recruitment, and new means of defeating demons. I also expect servants carrying our refreshments to arrive alongside Father Makarios shortly, so you do not need to call for one.'

The princess sighed. 'Alright,' she replied. 'I shall remain for as long as I am needed. But I expect to be able to leave at the soonest possible time.'

'My men are always ready to do their duty, Your Highness,' Kamateros said. 'We can leave as soon as the horses and provisions are ready.' Aionios nodded in agreement.

'Do not worry, Your Highness,' Stephanos added. 'We are, for the moment, still laying out the foundations of our alliance. I am certain our discussions not keep you overlong.'

The princess nodded, though she did not seem fully convinced.

Indeed, after Father Makarios arrived and the men of Feoh and the Roman Empire started discussing matters of governance, warfare, and the question of spreading the faith, the meeting dragged on for hours, until half an hour after midday.

'Which castle is that?' Claudia asked as she scanned the western horizon. In her eyes, that castle was little more than an indistinct grey vision atop a distant hill.

'That would be the Rock of Kish, own by the Count Valdram,' Captain Astrid of the Dawn Templars answered, looking at a map.

'Weather permitting, three more days to the City of Ur, then,' Claudia said. A tinge of worry appeared in her mind as she spoke those words, and she looked up at the morning sky. She noted with some relief that the clouds remained sparse: an uncommon event that far into autumn.

'Yes, My Lady. And from there, a week to Feoh. We can only pray we are not too late.'

'We will not be,' Claudia said firmly. 'The Goddess's visions are never in error.'

Claudia Levantine, Grand Master of the Dawn Templars, Lady-Steward of Feoh, and Second Shield of the Alliance, marched with all due haste to Feoh. Alongside her were four companies of the Dawn Templars, 200 knights in all, a third of the strength of her order. The knights, as was customary, were accompanied by their squires and men-at-arms, around 6,000 all told. The assembled force was an awe-inspiring sight, the cream of Geofu's armed might.

In truth, Claudia had hastily gathered the army after Celestine Lucross, Goddess Incarnate and First Shield of the Alliance, called for an urgent convocation of the Shields shortly after the Black Dogs sent their declaration of war. Despite the Seventh Shield Maia locking herself up in Ansur and refusing contact with anyone shortly after the exposure of the Black Dogs' betrayal, the convocation went on ahead, and the Goddess detailed what her visions revealed about the Black Dogs' plan of attack.

'Feoh would fall first,' she said, 'and Ur along with it. Then would follow Ansur, and Rad only after a fierce struggle. The fortress of Thorn, isolated, would be set ablaze, and even Geofu-on-the-River would be overthrown. Only the White City would remain at the last, but even it would not stand for long against the demonic tide.'

All of the Shields present expressed shock and disbelief at that prophecy, even Kaguya, in her own reserved way. Alicia, ever the most devoted of them, proclaimed that her city and Prim's will not fall as long as she drew breath.

The Goddess, however, was not comforted by such words. When asked how Vault could possibly do what the Dark Queen had only failed at for centuries, the Goddess shook her head and admitted, tears in her eyes, that she did not know. The rest of her Shields, true to their duties, vowed to her that they will undertake all the preparations necessary for this new war. For her part, Claudia was ordered to head back to her home city of Geofu to gather what forces she can and assist Feoh in the coming attack. If she can prevent its fortress-city from falling, she was told, the Alliance may yet ride out the war intact.

After the convocation ended, the Goddess called on Claudia privately, as she often did when she wanted to speak freely. They spoke together in the inner gardens of the White Palace, where Celestine told her Second Shield of a private worry, one she did not want to burden the others with at that point.

'The eagle with two heads makes the future uncertain,' she said, her voice trembling with uncertainty. 'I have seen a new army, of knights on iron steeds and of steel and fire. Their arrival will throw all prophecies off balance, for they act upon the orders of a higher will.'

'What is the nature of this army?' Claudia remembered herself asking. 'Are they enemies? Friends, perhaps?'

'Of that, I do not know,' Celestine admitted with a sigh. 'All I know is that they will arrive, and by this sign, they will conquer.'

She then traced a foreign runic symbol in the air, one that gave Claudia some sense of nameless foreboding she could not fully understand. The burning rune dissipated after a minute, but its memory remained with her.

The sound of hooves on the ground drove Claudia back to the present. She turned back and saw a messenger, one bearing the banner of Sir Caldan of Geofu. The messenger reached her shortly after.

'Report from the rear guard, My Lady,' he said. 'The army's baggage train is fully rested and prepared for the march once more. My lord Sir Caldan apologises for falling behind.'

'Good,' the Second Shield said with a nod. She then turned towards Astrid. 'Resume the march. Our task is to reach the Rock of Kish by midday and the border of Ur by nightfall. We will leave the baggage train at the Rock if it proves too slow. If the need arises, we can just procure our provisions from the villages of Ur as we march.'

'Yes, my lady,' Astrid replied.

Worries about this new army can wait, Claudia thought as their march began again. For now, we have Feoh to save.

Under the leadership of Vault himself, the Black Dogs have managed to overcome the greatest of the dark elves' strongholds far to the north of Garan within weeks the conquest of the Black Fortress. A few hold-outs of resistance remained in the mountains, but they were all isolated and crushed, their leaders given over to the demons as playthings and their common womenfolk violated by the Black Dogs in full view of their men.

The majority of the dark elven men, those that did not betray their kingdom for a place in the new order, were reduced to becoming slave labour and conscripted shock troops for the Black Dogs' growing army. The two millennia-old history of the ancient Kingdom of Garan was all but eradicated, and its lands became the Commandery of Negramstia, first of the provinces of the Sex Empire.

However, as the Black Dogs crushed the last of the dark elven resistance, the army they sent to the lands of the Seven Shield Alliance was decisively crushed in Feoh, which spoiled their initial plans to turn that city into a foothold from which to launch further attacks deeper in Alliance territory and a hub they can use to send supplies to the front and captives back to the Black Fortress.

Still, the self-proclaimed Mercenary King, Vault, paid little heed to the defeat. He had enough contingency plans to deal with such setbacks, and he had ripe recruiting grounds both in Negramstia and within the lands of the Alliance itself. Furthermore, autumn was slowly giving way to winter, and the deserts of Garan would be at their most navigable point in the year.

The conquest of the dark elves was over. The time to move the bulk of the Black Dogs' strength south had arrived.

Hey look, I managed to cut the number of actual meetings to one. Yay. The Black Dogs were also supposed to have a meeting with the usual evil Black Dog shenanigans (Chloe and Olga should have made an appearance), but when I reached that point of the story, I'm sure you'd already be as sick of them as I am right now. Still, meetings have to be met somehow. Hopefully, someone gets to try to kill something next chapter.

Janne Rolfe Jalandoni: I agree, city is better than no city.

Perseus12: Nope, the Roman Empire here stays in my Medieval II playthrough, where it belongs. If the Byzantines need reinforcements (which they do), they'll have to be creative.

Pockmark: I decided to leave the fate of the traitors to another time, when the situation is no longer as precarious. For now, the traitors can remain comfy in their nice dungeons.

Aznereth: I'm not a fan of simply bashing villainous characters, you see. If the people in the story thinks they're threatening enough to be the main antagonists, they have to actually be able to back it up. And I'm also a fan of armour doing what it's supposed to do: make sure the pointy thing does not reach its wearer's innards. Meanwhile, in an unrelated universe, big battle scene. You don't know this, but Settra likes sand. It's rough, it's coarse, and it gets where his enemies don't want it to.

edboy4926: Thanks.

Mad God 42: You can also try the Medieval II Total War and Crusader Kings 2 soundtracks. Very fitting. But if you want to try to use the music I listen to while actually writing this, you may want to look at things that most certainly do not fit, like the Initial D soundtrack. This chapter is brought to you by 'Gas Gas Gas'.

Blazblade: The fall of the Black Dogs remains to be seen. For now, they're still the big, overpowering threat that has filthy tentacles in most places and a stable base they can recruit from and retreat to. I'd also probably only use the old Deus ex Machina trick for when I've written myself into a corner and can't find a way out, but there will still be other supernatural elements in the battles to come. If the Byzantines want to win, they're going to have to work for it. I'm making magic very rare in this story based on the fact that the Black Dogs apparently only had two mages despite being the biggest mercenary army in the land, so the Byzantines' knowledge of medicine and the wonder that is the field medic will still have to be important going forward. As for training, Alicia now has requested a new Byzantine-style army for herself, though she may get a rude awakening regarding how much an army costs. She may even have to offer her new soldiers land in exchange for service instead of money. The Byzantines had a name for that… The new soldiers will be armoured in mail, of course, which is actually lighter than most people think (still fairly heavy). And I'm also a fan of Nikephoros II's cataphract archers, but by the time of the Komnenian period, cavalry roles are starting to become more specialised to reduce training time, with horse archers becoming lighter and faster and cataphracts turning into 'picked lancers' like Western knights. That's probably what the Byzantines here will also do. As for naval battles, the original Kuroinu map did have rivers, but they're very much out of the way. I extended one river from the mountains of the north to that sea in the south, which means it forms part of the border between the Black Dogs' lands and the Seven Shield Alliance. I also added more streams and rivers so the people can actually have water to drink and irrigate with. And I see your Viking longboats and raise you Byzantine fire dromons… if they can actually find some ingredients for liquid fire. As for your question in the previous chapter about crossbows, the Byzantines should theoretically know about them (they had the cheiroballistrai back in Roman times and may have called their bigger ballistae 'great crossbows'), but they didn't seem to use them much during the Komenian period. Anna Komnena wrote they were 'barbarian weapons' that weren't common among Greeks.

Basileia Rhomanoi: I'm pretty sure the emperors and the Church still used the Chi-Rho, though I'm not sure about it being a national emblem. Honestly, I only used the Chi-Rho here because that's the Byzantine symbol in the Stainless Steelmod for Medieval II Total War.

Ekurman: Thanks.

kyro2009: Yes, Vault will have strategies. He'll have lots of strategies. Wherever he will target next, it's certainly not Feoh again. But as I said previously, I'll try my hardest to make the Black Dogs an actual threat in this fic instead of just a target of bashing. I've learned that making your big bad evil guy actually dangerous is one key to a good story, so long as you don't end up overdoing it.

carbon1923: Yes, those things go together like peanut butter and liquid fire. Very lovely.

Stoneman303: Thank you. The multiple viewpoints were there as much for my sake as for the reader's; if I get bored with one part of the battle, I can easily switch to another. That's also what I'd probably do in the Settra story since I've gotten used to it.

Xboxgorgo18: They're going to have to recruit locally. Maybe even teach the barbarians enough Greek to make them understand orders.

Oh, as a bit of trivia, that possibility of ambitious nobles in Feoh building their own enclaves after they learned the capital was taken is a reference to what happened to the Byzantine Empire after the great big mess that was the Fourth Crusade. I also got the name 'Negramstia' from Kuroinu 2, which I learned about thanks to the magic of even more fanfiction. That was the name of the Black Dogs' empire then. I'll probably make some odd references to the Kuroinu sequel here and there (and in the other story).

And that's it for now. Next, I'll try to edit some earlier chapters because I very stupidly wrote them so that castle doors opened outwards, which is bad design. I'll also work on the next Settra chapter, which should come shortly after (Orthodox) Easter. No promises, though.

And remember, stay safe.