Erik

On the morning after our first day of travel, I learned that Augusta had adopted Ianthe. Augusta had a history of bringing lost souls under her wing. I was not quite sure what her criteria were; they ranged from literal puppies in the rain to neglected elders to, well, me. I knew she had planned to help Ianthe with her recovery plan, since she had pushed off the responsibility of leading daily training onto me, but seeing them made it clear that Augusta had committed herself to Ianthe’s wellbeing.

Dawn was still half an hour away, the day just beginning to tint the sky. Augusta and Ianthe stood in a dim clearing, moving through a set of simple stretches and exercises. Their silhouettes against the first light juxtaposed physical strength and fragility; one tall and broad whose movement transformed the exercises into something like a dance, the other too thin, stuttering between rigid poses. They stopped often, the larger one helping the smaller adjust her form. I had once been the smaller silhouette, brought out to the training yard and under Augusta’s wing before sunlight cracked the sky.

“Ow, ow, owww,” I heard Ianthe whine as Augusta pushed her into a deeper stretch. I grinned to myself when Augusta kept pushing, as merciless in her kindness as she always was.

I resisted an impulse to go talk to them. I had the knights’ drills to lead and I needed to hurry if I wanted to have time to check in with Ianthe about the priests before we left. The longer they stayed with us, the harder it would be to send them away. We could just get rid of them, but they were not a big enough risk to us to justify it yet. If anything, from what I had observed so far, it seemed like they had all drawn the short straw by being sent here.

The drills went smoothly, more or less, although Lionne picked a fight with Reed twice. To Lionne’s credit, they did refrain from voicing any of their animosity towards Ianthe, but I knew very well that their good behavior while in my sight did not mean the problem was fixed.

As if to prove this rule true, Lionne began provoking Reed again as soon as everyone disbanded for their morning meal. As far as I could tell, Lionne thought I had left the area. 

The very idea of eavesdropping rankled, but I considered the tension between Lionne and Reed to be an indicator of the overall stress the entire order was under. I felt a bit foolish for it, but I lingered to hear their conversation despite my twinging conscience.

“Why won’t you spar with me anymore, Reed? Aren’t you worried you’ll get rusty at this rate?”

I had seen this play out enough times to visualize their faces. Reed would be keeping his face blank, something he was getting better at, so that at first glance he might appear mature and unbothered. This would work for him if it were not for the way his neck and ears always flushed when he was angry or embarrassed.

“Lay off, Lio.”

Lionne almost snarled at the nickname. “Don’t call me that. We aren’t children anymore.”

A deep sigh – Reed – and Lionne went on. “You think you deserve to be here with so little experience and your half-baked skills? Diligence has always been your only virtue, and now you won’t stoop so low as to train with me anymore? Worried about what will happen if people see you slumming it with your old playmate?”

“That’s not –"

“You were already too busy trailing after Elias like a lovesick puppy. Now you’re sucking up to the Saintess as well? It’s pathetic. If that fu-"

“Enough.” Reed’s weary voice was deep, making him sound much older than he really was. “I’ll spar with you this evening. Alright?”

Neither of them spoke for a beat.

“Fuck you,” spat Lionne as a parting shot, their footsteps heavy with anger even on the leaf-littered forest floor.

I left quickly and walked across camp to where the horses were secured, pinching the bridge of my nose. While I had heard far more than I wanted to or had any right to hear, I had my answer. Tension within the order was rising towards a fracture point.

 

In all honesty, it was not surprising. Even before we more or less kidnapped the holy representative of the Ar Goll Empire’s only recognized faith, my knights had been under enormous pressure. Each one of them regularly risked their lives while incursions became more frequent, directions from the temple grew more vague, and support from the Imperial Order dwindled to nothing. Perhaps if I were the legitimate heir to the Duke, I could bolster the order’s prestige. The knights here swore to uphold their honor, and they joined the Second Order trusting that the duchy and the Empire would return that honor and respect to them. As their Captain, it was my responsibility to ensure they received their dues, but I had no power to do so. I had no major political allies, apart from Rhiannon, but I was more a tool in her belt than a separate political entity and we both knew it.

 

She laughed at me for choosing paths of brute force over finesse, but in the end, it was the best choice. I could not control the Emperor, the High Priest, or the political currents buffeting my knights. I could, however, steal the Saintess and improve our intel, look for the patterns behind the changing incursions, and support Rhiannon as she wove her own webs of deceit in the capital.

There was no reason any of my knights would understand that, though, given that almost none of this information was available to them.

I reached Somnium, my warhorse, still deep in thought. She stood taller than any other mare I had ever seen. In fact, at nineteen hands at the withers, she was taller than most geldings and stallions. I was shocked when the foal my Rhia gifted me when I joined the order grew from a spindly assembly of too-long legs and a too-large head into this massive wall of velvet black. I scratched her nose absentmindedly and she tossed her head impatiently to lip at my fingers.

“Hah, alright, Somni. Just a moment.” She chuffed as though exasperated.

 I shook off my reverie. I knew if I ignored the mare, her next warning would be a nip, and then a proper bite. She might look like the picture of composed majesty, but she was a diva at heart. To Somnium, there was nothing in the world that could excuse any delay in the morning offerings due to her.

“What do you think, Queen Somni, hmm? Talking to Lionne won’t fix the confusion and resentment that everyone is feeling. Even Elias has made his doubts clear.”

Pffhhhmp, answered Somnium. I gave her another piece dried apple. She chewed contentedly as I continued. I considered the problem. Since we were the people being treated as expendable at incursion sites, mistrust in the temple was higher among the knights of the Second Order than anywhere else. That mistrust was sparking preexisting dissatisfaction, since bringing along the Temple’s Saintess was, on the surface, a sign of support.

“Ah, Somni. Ideally, I would just tell everyone what Rhiannon and I learned and ask them to help. But I cannot be certain they would all be able to abandon their faith in the temple completely, much less commit to helping in a war for succession. But the longer I wait to address their doubts, the worse things will become.”

The mare shook her head, the long, black waves of her main rippling in an unnecessarily dramatic fashion. I gave her another piece of apple.

“You’re right. Augusta, Reed, and Elias have already accepted Ianthe. Interacting with the current Saint long enough should help them to see Ianthe as a person, and it will help show them that we are not being controlled or used by the temple. Most of them are worried we were forced to bring her. Eventually, they should grow to be less wary of her, and she may even become confident enough to reveal some of the Temple’s misdeeds to all of us.”

I sighed. “I’ll just have to keep an eye on Lionne for now. Their discontent will most likely boil over soon, but I’ll decide then if I can trust them with more information or not. They might be helpful in the end. Lionne is not a fool or a bully at heart.”

Somnium let out a dubious snort. I rubbed under her forelock affectionately. “Come on. You like Lionne as well.”

Rhiannon would scold me for leaving so many loose ends, but I felt satisfied with the situation for now. My biggest concern was those priests. I would very much prefer to send them away, but first, I still needed to speak with Ianthe. I finished readying Somnium quickly and walked her back through the dismantled camp towards where she stood with Augusta.

“Augusta. Before you both set off, may I borrow Ianthe?”

“Captain, you can’t talk about people as if they are objects to be handed around. I thought I raised you better than that.”

I held in an eyeroll. It was one thing for me to bicker with Rhiannon in front of Ianthe – mostly because I could not help it – but I did not want her to think I was so immature I went around rolling my eyes at everyone like some high-strung teenager.  Instead, I turned and spoke to Ianthe, hoping that by ignoring the provocation I had salvaged some of my dignity. 

“Ianthe. We need to speak for a bit.” Her name still felt strange on my tongue, but it was much better than calling her ‘the Saintess’ as I had before.

“Captain, we can’t delay departure much longer,” Augusta pointed out, tone more serious now.

“This will be quick.” Probably. From her face, I could tell that Augusta was unconvinced.

“What if I rode with you for a while, Erik?”

I was taken aback. I originally had wanted to have Ianthe ride with me, but I had not been able to justify why exactly. Having her nearby made me less worried – which was ridiculous, since Augusta was a better guardian in ever sense of the word than I could ever be. Moreover, Ianthe had always seemed a bit uncomfortable around me. It had been harder than I wanted to admit to myself to choose to have her travel with someone else, so hearing her suggest riding with me had me at a loss.

“Or not,” mumbled Ianthe after a few moments of silence. “I don’t know how you have things organized here. Does that captain need to direct things somehow? I don’t want to be in the way -”

“No, no – it’s fine. It’s helpful, actually. But are you sure you will be comfortable?”

“I will be. That is, I mean - it was my idea,” said Ianthe, her voice growing fainter and more hesitant. 

Augusta nodded encouragingly, at me or Ianthe, I was not sure. 

“I’ll take over command for now then, Captain.” Her tone was brisk and professional, but I did not miss the quirk to her lips as she turned away, leaving me and Ianthe standing awkwardly across from one another.