"You are going to that party," General Jameson stated bluntly the next day. "Between getting to show off the Long Patrol, making connections with the Imperials, strengthening the peace, and presenting ourselves as peers, it is an opportunity to do a great deal of diplomatic good. Besides, we will be having a celebration of some sort to commemorate the peace deal around that time anyway, which you will need to attend as well, so this lets us plan ahead a bit more, and show off."
Richard nodded, sitting in the chair across the desk from the General.
"I understand, it's just…" He chewed his tongue for a moment. "I killed his son when he captured me. So… I feel uneasy about it."
"You'll have a protective detail, more than just a handful of the Long Patrol. Veteran soldiers, who have done this sort of thing before," The American general explained, in an attempt to reassure the younger Canadian. "Besides, I doubt it's ambush, the Count is inviting too many different people, including the Saderan Imperial family."
"I know, I know…" Richard sighed, shaking his head. "Probably just my nervousness over the upcoming training."
Samuel snorted in amusement.
"You'll be fine," He laughed. "Major Johnston has faith in you, and I trust his judgement. Hell, the man's gut could probably pick out one of those… what were they called? The shapeshifters?"
"Dar," Richard replied, letting himself relax.
"Right, well, speaking of them…" The phone began to ring. "Hang on, one moment."
Richard leaned back in his seat, letting his eyes wander around the general's office. He noted with some amusement, that a trio of battle standards, all Saderan, had been set up in his office to one side in a rack. Pictures of other people in uniform dominated the walls, with only a single display case showing the general's awards and campaign ribbons being the only statement of ego he spotted. The NATO flag hung next to a bookshelf, on which Richard recognised many of the books on medieval and Roman society, culture, politics and warfare.
"General Jameson," The officer said into the phone. "Jeff, good to hear from you, but… no, I understand… I…"
Richard gestured to the door, in a silent question to the General. Samuel shook his head, mouthing 'stay'.
"I'm glad to hear your daughter is doing better. But no, I can't authorise that… damn it, Jeff, you can't ask for those sorts of favours. We just don't know enough about… Okay, look, first, I understand, but you shouldn't be being given that information. Second, you have not been invited, and the list will be up to other people to decide, probably a committee. Third, the main invitee is here in my office, and you have interrupted a meeting. If something gets cleared, and they are looking for volunteers, and I can legally inform you, then I will, but please, for both our sakes, don't do anything stupid… yes, thank you. You too, goodbye."
Jameson placed the phone on the receiver with a sigh, hanging his head.
"Friend of mine, politician. Daughter got hit by a car a couple of years ago, and he is desperately hoping there is something here on Falmart that can heal her injury," He took a deep breath. "Someone told him about the invitation. Modern communication, and the fibre-optic cable, are sometimes a pain. He offered to participate in the delegation and back me however I needed, in exchange for getting healing for his daughter."
Richard winced.
"Corruption, but the kind that is hard to condemn," He sighed. "So, I assume based on your comment that a committee is going to determine a list of Earth politicians to attend?"
"Probably. I only just sent the report in myself," Jameson shrugged. "Anyway, where were we? Oh, right, the Dar."
The American general pulled a file from his desk.
"Here, give it a read. The guy that was captured back at Italica has been gone over by the spooks, and now he wants to 'defect'," He said, handing the folder to Richard. "More like he wants a steady paycheck, with a boss that isn't going to treat him as disposable. I'm not sure if it's a good idea, but the choice is yours since he is hardly the first former foe added to the Long Patrol. Intel added a bunch of comments. Take a few days to read through it, then decide."
General Jameson leaned back into his seat, rubbing his jaw.
"One last thing. Got an odd request from Rory," A dark look flickered over the general's face as he gained a distant look as he mentioned the demigod. It vanished a moment later. "She, along with an odd fellow from Italica have requested your assistance and backing for an… expedition to some old ruins. She insisted it be you, rather than some archaeologists."
"Me? Why?" Richard's face twisted in bafflement. "Why would she want me? I avoid her."
"So do I. Her and the marines are a… potent combination," Samuel shuddered in memory. "All I know is that she cited her god as part of the reason and that the journey would help relations. She said there were a couple of bandit groups that were hiding near the route they would take, that we could wipe out. I'm willing to believe her that far since she is at least honest with us, and she offered to assist our people by being given copies of some records of the Gate from Rondel, a mage-city-state to the north."
"Any idea what they are looking for?"
"No. And that worries me," The American sighed. "Magic, gods, dragons, things from fairy tales and fiction. Too many unknowns with them being real. If she's headed to seal some ancient evil before it awakens, then I would want it done yesterday. If it's for something else…"
The general threw up his hands.
"So…" Richard asked. "You suggesting I go?"
"Honestly, I don't know. I'm willing to send some soldiers in that direction, and what she is offering is worth it, but…" General Jameson shook his head. "Some days, I wonder if this is all a bad dream. Anyway, you have just over a week free before the training would start, so there is time. This, I am also delegating to you. I'll give you the name of the fellow with Rory, and let you talk to him and decide. If there is nothing else on your end?"
"Actually," Richard handed a form over. "The bill for the uniform. Need your permission to ship them over."
"Oh, right," Samuel laughed. "So, what did you agree on with your sister?"
"Boots and dress coats," The Canadian replied. "Another company is going to do the uniforms and the helmets. Dress headwear is being done by a third company. Ended up going with, at Hannah and Tara's insistence partly to draw from history and snub the Saderans; dress uniforms inspired by the British Army of the 1860s."
The American general laughed.
"So, a week away from Alnus? Sign me up!" Tara laughed next to Richard.
He had sent word to the individual, a priest of Palapon the god of vengeance apparently, named Dimmu, requesting to meet him.
Tara, exhausted from the verbal fighting that had broken out in the wake of the festival, had elected to join him. They had chosen a new restaurant, this one located in the newest section of the rapidly expanding Alnus town, as the location for the meeting, partly out of curiosity.
So far, Richard had not been impressed. Cheap tables, rickety chairs, and based on the wait times, a too-small and understaffed kitchen.
"We still haven't decided if we are going to follow up on it," Richard pointed out. "Besides, you'll be away as part of the officer training. Oh, I think that is him now."
A cloaked figure walked through the entrance, hunched over, using a staff for stability. The cloak was old and well-worn but looked as if it had been recently cleaned. Slowly, the figure made their way to Richard and Tara's table.
"Sir Richard, Lady Tara? I am Dimmu. Thank you for agreeing to consider my request," The malformed shape beneath the cloak said as he sat at the table, in lightly accented Saderan. "My apologies if it is rude not to remove my cloak, but I suffer from sensitivity to the light."
"So, why is it you requested my assistance in this matter?" Richard asked.
Dimmu paused, considering his response.
"Ultimately, while there are several reasons, my primary reason is that Her Holiness, Lady Rory, recommended you," He explained. "My research… ties into my faith. I am a priest of the god of Revenge, and the tale I am investigating… pre-dates him. A tale of revenge, which is of interest to him. In exchange, my revenge will be seen too. So it is not purely a matter of the pursuit of knowledge or wealth."
Richard knew that there would be cultural differences. Even on Earth, there were still cultures that treated revenge as a virtue. Or at least acceptable. Nevertheless, the concept of revenge, here, made him uneasy.
"'An eye for an eye leaves the world blind.' As the saying goes," He said. The idea of assisting an act of revenge made him uneasy. Left a bitter taste in his mouth at the thought. "I fail to see why I should assist you."
"Well, that is an… interesting way to look at it. But is not justice another form of revenge?" Dimmu asked, peering out from under his hood. Richard and Tara caught a glimpse of a malformed face, with twisted bone beneath fur and twisted and knotted skin. "A thief who has stolen from a merchant has taken goods that might have been sold to a family to eat, after all. And is it not a judge chooses who lives and dies, who faces punishment, and what 'just' punishments are?"
"Justice is based on a set of standards, applied to all, evenly and without bias. On paper, if applied correctly," Richard countered bluntly. "Punishment is done and determined by society, not an individual. It is not about punishment itself, but rather adding incentive to avoid the crime being done in the first place, and having a standard that had been agreed to beforehand on how to handle those that did break the law. Revenge is based on emotion, rather than any sort of rational agreement or process. But we are getting off-topic. Why should I go with you on this expedition to ancient ruins?"
Richard felt Tara lay a hand over his.
"Well, it would seem your people and mine have… different definitions and values of justice," The priest snarled. He took a breath before continuing. "The ruins in question are an old Warrior Bunny city, from well before the Saderan Empire was founded. Perhaps before humans ever came to Falmart. The elven city-states, primarily the one that once existed where Italica now is, waged a war in response to heavy raiding. It lasted for several years, until the Warriors Bunnies on this side of the Dumas Mountains. I am tracing the path of two warriors, a demigod and her lover, who participated in the war. From what I have gathered, the demigod was the servant of the Warrior Bunnies goddess, an old god that no longer worshipped, and yet she fought alongside the elves. Her lover was a powerful mage, credited with the destruction of entire armies. They split, after one battle, and I believe they reconnected in this city. But this is the strange part: That city was never attacked, never mentioned afterwards. Both peoples seem to have… abandoned the city and avoided it like it was cursed. My god is certain that their tale of revenge against the goddess culminated there, and my own research supports it. All I ask is for the story. The riches and whatever artefacts discovered would be yours. I can also offer my services, and the services of my god, to assist your mission, and to determine if any of those items are cursed."
"Presenting! Praetor Peregrinus Porphyrogenita Pina Co Lada!" The sound of the wind and the roar of the 'helicopter's' 'engines' nearly drowned out Hamilton's announcement as Pina's delegation – the elements of the Order of Roses that were not staying at Alnus – disembarked from the NATO flying machines.
Pina kept her face calm, and her feet steady, as she led them towards a formation of the Imperial Guard. Smiling, she evenly greeted the officer in charge as he saluted her.
"Praefectus Praetorio Spurius Commidus. A pleasure to see you again," She acknowledged her father's commander of the Imperial Guard. "I am honoured my father has seen fit to send you personally to escort me back to Sadera."
"It is my honour and pleasure, your highness," The officer smiled back and bowed. "I must apologise however, for not giving you the proper time to recover from your journey, especially given the… strange mode of transportation the otherworlders provided, but your father has requested your presence. He wishes to speak with you, as soon as possible. He also hopes the newest recruit to the veterans assisting your knights arrived safely."
The Praefectus Preatorio, titled from an ancient office, glanced nervously as he spoke at the large helicopter behind her. Pina didn't blame him, it was a strange way to move, but it was swifter than any flying mount she had heard of, and offered a smoother ride.
"He did, yes. I look forwards to what he can offer my knights," She replied. "Now, if the Emperor asks of it, we should not keep him waiting. Please, lead me to my father."
"Thank you, Valerian. You may leave,"
The officer saluted his emperor, before departing, leaving Pina alone with her father in his study. On the desk lay her letters to him, reports on Earth, NATO, and related political concerns. In his hands was the second to last letter. The latest was apparently still on route, and Pina had overtaken it.
"The senate is greatly concerned over some of your reports," He began, not looking up from the letter. "They, quietly, accuse you of xenophilia and defeatism. I know you better than that, however. And I am not a blind fool. This NATO crushed many of our legions. We would be left with half-trained recruits, dregs, and rebellions across the empire if we launched another attack. So, we cannot defeat them militarily?"
"No," Pina answered her father, taking the offered seat. She relaxed into the cushion, thankful for its presence as it absorbed any discomfort from setting in her armour. "They have… extremely well-developed supply lines and doctrines. They have been able to stockpile supplies for weeks, and we have no reliable method for defeating their cavalry equivalents. Not to mention their soldiers are trained to an equal standard as our own, with superior weapons."
"Could we not steal, purchase, or replicate their magic?" Molt Sol Augustus asked. He knew the answer already of course, Pina had laid it out quite thoroughly, along with a basic explanation of how the weapons worked. He had sent out a few agents to acquire alchemists to see if there were methods available, and he knew for certain that Bouro had as well. But he wanted to know if Pina had learned anything else, or if she had information she did not want to risk in a letter.
"It isn't magic," Pina sighed. "We can replicate it, but only in a very primitive form, until we can create better tools and metals. Unfortunately, it would be too unreliable to use on the battlefield and would be extremely expensive. If we can maintain relations with NATO long enough, and at high enough levels, we would likely be able to purchase tools and weapons."
Molt raised his eyebrows.
"Indeed? What would be the main difficulties?"
"Slavery, and the peace treaty. There is also the matter of the land they are occupying, and the vassals," Pina replied. "King Duran seems close to Sir Richard, the knight that took Alnus, and there has been talk of treaties with the other vassals in the region."
Molt nodded. He had heard similar rumours, and the letters between him and Duran, well; they were far from friends. Duran had always resented the Empire's control over his country and the oppressive taxes levied.
"What do you think they will demand for the treaty?"
"That…" Pina faltered. "Aside from monetary or material demands as compensation for the invasion, I'm not sure. They may want trade concessions or force us to move away from using slavery, as they are strongly opposed to it. One member of NATO had a civil war over the issue, and another dedicated its navy to the extermination of the slave trade for several decades."
Emperor Molt hummed in contemplation, leaning back in his chair. He didn't blame Pina for not knowing what they would want for peace, and what she did not say they wanted was rather strange. It was a fact of diplomacy that one needed blood relations between nobles, to strengthen any peace, otherwise, it was merely one man's word against another.
If they were not demanding any form of connection, then what else would they want instead to avoid a new war? Pina's letters had outlined quite clearly how handily they could break the Empire. That they did showed a weakness for the plight of the commoners, if what Pina had been told was true regarding them fearing the collapse of the Empire.
Molt paused and searched for a letter, one that detailed the political systems of the other side of the Gate.
"They're all like republics," He muttered. "That would make dynastic alliances difficult."
Pina seemed confused as her father smiled.
"As long as the financial burden is not too severe, a monetary repayment would be acceptable," He said. "They intend to do us the honour of hosting the peace talks, yes?"
"Yes. I offered them the use of the Jade Palace if that would be acceptable to you," Pina replied.
"Good, that will do fine. Isolated that they cannot accuse us of spying on them, but not so far that they could be attacked without the Imperial Guard being able to respond," He nodded. "Yes, that will do. Now, there is another matter. The Senate. They are not going to be happy about the treaty. Less conquest, and fewer slaves, will hurt them. The Imperial family will survive, and I recommend you quietly get rid of your slaves. Sell them, gift them to this Richard to free them and gain some influence with him, whatever you feel appropriate. Daughter, you received my letter?"
"I did, yes," Pina confirmed, slightly confused. "But I'm not sure what you meant by it. How can I become more involved than I already am? What of the Order of Roses?"
Molt sighed at his daughter.
"You brothers both scheme for the throne. Members of the Senate look to use them, and you, to achieve their own ends," He explained. "Zorzal thinks me blind to his true intellect, though he overestimates himself in the process, and Diabo makes far too many risky deals. Neither of them I would trust. Yet, I cannot simply appoint you to the throne, not without Zorzal doing something to earn condemnation from the Senate. There is also the matter, daughter, of you. Why do you think so many nobles, most of them Equestria Familia, agreed to join or were sent to join your order of knights? Surely you recognised not all of them hold to the same sorts of stories and codes you do?"
Pina's mouth went dry. Suddenly, her armour felt heavier.
"Father, what do you mean? I am aware that some are looking to curry favour, but we are devoted to the Empire never-the-less."
"Indeed," Molt, who had earned the throne through political alliances and the previous emperor being dethroned by a too-powerful senate, one he had curbed to end a brewing civil war, nodded leaning over his desk. "But daughter, who would be Emperor when I am gone? Who would rule the Empire?"
