Libertatis Imperium (Gate)

[charclone]

A.N. Latest chapter I have written for this story (ch 46) was fighting me, but at least I also have an extremely large chapter for Æonian Flame... in about four weeks when I post it. Unless I write more for that story.

Anyway, here is chapter 43. Enjoy. Also, please leave a comment about your thoughts, as I am always curious what people think about the chapters.

---

She was annoyed with her friend.

Most of the time, it took several decades before they would let a mage-in-training join in battles. Her friend? Only took one to become a fully certified warmage.

The demigoddess had fought two battles against the long-eared foe alongside the king's armies. In the first battle, they had been scattered, and the village fell swiftly, the inhabitants put to the sword. The second battle happened after several more villages had been destroyed. Over two thousand warriors cam pouring into a valley as the elven army marched.

The fighting had been bloody, brutal, and served only to invigorate the elves. Several other kingdoms had pledged their support, with a few smaller ones becoming vassals of larger ones.

The Huntress-Queen seemed annoyed at it. She had forced her 'champion' to kill several envoys, in the wilderness outside the city. It only served to make the other kingdoms more afraid, as an unknown killed stalked their envoys, bold enough to strike deep inside elven territory, even after the Huntress-Queen's people had been so brutally beaten. This in turn made the Huntress-Queen more infuriated.

Thus, a third battle was to take place, fifteen years after the elven village that took in the young girl was destroyed.

The demigoddess glared at her friend, dressed in the full battle regalia of a warmage.

The young elven girl, now a young adult elven warmage just smiled at her friend, dressed in light armour, still with the blessed spear.

"So, the enemy is massed at three times our numbers, across the river?"

The demigoddess sighed.

"Yes. They fortified parts of it. The 'High King' as he is being called now, wants to use mages to brake the fortifications, while the army fords across, as a distraction, while detachments cross upstream to flank them." She shook her head. "Please don't do anything foolish."

"What, like charge into a massed army by yourself to rescue the king?"

The demigoddess glared at her snarky friend.

"I'll be safe, don't worry, but you take care of yourself as well, alright? I… I'm scared at what the Huntress-Queen might make you do, besides killing those envoys."

"You knew?"

Her friend nodded.

"Yes, I knew. I also knew why. I… I've been looking into it. Once the battle is over, we'll talk about it, alright? There is something I want to go looking for."

They both turned to look in the direction of a horn call, blasting out over the camp, calling soldiers to arms.

"Well, I'd best join the other mages." Her friend leaned forwards and kissed her on the cheek. "Been wanting to do that for a long time."

The demigoddess stared as her friend fled.

'What foulness. How can you even call it love, and yes, I know you are calling it that in your head. Honestly, you can't even spawn children when it's between two women.' The voice of the Huntress-Queen intruded upon her mind. 'Now, you have a battle to fight. Go, teach my people why they should never had grown soft.'

---

The fortification, wooden walls built into and atop hills, burst into flame. The eruption didn't destroy them, but they did ignite them with such heat that they became useless as defences. The rabbit-eared warriors came charging down the hill as the vanguard pulled itself from the boats, forming lines that crashed into each other. Spears and blades stabbed, in an attempt to break the shield walls.

The demigoddess leapt from the boat she was on, over heads of the Elven warriors, and scattered the foe as she landed. To her shock, another form landed next to her.

A large, muscled elf gave her a momentary grin, before swinging a massive halberd around, scattering more of the foe. He bellowed a laugh, as he scattered them like wheat, permitting the elven forces to take advantage of the sudden breach. More warriors disembarked from the boats as they arrived at the shore and pressed the advantage.

The demigoddess cast a glance at the unknown demigod and plunged into the fray. Blood began pulling at their feet, as they butchered the foe.

Within moments, the foe broke, and attempted to make a stand on the slopes beyond the riverbank.

The two demigods gave them no chance.

A log was easily torn from the burning fortifications and sent rolling down the side slope. The women warriors screamed in panic and pain, and the elves cheered.

To the demigoddess, it was dull. She could not be killed, she had gotten her fill of vengeance seeing several villages burned, and by this point, she was better a warrior than the fools that tried to leap at her, often failing to land a hit, let alone bypass her armour.

Minutes after the last warrior was off the boat, the sound of hooves could be heard. The battle was decided, even if it wasn't over, as the elven cavalry came charging from upstream. Their spears and speed scattering the disorganised foe like dust in the wind.

The demigoddess sat on one of the hills, watching the foe be butchered, even as they tried to flee. She flinched when a blood-soaked hand landed on her shoulder.

"Ah! What a wonderful slaughter." The demigod grinned. "I love the sight of death. Part of the reason the God of Order chose me as his demigod. My name is Emroy. Who is your patron, round ears?"

The demigoddess glared at the elf. She was still self-conscious about that.

"The Huntress-Queen. She thinks her people became lazy."

Emroy laughed.

"Lazy? Hah! Civilised is more like it. Most of these warriors are from cities to the East. So, how did the demigoddess of the Huntress-Queen end up working with the High-King, my nephew?"

"I… they attacked the village I lived in. I… only lived, and saved the people there, because of her. We… wait, your nephew is the High-King?"

"Yup! My brother had a better head for politics, so I handed the crown to him so I could be a warrior."

Emroy said more, but his voice suddenly became distant.

'Ah… finally, they agree to come together. A new Queen has been chosen, one who is uniting the clans and tribes under her, rejecting the soft ways of the cities. Go to her." The Huntress-Queen commanded. 'She will need my guidance, if she is to be… properly trained, and take the right path. No, I don't care for your… attachments. My people will be strong once more.'

The hand on her shoulder tightened.

"I could stop you, if you wanted me to. Let her plans falter." Emroy gave her a dark look. "My god told me of what was coming to pass. Another massive battle, many will die. What good is deaths without a good life before them? Say the word, and I will help."

She was tempted. But she felt an ache in her spine. A compulsion to go.

A dark thought slipped into her mind, as a plan formed.

"No, but… tell my friend, a young elven mage, what happened, and why I am going."

Emroy grinned, and he pulled his hand away, adjusting the massive halberd on his back.

"As you wish. I will of course support the elves. The god of order is rather opposed to the Huntress-Queen's desire for the chaos of nature."

The demigoddess stood and yielded to her patron's demand, walking in the direction she was told to go. Across the mountains, to the other side of the continent, where a young queen rallied her people, and made ready to wage a war to consolidate her power, and her people, under her ideology.

 

[Solar Mechanis]

I like these background chapters and the mystery of what it has to do with the main plot. I have half formed ideas, but I look forward to seeing the payoff.

Small note. You have 2 ch. 41's.

 

[charclone]

I like these background chapters and the mystery of what it has to do with the main plot. I have half formed ideas, but I look forward to seeing the payoff.

Small note. You have 2 ch. 41's.

Fixed, thank you.

Not all of it has been revealed, but I'll give you a hint, there is a reason that the Huntress-Queen is not present in the, uh, present. Could have worded that better, but I'm tired.

Go ahead an post those theories though. I already had my beta reader (Leechblade on SB) guess... rather close to what is going to happen.

 

[ATP]

more mysteries from the past.Good,but not overdo that.
I read "Skeleton Soldier" manga,where after 225 chapters we still do not knew what kind of ancient conspiracy he is fighting.
Which is slighty funny.

 

[charclone]

more mysteries from the past.Good,but not overdo that.
I read "Skeleton Soldier" manga,where after 225 chapters we still do not knew what kind of ancient conspiracy he is fighting.
Which is slighty funny.

Only like... at most three flashback chapters? With current plans, anyway.

But seriously? 225 chapters and you know nothing of the ancient conspiracy? At that point, I'd assume the author has about the same amount of plans for the conspiracy's future that the Cylons did in nuBSG, which is to say none at all.

 

[ATP]

Only like... at most three flashback chapters? With current plans, anyway.

But seriously? 225 chapters and you know nothing of the ancient conspiracy? At that point, I'd assume the author has about the same amount of plans for the conspiracy's future that the Cylons did in nuBSG, which is to say none at all.

I only knew,that there is ancient conspiracy plaing both gods and demons from MC world,and that they COULD be human players,and his world some kind of Game.
But,i am still not sure if he is NPC or not.

Entire plot is still plausible,becouse dude keep dying and coming back to past.Well,rather being destroyed,he is skeleton after all.
He try to save one of his Mistress,but they keep dying under his watch,too.
P.S not lovers,he try to guard them.

 

[charclone]

A.N. Heh, almost forgot to put this through Grammarly.

---

The hammer came down on the hot metal, pounding it into shape.

The pounding was rhythmic, as the pneumatic machine worked the metal, guided by Richard as he angled the cherry-hot metal rod.

The heat and noise were hardly what he called therapeutic, but the simplicity of the task was something he enjoyed. There was no risk beyond that to himself by his own mistakes. No fear of putting who knows how many at risk. Just him, the metal, and the work.

A knock sounded.

Richard sighed and pulled the metal from the machine. He inspected it, noting that it was warping the wrong way. He shrugged and placed it back in the furnace. It was a flaw he could manage.

"You wanted to see me?" Hannah gave him a look, standing at the doorway. It vanished a moment later under a teasing smirk. "Why was that blacksmith looking so appalled when I went by him, by the way?"

"Because, apparently, only the League Principality lets its nobles forge their own arms and armour. He thought I was insulted at the quality of his work." Richard rolled his eyes as he took the gloves off. "To be fair, his work isn't exactly high standard, but that's more to do with the fact that the metal he is used to working with was crap. It's workable though."

"So, who's forge is this then?"

"Mine, shared with a couple of NATO soldiers who do metalwork." Richard shrugged. "No idea why my name is on it, but if that means I can use it, I will. The equipment is… I think some of it was donated by the machine shop."

Hannah shook her head. It seemed the eldritch workings of NATO's bureaucracy were beyond even Sir Richard.

"Anyway, what was it you wanted to talk to me about?"

"Right, so, I noticed a lot of the Warrior Bunnies have been wearing and ordering blades. Would it be… appropriate, if I were to forge and gift Tara one?" He pulled a piece of paper off a bench and showed it to her. "I based it on a kukri knife and a more traditional blade of your people I was shown."

The drawing was that of a blade, slightly longer than a traditional Warrior Bunny blade. The edge bulged out, not far past the handle, curving slightly along its back end. It was a savage-looking blade, with plenty of weight for slashing, but still enough of a point to stab with.

"Was that what you were working in?"

"Nah, was going to try for a decorative khopesh." At her confused look, Richard explained. "A hooked sword, similar to an axe. Used by an ancient culture."

"I… see." Hannah did not. "Anyway, it would be seen as romantic, as well as practical. Anyone that would have an issue with it would be more likely to be part of one of the various anti-NATO factions anyway, and picking at straws."

Richard grinned.

"Thanks."

"You work metal often?"

"I helped make my blade and armour myself," Richard says proudly. "Pounded the metal into shape, and I was the one to put the edge on the sword. I've made several by myself since then."

Hannah rubbed her hands together.

"Would… you be willing to make something for me?" She asked, eyes practically glittering.

"Do you have something in mind?" He asked. "It could be something I could use as a smokescreen to surprise Tara."

Hannah rubbed her chin.

"I prefer longer blades than the usual knives… so how about a sword? How long would it take?"

"I can make a decent sword in a day, but I can make both of them by the festival." He cocked his head to the side in thought. "Though, that can depend on the metal, and size of the blade."

"Eh, something like an arming sword." Hannah shrugged.

"Broadsword, katana, wakizashi, sabre, cutlass, falchion, Jian, backsword, spatha, gladius…" Richard rattled off the types of swords he knew.

Hannah gave him a blank look.

"What kind of swords are you used to using?" Richard smiled sardonically at her.

"Oh, uh." Hannah blinked. "Saderan blades, mostly. My people have a longer version of our knives made for hacking, and... uh, oh!"

Her expression transformed into one of realisation and excitement.

"There was this strange sword I found once, it was old and rusted." She picked up a pencil and began to draw on the back of the paper with the design of Tara's knife on it. "It was curved and belonged to a human soldier that got lost in our lands, joining our tribe after he couldn't find his way home. It looked like this."

The blade was bowed, though the point ended in line with the hilt, which itself was protected by some form of basket.

"It was still good enough to train with. I loved the way it was so light but could also slash so well. It broke when I was young, but a replacement would be great." Hannah beamed. "So, do you think you could make a sword like this?"

Richard shrugged.

"Looks like a cavalry sabre." He noted. "Yeah, I can make that pretty easily. Was the hilt curved or straight?"

"Curved, but only slightly."

"Alright." Richard made a note on the paper. "Might take a little longer, especially if I want to do something fancy with it, such as making it good in a fight."

He scratched his chin.

"Festival is in a week, right?"

"Eight days."

"Alright. In that case, I can get it done, but don't expect anything fancy, like decoration." He gestured to the machines around him, plugged into the Alnus power grid. "Most of these are time savers for the forging, not for decoration work. I can do a simple engraving though."

"That's fine. I want a working weapon anyway, not some fancy noble's toy." She bounced on her heels. "Thank you."

"No problem, just don't make people think I'll do this for free, I use it as stress relief half the time." He paused. "Hey, what's Tara up to anyway?"

---

"No! We are not going to ask NATO for prisoners to sacrifice!" Tara screamed at the poor sod that had been used as a messenger by one of the traditionalist factions. "They wouldn't accept, and it would damage our relations."

"Well, we certainly can't have that." Radya yawned. "I'm impressed that they gave you funding for this Lady Tara."

Tara glared at the older woman next to her. The council, such as it was, had decided or rather failed to oppose, the two of them being put in charge of the festival.

It was driving Tara crazy, and not just because of Radya's lazy attempts to sabotage her efforts.

"Oh, don't give me that look." The matron waved her hand. "I want to see our culture survive as well. Now, with that idiocy out of the way, what about a… tournament? Not just some sports competitions, though we should have those, but some duels. Not blood sports, but… well, it would do well if we were to, say, win a few rounds against Pina's knights."

The derision in the old hag's tone when she mentioned the Order of Rose Knights made clear her distaste for the concept.

"As long as you make sure there are no… accidents." Tara wanted to scrub her tongue with steel wool. Protecting Pina's knights seemed wrong, but at the same time, simply letting Radya kill a few of them would get everyone in trouble. Her attempts at subtly were just below blatant.

"Of course, I'll take charge of that." Rayna wore a false smile. "Dishonesty has no place here, it's meant to be a tribute to the gods, and our people, after all. Unlike the Saderan senate, treachery is not our way."

Tara shook her head.

"Now, there was a written suggestion, with a plan for food stalls. A way to display our 'culinary arts', as the note put it." She stretched in her chair. "NATO has safety standards that would need to be enforced, but they would also be willing to help in that area. More than a few have volunteered to help cook as well."

Rayna snorted.

"Soldiers of any type will never turn away free food." She laughed. "Fine. You have a good relationship with them, so you can manage that. I'll put Madira in charge of selecting the judges for both. Her tribe is gone, so she won't be biased. Now, the Weeping Woods tribe wants to have several types of dances..."

 

[Solar Mechanis]

I think the old guy in service to Palapon is looking into the story of the elf that has the hots for her friend from Greece. We also see Emroy as a demigod in service to the god of order.

I don't know the correlation to the present though. I guess the warrior bunnies had a kingdom once upon a time, but were punished by their God for being too soft. Now that Richard and Tara are restructuring the leftover bunny people it could be seen as them becoming civilized and the huntress-queen getting mad and sending another demigod to try and mess things up.

I look forward to seeing Richard the Rabbit King fight the gods.

 

[ATP]

Slice of life,romance and poliitics.For Richard,it is normal day.As well,as for Tara.
They should arleady marry and have puppies!

 

[charclone]

The senate building was an august and ancient edifice of Sadera. It had stood since the start of the Empire, lasting through rebellions, wars, fires, and coups. It had been renovated many times, each time making it more grand than the last. It was, in the eyes of many, a symbol of the Empire itself, the wises and richest of the Empire united within a single circular wall, to guide the course of the nation.

The truth was a little different, of course.

"Obviously the barbarians have altered the Princesses letters!"

"But what of the rumours that she has been captured? The letters could be faked!"

"They were delivered by Imperial wyverns from Italica!"

"We should rally the Praetorian Guard and several new legions and crush the Barbarians, not be negotiating with them!"

"Drive them from Sacred Alnus!"

"And what of the legions we have already lost!?"

Molt Sol Augustus had expected his decision to send his daughter to cause chaos in the Senate. The girl had been too sheltered, and she knew it. She wanted the ability to prove herself. He didn't regret giving it to her. The information she had already sent back was beyond what he expected.

"Vengeance for the slain! We shall send them to Hardy's domain, to honour our own sent to Emroy!"

He had shared edited copies of the letters, omitting things the Senate didn't need to know, such as personal details, or the fact that she feared he had kicked the sleeping dragon. He may have given assent to the invasion, but it was his sons that had pushed for it, and funded it. Let them lie in the beds they had made. Perhaps one would prove capable of leading the Empire after this was over?

"Are you implying her highness is competent!? Might I remind you she was the one who organised her own Order of Knights! They held Italica against the rebels!"

"Rebels!? They were our own people, seeking to return a rogue city-state to our fold! That child countess should be executed for the murder of Imperial soldiers and nobles! She's a kinslayer!"

"Kinslayer, perhaps, but what choice did she have!? Her sisters were going to kill her, and it was Princess Pina's advice to her to execute them! It has Imperial support!"

"Imperial Support!? They were married to my grandnephews! My family is descended from Emperor Bulla the second!"

"Who's lineage was removed from the throne by vote of the Senate!"

"An overstep of power!"

It would seem that now was the time to step in, before it completely went out of control.

Molt stood.

"Esteemed Senators! Distinguished patriarchs and noble veterans!" He gestured to all of them, his voice echoing about the chamber as the senators fell silent, arranged in a semi-circle around him, following the curve of the building. "It was with assent of the Senate that Princess Pina was made Praetor Peregrinus. She was thus sent out, first to Italica, and then to Alnus, to fulfill the duties the Senate had charged her with. Is that assent now being withdrawn?"

"A vote!" One senator called out, as another made to stand. "Such must be voted on."

Molt kept his face impassive as the vote was made and counted. And failed. Miserably.

"Augustus!" The senator who had demanded it be voted on stood and saluted. "Your loyal senate has, in accordance with old traditions, weighed and found that the Praetor Peregrinus shall remain!"

Molt nodded. The senate knew who ruled, as it had been since the early days.

"Then, with the losses that we have suffered, we shall pursue peace. It shall not last, as no peace does, but we knew too little of our barbaric foe, even with my daughter amidst their camp. We know not the names of their kings, what they value, nor why they have taken Sacred Alnus. Thus we must delay fighting, whilst we learn and uncover their weaknesses, and their strengths. In time, they shall become our strengths! The power to crush legions! But for now…"

Molt took a breath. He heard, in the distance, a servant doing as ordered, speaking with Zorzal, who was easily the loudest of the two. Filling him in on what the Senate was going to, or, rather, had already discussed, and being slow enough about it that Zorzal would have no chance to make a fool of himself before the meeting was over, neatly circumventing the risk of him shaming himself or the Imperial family. Again.

"For now, we must rebuild our strength, before we once more clash with our barbaric foe." He finished.

As the Senate session closed, he mused at how Pina could have twisted things to her advantage. With mere words, she had cost the Empire nothing, and gained a respite. Time to learn and build. Even better, she had established some diplomatic ties, and learned things about their foes strengths.

Alas, she had devoted herself to her Knightly Order, rather than sparing any effort on politics. Thus, she had no allies to spread news of her successes. She was young, and had time, but it would be one of her half-brothers that took the Throne. At least she would not be reduced to political irrelevance, to be used as a pawn by other factions. She was too virtuous for that. Too iron willed.

Molt stood from the throne and left the Senate chambers.

He snorted, finally able to hear Zorzal's words now that he was closer. Zorzal was trying to impress the servant with his three years old martial exploits. Aside from funding a punitive strike against a slave rebellion a year ago, he had done nothing martial since. At least he had delayed himself in the process.

Molt sighed as he walked past the two. Three, he corrected himself. Zorzal had taken to showing off Tyuule again. It was unbecoming for a man to hold to past glories like that. A quiet word would be ignored or falsely misunderstood, and anything direct would incite backlash from his son's allies in the Senate, leaving Molt without any recourse to correct his arrogant child.

Still, Molt's mood was not ruined.

He had gained what he wanted from the meeting. None of the senators had revealed, or displayed that they knew, the information he had hidden from his daughter's letters.

Good.

It meant that at least Bouro was being honest with him on this, for now, and that none of his political enemies were reading his mail. There was still the question of what Bouro's game was, however. He had altered letters before, from Zorzal's campaign, to make the princes seem more competent than he really was, letters that were used by Molt's son's supporters to boost his popularity in the city.

There had been senators and nobles that had suffered… accidents, or in one case, outright mobbed in a riot. It happened rarely, but Molt saw the patterns. It was too careful, yet also too bloody, compared to the usual games the nobility and patricians played.

Yet, so far, it had provided no clues to Molt as to what the creature's goal was.

Fortunately, Molt was not an idiot.

He had access to other sources of information. Old campaign allies, friends among the common soldiers that had retired, people who owed favours. Like pieces on a gameboard, really. Molt sometimes felt that joke, from a recent play, was a little too accurate in this situation.

Move and counter move. Guessing to what your opponent's strategy and goals are.

As Molt stepped into the carriage, that would carry him the short distance to his palace, he made note to write to some of those old friends. Pina and her knights were outside of the usual political games, and untainted by Bouro's connections. He would send a message to her, with carefully constructed orders.

Involving outsiders, especially barbarians, in Imperial politics was dangerous at the best of times, but Molt considered his daughter smart enough not to involve them. She would be a useful, and valuable piece. Her current lack of political ambitions would likewise be an asset.

The next day, a retired soldier would purchase passage on a wagon. He was a man of little note, having served quietly. The only incident of note was in his youth, unknown by all, when he and a young Molt, then the third prince of the Empire, slipped out of their assigned camp using the Molt's authority as prince. Their adventure would not last long, only a day, ended by a narrowly escaped assassination attempt none would know of besides the two of them, the perpetrators being buried a year later.

The soldier was far from a close friend of the Emperor, but he was good at keeping his mouth shut, skilled with a blade, and loyal to his emperor.

If any checked his letters, they would see only a letter from the Emperor rewarding their old friendship by paying off his debts, in exchange for him assisting with training his daughter's knights in his style of bladework.

It was even mostly true. The debts had been exaggerated, the man could have easily paid them off, but he was a loyal soldier, even in his later years.

Within his mind was another message. It was, in the end, simple. An encouragement to his daughter to become more involved in the politics of the Empire, as was her duty, and more importantly, to listen.

The Emperor did not fear the war restarting before he was ready, but he knew he had more enemies inside the court than outside. When his daughter returned, she would be heralded as a hero. But she would also be used. With no political connections, she would be reliant on her father. With no political ambitions, she would not overstep. With her knights, her reach was further than she realised.

Such as Emperor Molt's thoughts, unaware that his messages were behind. Unaware that his daughter feared the war restarting at any point. Unaware that she had her own designs now.

Unaware that it was more than just Bouro and the patricians that were watching and playing against him.

 

[ATP]

Zorzal think,that he is player but is played.The same goes for Molt.So,both would lost.
Which do not mean,that Pina would win.
P.S Is there any oil there? if so,USA MUST LIBERATE IT !!!!

 

[charclone]

A.N. Nope, not story isn't dead. Just have exams coming up. That slows things down, and chapter 49 was fighting me.

Anyway, here is chapter 46. Oops, wrong chapter. This time it's chapter 46.

---

In place of the shows and plays normally put on, Tara had decided that movies from Earth would do well. Her justification was that the tribes that normally migrated with the season, and would carry and perform the shows and plays… weren't exactly able to do so, being either dead or enslaved. A handful of members from those tribes were present, having come with the escaped slaves, either joining with them or having participated in their rebellions.

But those handfuls were far from able to put on plays.

Thus, an alternative was needed. Some of the traditional plays and shows were impossible to put on or replace, on account of them lacking the usual performers. But it was far from unheard of to go for a season or two without the traditional plays and performances.

Still, that left them needing some form of entertainment, which was a tradition in the festival.

The issue was what to show. What movies would be shown?

There had been enough support for some, like the Star Wars series and Braveheart, and Tara wanted to use Zulu. But there had been a great clamour about what other films should be shown, what shouldn't (Tara had forbidden pornographic films, as they did not serve the purpose of the festival) and who had the authority.

Someone's joking suggestion of MacBeth had not been appreciated. She and Richard had watched it together, so she knew what the anonymous smartass was suggesting. She did not want to be queen.

Tara groaned at yet another request for something stupid.

"No. I can see about you having an area for private use set up if there are others that will ask for such, but no, I will not bar non-Warrior Bunnies from participating or at least observing the festival." Honestly, the idea that they should bar people from the festival, just because one tribe did it, which was on the opposite border from the Imperials and warred mostly with the Elven Kingdom to the North, was idiotic. Though, the tribes from the Bay of Blood, named for the constant warfare with the elves in the area, were always considered a little odd. "None of the other Tribes bar outsiders from their festivals. Why should I favour your clan over the other clans and tribes?"

The woman huffed and walked off without a further word.

Tara rolled her eyes.

"Okay, now, who else had something they wanted to suggest…" Tara blinked at the identity of the next person asking to talk to her about ideas for the festival. "Lady… Bozes Co Palesti, was it not?"

"That is correct, Lady Tara." The blonde knight quietly glared at Tara, even as she kept her tone polite. "I was hoping to inquire if a… martial competition, could be made at least adjacent to the festival?"

"There are several ways out people honour Emroy. I don't see a reason why not, but I am curious as to why you want to be part of it." Tara frowned. "My people had reason to hate the empire."

"The knights with me, we are… out of practice. And all our teachers were Imperials." Bozes' glare gained a slight grin. "A chance to test ourselves against people who would not hold back, besides it being for sport, would benefit both. As long your people do not violate hospitality, I think they would appreciate a chance to fairly test themselves against us."

Tara blinked.

Part of her was suspicious. Why would Bozes want to get into a fight, wasn't she part of Pina's honour guard? Was this part of some plan? But no, they were establishing a peace treaty, and Pina seemed to be for it. Was it part of some internal byzantine Saderan political gamble by the Princess?

It was starting to make Tara's head hurt. She abandoned trying to puzzle out the intrigue of the knight.

"I will discuss it with the others." She said. "I can't make any promises, but I will let you know before the festival starts."

Bozes nodded, before leaving.

Tara blinked and sighed once she was out of sight. She held her head in her hands.

"Great, another thing to organise." She groaned.

---

Richard blinked as she placed a large stack of forms on his desk.

"Things I am requesting from NATO," Tara explained. A moment later, she yawned. "Sorry, I've been up all day without a break."

"That busy?"

"Yes." Tara bluntly stated. "This is part of why I don't want to be queen. It's so much work, on top of the same amount of stress as being a royal guard."

"Do you have subordinates to help you with it?" He asked, reaching out and rubbing her back.

Tara moved out of reach in response, pulling his chair away from the desk so she could sit in his lap. The Lt. doing paperwork, part of the Alnus community garrison and bureaucracy, snickered quietly, and quietly slipped away, finding an excuse to leave them alone for a little while.

After a moment, Tara answered his question, mumbling into his shoulder.

"No. Are you offering?"

"I'd love to help, but I'm also rather busy." That part of his time was being eaten forging the blade for her he carefully didn't mention. "But I have recruited a couple of locals. I could lend Lelei, she's… disturbingly familiar with NATO's forms, but has been assisting me with slowly taking over the Long Patrol legally, alongside some people from NATO. Plus, sorting out the issue of who owns Alnus."

He snorted.

"Got a computer and some stuff, with some games, sent to Countess Myui. Now she is trying to support my 'claim' to Alnus as my fief. I think King Duran has also joked about it… at least, I hope he was joking."

"I just… it's stressful, dealing with all the remnants of the tribes. So many are interested in seeing their versions of the traditions displayed, many only half remember them, and others are arguing about whether or not those versions should be used." Tara sighed and snuggled tighter to Richard. "There are so many different versions of our traditions, and… no one is agreeing about which should be used. There was even a fight about it."

"Ouch."

"So… yes. I think I would appreciate the help." Tara stretched.

The door swung open.

"Sorry to interrupt, but there was a riot." The Lt. reported, sticking his head back in. "Should probably go check on it."

Tara groaned as she leapt off Richard's lap, letting him stand and reach for his badge of office.

"What happened?" They both asked at the same time, before glancing at each other. Richard snorted as Tara smiled. He swung the sheath onto his back.

"Squad that intervened only got there once it had started. A couple of the Long Patrol were pulling combatants apart." The Lt. explained as they hurried out the door and down the stairs. "All combatants were Warrior Bunnies, and there was… one of the leaders that was caught up in it. Her name wasn't reported, she was knocked out and sent off to the hospital once the Brits got everyone isolated and cowed."

"Damn," Richard swore and Tara cursed under her breath in her native tongue.

---

When they arrived, they at least noted that seemed to be over.

"What happened?" Richard demanded as he broke off to talk to the Long Patrol members. Best to act the part of their commander, even if it felt wrong.

Tara crossed her arms and glared at the groups of Warrior Bunnies under guard.

"Sergeant, could you explain what you saw when it started?" The Lt. asked.

"Yessir." The British man answered. "We had just passed through this street a few minutes ago, passing the first group who had been standing around talking. Didn't catch what they were saying at the time. We heard sudden shouts and yells. I ordered my unit to turn around and called it in. We arrived in short order, and the Long Patrol men had already been on the street when it happened…"

---

"So, in short, the second group dashed out of the alley and attacked the first with fists, who defended themselves, and Matron Radya who happened to be passing by, and when the Long Patrol saw it happen, they rushed to intervene." Richard summed up. "When the British soldiers arrived, their presence was enough to take the fight out of both groups, who surrendered."

Tara bit her tongue to keep from screaming at the idiots being led away by the MPs.

"Well, at least it's simple enough." The Lt sighed. "Course, it means more paperwork for all of us. And I'll need to inform the general. Again, now that we know what happened. Does anyone know why they attacked in the first place?"

"I recognise a few of them." Tara sighed. "Different tribes, but the group of attackers were part of the raiding tribes, most of them migratory, and the ones attacked were mostly from heartland tribes. Not all though. I'm willing to bet that this is related to our… lack of purpose."

"Alright, I'll make a note of that." The Lt sighed as he recorded it. "MPs will probably want to talk about it more in detail as they investigate, but that can wait until tomorrow. Good news, Matron Radya isn't hurt too badly, sprained leg and a nasty bruise on her head, but she'll recover."

Tara made a sound of relief.

"For a moment I was worried I'd have to run the festival myself."

The Lt winced.

"Ah… about that, the festival is in two days, correct?"

"Yes… she won't be out of the hospital by then, will she?"

The Lt shook his head.

"Four days, they want to make sure they aren't making any mistakes, due to assumptions about her having the same physiology as humans."

"I think her father was an elf, actually." Tara groaned. Her groan redoubled when she heard the Lt. radio that fact into the hospital.

---

Radya, once she woke up, agreed with Tara. It was an… unacceptable situation.

'Now, Tara and her faction will be the dominant ones, able to dictate what traditions will survive.' She seethed internally. 'All because those youthful idiots couldn't provoke a fight like I told them, and then listen to me when I 'reigned them in before anyone was seriously hurt'. No, they just decided to rush in and attack anyone they saw. Even blaming me and the other heartlanders for the fall of the Kingdom! It was Tyuule's treachery, no matter what lies Tara spreads.'

Weeks of planning, down the drain, because of another's stupidity.

'Bah, this is why we should be sticking to our old traditions. Not letting NATO dictate the laws we have to live under. If I was Queen, I'd weld all the tribes back together, using NATO's tyranny, then get them to crush the Empire. That general is like other men, all the soldiers are, and it wouldn't even be hard. We'd even have a more diverse bloodline because of it, recouping some of the losses Tyuule inflicted on us with her betrayal.'

 

[ATP]

Well,it is nice to knew,that bunnies could be idiots,too.
Aside from that - Happy Easter !

 

[charclone]

A.N. Not dead. Just had exams, same with my other stories.

---

"So, this is where you disappear too!"

Richard looked up from the anvil at the source of the voice.

"Your majesty." He greeted King Duran before resuming the shaping of the metal. "Problem with the hand?"

"No! It's wonderful." The portly King grinned beneath his thick beard. "So, what's this you are forging?"

"Bits and pieces of an experiment. A couple of scientists were messing with local metal, and asked me to try and forge a sword for them." Richard guided the piece back into the forge. "Just messing with the supposedly 'magic' metal to get a feel with it."

"Oh? What are you used to using?"

"Steel, aluminium, iron, and bronze mostly." Richard shrugged. "Done a bit of copper plating on a shield once."

"Hmm." The Elben King hummed. "You forged your own arms then?"

"Mostly. A lot of the initial work was done by my teachers, but yes, I have done a lot of the forging, especially for my swords." Richard wiped his forehead. "So, how can I help?"

"I wanted to reward you for the arm," Duran explained. "But, well, there are… differences between our cultures. As I understand it, your government would need to first approve any title I wanted to give you?"

"Ah, yes." Richard blinked and fumbled. "A title is a bit much for a prosthetic."

"Well, you also humbled the Empire." Duran's grin turned savage. "In addition, the history and design for the arm would merit at least a minor honourary title. But your nation's laws complicate things. So, how about a suit of armour?"

Richard blinked, partly in confusion.

"I'll pay for it to be refitted to you, but your usual armour is rather… plain for a parade." Duran's grin grew wider. "I have a suit in my armoury I think that would suit you rather well."

"Why?" Richard blurted out. He winced but pressed on. "While I understand wanting to… reward me, the arm was a gift, and knowledge is best shared, lest it disappear. Not to mention a suit of armour, well, I'm well aware of how expensive those can be."

Duran laughed.

"Why not? Besides, I have plenty of suits of armour, and even if it was a gift, I still owe you. It is how things are done." Duran chuckled. "A king must be seen rewarding those that have done them a favour, even if that favour was done as a gift."

Richard sighed.

"Also, I was hoping I could invite you to my court as a guest, for a short while." Duran went on. "Partially, I want to foster relations between our nations. Partially, well, we are no longer a vassal of the Empire. Molt acknowledged our release a week ago, as part of the peace efforts between NATO and the Empire."

Richard wanted to ask how that worked, but he held his tongue, as King Duran continued, and the metal in the furnace had reached an appropriate temperature. He fed the cherry red bar into the hydraulic hammer.

"It would do both of us well to be seen as friends," Duran explained. "I have also heard rumours of you being given command officially of the Long Patrol."

"Yes, it's going to be announced at the start of the festival tomorrow." Richard shrugged.

"Well, as it happens, I have more than a few people that would be interested in joining. Your General told me about it when we negotiated the sale of Elbe grain. My people would be able to supply a small war chest."

"War chest, for what?"

"Building an army is hardly cheap." Duran frowned, his tone admonishing.

"NATO is footing part of the bill. Alnus is covering another part." Richard shook his head. "The Long Patrol is mostly going to be used to protect the area, it's not an offensive force."

Duran hummed.

"Still, the additional funds would help you. And as I said, I want to reward you, and foster relations. I can discuss it with General Jameson if that will avoid complications."

"I think that would be best, yes." Richard looked over the hammered metal. "Huh. More malleable than I was expecting when heated, but takes a lot to get to the right temperature."

"Ah, dragonsteel?"

"One of the names for it, yeah. Still melts despite the name, and is chemically just treated iron." Richard snorted. "Saw a couple of scientists pulling their hair out over it. Still, it somehow has a higher melting point than iron."

---

"New sword?" Tara blinked as Hannah inspected it.

"Yup. Convinced Richard to forge it for me." The cavalry sabre flashed in the midday sun as she moved through the motions. "The balance is amazing."

"Hmm. Maybe I should get him to make me a new blade." Tara pondered.

"I'm sure he'd do it if you asked," Hannah replied, smugness creeping into her tone.

"You planning to join the tournament the Order of the Rose requested?"

"Yup. So, how are things going with the festival, everything in place for tomorrow?"

Hannah's blade cut through the air.

"As can be. Richard's people helped a lot, which made Radya's injury less than a hindrance. Apparently, she had mismanaged some of the funds, overpaying for a couple of supplies NATO was already supplying."

"Really? Yikes." Hannah sheathed the sword, making a note to make more time to practice. The tournament wasn't until the end of the festival, at the end of the week, so she had time. Hannah blinked. Tara's voice sounded… off. "You okay?"

"Just tired." Tara leaned against the fence of what had become a sparring area. "Not sleeping well, Richard says it's probably stress."

Hannah hummed in thought.

"Well, how about we take some time to have some fun during the festival? Once it starts, you don't need to keep an eye on it, right?"

"No, I need to be present for some things, like if there is an emergency, but it follows the common style shared by all the tribes: Two feasts, one at the start, the other at the end. A couple of dances, and rituals, and in the place of the plays we are having some movies. Games will take place throughout, and I have set up some groups to judge the games as necessary." Tara yawned. "Richard is busy getting the Long Patrol set up, and Major Johnston is going to be teaching him some things, so he is only going to be available for part of the festival."

"Ah, and that is also putting you in a bad mood because you want to be able to spend the festival with him."

"That, and because… there is still no agreement about what we should do. If we should create a new government, elect a monarchy, even if they aren't pureblooded, or if we should head to Earth as individual tribes and settle there. It's also stressing me."

Hannah nodded.

"I… still think you should be queen. We've had our disagreements, but who else would be put? Radya? Please, the idiot is hardly quiet about her revanchism."

"Revanchism? What, did you accidentally eat a dictionary?"

"Oh, shut up. I'm still learning English, alright? Doesn't help that there are big differences between American and British English."

"… seriously though, what does revanchism mean? I've never heard Richard use the word."

 

[ATP]

Vote for Richard&Tara !
Seriously,if they lived in Poland,i would vote for them.

 

[charclone]

Tara's heart beat in her chest in time with the drums. Most of them were not traditional ones, instead borrowed or donated through NATO, but that was fine. It was hardly the first time a tribe used foreign drums.

Rather than stand with the drummers, or the dancers as they moved around the long tables, Tara found herself seated at the head table, alongside what remained of her people's leadership.

Part of her wished she was instead part of the honour guard. Things were simpler then.

As the festival went on, and the dancers finished, the main bonfire was lit, illuminating the prepared outdoor area as the last rays of the sun vanished, meant to symbolise the ending of summer. Food was brought out, laid down along the tables, and soon, the feast began.

A mix of local and Earth cuisine was being served, but Tara found her appetite absent. She merely picked at her food.

"Not to your tastes?"

Tara glanced at Madira in the seat to her left.

"I'm… glad that nothing has gone wrong yet, but…"

"But 'yet' is the key word, isn't it?" The young Elder chuckled. "Relax. I'm sure something will go wrong, some drink will get spilled on someone, there will be a fight, but nothing catastrophic will go wrong. You can handle it."

Tara merely grunted in response.

"Or is it that Richard is busy, and unable to attend the feast?" Madira grinned. "Ah, that's it, isn't it? I'm surprised. I'd have thought you'd be more… possessive of him, considering how some of the girls usually act… and are acting, with alcohol during the festival."

Tara followed Madira's gaze. She sighed at the sight; one of the Warrior Bunnies that had danced as part of the ancient tradition was already deep in her cups, sitting in the lap of a NATO soldier, the both of them laughing.

"She's drunk already?"

"Well, it is the NATO supplied stuff she was drinking. That is rather strong from what I have heard." Madira answered with a shrug. "Anyway, what is Richard up to?"

Tara groaned.

"You are going to pester me about it the whole time, aren't you?"

"Yup. The old biddy on your other side is deaf as a bat and to focused on her food."

The elder on Tara's other side raised a hand, in a fashion Tara had seen NATO soldiers do to each other, with only one finger raised, pointing upwards, and the rest curled, without looking up from her rapidly diminishing pile of food. Madira laughed.

"Fine." Tara sighed. "He's off with some other soldiers and officers discussing how to run the Long Patrol. An abbreviated officer school was how Major Johnston phrased it."

"I see. Off to learn how to be a general?"

"Something like that." Tara grunted. "Anyway, any thoughts on the number of our people that are looking to join it?"

"Hmm." Madira hummed for a moment in thought. "Not really. I'd join up myself if I wasn't busy trying to keep our culture from dying. Recording it in books was a good idea."

"Really? Why?"

"Harder to lose, easier to make copies, and books don't get destroyed, or charge into battle drunk." Madira gave Tara an exaggerated flat look. "Oh, you meant why I'd want to join?"

Tara rolled here eyes and chewed on a piece of chicken.

"Honestly, I feel our war with the Empire is unfinished. We aren't dead, and we didn't give up. Broken, but not defeated." Madira shrugged. "If NATO won't use us as regular soldiers, then at least as part of their auxiliaries we have a chance."

"The Long Patrol is just to police Alnus."

"And if the peace breaks down? Do you really believe it will just sit there? No. Armies exist to fight after all." Madira shrugged. "Not that it matters. Richard will have command and I suspect you will as well."

The older woman grinned at Tara.

"Am I wrong?"

Tara stuffed food in her face rather than answer in an attempt to hide the blush.

It was amusing, Madira noted, that while sexual innuendo and topics were not causes for blushing, as they were with most of the NATO soldiers and civilians, talk of relations, romance, and attraction could be a source of embarrassment.

---

Pina collapsed into the bed.

Meeting after meeting she had expected. She had even expected the attention to detail. What she had not expected was the 'media'. They had been incessant, constantly asking questions far too fast for her to understand what they were saying, and they appeared everywhere she went. The constant flashing of lights from the 'cameras' had been getting on her nerves.

Fortunately, her job was mostly done. An initial treaty, along with a list of prisoners that would be released as a show of faith with no ransom demands. The treaty would need to be looked at by her father, of course, and the senate, but the prisoners were being released and transported shortly after she would leave Alnus.

Stripping away the dross and language, the treaty was simply an agreement to halt hostilities, discuss at an agreed upon location future peace settlements, and return prisoners. Armies would not advance towards each other's lines, nor would any taken territory be returned.

The loss of several vassals would hurt the Empire, but her father had already considered them lost anyway when he had sent her. The last report they had received, from across the Blue Sea, had told tales of the united vassal armies being crushed amidst seas of fire and metal monsters.

Pina worried about the ransoms of the remaining prisoners, but she had been able to secure the released of several key individuals. Men that held influence, but would not be worth too much ransom, to avoid antagonising NATO at the loss of profit. People that Pina felt she could trust to agree that the war needed to end, as well as a few members of her order that had been conscripted by their families for the invasion. A handful of her bothers' people had also been selected, hopefully to act as favours for later.

It tasted bitter, to use such underhanded tactics. She had grown up yearning to be a knight and follow a code of conduct and honour. To have comrades she could trust at her side.

A knock sounded at her door.

"Enter." Pina sat up and adjuster her clothes for any wrinkles.

"Princess…" A young member of the order entered, bowing in a stiff and formal manner. "My apologies to disturb you at this late hour, but… Lady Bozes had put forward a challenge to the Warrior Bunnies and NATO."

Pina paled.

"It is organised as a tournament, but I fear she has overstepped her position."

"When will the tournament take place?"

"After the Warrior Bunnies festival, a week from today."

Pina sighed, feeling the headache coming.

"I see. Thank you. Inform Lady Bozes that I wish to speak to her in the morning."

 

[Solar Mechanis]

No one gets to be happy at the party, is how I'd summarize this chapter. Well the common soldier / citizen are having a good time, but not the people at the top or perceived top.

 

[ATP]

Interesting,how it end for Pina vice here.Death,or american husband? why not both ?

 

[charclone]

Interesting,how it end for Pina vice here.Death,or american husband? why not both ?

Nope. A Czech! lol.

But in all seriousness, romance isn't the main focus for this story, so I won't be focusing too hard on it, not do I have any plans for that sort of thing with other characters.

 

[ATP]

Nope. A Czech! lol.

But in all seriousness, romance isn't the main focus for this story, so I won't be focusing too hard on it, not do I have any plans for that sort of thing with other characters.

As you should.Gate have good start,but what in my opinion made it less interesting then it could be was Itami harem,and girlfriends for other japaneese.

P.S Czech is not bad choice,if he is rich enough.And, it is logical - Czech like beer,Beer is kind of boze,so they should love Lady Bozes !