Duchess Edusa watches the woman leave with an assured but alert gait. She has a sour feeling in her mouth and some embarrassment because of the words she left which prevent her from turning to Idali.

Edusa played it casual but, when her eyes fell on that ring, her stomach sunk and she immediately knew that her liege returned to the woman who caused her such pain she ran into Elizabeth Vil's arms.

Yet, she can understand Lance because of what Jessica Freepath went through to guide these runaways to Hetlan. It must have been excruciating to be on constant alert for battle during several weeks with none to rely on to fight.

“How did the two of you meet?” Edusa asks in a whisper.

“She was in Meria when it fell, and guided me after...” Idali trails off.

Edusa wonders in what way she could have guided her but then understands that Freepath's connection to Elizabeth Vil means she likely knows quite a bit about the Rykz parasite, like the size and effects of it.

“She left as soon as possible, does she dislike me?” The Duchess asks, hoping that she'll get to talk to Jessica in private.

“Honestly? She seemed rather warm there.” Idali replies with an awkward smile.

--- --- ---

A dozen kilometers north-east of Port-Odo is a plain with thousands of tents arranged in rows that the Hospitaliers set at the end of winter to lodge those who responded to honorary Duchess Lance's call to arms.

It stayed organized until people arrived with their luggage at which point life took over. Now there are tents blocking paths and cooking fires in the middle of intersections.

Professional soldiers and veterans have kept to some degree of discipline but, without being assigned to even squads with an officer, it is a bare minimum. Hospitaliers can do no more than keep the peace throughout the huge camp holding a good twenty thousand volunteers with more arriving each day.

Leomi Lance lodges at the center of this small temporary city in a humble tent with a luxurious interior. She does not stay there by choice but by necessity to receive news and give orders as quickly as possible.

She spends most of her days laid back in a blue satin slanted couch with a dozen pillows and a golden jay on her left shoulder. Unable to truly grieve her mother with all the work she has, she is emotionally hanging on by a single thread of hope that the woman she loves and makes her so angry is more competent than reckless.

It makes her truly furious that her fiancee left her to grieve only to cause her more grief by throwing herself into another fight in Meiridin. Leomi's right hand snaps onto the bracelet around her left wrist to reassure her it's there.

“Honey, she set fire to the rope holding the counter-weight to the portcullis which brought the old rusted gate down.” Yvonne says reassuringly from a corner of the tent. “They won't be able to pursue her.”

“How fast do you think civilians holding newborn are going to be?” Leomi snaps.

“As fast as they need to be, Jessica will be fine.” The sword-sworn reassures her.

“She better, what if I send...” Leomi starts.

“Don't.” Yvonne interrupts. “She'll worry if you send the jay again, or get angry, likely both.”

“Angry? She left me!” Leomi explodes.

“Leomi.” Yvonne utters with a somber tone. “You pushed her away.”

“You better be right about Rowland being able to support her.” Lance mutters with a sinking voice.

“The two of you need to stop jabbing at each other like this, and he'll do what's best not what you want.” The sword-sworn responds.

Leomi rises to pick a fight but Yvonne crosses the tent and forces a cup of hot mint tea in her hands which causes her to settle back down with her memories of drinking this with her parents as a young girl.

“This better not be poisoned.” Leomi murmurs with a pout.

“It'll be next time you commandeer my lover to take care of yours.” The sword-sworn replies playfully.

“Not my lover, she's my fiancee.” The dignified honorary Duchess pouts.

Leomi Lance's sight falls on the pure blue sapphire, causing her sadness because of the memories it contains. The blood red cracks on its surface then cause her heart to melt because of the unbreakable bond it represents.

Yet, the fact she was abandoned despite that causes her left hand to shake and she throws the cup of mint tea out, breaking the fragile porcelain in a fit of fury.

Tears gather in the corners of her light gray eyes as her conflicting emotions cause her to lose control. Yvonne quickly rushes to sit by her side on the slanted couch, wrapping her ward in a hug from behind.

“Where is that dog? Where is Cenwalh?!” Leomi erupts.

“Shh, he's delaying so as to try to catch us off-guard but he's on the way.” The sword-sworn whispers.

Lance grits her teeth, knowing that the tricks she's prepared have a time limit before they're exposed. There are huge tents filled with sacks of straw made to look like grain to deceive her opponents into thinking she can actually afford to support this army when Izla Meria is utterly unable to feed it.

She needs the King to arrive with his army and, very predictably, usurp her command of the campaign. As soon as he arrives, she will start distributing weapons and grain, making it seem as if she's doing all she can to supply the army before her command is taken from her and these things are seized by greedy Nobles.

She does not fear the trick she is going to play to be exposed later because her reputation is high above that of the rest of Nobility who are known to lie for political gains.

She knows that, no matter what they say about her later, the army won't believe it. It'll in fact further destroy the Court's reputation if it tries to soil hers in her absence, even if their words are pure truth.

This is the most time-sensitive part of her tricks, the second part is the distribution of weapons she obtained from Edusa that she cannot begin until the last moment because, same as the grain, she lacks enough to arm every combatant that responded to her call.

To add a layer to the deception that she's providing the majority of the food and weapons, she's ordered crests to be engraved on every weapon in the armory.

That of house Lance, house Meria, house Odo, and many others whose weapons are known to be in her possession. Other weapons have had crests engraved and then filed down until they became unrecognizable.

Once Cenwalh arrives, she'll distribute them all far and wide so that every weapon that the combatants then receive can be thought to come from her. This will effectively buy the assembled army's good will and effectively render the King's usurpation moot.

Chief Justicier Grace will travel with the Hospitaliers to Telnur and keep doing her work, ensuring that none forget Lance's grand plan and also ensure that morality prevails by intervening when necessary.

Leomi is eager to outmaneuver the King by taking advantage of his orthodox way of thinking. She's aware of her unstable state of mind and blames her jay for it but rather than let anger spoil her excitement at the prospect of victory, at changing the world, she prefers to let her arousal build.

“I'm going to screw him, snare him here to win in Telnur.” Leomi mutters with a harsh voice.

“You will.” Yvonne gently tells her while caressing her white hairs.

The presence of her sword-sworn with who she has shared a very special bond for years that in some ways is as deep as the one she shares with Jessica Elizabeth Vil Freepath excites her further because she loves being observed.

Leomi unashamedly reaches down to unfasten her belt. Yvonne sighs softly but does not stop hugging her. In fact, she discreetly lifts her ward's shirt so that it doesn't obstruct her sex.

Lance pulls down her pants to kick them away and pulls the knickers she stole from her fiancee in secret down her long legs. She places her palm on her intimacy and starts rubbing, masturbating under her sword-sworn's sight. She enjoys how the gaze she imagines on her makes her lower-stomach burn up.

“I'm going to screw him.” Leomi utters as she roughly penetrates herself with two fingers. “Fuck him until he begs for his life. Then, take that away for what he did to Mother and tried to do to my Liz, what his people are trying to do to my Jess.”

“But, for now, he is best left ignorant.” Yvonne whispers.

“Uhmph.” Lance exhales as she pushes out with her waist to push her slender fingers as deep as possible. “Toy with him who looks to the sky as he walks ignorant of the darkness beneath, unaware I'm taking him from behind with a blade sneaking up to his throat.”

Leomi reaches out to caress Yvonne's left breast as her thrusting motions get quicker between her legs, causing obscene squishing sounds. Her sword-sworn can't help but blush in slight arousal.

She could join her ward in pleasing herself but she doesn't share her quirks so, at the moment, she regrets not having Rowland to scratch the itch and gently grabs Lance's hand in hers to stop having her chest handled roughly.

“Ihm. Ihm.” Leomi moans. The jay on her shoulder hides its beak under its wing. “Uiihm!” She arcs up as she quickly reaches a climax and pleasure spreads throughout her body in waves.

She falls back, sweaty and exhausted despite how rapidly she got herself off. Yvonne gently brushes a few short strands of messy hair back and helps her ward settle back in the couch. Then, the sword-sworn heads out of the tent to gather the latest reports that she'll transmit to Leomi once she wakes.

“Wait.” Leomi weakly calls out. “Help me put my pants back, on and call Mary in.”

“In your state? You should go to sleep as usual.” Yvonne protests.

“Can go again, want to, later.” Lance dismisses while panting. “I need to make sure, the storing tents are guarded, by the ignorant and those who know are sent to Kruzser today.”

Yvonne sighs because she knows that part of Leomi is doing this as much for the sexual pleasure as it is to bully her to satisfy a minimal sadistic impulse and not lose control.

--- --- ---

The lanky Prince Arkur of house Caroline is riding north with the taciturn sword-master at his side. He does not know what game honorary Duchess Lance and King Cenwalh are playing but he does not need to in order to be aware that they're wasting time.

One is awaiting in the plains with a disorganized mob of twenty thousand containing more runaway peasants than qualified warriors while the rest is a jumble of guards and soldiers with little to no experience.

He expects that mess of an army to actually be closer to fifty thousand considering he learned in the morning that many of them have been intercepted by King Cenwalh up north who leads close to sixty thousand or more depending on estimations.

Arkur doesn't care what either side plans, he knows what he plans to do and that's enough. He removes his riding jacket to expose the embroidery of his tunic as he approaches the King's huge camp at the border of the lake.

It is a blatant use of his role as the Fourth's flow-smith to influence politics despite him being here as a Prince of Telnur but it is fine in this case because the Phalanxes need this army to start moving south today in order to get there by summer. As he approaches, a squad of riders heads out to meet him.

“Halt there!” The officer calls out with a grandiloquent tone.

The Prince, in no mood to entertain these people, keeps riding forth while extending his hand out to shape string constructs. He makes sure they're not so thin they'll cut through these soldiers and then launches them to immobilize these impertinent people.

--- --- ---

King Cenwalh, dressed in his royal robes with his crown by his side, raises his cup of wine to his lips but freezes as a man in a white uniform with a purple 'IV' on his chest barges into his large tent, revealing a dozen tied up guards outside.

“King Cenwalh!” Arkur Caroline bellows.

“Prince Arkur! This is most improper behavior!” Richard, the old chamberlain, berates.

Cenwalh presses his lips together and links to the network of constructs covering the area. He expands their range and briefly activates a localized disruption effect to free the incompetent Nobles he gave the honor to guard him this day.

Their lack of ability is usually irrelevant because none would dare assault a King, and even fewer than none would succeed. Cenwalh's purpose with this guard is to induce lower Nobles or higher ones in financial trouble to spend much on their gear to be suitably presentable and then reward them with just enough gold or presents to keep them in his debt.

“Improper?!” Arkur erupts angrily. “Then what do you call this delay of almost an entire week! Treason?!”

“You've gone too far, Prince! This is Caeviel!” Richard blows up.

The chamberlain turns to the Nobles his King freed to order them to throw the Prince out but Cenwalh lazily raises his hand to stop the confrontation. The King then signals the Prince to approach.

“We humbly confess that We do not follow your reasoning, Prince Arkur.” Cenwalh speaks up with a deceptively lazy voice as his brain turns rapidly.

“You made promises to help Telnur, yet I witness you taking a spring vacation at the side of a lake!” Arkur utters, showing more anger than he feels.

“We've experienced delays, as is often the case in war. We are certain Telnur will understand that it is no small undertaking for Caeviel to cross the chains of mountains separating the Kingdoms.” Cenwalh replies diplomatically.

“Delays mean deaths!” Arkur spits out. “You've assured us of your army's competence yet I find that this risible honorary Duchess has been ready and only been awaiting the rest of those she called to arms for days!”

“You jest, Prince.” Richard protests while shaking his head which disturbs the few thin white hairs covering his head.

“Caeviel is unfortunately not as united as it once was, Prince.” Cenwalh says with such a saddened expression that it would be fit for a tragedy. “There is word that the traitor Elizabeth Vil has defied her exile, We must ensure Our house is in order before ferrying south.”

“Those are lies engineered by rebels from Izla Meria, I am well aware since I have witnessed the impostor's corpse.” Arkur utters with a corner smile to impress on the King that his siding with honorary Duchess Lance is a consequence of his delaying and to threaten more if he continues so.

“Hmph.” Cenwalh snorts, his expression falling.

It is evident that this choice from the Prince signifies that Telnur isn't taking him seriously enough or overestimating Izla Meria and in so trying to take advantage of Caeviel's turmoil to control them.

“We shall study this perspective on the matter.” The King says to dismiss the Prince. “Thank you for bringing this to Our attention, Prince, but next time... do await Court hours to visit.”

He knows he won't be able to use the impostor any longer if Telnur grants Izla Meria their influence in the matter and so feels cross enough not to continue the verbal spar.

He decides instead to reap the fruit of the honorary Duchess' efforts by rightfully assuming control of the rest of the army she's gathered. Much as it annoys Cenwalh, for now he has to ensure Telnur is happy enough by his progress to consider an alliance.

--- --- ---

Leomi rises in the very morning to hear loud calls and the thundering noise of an army on the march. Her lips stretch because this is the sound of the King falling on her sword. She'll need a few hard stomps on the pommel of that metaphorical sword in Telnur to end him but this is a good start.

She reaches to an alarm construct and triggers it, causing a signal to ring in other parts of the camp. Hospitaliers rush into the storage tents to grab prepared bundles of weapons and sacks of grain to distribute them to the people gathered.

--- --- ---

King Cenwalh rides towards what he can't help but think of as a rebel camp with the rising sun at his left side, shining on him to be reflected by his polished majestic plate armor.

He leads the army on his warhorse with no intention at all to stop because he has already sent his people a handful of minutes ahead to call for the gathering of these forces so that they'll integrate to the back of the column on the march.

His plan is simple. The chaos of the situation will make his unquestionable authority and legitimacy evident as people will follow the King when given no time to think. He believes, and he is correct in this matter alone, that Leomi Lance will not have predicted him to act so high-handed which means she won't be prepared to counter this simple move.

--- --- ---

Leomi Lance stares, baffled, as the long column marches past her camp. She can hear calls across hers to gather into units and fall into rank to depart. She can't help but frown despite this being no defeat to her.

She had hoped to trigger a confrontation between her and the King under the sight of all. It would have boosted her legitimacy. She is upset because Cenwalh should have tried to at least make contact with her.

She thinks he would have seen the benefit in both using her reputation to claim ownership of the expedition and having her to blame during defeats but, apparently, the King is so arrogant he doesn't think he needs her.

Lance scowls at this blunder of hers but decides it is no loss because, without being able to use her name to unite the army of almost a hundred thousand, it'll be easier for her to later draw some of it to herself.

“Send a messenger galloping to Port-Odo, tell Grace to lead the way to Telnur with the Justiciers.” Lance orders Yvonne.

“It'll piss the King off.” The sword-sworn notes.

“Not as much as what I'm about to do and I don't care, the man is delusional if he thinks he can take my army without confronting me.” She utters with a dark voice.

--- --- ---