March to the Ancestors.

A bloody northern tradition where two groups with irreconcilable differences meet on the Witness Circle and settle their conflicts with extreme violence. Both sides wager everything they are. Their lives, their wealth, their legacies. To the winners, everything. The losers are forgotten. The debt incurred, absolute.

As we understand it, Zachariah James gave the hunters the knowledge of Victory’s tradition of dueling away differences to test me. He had no intention of inciting a March, but he had to know the hunters were getting in over their heads. He calculated that they wouldn’t understand the gravity of northern traditions when they laid down their challenge. No rational person would think that a few sentences could doom their entire guild and their families. Even if someone explained it to them with illustrated examples, they’d think it was a joke. And once they were involved, the consequences kept them from retreating.

The March has always bothered me. Chiefly, that such an insane tradition exists in the first place. Second, how the insanity of Victory appears to be infectious. Its influence makes everyone a little crazy. Alana is especially susceptible, though our fight seems to have brought her back to her better senses.

That insane tradition and my relationships consumed most of my attention, meaning I let the little concerns pass me by.

Like, why would Zach use the hunters to go after us? Northerners look down on outsiders. He heard rumors from Quest that gave him an idea of Kierra’s strength. Comparing that with his knowledge of the average hunters’ strength from previous campaigns, he should have understood, or at the very least doubted, their ability to bring us down.

Once could argue that his actions were reserved and the situation simply spiraled out of his control. After all, he didn’t tell the hunters about the March, which could spark a civil war. What he gave the hunters was a way to challenge us that made it difficult to refuse. If they killed us, great. If they didn’t, he’d have a better idea of our strength and could plan accordingly. It was Kalise that brought up the March.

From the outside, he looks innocent. But he grew up here. He’s lived with Kalise all his life. He should have known or had an idea about how she would react. Yet, he risked it anyway. He risked quite a lot when he already had a strong position as the favored heir and his opponent was an unknown bastard child with no standing in the north aside from her last name.

I could understand if he tried his luck after we returned from the campaign with enough merits to make Alana a threat to him inheriting his father’s title, but he took such rash action when he thought she was just his father’s pity project.

I’m not surprised Kalise suggested something like the March. She reminds me of my elf. If she had her way, there’d probably be bloodsports every day. What does surprise me is that the duke agreed. He’s the lord of the north. A noble. He has considerations beyond Victory. Traditions aside, a war would be devastating. Victory may have the better fighters, but the crown has the numbers. Quantity is a quality of its own.

Yet, he agreed. Knowing the hunters didn’t truly understand the implications. That there is no way the guilds will happily give away their assets. If we lose, he permanently alienates his daughter and losses powerful fighters for future campaigns. If we win, it means war. He should have slapped his stupid son and told everyone to calm down, but he agreed after only a moment of thought.

With more important things on my mind, I simply put it down to northern insanity. The duke grew up in, by his own admission, the craziest family in Victory. Of course he’s going to make decisions I can’t understand and don’t agree with.

But, watching him as he sits behind his desk with laced fingers and clear eyes, having just gotten exactly what he wants, I have to wonder if the duke isn’t as crazy as I think. Maybe he is more like the nobles of the capital than I could ever imagine.

“This is the first time a party outside the north has participated in a March. As the victor and the executor, I want to give you the power to direct the manner in which the debt is collected. I have only one condition. The debt must be collected.”

“I’m beginning to feel insulted,” Alana growls. He keeps questioning her commitment and she doubles down to prove him wrong. It’s so childish, like literal children baiting each other into increasingly stupid acts just because they don’t want the other brats calling them cowards or chickens.

It’s embarrassing how effective it is. Again, he hasn’t talked her into doing anything she wouldn’t have done anyway. I don’t know if the duke even considers this manipulative. I’ve seen Pete and Pot, my father’s useless knights, rile each other up in a similar way, all in good fun. This may just be parenting to the duke.

Either way, I’ve had enough.

I put a hand on Alana’s shoulder. When she turns to me, she visibly calms, communicating with her eyes that she thinks she’s fine. My smile is stiff as I gently pull her backward, telling her to back down. Her brows furrow and she resists my hold. I insist but don’t add any more strength. We stare at each other for several long seconds before she huffs and takes two steps back. My smile turns sweet before I erase it and face her father.

“I’m the victor of the March. The debt is mine to collect so shouldn’t your questions be addressed to me?”

“…you are my daughter’s bannerwoman and she is overseeing the situation.”

“Overseeing, not handling. Besides, you and I know I’m much more than a bannerwoman.” My lips twitch as I hold back a smirk at Alana’s soft, embarrassed groan but I refrain from looking at her. “This is perfect because I wanted to talk about the March too. There’re some things I need clarified.”

The duke leans back in his chair with a huff. “Ask.”

“What does everything mean? And don’t tell me everything. Specifically, what do the guilds owe us?”

“Everything means everything.”

This annoying…“Be serious. Do I get their trash too? The clothes off their backs?”

“If you wish to claim it.”

I grin. “So, I get to decide how much is enough.”

“…there is a minimum standard that must be upheld. The March is not something that is invoked in vain.” You should tell that to your wife. “Mercy is not a virtue in the north. Too much offends the ancestors and tempts fate.”

Does good sense offend them? I shouldn’t ask, it probably does. “I have no intention of being merciful, but I also don’t want to waste my time with things I don’t need or value.” It makes things a lot easier if I’m the one who determines the ‘everything’ they have to surrender. That means there is room for negotiation. And since Alana is overseeing the execution of the March’s consequences, the duke is not seated at the table.

“Is there a time limit?” I ask.

“No, but if you wish for Victory to be your hands, you need to consider the seasons.”

So, don’t drag out negotiations until next winter.

“One more thing. Everything that they are includes their lives but that doesn’t mean anyone else has to die, correct?”

“…no. The victor decides their fate. Do I need to warn you that it is dangerous to let enemies live?”

“No.” In fact, I didn’t need him to answer any of these questions. Alana has already explained all of this to me. This is a warning. Now that he has said the words out loud, he can’t complain later. “Then this will all work out nicely.”

“Your early departure presents a problem. You will face Quest alone.”

“Do you think that’s a problem?” I prefer it that way. If we showed up with an army, I don’t imagine anyone would be willing to talk to us. Without swords in their faces, perhaps reason can prevail.

“The last campaigns will end by mid-spring at the latest. Call on us and the full force of Victory will march for you.”

Hopefully, we can avoid that.

“Lou, I have a request.”

The room turns to the bunny, who has remained quiet until now. She puts a hand on her chest. “Despite his hard stance, I know Father is worried about Khan.” She turns big, wet eyes on the duke. His face remains impassive, but I know there’s a father inside that’s softening at her words. “I also think that the controversy around him being sent away can be eased by another voice, speaking from a different perspective.”

Roza is immediately intrigued. “Your support would do a lot of good.” She meets eyes with the rest of the room. “The people respect the James family, but they adore their flower. If she asks for their understanding, it may go a long way to easing tensions. At least long enough for Lady Tome to produce results, one way or the other.”

I cover Alana’s annoyed click of the tongue by saying, “You can call me Lou.”

Yulia nods her head. “My idea is to accompany Alana and Lou throughout spring. I can return with news to reassure the north and update you on their progress.” Her eyes move to me. “More importantly, I believe I understand Lou’s intentions with the March and want to offer my advice.”

“Only one James is required,” Alana says slowly, frustration evident.

“Yes, only one is required and if your only intention was to wage war, I wouldn’t be of any use. However, I think Lou, both of you, plan to employ means other than violence. And, I mean no offense, neither of you strike me as proficient negotiators.”

“I can handle a negotiation,” I huff.

“Without your elementals? I don’t think your succubi will be welcome at the table. The use of the mental affinity is illegal for all but the royal interrogators but I doubt it has prevented the guilds from training their own casters. It hasn’t stopped my father.”

“Yulia,” he grumps.

“Lou is not a stranger and you admitted as much yourself.” Yulia turns to Alana. “I want to help you and I think it will be fun to take Allen on a little vacation.”

Alana’s frown eases at the mention of her nephew. “The hunters will be angry and desperate. We could be targets for assassination. Is that a situation you want to put Allen in?”

Yulia shakes her head. “We’re going there to prevent war. I’m sure the guilds will be interested in that and won’t makes things a lot worse by killing members of the James family. I’m not defenseless and I believe in your house’s ability to protect me.”

She makes a good point. Nothing short of her head being pulverized could kill her if we want to keep her alive. “We can keep them safe, Alana.” Which is very obvious. If she wants to reject her sister’s help, she’s going to need more direct.

“…fine.” Surprisingly, she doesn’t. She turns her head to avoid her sister’s bright smile. “You’re good at making people drop their guard.”

“We’re going to have so much fun!”

“Oi! I’m going too!” Kalise shouts.

“This is getting ridiculous!” Eleanor snaps. “It is one thing to send Khan away. There is no way to explain his mother going with him. With Alana and Yulia leaving as well, it’ll look like the James family is fracturing.”

“And what if I say I don’t care anymore?!” Kalise yells. Her eyes are wild and her breathing is coming a little too fast. Ah, did she finally snap? This has been a stressful day. “This saints forsaken fort and all the bog drinkers in it can—"

Her words are cut off by Eleanor’s hand. The other grabs the front of Kalise’s shirt and drags her from the room, ignoring her struggles. It continues all the way down the hall as the stern woman drags her fellow wife away from the room.

“That is the end of our matters,” the duke says, making no comment on the behavior of the women. I can’t detect so much as a hint of concern from him. I wonder if he really is so callous toward them after years of marriage. What a loveless house. No wonder they all cling to these traditions so much, they don’t have anything else. “I wish you victory in your endeavors. The ancestors always watch over us.”