The situation is changing rapidly.

Japanese forces not only advanced further into the Italica region, but they even fought off a large bandit army besieging the capital of the region. All the while coming to the aid of Princess Pina and her Rose Order of Knights, and securing the good will of the populace.

At least, that is how Myui describes the events in her recent messages.

It was a lot more flowery than that, but that was the gist of it.

She described the Japanese ‘banner’ as white with a red disc at the center and how it now fluttered beside House Formal’s own banner. Going into exceptional detail about the Japanese ‘iron Pegasus’s’ raining death from above, their magical ‘thunder weapons’ killing scores of men from a distance, and heaping all sorts of praise upon the valor shown by one ‘Sir Itami’ and his companions in the battle against the deserters.

It’s all very heroic of them.

How very selfless and noble.

Going out of their way to save one of the major cities of the Empire and to secure a stretch of the Imperial Highway that leads directly to Sadera itself. And by saving the city from all the ‘gentleness’ of a sacking, they have ingratiated themselves with said population and appear as guardians rather than invaders, ensuring a reduced amount of partisan activity behind their lines.

And now, they were in a prime position to roll back the Empire’s lines all the way to the Imperial Heartlands.

But therein lies a catch: if they advance too swiftly without recon, the results could be devastating. Yet the longer they delay, the more defenses will be arrayed against them.

But if they rush, their supply lines could be exposed to partisan attack. It was all give and take. Even a modern military would be hard pressed to keep up secure logistics with a combative population.

“Quite the catch twenty-two.” I muse aloud.

“A what?”

“Just a saying I heard before,” I tell Gaius, obviously he doesn’t know modern colloquialism. “It means a situation where there are multiple, equally bad options at one’s disposal. I think that best describes the situation.”

“Hmm,” Gaius nodded. “I suppose in that case, we are ‘catching twenty-two’.”

Close enough…

While many senators and policy makers of the Empire seems happy to join the national suicide pact to hurl themselves into the war with Earth, I asked Stilicho and Victrix some time ago to get me a list of senators who were more open minded to the possibility of a ‘cessation of hostilities’.

Not surrender of course! You can’t say the ‘S’ word out loud these days. Even wealthy citizens were getting strung up from lamp posts these days for even contemplating surrender. While I doubt such a severe punishment would happen to me, I still rather not be chastised and lose what creature comforts I had.

But back on topic, the pair managed to deliver a list one hundred and thirty names long.

The pair had done their part excellently. Judges, ministers, clerks, record keepers, and other middle rank bureaucrats and military officials who had enough of a picture of the war effort to know just how badly it was going.

Most came from Victrix’s own Populists, but a number mingled about from the other groups as well. Civics concerned with how this war could destabilize the whole nation. Militarists aghast at the death tolls of prior imperial engagements. And other groups still.

Sadly, war was still on the rage, at least publicly in most circles.

Though I had it on good authority that the mood in the Senate is shifting since word of Italica’s ‘fall’ reached the capital. No official announcement to the public yet of course, but it was only a matter of time everyone knew.

With that information I was being fed now, I was able to create a very generalized overview of the Empire’s military forces. It probably didn’t account for everything, but it was a good starting point for me to figure out how long this whole war was going to last.

And as of right now, looking at the little display I had Giaus and Remus setup, I could see the distribution of the Empire’s forces was akin to a bagel or doughnut at the moment: little in the center, strong on the extremes. The cost of losing most of their forces in the interior I suppose.

Now, if I combine this information with what little I was able to glean from Myui’s letter on the Japanese forces, at least one company of airborne forces from the sound of it, I had some idea of what was going on.

And from what I saw, I’d give them three months tops before they reach the capital. That assumes they stop for a time to get the lay of the land rather than do a blitzkrieg style offensive to smash apart what little internal defenses were left in that region of the Empire.

Though speed was hardly an issue given the disgusting disparity of power.

But still, the Heartland regions had their legions intact, but they were a far cry in size compared to the invasion force, and follow up forces, that were already routed. At this point, from what I’ve seen from admittedly second-hand sources, the Emperor was seemingly recalling all legions that were in the process of being redeployed to the fringes of the Empire to reinforce the core.

But if you bring in the legions on the borders, you suffer further incisions. And none of this takes into account all the increased activity along the borders: nomads, Vikings, civil unrest in the south, to the average person it might look like the world is coming to an end.

“And where does all of this leave us?” Gaius spoke up again, probably wondering why I was just staring at the map. “Beyond a severe disadvantage.”

I sigh, leaning back I look out the window to the capital proper. Of the crews working to stud the wall with uncountable numbers of ballista, of the wyverns flying constantly patrols above, and the lines of legionaries , and of the palace at the top of Sadera hill that was going to be the biggest target in the city.

Yet something seemed…off.

Not the defenses or anything on my side, this was a doomed defense at best, and a waste of time at worst. Far better to arrange a ceasefire and negotiate an end to a war long since decided months ago.

No, something else nagged at me.

Throughout her message and recounting of the events, Myui failed to mention any other nationality alongside the Japanese regulars. No officers, or even comments that other nations were fighting alongside Japan.

Which is beyond strange.

Outrageous and strange as an attack from another world might be, Japan would have been well within its rights to invoke the Mutual Defense Treaty with the United States. The Americans ought to be flooding the airspace of Falmart with all manner of UAVs and planes to say nothing of the ground commitments they would be providing.

And yet not a single one has been seen.

I can concede that maybe Myui just didn’t mention them due to brevity, but Americans are not the sort to sit quietly in a corner and not be seen at one of the first official meetings between Imperial and Earth sides. Even if they didn’t partake in the operation around Italica, they would absolutely want a seat at the negotiation table just for the sake of it.

And they would not let Japan take a leading role in negotiations, let alone the sole role in it.

No matter how much I want to just write all this off as me overthinking the words of an eleven year old, I just couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something wrong.

“Your Highness?”

Right, Gaius had just asked me a question and my reply so far was just silence.

“There is going to be a lot of work to be done,” I finally admitted, still looking over to the city. “A lot of things to fix, and even more to build back up,” I can already imagine the nation building that will follow after the end of this war. The emancipation of tens of millions of slaves, the restructuring of the Empire’s political system, repatriations, renegade generals, separatist movements, riots, oh it will be a mess in the short term. “As far as I can see, there are two paths for us: reform or death. Stagnation or change. However you want to call it, the way things are going not cannot be allowed to continue.”

Or more likely reform and death, once the Empire finishes this doomed war and the proper Western pastime of nation building begins.

“I…” I could feel Gaius’s gaze drift from me to the capital as well, then a heavy sigh. “I think I understand, Your Highness. But what you are saying….it is not a simple matter.”

“Which one do you think the people of the Empire will choose: their pride or their lives?”

From personal experience I knew there would be no end of people who would rather let everything burn to the ground out of sheer spite than admit someone else does something better than you. I wish I could use a witty retort to claim that was the motto of communism in the face of the economic prosperity capitalism provides, but I suppose the thought can apply to anything really.

My old homeland of Germania included.

“…You are correct, Your Highness,” the eunuch, bowed. “With your leave, I will begin making what preparations I can to set in motion these changes of yours to come.”

I wave him off, letting the man leave to do his things. Part of me is a bit sad. I'm basically turning Gaius into a quisling with all my doom and gloom and how we need to be ready to accept occupation, but I am pretty sure he’ll thank me later when we aren’t the ones sitting before a judge for war crimes.

And assuming Pina’s trip goes well, a line of dialogue can finally be established to put an end to this pointless war.

--
--

The last few days had been a whirlwind for Itami.

He and his team went to a city near Alnus Base, Italica, to see if they could trade some of the wyvern scales they had to give the refugees some money to work with and establish trade ties with the local communities.

What they got roped into was a massive battle, a meeting with the enemy princess, and a Diet hearing to examine the events of the battle with the Fire Dragon.

So yeah, quite the series of events.

While the girls came over to see Japan with the rest of Recon Team Three, and to show the Princess and her companion that they weren’t the monsters they thought Japan was, the first stop on the trip was being dragged before the Diet to give his testimony.

While it started alright, with Lelei giving the senators an account of the Special Region, and the mage translating for Tuka whle she did the same, it all started to change when the Opposition senators started to ask their questions.

He’d honestly rather be put up against another horde of Imperials then have to deal with all the political crap.

The biggest sticking point for members of the opposition were the one hundred and fifty dead civilians from the Dragon Incident. They needled and picked at what Itami and the SDF as a whole, did wrong, rather than look at what went right.

Why didn’t he do more?

How could he let all those people die?

One senator even went so far as to ask if he thought the troops in Alnus were too inexperienced or unqualified for their mission.

That was the question he almost lost it at.

They acted like fighting a fire breathing lizard capable of shrugging off small arms fire is something any military ought to be expected to train and prepare for! These senators did realize the Special Region was a fantasy world with magic and monsters, right?

Evidently, given the constant questions, they either didn’t know or, more likely, didn’t care. The senators had their opinions before he and his team even sat down, and they were going to stick to them, facts be damned.

One lady even went so far as to try and portray Rory as some child refugee in mourning from the failure of Itami and his team to save more of ‘her people’.

He’ll admit, he felt quite amused when the demigod in question shut her down and called her out for what she was doing. She even did it without Lelei translating for her, confident in her own grasp of Japanese to speak for herself.

The senator fell back into her seat looking like someone just told her she had cancer, utterly defeated and humiliated.

And that should have been the end of it.

However…

“Miss Mercury,” another senator from the Opposition, a man with slick black hair seated beside the woman from earlier, stood up to speak. “You are a priestess of sorts in the Special Region, correct?”

His question amused the gothic Lolita, “not ‘of sorts’, but Emory’s apostle.”

“For the sake of my colleagues, and those watching at home, could you please explain what being an apostle entails?”

“Certainly, young man,” Rory smiled at the chance to talk about herself. “Apostles are demigods who serve one of the Gods of Falmart as an instrument of their will. We are given powers beyond mortals, and after a thousand years of service, we are raised up as gods in our own right.”

The admission of ascension drummed up a great deal of whispers, but the senator pressed on undeterred. “Your god, if I may be so bold to ask this, what are his domains?”

Something was up, Itami could feel it.

“Emory is the God of War in Falmart,”Rory replied with a smile.

“But that’s not his only domain though, is it?” the senator pushed up his glasses and thumbed through a packet. “I seem to recall- ah here it is. Yes, it says here, and by your own admission according to your interview at Alnus, that your deity is far more than a simple god of war, no?”

Rather than answer, Rory let out a low chuckle at the man’s questioning, her smile turning predatory. “So that's what you were trying to lead this to.”

“Um Rory?” Itami looked to the Apostle.

“You’re smarter than the other woman, I’ll grant you that much,” the Apostle shrugged, ignoring Itami’s question. “But don’t go thinking you’re the first to try this little trick.”

“For those not aware,” he continued, not acknowledging Rory’s retort. “The God Miss Mercury serves is not simply a war god, but a deity of numerous fields.” He shook the papers in the air to emphasize the point. “The areas he oversees include no merely war, but a number of baser things: violence, death, insanity, crime, and even execution.”

Rory ignored the gasps and mutterings from all around her. “I’m sorry, young man, but were you asking a question or making a statement?”

“I simply want all my colleagues here to understand the gravity of my actual question,” he pulled his glasses down to clean the lenses. “Miss Mercury, what would convince a servant of such a being to align itself with our Self Defense Forces?”

Itami swore to himself as reporters and Diet members alike began mummering amongst one another in an almost feverish manner, all the while cameras flashes incessantly or zoomed in on the demigod.

The room, perhaps the nation, waited anxiously for an answer.

Itami was worried she was going to give them what they wanted, bait her into lashing out. He could only imagine what the media would run with if they saw her break out her halberd right in front of the Diet.

But she surprised him, and perhaps everyone who read her dossier.

She locked eyes with the senator, and just sighed, “I am done with this.”

“Miss Mercury?”

“This whole dialogue is nothing more than an attempt to twist my words to fit whatever narrative you are spinning. Worse, you are attempting to demean your own warriors for carrying out their orders to the best of their ability. And your sycophantic peers who support the JSDF are no better, trying to cloak themselves in battle honor as if they were the ones who shed blood for it. You, all of you, are unworthy of any more of my attention.”

“Miss Mercury you cannot simply-“

“There are very few things I cannot do, young man,” she glanced at Itami, switching back to Falmart’s language. “I’ll be outside when your done with…this farce.” With that, the demigod made her way to the door to the backdrop of gasps, muttering and the continued flashing of cameras.

“Miss Mercury, this hearing is not yet over,” another opposition senator spoke up, the man from before quietly sitting down with the faintest hint of satisfaction on his lips. “Servicemen, please escort her back to the podium.”

As a guard reached to grab her shoulder, Itami could faintly make out her saying something to them. “Do you really wish to die for this man’s ego?” Looking back, she flashed a grin, and addressed the assembled senators. “If you, or anyone, really wants to stop me, then stop me~”

Oh shit…

Thankfully, the guards let her pass without issue, despite continued calls to bar her way.

The remainder of the session was spent in some whirlwind of attempts to censor Rory, officially drag her back in, have her held in contempt, and a dozen other things besides. Nothing came of any of it, because each proposal and discussion always led to the same question at the end: “who could actually stop her?”

Still, it all ended better than he thought it would.

And true to her word, Rory was waiting for him and everyone in the hallway. Apparently spending her time looking at some magazines.

“About time,” she perked up seeing them walk out, “I was starting to think they’d never let you out.”

“You could have been more diplomatic about that,” Lelei admonished the demigod in her native tongue, though the mage clearly was no less thrilled about the grilling they all suffered.

“That was me being diplomatic,” she let out a short snort, tossing the magazine to an empty chair beside her. “Besides, if I did anything, it would reflect badly on not just us, but the JSDF. Those vultures would have gorged themselves to their heart's content from a single drop of blood.”

“Probably,” Itami nervously laughed, scratching the back of his neck. “I’m honestly surprised you didn’t-Sorry“ , he stopped realizing how his words were coming out.

“Sorry? For what?” Rory asked, following the group out of the building.

“No I mean-….You don’t really seem the type to just,” how was he going to phrase this without possibly insulting her? “

“Oh,” she blinked. “You thought I was going to kill him?”

Itami coughed into his hand as the eyes of several security guards landed on the group following the demigod’s comment, the apostle switched back to Japanese for that last bit. “Uh…I wouldn’t go that far. I was worried you’d show off your weapon and cause some sort of incident. I know you’re not some bloodthirsty murderer, no matter what they were trying to spin this as, but you’ve always struck me as the type to ”

“I wasn’t lying when I said he wasn’t the first senator to try that little stunt,” Rory commented. “And I will be the first to admit that I was far less restrained than I am nowadays when it happened.”

Well, lucky them, Itami guessed.

He just hoped he wasn’t jinxing himself by preying this was the craziest thing to happen to them during their visit.

--
--

“What the hell was that Kohara!?”

“I- How was I supposed to know the thousand-year-old monster was the little girl!?”

“It was in the briefing!”

“Which was a little vague on that point!”

“It explicitly said she had the appearance of a young girl!”

“Just like the other two were! How could I expect it was the literal child!”

“By reading more than the first two sentences and just looking at her! Did you just ignore the oversized weapon that had the entire security detail on edge!?”

“I-..I mean I-… It could have been the magic staff that-“

“The mage was the first one to talk!”

Asahi sighed at the display of ‘opposition unity’. Party Leader Sarutobi was really ripping into Kohara. All right in front of the party just to add more salt to the injury. Well, not just her, each senator whose questions made the United Democratic Party look ridiculous were getting an earful.

He was pleased to not be among their number.

Maybe Sarutobi was just venting the frustration that’s been building up since the Gate threw a wrench into everything. Before the Gate, the Democratic Constitutional Party was on the verge of collapse. Poor job numbers, inflation, and other economic issues threatened to sink their coalition with the Innovation Party.

But then the Gate happened and a wellspring of support flooded to the DCP giving the government a second wind. Sure, the sitting PM had to resign, but the party was still in control.

Seeing as how he didn’t have anything to worry about, his question was among the few that were well received and seen by the public as genuine, even catapulting him into the public spotlight.

Still, the majority of the feedback was overwhelmingly negative to the Opposition’s bungling. In particular people seemed to be tearing into the ridiculousness of a military preparing to fight a dragon. Some even comment how Kohara ignored the fact that if the SDF didn’t escort the refugees, then all of them would have been dead and she’d be complaining about that at the hearing.

Ugh, the hearing.

The whole thing was a circus performance as far as he was concerned. No DCP senator was going to say a single negative thing about the conduct of the Self Defense Force, just as no UDP, NCP, or PEP senator was going to find anything praiseworthy.

Yes, the deployment of the Self Defense Force to the Special Region was a unanimous decision in the Diet, but that was because it was political suicide to say otherwise. It was expected of all members, of both chambers, to rally behind the defense of the nation. Hundreds were dead, an unknown number taken beyond, fear was rampant across the nation.

But now that the dust has settled and the full capabilities, or lack thereof, of their enemy is now apparent the next question on the table was what to do with these virgin lands.

A vast region that Japan had sole access to, filled with material and mineral wealth, and held no peer rival to check its ambitions is simply too intoxicating a proposition to let go of once the primary mission of bringing the perpetrators of the Ginza Attack to justice was said and done.

Prime Minister Motoi Shinzo and his Democratic Constitutional Party wanted to make the Special Region Japan’s colonial playground. Relive the ‘good old days’ where Japan’s military was a force to be looked at with awe and respect, while simultaneously achieving complete self-sufficiency from the outside world.

Credit where it’s due, that was more concert of a plan then the Opposition had. Which was essentially, simply going against anything the DCP wanted.

The Prime Minister claimed that since the Imperial attack originated from within Japan’s borders (in the most liberal use of the phrase), and that therefore the attack was a domestic terror attack rather than an attack by a foreign power as an excuse to not invoke the Mutual Defense Treaty. Of course, if any domestic figures asked him about the situation, he would say the foreign affairs office was still deciding what to do with the Empire and what a peace with it would look like.

Such mental gymnastics: the Gate was a domestic issue to the international community, but an ‘international’ issue to domestic audiences.

Personally, Asahi would have leveraged Japan’s monopoly of the Gate to extract concessions from foreign entities, be they national or corporate, who wished for a slice of this new world. Perhaps going as far as to form some sort of International Mandate to oversee the exploration and exploitation of the Special Region.

With Japan having a leading say on all matters of course.

Let other nations and corporations sink both the money and manpower to set up their endeavors, all the while gaining benefits from simply keeping the door open. And if they wanted to keep fighting the Empire, just ask for a few Americans to go through the Gate, wait for some Imperial to so much as sneeze on them, and let the Yankees roll in. Every setback could be blamed on them.

But no. With the SDF as the sole force in the Special Region, it also bore the brunt of every setback and outrage.

Speaking of setbacks, and on the matter of the civilians, the whole point of the hearing, he honestly didn’t care one way or the other. He personally had no issues with how the SDF had conducted itself so far in the Special Region. Hell, he’d even go as far as to say they have acquitted themselves expertly given the extraordinary situation they are in, as heretical as it might be to say on his side of the party lines.

But that was irrelevant at the moment.

For now, they, the Opposition, needed time to lick their wounds and allow the incident in the Diet to drift from public memory.

A few months at most he mused. Maybe less given the attention span of the general populace. And then, when everyone has seemingly forgotten Kohara’s idiocy, they make do with what they can.

In short, they would need proper ammunition.

Body bags, exploitative practices towards the indigenous populations, civilians caught in the crossfire of battles, poor conduct by the servicemen, anything and everything to discredit the purely military admiration in the Special Region.

Not hearsay, not some report that showed failure in spite of victory. No, they needed genuine failure to have any hope of chipping away at the DCP’s grip.

And when the next election came around, they shove every single incident into the public’s face, every failure, every mistake, and remind the public of which party ‘endorsed’ such ‘militarism’, showed such ‘poor judgment’, and who in particular stood opposed to them.

But again, that was some ways off.

--
--

Erik swore as the biting freezing wind tore through his furs. The cold was always worse in the dead of night. Thankfully the streets of Storheim were deserted at this hour, most people had more sense then to stray outdoors at this hour, allowing him to reach the castle in little time.

The guards let him through with little issue, he was expected after all.

When your king summons you, you obey. Even if the summons comes the very moment your feet touch dry land from a long raid. He wasn’t even given any time to see his wives or children, the courier was very clear that his presence was needed now.

Winding his way down stone halls and blazing hearths, he reached the main hall. Shields lined the walls above blazing fires, which rested alongside various suits of armor. Woven tapestries depicting great deeds and awestruck moments hung proudly from the ceiling.

And at the far end of the chamber, past the housecarls, the Thanes, and the priests sat his king. Atop a throne of bone, elevated from the ground, and fashioned from the jaw of a great dragon slain by her hand, sat the King of all Northmen and Blessed of the All-Father Himself: Ivar Grimsdotter.

The Orphan Maker.

The Widower.

The Reaver.

The Monstrous.

And a dozen other titles too tedious for Erik to bother recalling. But one did stand above all others.

The Boneless.

A jab meant to humiliate her in youth, for choosing to become a shieldmaiden, now spoken with hushed tones and respect.

She earned her crown not from some southern concept of inheritance, or voting, but through strength alone. Ivar challenged the previous king for the crown, and won, cementing her rule by right of conquest.

The fallen king’s son refused to acknowledge her ascension, claiming the crown was his by right, and even rose up in revolt. It was short lived, and as punishment Ivar ordered the boy nailed to the side of her longship so he might see firsthand the prosperity and wealth she would bring to their people.

More revolts came, assassination attempts were plotted, but none succeeded.

Despite her displays of authority, Erik had to admit she certainly stood apart from what one would consider kingly: slight where warriors were strong, small when one ought to be tall, and rather than wizened and wise she had the guise of a girl of fifteen summers.

Some whispered she was cursed to remain a child for some hidden hubris they were not privy to.

Others claimed she was in fact blessed by the All-Father Himself, to remain a perfect maiden till the end of her days.

Though claiming she was a ‘maiden’ was a stretch, since she was well into her seventies with a brood of children and grandchildren to call her own.

None questioned her right to rule or the power she wielded. Or the bite her ax had on those who did.

It didn’t take long for Ivar to notice him entering her hall.

“Cousin!” she shouted over the rancorous noise of her hall, shoving aside one of Thanes to embrace him in a firm hug. “It’s damn good to see you.”

“You as well, cousin,” he replied, embracing her in kind.

King or no, the woman was still his cousin on his father’s side.

“You had good pickings I hope?” she asked in relation to his raids.

“Slimmer than usual,” he admitted. “More patrols then normal, and the Imperials built some smaller forts along the coastline to huddle up in. We barely got anyone!”

“Well, what’d you think they were going to do after you sacked that temple of theirs and shagged all its priestesses?” Ivar laughed, hitting him on the back. “They’re soft, not stupid.”

“Those holy women should be thanking me then, me and my men got them to swear to their gods more loudly then any boring service would have roused them,” while he smiled and joked with his King, he was mentally kicking himself for overdoing that particular raid. Sure, it made him and his reavers wealthy beyond imagining when they filled the markets of Stromheim with comely slaves, fine silks, and all the precious metals their ships could carry, but it also made the local Imperials redouble their defensive works. Making future raids more difficult.

Though he’d be lying if he said he wouldn’t do it all again, even knowing the end result.

“So,” amused as he was at his King’s antics, he might as well get to the point of this meeting, “what is so important to summon me at this hour?”

“I’ve got something big planned,” Ivar grinned, strolling back up her throne. Her golden eyes shining like small fires admit the shadows of the room. “Spectacular even.”

“Does it have anything to do with them,” Erik glanced over at the small collection of small, hunched over figures desperately drinking in the fire’s warmth as they shivered even in their thick cloaks.

Hobgoblins.

A strange people who worshiped the All-Father in their own, equally strange, way. He’s had dealings with them in the past, mostly to restock supplies while on his way to raid the Imperial Colonies. But he’s never heard of them venturing this far north. He didn’t even think they had boats to sail to Stromheim!

“In a manner of speaking,” she propped up her head with her arm. “Tell me: how many men do you think you’d need to take Karpets?”

“The Imperial city?” though that damned place was more a fortress than a city. Rings of walls, a strong naval element, and interlocking canals that let it receive supply through its river rather than solely on land.

“The very same,” she crossed her legs, “so, how many?”

“We would need hundreds of longships, with thousands of warriors, at the very least,” he mulled over the numbers in his head. “With luck, I suppose we smash their defenses apart quickly and be out in a few days-“

“That’s not what I asked, cousin,” Ivar interrupted him, still grinning. “I asked how many you would need to take Karpets, not sack it.”

“Are you serious?” he looked for any sign this was some sort of joke. “We don’t have the numbers to take and hold any imperial land for any real length of time. The Legions will descend upon us-“

‘That’s not going to be a problem,” Ivar again interrupted him.

“Not a problem? You think the Imperials will just let us take a city from them?”

“I think they’ll have other concerns on their minds then a city at the edge of their world,” the King explained, “I saw it in a vision,”

“A vision?” From the All-Father went unsaid. As one of His Blessed, the All-Father impart visions from time to time so that she may lead their people to greater glory.

“Yes,” she closed her eyes. “In my dream I saw a boar painted imperial purple. It was an old thing, gray and white, bleeding from hunting spears to the gut beneath a blood red sun, its piglets squealing a demandable screech, and serpents slithering about waiting to gorge on its warm flesh. All the while dragons circled above like vultures. Even before I went to the priests, I knew what the All-Father was telling me: The Empire of today is a far cry from the Empire our forefathers warred with. It is a dying thing.”

“So then…” Some of the symbolism was evident even to him.

“And they,” she continued, pointing to the hobgoblins, “had similar visions from their own priests. It's obvious what the All-Father is telling us. He wishes us to join hand in hand and strike down the Empire, bringing an end to its degenerate existence!”

While Erik did not doubt the validity of his cousin’s claims, he did question the fervor in which she was championing it. The story tellers say it was similar fervor that drove their first war with the Empire two centuries ago, and that failed.

But then again, the war didn’t have the support of other faithful. Just the Northern peoples. Maybe with more aid…

Try as he might to keep his mind centered and reasonable, Ivar’s giddiness was infectious. All-consuming even.

“So I will ask again,” She looked down at him, her eyes holding an almost hypnotic quality to them, dragging him into a similar fervor she was showing. “How many men would you need to take the city in our God’s name?”

-------------------------------------
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