Chapter 77

Unexpected

 

Chateau de Cascasonne

"Tanya, help me with the cabbage," Mother Arryn called from the kitchen.

"I'm still fixing my gardening basket," Tanya replied.

"It can wait. We can't have a house without fermented cabbage," her mother said sternly.

Tanya groaned, set aside her work, and headed to the kitchen. "If only they'd let us carry our stuff."

"Don't be ridiculous. It's good enough that your husband managed to get us out of Arvena," said Arryn, as she placed finely sliced fresh cabbage into small earthen jars.

"Oh, my poor husband, always disappearing after finding us a home," said Tanya dramatically.

Arryn chuckled. "What luck for you to find a man like that. Still, I'm surprised you even agreed."

Tanya grinned. "With a face and body like that and that much coin, who wouldn't?"

"That's why I'm skeptical. He's too good to be interested in a simple farm girl like you."

"Mother!" Tanya complained, to which her mother laughed.

Despite their talks, Arryn knew well why Tanya had agreed. Despite Marc joining Lord Gottfried's military service, the family was still hard-pressed to pay special taxes to support the war. Their new overlord, Lord Gottfried, had let his men plunder if taxes weren't paid in full.

They would be in big debt, if not for a young traveling peddler who had just come to Bellandia. The man was looking for a wife and found Tanya attractive. Initially, Arryn disagreed because he intended to take Tanya out of the province, but the peddler convinced Arryn to move with him to Midlandia. He also didn't mind that the family couldn't afford a dowry.

Thus, they left a message for Marc at Connor, the butcher in case he came looking for them. They also left another message for Lansius, if he ever returned to Bellandia.

Lansius' story was a sad one. Tanya never mentioned the name anymore as it was a painful reminder of the grim news that Riverstead had fallen and that Lansius had likely perished alongside the Young Lord.

After two months on the road, the family finally arrived in Midlandia. There, Tanya's husband owned a house, a small farm, and even had a helper. He left them a sum of money without even staying a single night, departing hastily with the claim that he needed to sell his wares in the next town.

They didn't see him again until several days ago, when he returned to pick them up in a hurry and whisk them away to this chateau, claiming he had bagged an important deal with a noble.

"I can't believe that your husband is affiliated with the master of this big chateau. And the lord even allowed us to live here," said Arryn as she poured brine water into the earthen jar.

"The Lord of this chateau must've liked him enough," commented Tanya as she prepared another cabbage for the sauerkraut.

"If only you two are married for real," Arryn mused.

Tanya giggled. "But Mother, my marriage is real, at least on records."

"Well, married girl, time to learn to make good sauerkraut. Maybe then your husband will marry you for real," Arryn teased.

"Mother!" Tanya complained, her cheeks reddening, much to her mother's delight.

 

***

 

Korimor Region

Hugo and Michael had blockaded Korimor Castle and City, as instructed by Lord Lansius. The plan was simple, bordering on madness. They were to make no demands nor send envoys for discussion—only quietly occupy the area and block movements in and out of the city.

The troops were ordered merely to construct wooden fences, maintain their camps, organize patrols, and recuperate from the long journey. The nomads were allowed to graze far from camp and acted as eyes and ears around the area.

After three days of uncertainty, Korimor City finally signaled for talks with the joint force. However, Hugo and Michael feigned disinterest. Lord Lansius had instructed them to simply wait for the envoys to come knocking.

The city was baffled by the invaders’ continuous reluctance to negotiate or even make demands. Suspicion ran wild.

As if sensing the tension inside the city, Hugo and Michael sent a third of their troops southward under the cover of darkness. After several miles, the troops rested, ate breakfast at dawn, and then returned to their camp.

When they were within sight of Korimor City, the troops marched with great fanfare. It was a ruse, devised by Lord Lansius. The camp welcomed the fake reinforcements with trumpets, cavalry escorts, and formal greetings.

To complete the trick, they even had their men move and rebuild their camps to make it appear as if the camp was expanding due to the newcomers pitching their tents.

The Korelians and the White Lake forces found the affair amusing, but the Korimor defenders fell for it. The city risked opening its gates, sending three envoys with gifts, hoping for an opportunity to meet.

Seizing the opportunity, Hugo and Michael prepared their act.

The camp’s bustling activity helped maintain the illusion of a large army. It managed to impress the envoys as they were escorted into the command tent.

Hugo and Michael accepted the envoys, but instead of making demands, they acted more like guests trying to make acquaintances, rather than aggressors. Whenever the envoys sought demands or reasons for their presence, the Deputy and the one-eyed Knight showed reluctance to answer.

Finally, when it was clear that the conversation was going nowhere, Michael explained they were waiting for a transfer of power.

“Transfer of power?” asked one envoy in disbelief.

Michael nodded. “This is why we didn’t want to explain. It’s messy.”

Another envoy stepped forward. “Please enlighten us.”

Michael looked at Hugo, who nodded in agreement.

“Lord Lansius of Korelia has defeated and cornered Lord Omin. It’s only a matter of time before he is brought here,” the one-eyed Knight revealed.

This simple answer shocked the envoys. They finally understood why the invading force had not bothered with demands or a siege.

Not all the envoys were convinced. The Nicopolan mercenary envoy shook his head and spoke openly, “Do you have evidence for this claim?”

His combative tone made the other envoys nervous.

“What kind of proof would you like?” Hugo asked disinterestedly.

“We have the trinkets,” Michael reminded him.

Sighing as if troubled, Hugo gestured for his lieutenant to bring forward a large wooden box. Upon opening it, he pulled out an intricately embroidered pillow. “This was taken from Lord Omin’s camp,” he claimed.

The envoys were stunned. It seemed their lord’s baggage had been captured.

They cautiously examined the box’s contents. “Hey, be careful! This is my personal stash,” Hugo warned, adding pressure to the envoys. “Not everything here is from your lord. We also have items from Lord Jorge’s tents.”

While they didn’t recognize the silk, luxury items, or golden trinkets, they were convinced that such valuables were beyond the means of a mere Deputy from Korelia. Thus, it was clear these items had been spoils taken from the Coalition Lord’s baggage train.

Only the Nicopolan envoy remained skeptical. “We have six thousand men and siege engines. How could you possibly defeat them?”

Instead of answering, Deputy Hugo and Sir Michael merely looked at each other. At that moment, Daniella entered the tent to the envoys’ surprise.

Ignoring the envoys, she approached Hugo and Michael. “Deputy, Sir, my men among the reinforcements are accounted for.”

“Daniella, why are you with them?” demanded the Nicopolan envoy.

Daniella faced the mercenary squarely; he was one of the company leaders who had stayed behind. “What else can I do? I fulfilled my contract. Lord Omin was defeated and fled, leaving everyone to die.”

"That's utter nonsense!" The envoy was in denial.

Daniella simply shook her head, looking at him with contempt. It turned into a staring contest, but she didn't back down. Eventually, the Nicopolan envoy lowered his gaze and fell silent, realizing that no amount of bickering would change the fact that their side had lost the war.

While the details could wait, Daniella's presence on the opponent's side was the strongest evidence that Lord Omin's defeat was real.

Daniella turned to the other two envoys. "Lord Lansius is a better leader. He has grand plans for Lowlandia and is generous to those who support him."

Distraught that even Lady Daniella had switched sides, the envoys finally relented. The House they represented had only a young boy as a possible heir, not even old enough to be a squire. Meanwhile, there were mercenaries whose loyalty was questionable but who would happily switch sides if offered better terms.

The fact that Lady Daniella was on the opposing side clearly indicated where the mercenaries' loyalty stood.

Behind closed doors, the House had confided their worst-case scenario to their envoys. Now, as an extension of the House's hands, the envoys began offering terms to Hugo and Sir Michael. Their goal was to negotiate before the captured Lord Omin was paraded in front of the city, which would embarrass their master and the House for eternity. Another reason was to prevent an internal struggle between loyalists who wanted to free their master and those who wanted to defend their holdings at the cost of everyone else.

To resist meant to allow internal strife to consume the city while also facing external threats. The envoys didn't want that and understood that most Lowlandians would simply choose to accept a new Lord.

For the men-at-arms and commoners, Lord Omin and Lord Lansius were just another set of conquerors—the fourth to hold the city in less than ten years, from Jorge to his rebelling uncle, then to Omin who rebelled against his master, and now to Lord Lansius. In an internal struggle, they would not have the support of the populace, further risking conflict.

Therefore, the envoys hoped that negotiating now would yield better results, or at least some leniency in the terms.

...

After achieving a breakthrough, the envoys took their leave to discuss the matter with the reigning House and the rest of the city’s defenders.

Hugo, Michael, and Daniella stood in front of their command tent, watching the three envoys ride their horses back to the city gates.

“Nice work,” Michael congratulated Hugo.

“Couldn’t have done it without you, sir,” Hugo replied.

“Gentlemen,” Daniella interrupted, “I’ve received reports from our nomad friends.”

“Something happened?” Hugo inquired.

Daniella exhaled sharply. “Thousands are approaching the city from the west.”

Hugo’s smile faded. “Thousands? From the Three Hills area?”

“It’s the route Nicopolans like me used to take when traveling from our home province,” Daniella clarified.

Hugo studied her. “Are you implying they’re Nicopolan mercenaries?”

Daniella met his gaze. “The nomads believe they’re likely refugees.”

“Seeking refuge in Lowlandia? But why?” Sir Michael interjected, puzzled.

“A great famine,” Daniella replied, the words leaving a bad taste in her mouth.

 

***

 

Nicopola Province

For two years, bad harvests had plagued the Nicopola region. This was not uncommon; agriculture is inherently dependent on the whims of sun, rain, and weather. However, the province faced a plethora of additional problems that exacerbated the situation.

Decades of high population growth, a continuous decline in fertile land due to the nobility expansion, and a large influx of refugees from the western wars had all pushed the province to its breaking point. The land and its people simply couldn’t keep up with the increasing demands for food.

Now, they were on the brink of yet another bad harvest. The evidence was clear for all to see: even near the end of summer, the fields were a lifeless brown with no hint of green. There was no hope for improvement, only the prospect of another season of harrowing famine and a deadly winter.

Panic set in, and people began raiding merchants and small communities for food supplies. Tensions boiled over among the three feuding factions: Nicopolan commoners, war refugees from West Centuria, and migrants from Sarmatia. Each blamed the others for the crisis.

Each group had endured unbearable pain and losses over the past two winters. This year, their patience had worn thin, and all sides were prepared for armed conflict. What began as isolated incidents of raiding soon escalated into widespread unrest. That summer, with everyone suspicious and hurting, the conflict entered a bloody new stage.

In unprecedented chaos since the founding of the Imperium, Nicopola was swept up in a massive armed conflict. Unguarded villages, manors, and weakly defended towns were sacked indiscriminately.

The noblemen tried to marshal their forces to contain the unrest but failed spectacularly. Unexpectedly, they lost the support of the middle class. As famine ravaged every social stratum, men-at-arms chose sides to protect their families and communities, rendering the nobles powerless.

Without sufficient manpower, the nobles retreated to their castles and ramparts, effectively becoming hostages in their own domains.

The crisis reached its peak, and the land was plundered clean. Within a month, not a single granary in Nicopola remained standing.

The high percentage of mercenaries among Nicopola’s population made the conflict particularly deadly. Ironically, more food was lost to pillaging and arson than was gained.

Fall and winter were yet to come, but tens of thousands—primarily infants and the elderly—had already paid the ultimate price.

The Nicopolan crisis soon spilled over into neighboring provinces, many of which were already grappling with their problems and committed to different fronts. Suddenly, the situation in the Imperium’s heartland became dire.

Despite the urgency of the situation, no help arose. The Imperium failed to even send a detachment.

A grave mistake of such magnitude didn’t go unnoticed. For those in power with keen insights, it was as good as a revelation. Three lords saw through the chaos and found the evidence they were seeking.

Lord Gottfried, ever ambitious, was the first to act. He mustered his forces and spread rumors that the Emperor was ill and held hostage by the High Lords. This successfully sowed chaos among the populace and emboldened his followers in the north, who began to openly hail him as the King of Brigantes.

Fearing turmoil in the Capital, Lord Luis of Centuria began halting reinforcements to the western front. Although aware this could risk a total collapse against the nomadic incursion, he felt he had no other options.

Meanwhile, in Midlandia, Lord Bengrieve was clandestinely preparing his men for reasons that remained unclear.

While these lords pursued their agendas, their arrogance blinded them to the dagger at their jugular. Against all expectations, before the end of summer, massive groups of armed individuals emerged from Nicopola and invaded neighboring provinces. The crisis was in full swing and expanding exponentially.

The most devastating attack occurred in Elandia, sending its populace into panic. The region hadn’t seen a strong harvest for nearly a decade, and the conflict now threatened to make them abandon their fields just months before harvest time. Famine seemed almost certain to befall a region already strained by hosting a sizable garrison against potential attack from Lord Gottfried’s army in Arvena.

With Centuria occupied fighting against the nomadic incursions, Elandia served as the last lifeline for the Capital area. Its harvests and trade routes to Midlandia and Nicopola were vital for sustaining the Capital. Losing Elandia—especially after the loss of Arvena—would lead to total isolation from the rest of the Imperium.

Armed groups also threatened to breach Midlandia's borders, prompting Lord Bengrieve to put his plans on hold and mobilize his private army to reinforce defenses in western Midlandia. Amidst a succession crisis, this move risked weakening his grip over the region.

 

***

 

Korelia Castle

The news of the crisis in Nicopola and Elandia had yet to reach Korelia. There, the newlywed couple, still on their honeymoon, received a special visitor. Batu, the nomadic leader, had returned. Having heard about the Lord’s marriage, he came bearing lavish wedding gifts.

But first, another matter demanded attention. Sir Harold escorted a prisoner brought by Batu directly into the castle, where the Lord of Korelia was holding a special court session.

All parties had denied the prisoner’s request for a bath and change of clothes. With little sympathy, Sir Harold pushed the man onto the cold floor, disregarding his high status. No one was in the mood for leniency; they knew this man was responsible for last year’s spike in grain prices that had nearly starved them.

“My Noyan, I present to you the architect of the siege of Korelia,” Batu announced, proudly.

“So this is the man who orchestrated our near-starvation?” the Lord inquired coldly.

Suddenly, a manic laugh echoed through the Great Hall, catching everyone by surprise. It came from the Lady seated beside the Lord.

Confused glances were exchanged among those in attendance. There seemed to be no immediate reason for her outburst.

Without care, the Lady boldly approached the prisoner and locked eyes with him. The man abruptly looked away, shuddering uncontrollably.

“So it really was you, cousin,” she said, her voice dripping with contempt.

The hall fell into stunned silence.

 

***