They limped back to Fort Camulan without another battle. Aeolwyn was thankful for that. If some reserve army had been around, there would be nothing left of his own army. Unlike Flint, he had made sure to send scouts out in every direction, with no sign of the enemy.

  He still couldn’t believe that the general and commander were both dead. How had Fraius been able to get into the outpost? He knew there was a hole in the basement, but guards had been set to watch it, in addition to the guards that were on patrol outside the fort.

  The easy answer was that there must be someone helping him, and his first suspicion was the man that claimed to see him escape from the general’s quarters. He wanted Reiva to speak to Soldier Albus, but he couldn’t be found. The man had deserted along with many others.

  As soon as they reached the fort, he sent a pair of runners back to the capital for instructions. No one questioned him when he took command, not even the captains of the other divisions who had stayed behind in the fort. He wasn’t sure if it was because he was a prince, or because he was the one who stopped the battle from becoming a slaughter.

  He ordered a meeting of all the soldiers to take place a few days after they’d arrived. They needed to pick a temporary leader until Lord-General Harmin sent someone to take over. He would have done it sooner, but the soldiers who had fought in the battle needed time to rest and tend to their injuries.

  After the meeting, he would send some men back to the outpost to recover the bodies of Commander Boede and General Alaric. He wished they could have done it after the battle, but he was afraid of a second attack if they stayed, so their burials would have to wait until it was safe.

  They held the meeting in the largest room they had, the mess hall. It was the room where the soldiers took their meals. Like much of the rest of Fort Camulan, it was unadorned with any decoration, safe for fading battle flags and shields captured from enemies of long-ago battles.

  It was a large hall with a tall dais at one end where the commander would sit to eat if he took his meals with his men. Long tables were arranged in rows along the floor of the hall, divided by tall wood posts that held up the roof. It was dirty and dusty and smelled of old food, despite being cleaned every morning.

  Today, it was filled to capacity. Every soldier in the fort had arrived for their voice to be heard. Aeolwyn took a place on the dais along with Galafar and Brakus, who were there to ensure fair voting.

  The men cheered when Aeolwyn entered. Cheered! During his time in Fort Camulan, he’d never seen any soldiers cheer General Alaric when he held meetings like this. They just talked among themselves until he began to speak.

  He held up his hands and they quieted down.

  “As you know, General Alaric and Commander Boede were killed in the battle of Lannic Outpost,” he started. “In their place, I have assumed temporary command to keep things in order. Runners have been sent to Lord-General Harmin to request or appoint a replacement general as quickly as possible.”

  A few boos broke out when he mentioned the message sent to Lord-General Harmin. He waved them to silence again.

  “In the meantime, we need a temporary general. I don’t know how it is normally done, but I have decided to put it to a vote. Since you men will be fighting and dying on the orders of your general, it is only fair that you have a voice in picking who that will be.”

  “Prince Aeolwyn!” someone shouted. Others cheered in agreement.

  He continued, trying to ignore the calls. “I have nominated Corporal Brakus, who is a competent leader who you all seem to trust. Are there any other nominations?”

  “Prince Aeolwyn!” another voice shouted.

  Brakus stepped forward. “I nominate Captain Aeolwyn to be our next general, and damn what Lord-General Harmin says!”

  The soldiers in the hall all erupted into cheers, amid calls of “Prince Aeolwyn!” and “The boy general!”

  He tried to calm them down, but they would not be calm. They kept chanting his name. How could he hold the vote if they wouldn’t quiet down?

  Brakus leaned over and put his hand on Aeolwyn’s shoulder. “The soldiers have spoken. Congratulations, General Aeolwyn.”

  He didn’t want to be the permanent general. He was barely a captain, and too early for that. Now they wanted him to be their general?”

  Brakus pointed to one of the men in the front row. “Farvarir, send message to the lord-general. We have picked our new General. No need to send another.”

  “But what of the king? My father will surely override this vote.”

  “Fuck the king!” someone shouted. “Prince Aeolwyn is our general!”

  Aeolwyn sighed. That was that then. He wanted the men to choose, and they had. They had unanimously promoted him to general. He was afraid of what his father would say. Would he approve? Surely not. It was one thing to trust him with commanding an outpost or a small company of men, but an entire fort? That was out of the question.

  But the men chose him. He was their general.

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  ***

  “Who in Laryn does that damned brother of mine think he is?” Alfyn shouted. “His exile was punishment, not a promotion!”

  He was supposed to be dead. How had he managed to avoid not just the assassins he had sent, but the suicide missions Alfyn had ordered him on? Not only had he survived those, but now his men had voted him general? The audacity of those men! He should call up the knights of the realm and march on Fort Camulan.

  Lord-General Harmin had interrupted his midday meal as soon as the second missive had arrived, telling the lord-general they didn’t need him to appoint a new general. This was only a day after Aeolwyn had sent a messenger asking for one. What game was his brother playing at?

  “This is treason,” he said. “Send a messenger with some soldiers to arrest Aeolwyn.”

  He refilled his wine cup for the third time. He shouldn’t drink so much in the afternoon, but he needed something to calm him down. If he got drunk, he could just tell Smyton to cancel all his meetings. That was one of the benefits of being regent.

  “Your grace,” Harmin said. “That would not be wise. Any messenger sent would have his head returned and nothing else.”

  “Are you saying the men of Fort Camulan would revolt? Then we will call up the knights. We will take him by force.”

  Harmin gave Alfyn a weak smile. He didn’t approve of this plan either. “The Fenns have invaded our territory and razed an outpost,” Harmin said. “If that is not an act of war, I don’t know what is. Now is not the time for infighting. We can’t show any weakness to them. If we march on our own fort, we might as well open the gates for the Fennish king ourselves.”

  Alfyn slammed the cup down. He was, of course, right. He couldn’t afford to lose a single man at Fort Camulan, nor could he give the enemy the chance to suspect there was any conflict between him and his brother.

  “What do you suggest?” he asked.

  “Confirm his appointment as general of Fort Camulan, your grace. He has proven clever and capable as a leader. His mentor, Sir Jom, is one of the greatest tacticians in all of Laryndor, and your brother appears to have taken his lessons to heart.”

  That was the opposite of what he wanted to do, but he could see no other way around it. Aeolwyn had won this round, but it was early yet. He would yet see his brother fall.

  He nodded. “Very well but call up some knights anyway. Send them with the message. If we are to confirm his appointment, maybe some snotty nobles will undermine his authority.”

  Harmin frowned but nodded. “It will be as you say, your grace.”

  He dismissed Harmin with a wave. Instead of going back to his lunch, he poured himself another cup of wine. He needed to think. He needed another plan to deal with Aeolwyn. He needed allies in Fort Camulan. Allies outside of the army. Someone he could trust, unlike that assassin who had not only failed in her job, but was, by all accounts, sharing his brother’s bed.

  What was the name of that sea captain he had sent after Ulfnar? He couldn’t remember. While he was sure he wouldn’t be loyal to Alfyn because he was the king’s regent, he was sure he would be loyal to Alfyn’s gold.

  According to the reports, after kidnapping Ulfnar, he had sold his brother to a Tambrynese woman. As far as his spies knew, Ulfnar was still being held in a tower in the Great Bog. Quite fitting, if he did say so himself.

  Commodore Tyrec was his name. Alfyn would have to send word to him. He was sure Tyrec would have new and inventive ways of dealing with General Aeolwyn.

  ***

  Child Albus had arrived with the body of Fraius, and a stranger. Longinus mourned his friend. They laid him out in the Grand Chapel with all honors. Two Children stood guard over his body and candles were lit at his head and feet.

  His body was in a sorry state, pale, but not bloated. A large hole skewered him through the chest where his heart should be, and his left arm was missing above the elbow. The prince had done this? Dispatched his best assassin seemingly with ease?

  Albus could not explain what happened. He was too busy in the shield wall during the battle. He had fought with the enemy, but weakly, as he was ordered to. When he saw the battle had been going their way, he was content to stay in place, but when the prince rallied his troops and decimated the Fenns, Albus wisely fled to bring news to Lord Longinus.

  His alliance with the Fenns was at an end. The king failed to live up to his end of the bargain, the Fennish invasion was already at an end. Longinus needed new allies.

  He contemplated the man Child Albus had brought with him. A tall stocky man with a pock-marked face. An eyepatch covered one eye. He was dirt and covered with soot but stood with a bearing of a man used to such conditions.

  “And who is your lord, master...?”

  “Dillon, your grace,” he said. “I owe allegiance to Lady Larella of Tambryne.”

  “Your Radiance,” Longinus corrected. He didn’t know anyone named Lady Larella in Tambryne. He would send enquiries to the chapter in Tambryne City as to her nature.

  “Do you believe we can be of assistance to each other?” Longinus asked.

  “Yes, Your Radiance,” Dillon said. That was good. He didn’t need a second correction. That would be trouble if he did. If he needed a third, well the audience would be at an immediate end.

  “I believe we want similar goals,” the man with the patch continued. “You want Aeolwyn dead, and we want his bodyguard Reiva dead. Working together, I think we can accomplish these goals.”

  “I agree with you,” Longinus said. “Send for your lady so we may discuss these terms in person.”

  “What of Fraius, Your Radiance?” Albus asked.

  “An assassin in a sorry state,” he replied. “We will have to help him.”

  “But he’s dead,” Dillon said.

  “Not to me,” Longinus said. He held his staff out and Listened to the Gods. A black glow surrounded his body as he directed the flows of magic. He weaved the appropriate spell and channeled it into Fraius.

  The dark glow left his fingers and staff and enveloped Star Child Fraius. His wounds knitted together, though his arm didn’t regrow. He would have his alchemists fit him with a prosthetic.

  His eyes popped open, though his body retained its deathly pallor. That was permanent, he was afraid. Fortunately, the stink of death could be masked, though not entirely eliminated.

  “Can you hear my, Child Fraius?” he asked.

  “Yes, Your Radiance,” Fraius answered in a halting, raspy voice.

  Longinus smiled. He didn’t do this often, as it was frowned upon by most mages throughout Laryndor, and if word got out that the Lord of the Courageous Order of Heavens knew and used necromantic magic, that would spell an end to their religion. But this was Fraius. He was too useful to allow to rot in the ground.

  He realized that he would have to pivot and stop going directly after the king of Camulan and his son. Dillon’s arrival was a blessing that the one-eyed man didn’t understand. By coming here, he revealed the instability of the Grand Duchy of Tambryne. If his Lady Larella was coming to him for help keeping Archduke Rovaielle on the throne, that meant this plot to unseat him was more powerful than they could manage.

  Which meant that he could pretend to help and unseat Rovaielle himself. Archduke Longinus had a nice ring to it, and having resources of Tambryne meant they could devote all of their resources to building their strength. The evils of the heavens were coming, and Laryndor had to be protected, no matter the cost.

  They would have their revenge on Prince Aeolwyn if they had to burn all of Camulan to the ground, but it would have to wait.