The Fall of Erlon (The Falling Empires Saga Book 1) Page 13

  Rapp turned right and headed down the main street in the direction of the Ascended One’s temple. He took a glance at the holy building in the distance, but his eyes settled on his destination and the Moradan flag hanging over the door of the second house along the street.

  A servant let him into the foyer of the delegate housing and exited deeper into the building to announce the prince’s arrival. Leberecht came back quickly and burst through the door at the far end of the room.

  “I figured you’d come and see me eventually.” The jolly man moved towards Rapp and stretched his arms out for a hug. Rapp was engulfed quickly and felt the rolling stomach of the large man press against him. It was what Rapp expected being sat on by a Kurakin mammoth would feel like.

  “Good to see you too, Uncle,” Rapp said.

  “How is my favorite royal?” Leberecht released Rapp and held him at arm’s length. “Would you like a drink? Something to eat?” He beckoned Rapp to follow him and the pair walked deeper into the house.

  Rapp had never been in the servants’ quarters before, but the study in the next room seemed nice enough. It featured plush chairs, strong wooden tables, a large fireplace, and bookshelves lining the walls.

  Leberecht waved to the center of the study, where olives and various slices of meat were laid out on platters. He motioned for Rapp to take a chair by the fireplace as he took the one opposite.

  “I’m fine, thank you.” Rapp wanted to get straight to the point of his visit. As much as he wanted to catch up with his old mentor, a divine quest took precedent.

  Leberecht had other ideas.

  “You know, this is my first time all the way up here, on the plateau. It’s more beautiful than even I imagined.” He leaned forward to reach the food platters and took up a handful of olives.

  “You were never invited up even when you lived in the city?” That surprised Rapp. He took his seat across from Leberecht.

  The ambassador laughed. “No, I was quite poor when I lived here. Skinnier, too.” Leberecht slapped his gut once as he discarded an olive pit and put two more olives into his mouth. “I was born on a farm just north of here. Lots of poverty up there.”

  Rapp leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs. He looked directly at Leberecht and launched into the topic he wanted to bring up before Leberecht could continue.

  “I have something important to discuss with you.”

  “To business immediately? I see you haven’t changed a bit.” Leberecht smiled around his mouthful. He set the olives back on the platter and turned to give the prince his full attention. “What do you want to discuss?”

  “Something has come to my attention that’s more important than us catching up.” Rapp looked Leberecht in the eye and took a breath. “I believe there’s a traitor at this summit.”

  Leberecht’s eyebrows rose, but he didn’t say anything. His mouth hung open.

  “I trust most of the diplomats here,” Rapp continued. “But I have reason to believe that some faction or someone within a faction doesn’t have the Coalition’s best interests in mind.”

  Leberecht shook his head and seemed to come out of his daze. He blinked and cleared his throat. “What makes you say this?”

  Rapp had thought all week on how to answer this question without telling Leberecht about the divine voice. He’d settled on the best response he could think of and now hoped it would be enough.

  “Any time a group of diplomats comes together, there are always competing interests.”

  Leberecht shrugged. “Naturally.”

  “But with a summit this important, this historic, I fear there may be some who have more sinister plans afoot.”

  Leberecht nodded once. He looked down at the ground and scratched his clean-shaven chin. “I can agree with that. But why are you coming to me with your concerns? Go to your mother—she’s the summit’s host.”

  Rapp shook his head. He looked at the soot-covered stones of the dead fireplace to his left. “Mother and I can’t agree on much right now, ever since she forced me to return here from the front.” Rapp gripped the arms of his chair as if they were hilts of swords. He looked back up at Leberecht. “And besides, I don’t want the whole palace to be searching for a traitor. That will only give up the game and let the enemy know we’re looking.”

  Leberecht pursed his lips and nodded again in agreement.

  “I want your help, though. Help me watch the members of the summit. Help me find someone passing information to the Erlonian loyalists or trying to undermine the Coalition to gain more power in the future. Help me burn out the traitor.”

  Leberecht smiled and didn’t give the request as much thought as Rapp had assumed he would. The ambassador clapped his hands together almost immediately and took in a breath. “Of course, Your Highness, I’m honored you thought me a strong enough diplomat to assist you. Who are your main suspects?”

  * * *

  Rapp left Leberecht’s house a few hours later. The sun was close to its apex now and Rapp’s head spun with the thoughts from his discussion with the ambassador.

  Leberecht had agreed with Rapp’s main suspects of Thirona and Ambassador Trier and he’d proposed a few more names that seemed plausible and worth watching.

  Rapp was confident that his choice to bring Leberecht in to help with his mission was the correct one. The ambassador was someone Rapp had always been able to count on and had always been a good mentor and friend.

  Rapp climbed the steps up to the palace and nodded in return to the bows from the guards. His boots echoed loudly across the entrance hall and off the steps of the grand staircase.

  He’d missed his mother’s strategy meeting with her delegates, but that was no matter. Rapp would tell her he was praying again.

  It felt good to talk through his thinking with someone he trusted. He was now moving forward with his divine task. He felt like he’d made progress today.

  Always attack. Always push forward.

  That is what the Ascended One preached. That is how the god conquered the Continent and ascended to the heavens.

  Rapp would emulate him and complete his task.

  Tomorrow, the summit would continue and Rapp would push onward with his search for the traitor. He would be another day closer to fulfilling the divine request and gaining glory from the Ascended One.

  Chapter 11

  Lannes owed much of his early military success to his alliance with the Lakmian tribes. The young emperor succeeded in gaining the trust of the fair and martial race where centuries of statesmen had failed before.

  Tome of the Emperor

  Nelson Wellesley

  Elisa

  Elisa’s escort stopped for lunch near a small stream in the woods. The horses were watered and fed and the soldiers not on scouting duty stood in small groups, talking quietly or resting against trees.

  Elisa drifted between the groups but didn’t join any conversations. Mon and Lauriston and a guardsman were on the far side, sitting under a tree. Quatre and some of the sharpshooters dealt out a quick game of bisset, as they always did. Elisa finished the last of her trail biscuit and stepped into a small patch of grass in an opening in the trees away from the main group.

  The opening was a few paces across and allowed a spot of sunlight to shoot through the canopy and warm the back of her neck. They’d been traveling for five days now and her thoughts still wouldn’t stop running through the events of the past few days over and over.

  The vision appearing in the woods for the first time.

  Running from the farm.

  The escape from the Scythes.

  Marshal Lauriston and her father’s greatest warriors now traveling with her.

  The Farmer Montholon was not just a farmer.

  He knew the marshal, Mon had fought with him.

  Too many thoughts, too much to think about.

  Elisa needed a distraction. She drew her sword and watched the steel gleam in the ray of sunlight.

  Erlon was falling.
Her father’s empire would soon be nothing but dust. Plancenoit had been sacked and Elisa was on the run, chased by Kurakin Scythes.

  But Elisa’s guide had said she was important at the start of the war. That one phrase stuck in her mind and gave her an inkling of hope, or at least mystery.

  Had the guide misspoken? Should she even trust a strange vision who appeared to her in the woods? That kind of thing only happened in legends or in the Ascended One’s tome, and her guide was definitely not a messenger from the Continent’s war god.

  He was Lakmian, to start, and didn’t seem to be inclined to warfare or fighting of any kind. But if he wasn’t from the Ascended One’s legion, then where was he from?

  It was too many questions for Elisa’s mind to think through them now. Everything made her head hurt.

  She spun her sword and took up a practice stance with the sunlight gleaming off the blade. She glanced at the closest group of soldiers. None of them were paying attention to her. Her mind cleared and only focused on the weight of the blade.

  She went through her first step. A slow circle with parries against an imaginary enemy. She pictured attacks in her mind and let her sword turn them away.

  She completed the move and started back the other direction. Slow steps. Deliberate parries. And a thrust or two between. She ended up with her feet back in her original position.

  Elisa took a deep breath and felt her mind settle down a bit. Her first practice series was complete and the imaginary opponent fell away. She looked up and was startled to find Lodi standing in front of her.

  “Hello.” The Lakmian had a big smile on his face.

  “Sorry, General.” Elisa felt her face grow red. “I was just practicing.”

  “No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” The Lakmian pulled his spear out from his back. “Care for a sparring partner?”

  Elisa’s mouth hung half open. She’d had training partners back at the palace, but they’d always used practice swords. And she’d never fought against an opponent with a spear. Let alone a Lakmian.

  “It’s okay.” Lodi spun the spear once and Elisa saw the lean muscles in his arm tense in a strength she couldn’t hope to match. “Your sword won’t hurt me. And I can show you some of our Lakmian moves.”

  Elisa felt a ridiculous flutter of fear in her chest. Lodi was an ally to Erlon, he was one of her father’s friends and a general in his army. But standing in front of an armed Lakmian would have that effect on any person.

  Elisa didn’t want to be afraid. She buried the flutter in her chest and nodded to Lodi. The Lakmian smiled.

  He spun his spear faster than Elisa thought possible and ended in an attacking stance. She brought her sword up and shifted her feet into a defensive position, but would’ve been entirely too slow had Lodi actually attacked her.

  Elisa’s heartbeat had picked up. This still didn’t seem like the smartest idea.

  Lodi raised an eyebrow at her. Elisa’s thoughts ran wild, half of them screaming for her to not even try against the Lakmian techniques. She beat the thoughts away and took in a breath.

  She smiled at Lodi.

  Her thoughts were clear again. She thought on what her father and her training masters in the palace had taught her. They’d started her young, especially for a girl, and Elisa had loved every minute of their drills.

  Ever a Lannes, Elisa decided to make the first move.

  She lunged forward with a quick step. Her sword darted into Lodi’s stance. The Lakmian appeared to only shrug one shoulder in response and Elisa’s jab was pushed sideways.

  Lodi’s spear returned to the same position. Elisa was sure it moved, but her eyes didn’t track the parry at all. It was almost like the wind had pushed her sword away.

  Lodi raised his eyebrow again. Elisa’s heart rate hammered. By now a few of the other soldiers had noticed them and were watching. She couldn’t back away now.

  She took in a breath. Before she could fully exhale, the Lakmian attacked.

  Elisa parried the thrust clumsily. She stepped back and felt her stance waver and her balance shift. Lodi spun with the momentum of his thrust and pressed into her. The butt of his spear came up and around and stopped right in front of Elisa’s face.

  She didn’t duck and she never could’ve gotten her sword up to block the attack. Lodi would’ve put her on the ground if it had been a real fight.

  One of the soldiers nearby applauded Lodi’s win. Elisa’s face reddened. She took another step back and reset her stance.

  “I didn’t go easy on you,” Lodi said.

  “I didn’t expect you to.” Elisa wiped a strand of her hair from her face and prepared for another go.

  “I can teach you that move,” Lodi said. He stood in a neutral stance with his spear under his arm.

  “With a spear?” Elisa straightened her own stance.

  “It works with a sword.” Lodi shrugged. “All our movement techniques can be used with any weapon. They were created for hand-to-hand combat originally.”

  Elisa had read about the famous Lakmian fighting methods. She’d seen the Lakmians in her father’s army practicing their breathing and steps and fighting movements during drills. She’d heard stories about how fierce they could be in battle and how hard they were to defeat.

  The memory of Lodi’s spear taking down the wolverine charging at Mon returned to her. He’d thrown it from a long distance and from horseback, too. Without Lodi, she and Mon would be dead.

  She met the Lakmian’s eye and nodded.

  “The key is in your feet.” Lodi took three slow steps and repeated his earlier twirl. This time it was slow enough for Elisa to follow. “Think of your body like river water, flowing where the banks of the land take you. Your feet are the guiding rocks on the bank.”

  The metaphor didn’t completely resonate with Elisa, but she watched Lodi’s feet and tried to copy the steps.

  Three steps. One. Two. Three.

  Elisa almost fell over on the third step. It didn’t seem hard, but somehow her balance felt off. She glanced back towards the main group and was thankful the soldiers had gone back to talking among themselves.

  Lodi gave her some pointers and she tried again and did better this time. The third time felt perfect, but Lodi had her go again and again until she felt dizzy.

  “The actual attack adds another element. Use your arms to guide your weapon. Same as your feet guide the flow of your body.”

  Lodi showed her the movement and had her practice. Elisa felt she had the hang of it, but wasn’t moving as fast as Lodi yet. She’d have to practice this along with her normal movements now.

  Lodi did the steps with her over and over and continued to give pointers until Lauriston called for the group to mount up again for the afternoon ride.

  “Thank you, Lodi,” Elisa said as they walked back to their horses.

  “Of course. I can show you more if you want.”

  “I’d love that.” Elisa glanced towards the front of the group and saw Mon mounting his horse next to Lauriston. The brief distraction of training hadn’t made her forget her questions surrounding the old farmer. Now seemed as good a time as ever to ask more about him. “Did my father have you teach the Lakmian fighting methods to his soldiers?”

  “Some units,” Lodi said. “Like the guard.”

  That was the answer Elisa had been hoping for. “So Montholon knows them?”

  Lodi chuckled. “He knows a few. Although he’s probably forgotten most of it by now. I bet his flexibility is a bit rusty too.”

  Elisa couldn’t picture the old general moving the same way Lodi did at all.

  “You knew Mon well, back when he was in the army?”

  Lodi looked at her. His smile weakened and Elisa knew he understood where her question came from.

  “I’d imagine he didn’t tell you his full story,” Lodi said. His expression and the tone of his next comment surprised Elisa. “Be careful digging those stories up, Princess. Mon has a long history in the arm
y, with your father too. And not all of it’s glorious like the stories.”

  Elisa could see the warning clearly behind Lodi’s eyes even as the Lakmian returned to smiling. Lodi knew Mon’s full story. He’d probably been there for most of it.

  “Give Mon his peace if he wants it. He’ll tell you when he’s ready, but don’t push him,” Lodi said.

  Elisa nodded. That sounded like sage advice. She could respect boundaries, but the thoughts and questions didn’t stop stomping around her head at all.

  The pair finished readying their horses and mounted up. The line of Lauriston’s men reformed and the trek north resumed. Elisa thought on Mon and what could possibly have happened to merit Lodi’s warning to her.

  Lodi turned the conversation back to more tips on the Lakmian attack move he’d just showed her. Elisa listened and responded to his advice, but half her mind remained on Montholon. Lodi had only piqued her interest even more.

  She would respect Mon and not ask him directly. That seemed like the right thing to do for now. But she wondered if she could figure out what happened on her own somehow.

  The group continued north and Elisa rode next to Lodi and dwelt on her thoughts. Her mind ran wild with Mon’s history and his younger days fighting with her father’s army and the mysteries of how he ended up on the old farm.

  Rapp

  Rapp exited the palace and felt the thick evening air cling to him. The day had been unseasonably hot and humid as the last bits of fall fought to hang on before the chill of winter set in fully.

  Rapp turned and moved towards Leberecht’s quarters. He took a quick glance over his shoulder to the western horizon beyond the front of the palace. The dusk sky exploded with bright colors of fire around massive thunderheads.

  The prince felt a familiar longing, the strong pull of the war that simmered beyond that horizon. The voice in the back of his mind screamed for him to leave the plateau and find a fight.