“I’m fairly sure not six months ago we stood together as a family and promised to avoid precisely this sort of scenario.”

Arden raised an eyebrow and turned to the portly merchant stood to his right, remembering the day the Tantalum troupe had made lofty promises of peace and prosperity and staying out of the limelight.

“We were never any good at sticking to our guns.”

“So, what exactly are we doing here?”

“Errr,” the swordsman frowned.

“No, I didn’t think you knew.”

“…the right thing?”

Neither of the duo believed that, and yet somehow the standing force of Scara Brae stood on the Catenae Flats before the city of Radasanth ready to defend to the last the very thing they hated.

“I bet Valeena was livid.” Leopold chuckled.

“She will be when she finds out…”

For a moment, midst a gentle yet ominous breeze the Knights Brae watched the horizon as one. Though their recent conflict defending their own home against the constant array of tyrants and tosspots had tempered their resolve, each man and woman felt the weight of misplaced responsibility anew.

“Hang on…” Leopold stepped forwards into his brother’s view, eyebrow raised, smile curled into a gesture of contempt. “The queen didn’t give her ascent?”

“Not in such direct terms…no.”

“You ordered near six thousand soldiers to Corone to fight on her behalf…without her knowing…”

“I didn’t need to apply much encouragement, not everyone obsesses with freedom as much as we do.” Arden’s words danced in the wind and fell away like blossoms falling from the last strength of summer. As imposing as he was ahead of an army, with the truth laid bare he became vulnerable, unsure, and just a little afraid.

“You’re insufferably pious sometimes…” The merchant couldn’t see any point pressing the matter further.

“Just let’s see to this ‘Veritas’ and leave the queen to me.”

“Oh,” Leopold scoffed as he fell back into line, pistol in one hand, a hip flask in the other. “Oh no, when you break the news to her I want to be there, front row, and ready to piss on your burning corpse.”

Arden rolled his eyes. Though Leopold had a peculiar way about it, the swordsman new it was as close to a show of support as he was going to get. In the distance, an insurgent force marched on the city walls with intent, a murderous rallying cry to overthrow what little political autonomy the people of Corone had carved out for themselves in the wake of the Empire’s collapse. Though far from ideal, and still the sovereign power pressing down hard on Scara Brae’s coffers, it’s people did not deserve to be carved and split in the cobbled avenues of Radasanth’s corrupted heart.

“Have you finished?”

“Yes general,” Leopold smirked. “It is my duty to offer counsel in times of war.” He added a few choice insults in his head, but the expression on Arden’s face suggested now was not the time. “I hope you’ve got a plan…”

The oni coiled tightly around Arden’s heart began to stir, the smell of blood on the horizon and the rage of conflict rousing it’s raging hunger. Arden’s stratagem was a simple one, leant credence by the simple geography and the advantage that this was as much their home ground as the Brokenthorn or the meadowlands of the southern duchies.

“We do as we’ve always done.”

“…which is?”

Arden unsheathed his blade, a single edged curved sword tempered by magic older than the mottled, crumbling city walls rising skyward behind them. He pointed its tip along the dusty road and two mounted scouts darted out from the glistening ranks of swan patterned soldiers. They sped out at angles and disappeared into the trees to their south and the peaks and troughs of the heaths to the north. He dropped the blade to his side, the fingers of his right hand loosely holding its spider silk wrapped hilt and smiled softly.

“Fight other people’s wars.”