The Column of Ash [Epic Fantasy]

"Out," Laczlo muttered as Isak continued to argue his callous case.

"Voivode, there are politics bigger than us in the works here. Thousands of men's lives depend on our speed and—"

"I won't listen to this, Isak!" he shouted. "Get out!"

"Dammit, man. Do you hear yourself?"

"Please watch your tone, Druzhina," Kapitalena said from the side of the small, bare room."Now, let me speak to my husband alone."

"Yes, of course, Voivodess." The druzhina sighed and shook his head, then marched out, but not before saying over his shoulder, "We need to get moving. Every hour is one lost to the tsar."

Kapitalena waved him out, and Laczlo was too busy scowling out the shuttered wind holes in the rickety upstairs room to watch him go, yet his heavy footfalls signaled his departure anyway. They were in the room Vida used to live in, back when he first met her in Goroden, over a year ago now. He didn't know where else to go to pick up a trail, much less find her. The room had been vacant, seemingly left empty since he took her from Goroden all those months ago. And it looked untouched even now. Yet still he scoured it as if he could identify some clue as to why she'd suddenly disappeared.

One day with no notice was concerning. Two even more. But three? Something had gone wrong. Some of the men, like Krajik, had wondered if she ran off with someone. Laczlo had nearly struck the druzhina for uttering such a thing, yet he feared it himself. I've treated her terribly, ignoring her, pushing her away, while behaving like… like an utter prick. He shook the thoughts from his head. So many frustrations and concerns. After one night, he'd barely spoken to the tsaritsa, for instance. What was there to say? He was pleasant, of course, and tried to continue his teachings of the tsarevich, but things were still awkward. And now this to further complicate things!

"This has gone on too long," she said to him as he frowned out into the bleak cityscape, skies struck by murky promises of rain and ill-weather. "She is a competent woman. She will be fine."

"It smells like a trap. Like the Rodezians are getting back at her."

"I think it's nothing of the sort, Laczlo. Perhaps she is investigating something—"

"She would have said! Or notified me of her somehow. Or seen how we might linger for her!"

Kapitalena took in a deep breath as she did when her patience was thinning. "Or the more likely explanation—"

"Which is?" When she didn't answer, he scoffed. "Not you too?"

"Is it hard to believe? She may want to be free of this. She knows there is no future with you."

Laczlo winced. "Well, maybe, yes, but…"

"Maybe?"

"Well, she deserves better than a cold shoulder and to be pushed aside!"

"Pushed aside?" Kapitalena drew close, forcing him to look at her anger-wrought expression. That righteous indignation she carried like a hidden blade, ever-present, usually well-hidden, was bare for all to see. Deus above, it was just like the one he had himself. "Damn you, Laczlo. We're at war here. Where is your head at?"

"What? My head?" He felt no fear, as usual, nor guilt. Not even that unabated shame. "What about yours? I thought you two understood each other!"

"I understood her motives, yes, but that doesn't mean I approved of her actions or wished her to remain with us. She's not one to give up her quarry."

"Bah! Her quarry! So that's what you think of her?" He spun away and stomped about the small room, hands in fists, shaking at his sides. "I owe her more than disregard, and so do you! She saved me. She saved all of us!"

"She disappears, and everything is on hold for her. We should have left yesterday. It is as Isak said, for every minute we waste here, Varul wins more ground."

"So I should just abandon our ally because the alternative is inconvenient?" he asked.

"Don't be reductive. Think of your family, Laczlo."

"Stop it. Don't do that."

Kapitalena stepped forward, jabbing him in the chest with a finger. "You're endangering us!"

"I said stop it!"

"You're trading your children for her. Your own flesh and blood for her!"

He wanted to hit her. He wanted to strike her down. His knuckles ached from the pressure of his clenched muscles, yet he held himself still. Then the shame hit him, roiling like the angry tide, and he collapsed against the wall, sinking to his rear on the dusty boards. "She saved my life, Kapitalena. Multiple times. And all I do… All I do is let her down. Let you down." His head fell in his hands, tears hot upon the palms of his skin. "I just want to do the right thing. Why is that so hard?"

Her response was silence. He thought it a cold, judgmental one, and then he heard the footfalls. Expecting her to be walking away, the pain in his chest only grew, then he realized she had come close to him, and her hands were upon his face, angling it up toward her. He opened his eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said and kissed him on the forehead. Then the lips. "I was cruel. Needlessly so."

"No, you're right. I'm just…"

"Stop it." She sighed and sat before him, dirtying her beautiful dress on the floor. "Your obligations to her are just and honorable. She's a good friend to you, Laczlo, even if I am jealous of it and your… history with her. I should respect her dedication. And yours."

Her words struck him hard, and he felt his voice quiver as he said, "But that should never come before my family. Never."

Kapitalena looked at him for a long moment, then nodded. "The children need us. Nanko took leaving Nova better than I thought, but he's scared by the change and sensitive to the tension. And you know Bora."

"Dammit. Is she…"

"This is all an awful reminder, Laczlo."

His fists burrowed into the sides of his head. "Curse Varul for making me do this. Him and the tsar."

"And that's why we need to move. The army, yes. Voiakh's patience and trust, of course. Strategy and politics aside, however, it's the children who need it from us. They require it." She leaned in and put a hand on his. "I know it's cruel. I know you want to help her, but there's nothing to be done by waiting. And would she want that regardless?"

He sighed. She was right, of course. Vida would want him to continue on.

"Besides, this could be Varul's work. If he has her, then delaying here does her no good."

He'd feared the possibility, of course, but to hear her say it… If the druzhina had been a double-agent of sorts and captured her then he'd take her to Varul. She wouldn't fall for that, he thought. She's smarter than all of us on that. And the moment he lets down his guard, she would escape. She was sharp enough for it, no doubt. But still, Varul was cunning, and he'd likely planned this, if it was his doing, and there'd be no room for openings. But why would he go to such lengths? Just as leverage over him? It seemed excessive, but then, most knew about his affair by this point. To think that after everything, her being close to him was precisely the thing that endangered her and not protected her.

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"Are you alright?" Kapitalena asked.

"Yes," he replied after a moment. "Alright enough." Laczlo stood with a groan, popping his back, feeling his age. Older, even. "Go. Tell Isak to pass on the order to depart. I'll come soon."

"They would like to hear it from you."

"I know." He shrugged. "I want to stay a moment longer. Please."

She nodded, gave him one last long look, then left.

Alone in the room, finally, he let out a long-held sigh, shoulders dropping. There was no end to the drama, the turns, the difficulties. He stared at the bloodspot on the floor from a year ago when he'd found Vida there with his druzhina, the lone assassin dead. Afonas… Oiir… How you are missed. Both dead, fighting to protect him. How many more might die by his delay here? He was the Warrior Prince now, and he had to act like it.

Laczlo shook himself, rolled his shoulders back, and left.

…

The sky cleared later in the day, and soon he found himself riding in an open meadow with his son on the saddle before him and the sun warming his skin. All felt right and good. Nanko was giggling and cheering, unafraid of the fast gallop. Laczlo held on to him tight with one arm, other on the reins, a grin stretching his mouth wide.

After a little while, when he was starting to get tired, he reined back in to the column of his army. Men laughed and waved to his son, who waved back, excited to be seen by so many. It was good for the soldiers' spirits, Laczlo figured. After all, Nanko would be voivode someday.

He came back to his spot at the front with his wife and daughter, personal guard of druzhina, and the tsar's family. Bora eyed Nanko sullenly, even though he'd given her a ride just a little while ago. She was complaining when Kapitalena hushed her, promising something later on, and gave Laczlo a sweet smile that made his chest rise with pride. He deserved to feel that way. He'd even spoken to the tsaritsa earlier, apologizing for the delay in leaving Goroden, complimenting her on her pretty headscarf, making her smile shyly. Even with no clue of how to proceed with the situation, he could still try and be a gentleman. A friend.

He'd also saw to Amon, trying to keep up the rapport with the boy, teaching him things, hearing his thoughts on military matters. Thoughts of a child, naturally, but promising nonetheless. He was a quick study, the boy. It all only made Laczlo that much more certain of it all. Finally, he'd even had time to talk to Mikha, full advice Laczlo didn't need at the moment, but also some guesses as to Vida's disappearance.

"Say someone snuck in and tried to take her," Mikha had said, "well, what would she do? She's a risk-taker, of course, always looking for the most out of things. Maybe she would take advantage of the situation and let herself be captured to get close to Varul."

"Do you think she would try to…" He almost didn't want to say it, the insanity of the thought so great. "Try to kill him? Varul?"

"Well…"

"Ah." Laczlo thought about all the times she put herself in drastically dangerous situations, somehow coming out on top. "Right. She might just try."

"But only if the risk is a tolerable one. As much as we quarreled, she's not unreasonable or mad."

Laczlo grinned. "A little mad, risking her hide for me in Delues."

Mikha's stern expression wavered with a small smile. "Perhaps, Voivode. Perhaps."

They'd talked for some time. On Vida, the political quagmire he was in, and the brewing war. Mikha was a voice of reason in a time when Laczlo always felt quite off-kilter. It balanced him. Made him calm again. And it was partly due to that conversation that he didn't shout out in shock when reports came in from his forward scouts that the tsar's army had left Nova.

They weren't heading east. They had gone west. Toward him.

…

He stood with Voiakh, Isak, Kapitalena, and Alana on the side of the old road with arms crossed, pacing, chewing at his chapped lips. The others were talking it out as he listened, deliberating on a decision that felt far too big for him to make.

Voiakh was leading the conversation. "It's as I said in Goroden: he's going to have to come to us. The tsar can't let you and the tsarevich be in the hands of the enemy, Tsaritsa."

"I suppose," she replied uncertainly. "He never cared much for when we were there."

"I'm afraid it is about the politics of succession more than anything. Imperial politics is one messy affair, as I'm sure you are accustomed."

"Oh, certainly. But… would he attack you? Would he make battle?"

Voiakh stroked his chin and hummed. Isak, who'd apologized for his poor behavior the previous day, nodded and said, "He's got the numbers, by our scouts' reports. The Western Army, the tsar's druzhina, maybe even some Sorcerers."

"Sorcerers?" The tsaritsa paled.

"There are strict understandings in place dissuading the use of such tactics," Kapitalena said, frowning. "Particularly in an internal war."

Voiakh nodded in agreement, his typically jovialness subdued. "You're right, of course, Voivodess. It's an informal understanding. The kind made between reasonable men in unreasonable times, but I am afraid we are not working with reasonable counterparts anymore."

"My husband would never," Alana exclaimed, brow fraught. "Not against his own subjects."

"He empowers a man that might, I am afraid." Voiakh shrugged, then gave his practiced grin once again. "But that just means we'll have to be clever about it. A good general would use Sorcerers to target his priority opponents, whether by assassination or otherwise. So we'll need a knife in hand just in case. Still, it is an incredible escalation of violence."

"You two will have to stay back," Isak muttered, looking at Laczlo and Voiakh.

Sit back and watch my men die for me. Of course. He sighed and bowed his head, continuing to pace. "If only we can sit down with the tsar and talk this out…"

"They may move first to offer talks, my friend," Voiakh said.

"Really?"

"They have a slight number advantage, but not the loyalty or training. While we were dealing with rebels, the Eastern Army had been sitting on its hands in the mountains, likely held in reserve for this moment. Fresh, but untested. A battle would not necessarily be in their favor."

"And not with the whisperings of a campaign in the east," Kapitalena added.

"Exactly! Whatever Varul's plan, it isn't to diminish his troops in pitched battle beforehand. And he initiated this messy business to begin with, didn't he?"

His wife raised her chin, jaw set. "He most certainly did."

Laczlo stopped pacing. None of this made sense. Why would Varul force him to rebel without sufficient means to cajole or defeat him? The priest had executed cunning plans successfully up until now, so what was the explanation behind this sudden change? He locked eyes with his wife. Her mind was working on the problem, too, he could tell. Trying to find his angle. Varul was a man devoted to Vasia, controlling as he was, and seemed determined to revive the tsardom to its former glory with whatever means he could muster. So how did this accomplish that? He forced himself to look at it from the priest's perspective once more.

He didn't plan on Kapitalena convincing Alana to come with. If not for that, Voiakh might not have joined and might have taken me hostage. Could it have all hinged on that? A possible explanation, but then why give Kapitalena so much room to maneuver? Or the tsaritsa, for that matter? Maybe he was looking to make a power grab himself? Did he have the influence, the legitimacy for such a move? The former, perhaps, but certainly not the latter. If Voiakh was loyal to him, I'd know. And marching together as we are, it's not easy to have him betray us. Not with his men kept in the dark, bonding with mine as allies.

"He's hiding some trump card," Kapitalena said. "If we talk, he's going to pull it. Maybe he will kill Laczlo with Sorcery. Or all of us."

Isak glowered east. "If he even tries, we'll cut the bastard down."

"It won't be fast enough."

"No, Isak has a point," Voiakh mused. "We can have enough men around to dissuade such an ambush. They kill our leaders, we make battle with no quarter. Trust me when I say that underhanded moves like that often backfire. No one wants to make battle with an enraged, desperate foe."

Laczlo recalled the fight in Nova, with their backs against the wall against the Dead. Voiakh was right, but was it enough to guarantee their safety in any negotiations?

"What does our fearless voivode say on the matter?" Voiakh asked, giving a good-natured, encouraging smile.

Fearless, eh? "We don't have much of a choice, is what I say."

"I, unfortunately, must agree."

"In a pitched battle, well, do we win? Isak, I want your opinion too."

Voiakh gave a slight bow to the druzhina, who spoke first. "The scouts didn't get a good measure of them, but I'd say so. We've got over a thousand men here, not a single levy among them. Varul might raise peasants, but they'd break fast enough. I say we have a good chance, information being what it is."

Laczlo nodded, then gestured for Voiakh to speak.

"Well, things are never simple in war, Laczlo. Ah, I shouldn't lecture you with all the experience you've had over these last months. Isak here has a good handle on it. Met evenly on the field, the engagement looks promising. He will lack heavy cavalry, with the Eastern Army being mostly light infantry… That means he'll hold heavy reserves, negating the possibility of early encirclement, sacrificing initiative on the field to us." He grinned self-depreciatively. "Apologies, just thinking this out loud. Sanei, my eastern counterpart, is a fine strategist but a poor tactician. And his forces are unwieldy, meant for peacekeeping and holding scattered forts, if anything. We operate fast and strike hard, and they can be broken and overwhelmed."

Laczlo nodded, feeling relieved. He glanced to the women, who also seemed reassured. If only Kapitalena had as much experience in war as she did in politics, then I wouldn't have to make a decision at all. "Alright, Voiakh. If you concur with moving to meet them, then so do I."

"That I do."

"Alright." Laczlo put a hand on the pommel of his sword. "We continue east. In a few days' time, we'll meet them on the field. But I expect negotiations beforehand. If that comes to pass, we'll hear them out." He gripped the hilt reassuringly. "And keep a few knives at the ready."