The Secluded Queen, page 41
A few minutes later, the men returned, all of whom were wearing the magical armor. Veronica smiled when she saw that Erika was with them, though she looked like she had been on guard for ages. Her hair was stringy, oily, and tangled, her armor was mired, and her face was covered in dirt. “Long time no see, your Majesty.”
Veronica smiled and greeted her with a hug. “Erika, how are you?”
She sighed. “I’m okay, all things considered.”
“I’m so sorry about Thomas.”
She looked away and crossed her arms. “I don’t feel like this is the place to talk about it.”
The rest of the men were looking around awkwardly. Veronica’s temper flared at the cold dismissal when she had only been trying to be supportive. Fine, if you don’t want to talk to me, we won’t talk.
Veronica smacked her spear on the cobblestone ground to get the attention of her small party. “We are going down into the ruined dungeon to try and find a way out of the castle to flank our enemy and destroy their siege weapons. If we are successful, we will be much closer to ending this siege.”
The men agreed in the form of various grunts and “here here.”
In the distance, Veronica saw Sir Richard emerge from the keep, clean, beard trimmed, and his jade-colored Royal Guard armor polished to a brilliant shine. He bowed low to Veronica. Erika looked at him with loathing, and the rest of the men muttered to each other, shocked to see Sir Richard return to the fight. “My Queen, it is my deepest honor to serve you in this campaign.” She nodded to him gratefully. Sir Richard yanked his sword from the scabbard and held it high above his head, turning back to the small group of men, shouting, “To arms, my brothers! This godless sorcerer will rue the day that he invaded Anatolia! Let us deliver a blow that will bring him to his knees!” The men cheered, and Sir Richard paused until their cheers slowed. “Cut first and figure out who you felled later, my brave brothers. The enemy is many, and there is plenty for all!”
Morale soared. Sir Richard’s small speech had ignited a spark of hope in all of their hearts, including Veronica’s, only to be snuffed out by deep, bellowing blasts of sound, cutting through the air and shaking the land. Distant sounds of war drums shocked their senses and created vertigo in their souls, the terrifying war drums giving marching orders to a new, unknown army.
Veronica turned to Sir Richard, who looked as pale as she felt. “Who is that?”
Sir Richard swallowed. “It’s hard to say, my Queen.”
Her heart sank, and Richard noticed his Queen begin to collapse within herself, overwhelmed by the obstacles that opposed them, fearful of her people and the pain she surely would feel when she met her bitter end.
“That is, my Queen, it’s hard to say if they are a foe worthy of the Armored Queen and Sir Richard of Gordion.”
The humor was wasted upon her, but she appreciated his effort, so she gave him as pleasant a smile as she could muster. I have already lost so many countrymen and friends. What more does the mother want me to sacrifice?
The horns bellowed again, the war drums steadily growing louder. Veronica sprinted to the nearby guard tower, the tallest point in Castle Myra besides her solitary window in her bedchamber, hoping she could make out whose army was assuredly marching to end them all. Her legs roared with fire as she took the stairs two, three at a time, shoving a crossbowman out of the way as she screeched to a halt in front of the guard tower widow. What she saw made her weak in the knees, her stomach a tumult of nausea, and her eyes burn with tears.
From the North East, with glorious solid lines of men carrying black and gold rimmed shields, hundreds of cavalry, several bulking catapults haphazardly fixed with wheels, and triangle-shaped flags of black-rimmed with gold, bearing an insignia of a boar in the center, marched the unknown army.
Turhal. They heard the pleas of Castle Myra, and they had come, bringing the catapults from their planned fortification along with them. Veronica wept with happiness. She fell to her knees. “Thank you, Mother Goddess, thank you. Thank you.” She felt a man climbing the staircase and turned to find Sir Richard with a handkerchief extended to her, tears also glinting in his eyes.
“My Queen, I knew our countrymen would not have abandoned us in our time of need.” He cleared his throat, coughed, hammered his chest, and added, “I never doubted. Not from the beginning. If the word got out to our fine men of the Anatolian Guard, they would come. They would march to the ends of this glorious Earth to protect their castle, the very heart of their homeland.”
She patted his shoulder. “I know.”
“We need to communicate with the commander of the Turhal forces to establish a united front against the invaders at once.”
Veronica took one last look at the mighty army of her fellow countrymen and led the way back down the guard tower staircase. “The Chaktu—the Steel-Blade Tribe—have also set up camp outside of our walls.”
Richard scoffed, “It is no matter, my Queen. We will defeat them as well as the Sorcerer.”
“There will be no need for that. While you were possessed by Sargon, I used a rope on the back side of the castle to scale the walls to travel for Patara, to rescue the man known as Urartum from execution. I was successful, and because of my efforts to rescue one of their finest warriors from a wrongful execution, they have agreed to help us in our fight against Sargon.”
Sir Richard threw his head back and laughed, shaking a fist in the air. “The nomad warriors fight with us? Bards will sing of the majesty of this battle, and of our Armored Queen!”
“Yes, I’m sure they will, my friend. Now, the rope should still be there. Our messengers, if careful, can use this to get directions to both Turhal and the Chaktu successfully.”
“Excellent. What is your command? I will issue messengers at once.”
She stepped out of the guard tower, the clash of battle filled the air, and her small group of men saluted her as she approached them. “My command is to have Turhal shield our catapults from enemy advance and to keep them out of range of Sargon’s catapults until we have disabled them. We can’t risk that potential advantage. Once they see the flag of the Castle Myra fly above their splintered remains, Turhal must move our catapults into position and begin firing on the enemy’s flank. Once their rear is sufficiently weakened, both Turhal and the Chaktu will advance and hit their rear formation with everything they’ve got. We need to pin the monsters against our stone walls and then open the gates to finish them off with what of the Castle Guard we can muster.”
“Open the gates, my Queen? Even with our tactical advantage, their forces will still outnumber ours four to one.”
“Yes, we must throw our full strength against these invaders. The crossbowmen will remain within the castle and will fire directly on their clustered forces. We also need to take rose hips to Turhal. If they lose their forces to possession, the Chaktu are done for.”
He bowed low. “The order will be given.”
Veronica walked among her men, looking each of them in the eye and placing both hands on their shoulders in a deep showing of respect. As she stared into the eyes of those who were willing to follow her to their deaths, she addressed them with authority and strength. “We are soldiers and leaders of our people. Our country has been attacked without provocation by a madman who will stop at nothing to raze Castle Myra to the ground. He desires to butcher, destroy, or enslave everyone and all that which we hold dear. We have an opportunity, a chance, to bring this vast army to its knees, to break this siege and end this war.” She finished her signs of respect, then walked to the front of them, eyes blazing. “Turhal has come to our aid.” The men looked at each other, bewildered, with hope filling their hearts and determination filling their eyes.
Veronica continued, “This isn’t just a chance to eliminate the enemy’s weapons of war. This is an opportunity to end this war once and for all.” She pointed towards the Forever Green Forest. “As soon as we destroy those catapults and raise our flag over their shattered remains, both Turhal and the Steel-Blade tribe will unleash an all-out assault on Sargon’s forces, pinning them against our dear Castle Myra, preventing their escape, while the Castle Guard charge from within. Their archers will be cut down, we will be able to divide their forces, and we will secure our victory and our revenge. A revenge we all deeply crave.”
They cheered, and Veronica did not feel foolish or bashful for speaking so forcefully to these seasoned men, while she herself had only seen a handful of skirmishes. She finally felt like the Queen she was. She finally felt like a leader.
“My Queen, shall we use this rope you left behind to get out of the Castle?”
Veronica shook her head no and explained her plan to try and find a way outside the castle through the newly exposed ruins. Sir Richard simply nodded in agreement, though the chances of them finding a way out of the castle walls were slim at best. Even after the emotional torture that he endured after my failed ambush, Sir Richard would still follow my lead without question. He is the finest knight that I know. The Queen and her loyal adviser led the small group of men down into the chasm, with Erika bringing up the rear. They climbed over the rubble that used to be the dungeons and up into the passageway that faced the direction of the front gate. Armed with their hand weapons and lit by torch, they ventured into the passageway, a passageway to a ruin that had not seen the light of day for centuries.
The passageway was long, narrow, and the air smelled of wet dirt and left a taste of chalk in Veronica’s mouth. The floor and walls were composed of stone of varying shades of red and brown, and all were joined together by ancient and decaying mortar. As they walked, they passed many tile mosaics depicting the same woman, sometimes with children, but the woman was always depicted with green emeralds for eyes. It made Veronica feel uneasy, like she was witnessing something that she didn’t understand. Many dark hallways were heading in different directions, each with its own dark and deserted passage. The group continued on, heading deeper into the ancient structure, trying to memorize their way so that they didn’t get turned around in the dark.
As they walked, Veronica took the opportunity to find out why Richard followed her without hesitation. “Sir Richard, may I ask you a question?”
“Anything, Your Majesty.”
“Why are you so trusting of me?”
Sir Richard paused, then asked, “Trusting?”
“Yes. I’m no grand military strategist or even a seasoned ruler. Why do you still trust me, even after my last plan landed you in the dungeons?”
He belly laughed, and his contagious cheerfulness echoed and filled the emptiness around them. “My Queen, that is an easy question to answer, but a long story to explain. I trust you because I know your heart lies with Anatolia, and no matter what the cost, I should support you in your declarations and decisions.”
“I’m not going to lie, Richard, that sounded rehearsed.”
He chuckled. “It better be. I say it to myself in front of a mirror every day before I begin fulfilling my responsibilities. Well, every day that I am in control of my body and being, that is.”
Veronica cringed as she remembered what the possession had turned Richard into. I hope we have enough rose elixir to prevent anyone from falling victim to Sargon’s spells again. “Why, though? Why do you tell yourself that in the mirror every day?”
He sighed. “I suppose there’s not much more to do but bore you with my terrible storytelling.”
“I’m listening.”
He chuckled. “Don’t tell me that I didn’t warn you, my Queen.” He took a deep breath, then began his tale: “When I was a young conscript in the Anatolian Guard, I was... unruly, to put it mildly.”
“I’m shocked, Richard. I didn’t think it was possible for you to be even more boisterous and have an even bigger ego.”
“Ha, well, believe it or no, I was a handful. I thought I had it all figured out.” He held his torch up to an ancient painting, slashed through the middle, of a woman with green emerald eyes, a red glowing leopard, a purple woman hovering in midair, a minotaur with lighting for eyes, and a pale but incredibly gorgeous woman holding a hammer and a nail.
The Mother Goddess Cybele, Urartu god of War, Rhea goddess of Fortune and of the Harvest, Tarhunna god of Weather, and Nurtia, goddess of Fate and Death.
Richard continued his story, and her attention returned to him. “I thought I was the smartest man in the room, and if anyone gave an order I didn’t agree with, I would do all I could to defy that order. It was becoming a real problem for my superiors. I jeopardized operations and put my fellow soldiers at risk regularly.”
“How did you put your fellow soldiers at risk?”
“Whenever a unit of men has a rogue soldier, it throws all off balance. The members of the unit cannot focus fully on the task at hand because they are always dividing their attention between the operation and the rogue. They can’t be sure what the man would do at any time, and they need to be ready to adapt when the rogue, well, goes rogue.”
“I take it you were the rogue? Why didn’t they discharge you?”
“Ah, yes, one of the worst of them, in fact, but they didn’t discharge me because I was competent. They could send me into the worst situations, and I would fight my way to victory with my sheer might and unbreakable will.”
Veronica laughed. “Your superiors told you this after you didn’t follow their direct orders?”
“Not exactly, but I could read between the lines.”
“Another thing that you are talented at, finding compliments between reprimands.”
“One must be resilient, my Queen. Grumpy superiors are never a reason to feel less than you know yourself to be. Anyways, when I would get an order to go stealth, I would disobey and charge the enemy, sword raised, screaming profanity better than any sailor could. When they wanted a frontal assault, I would ghost my unit and go stealthily. For me, changing the plan wasn’t an issue; I thought myself to be invincible. I was the best swordsman of the whole lot of them. But for some of my unit, who were not quite as skilled a swordsman as I, they were forced into dangerous situations that they could not possibly adapt to.”
“Were you the cause of a fellow soldier dying?”
Sir Richard’s voice went low and was filled with emotion. “Not just one fellow soldier, several. My rashness almost cost the lives of my entire unit.”
“I’m sorry, Richard. What happened?”
“We had been dispatched to Gordion, my home city, to deal with a rebel uprising due to a tax increase, on what I cannot recall. The rebels were dug in across a bridge, one that I had spent many days on as a lad. My commander ordered us to cross the bridge in pairs to maintain the element of surprise and to mitigate the risks of exposing the entire unit to enemy archers all at once. Well, I convinced my unit that I knew the area and that we should all charge across the bridge all at once, against orders. I insisted that there was an area on the other side of the bridge that was out of sight, but once we reached that point, we would be at a strategic advantage and would be shielded against archer fire.”
“Were the rebels prepared for the charge?”
Sir Richard cleared his throat and coughed. “Actually, no. It turned out that the rebels had all given up and had gone home to their families as soon as they heard that the Anatolian Guard was being dispatched. Well, all except for a single man, and he had already drunk himself into a stupor by the time we showed up.”
“I’m confused. If there were no rebels, how did you risk your unit?”
“That area of Gordion had always been poor, but since I had left to join the Guard, it had fallen on even harder times. The city didn’t have enough funds to keep the bridge in good repair. As a result, thirty armed soldiers in full plate armor, all crossing the decrepit bridge at once, caused a collapse. The four men directly behind me fell through. I still remember the looks on their faces as the bridge fell out from underneath them—confusion, horror, and fear. I was able to get the rest of the men to the other side before the bridge came down on top of the four injured men below. Needless to say, I was formally reprimanded.”
“And yet here you are, adviser to the Queen.”
“I should have been put in prison. But Rhea granted me fortune. My commanding officer took pity on me. He knew I was young and naive. But, I also learned something about superiors from him—that sometimes they don’t have all the details, or the perfect answers, or even an inkling of what to do when things go bad. But I learned that day that if their heart is in the right place and they are putting their might into making an informed decision, then it is best to obey orders. I learned to trust that they are privy to more information than I, and not to trust my ego more than my countrymen. As I see it, if I am wrong to put my trust in them, I will die honorably, at no fault of my own. If I am right to put my trust in them, I will keep Anatolia safe and return with honor.”
“And that is why you put your trust in me, an unseasoned and untrained Queen? I can understand a commanding officer or general. Chances are that they earned their place. But I can’t understand why you still trust in me, even when my decisions in the past have caused you so much pain.”
Sir Richard laughed. “War requires strategy, yes. But which of our strategies works best against a sorcerer? None. You are here as Queen for a reason, and I trust that the Mother Goddess chose well.”
Veronica scoffed. “You truly believe that the Mother Goddess herself had something to do with me being Queen?”
“Yes I do.”
Veronica still didn’t fully believe the man, as she herself would not have trusted an unseasoned ruler to make the correct decision. She hadn’t trusted the High Council to find her a good husband, and she hadn’t trusted Amaryllis’ council to avoid the wagons on her trip back to the Castle Myra. She still didn’t have the ability to fully trust another person, which is probably why she had just asked Sir Richard about his motivations. She didn’t trust that he was making the correct decision in following her. I have some serious trust issues that I need to work through. I need to trust in myself and that my men are following me for a good reason. Perhaps I am privy to more information than anyone else.
Veronica smiled and greeted her with a hug. “Erika, how are you?”
She sighed. “I’m okay, all things considered.”
“I’m so sorry about Thomas.”
She looked away and crossed her arms. “I don’t feel like this is the place to talk about it.”
The rest of the men were looking around awkwardly. Veronica’s temper flared at the cold dismissal when she had only been trying to be supportive. Fine, if you don’t want to talk to me, we won’t talk.
Veronica smacked her spear on the cobblestone ground to get the attention of her small party. “We are going down into the ruined dungeon to try and find a way out of the castle to flank our enemy and destroy their siege weapons. If we are successful, we will be much closer to ending this siege.”
The men agreed in the form of various grunts and “here here.”
In the distance, Veronica saw Sir Richard emerge from the keep, clean, beard trimmed, and his jade-colored Royal Guard armor polished to a brilliant shine. He bowed low to Veronica. Erika looked at him with loathing, and the rest of the men muttered to each other, shocked to see Sir Richard return to the fight. “My Queen, it is my deepest honor to serve you in this campaign.” She nodded to him gratefully. Sir Richard yanked his sword from the scabbard and held it high above his head, turning back to the small group of men, shouting, “To arms, my brothers! This godless sorcerer will rue the day that he invaded Anatolia! Let us deliver a blow that will bring him to his knees!” The men cheered, and Sir Richard paused until their cheers slowed. “Cut first and figure out who you felled later, my brave brothers. The enemy is many, and there is plenty for all!”
Morale soared. Sir Richard’s small speech had ignited a spark of hope in all of their hearts, including Veronica’s, only to be snuffed out by deep, bellowing blasts of sound, cutting through the air and shaking the land. Distant sounds of war drums shocked their senses and created vertigo in their souls, the terrifying war drums giving marching orders to a new, unknown army.
Veronica turned to Sir Richard, who looked as pale as she felt. “Who is that?”
Sir Richard swallowed. “It’s hard to say, my Queen.”
Her heart sank, and Richard noticed his Queen begin to collapse within herself, overwhelmed by the obstacles that opposed them, fearful of her people and the pain she surely would feel when she met her bitter end.
“That is, my Queen, it’s hard to say if they are a foe worthy of the Armored Queen and Sir Richard of Gordion.”
The humor was wasted upon her, but she appreciated his effort, so she gave him as pleasant a smile as she could muster. I have already lost so many countrymen and friends. What more does the mother want me to sacrifice?
The horns bellowed again, the war drums steadily growing louder. Veronica sprinted to the nearby guard tower, the tallest point in Castle Myra besides her solitary window in her bedchamber, hoping she could make out whose army was assuredly marching to end them all. Her legs roared with fire as she took the stairs two, three at a time, shoving a crossbowman out of the way as she screeched to a halt in front of the guard tower widow. What she saw made her weak in the knees, her stomach a tumult of nausea, and her eyes burn with tears.
From the North East, with glorious solid lines of men carrying black and gold rimmed shields, hundreds of cavalry, several bulking catapults haphazardly fixed with wheels, and triangle-shaped flags of black-rimmed with gold, bearing an insignia of a boar in the center, marched the unknown army.
Turhal. They heard the pleas of Castle Myra, and they had come, bringing the catapults from their planned fortification along with them. Veronica wept with happiness. She fell to her knees. “Thank you, Mother Goddess, thank you. Thank you.” She felt a man climbing the staircase and turned to find Sir Richard with a handkerchief extended to her, tears also glinting in his eyes.
“My Queen, I knew our countrymen would not have abandoned us in our time of need.” He cleared his throat, coughed, hammered his chest, and added, “I never doubted. Not from the beginning. If the word got out to our fine men of the Anatolian Guard, they would come. They would march to the ends of this glorious Earth to protect their castle, the very heart of their homeland.”
She patted his shoulder. “I know.”
“We need to communicate with the commander of the Turhal forces to establish a united front against the invaders at once.”
Veronica took one last look at the mighty army of her fellow countrymen and led the way back down the guard tower staircase. “The Chaktu—the Steel-Blade Tribe—have also set up camp outside of our walls.”
Richard scoffed, “It is no matter, my Queen. We will defeat them as well as the Sorcerer.”
“There will be no need for that. While you were possessed by Sargon, I used a rope on the back side of the castle to scale the walls to travel for Patara, to rescue the man known as Urartum from execution. I was successful, and because of my efforts to rescue one of their finest warriors from a wrongful execution, they have agreed to help us in our fight against Sargon.”
Sir Richard threw his head back and laughed, shaking a fist in the air. “The nomad warriors fight with us? Bards will sing of the majesty of this battle, and of our Armored Queen!”
“Yes, I’m sure they will, my friend. Now, the rope should still be there. Our messengers, if careful, can use this to get directions to both Turhal and the Chaktu successfully.”
“Excellent. What is your command? I will issue messengers at once.”
She stepped out of the guard tower, the clash of battle filled the air, and her small group of men saluted her as she approached them. “My command is to have Turhal shield our catapults from enemy advance and to keep them out of range of Sargon’s catapults until we have disabled them. We can’t risk that potential advantage. Once they see the flag of the Castle Myra fly above their splintered remains, Turhal must move our catapults into position and begin firing on the enemy’s flank. Once their rear is sufficiently weakened, both Turhal and the Chaktu will advance and hit their rear formation with everything they’ve got. We need to pin the monsters against our stone walls and then open the gates to finish them off with what of the Castle Guard we can muster.”
“Open the gates, my Queen? Even with our tactical advantage, their forces will still outnumber ours four to one.”
“Yes, we must throw our full strength against these invaders. The crossbowmen will remain within the castle and will fire directly on their clustered forces. We also need to take rose hips to Turhal. If they lose their forces to possession, the Chaktu are done for.”
He bowed low. “The order will be given.”
Veronica walked among her men, looking each of them in the eye and placing both hands on their shoulders in a deep showing of respect. As she stared into the eyes of those who were willing to follow her to their deaths, she addressed them with authority and strength. “We are soldiers and leaders of our people. Our country has been attacked without provocation by a madman who will stop at nothing to raze Castle Myra to the ground. He desires to butcher, destroy, or enslave everyone and all that which we hold dear. We have an opportunity, a chance, to bring this vast army to its knees, to break this siege and end this war.” She finished her signs of respect, then walked to the front of them, eyes blazing. “Turhal has come to our aid.” The men looked at each other, bewildered, with hope filling their hearts and determination filling their eyes.
Veronica continued, “This isn’t just a chance to eliminate the enemy’s weapons of war. This is an opportunity to end this war once and for all.” She pointed towards the Forever Green Forest. “As soon as we destroy those catapults and raise our flag over their shattered remains, both Turhal and the Steel-Blade tribe will unleash an all-out assault on Sargon’s forces, pinning them against our dear Castle Myra, preventing their escape, while the Castle Guard charge from within. Their archers will be cut down, we will be able to divide their forces, and we will secure our victory and our revenge. A revenge we all deeply crave.”
They cheered, and Veronica did not feel foolish or bashful for speaking so forcefully to these seasoned men, while she herself had only seen a handful of skirmishes. She finally felt like the Queen she was. She finally felt like a leader.
“My Queen, shall we use this rope you left behind to get out of the Castle?”
Veronica shook her head no and explained her plan to try and find a way outside the castle through the newly exposed ruins. Sir Richard simply nodded in agreement, though the chances of them finding a way out of the castle walls were slim at best. Even after the emotional torture that he endured after my failed ambush, Sir Richard would still follow my lead without question. He is the finest knight that I know. The Queen and her loyal adviser led the small group of men down into the chasm, with Erika bringing up the rear. They climbed over the rubble that used to be the dungeons and up into the passageway that faced the direction of the front gate. Armed with their hand weapons and lit by torch, they ventured into the passageway, a passageway to a ruin that had not seen the light of day for centuries.
The passageway was long, narrow, and the air smelled of wet dirt and left a taste of chalk in Veronica’s mouth. The floor and walls were composed of stone of varying shades of red and brown, and all were joined together by ancient and decaying mortar. As they walked, they passed many tile mosaics depicting the same woman, sometimes with children, but the woman was always depicted with green emeralds for eyes. It made Veronica feel uneasy, like she was witnessing something that she didn’t understand. Many dark hallways were heading in different directions, each with its own dark and deserted passage. The group continued on, heading deeper into the ancient structure, trying to memorize their way so that they didn’t get turned around in the dark.
As they walked, Veronica took the opportunity to find out why Richard followed her without hesitation. “Sir Richard, may I ask you a question?”
“Anything, Your Majesty.”
“Why are you so trusting of me?”
Sir Richard paused, then asked, “Trusting?”
“Yes. I’m no grand military strategist or even a seasoned ruler. Why do you still trust me, even after my last plan landed you in the dungeons?”
He belly laughed, and his contagious cheerfulness echoed and filled the emptiness around them. “My Queen, that is an easy question to answer, but a long story to explain. I trust you because I know your heart lies with Anatolia, and no matter what the cost, I should support you in your declarations and decisions.”
“I’m not going to lie, Richard, that sounded rehearsed.”
He chuckled. “It better be. I say it to myself in front of a mirror every day before I begin fulfilling my responsibilities. Well, every day that I am in control of my body and being, that is.”
Veronica cringed as she remembered what the possession had turned Richard into. I hope we have enough rose elixir to prevent anyone from falling victim to Sargon’s spells again. “Why, though? Why do you tell yourself that in the mirror every day?”
He sighed. “I suppose there’s not much more to do but bore you with my terrible storytelling.”
“I’m listening.”
He chuckled. “Don’t tell me that I didn’t warn you, my Queen.” He took a deep breath, then began his tale: “When I was a young conscript in the Anatolian Guard, I was... unruly, to put it mildly.”
“I’m shocked, Richard. I didn’t think it was possible for you to be even more boisterous and have an even bigger ego.”
“Ha, well, believe it or no, I was a handful. I thought I had it all figured out.” He held his torch up to an ancient painting, slashed through the middle, of a woman with green emerald eyes, a red glowing leopard, a purple woman hovering in midair, a minotaur with lighting for eyes, and a pale but incredibly gorgeous woman holding a hammer and a nail.
The Mother Goddess Cybele, Urartu god of War, Rhea goddess of Fortune and of the Harvest, Tarhunna god of Weather, and Nurtia, goddess of Fate and Death.
Richard continued his story, and her attention returned to him. “I thought I was the smartest man in the room, and if anyone gave an order I didn’t agree with, I would do all I could to defy that order. It was becoming a real problem for my superiors. I jeopardized operations and put my fellow soldiers at risk regularly.”
“How did you put your fellow soldiers at risk?”
“Whenever a unit of men has a rogue soldier, it throws all off balance. The members of the unit cannot focus fully on the task at hand because they are always dividing their attention between the operation and the rogue. They can’t be sure what the man would do at any time, and they need to be ready to adapt when the rogue, well, goes rogue.”
“I take it you were the rogue? Why didn’t they discharge you?”
“Ah, yes, one of the worst of them, in fact, but they didn’t discharge me because I was competent. They could send me into the worst situations, and I would fight my way to victory with my sheer might and unbreakable will.”
Veronica laughed. “Your superiors told you this after you didn’t follow their direct orders?”
“Not exactly, but I could read between the lines.”
“Another thing that you are talented at, finding compliments between reprimands.”
“One must be resilient, my Queen. Grumpy superiors are never a reason to feel less than you know yourself to be. Anyways, when I would get an order to go stealth, I would disobey and charge the enemy, sword raised, screaming profanity better than any sailor could. When they wanted a frontal assault, I would ghost my unit and go stealthily. For me, changing the plan wasn’t an issue; I thought myself to be invincible. I was the best swordsman of the whole lot of them. But for some of my unit, who were not quite as skilled a swordsman as I, they were forced into dangerous situations that they could not possibly adapt to.”
“Were you the cause of a fellow soldier dying?”
Sir Richard’s voice went low and was filled with emotion. “Not just one fellow soldier, several. My rashness almost cost the lives of my entire unit.”
“I’m sorry, Richard. What happened?”
“We had been dispatched to Gordion, my home city, to deal with a rebel uprising due to a tax increase, on what I cannot recall. The rebels were dug in across a bridge, one that I had spent many days on as a lad. My commander ordered us to cross the bridge in pairs to maintain the element of surprise and to mitigate the risks of exposing the entire unit to enemy archers all at once. Well, I convinced my unit that I knew the area and that we should all charge across the bridge all at once, against orders. I insisted that there was an area on the other side of the bridge that was out of sight, but once we reached that point, we would be at a strategic advantage and would be shielded against archer fire.”
“Were the rebels prepared for the charge?”
Sir Richard cleared his throat and coughed. “Actually, no. It turned out that the rebels had all given up and had gone home to their families as soon as they heard that the Anatolian Guard was being dispatched. Well, all except for a single man, and he had already drunk himself into a stupor by the time we showed up.”
“I’m confused. If there were no rebels, how did you risk your unit?”
“That area of Gordion had always been poor, but since I had left to join the Guard, it had fallen on even harder times. The city didn’t have enough funds to keep the bridge in good repair. As a result, thirty armed soldiers in full plate armor, all crossing the decrepit bridge at once, caused a collapse. The four men directly behind me fell through. I still remember the looks on their faces as the bridge fell out from underneath them—confusion, horror, and fear. I was able to get the rest of the men to the other side before the bridge came down on top of the four injured men below. Needless to say, I was formally reprimanded.”
“And yet here you are, adviser to the Queen.”
“I should have been put in prison. But Rhea granted me fortune. My commanding officer took pity on me. He knew I was young and naive. But, I also learned something about superiors from him—that sometimes they don’t have all the details, or the perfect answers, or even an inkling of what to do when things go bad. But I learned that day that if their heart is in the right place and they are putting their might into making an informed decision, then it is best to obey orders. I learned to trust that they are privy to more information than I, and not to trust my ego more than my countrymen. As I see it, if I am wrong to put my trust in them, I will die honorably, at no fault of my own. If I am right to put my trust in them, I will keep Anatolia safe and return with honor.”
“And that is why you put your trust in me, an unseasoned and untrained Queen? I can understand a commanding officer or general. Chances are that they earned their place. But I can’t understand why you still trust in me, even when my decisions in the past have caused you so much pain.”
Sir Richard laughed. “War requires strategy, yes. But which of our strategies works best against a sorcerer? None. You are here as Queen for a reason, and I trust that the Mother Goddess chose well.”
Veronica scoffed. “You truly believe that the Mother Goddess herself had something to do with me being Queen?”
“Yes I do.”
Veronica still didn’t fully believe the man, as she herself would not have trusted an unseasoned ruler to make the correct decision. She hadn’t trusted the High Council to find her a good husband, and she hadn’t trusted Amaryllis’ council to avoid the wagons on her trip back to the Castle Myra. She still didn’t have the ability to fully trust another person, which is probably why she had just asked Sir Richard about his motivations. She didn’t trust that he was making the correct decision in following her. I have some serious trust issues that I need to work through. I need to trust in myself and that my men are following me for a good reason. Perhaps I am privy to more information than anyone else.
