Chapter 3.2

Bethan's touch lingered even after she had healed Eirwen's face, not wanting to let go yet. The kindness was welcome, Eirwen holding her hand to Bethan's while she was thinking. Bethan used the time to heal more of her, energising her muscles which had exhausted themselves in tension.

After a while, Eirwen came to a conclusion. She pulled her head back and looked the healer in the eyes. "Bethan. Will you ride with me to Leathad Den Ghrian?" She chuckled at the instantly raised eyebrow. "I know. But if I'm going to coop up in a darkened office, I might as well do it in a useful place."

She rose to her feet and put a hand on her sword. A deep breath and she spoke, not masked but with resolve. "I need to establish my rule. Take control, so that I know for sure the war is over. Act, rather than wait. I know it will be hard. That is why I need you by my side. Will you?"

She saw the thinking on Bethan's face. The woman was sizing her up. Slowly, a proud grin grew on her face. "I will." Her face turned serious. "On one condition, though. Let me at least somewhat heal the knife pullers. They already have to live with the disgrace of what they did, I would like to make sure they're not crippled too."

Eirwen's eyes flashed with something dark. Quite frankly, she wanted to decline. But she understood what this meant to the healer, and that she herself wasn't in the best state for a permanent decision. "Alright. Go tell your apprentice to pack before you treat them. We ride at dawn. And tell the majordoma to select ten people to support me, and ten more for the troops."

Bethan nodded and rose. "As you command, your Grace." She moved to the door and opened it. "All done, back inside you two." She looked back at Eirwen, a face full of emotions. Pride, concern, personal resolve. With a nod she left.

Eirwen looked at the two doorguards as they closed the door and took position. "I have a question for the two of you. Are you alright with coming to Leathad Den Ghrian with me tomorrow? Before you answer, this is neither a command nor a request. It is a question. I wish to bring only two of you and I expect it will be a while, a long while. I would like it to be the both of you, but only if you're okay with it."

They had the decency to pretend to think it over for a few counts, even if their answer had already been clear on their faces the very moment she asked them. ""Yes, your Grace!""

"Good. I sincerely thank you. Send for a couple of messengers. I need all advisors to the war room at the next bell. And before then, I need to visit the smiths." They nodded and sprung to action, while she gathered her belongings. The last thing she looked at, was his sword. A personal sword, one that she had never seen before, not until yesterday. She hesitated, then took it with her as she left the room, doorguards falling to her side along with four other soldiers.

Normally, when she walked like this, she could see people bow politely as they waited for her to pass. Today, they knelt as they hailed her. Her extended senses could feel the relief everyone felt with the war finally over. She wished she could join them, but she still had many a battle ahead, even if they were to be fought without a sword.

A short walk later, she arrived at the forge. The master blacksmith ran up at once. "Greetings, your Grace! I hear the war is over, yet you're still visiting. What is it I can do for you? Do you need a ceremonial blade to celebrate your victory? Or did you outgrow her again?" He grinned as he gestured at the sword on her side.

Eirwen shook her head with a smile. "I stopped growing years ago, honourable Taran. She still serves me well. No, today I need two things from you personally. First, a simple sword, capable of holding an edge, contained in a simple scabbard. Do you have anything suitable?"

Taran frowned at her words. "I am going to need more details than that, your Grace. Who or what is the sword for, exactly? That determines both the best size and the best nature."

She sighed. He was right, of course. "You may have heard that the Marquis visited last night. Technically, that is not true. The seventh Duke of Flameheart visited. He surrendered, forfeited his name, and pledged his sword and life to me. The sword is for him. I don't want him to use it, but just in case, he needs a weapon to defend me with."

She handed him the sheath she had been holding. "And this is his personal blade, which I will keep for now. I never saw him wield her, so I was hoping you could study her and tell me more about her." She stepped back as the man drew the sword, neither of them caring for how her guards felt at the presence of a weapon so close to her.

Taran looked it over, silently mouthing things as his fingertips traced over the engravings. He stepped back and swung it at a straw man, cutting through it with ease, then observed the edge in detail. Satisfied with his results, he put the sword down again.

"Says her name is Crimson, your Grace. She is more blunt than she oughta be, yet she cuts just fine. She definitely is enchanted, plus I feel like she is hiding a secret. I suspect, with the right mana and manipulation, there's things hidden in her. I would like to tell you more, but that would cost a lot of time, days, weeks."

"No." She shook her head. "We ride at dawn." The man cursed as he realised what that meant. "But thank you for your analysis so far. Please arrange the sword I asked for, and provide similar scabbards for both. I will also need the smiths to check on the gear for the troops. Oh, one last thing. Can you arrange a whitesmith for me? The best you can get, but I need the result by morn."

He saluted. "Of course, your Grace! I know just the smith for that. What is it you need made?" His eyes sparkled from curiosity.

"A pendant on a chain. A silver heart, as white as can be. It must be easy to wear under my clothing." Taran's eyes opened wide as he realised what she would need that for. He seemed conflicted, then silently bowed in acceptance. "Thank you. I apologise for the short notice. All smiths will be allowed to rest for three days after this."

As she turned away, Taran began shouting out orders, all smiths and apprentices jumping to action. They would be very busy today and tonight.

On her way to the war room, Eirwen could already see the staff flit about. It seemed the majordoma moved fast. At the war room, she let the soldiers behind, but took her doorguards in with her. Even though it was still a few moments before the next bell, Vicomtesse Pertrellan and the other three advisors were already waiting.

She merely nodded in response to their greetings, before addressing them, her voice demanding full attention and not allowing any discontent. "Tomorrow, I ride for Leathad Den Ghrian. I am taking two dozen knights, two dozen soldiers, two dozen staff. Vicomtesse Pertrellan, I have a list of four knights. You choose the other twenty. Make sure to properly include people from last night, both those who fought today and those who knew better. I'll leave the soldiers to you as well."

She looked at the other three. "I am taking Bethan and her apprentice, so you will be without healer until you manage to call one back from the front. Distribute our forces well, just in case, but get ready for peace. I will be in Flameheart territory for a while, so I expect you to do your duties well. You will also need to arrange for reinforcements, because I expect that within ten days, vultures will appear."

Eirwen turned her attention back to Pertrellan. "One last thing, Vicomtesse. I do not trust the food there, not yet. Make sure the majordoma arranges three days of food and water for seventy-five people."

"Yes, your Grace!" The confirmation first, then the hesitation. "Wait. Five?" Behind Eirwen, she could feel her doorguards keep in their wry grins.

"Yes. The delegation, you, me, and the nameless." All advisors made shocked gasps. "You heard me. I'm not leaving him out of my sight at this point. Dismissed." They wanted to protest, but knew better. Each quickly left to make their arrangements. Once they were gone, Eirwen sighed a breath of relief. She then walked over to the large table, a relief of both Verglas and Flameheart territories visible.

She looked over the map, which had dominated her life for years. Not just hers. Looking at the Flameheart capital, she saw the two figures representing father and son. She wanted to torch them. Instead, she carefully reached over and flicked them over. As the two rolled down the hill, she turned back to her doorguards. "You also need to rest well, so let's go pick up the next shift, and I will see you again tomorrow."

With a silent nod, the two confirmed her orders and escorted her out. The preparations were done. Tomorrow, she would face the shadow cast over her. For now, she too needed rest.