A Time of Tigers - From Peasant to Emperor
Chapter 1816 - 1816: The Stirring of Great Winds - Part 1

"I say that… this likely is not good for my heart," Lord Idris said. "I do not know how my son abides serving a creature so reckless."

"Nor is it good for mine," Lord Blackwell said.

"Then you both shall have to learn to deal with me," Queen Asabel said. "For this is who I am. I am not one to sit pretty, whilst you busy yourself in my absence. I have grown tired of it. When I speak to the townspeople, I am sure of where it is that I need to be. I have a belief, no, a certainty, that this is not a war that can be won from the shadows. And how could it, my Lords? How could we fight this war from the shadows, when we fight in the name of our justice?"

Lord Blackwell hated the fact that he was growing convinced, and he hated even more the fact that his blood was beginning to stir with a violent passion.

"At the very least," Lord Idris conceded, "I do believe our men shall fight well, seeing that their Queen is with them, to inspire them and give them confidence."

"They will fight well, or I'll kill them myself," Blackwell swore. "If you are insistent that you come, Your Majesty, then I will take whatever measures I can to ensure that not a single sword nor arrowhead ever comes close to you."

"That's the spirit, General," Queen Asabel said. "And you need not worry so intensely. I will have Lancelot and my other knights with me to protect me."

"...I do not know how strongly we will be able to resist against the likes of this foe, Queen Asabel, but we shall give our lives in defense of you regardless," Lancelot swore, kneeling down before her.

"You are so very dramatic. Can we all not hope instead for that fine victory? Do we all need to be so serious?" Queen Asabel said.

"We shall be serious on your behalf, my Queen," Lancelot said. "So that you can once more smile as freely as you are now."

"That wasn't the compromise that I was looking for…" Queen Asabel said. "But you insist that are you are setting out tonight, Lord Blackwell? I shall not delay your plans then. I shall see myself ready. Lancelot, come along if you would, and assist me. We need to gather our own supplies, and see the horses readied."

She was already getting up and leaving as she was giving her orders.

"Indeed, and a carriage," Lancelot said.

"No!" Asabel said loudly. "I am sick and tired of sitting in a carriage like a parrot in a cage. I can ride a horse just as well as any of you, and I shall. We shall not be slowed to the pace of a carriage trundling along, Lord Blackwell will wish to make distance…"

Her voice trailed off as she took her lengthy strides in her dress down the corridor, leaving just Lord Idris and Lord Blackwell, and the busy attendants who still had to finish all the work that the Queen had left behind.

"She's changed," Blackwell said.

"War will do that to a person," Idris said. "Usually, however, not for the better."

"She's enthusiastic about this march," Blackwell said suspiciously. "Merely for the want of activity, do you suppose, or has something else gotten to her?"

"Well, that would depend. What else do you suppose might be motivating her, Lord Blackwell? Is there another destination she has in mind on her march towards the Emerson King?"

"So you're thinking the same thing," Lord Blackwell sighed. "She's far too young for this. She is good at it – she's destined for it. But in the end, she's far too young. She ought not have been pulled into this so early. Another few years, a chance to enjoy that childishness that she's currently allowing herself to indulge in. To be so excited merely at seeing her friend, despite the dire state of these two battles we will have to wade through. I suppose it is the same for the boy after all. There's childishness in him too."

"Perhaps they are better suited to it than we," Idris said thoughtfully, toying with the quill that Queen Asabel had left behind, before gently setting it down in an inkwell. "The young adapt quickly, do they not? A child quickly learns the language of its environment, whatever it might be. The language those two are learning is one of a different sort, but it is no less such an adaption."

"You mean to suggest that we've created the perfect environment to see monsters bred?" Blackwell said with a snort. "I'd hate to think it. But perhaps you're right. The young that survive this war, and grow from it, they'll be terrifying creatures indeed."

Lord Idris looked up, his expression a touch dangerous. "Do you not see, Lord Blackwell? They already are. I do not know the measure of a General quite as well as you, but for Queen Asabel, I can say that what she is becoming is a dangerous thing indeed. She is of a standard that the other Silver Kings will struggle to match."

The realm did shift. Even beyond that which those involved already supposed it to be. Winter storms battered villages, and the walls of great cities. They sent snows piling up high. The promise of spring, which now ought to have been nearing closeness, still seemed a great distance away, when such cold, and such ice ran through them all.

It made Kings on their thrones shiver, and snap at their servants for more logs to be put on the many fires of their great halls. No matter how well stoked those flames, the orders remained the same – more, more. Drive away the heat. Do whatever you can to fight the cold from our bones. But it was a war that those royal men were losing, in the same way that the peasantry in their villages were.