Chapter 269: Muted Sun

Chapter 269: Muted Sun

Muted Sun

Korimor's Chamberlain Ingrid

Propelled by the urgency of the Great Gemstone, Ingrid strode toward the innermost chamber of the castle, where the Lord resided. Flashes from the previous night still lingered in her mind. She remembered how the Lord had entered, his armor bloodstained and broken, flanked by his men in the same condition. That powerful image would likely remain with her for a long time. It was clear he had fought his way through a rebellion to see his newborn.

This wasn't the first time Ingrid had seen him return from battle, but even so, her already high regard for him rose even higher.

She remembered the first time they met, in a tent outside Three Hills City. Back then, Ingrid was struck by the absence of magic in him but otherwise found him unremarkable. He had a reputation as a warlord, but there were plenty of nobles with more obvious charm, sharper wit, or a commanding presence.

By comparison, Lord Lansius seemed largely unassuming except for his black hair. He was like a book bound in plain leather, without ornament. Yet, once one saw his battles, his policies, and the efficiency of his court, any doubts were erased. He was far more capable than even the best nobles in the Imperium.

And last night, Ingrid saw what the Lord was truly capable of, and the battle reports backed it up.

The witnesses stated clearly that the Lord had achieved nothing short of miracles in last night's battle, not just once, but several times in a row.

A man capable of consistent victories. There was nothing more reassuring to his subjects, and nothing more terrifying to his enemies.

She walked down the corridor toward the Lord's chamber, now bolstered by two SAR members and Francisca.

"Meeting someone, my dear?" the half-breed teased, flashing a toothy grin. She had returned at dawn after a night of reconnaissance and had dutifully resumed her post after a quick bath.

"Indeed. There is news the Lord must hear," Ingrid replied, pausing in front of the tall, beastlike but fluffy creature. "You should get some rest, dear friend."

Francisca let out a deep, rumbling chuckle, her maw parting in what passed for a smile. "Only if you join me. Maybe in the garden, under the shade?"

"Tempting. I'll look forward to it once my task is done."

The half-breed nodded, and Ingrid made her way to the door. Margo opened it for her without a word. To enter unannounced was a privilege reserved for only a few.

Once the door opened, Ingrid could hear the muffled sound of a baby crying from the master chamber. It was, of course, the heir of House Blue and Bronze, the very baby she had helped deliver. Just recalling the event was enough to make her break out in a sweat again. She had prepared and requested Valerie and Claire to assist, but she never imagined it would take three mages just to restrain the mother.

Before she stepped inside, Ingrid asked Margo, "Did the boy cry all night?"

Margo, his eyes red from lack of sleep, nodded with a tired smile. "A healthy boy," he remarked.

The cries echoed again as Ingrid entered the inner sanctum of this castle, a space reserved for the Lord's family. At the far end, she saw the Lady, her own eyes slightly red but full of life, carrying the baby as she walked in and out of the chamber, gently rocking him.

Meanwhile, in the nearby corner beneath the glass window, the father, the constant victor, lay motionless on the daybed, lightly snoring under a blanket. He was so exhausted that not even the baby’s cries bothered his sleep.

Watching him, Ingrid couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief.

Tanya and an old nanny were also inside, preparing a fresh change for the baby.

The Lord's sister spotted Ingrid and almost greeted her, but Ingrid waved her down and motioned toward the Lord, who was still sleeping.

Suddenly, Ingrid sensed magic in the air. The Lady had created a bubble of air around the Lord, having handed the baby to the old nanny. "Is there anything new, Ingrid?" the Lady asked as she approached.

"Yes," Ingrid replied, steadying herself. "I just found out that the Great Gemstone that we secured from Cascasonne Castle was unfortunately lost during last night's fighting. I only learned of it a moment ago."

The Lady frowned as she gathered her thoughts. She finally said, "I assume this is about more than just a mere loss."

"My Lady is correct. In the hands of a capable mage, the Great Gemstone can become a powerful weapon." Ingrid glanced around and lowered her voice. "It's as good as having a thousand or even ten thousand sources at your fingertips."

The Lady turned her gaze aside, her anxiety clear in her eyes. Even as a novice mage, just seeing the exterior of the Great Gemstone was enough for her to sense the wealth of power contained inside. Compared to it, a Gemstone of Might was like a single hair beside a forest. "But shouldn’t it be really difficult to repurpose?"

"Indeed. Otherwise, mages would be carrying them into battle or installing them atop castle walls to fend off attackers. However, in the hands of a skilled mage..."

The Lady understood the sentiment. "So the question is, how capable is Saint Nay?"

Ingrid exhaled. "She’s certainly resourceful enough to cause this kind of rebellion."

The Lady’s eyes grew distant for a moment before she decided, "Do what you can to retrieve it. It should still be with the rebels outside."

She paused to gather her thoughts, then continued, "Although there have been no reports of sightings, even if they have run away, the Great Gemstone is not a light object. I’ll speak with the Lord and let him know. I might be overstepping my authority, but treat this as a high priority."

Ingrid dipped her head. "Yes, My Lady."

"Then tell me, what is your plan?" the Lady asked before the chamberlain could leave.

"I’ll notify the Orange Skalds. They can send hawks to warn our men outside; we’ll be needing their eyes. I may also use the connections the Shogunate Bank has with the guilds to broaden our search."

The Lady nodded in agreement. "As long as it doesn't interfere with our defense of other towns and cities."

"I have received confirmation from many cities. They have received our warning and have shut their gates until we deal with the riots," Ingrid reported, to which Audrey nodded. She then added, "Also, I'm planning to meet with Clementine."

"Ah," the Lady mumbled. "She should be at home. She did not accompany Sir Harold. And with this rebellion connected to Saint Nay, I doubt Sir Omin has mobilized her. Do you wish to summon her?"

"I'll just be visiting to ask some questions about Saint Nay. But I will need Francisca."

Hearing the half-breed mentioned, the Lady hesitated. "No, that might not be wise. If you need Francisca, it's better to wait until Sir Harold returns. She clearly isn't involved in this Great Gemstone matter. Besides, whatever the answer may be, whether Saint Nay is a great mage or not, I will make sure we take back what is ours."

"Understood, My Lady." Ingrid excused herself and began her task of finding the Great Gemstone.

...

Lansius

Even in the dead of night, Lansius kept receiving reports and communicating with the hill camp. They were desperate for every kind of medicine from simple honey, disinfecting sour wine, strong alcohol, and poppy milk. They also requested large amounts of clean linen for bandages and more physicians. The constant flood of requests battered his mind, exhaustion piling up. He had already used all his resources and risked a guarded convoy to deliver what they needed, yet they still asked for more.

Why do they need so much? What happened out there? Have they really stopped fighting? Are they lying to me?

He woke with a start, nearly jolting off his daybed. He propped himself up to keep from falling as sweat streamed down his face. His heart still hammered in his chest as he looked left and right, only to find sunlight pouring in from the window and the sound of birds chirping drifting in from outside.

Lansius let out a long breath, realizing it had all been a dream. Immediately, he noticed how parched he was.

"Oh," a voice came from the far end.

Lansius turned and saw Audrey walking toward him. "Lookie, lookie, daddy has woken up now."

"Daddy?" Lansius echoed. Suddenly, every nerve in his body fired at once.

He saw the baby sleeping against his mother's breast, looking completely comfortable there. Audrey was about to sit next to Lansius, so he shifted to give her more space.

Once she settled beside him, the baby reacted in a funny way, as if wishing his mother would keep moving.

"He still wants to be inside me," Audrey said. "Carried around all day." She teased the baby's ears, making faces and wiggling her fingers, which set the little one to squirming and making expressions in response.

"So we really have a baby," Lansius remarked in amazement, still feeling as if it wasn’t quite real.

"Of course. A son, just like I always told you," she replied with a smug smile.

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His heart skipped as he watched her lips curve. "Where is everybody?"

"Tanya is helping the nanny wash the baby's clothes. She wants to make sure everything is properly cleaned and dried. Mother is cooking something for me. And Valerie... well, she kept me company almost the whole night, so she should be sleeping in her chamber now."

"So it’s just us," Lansius said.

Audrey let out another smile. "Yes, just the three of us. Our little family."

Lansius leaned closer. When Audrey realized what he wanted, she said, "Wait, my face is sweaty and all."

"Have I ever minded?" He kissed her, slow and deep, a long wordless promise that said I love you, always.

They stayed like that, motionless, until the baby shifted in Audrey’s arms, as if protesting his parents' stolen moment. The two parted and laughed softly at their son’s reaction.

"He's so sweet," Audrey murmured, nuzzling the baby. He squirmed and scrunched his face, looking ready to cry, so she quickly stopped.

She turned to him and asked, "So, what are you going to call the baby?"

Lansius stroked his chin, thinking it over. "Well, should we go with Galahad or Callahad?"

Audrey considered it. "Galahad could be called Gill, but Callahad...?"

Lansius nodded in understanding. "Gill sounds better to me."

"Let's ask the wise men first. I want to hear their thoughts, just for tradition's sake." She gazed at him warmly, then suggested, "You'd better get some late breakfast before things heat up again."

Lansius glanced at the sun and carefully rose from the daybed, taking care not to startle the baby in her arms. "What about the reports?"

"Don't worry, it's still quiet. Not like this little one when he's hungry or needs changing."

Lansius snorted softly. "Then I'll head to the Great Chamber. You should join me."

"Of course, I'll join you. Whether it's for meal or battle," she said as she stood from the daybed.

Lansius was amused. "To battle? But you have him," he said, pouring water from a silver jug into a clean goblet.

"No worries. I have Mother, Tanya, and Valerie to take care of him."

Lansius took a drink and frowned. "But what about the mother's milk?"

"We have a wet nurse on hand if needed. She's from an esquire’s family in Korelia. Her husband died in the fields of Korimor, and I took her into my household under Ingrid’s care. When her pregnancy was advanced, she moved in with Mother Arryn. She’s been living there for some time now."

"I did not know that..."

"It's a woman’s matter," she replied with a reassuring note.

"No wonder Tanya is so good with the baby," Lansius remarked.

"Yes, the wet nurse's own daughter is almost two month old."

"She never told me that."

"It's because you're so busy lately. You know, with the justice matters, and then the horse race," Audrey replied.

"Ah, yes. Sir Ebenstein's case," he muttered.

"You should spend some time with Tanya."

Lansius exhaled softly. "I wish I could, but with the siege..."

Audrey rocked the baby gently in her arms. "I doubt we can do anything before the army from Ploiesta arrives. Omin said it would be good for you to be seen in the city, doing normal things."

Lansius considered this and nodded. "I'll do what I can. I've been meaning to teach her horseback riding for a while now."

"That's probably best out in the fields," Audrey commented.

"Unfortunately so," Lansius replied, relieved to speak of lighter things instead of battles and wars.

...

Lansius had late breakfast with Audrey. Afterward, she confided in him about the Great Gemstone and how it might be used as a weapon by the Saint Candidate. The news shocked him, but he felt little regret. He had done all he could in last night’s battle. It had been simply a matter of life and death. He agreed to make retrieving the Great Gemstone a priority and had tasked his scribes to search the castle library on the topic of the recorded usage of Great Gemstone.

Once he felt refreshed and ready, Lansius and Audrey summoned a war council.

There were few sightings about the rebels, even from the hill camp, and that made them uneasy. Naturally, Lansius considered sending out a mounted reconnaissance party.

"It's either mounted scouts or half-breeds," Sir Omin suggested as they gathered in the council chamber, all seated around a long table.

Francisca, standing in the corner, showed no reaction to the suggestion. She watched the world outside through a narrow vertical window built for archers, her expression unreadable. Lansius was glad to see she was uninjured, though some of her fur was still stained a light yellowish ochre.

"If there's no immediate risk, the cavalry should suffice," Lansius said, wanting to preserve Francisca and her kin in case another night battle erupted.

Sterling, his head wrapped in a fresh bandage but stubbornly insisting on doing his job as usual, spoke up. "Then, by your permission, I will arrange for twelve cavalrymen from the castle to scout the city outskirts. Three will ride out from each gate."

"Are the castle garrison men and horses truly fresh and well rested?" Lansius asked.

"Yes, they have seen no action, not even a night patrol," Sir Omin replied.

Lansius turned to Audrey, who nodded.

Without objection, he addressed the council, "Then let's send them. But make sure to tell them not to take unnecessary risks. Have a mounted reaction force ready if needed."

Sterling bowed his head and left the chamber, but not before casting a quick glance at Claire, who still sat inside.

Claire had returned on Francisca's arm at dawn and now prepared to give her report.

Noticing this, Lansius motioned for her to speak.

"My Lord, when I left, the hill camp was in good condition," Claire reported, her eyes tired. "The wounded are under control. They have enough medicines and bandages. The physicians and I managed to stop the worst bleeders. Many are bedridden, but not all are critical. More importantly, they have enough people to care for them."

The camp had well-supplied mobile medical units attached to it, and that made all the difference.

"What are the most common wounds?" Lansius asked.

"Most of the cases the physicians treated were punctures and lacerations to the arms and legs. There are several with broken bones or fractures."

"How about wounds to the chest or the body?"

Claire frowned in thought and answered, "I don't recall many."

At a glance, the investment in armor he started back in Korelia was paying off. Lansius looked forward to the day he could equip all his men with improved Midlandian armor. Still, he reminded himself to be wary of survivorship bias. He would have his staff look into it further when they had the chance. "So, how many casualties?"

"Light, My Lord," she replied. "The bodies will be bathed, given their last hours under the sun, and interred inside the hill camp unless the siege is suddenly lifted."

Lansius nodded and after a moment said to the council, "So, no attack, and our men are recovering. Wonderful news. Not a bad day for a city under siege."

Audrey at his side said, "Maybe they really retreated after taking the Great Gemstone."

Sir Omin, Claire, and Francisca all turned to her.

"Maybe you should explain the situation," Lansius suggested, and Audrey shared Ingrid's concern with the council.

A heavy silence settled over the chamber.

"Makes sense," Omin muttered. "I always felt that for the monastery to send nine thousand against Cascasonne was a bit much. It wouldn't be surprising if they secretly wanted to seize relics like the Great Gemstone."

Nobody had any response to that suspicion.

Not wanting to dwell on conspiracy theories, Lansius said, "Right, bolts and alchemists. Sir Omin, can you do something about our depleted supplies?"

"I already have, My Lord. Since last night, the fletchers have been working late to make new batches. We’ve stockpiled sharpened bolt heads, and I have notified the blacksmiths that we’re willing to purchase more."

"Good," Lansius replied, satisfied. "Ensure both quality and quantity. Let them scale up production if needed."

"As you wish," Sir Omin made a note in his record.

Lansius looked around at his council, wishing Sir Harold, Calub, or Sir Michael were present to lend their advice. "With our situation as it is, I’m sure everyone knows there will be no peace until we drive the fanatics out of the monastery."

There were no objections to his declaration. Audrey, seated beside him, showed her full support with a firm nod.

Only Sir Omin spoke up, offering a word of caution. "My Lord, while you don’t need the Shogunate’s approval, I think it’s best to involve the other Lords as well."

"Good advice," Lansius said, making a mental note.

Resuming the council meeting, Sir Omin said, "As for the Alchemist Guild, I met with them this morning and signed an order for a hundred fire bottles and fifty jars of burning sand. They told me they're ready to supply what little they have in stock and are preparing to make more."

Lansius nodded. "Summon them. There’s something I want to discuss face to face."

"Then, by your leave, I’ll send my men to fetch them," Sir Omin replied, bowing before he left the chamber.

No sooner had he gone than the door opened again and the camp commander stepped inside. Francisca glanced his way, and the two exchanged a nod.

"My Lord, My Lady," Karl greeted, his eyes wide as he took in the chamber. It was his first time here.

"Ah, please, come in," Lansius said, gesturing for the camp commander to take a seat.

Karl walked over and chose an empty chair near Claire, leaving a seat between them. He sat, his back straight and his movements respectful.

Audrey broke the silence. "I take it you've been to the infirmary. How’s Dame Daniella?"

"She’s recovering, My Lady," he replied, but his tone turned bitter. "It will be some time before she can walk or write again."

"She'll receive the best treatment available," Lansius declared with authority, wanting to keep morale high. Then he continued, "Before I patrol the city wall to check on the garrison and perhaps visiting the people in the city, shall we talk about rewards?"

Karl's face brightened. He had come hoping to ask for permission to return to his hill camp with a few riders, but talk of rewards filled him with anticipation. Meanwhile, Audrey couldn’t hide a small pout, knowing she hadn’t taken part in the latest battle.

"Shall I call lady Ingrid or Sir Omin?" Claire said, feeling inadequate to discuss the matter.

"Just write this down for me. It's vital that the men are rewarded properly," Lansius said, then began dictating: two hundred and seventy gold coins for the men-at-arms, and three hundred silver for the recruits and volunteers. He also wanted to set aside a fund for the gravely wounded and for the families of those killed in action.

Lansius finished with, "The formal ceremony will have to wait until the siege is lifted, but let it be known that I have decided to dub Sterling as Knight and Karl as Squire-at-Arms—"

Karl stood abruptly, stunned by the honor of being made an armiger with the right to bear a coat of arms. Across the room, Claire’s eyes widened, unblinking, as she realized her husband would soon be knighted.

Lansius motioned for Karl to wait, then continued, "Several others will also be promoted to captain’s assistant or esquire, once the staff have reviewed their deeds in the records."

"My Lord," Karl approached to his side and knelt.

"It's not yet official," Lansius told him.

"Your words alone are enough."

"Documents say otherwise," Lansius replied with a hint of a smile.

"Then I shall eagerly wait." Karl rose to his feet.

Lansius turned to Claire. "Nobody will greet your husband with 'Sir' until the accolade is complete."

"Gratitude, My Lord, My Lady," Claire replied, nodding gracefully.

"Permission to speak?" Karl asked, his voice carrying a new energy.

Lansius glanced at Audrey, who smiled in encouragement. "Speak."

"A favor, My Lord. You may have seen it in the reports already, but your riders and I were saved by duck riders."

"Duck riders...?" Lansius looked at him, genuinely confused.

"Yes. According to the meisters’ account, they broke through the reinforcements meant to besiege us, then charged the columns chasing us to the city gate."

Lansius was momentarily speechless. "The duck did that?"

"Yes," Karl replied, mistaking Lansius’ confusion for interest. "I believe we could integrate them into a separate heavy cavalry."

"Duck heavy cavalry...?" Lansius echoed, still trying to picture it.

But heavy cavalry is the most prestigious. Does this mean that someday they’ll expect me to ride one of those beasts?

"I’ll bring it up with the other council members and give it proper consideration," Lansius said, offering a tactical delay.

At that moment, Lady Ingrid entered, her timing impeccable. "I apologize for the interruption, but the crowd outside has grown too large. It could turn dangerous. I think it's time to bring the baby to the castle balcony. The people are waiting."

***

Canardia Outskirts

It was cloudy and the sun had already passed midday. Accompanied by seventy riders, half of them SAR and three half-breeds, Sir Harold rode to Canardia after a hawk brought word of riots at the race. They had prepared throughout the evening and ridden through the night. Aside from a brief stop for some light sleep and breakfast, they pressed on without pause, only slowing when they encountered stragglers to question for information. With no appetite for lunch and the overcast sky keeping the heat at bay, they continued forward.

Before long, the familiar Canardian countryside greeted them with its fields and distant walls.

"It's quiet. I don't see anything moving," one of the half-breeds remarked as they stopped by a small stream to let the horses catch their breath.

"The stragglers we picked up spoke about a mass of people, rebels, and Saint followers," a SAR member said, dismounting to check his mount’s girth.

"Should have sent us straight to the monastery to burn it down," another grumbled, drawing a low chorus of agreement.

The tall knight said nothing at first, his gaze sweeping over the arena, the city, and the abandoned sea of tents in between. "I should have stayed," he muttered, bitter at being away again from the Lord’s side when trouble came.

More than anyone, he wished to be the one to ride up to the monastery and simply slap Saint Nay until she realized it was no longer worth being alive.

After twenty minutes of resting the traveling horses, they switched to their primary warhorses, a habit learned from their time with the nomads.

"Where to, Sir?" his lead rider asked from the saddle, reins in hand.

"To the arena," Sir Harold answered. His sword hand twitched for blood, and fury burned in his chest at the sight of the Blue and Bronze banner missing from the stands of the vast structure. He made a silent vow. Whoever was responsible would beg for mercy before the end.

***