Valgrane laid choking on the floor, holding his throat as the blood in his neck constricted.
Then a crow perched itself on Lucien's shoulder.
Even the fire in their lamps dimmed at the crow's arrival.
And suddenly, for everyone it all made sense.
A God has descended.
Valgrane widened his eyes, hand on his throat as he bowed.
His vassals, once proud nobles lowered their heads as Albert and his men knelt.
The Crow of War, the symbol of House Carwin.
The founder of the Holy Auvirian Empire.
Has given its favor to their prince.
Lucien snapped his finger as the tent breathed out a gasp.
No one moved. All stood frozen, awaiting their permission to breathe.
Lucien walked to his seat, stepping over Valgrane's bowed form.
He sat, hands crossed, the axe by his side.
"Now, I don't ask you to trust me completely. I simply ask that you give me a chance."
He grabbed the axe and lifted the weight with little effort, magic coursing through his arm.
He raised the duke up with its edge. "Don't you think so, Duke Valgrane? Should we not begin?"
Valgrane brushed the axe aside as he stood, "By your will, Your Majesty."
Lucien clapped, beaming. "Now that we have found ourselves in agreement."
He gestured for them to continue, "You were saying something before I arrived, tell me."
A man stood up, coughing in his hand. "Yes, because of your majesty's valiant charge. We were able to stop the complete destruction of our army."
Lucien smirked, "I see," He leaned back, "But that doesn't really give me much does it?"
He stared at the duke, "How about you Duke Valgrane? Do you have anything to add?"
The Duke clenched his hand, fighting something within him. Silent, dismissive.
Lucien tapped the wooden table. "Tell me Duke, how did you lose?"
The Duke growled, angered at the reminder.
A man interjected on his behalf, "We believed the marsh impassable."
"Ah, I see. The good old surprise charge, yes?"
Duke growled, "The dishonorable bastard charged through the marsh and gutted my flank.."
"Who?" He asked, eyebrow raised.
"Count Edevan." A man muttered.
"Count Edevan." Lucien repeated, just as the crow ruffled its feathers.
Hmm. It seems to be a name worth remembering.
He folded his fingers together, "Is he the leader of this Gallantien Army?"
"King Alaric, your Majesty." A man offered.
"How old is he?"
"Sixteen." Another answered.
"I see, it seems we have found ourselves in a most opportune time."
He chuckled, "Someone bring me a map?"
With a turn, his eyes settled on Albert who quickly ran out of the tent.
"Can anyone tell me how this battle even started? An insult? An opportune time? Or perhaps an uncalled-for invasion by a young king demanding to be taken seriously?"
His laughter tinkled across the room, as the vassals shifted.
Suddenly aware of his words.
"Does anyone understand my words, or are you all just nodding along?"
The vassals looked at one another, as Duke Valgrane nodded, suddenly in deep thought.
"You saying the little shit came here to stabilize his rule."
"Correct, and stabilization requires victory, and the more glory the man has. The more popular his name becomes."
Albert entered with maps at his back. Figures in his fingers.
"All that's left now is to… feed that impulse."
Valgrane sighed, accepting, "To lure in the beast, you give it bait."
"Exactly." He takes a small piece and settles it in the middle, "Now, gentlemen."
He looked at them, eyes gleaming. "Tell me, how close do you smell victory?"
———————————————————
Dawn broke open with a blare of a horn.
Hooves thundered across wet grass.
The sounds of boots striking the ground echoed across the forest trails.
Lucien sat tall atop his horse overlooking the army.
Valgrane rode beside him, silent, hand gripping his axe.
Lucien smirked, "You seem to have your nerves about you."
"I have!" Valgrane growled then hesitated, "I'll do as you ordered, don't fuck this up."
"Oh, your trust is appreciated. Your Grace." Lucien replied.
Albert walked by their side, "Your Majesty, the scouts are all accounted for."
"What are their reports?"
"The same as before, no enemies have been found in a five kilometer radius."
Lucien's eyes narrowed across the horizon, "And the Gallantiens formation."
"It is as you've predicted. Count Edevan has been sent to the rear."
"So, I suppose that means I'm correct." Lucien chuckled, "Wisdom is not Alaric's strong suit."
Unexpectedly, a man ran to his side, bearing with him a letter.
"Your Majesty, the Gallantiens desire to seek peace."
Valgrane furrowed his brows, "I refuse to even conside—"
"C'mon now, I'm sure we can find some common ground."
"You!" Valgrane roared, "You wish to sell us out!"
"None of the sort, like I said before, my only desire is to win. And this is a moment to win."
"You!" He turned to him in horror, "You wouldn't dare?"
"Are you implying assassination during negotiations?"
"Again, with the assumptions." Lucien shook his head, "You think of me so little."
"I fucking wonder why?" Valgrane sighed, "If not, then what?"
"There's a reason they'd ask for these, either a weakness to exploit or a revision of plans."
Valgrane gave out a reluctant nod, "I suppose I should."
"I'd meet them, I would like to be the face of negotiations this time, yes?"
"Fine."
Lucien rode forward alone towards the tent standing between two armies.
His figure lit up by the breaking dawn.
Lucien brushed the tent flaps aside, just to be greeted.
"Good morning," A man greeted, his face pale and unshaken.
"Good morning to you as well, good fellow." Lucien beamed.
He offered his hand, "My name is Lucien Everine. The Seventh Prince of the Holy Auvirian Empire."
The man stared at it for a long while before shaking it, "My name is Roland Evaden."
"Ah, Count Evaden. The count of such worth, your reputation precedes you."
"And yours do too little to tell." He muttered, eyes narrowed.
"Oh, I am flattered." Lucien chuckled.
He pulled over his seat, and sat, hands tapping the wooden table. "Now, what sort of peace do you offer?"
"Are you done?" Evaden asked, eyes half lidded as an owl appeared from the shadows.
Lucien's eyes narrowed, and the mask fell as a crow came out to meet it.
He stared, disinterested. "I am, and so it seems, are you."
Evaden stared at him as the owl opened its beak as a soft ethereal voice left its throat. "Brother Crow, it has been a while."
The crow ruffled its feathers, the light dimming. "Before the end of the Auvidian Empire."
"Good times, was it not." The owl cooed, before a soft flicker of light settled between them.
"It seems you have found a contractor."
"Ok, looks like we're already at the same wavelength here."
"It seems so," Lucien crossed his legs, "What do you desire?"
"I want the throne of Gallantien, and I want Alaric dead."
"Done," Lucien remarked, "And what do I get in return?"
"A decade of peace."
"A decade? I find that hard to believe."
"There's gonna be about seven years of civil war in Gallantien. The extra three is me giving you time to get ready."
Lucien tapped his finger, "I see, but isn't that three years for you? Not for me?"
"Perhaps, but it is time for you all the same."