Chapter 271: Route’s End

Chapter 271: Route’s End

Route’s End

Lansius

It was noon on the second day after the rebellion. Clouds hung low over Canardia City, and the wind that whipped past carried the stench of rot and old blood from the fields beyond the walls. Outside, packs of carrion birds of all sizes came and went. Underneath the cloudy skies, the banner of the Roaring Lion suddenly appeared on the horizon. It was the heraldry of Lord Robert of White Lake, the Lion of Lowlandia, flying proudly above a line of hundreds of cavalry, followed by what looked like a massive company of men, carts, and carriages.

Yet, despite his position in the Shogunate and his reputation as a trusted ally, unease spread among the defenders.

If he were truly an ally, why come unannounced?

If he brought reinforcements, why arrive so quickly?

If he had heard about the rebellion, why not send a warning?

If it were only a coincidence, why lead such a force to Canardia a day after a rebellion?

Lansius stood at the battlements, watching as twenty riders led by Francisca and Sterling exited the west gate and headed toward the newly arrived force. These twenty would hail the newcomers and determine whether they were friend or foe. The half-breeds should be able to sniff out lies and deceit. In the meantime, he had ordered Karl to gather as many cavalrymen as possible from the city and castle, in case the first group found trouble. He needed a sizeable reaction force ready.

Sir Omin arrived to discuss the city's defense. The Orange Skalds had detained several suspects, but the city was likely still home to elements of the Saint Followers, and this was a cause for concern.

"We have caught several, but interrogation will take time," Sir Omin reported.

"Whatever you do, do not use torture. The information you get from it is just as good as useless. I need the truth. Tell them to find another way. Use your mind tricks on them," Lansius instructed.

"It will go against the written method. Does My Lord have a more concrete idea?"

Lansius exhaled. "I shall write a short guide," he said, despite the weariness piling up.

"Noted," Sir Omin said coldly. He was efficient and could easily be seen as uncaring.

Yet Lansius knew the man had racked up considerable merit. First, he had been meticulous in preparing everything related to the birth of Lansius' son: cleaning half the castle, installing new insect-proof rush mats, applying a fresh coat of oil or varnish to furniture, doors, and even wooden beams, essentially proofing the place against pests. He even ordered a rocking baby bed. The newborn was Omin’s first cousin once removed, but it was more likely due to his responsibility than family ties.

But the greatest merit was his stroke of genius in using the Orange Skalds to buy off the hired swords in the Arena. This move reduced the number of professional fighters, lowered the rioters' morale, and coincidentally allowed the race duck to survive, which ultimately saved Sterling, Karl, Daniella, and the riders.

Sir Omin also organized the defense of the city and castle at a time when no one else was in charge.

Like it or not, his former enemy had proved highly capable.

"Riders!" The warning shout pulled Lansius from his thoughts.

He turned as the lookout reported with utmost urgency, "Riders coming from the west."

"West?" Lansius blurted. Even his guards looked concerned. That was the direction of the arena and hill camp, the likeliest place for a rebel holdout.

Sir Omin quickly went closer to the lookout with the optics, and Lansius followed with his guards.

"Can you identify their colors?" Sir Omin asked.

"They have no banner. It's unclear."

"How many?" Lansius asked.

"Twenty—no, more. Forty. There is more behind."

"My Lord, should we get Sterling out?" the gate lieutenant asked.

"Where's the camp commander?" Lansius asked.

"He's still forming up more riders from the castle," Sir Omin answered, then dashed toward the stairs to deliver the news.

"Wait, wait," the lookout said, catching everyone's attention. "I see half-breeds!"

Immediately, the courtyard erupted with reactions. Some let out deep sighs of relief, while others stared in disbelief.

"Are we not the only ally the half-breeds have in all Midlandia?" a veteran muttered, squinting to get a better look.

"Sir Harold is with several, but he should still be days away," the lieutenant responded.

Lansius exhaled slowly. "Let's not waste our breath. If these new riders are moving toward us, let’s just wait and see."

True to his words, in just a few moments, the lookout shouted, "It's Sir Harold, he's waving his hands!"

Tension melted from the men gathered at the west gate. Some chuckled at their earlier panic, others took deep breaths.

With Sir Harold’s return, along with his riders and the half-breeds, their strength more than doubled. Even though he was not a mage-knight, he was the champion.

"How can you be so sure?" one asked the lookout, his tone lighter now.

"I'd recognize that square jaw anywhere," the lookout quipped, earning laughter from the crowd.

"Enough noise, we’re still under threat," Sir Omin warned as he returned with Karl in tow.

They approached Lansius, and Karl reported, "My Lord, the cavalry is ready. We even have the war ducks prepared in light armor."

They did what?

"Let's keep the war ducks in reserve," Lansius commanded. Then, feeling compelled to explain, he added, "I'm sure, just like Sir Harold, this too should be Lord Robert. The Lion might be trying some surprise, or I might be forgetting a plan or a promise."

Lansius' words steadied his men, and they all stood, waiting patiently as the two forces revealed themselves.

...

Sir Harold's riders arrived first. After seeing his face directly and finding nothing amiss, Lansius ordered the gate to be opened.

The city gates swung open, and Sir Harold's force quickly entered. They dismounted, and he alone climbed the flight of stairs into the gatehouse. Lansius' guards escorted him, and he was heading straight for Lansius when he suddenly stopped and turned toward a small chamber.

He looked guarded and confused as he greeted, "My Lady?"

Lansius raised his brow, while everyone else exchanged glances.

But Harold’s greeting proved true. The Lady appeared, dressed in half-plate and half ringmail. Claire and Margo were with her, along with another servant who carried a giant bow and a spare quiver on his back.

"My Lady," the men greeted, even from afar. Just seeing her lifted everyone's spirits.

Lansius moved directly toward her, with Sir Omin and Karl following close behind.

"My Lord," Sir Harold greeted, and Lansius gave a nod in acknowledgment before turning toward Audrey.

"I didn't see you there."

"That is the intention. I don't want to bother you," she replied.

Lansius saw through her guise and felt a flicker of amusement. He knew she was probably afraid he would ride into another battle without her. "Then join me," he said, fully aware she would shadow him regardless.

Audrey nodded and turned to Sir Harold. "How are the highlands?"

"I haven't reached there," the tall knight answered. "We were at a manor, resting, when a rider from Nazo highland found us with a hawk message, saying there were riots in Canardia. I turned back at once and rode here as fast as our horses could manage."

"You guessed correctly. We are in deep trouble," Lansius admitted.

"I want to ask about the gruesome fields of death outside," Sir Harold said, "but more importantly, who is coming with the big army toward the city?"

"You shouldn't worry," Audrey said, gazing out toward the southern plain. "It's the Old Lion. Sterling and Francisca have turned around. Sir Michael is riding with them."

For the third time, everyone breathed a little easier. Tension melted, and relieved murmurs ran through the group.

Among this company, nobody questioned her eyesight. Not even the lookout with the Ekionian optic. Ironically, Lansius kept forgetting just how powerful her vision was.

Sir Omin cleared his throat before asking, "But what about the large army behind them?"

"I don't see any," Audrey replied. "I only saw carts and carriages loaded with goods. They look like merchants, not soldiers."

Her observation left everyone puzzled. Neither Sir Harold nor Sir Omin had any idea.

"Could it be the caravan from the west?" Lansius wondered aloud, recalling messages that might hint at this development.

"The Southern Trade? But they should have sent a message," Sir Omin said, finding it hard to believe.

Lansius ventured, "It might not be a finalized deal. The Lion probably met them somewhere and proposed the idea."

Sir Omin stroked his chin. "Indeed, he looked the part. Just like in battle, he's always spontaneous."

"Then," Karl interrupted, "should we accept them into the city?"

There was still lingering suspicion, which was only natural with the rebel force still at large.

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"I can set more precautions in place to guard against possible threats from within," Sir Omin offered.

Lansius had yet to decide when Sir Harold volunteered, "Let my riders and I inspect the merchants. I'll make it inconspicuous. They will see us as nothing more than escorts."

"That should work," Lansius agreed. "You should take fresh horses from the city stable and ride."

"Gratitude, My Lord. Then, I shall take my riders."

Audrey reminded Lansius, "Karl has prepared more than a hundred riders. They can assist."

"No," Lansius refused. "Let's keep them fresh for now. If the Lion is truly with us, then we'll have enough force to chase and hunt down the rebels. The rebellion ends today."

***

South Trade Caravan

After being captured and spending time in Corinthia, the freed caravan, now accompanied by a larger escort, continued their journey on an altered course. Taking the land route, they reached South Hill to trade and replenish their strength before pressing on to the City of Three Hills, the most populous city in Lowlandia. Lord Jorge welcomed them with great fanfare. It was the first time direct trade from the Western Provinces had come through, and everyone seized the chance to make a fat profit.

Without the numerous middlemen, many goods could be acquired cheaply, with a quality unseen before. The caravan stayed in the city for eleven days, trading, feasting, and resting, before setting out eastward toward Korelia. With a larger escort, they journeyed through the Great Plains of Lowlandia. It was a long and tiring trek, but far easier than expected. The Lord had set up resting sites at each day's travel, making the journey more than bearable, even almost enjoyable amid the lingering summer heat.

After sixteen days on the road, they finally glimpsed the silhouette of a large walled city, the one they had heard about from every traveler.

Even before they set foot inside, from ten thousand steps away, they could tell it was a remarkable city.

The City of Korelia rose from the empty plains like a jewel set in gold. How it stood alone in the vast emptiness of the Great Plains felt like something out of a tale of wonders. Every member of the caravan, from the easternmost reaches of the Imperium, was in awe as they approached.

The city was blessed with a forest, a steep hill crowned with a castle, several clean creeks, and a mighty river that seemed to flow straight through its heart.

Before this, Korelia was known only as a dusty, windswept castle town in the middle of nowhere. There were more goats than people, good for watering horses and little else.

Now, it had transformed into a magnificent city.

And it didn’t stop at first impressions. When the caravan reached the city gates and took in the sight up close, the reality surpassed every rumor and expectation.

The city wall was still under construction, but everyone could see it was built to last, with staggering width and towering stones. Its gates were massive and could withstand prolonged sieges with ease. Meanwhile, the roads were broad and equipped with flowing sewers. Public plazas featured flowing fountains and lush palm trees. There was innovation in every corner and offerings not found elsewhere.

Yet the most impressive feature was its industrial center, with kilns, forges, and workshops all working overtime.

The city administrator, Meister Calub, and his wife, Lady Cecile, welcomed them on behalf of the Lord and Lady with a grand feast fit for a victory celebration.

The caravan's arrival became the talk of the region. Their coming was already expected, especially among the traders and guilds. Propelled by a new Shogunate-sponsored guild, called SKY Bank, which eased the transfer of funds and provided money lending for members, trade rose to unseen heights. And the merchants did more than just buy and sell. They took careful note of what the city needed, planning to fulfill those demands on their next journey.

Despite some obstacles, such as not all guilds being allowed to trade since not all had supported the Southern Trade, these were mostly minor issues. Many deals were struck, contracts signed, and massive profits secured.

But more than just business, every member of the caravan enjoyed their stay in Korelia. There was a luxurious bathhouse complex, clean inns with comfortable beds, and a bustling market stocked with goods from distant lands. The city offered a rich selection of food, spices, exotic clothes, and fine horses for their journey.

There, they also met Lord Robert of White Lake. He informed them about the latest situation, saying that Edessa was likely hostile and would block their path to the Eastern Kingdoms. Many had suspected something like this would happen after the dissolution of the Imperium and didn't dare push further. Most agreed it was a good run for a first attempt and decided to turn back early.

Upon hearing this, Lord Robert suggested they go north to Midlandia. He convinced them that the civil war was over and the vast, wealthy Midlandia was back in business.

Buoyed by that promise and the Lord Robert’s decision to accompany them, the caravan ended their stay in Korelia and once again set out. First, they headed to the newly established nomadic city of Ordu Khan. They were treated well by Batu Noyan and enjoyed unexpected success in trade, as many nomads had coin to spend and trinkets to barter. Not stopping for long, the caravan marched north into Ornietia.

Arriving in Midlandia, they planned to visit a series of cities on their way to Canardia. At least, that was the plan before Lord Robert and his family, who traveled with them, heard about the horse race and the new arena. The merchants decided to streamline their visit and head directly to Canardia, hoping to make the most profit at the event, which was expected to draw tens of thousands.

Unfortunately, it was not to be.

As they approached Canardia, they received an escort and fresh instructions from the Lord to enter the city without delay.

Many frowned at the order. "Does the city have enough space for all our carts and carriages? Why not allow the caravan to stay somewhere near the Horse Track Arena?"

"It's probably the Lord's invitation," another suggested.

"But does the Lord know about our numbers?" someone else voiced concern.

Usually caravans only numbered a dozen carts or so, so many were worried whether the Lord or his Household understood the scale of their arrival. Their concern was not baseless. Even in large cities, nearly three hundred carts and carriages entering at once would clog the roads and could have serious consequences. Yet, the mounted escorts kept giving their reassurance, and the caravan proceeded to enter the city via the West Gate.

There were ominous signs as some noticed carrion birds circling in the sky. Their fears were soon confirmed.

"A rebellion?" many exclaimed as they entered the city and found the populace confused by their arrival.

There was a moment of panic before they were greeted by Sir Omin, who brought water and refreshments. He explained that the rebellion was mostly over and promised that his staff would provide details as needed. However, due to the unannounced nature of their visit, he asked them to wait while he arranged their lodgings.

Many had lingering doubts, but these quickly faded as a procession of cavalry passed by, filling the city with noise and renewed energy. People lined the streets, leaning from windows and balconies to watch and cheer.

As it turned out, the Lord had planned to crush the rebellion that very day, following a series of victories in last night's battle. This news was well received.

"So it's just a clean-up," one merchant remarked, earning nods from his companions.

They watched and impressed, as tens of horsemen rode alongside heavy cavalry armed with long lances. There were even the mythical half-beasts among them. But the greatest surprise was the sight of mounted beasts none had ever seen before.

"What magnificent creatures," many muttered as dozens of giant beasts marched proudly down the city's main street.

"War ducks?" others whispered in disbelief.

Not only the merchants, but even the townsfolk were captivated by the impressive creatures who, unlike horses, showed no fear of people. They marched with a confidence rarely seen in animals, as if basking in the attention and awe they inspired.

The Lord himself was seen riding in a sturdy war carriage, flanked by his knights in gleaming armor. He was followed by Lord Robert in his carriage, then by a host of cavalry and more than a dozen war wagons filled with crossbowmen, men-at-arms, and supplies.

Watching this show of strength, the merchants’ early panic was soon replaced by excitement. Nobody liked war, but everyone loved being part of victory, especially against traitors and rebels. For merchants like them, such men were no better than robbers and bandits.

For every member of the caravan, one thing was certain. Their journey and stay in Canardia would be the highlight of their lives for years to come.

***

Lansius

After a spirited ride under heavy escort, the carriage with special suspension finally came to a stop at the edge of the battlefield next to the arena, just as Lansius had instructed. This was the place where he had fought the Saint Followers last night. The carriage stopped far enough to avoid the stench of death, yet close enough to see the scattered remains and grasp the scale of the battle.

Lansius and Audrey, accompanied by Claire and Margo, stepped down from the carriage. They were surrounded by hundreds of their own men, armed with crossbows or spears, forming both outer and inner perimeters. Cavalry units stood ready, with the mounted heavies kept in reserve, while half the light riders actively scouted for hostile contacts.

Here, Lansius intended to hold his war council, to witness everything directly rather than rely on secondhand reports. He wanted swift action. The sooner this rebellion ended, the better.

"My Lord," Sterling called as he dismounted. "The bailiff’s men will begin their search."

Lansius gave a firm nod, and fifty men from the bailiff's office began to scour the battlefield, looking for important individuals. It was gruesome work, but necessary. When found and identified, their Houses would be labeled as traitors and purged, their estates and assets confiscated.

"Have our scouts seen any threats?" Audrey asked as they headed toward a tree that offered some shade.

"Nothing, My Lady. They've found no sign of movement. Right now, they've broadened their search."

"No rebel sightings at all? Not even around Hill Camp?" Lansius inquired.

"I think they simply gave up," Sterling said as they reached the shade. "We beat them thoroughly last night. By morning, the rebels must have seen the thousands of dead in the field. I doubt anyone could stomach that."

Lansius exhaled deeply and gave a slow nod, accepting that Sterling might be right. "Did Karl head to Hill Camp?"

"Commander Karl decided to ride north with twenty fast riders. He learned from Sir Harold that there was nothing in the arena."

"Nothing in the arena?" Lansius echoed, genuinely surprised. He had expected the rebels to use it as a holdout.

"Yes, My Lord. Sir Harold sent two half-breeds. They found nothing but severely injured men, likely dying from their wounds."

Lansius frowned. The Arena was simply too vast for even two half-breeds to cover.

"They have a keen sense of smell and hearing," Audrey tried to explain. "That's probably what gave them confidence."

He met her gaze. "We need a more thorough search. We lost SAR members last night. I want to know their fate."

"Then let the SAR handle it, backed by half-breeds and some of my light riders," she suggested.

Lansius nodded, and Audrey stepped aside to organize the search party, with Margo and her guards following.

Meanwhile, Lansius spotted Lord Robert, Sir Michael, and their staff standing some distance away, all gazing out over the fields where thousands lay dead. The bailiff’s men worked diligently among packs of carrion birds that flapped their wings defiantly as they were disturbed.

Lord Robert caught Lansius' look. Their eyes met across the open ground, and, as if by silent agreement, both men strode to meet in the middle while their staff drifted away to give them privacy.

"Lord of White Lake, my apologies for meeting you like this," Lansius spoke first.

"Still won't call me Robert?" the old man quipped, prompting the younger lord to chuckle.

"It's been a while," Lord Robert added, "and it seems the Midlandians still won't give you any peace."

"A rebellion like I've never imagined before..."

Lord Robert snorted. "My father used to say, Every battle you survive is a good one. Victory is just the decoration on top." He paused for a moment. "And a rebellion is far worse, because you never know where or when they’ll strike. For you to survive this mess with the city intact is already an outstanding achievement."

"I'm humbled by your words," Lansius replied.

The Old Lion chuckled, then turned his gaze toward the battlefield. As a warlord with decades of experience, he knew this had been a grand and difficult fight. Despite his calmness, he was seething inside. In his eyes, Lansius had been a forgiving lord. For the Midlandians to stab him in the back made his blood boil. All his staff were equally enraged. What these rebels did was honorless and unforgivable.

Before the old man could say more, Lansius interrupted. "Pardon my curiosity, but why didn't you send hawks?"

"And burden you to prepare something special for me?" the old man laughed, stroking his graying beard. "No, my Lord Shogun. I don't want to be a pampered guest. I'm a Lowlandian. You can let me sleep in a tent, and I'd be just as comfortable. Though I admit, an inn with that springy bed is undoubtedly nicer."

Lansius chuckled again.

There was something disarming about Lord Robert that put him at ease. Perhaps it was because the Old Lion was, in many ways, like a wise senior in this business of warfare.

Like a true mentor, he played his part. "Lord Shogun," he said in a serious tone, drawing Lansius’ attention. "Let it be known that you have the support of White Lake, and likely the rest of the Lowlandian lords. What happened here demands a thorough cleansing. If I were you, I’d call Batu and unleash his brethren upon them."

"Gratitude. My House couldn't have come this far without your support."

"What I did was merely guard my realm and my friends. Nothing special or worth the praise," he downplayed his role.

Lansius was amused. "You remind me of someone."

Lord Robert raised an eyebrow. "And who would that be?"

"Lord Avery of Dawn," Lansius revealed. "If I had you two on my council, nothing would weigh so heavily."

"Then better to prepare," Lord Robert said. "While I can't speak for Lord Avery, know that I always want to assist you. But I need to know the breadth of your ambition."

Lansius frowned. "My ambition?"

The Old Lion gave him a sidelong glance and replied, "Will you, eventually, be willing to wear a crown?"

Lansius' eyes widened, and he averted his gaze, visibly uneasy.

Lord Robert had expected that and continued, "I understand you want neutrality. You want your roots to be strong before—"

"I don't want anyone's eyes on us. We already have so many threats at our door."

"Everyone understands," Lord Robert assured him. "That is, of course, prudent. But you should be mindful of your men's patience."

Lansius met the old man's wise gaze, like a student before his mentor.

"Your men and allies don't support you just for being made knights, or to secure their meals. Talented people have ambition." Fearing misunderstanding, the Old Lion quickly clarified, "Don't get me wrong, the Shogunate is brilliant for uniting Lowlandia. But you shouldn't confine yourself to act like a local power. The Imperium is no more. They did nothing during the conflicts in Arvena, Nicopola, Elandia, and now Midlandia. The capital in ruins is a solid proof. And for you and your men, it means something more vital."

Sensing Lansius' curiosity, Lord Robert revealed, "Nobody is going to hand you a higher title. What will you do then? Wait for Gottfried or Bengrieve to grant you a higher title, or worse, one of the Eastern Kingdoms? Your allies and your subjects won't like it. They chose to follow you, not to become someone else's henchmen, even in name only."

The Lion of Lowlandia ended with, "You should think on this. The time to prepare is now. The lands you hold are too vast for a mere baron. You have millions of subjects, and they need the solid bedrock of a monarchy."

***