Responsibility Ch. 01

An hour or so later, the Emperor asked the prostitute if there was anything extra she'd like to have with her payment. Very modestly, the woman turned her head away and said, "There's no need to waste such kindness on this low woman."

Well, the Emperor wouldn't have that. He asked her, "Would you like to have a pet bird? I can find the most colorful, friendliest birds for you."

With a bow, the woman said, "I'd be satisfied with a humble brown bird from the wild."

Smirking, the Emperor said, "I can't speak for everyone in my homeland, but I've no desire to steal wild birds from their nests. I'll send you a darling yellow bird that was bred for companionship."

She was very thankful.

The next time the Emperor, the General, and their troop were back at the camp near Testoa, something laughable consumed most of the men's spare time. The Emperor was so amused that he sat outside his tent to sip herb flavored water and witness the bustle. Many men had recently purchased or made cages, and they were trying to capture the birds that had made nests in the tents.

The littlest page refilled the Emperor's cup, and he asked, "Your Majesty, do we lack food?"

Slowly forming a grin, the Emperor said, "No, Boy."

Setting the wooden pitcher down on a table that had been placed nearby, the tiny page put out another question. "Why are the men collecting wild birds? Their songs are beautiful, and their eggs need their mothers."

The Emperor cradled his cup on his thigh, his fingers only slightly keeping it in place. "They think the women in Kaizul are pretty, so they want to give them birds."

"It wouldn't be wise to marry those women," the little boy said with a shake of his head. His soft hair was like a trembling cloud of fire. It glittered as he moved so emphatically. "They're so far away from the mens' homes. Their families wouldn't communicate well. Only rulers should bother with that sort of thing."

The Emperor's body jolted a bit, and the water in his cup jolted with him. Then he inhaled his need to laugh.

And time went on. Occasional assaults on Testoa's fantastic wall. A few similar responses from the border guards. It was almost a stalemate, almost because the Emperor knew it was all a matter of time. He wondered about the mysterious queen there. Was she frightened? Was she angry? Did she stay up at all hours, fussing over a map with little figurines, trying to comb through her Generals' advice and her own ideas?

He still wondered about that queen the next time they visited Kaizul. He'd heard a few rumors about her. They varied. A giant blob of a woman with warts and green teeth. A tall, beautiful maiden with blood red hair. A thin monster with fairy blood in her veins and eyes like a bat's. People had even said that she was a damn bear.

The Emperor jokingly discussed the possibilities General Anisim. She might've been tall indeed, and maybe plump. The General once said she might've had a huge nose.

It was all very pleasant.

The Emperor was even lazily forming images in his mind as he rode back to the campsite. Perhaps she had curly hair the color rich soil. Maybe she had a straight, noble nose and slightly crooked teeth. Who could say? She was tucked into her castle, hidden from the Yahsin Empire.

Earthy colors were definitely blending into Irakly's thoughts as he settled back into his tent. The air was cool and tight. The nearby forest was dry, brown and orange leaves coating the ground. They'd planned another attack in a few days. Maybe one of the General's scouts would come with news about the walls protecting the river the Testoans depended on. A crack, literally or metaphorically, could be discovered.

He slept with this sort of hopeful attitude.

He woke up to noise and smoke.

An older page's voice! Get out! Get out!

The little page's fearful crying!

Dogs barking!

Men panicking!

Horses running about!

Chickens desperate to get out of their cages!

Pigs and cows following the horses!

Fire!

Everyone got out of the tent. They saw fire indeed. And so much smoke. Most of the tents were nothing more than fuel.

Go! Go!

Someone got horses for them. The dog kept up with them. The Emperor was glad to know he didn't need to get someone to look after sweet old Hrist. He was well trained indeed, and more loyal than any person the Emperor had ever known.

Some men, most of them injured, were gathered in a fairly random spot away from the campsite. The rest were doing what they could to put out the fires and mitigate the damage. Supplies and horses had to be rescued, for example. War dogs too.

Unfortunately, as time went on, it became clearer and clearer that most of the supplies were either gone or beyond any usefulness.

They had no choice but to go back to Kaizul earlier than planned.

The whole situation lowered the overall morale, at least for the average soldier.

When everyone was settled in Kaizul again, hoping for a good rest, most of the men thought of going to their favorite prostitutes, and the Emperor was no exception.

But something peculiar was going on.

None of those favorite prostitutes were around. The Emperor couldn't even find the one with pretty eyes he'd sent a bird to.

That was when the Emperor figured it out and discussed it with the General.

Spies had been sent or hired in Kaizul. They'd worked as prostitutes. They'd taken the wild birds from the Yahsin soldiers, pretending to want them as pets. Then they'd tied something flammable, likely sulfur, to the birds' legs and set them free, knowing they'd find their nests eventually.

Nests were flammable.

So were tents.

It was an insulting blow, but also an intelligent one.

As the Emperor gazed out from an inn room's window, holding a play bar of soap in his hand, he whispered something to himself.

"That queen has access to Kaizul."

***

When Yahsin conquered Kaizul, it took control of the borders too. Testoans weren't allowed to cross. Testoans were being kept inside their shell, which was a fitting way to put it.

One of the Emperor's pages laid a map onto a round table inside his tent. General Anisim tapped certain lines with his blunt fingernails. Emperor Irakly liked watching his pale brown eyes narrow and focus as he seemed to consider all the facts they had.

"They couldn't have flown," the General said. His broad nose wiggled. "Even if they'd invented some magical flying machine, we'd have seen them."

Nodding in his seat, the Emperor said, "If they walked on the ground, we'd have pounced upon them."

"Even if they took a longer, hidden route," the General said as he pointed to some symbols that represented a forest, "once they reached the border, we'd have noticed them."

Folding his great arms, Irakly asked, "What if they used false paperwork, disguised their nationality?"

Shaking his head, the General said, "The only other nationality they could reasonably claim is something from Tashkila.

If there was any empire that could rival the size, wealth, and power of Yahsin, it was Tashkila.

The Emperor smiled at the General's speculation. His throat moved with part of a vocalization, but the sound was interrupted when one of the older pages entered the tent and and bowed a short distance from the scene. His eyelids were tight as if he expected something bad to happen.

"Your Imperial Majesty," the boy said, "there's awful news from the Imperial Castle."

After taking in an impatient breath, Irakly said, "Speak."

"Her Imperial Majesty has quickly fallen ill, and died. The Empress Dowager has requested that you return home."

The Emperor's eyes closed.

He gripped one of the armrests of his chair. It was plain wood. His fingers straightened, then sharply bent. His fingernails pressed down into the wood.

He heard the scratching, but he didn't feel anything.

"Majesty! You're bleeding!"

He opened his eyes and looked down to the source of the voice. It was the tiny redhead page, gazing up at him with wide, gentle green eyes. The Emperor put his fingers closer to his own gaze and realized that he had put too much pressure on the armrest. There was a bit of pain under his nails, along with some blood.

Those bleeding fingers curled as they were placed in his lap, and he looked back to the General. "Send a diplomat to Tashkila with gifts of soap sculptures, cotton, war horses, and ice. I want to a establish a trade route with Tashkila."

"That would be interesting," the General said with a cautious tone, not meeting the Emperor's eyes, "but before I do so, I must offer my condolences."

"Fine," the Emperor said. "Give your pitiful words as quickly as you can."

***

It was cold.

And Irakly had carved and broken so many pieces of soap.

The diplomat and most of his entourage had been killed right at the closest border to Tashkila. No reason given. He'd been taken out like an invader. Why? Irakly couldn't give a reason, although he had a few inferences.

The two empires hadn't been at war for maybe a century. Whenever one empire chose a new territory to gobble up, caution was always taken not to interfere with the other empire. Don't take any bit of land that was too close to the other empire! Irakly wondered if this time he might've stomped on the line. Testoa shared a border with one of Tashkila's territories, after all.

There was always the possibility that Tashkila was purposely letting Testoan spies into their territories, giving them better mobility for espionage. Perhaps Tashkila was seeing Yahsin as a potential threat?

By the time the first batch of quiet snow fell upon the camp, Irakly had heard a piece of news that almost confirmed his suspicions.

A Tashkilan prince had been offered for an arranged marriage with the Testoan queen! Why exactly? Well, Irakly imagined that Tashkila was certainly planning on taking Testoa out right from under him! At first, it might seem like an offer of protection, and an indirect declaration of war against Yahsin, but if this marriage succeeded, then Testoan might become another Tashkilan territory.

Until they knew whether or not this arranged marriage would be successful, it wasn't wise to attack Testoa.

But the Emperor was determined to stay in the campsite, no matter how long it took.

***

"We have information on the marriage." That was what an older page told him. The Emperor was glad to have some kind of news. They'd been waiting so long that winter left and came back again. "The queen has given Tashkila a strange answer. She's written a message saying, 'I'm not able to marry at this time, but I could offer my cousin to your esteemed son.'"

That could mean anything!

But it did imply something very important.

The queen was willing to risk destroying a potential alliance with the only empire that could perhaps save her from this siege, not that Irakly would be willing to give it up. He didn't mind fighting at all.

The negotiations between Testoa and Tashkila continued for literally years, or the Emperor was told that was what happened as time went on so slowly, so agonizingly slowly. It wasn't so bad for the common soldiers. They'd be cycled out regularly. As for the General, he tended to spend half a year with the troops, and he'd go home with the Emperor's permission. Irakly liked handling things by himself when possible.

When literal combat wasn't in the plan, his way of handling things tended to involve getting drunk and playing around. The soldiers didn't have any problem with this at all. They were all technically highly prepared to shoot things and attack people, but when one's Emperor orders lots of ale, wine, and performers to come visit the camp, one knew better than to bitch.

Wrestling and play fighting. Dancers and magicians. A few prostitutes too, but the Emperor made sure to forbid his pages from going into anyone's tent while a prostitute was earning her coin. Those lessons weren't meant to be learned while still in training to be a man.

One person almost beat Irakly in an arm wrestling match. Almost. It was so impressive that Irakly rewarded him with a gold coin and another cup of wine.

Of course, regular practice and training was still done. It wasn't good to let the men turn weak. However, it was better to let them have plenty of time off, complete with revelry.

Once each year, the Emperor would make sure General Anisim was in place to monitor the drunken men and go home. Maybe two months was the average amount of time the Emperor stayed away from the camp, the place where he was having such a wonderful time.

During these years, Irakly would find messengers willing to risk their lives to try to send friendly communication to Tashkila. Success was rare.

It wasn't until his two older pages had been promoted to squires, and his little redhead page was no longer very little, when the Emperor received anything important regarding the arranged marriage.

The queen of Testoa had refused all offers of marriage with anyone from Tashkila.

That would definitely piss the Tashkilan Emperor off.

The fun at the camp was lessened to make way for more training. The Emperor knew exactly what would come soon.

And it did.

A huge troop of soldiers from Tashkila.

So now, they were technically at war with two nations, one basic kingdom and one grand empire. That grand empire was fighting over the right to have a siege style war with Testoa. Essentially, their argument was, "You're not allowed to take that because I want it! I don't care if you were here first!"

A year or so went on, battle after battle in many different locations, some so far away from Testoa that it seemed ridiculous. Perhaps Testoa was only an excuse for war. The two empires would've been more effective if they'd worked together but governments are made of people and people are often stubborn and prideful.

Eventually it was proven to be a stalemate, no progression either side. A treaty was signed. Tashkila would let Yahsin continue its siege war with Testoa, but Yahsin would agree not to try to conquer any territories past a certain point. There. Sealed and over with. No trade routes, but it was better than fighting.

Now that Irakly knew for certain that Tashkila wouldn't interfere at all, he decided it was a fine time to move the camp on to the protected river that Testoa loved so well. The walls there were likely the thickest, but if they could break through and claim the river, then Testoa could be choked into surrender.

When it was time to set up the trebuchets, the men were generally surprised to see that there weren't any retaliations being made in advance.

Or that's what they'd assumed ...

Quickly, so quickly that many men didn't understand what they'd seen, a section of the wall had seemed to pull back, then slide away.

Water did what it often did. It rushed out.

Madness!

Loud, panicked, scrambling madness!

Emperor Irakly, his pages, General Anisim, their horses, and even Hrist the dog were all able to get out alive. Wet, cold, and highly irritated, but still alive.

A good portion of the soldiers didn't make it.

The Testoans had adjusted their river's flow, and turned portions of the protective wall into adjustable dams! When in the absolute fuck had that happened?! During the war with Tashkila?!

While warming up at a campfire, Irakly considered this queen he'd never seen. Then he decided that the best thing to do was just to overwhelm Testoa with manpower at their original campsite. It was most certainly viable.

Testoa no longer had any access to international trade routes, no outside contact, thanks to the issue with Tashkila. It was all a matter of time until the queen surrendered. If not, they'd starve, economically or perhaps even literally. One bad year of poor weather and meager harvests was enough to ruin everything for them.

And in the end, it was indeed proven to be a matter of time.

***

Spring. It was a cool morning.

The farmers looked up in both fear and amazement as the army rode on with their carriages. Nobody was attacked at all, let alone pillaged. That was perceived as eerie. When the minstrels and criers announced their country's surrender to Yahsin, it was as if the whole world turned somber.

Soon, the grand and intimidating group, the rapidly moving parade, it went through cities. The urban people hid in their tall buildings and closed the shutters over their windows. Even the stray dogs seemed to notice the fear. They too hid from the army.

More villages and cities, some castles, and eventually they were at the largest castle in Testoa. It was on a fairly high cliff overlooking a large moor. The keep was a square, tall tower that was kept white and shiny. There was a wall close to the cliff's edges and stretching down to the lower earth. Inside the walls, aside from the keep, there were barracks, workshops, stables, and other vital things.

Every visible Testoan soldier and guard knelt before the Emperor when he exited the largest, most heavily armored carriage. Irakly was then escorted behind his carriage to be dressed in one of his shiniest, most expensive, least useful suits of armor. It was more for boasting than combat. The spaulders were slightly bigger than they needed to be, exaggerating his already broad shoulders. His helmet didn't have a visor, or anything else covering his self-satisfied face. It did have a flamboyant, cloud-like plume on top.

After the tall doors to the keep were opened, a great number of Yahsin soldiers and the three boys in training all escorted their ruler inside, where more Testoan guards knelt down. Through a foyer with a mosaic style floor, the group went on, only stopping when the Emperor paused to point out the pleasing color scheme of the turtles in that mosaic. They stopped again when they were in the throne room. It had a center rug of dark brown with edges of fine, golden braiding.

The person that had sat on the throne, stood up, knelt down to one knee, and lowered their head, wasn't a queen.

It was very obviously a king. A short, thin man without much of a presence, despite his finery.

Light surprise on his face, Irakly looked down to the man and said in the Testoan language, "I was told you had a queen regnant."

"Your Imperial Majesty," the kneeling king said, "that's no longer the truth. Rahela Demetra Ekatarine has abdicated the throne. She has even refused the title of princess."

"Where is she?" the Emperor calmly asked. "Where's the woman responsible for our high casualties?"

Lowering his head even more, probably hurting his neck, the king said, "I'm not certain. She might be hiding."

"Then go seek," Irakly said very crisply.

That was enough for the king to order a search for the former queen Rahela.

Emperor Irakly was offered a seat, even to sit in the throne, but he refused. He stood in place, in his fancy armor, looking down at the awkwardly kneeling king. At one moment, Irakly asked him, "How is this Rahela related to you?"

"She's my cousin," the little king replied.

"That's logical," the Emperor remarked. He looked down to his left, where the redheaded page was standing. The boy might've sensed the man's eyes, because he looked up to Irakly. His lips twitched, as if he wanted to smile, and then he looked back ahead. Irakly shrugged and said to the king. "Did your cousin appoint you?"

The king said yes.

Eventually, some guards walked into the the throne room. Two of them were on each side of a rather small woman, not too small, but small enough. Maybe five feet tall, and not very plump. Her rather emotionless face was shiny and unusually pink, as if she'd recently been through a very severe experience but wanted to be seen as calm. It was a fairly round face, though, with a fragile looking chin and a soft, upturned little nose. Irakly didn't need more than a second to understand she'd been crying and having a fit beforehand.