Avarice Secret Unquiet Ch 28

Memorials, Romance, and War

Lissa stared down at her fingers which were entwined with Renard's much larger ones. Her eyes came to rest on the solitary ring that encircled her wedding finger. A modest square cut sapphire, and three small diamonds set to each side in the white gold band. It was the heirloom engagement ring of Renard's grandmother, and now it was hers. She squeezed her man's hand tightly and he responded in kind, she knew this would be a tough day for him.

The skilled stonemason who served the village had created the most beautiful memorial from the natural stone that lay in abundance in the nearby cliffs. It had been set at the base of the great wolf's apple tree that grew just beyond the keeping room windows. That Frances could be with her family in rest. The wondrous carving was a likeness of a pretty young woman, replete with angel wings spread wide, who gazed sadly skyward, her hands folded in penitence at her breast. It was a breathtaking piece of art, and a fitting memorial to one so loved and fair.

The late spring day was beautiful, as the season fast glided into summer's harshness. The surviving lambs were fat, and the calves. The clover stood verdant and lush. Baby birds left their nests in the green leafy orchards, burdened with the promise of new fruit to begin their lives. Bees buzzed in the bright yellow marigolds.

The entire village except a few who must man the constant watch had turned out for the service, which was to be conducted by the town's preacher. Who was a very close friend of the family. There was soft music playing in the background, many of the village's musically inclined members had formed an orchestra. Lissa didn't know the tune but it was suitably appropriate for the occasion.

Many had brought bouquets of flowers, some were bright, others modest, but all were presented at the foot of the monument with love.

The preacher finally sure everyone had assembled, stepped forward to greet the crowd. The family had requested that he be the one to read the eulogy. It was going to prove too emotional for Stephan. He usually didn't shirk these kinds of responsibilities, but today he felt it was for the best. He had no desire to weep openly before his people, and he could not trust that he would not be overcome by the emotion and unable to deliver the entire speech.

Stephan, Anna, Renard, and Lissa, along with Lissa's parents and three younger siblings stood off to the side on the grassy slope, where they could take in the entire congregation.

The man of God began, his baritone voice rising above the crowd as they settled to listen. "Ladies and Gentlemen, I have something here to read penned by Frances' family." He cleared his throat and began the eulogy. "We gather here today to remember, to mourn, and to celebrate the life of Frances, a life that was cut tragically short, but a life that was lived to the absolute fullest."

"Frances was a beautiful and courageous young woman who embraced life with open arms, who drank deeply from the cup of experience, who believed in making each moment count. Her life was not a slow march, but a spirited dance, a vibrant symphony, a beautiful tapestry of vivid colors and rich textures."

The priest paused for effect and continued.

"Frances had an insatiable curiosity for the world around her, and a great love and compassion for others. She was a voracious reader, a keen observer, a thoughtful questioner. She believed that every day was a chance to learn, to grow, to evolve. Her mind was not just a repository of knowledge, but a fertile field of ideas, a wellspring of wisdom, a beacon of enlightenment."

"Her family recalled one summer, Frances decided to learn how to play the cello. She practiced day and night, her fingers strumming the strings, her voice humming the tunes. Within a few weeks, she was not just playing the cello, she was creating music. Her melodies were not just notes, but stories, emotions, expressions. Her music was not just a hobby, it was a passion, a form of self-expression, a celebration of life."

"Frances also had a deep love for nature. She often said, "Nature is the greatest teacher. It teaches us about life, about resilience, about beauty." She would spend hours just out here in the fields, exploring the trails, admiring the flora, observing the fauna. Her love for nature was not just a pastime, it was a philosophy, a way of life."

"But what made Frances truly extraordinary was her indomitable spirit, her unyielding courage, her unflagging optimism, and her exemplary sacrifice. She believed in a better tomorrow, even in the face of adversity, she remained hopeful, resilient, positive. Her spirit was not just an inspiration, it was a force, a beacon, a guiding light to us all."

"As we bid farewell to Frances today, we are not just mourning her absence from our lives, but celebrating her life, her spirit, her legacy. We are celebrating a life that was lived to the fullest, a spirit that was indomitable, a legacy that is timeless."

The crowd was plainly moved by the eulogy. Many wept, others smiled sadly, all remembering the brave sacrifice the young woman had made and what a kind and wonderful person she was.

The impromptu orchestra was about to resume but fell to respectful silence as Stephan left his place among family to walk to the monument. He turned to face the beautiful statue, looking up at the pretty angel with sad eyes before placing the little beaded bracelet into the alcove that had been carved for this purpose. He bowed his head in silence for some moments and closed his teary eyes.

I love you, my daughter, you will be forever in my heart.

He then turned after composing himself and stood and faced his people, leaning heavily on his cane. He looked out at them, they were each and everyone, his family, the reason he woke every day, and strove so hard for a better world.

He fought his unruly emotions down, coughed, and then began to speak. "Although this day is a somber occasion and we grieve for a beautiful woman taken so tragically in the prime of her life, it is also a day of happiness for my family. We may have lost a daughter, yet today we gain a new one." The old man turned to gesture to Lissa, who stood hand in hand with Renard. Lissa looked up at Renard for some moments, confused at what was required of her. There had been nothing said about this announcement prior. Renard smiled and urged her to go forward and stand alongside his father. Lissa did so shyly, her face flushed the hue of her abundant hair at becoming the center of attention.

"I welcome to my family my brave, and dearest daughter Lissa Bateman'" Stephan announced proudly.

The assembled crowd broke into cheers and a round of hearty clapping, some of Renard's friends called out affectionate jibes from the crowd. Bryn and his men could be heard clearly.

"The happy couple plan to wed at the next solstice, and they have my blessing."

Lissa smiled happily at the surprise announcement. She already knew they planned to wed at the summer solstice, but with everything else that was happening, and being under the constant threat of war, she was not expecting the formal announcement today. It came as a happy surprise to what otherwise would have been a very sad occasion.

The wise old Stephan had realized this, which is why he had concluded the somber occasion with this happy announcement. Times were tough, and he had to continue finding hope for both himself and his people.

*****

While the dead and their memory were laid to rest, the wheels of war were turning. The columns of black-clad soldiers filed out of the fortress leaving only a skeleton force behind. The fortress was by its thoughtful design almost impenetrable. It could be held successfully for months by only a handful of men. That was its purpose when it was originally founded by Lothar all those long years before, even before the war. He had never expected the population to swell to the number it was today, or have this many armed men at his disposal. They had already procrastinated on this assault as long as they dared, and it well may already be too late to get that canola planted. Summer was biting at their heels.

The gate shut behind Lothar's force with a dull thud. The horse formed up, the lines of foot soldiers behind them, and lastly the carts of supplies and armaments, and the camp followers that would be needed to sustain the attack. A couple of scouts rode in the lead.

Lothar's retinue traveled behind the main body of his force. The crippled War Lord in a glistening, highly lacquered black sulky, that had been specially constructed by his master craftsmen to bear him to the war camp. This was one of the main reasons for the delay in the offensive, as the proud leader could no longer sit astride a horse. Lothar was not happy about this mode of transport, however it was better than being left behind. The journey though was painful for the man, the buffeting and jostling about in the horse-drawn vehicle caused him great discomfort. Yet he would bear it with stoicism, he would see with his own eyes, not through the words of others, this war won.

Victor rode his midnight stallion, with the flowing mane and tail beside his Lord's transportation. The stunning animal moved fluidly, and held its great head in a proud arch, snorting as its hooves struck the soft sand. It seemed as eager for war as Lothar and Victor were.

Yet anyone who could have peered inside of Victor's mind at this moment would have seen an entirely different picture. Though Victor understood war was the vehicle toward personal profit and greatness, he wished he did not have to attend this mission. He simply longed to be in his quarters with his slave girl, enjoying her simple gifts. She had listened to his plans stoically on the eve of his departure. There was not a tear in her eye, or sadness in her voice, though he was sure that she dreaded the isolation she must endure until his return. She had ample supplies to last for many months, though he was confident the war would be long concluded before that time.

Accompanying the two high-ranking men was also a small body of very capable house guard, who were likewise mounted.

The plans had been made. Many were the recent nights spent by candlelight pawing over carefully drawn maps and listening to scouts' reports, and they were ready. They would not attempt to approach Stephan's farmland via the deep gully this time, for the risk of ambush was too great. Besides, the rocky terrain provided a terrible location for a sustained camp, nor was there free access to water. Instead, they had elected to take the longer route and set their base on the opposite side of the river behind the settlement. The area had been covertly scouted in the previous months and a good position had been selected, where the river was easiest to ford.

Lothar and his men had debated for many hours whether fording this river would be detrimental to their forces or not. Yet none present at these nighttime meetings could see any other way. They would be at their most vulnerable when crossing the waterway, unfortunately. It really depended on whether Stephan's men would send out fighters from their palisade walls once they attempted to cross or not. That was an unknown.

Lothar enjoyed this low-tech warfare. In spite of his aching body that often refused to obey, this made him feel like a young boy again. As a youth, he was deeply interested in historical conflicts and had read numerous volumes on the accounts of many famous battles. He avidly explored the merits and disadvantages of strategies, never expecting he would need to use them in his lifetime. Now the time had come for him to prove himself, just as his heroes of legend did all those centuries ago. The people of the farmlands would bow to his wishes, and the natural order would be restored. The fortress would again function at full capacity, and vengeance would be his.

As the column marched, Lothar to ease his physical discomfort lost himself in these thoughts. He debated what shape his vengeance would take once his victory was complete. Perhaps he would enslave Stephan's remaining family or even execute the old leader for his impudence as an example to all. One hundred and one possible scenarios played in his head and Lothar found he enjoyed them all.

*****

The black column moved slowly, winding its way through the desert. To the peregrine falcon that soared high above the soldiers appeared as an industrious trail of black ants. The force skirted wide the lush lands they knew lay just beyond their view. They did not wish to be sighted by the enemy whilst in transit they hoped to only be noticed after they had erected camp.

To that end, they approached the chosen site by darkness, with strict orders for stealth and no use of light. They had rehearsed this maneuver over and over, and the men knew what to do. They hoped that by dawn they would be at last seen by their quarry. Creating a feeling of dread as they sat fully encamped waiting to attack. Lothar after all knew that a large part of winning a war was to demoralize and frighten one's enemy.

They approached the designated site by thin starlight, there was no moon in the sky. The topography of this place was flat and sandy, with a gentle slope that ran down to the usually shallow river. The riverbed appeared sandy and firm, though the water was unusually high. It would need to recede before a crossing was feasible. There was abundant grazing behind them for the beasts, and plenty of dry lumber to be harvested. His scouts had chosen well, they would be comfortable here and well-provisioned. Men were sent to watch at strategic positions for any possible scouts or attacks, with orders to kill on sight.

Lothar, Victor, Captain Greyson, and Major Hawkins were all of a similar mind, agreeing in concert that this assault should not be one of a great duration. Their enemy would be outgunned even if they were not outnumbered.

The steel gray-haired leader gazed out into the darkness to see the faint lights of his enemy, one he would engage very soon. He sat in front of his newly erected tent in his wheelchair in silence pondering the fast fading night. Dawn would arrive shortly and with it the realization that Lothar had come to collect.

*****

Renard had been sleeping most soundly, but something had awoken him. He opened his eyes and realized that it was barely light outside. He wondered briefly what had disturbed him so and made to turn over and close his eyes again, thinking to just take another thirty minutes or so of slumber before he went down for breakfast. There was he noted a lot of noise in the household and outside, most unusual for this hour.

Then came a sharp knock at his door.

"Who is it?" Renard questioned sleepily, wishing it would wait.

"We've got trouble." It was the well known voice of none other than his friend Dale. A man who he viewed almost as a brother.

"Come in. What is it?"

The door creaked open and the tall and very angular Dale entered. Renard roused himself from his bed and pulled on his clothes as he spoke. "What's happened?"

"He's here across the river. They set up camp in the night. The watchers didn't notice them until some moments ago, as of now we are on full war footing."

Renard clumsily pulled on his trousers and boots, followed by his shirt and suede jacket, and sighed, and in a downbeat tone he said, "that's it then, we are at war."

Dale nodded, his features stern.

Both men left the room together and headed to the main room.

On the way the two men looked out from a second-story, eastern window in the homestead, and at once they could see what all the fuss was about. They could plainly view the dark cluster of tents in the distance and the smoke of cooking fires spiraling lazily into the fast-lightening sky.

"Looks to be a fair number of them unfortunately." Grim was Renard's tone.

"Aye," Dale answered."They are not really sure of numbers yet, we have scouts out though."

*****

Already many of the division commanders were filing into the great hall and being seated at the long banquet table. Yet today it was empty of a spread. Many looked up and acknowledged Renard as he sat toward the end of the table, where his father and mother would also take their places shortly.

He smiled at Lissa though his mood was dark, as she came through the crowd towards him. Today she wore a shade of dark emerald setting off the magnificence of her glorious auburn curls. Renard again rose, he smiled, kissed her lightly on the cheek, and pulled out her chair waiting for her to be seated. Her cheeks were flushed with high color, and he could tell she was very much afraid. He pat her affectionately on the back as she sat, and Lissa looked up at him her expressive brown eyes mired in love. He kissed her once more on the forehead. "It will be alright," he mouthed softly. Doing his best to reassure his sweetheart.

All rose from their places with respect as Stephan and Anna entered the hall. The congregation waited patiently for the old man to be seated before they all resumed their places at the table. Drinks and some fresh bread were brought by the bevy of efficient house staff and served.

Stephan wasted no time getting down to business. He had no idea how long his enemy would wait, they must be ready. "As you all well know we are at war. The Wolf Lord is now encamped across the river. It appeared he arrived some time during the night. At this time we are trying to glean as much intelligence as we can, but that will take patience and time. I do not want my scouts taking undue risks with their safety."

All assembled nodded and murmured in agreement.

Stephan took a sip from the goblet of watered wine before him and continued. "I hope all the commanders of every division are clear about their orders, if there are any questions, now is the time to speak up." The white-haired leader gazed about the room taking in all assembled, his hands resting on the shining table top lending him support. He was so grateful for the presence of his son, and the war knowledge that men such as Bryn Frazer had brought to his council.

Before the war he had simply been a school counselor, he knew nothing about battle or how to stage the best defense of a town. For so many years Stephan had ruled well with compassion and love, those traits were his strong suit, and he was very good at mediation. However, there were times when he felt overwhelmed by his responsibilities, and today was one such day. He had been planning and directing this defense for months, and he still didn't know if it was actually possible to defend such a difficult site. However, they had little choice, there was so much at stake.

"I take it then as no one has stepped forward, there are no questions and we can move on to the strategy?"

All in attendance nodded in the affirmative. Stephan was bolstered by his people's calm confidence.

"Now that we know our enemy is not going to just attempt to ride into our midst and make demands, but instead set camp and possibly enter into a protracted war, we have to decide the best strategy for attack and defense of our settlement. The walls we have built will be essential to our defenses, we cannot afford to have them breached at any cost. Do we have all in readiness on the walls?"

One of Bryn Frazer's men stood, it was the white-headed Tobias, who was an exceptional archer, and for that reason, he had been placed to direct the wall defense.

"Everything and everyone is in readiness Sir, we have plenty of arrows, the archers, and riflemen have trained well, there are volumes of projectiles, a reasonable supply of bullets, every suitable container has been transformed into a Molotov cocktail, and all on the wall defenses are ready and know what to do. The east wall will possibly see the worst of it, but we are ready."