RFC-Miniarc-Capital in Crisis 12 (Patreon)

A young man entered the room. His hair was not quite the white of the royal family, more of a bright silver, too bright to be mistaken for a sign of premature aging and just as eye-catching. His light skin was tanned from many hours training under a strong sun, taking advantage of the powerful physique inherited from his father. His light brown eyes swept the room before he bowed to his father. “Father. Sir Quintana.”

“Dowager.”

“Your Highness.”

“Then? How went relations with the elf?” He frowned at the knight’s grimace. “Not well, I take it.”

“We hoped for better but the matter has been laid to rest,” Sebastian said. “I called you to discuss something else.” He undid the tie on a rolled-up piece of parchment, showing a vague map of the kingdom. He waved for them to join him. “I’ve decided to accept your proposal to lead the forces intercepting the hordes of Green Mountain.”

Dowager grinned, slamming a fist into his hand. “You won’t regret this, Father.”

“I’m sure I won’t. Reis has agreed to accompany you.”

The smile wilted. “I do not need a nanny.”

“Then it’s a good thing one isn’t coming,” Sir Quintana scoffed. “I won’t be there to wipe your ass. The less I do, the better. From what the Guiness have been saying, these are nothing but foot soldiers. You don’t need me for that and I’m too old to show off.”

Some of the tension in the prince’s shoulders eased. “Fine by me. We’ll teach these monsters to stay off our continent.”

“Don’t put too much stock in the merchant’s words,” the king cautioned. “We are still not sure of his loyalties.”

“Surely he would not sell the kingdom to another race.”

“Enough gold can sway any man’s heart and it has been a long time since the Great War. We are no longer the same united people under the First King.” He shook his head. “I can only blame myself for not having eyes on their expeditions. The man is exceedingly thorough in vetting his employees and ruthless to traitors.” He sighed. “If he can be believed, the invaders will come by the southeast shore.” He stabbed at a place on the map.

“The wetlands?” Dowager questioned, leaning forward. “That isn’t a good place to moor boats, is it?”

“Who knows? And the good marquis conveniently is ignorant as to their vessels and strategies.”

“He doesn’t know the vessels of his trading partners?” the prince asked slowly.

“Now you understand my hesitance to trust the good merchant,” his father said dryly.

Sir Quintana made a thoughtful noise. “I’ve been there for a subjugation. Terrible place. Marching through the thick mud is more tiring than the fight itself and the damp will kill you before anything else. If you have the option, you don’t want to fight them there.”

“Then what do you suggest?” Dowager asked. “We can’t let them push into the continent. They won’t get far but who knows what damage they can do.”

“Those aren’t the only options. If you can’t fight them on land, fight them on the water.”

The prince scowled. “The army is useless on the ocean.”

“You want to enlist the city of Graywatch,” the king said.

“The pirates and cutthroats? They have no place in the defense of the kingdom.”

“They’re the best sailors on the continent and they’ve got experience in sea battles,” the knight argued. “I wouldn’t trust any man from that place to hold my loose change but they honor their contracts. Oathbreakers don’t live long.”

“How will they reach the east?” the king asked. “The Enchanted Forest blocks the way between us and the elves. They can’t sail north. The lords of the north freeze the waters surrounding their land. Nothing has ever come back from that way.”

“If we’re quick about it, we can bring their boats across land.”

The king barked out a laugh. “You expect a grayman to let someone take control of his ship? They’d sooner slap their mothers.”

“Pay them more.”

“Do you mean to bankrupt the crown?”

“Guiness is footing the bill for this, are they not?”

“Yes, and he will have a small army at his beck and call. As if the man isn’t hard enough to deal with. You’re deluding yourself if you think the grays will obediently go back to their city after the fighting is done. They’ll terrorize the coastal towns, spreading their infection. Probably at the Guiness bastard’s request. Then he’ll find some way to blame it on me. No.”

“We don’t need pirates. Can you imagine the chaos if they decide to turn on us?” Dowager scoffed. “We can fight in the wetlands. If there is water, we use water casters.”

Sir Quintana shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re getting into.”

“I agree with my son. Perhaps it is better to fight the goblinoids on the sea but that would only be if we had crews we trusted to sail the ships. Secure the coast, draft some local villagers to survey the land and help the soldiers acclimate.”

The knight scoffed.

“I know you think this is a mistake, Reis, but—"

“I will abide the decisions made by the crown. I still suggest you let me contact of few members of Graywatch, those I can trust to keep their contracts. They still have the best water casters outside the Guiness Company and the Hall.”

“There’s an idea,” Dowager said, eyes bright with excitement. “Why not call on the Grand Hall? Wind casters can be just as effective on the sea.”

His father grimaced. “Our relations with the Hall are tense at the moment.”

“Ah. Because of my cousin.”

“It is not just about Sebas. There were also the matters of Samuel and the Pottoculli boy.” The king massaged his temples. “The nobles are clamoring that I’ve been too lenient with Dunwayne and the Harvest Hero is understandably upset with the trouble in his school. Asking him for a favor now would be unwise.”

“Why?” the prince asked, brows furrowed.

“Because of how much Dunwayne can ask for in return,” Sir Quintana said with distaste. He had no love for the political maneuverings of those in power but he understood them. “Worse, it’ll make your father seem weak. People are scared.” Scared enough to call into question honorable knights like himself. “Scared people do stupid things.”

“And if they think I am too weak to control them, all sorts of devious agendas will be pushed forward,” Sebastian continued. “We need to handle this and we need to do it by ourselves.”

Dowager held his chin as he thought. “Can we at least reach out to the hunter guilds? I’m sure there is at least one that has experience with the area and its dangers.”

“Good idea,” the knight said, nodding in approval. He would have suggested it next if the prince hadn’t.

“Hiring them as advisers is acceptable. Minimize their presence. This must be a victory for the royal army and the crown.”

“What about the royal knights?” Sir Quintana asked. “A few more trump cards will be good.”

“No. People will notice their absence. They are meant to protect the palace. If they depart, people will either think I am overestimating the threat and call me a coward or they will think the invasion is a threat necessitating our strongest fighters and panic.”

As a former soldier, Sir Quintana could only be disgusted that so many considerations were limiting the king’s decisions. They were talking about the defense of the kingdom and the lives of its citizens. Their enemies should be crushed with their full force, damn the consequences or appearances.

“What about Robert?” Dowager grinned. “What is my martial brother doing? The next few months should be time off from his studies. A good time to get him bloodied.”

And what would you know about it? Sir Quintana cared for the prince, to the point he’d might consider him an apprentice, but he certainly had his own brand of arrogance. Or perhaps a misplaced eagerness. He very much believed the prince had romanticized war and hoped he would recover from those delusions before they got him into serious trouble.

“I agree he needs a little more experience. That is why I’m sending him to the Bleak Peaks.”