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This is a chapter of this story that was not originally posted on patreon. I am backposting it and several others now so that the complete story can be viewed on this site. To read the complete story, check the collection link below.



Chapter 4: Dread

The Squire was in the tent with us.

"What?"

And she was not amused.

"Who's taking what from Callow now?" Then she shook her head, switching her glare to Hakram.

I admit, part of that was my intimation, that I was going to be stealing  painted stones from Callow to build my Dread Tower, but she remembered  her real reason for being upset soon enough.

I smiled to myself as she stalked forward, hand clamping down hard on  Hakram's shoulder. Even with Squire standing and Hakram seated on a camp  stool, he was taller than her by a good inch. Not that it stopped her  from trying (key word) to loom over orc.

"I told you to leave her with the prisoners."

"Apprentice wanted to talk to her." Hakram bowed his head. "I thought we could kill two birds with one stone."

"Apprentice wants a lot of things." Catherine Foundling shot a  look over her shoulder, where Apprentice was doing his best to appear  completely uninvolved in the current proceedings. "That's why I told you  to keep an eye on him."

I sighed. Really, it looked like Hakram and Apprentice were about to go  along with whatever Squire wanted, and we couldn't have that.

How about a little bit of dramatic tension?

"Catherine." I attempted not to notice how every eye in the room snapped  to me. "Your subordinates were in the middle of interrogating me. It's  rude to interrupt just because you don't like how Hakram's game treats  Callow as a resource repository for Ater to fight over."

"He what?"

Hakram coughed. I didn't even try to hide my smirk as Squire rounded on  him again. "It was from before you came to the war college," he began.  The orc's face was placid and collected as ever, but I could see the  tension in his neck. "Just a way for old cadets to spend time."

"That's not all they were spending." I reached out, spinning one of the  stones that belonged to 'Callow.' "They spend the wealth of your home,  and Callow just sits there and takes it."

Catherine, though still no doubt annoyed at me, was also Callowan. She crossed her arms.

"That's not entirely true." Apprentice leaned forward; finger raised.  "In twenty turns they'll declare a crusade, and we all lose. Oh,  assuming you actually do take a stone from them this turn."

"And that," I said. "Is the full extent of the care the Dread Empire  pays to Callow, so captured by Hakram of the Howling Wolves."

He sent me an aggrieved look. I bet he was regretting telling me his name so officiously the last time we spoke. Anything you say can and will be used against you. That held true in any world, right to be reminded of such notwithstanding.

Best they learned now.

"Come, Catherine, it is rather accurate representation of the Wasteland." Thank you, Apprentice, for baiting my trap.

"It's not an 'accurate representation' of Callow!"

All that remained was to slam it shut.

"Which was what I was going to tell Hakram," I said. "How fortunate that  we have a new player here who can make sure the rules are updated."

Catherine Foundling scoffed. "I'll deal with this little… oversight myself. You can get yourself back to where the prisoners are."

I nodded once. "So." I reached out a hand. "You're saying you don't care if I pillage Callow to build my tower."

Her hand clamped down around my wrist, and I knew I had her.

Now of course, I actually had to get out of here with my arm still attached. I hoped she'd be pulled into the game, because keeping arms had never been my strong suit.

Catherine glared at me. "Don't think I don't see what you're doing."

I raised an eyebrow. "Taking a stone from Callow?"

She shoved my hand back and sat down. "I'm doing this because I want  answers, and you're already here," she said. "Not because of Hakram's  stupid game."

"Of course," I said magnanimously.

"And how does this help Raising-towers again?"

Catherine blinked, turning towards Hakram with a disappointed expression on her face.

I nodded. "He really was trying his best with the name."

Hakram chuffed. "I came up with it when I was a child."

"And why did you keep playing this dumb game again?" Catherine  leaned forward on the table. Which coincidentally put her in a better  position to defend her rocks… "No, please, tell me. I'm sure it'll be  enlightening."

Hakram coughed. "It began as a way to pass time. Later, I was simply trying to perfect it for its own sake."

"So, you decided to break it out to interrogate the one person in the entire camp I told you both to leave alone." Catherine Foundling sighed. "Yes, amazing. Absolutely flawless."

"Actually, it was going rather well for them." I shrugged. "But to  answer your question, Hakram having someone play Callow does several  things for your game." I smiled. "Including the idea that it's better if  everyone loses, as long as that means no one wins."

Like crabs in a bucket.

At that, Hakram cracked a grin. "Because the one person who wins is Callow."

"Exactly," I said. "Isn't it fitting?"

"I do see what you're doing, you know."

I raised an eyebrow at Squire. "Oh, what am I doing?"

Her eyes narrowed at mine. I didn't imagine that I could make her look  away through some force of will, but it still made me chuckle.

She had a long way to go before she came off as 'intimidating.'

For my part, I only turned back to the game, taking a small handful of  stones from my own pouch and placing them between Catherine's pile, and  the three of us who were pretending at being lords—and one lady—of Ater.

Hakram's lips curved into a slight smirk as he realized my ploy. By  giving up my own stones, I invalidated the previous game, shifting the  entire atmosphere to one where we were talking about the game, instead  of how to win it.

I was good at making people listen, but it helped to have a prop like this.

"Between the Wasteland and… what was the name of the city again? The great fortress of Callow."

Catherine huffed. "Summerholm."

I held back a smile at her answer. Now she was invested, after all.

"Right, Summerholm. From Summerholm to Ater, there's a vast expanse of  territory that both sides fight over." I quirked my lips. "Or at least,  that they used to fight over." I turned to look at Hakram. "I'm guessing  you're not about to argue over historical accuracy."

He chuckled. "The game was invalidated by the Black Knight's conquest  long before I sat down across from someone else to play it."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Squire's face take on a complicated  expression at that. She was another young girl who'd joined the 'enemy,'  though, from her successes in the field, it didn't seem like she'd ever  intended to play double agent.

Or maybe she was just better at commitment than me.

"That's why we have games like this," I said. "To remember those  stories." Catherine jolted in her seat at my words. But what I'd said  was the truth. Back on Earth, the story was sometimes the most important  aspect of a game, as Cuff had worked so hard to convince me of back  during the Ward's bi-weekly board game nights.

That didn't change, just because the stories were suddenly more important.

"So we have this 'land,'" I said. "From the Field of Streges to the Isle  of the Blessed, that no one side can truly claim." If my sudden  knowledge of geography caught anyone by surprise, they didn't show it.  "So they start in the center. I think it makes sense that any player be  able to take a stone from this pile without asking for permission."

"It follows." Hakram pulled a thin roll of parchment and a quill from  his chest. "Though that still leaves what to do about Callow."

Catherine rolled her eyes. "Callow can hear you, Hakram."

"Of course," he said. "My apologies." After the orc finished,  presumably, scribbling out the suggested changes, he turned to look at  the Squire. "What do you think Callow should be able to do?"

"Well obviously we should be able to defend ourselves." She thumped her  fist against the table. "Summerholm threw back the Legions of Terror for  centuries, and don't get me started on the Wall."

The Wall? I frowned for a second, before the memory snapped into place from one of the books I'd read.

Daoine. The northernmost duchy of Callow, back when it was still a  kingdom. They'd built a wall in the northeast, and from atop it the  famed Daoine longbowmen reaped a toll on any army that dared spill  through their northern borders.

Of course, I was a little spotty on the geography, but one of the men from the Silver Spears had told me about them.

Before the battle at the hills and the river.

"So, should Callow be able to set up a stone to defend itself, requiring the agreement of two lords to ransack?" I suggested.

Catherine snorted. "It would take more than two piddling high lords to take the wall."

I quirked a smile. "Yes, well, if you had us draw up a map, we'd be here all night."

"I do actually want to ask some questions before sunrise."  Apprentice tilted his head. "Though this dissection of cultural history  is very interesting."

"We'll have time for questions after we finish the rules, I'm sure,  Apprentice." I patted the boy's hand once. "I wouldn't hang you out to  dry."

Catherine and Hakram glanced at me for a second, but Apprentice himself  only nodded in satisfaction. "In that case, I want to put forward a rule  for greater workings, which I feel this game is sorely lacking."

"Hey, now!" Catherine frowned. "We haven't even finished the rules for Callow, yet!"

Apprentice blinked. "You can defend yourself, what else do you want?"

Catherine growled. "How do I win, then?"

Hakram chuckled. "Presumably when we all kill ourselves, squabbling over rocks."

"Over influence, Hakram." I shook my head. "Honestly, sometimes it's like you don't want this game to be successful at all."

"I have a feeling," the orc said. "That you and I have very different ideas of success."

I quirked my lip. "That would surprise me a great deal."

Hakram sighed. "I suppose it only makes sense that Callow be able to  take stones back from the Wasteland as well then. After all, the lands  between us are 'captured.'"

"And with the crusade rule, after someone starts attacking Callow, all  they have to do is survive for twenty rounds, and then we all lose."

Catherine frowned. "What, that's it? Just hold out and we get to win?"

"I was under the impression that such was how things usually went." I rested my chin against my fist. "Before the Black Knight."

Again, Catherine's face flickered through several different emotions, before settling on a wary sort of respect.

Which, for the record, was better than I usually got.

"Think you're clever or something, huh?" she asked me.

I just chuckled. "No, I'm really not." I shook my head. "I just never learned how to quit."

"Heh. Maybe we have more in common than I thought."

I smiled. "That's what I'm afraid of." As she blinked at me, I turned to Hakram. "Would you like to distribute the stones then?"

Apprentice tilted his head. "But what about my rules for sorcery?"

Catherine sighed. "I don't think the rest of us could keep track of any of your rules, Masego."

"No really, it's quite simple." He reached out grabbing the parchment  from Hakram, and began writing out what looked like mathematical  formulas. "Any tower can contribute to an agreed upon working… oh but I  suppose Callow should be able to sabotage it as well…"

I looked towards Catherine. "Is he always like this?"

"You have no idea."

"…and then, the power of the ritual is determined by the root of  the total number of stones, unless it's a magically significant digit,  in which case…"

"What do you think, Hakram?" Catherine asked.

"It seems like we'll have to table sorcery… for the moment."

"…but Keter's Due is also factored in my destroying a number of stones based on—"

Hakram cut off the boy by placing a sack of stones in front of him. "Sounds like an elegant solution."

Apprentice's eyes sparkled behind his glasses. "Doesn't it just?"

Hakram nodded, parceling out the rest of the stones. "Write up a final  proposal and send it to me. I'll see if there's a way we can work it  into the rules."

The young man drew himself up, the rings in his braids bouncing in the firelight. "I certainly will."

"Well, then, Taylor." Hakram flashed a hint of fang at me. This one was  meant to intimidate, I was sure. "Would you like to start us off?"

I hummed, checking my pouch. Eight stones this time. Whether that meant Hakram had actually mixed up the bags this time, or made me want to think so was academic.

Well, no, I'm sure I could get into a spirited argument with Apprentice about it, but that aside, it meant I had some… leeway.

I smiled at Catherine Foundling.

The girl pulled back. "What?"

"I'd like to give you one of my stones." I held it out. "As a token of friendship."

"What."

"I mean, if you don't want it…"

She frowned at me for a moment more, before snatching it away. "Give it  here." She added it to her pile, which I noticed she'd pulled closer to  her, so she could hunch protectively over them.

She eyed me suspiciously as she did just that, placing her hands in front of the pile like the gates to her treasury.

Squire had clearly missed her true calling as a dragon.

Apprentice was already holding out a stone when I turned to look at him. "What magic did you have back in your homeland?"

I chuckled. "Come on, Apprentice. Did you think I forgot what happened last time?"

He smiled. "What was wrong with how the game played out last time?" he asked. "It seemed like a sustainable state of affairs."

"Good for you." I shrugged. "But I'm not interested right now."

Apprentice frowned. After a quick exchange with Hakram, he took one of my stones instead.

For his part, Hakram just chuckled amicably. "I suppose I'll take one from no man's land."

"Hakram." Catherine crossed her arms.

"What?"

"Those are mine."

Apprentice raised a finger. "Technically they don't belong to anyone  yet. Or, if you are speaking in the more material sense, the rocks  themselves belong to Hakram, though, why he'd attach any particular  value to them in that sense is beyond me."

Catherine continued to glare. Hakram shrugged. "It's your turn."

She grumbled, swiping a stone from no man's land. "Why am I last anyway?"

I rolled my eyes. Still, for all that she was surprisingly invested, she made no move to actually vent her displeasure on her subordinates.

I wish I could say that was expected, but given how Villains often behaved…

Well, let's just say that I was glad Catherine Foundling didn't have the same cut as one of those villains.

I handed her another stone as well, waving off her annoyed frown. That  brought me down to five. Then Apprentice and Hakram finished up emptying  out 'no man's land.'

"So," Catherine said as the turn rolled back around to her. "What if I have a question?"

"You're more than welcome to ask."

Apprentice let out a wounded noise.

Cat rolled her eyes. "I'll get to your questions about theory, Masego."  She pushed away the parchment he was waving around. "First, we need to  know if we can trust her. Weeping heavens, how do you even know she's  been telling you the truth?"

"I cast a spell." Apprentice blinked at Catherine. "Really, did you think I was just taking her answers at face value?"

I sighed. "Ever the villain, even among other villains."

Catherine Foundling's eyes narrowed. "And what makes you think you're a Villain?"

I shrugged. "Experience? I was never very good at being a hero, in any sense of the word."

She hummed, tossing me a stone. "You were a hero?"

"Not in the way you're thinking." I caught the stone, slipping it back  into my pouch, even as Apprentice kept pouting at the both of us.

Catherine whacked him on the arm. "Masego, stop that."

"But Catherine, I have so many questions, this really isn't fair!"

"I feel like we've drifted off topic from the game."

"Good!" Catherine says. "If we stop that means I win!"

She did have the most rocks at the moment, courtesy of yours truly. Hakram shook his head. "That's now how it works, Catherine."

"Why not?" She smirked at him. "I'm your boss, and that's how I say it works."

Hakram's voice was patient as ever. "That defeats the purpose of the game."

Catherine rolled her eyes, waving a hand as the next few rounds seemed  to slip by with stones trading back and forth almost at random.

Then I said, "you're wondering what the point of all of this is."

"No, really?" The petite girl cocked an eyebrow at me. "Why don't you tell me why then. Scheming types always like to talk."

"I've never been much of a scheming type." Too bullheaded to sit back  and rely on my power, even though it was all but built for it. Maybe  that's why I'd managed to make it so far.

Or maybe I'd just been incredibly lucky.

"I'm curious about you," I said, after a moment. "It's not every day a girl your age kicks off a war."

If I hadn't been looking for it, I would have missed the tensing of her  jaw, even as she leaned back on her camp stool. "I didn't start this  war. That was the 'Duke of Liesse' and his foreign backers."

So saying, she swiped a stone from Hakram, setting it a little bit aside from the rest.

"Procer and the Dread Empire aren't exactly the same," I said.

Catherine laughed. "Red the flowers," she said. "Red the crown."

I turned to Hakram, who was quickly becoming the person I looked to when  I needed an actual answer—as opposed to Apprentice, for when I wanted a  technically correct but practically useless one.

It wasn't enough to really be a foil, but it felt like a little tidbit, thrown in by a playful author.

Only time would tell if it meant anything more.

Hakram cleared his throat, and I snapped back to the present. "'Red the  Flowers' is a folk song, originating from one of the Proceran invasions  of Callow, this one ostensibly to put Princess Eleanor on the throne.  Instead, they occupied the kingdom." He took a stone from Catherine, and  while she glared, she made no move to stop him this time. "And broke it  up into new principalities."

At that Catherine Foundling smirked. "Well, they tried, at least."

I sucked on my lip, things that had been niggling at me for a while  finally snapping into place. "And so now, with the Kingdom of Callow  shattered…" I flicked the stone protecting Callow over to Apprentice.  "History repeats itself once again."

And twice as dangerous for the story behind it.

Apprentice also went to take a stone from Callow, only for Catherine to slap his hand, all but growling at him.

This time, though, it seemed there'd be a fierce guardian already waiting for the princes of Procer.

As the Exiled Prince had already well discovered.

"But…"

"In a bit."

He gave a put-upon sigh, before nodding.

And so, we went around the table again.

"Which leaves us with what?" I asked. "A Callow, with only a single  protector." The stone clicked down on the table. "As Procer tries to  claw back whatever it can from the Wasteland."

Catherine let out a bark of laughter. "You know, when you say it like that, winning almost seems possible."

I gave a smile, but I'd seen enough to know at least part of the truth.

Of course, for every answer, there was another question. Why would  someone who loved Callow so much kick it off the precipice into war? She  had the Wasteland on her side, the power, as the Black Knight's  apprentice.

The Black Knight who the legions looked to like a god, for all intents and purposes. While the High Lords and Ladies played their games half a continent away.

Why would Catherine Foundling put all of that at risk, and how could it possibly be for the good of her people? For a moment, I struggled even to wrap my head around it.

But as I passed a stone across the table to Catherine, only for Apprentice and Hakram to steal it back, I saw the answer.

Of course. What the Wasteland gave with one hand, it stole back with the other.

And so… she'd set out to change that.

I wonder if she knew that a rebellion was inevitable, or if she was just a product of indoctrination.

But no, she was a girl who loved her country so much she would hiss and  spit over a pile of stones just because they bore the same name.

She'd chosen, knowing full well that the Wasteland was the boot upon her  neck. She'd chosen them anyway, as the best chance for her people.

I could almost see it, stretching out behind her like a tapestry.

But why had she started this war?

And how, when it was the Duke of Liesse backed by Proceran gold who had rallied the land into open revolt against the Wasteland?

What was I still missing?

I blinked as the Apprentice's hand waved in front of my face, a stone  held in his hand. "You promised you'd answer my questions."

I paused for a moment, but then, out of every type of villain, the only ones that never won were oath breakers.

So I nodded, taking the stone.

"Go ahead and ask."

"Why are you so interested in Catherine?"

I turned to him, noticing that his playful demeanor had vanished.  Instead, Apprentice watched me like a scientist, examining a specimen  beneath a microscope, scalpel poised to peel back the skin.

"Why do you ask?"

He tilted his head, but this time it didn't feel like before. It didn't  feel like a harmless gesture of confusion. No, he was just looking at me  from a different angle.

Just like Apprentice and Hakram had been doing all night.

"Because you've been watching her since she came into the room."

Catherine's head whipped back and forth between the two of us. "Uh, just so you know, I'm taken."

"You're not my type," I said. "I'm not particularly fond of redheads either."

She coughed, slamming a fist into her chest half doubled over.

I turned back to the Apprentice.

"Because she reminds me of someone I know, whose story did not end  happily," I said "A woman who, for all that she fought, and all that she  won, never knew a single moment of peace from the moment she took up  her banner to the day it fell from her hands the final time." I held  back a deprecating chuckle. "I suppose, I find myself wondering why  anyone else would go down that road."

"And who was that other woman?"

"Now, now." I smiled at him. "That's two questions again."

Catherine was looking at me again now, eyes narrowed. She'd recovered rather quickly.

But then, the punchline had already landed, hadn't it? This wasn't a scene for much by the way of comic relief.

"And what have you seen, oh, simple traveler on the road?"

I chuckled. Not only was that a callback to my own story, when the  Legion had found me in the Silver Spears' camp, but how many times, in  the stories, did a seemingly defenseless traveler decide the hero's  fate?

I hoped I wasn't in one of those stories. This time, I'd like to make a difference with my own hands.

Instead of those of others.

"What do I see?" I smiled. "A story that I don't know the ending of."

With that I stood, brushing the bottom of my dress. "Now, I think that's as much as we'll manage."

Catherine sucked in her cheek, looking down at the table, with stones  scattered almost evenly between all four players. At her nod, Hakram  stood as well. "I'll escort you back to your tent."

"My thanks."

He held open the flap for me, fingers of bone curling into the canvas.  As we stepped outside, he asked me a question. "Did you manage to come  up with a name?"

I cocked an eyebrow at him, but Hakram remained as inscrutable as ever.

In the end, I just shook my head in amusement. "Isn't it obvious, if you stop to think about it for even a little bit?"

I looked back up towards the stars.

"Oh?"

We were so small, smaller even than the painted stones, passed back and  forth at a table. At one point, that thought had brought me peace. But  now, as I opened my lips, it filled me with an entirely different  emotion.

"Dread."

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