Chapter 308

  Till the Blade Chips

  Canardia Castle

  Lady Felicity’s sudden arrival and her immediate labor had become the center of attention. The midwife, who had not been expecting a call, was escorted in haste to the guest chamber where the Lady would give birth. There, Chamberlain Ingrid took charge alongside the castle physician on duty and Petra, the Dawn’s rogue Saint Candidate. Other ladies such as Astrid, Ella, and Tanya waited outside. Only Eleanor was away on a visit.

  As the labor progressed well after sundown, the lantern-lit corridors outside the birthing room hummed with rushed footsteps, hushed voices, and the muted clatter of basins and linens being fetched. The air was tense, filled with dread, but also hope.

  For the young ladies, while this was not their first time witnessing such a moment, it was still a nervous affair. Both had grown, and Tanya had even technically married, so they carried a great deal of curiosity. Lady Astrid, who had recently given birth to her own daughter several months ago, answered and comforted them with assurances that it was not as terrible as it sounded.

  She gently remarked that if the mother were healthy, the process would always end safely. "From my great-grandmother’s line, no woman in my family ever had serious problems in childbirth."

  "But it has taken quite some time," Tanya muttered. Much longer than when she assisted with Gilly’s birth.

  Hearing that, the red-haired Lady Ella said, "I heard it is normal for the first child to take a long time. Do you think it is true?" Her innocent gaze fell upon Lady Astrid.

  "Indeed. But even when it is long, not all of it is painful, only discomfort while waiting for the baby to be ready to come out. The pain is usually in the last hour or so when you have to push, though it can differ greatly from one woman to another."

  The two took that knowledge to heart.

  Lady Ella then said, "I am not sure if it is true, but I heard that if the mother is physically strong, it makes the birth easier. What do you think?"

  "Well..." Lady Astrid pondered. "I did ride horses a lot, and they said I had good stamina."

  Lady Ella nodded slowly, lost in thought.

  "Perhaps I can also vouch for that," Lady Tanya added, drawing their attention to her. "Lady Audrey's labor was rather quick. And she is probably the fittest woman in this castle aside from Francisca."

  Lady Ella nodded again. "I really think I will need to add some training regimen to my schedule."

  "Horse riding is good," Lady Astrid suggested.

  The two young ladies had many other questions, and as their senior, Lady Astrid was delighted to answer them while they waited for the heir of Arvena to be born.

  ...

  Lansius

  While everyone was occupied by the unexpected labor, Lansius stood in the training hall. Audrey was by his side, checking that he wore his ringmail correctly, and then they took turns ensuring each other’s armor was fastened as it should be. The air was calm, quiet, and peaceful.

  Only the two of them were inside, the hall lit by two chandeliers. Their small entourage, a lady-in-waiting, a servant, and a maid, waited outside.

  Unlike the training hall in Korelia, which any retainer could use, the one in Canardia was a private space beside the armoury, intended for the Lord or his family to practice the sword. The polished boards bore old cuts and dents, scars from long-ago drills.

  The narrow window was open, letting the night breeze drift inside. It was two hours after supper.

  Audrey had visited Felis earlier. Despite her earlier progress, the labor had stalled.

  "The midwife says it will be around midnight, but hopefully not until early morning," Audrey said, trying to hide her concern.

  Lansius only gave a brief nod, his eyes unfocused. He knew well that a natural birth could stretch through an entire day even after the strong contractions began. The duration depended on the baby's size, the position, and the mother's strength to push. Yet if it dragged on for too long, the danger grew sharply, and there was little anyone could do in such circumstances.

  Perhaps this was one of many reasons why Lansius unconsciously chose Audrey. Unlike most noble ladies who had never known hardship, she carried an abundance of strength and vitality.

  He simply did not have the heart to lose the one he loved most in childbirth.

  Seeing the tension and anxiety in Lansius' face, Audrey said, "Do not fear for her. Felis is strong. She will scream and wail, but she will bear the baby and then want more."

  Lansius snorted, his shoulders shaking as he shook his head. "That is crazy talk."

  "She is," Audrey replied with a playful smirk. "And I know my friend better than you."

  "Hey, I met her first before you did," he reminded her.

  "Just her fortune," Audrey said as she took a helmet from the bench. "Finding a future powerful lord by bumping into one on the road."

  Lansius shrugged. It was strange, but with Felis, everything was possible.

  Audrey handed him the houndskull helmet, and Lansius checked it carefully, running his fingers over the outside for cracks or dents, then inspecting the inside to ensure the padding was sound and set in the correct place.

  Then the two checked the blunt training dagger. They were using a parrying dagger rather than rondel, since the latter was essentially a sharp chisel that could pierce ringmail too easily, and besides, they seldom carried a rondel dagger outside of battle.

  “No rust,” Audrey muttered, then gazed at him, several training daggers tucked at her belt. “Are you ready?”

  He nodded. "Ready."

  "You already know the basics. I will approach from high, middle, and low. Left, center, or right, you always block and deflect from the inside. With your off hand, try to strike my wrist and disarm the dagger, or seize it and force my grip to break."

  "Got it."

  Audrey stepped in slowly, her movements controlled, quick but not rushed.

  The first strike came high. Using an icepick grip, she drove in from her right, angling toward his collarbone. Lansius raised his dagger and made contact. A dull clack rang out as the blades met, and his left hand swept in at once for her wrist.

  But his force wasn't enough. He also failed to catch her wrist as the ringmail sleeve extending to it made the surface slick. The dagger stayed firm in her hand.

  "You need more force to disarm, or more finesse to catch my wrist," Audrey said as she stepped back into her starting position. "Again."

  They went through it once more. Audrey did not change her attack angle, and this time, Lansius managed to sweep hard enough that the impact knocked the dagger from her hand.

  “Good,” Audrey said amid the clanking sound of the dagger striking the floor. She pulled a different dagger from her belt. “Again.”

  She shifted her stance and came in at the middle. Lansius blocked from the inside, and the impact jolted up his arm, but his off hand was still able to sweep in from the outside. The dagger was thrown aside, skidding across the polished wooden floor.

  "Good instinct," she said, then returned to her starting position. "Again."

  They repeated the drill with variations in the attack angle. After a while, they reset without speaking, pausing only to retrieve the spent daggers. Slowly, their scent mingled with the familiar smells of the old hall: oiled leather, seasoned wood, and chalked grips.

  They went through it again and again. Middle left. High left. Low right.

  Lansius’ movements slowly became precise and smooth, and Audrey turned up the tempo, faster and with more strength. Gradually, his hesitation faded. His blocks came cleaner, and his disarms grew accurate and forceful.

  After many rounds of repetition, she picked up the blades, then set them down on the bench and said, "It is time to spar."

  "Wait, that is all with the theory?" He frowned, sweat dripping from his brow.

  "Yes. What else do you want to know?" She poured drinks into a wooden cup.

  "Well..." he muttered, uncertain.

  Audrey handed him a cup, and while he drank, she said, "In dagger fighting, things happen so fast that you often do not have time to draw your blade. In such situations, block with your hands as best as you can."

  Lansius finished his drink, cooled boiled water as was usual, and set the cup on the bench. He turned to her and said, "I have not seen you drink."

  Audrey gave him a faint grin. "This is not even a warm-up for me."

  Lansius returned to his starting position.

  "What you must remember is that they will try to tackle you to the ground and go into a frenzy, stabbing you again and again until you are dead. Avoid that by keeping your footwork quick and strong." She paused, then asked, "Do you understand what I am saying?"

  "Yes," he replied.

  "Let’s try."

  The moment the words left her mouth, she bolted forward. Her body moved in a blur as she crossed the distance in a single breath. Lansius reacted, but his block came too slow. Her training dagger struck his chest as she deflected his arm and drove into him. The impact carried them both down. Lansius hit the floor, his helmet landing with a dull thuck, while Audrey stayed on top of him.

  As if her move meant little, she spoke without losing her breath. "Your footwork is not fast or strong enough. Remember, you must avoid this position. From here, your assailant can stab you like this."

  She demonstrated the motion, playfully stabbing him in quick succession. The blows felt more like sharp pokes across his body than real strikes.

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  Lansius took several shallow breaths, still reeling from the fall.

  "Do not just gawk. Use your hands and try to deflect the attack. Try to disarm. He will not stop if you do nothing."

  "It tickles," Lansius complained as her poking came too fast to track.

  Instead, she sped up, poking him even faster until Lansius burst into laughter. Audrey then rose and helped him to his feet with ease. Lansius had gained some mass, and the ringmail was certainly heavy, yet she pulled him up as if he were little more than a training doll.

  "Now we will spar," she declared. "I will defend myself, and you will try to score a hit, disarm me, or take me to the ground."

  Lansius, sweat flowing beneath the ringmail, took his stance and began his approach. Without hesitation, he launched a straight thrust. Audrey deflected it, but Lansius’ quick footwork allowed him to follow up at once, forcing her to step back on the defensive. The sharp clink of metal echoed through the hall as they traded blows.

  He tried to grapple several times, but she slipped away each time. Her footwork was fast enough to carry her clear of his reach.

  "Not enough. Too slow. Do not attack blindly. Focus," she instructed, without a trace of weariness.

  His arms aching, Lansius finally stopped after what felt like a hundred tries. He needed a drink.

  Audrey also stopped for water. Both removed their helmets.

  "You are fast," Lansius said between breaths. "Where did you learn all this?"

  "We always had trainers. First in Toruna, then in Korelia. Unlike you, My Lord, a squire like me had to train constantly just to stay relevant."

  "Nonsense," Lansius said with a snort.

  Audrey set her empty cup aside and returned to the center of the hall. "Come. You are getting better. Do not give up just because you are a little tired."

  Lansius drew a long breath and stepped forward to face her again. The sharp clink of metal against metal rang out as they resumed sparring. The strikes came quicker now, both free to attack or defend. Even when Lansius made a fatal mistake and was struck, Audrey merely stepped back, and they returned to the exchange at once. More than anything, she wanted him to gain experience.

  They trained for several intense minutes. Audrey took him to the ground more than once. There was little instruction, only repetition, forcing Lansius to learn by instinct. To grow accustomed to the speed of a dagger fight, to recognize possible attack patterns, and to build muscle memory.

  Then Lansius noticed it. Something stirred within her. Something she kept carefully restrained. Her lunges and strikes became a little stronger, effortless, deadly.

  It was subtle, but Lansius was too perceptive to miss it.

  On the outside, Audrey was the perfect companion. Always helpful. Supportive. Kind. Yet she possessed another side. A fierce one. One she had likely gained during her years under her knight master. Or perhaps it came from something else entirely. One did not survive a harsh medieval life, losing parents at an early age, being sold as a servant, then trained to face monsters, without becoming a little broken in the head.

  Audrey suppressed it daily. Nothing ever surfaced. Having mastered her gaze, not even the castle staff in Canardia were aware of her unusual eyes. Yet here, in training, and only against him, that other side pressed forward, like frustration held back too long, seeking release.

  Dodging her last sharp slash and taking a wide step back, Lansius’ lips moved before he realized it. "Let it out."

  His muffled voice from behind the helmet made Audrey pause.

  "Let it out," Lansius said again. "I know you have pent-up frustration. Come at me."

  She still paused, settling into her stance.

  "This is what you want, is it not?" he asked. "I know why there is nobody here. Not a physician’s assistant to tend injuries, not Carla or Margo to bring water."

  Lansius planted his foot hard and lifted his left hand, drawing his fingers inward in a gesture that dared her to come at him. "Give it to me. The part of you only I can handle."

  Audrey smiled. Even without seeing, Lansius instinctvely knew her eyes had turned golden.

  She calmly reached up, gripped the side of her helmet, unlatched it, and hurled it aside. It struck the floor and rolled across the polished wood with a heavy crash. Lansius did not care for the sound. Through the narrow slits of his visor, his gaze locked onto her eyes, now glowing with a golden intensity far stronger than he had ever seen.

  "Husband," she said as she walked toward him at an unhurried pace. "Are you certain you wish to see that part of me? I am quite shy, you know."

  The hair along Lansius’ arms stood on end. Every instinct screamed that pain was approaching, yet he answered boldly, “Come to papa.”

  She stopped. Her face lit up with wild excitement. Then she laughed.

  It was an unrestrained laugh, sharp and wild, a sound that sent a chill through him.

  Suddenly, the air felt thick, and darkness assaulted his vision, turning everything black and white.

  Guhh...

  There was no warning. Like a charging half-breed, Audrey leaped forward. Lansius swung his dagger hard, putting his full weight and strength behind the strike, but she was too fast. Her left hand snapped out, blocking his wrist mid-swing. Her smiling, half-grinning face filled his vision as they collided.

  The impact knocked the air from his lungs. Before he knew it, he was falling backward, skidding across the wooden floor.

  Despite her feminine build, there was tremendous force behind the blow.

  Still reeling from the fall, barely able to draw breath, a sharp thudding sound struck near his left ear. He knew by instinct it was Audrey’s dagger, slammed into the wooden floor beside his head.

  He breathed hard as Audrey unlatched his helmet and pulled it free, letting it roll to his side.

  "Are you all right?" she asked, a teasing smile on her lips.

  "How could I ever love another but you?" Lansius said, forcing a smirk.

  Audrey giggled as she pulled him up.

  He readied his stance again. Only he could face her at this level. The eyes that burned other people’s nerves merely darkened his vision and left no lasting damage. Perhaps he had developed some measure of resistance to it.

  Audrey let out a bitter sigh. "I appreciate that you want to match my strength, but you will be in great pain."

  Lansius scoffed. "What rubbish you speak." He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, his pupils held a faint sheen of gold. Vigor surged through him as he lifted his chin and challenged her. "Come, wife. Let us dance to our hearts’ content."

  At that, Audrey grinned in earnest, like a child offered a jar of honey.

  "Husband, you're so going to die." It was both a warning and a taunt.

  "Not a bad way to go, if it is in your soft embrace," Lansius said, and then, against all reason, he walked toward her, dagger held low at his side, wide open.

  Now Audrey looked at Lansius like a girl staring at her first crush, and in the next heartbeat she charged, feral and utterly unrestrained. Neither of them wore a helmet anymore. They did not care. They fought like two mage knights unleashed.

  The gemstone Lansius used now had a larger pool of power to draw from. Moreover, he had grown used to it, attuned enough to use it for a longer period of time.

  From within the hall came the sharp clash of metal, muffled shouts, and the heavy thud of bodies colliding. The sounds carried down the corridor, but no one dared to enter. Their entourage only whispered among themselves, glancing nervously at the sealed door.

  The sparring ended in less than half an hour.

  For the staff assigned to the training hall, their work had only begun.

  Those who entered afterward were left in utter shock. The hall did not need cleaning. It needed renovation. The destruction looked as though an army had trained there with complete disregard for restraint. Blade scars gouged the floorboards. Several shields lay broken. Planks had been torn loose as if struck by a hammer, and somehow a mace had been driven deep into the wooden floor and left there.

  Rumor had it that several maids saw the Lord battered and bruised, limping toward the infirmary, supported by the Lady at his side. She was smiling the entire way, followed by a pale and shaken entourage.

  Rumors about what happened inside that training hall would become a legend among the castle staff.

  ***

  Dame Daniella

  The sun had barely risen when Dame Daniella arrived at the castle gate and was escorted inside. The castle carried a different air that morning. Maids and servants moved with lighter steps, their eyes brighter, their voices touched with quiet merriment. She knew the reason. Just past midnight, a child had been born. And not just any child, but one of noble and formidable lineage.

  The staff who learned of the birth treated it as a good omen. It was common knowledge that lords often bestowed protection and favor upon the place of their birth, and that such favor often extended to those who had been present, including the servants.

  Now they had not only Lord Lansius’ son, but also the son of another powerful lord.

  While the details of the parents’ true identities were still kept secret, Dame Daniella was part of the inner circle and had already been briefed. She knew the child was Lord Arte’s. Lady Felicity had given birth to a son.

  Dame Daniella walked steadily toward the council chamber. Her squire followed quietly, carrying two gifts in his hands. The first was intended for Lady Petra, who had healed her ankle and allowed her to walk without pain again. The second was for Lady Ella, who had eagerly permitted Petra to treat her.

  The council meeting, led by Sir Omin, was mostly routine, save for the final matter. It was a warning regarding the growing eagerness among the knights to attain the new rank of Banneret, an ambition that might stir rivalry within the ranks.

  The new title was much coveted, and many wished to be the next to receive it. Notably, after Sir Morton, Sir Harold, and Sir Omin, the next in line would be Sir Servius and Dame Daniella herself. She had taken part in nearly every campaign, from Korimor to Three Hills, and fought in the rebellion as well.

  She could understand the eagerness. The title guaranteed a stipend for the rest of their lives. While the rank itself was not transferable, the wealth they accumulated could be passed down to an heir. It was an assurance that their family would survive and even thrive, regardless of fortune in war or failure in trade.

  It was a high achievement, and short of becoming a baronet or a baron, something now impossible with the Imperium defunct, the rank of Banneret was the highest most could ever hope to attain.

  While many still held to tradition and lamented that the rank did not grant full autonomy over land, most saw the change as favorable.

  After all, the offer was much the same as that accepted by the Shogunate Lords, who had traded independence and authority for a guarantee of peace. In return, the Lords received protection for their land and a secure inheritance for their House.

  For a Banneret, the stipend they received was calculated based on the land officially bestowed upon them.

  Had anyone other than Lord Lansius proposed such a system, it would never have been considered. It ran against long-held tradition, proven and trusted over generations. Yet this Lord had brought peace to the turbulent Lowlandia. Not only through victory in battle, but by aligning the Lords toward a shared purpose.

  After all, as he had once told her, what these warring Houses truly desired was simple. They wanted to keep their inherited lands, retain a measure of authority, and possess enough wealth to sustain their households, their retainers, and the quiet comforts that marked a noble life.

  After the meeting concluded, the council took a short recess. At times, this was when new reports arrived or other officials were received. Today, the Chief Bailiff entered the chamber. In front of the council, he gave his account regarding the apothecary who had surrendered.

  "It has been almost two months, and we have completed the investigation," the Chief Bailiff reported.

  Dame Daniella had heard of the man. He was the one responsible for creating the potent drugs in incense form, substances that had turned rioters into mindless ghouls during the fateful One Day Rebellion. The memory still made her feel ill.

  "Do you have anything to comment?" Sir Omin asked, turning to Daniella.

  "I doubt we are capable of offering sound advice regarding this apothecary," she replied. "I believe the matter should be left to the Lord."

  "I share the same view," Sir Sterling said.

  With that matter settled, the small council was adjourned. The Lord had chosen not to attend the council that day, and Dame Daniella spent the afternoon with Lady Ella and Petra, who accepted her gifts and invited her to lunch and a carriage ride around town, visiting both well-known and newly opened shops for personal supplies.

  ...

  Two days later, feeling better, the Lord attended the council and finally reviewed the bailiff’s report. As he read to the end, he exhaled sharply, his displeasure plain. It was not the first time he had heard of this surrendering apothecary.

  “So he is genuinely seeking employment under my banner?” the Lord asked.

  “Indeed, My Lord,” Sir Omin confirmed.

  Dame Daniella could see that the Lord was weighing his decision. In this matter, he could not keep a surrendered man, even a guilty one, in detention indefinitely. Instead of answering at once, he turned to Sir Sterling.

  “What do you think?”

  “If he is the one who made those cursed incenses, then I would rather see him dead,” Sterling replied without hesitation.

  The Lord nodded, then shifted his gaze to Sir Omin.

  “Despite his wrongdoings, much of it can be attributed to his employer, the Monastery,” Sir Omin replied. “We should also consider his talent in medicine.”

  “Are we certain we need such talent to turn men into ghouls?” Camp Commander Karl asked evenly from beside her. He had only just returned from inspecting the Lord’s manors, visiting them one by one.

  “Medicine is a vast field of study. Incense making is only one branch of his knowledge. An apothecary understands poisons that harm as well as remedies that heal,” Sir Omin argued. He then turned to Lord Lansius. “Furthermore, it would be unwise to punish those who surrender to us. I urge you to consider leniency.”

  Karl did not argue, but he cast a glance toward Dame Daniella.

  The Lord followed his gaze and turned to her. “And you, Dame? Do you also wish to see this apothecary dead?”

  “I bear hatred toward those who turned men into mindless creatures,” she replied. “Yet I also recognize that he may have something to offer through his knowledge.”

  The Lord nodded twice and inhaled sharply. “Make no mistake. I hate the man and his vile creation that nearly killed us all. Yet I also acknowledge his potential in devising better cures, or antidotes.”

  The old scribe set quill to parchment and recorded the decision.

  “Besides," the Lord added, "I doubt that locking him away or executing him would make any difference. No secret remains hidden for long. Others would uncover it in time. I would rather we study the drugs, learn its effects, its limits, perhaps even a way to counter it. Thus, I'm going to move him to Ornietia under Sir Michael. There, he will set his knowledge down in writing and teach as many physicians as possible. If he proves to be a redeemable character, then I will grant him greater leniency.”

  As the scribe continued to write details, Lansius spoke again. “And speaking of those who have surrendered. I hear our penal battalion has reached Three Hills.”

  “They have, My Lord,” Sir Omin confirmed. “And since we are speaking of them, what are your orders for Farkas and his men?”

  Lansius did not answer at once. He leaned back in his chair, fingers stroking his chin, his gaze distant. The chamber fell silent as the council waited.

  Farkas and his skirmishers had been in the jungle since the beginning. Of all his forces, they had stayed there the longest.

  “Are you planning to pull them out?” Karl asked carefully.

  “No,” the Lord replied, eyes sharp, voice confident. “Operation Iron Nails continues. The Fourth Prong is about to begin.”

  ***

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