ã€ŠThe Viper Queenã€‹


 Chapter 1

    There I stared from a nook made from slabs of stone, an observer of the act. We had been walking for some ways trying to find a place where the endless fields of green could hide the atrocities of lesser men. I pray they do not make me a dead man''s wife nuzzled snug in a unmarked grave, it''s all the same to them, I suppose..

    They are trying to find a place less conspicuous than the endless fields of green that would give a way their disturbances of the ground. Storm clouds rolled across the sky ready to pour out , the rain will be used as a benefit for them.

    these fiends found a place near a Grove, whose land seem to do just fine for the peeling back of god''s green earth.

    Hands given by God, made to bury another who was given. I suppose those hands are giving back completing a mad circle like an Ouroboros.

    Hours had passed, and the pit was fit. The biggest of the brutes threw over his back, a man wrapped in rags whom I loved. He Tossed his remains into the fit pit, big enough for the act and the pondering of my fate.

    Demons I thought, vile petty beastsof lustful base desires. If only I was born a man I thought then I could challenge them at least and live and die with dignity and pride.

    Tears of anger boiled in my eyes as I looked upon my captures. What I wouldn''t give to see them hoisted up and mutilated.

    I will have you by the flame tonight, the big stinking one said, rubbing his belly, slurring his words as he waddled his way towards me .

    I, repulsed by his presence curled up and turned my face, closing my eyes in dread.

    In that moment, I felt as if I was free falling.

    My life as a young noble woman turned on its head.

    My betrothed, dead in a hole and these brutes, ready to do unquestionable things to me. I couldn''t imagine things getting any worse.

    What makes you think you get her first. The short balding fellow with the unusually hideous deformity, making his nose look more like a snout. as he snorted

    I say we pull straws. We each get to have our way with her from biggest to smallest? he said. Do what you like as long as you don''t mess up her face.Women this beautiful, catch a respectable price at the shore. The third one wrapped his head in a dirty black cloth. But he couldn''t hide his accent he wasn''t from land like the other two.

    The hideous nose wrapped me by the shoulder and winced as he grabbed a pouch, which seen better days and guzzled the content within. He belched in my face as I turned grimacing away from him.

    This one had at least a plan for my sexual mutilation.

    Only a creature such as men can be creative and civil with their vile natures. I guess I should be lucky that it''s creative and civil and not creative and evil.

    Do you hear that Missy we''re gonna pull straws to see which one gets ya first? You wouldn''t have any suggestions on which one should havethat warm and moist gash of yours first now would you? Come on then, speak up.

    The big one said chuckling out in a disgusting glee as he begun poking me with a stick he found nearby.

    I have to find a way out of this or suffer their indignities I thought .

    Then, in a knowing Voice, I uttered the words of my house , something, my lord father would say to me. Something that I say to this day that always from that moment on gave me strength.

    A life for money¡­

    I slightly changed it for the effect I felt it would have on these lesser menThis text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    The true words were

    a life for power.

    Stop poking her, Roof you idiot. My masked captive said.

    What is this life for money you speak of woman.

    Roof, the big stinking fellow just couldn''t help tormenting me in that moment; he didn''t stop his poking. come on speak up.

    he said between giggles.

    She is just trying to fool us. Rudy will pull out your teeth for lying you see he did me,

    he did me!

    Russ shut up!

    Roof bring her here.

    The big brute pulled me by the cloth of my arm and dragged me to the open grave right to the feet of Ruby.

    Rudy then grabbed me by the meat of my neck with his mud covered hand and pushed my face into the hole bringing me to stare at the man half submerged in mud, his face protruding through the rags , his eyes still open steering coldly into mine.

    Why shouldn''t we just bury you along with this fucking guy. Who is he to you anyway?

    Ruby jerking my head lashing it about as he placed my late husband''s dagger near my cheek. Don''t you lie to me I will know, he said. Now out with it''s the truth or you go straight in the hole?

    I cried out.

    He is my savior!!

    I said loudly and believably.

    He was tasked by my Lord father to rescue me. He did and he was taking me back while you three ambushed us.

    I am Lord Orwil''s only daughter.

    Justine Orwil if you take me back, I''m sure you will get..

    the Lord''s reward. Russ interrupted.

    Reward, Roof said dumbfounded

    Now hold on boys let''s not get to bewitched especially without details.

    This one named Ruby wasn''t as dimwitted as his comrades. I must be tactful now.

    I was returning from my family''s summer home in Austria and was ambushed by bandits. This man is sir Garfield he was sent with a detachment, but the detachment got wiped out in the¡­. ransom negotiation, and the only one left was him and me.

    Sir Garfield, outnumbered, but not out skilled slayed all of my abductors and freed me.

    I left key things out to smooth over the story. His gallant display of disregard for my life made it easier not harder to lie too Ruby. Sir Garfield was indeed my husband, I suppose. Apologies for speaking ill of the dead but and we did get ambushed and I must say, I did not know the man, after all it was a betrothmentand he''s been out Crusades of our lives.

    I began to force myself to cry and become truly hysterical.

    My God it was a sight to behold. tied up, made to ride a horse on my belly from behind a saddle like I''m some hunters meaty catch, a truly painful and demeaning experience.

    Then, It was amazing. He came from seemingly. out of thin air, first impaling the man riding the horse I was on through the back of the head with a spear, then grabbing me. and pulling me to his horse with one hand. While the other 4 men decided to give chase.

    He ended up defeating four men and took me away. I said.

    My eyes puffy from forced tears, my throat horse from the hysterical whining I hope they don''t kill me just because I''m annoyed, but I must sell it,the act.

    I''m sure if my father got me back safe and he behappy to reward¡­

    You''re sure,

    we are to set you free on a

    you''re sure.

    Ruby said.

    No no no no no, little girl we will need a guarantee that you will not speak on what was done today.

    Russ, interjected

    That is, if you don''t want us putting the rest of your body in this hole you got that you fucking wench.

    Of course, surely you have my word.

    Now, how much is this reward? ruby asked still holding me down face first in the pit. I tried to think of a number not too crazy, but high enough to keep their attention.

    I heard, sir Garfield speak of 1075 gold pieces he was going to be paid.

    Do you hear that boys Ruby said? Turning back to the other two.

    1075 gold pieces is enough to open our own inn.

    Ruby said excitingly. Fuck Ah. Inn let''s hope in a brothel that way, we can have sex all day and night, Russ said as he picked his teeth with a small jacket piece of metal that conveniently got chipped off the blade used to stab my husband in his last moments.

    OK, that settles it. Ruby pulled me back up and with one motion tossed me back into the stone slab corner.I landed on my shoulder with a thud the pain from my landing, was a relief from being dead for the moment.

    You will sleep in that corner tonight you two finish up the hole I''ll get the fire started.

    Tomorrow we''ll make for the Orwil encampment it should be close by.

    I bought myself a few hours if not a day or two. So I did what I was told and sat in that corner, quiet, cold, and hungry as I watched Russ and roof finish burying my husband. Ruby gathering for a fire. We were ordained since birth to be married. I remember the first time we met he took me on a horseback ride through his family''s forest estate in western spain. It was thrilling and romantic. Now I wish we never left that forest years ago. If we never left, we would have made a good couple.The two of us making life for ourselves in the middle of a forest together. Things were so more easier back then.

    I suppose all this is God''s will .....

 Chapter 2

    The night was dreadful; thunder and rain slugged the ground right outside. The shelter was a rather small cave, big enough for the four of us barely. It took nearly an hour for my three assailants to get a fire going. When they finally did, the cold became bearable as long as the winds were working in our favor.

    I sat by the flame, curled up and hunched over, trying to hold on to as much of my body heat as I could. From time to time, I would peek up to see Roof staring at me in a daze. I would quickly put my head down and act as if I didn¡¯t see anything, but I felt his gaze as the moments turned to hours. I wasn¡¯t going to go to bed¡ªat least not until this monster did first.

    ¡°Roof! Get some sleep¡ªI¡¯ll take first watch,¡± Ruby said as he shook his shoulder, jolting him out of his trance.

    They attempted to pull straws earlier, but I came up with the idea that my lord father would most likely pay double if my chastity was maintained. Lucky for me, their greed outweighed their lust. Russ truly didn¡¯t like that suggestion; he nearly dented his discolored (and frankly completely disgusting) cooking pot hanging off his belt.

    ¡°The warmth of a woman would be good for tonight,¡± he said as Roof started his incessant staring.

    In the end, the three wouldn¡¯t fully fall asleep until the middle of the night. I did too, soon after¡­

    A few hours passed, and I felt a tugging on my dress. I suddenly shot up, trying to get away, as it must be¡ª

    I opened my eyes and turned my head to see Roof, half on top of me, pulling up my dress. I quickly tried to move away, but he grabbed my ankles and pulled me closer.

    Just when I was about to let off a bone-chilling scream, he covered my mouth and nose, then placed his entire weight on me. I couldn¡¯t breathe¡­Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

    And there I was, right beneath this monster, bellowing out repulsive exhales. It smelled like Roof was chewing on a rotting carcass. He began pulling up my dress and licking my neck.

    ¡°Just a quick one-on-one¡ªno one will know,¡± he said, whispering in my ear. He was so compelled by this gruesome act that he didn¡¯t notice me reaching for my hairpin¡ªa sharp, pretty little thing that acted just like a dagger. It was one of the only gifts my mother gave me before she died three years ago.

    I quickly poked Roof¡¯s neck once. The pin was long and sharp enough to get his attention. He stopped what he was doing and pulled back in a panic, getting to his feet. (Short pause¡­)

    ¡°Whore!¡± he screamed out, the wound in his neck bleeding profusely as he muttered curses in an angry stupor.

    Then he started laughing. ¡°Stick me while I¡¯m trying to stick you,¡± he said, holding the wound. ¡°Come here, you¡ªI¡¯ll get you back, you hear? You fucking whore!¡± He took a step toward me as I hoped he¡¯d pass out from the blood loss before¡­ Suddenly.

    Roof made a terrible, bubbling screech¡ªlike he wanted to scream, but a dagger protruding from his chest made it impossibly difficult. He fell to his knees and fell  over as Ruby stood behind him, dagger in hand. Russ saw the whole thing and did nothing. He looked more petrified than I did, and I¡¯d just helped kill a man.

    ¡°No one will get in the way of my reward,¡± Ruby said, wiping my husband¡¯s dagger on his thigh. ¡°He didn¡¯t touch you, did he?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± I said, flustered.

    ¡°Good. Apologies for my ex-partner, my lady,¡± he said mockingly. ¡°He didn¡¯t understand what good business is. I do.¡± He reached out for me to grab his arm, and I did. ¡°You will not be harmed¡ªnot unless I don¡¯t get my reward, of course. Business is business,¡± he said surprisingly aristocratically.

    In one motion, I was on my feet. Ruby was an interesting man, capable of putting aside his lust for a greater prize. He was a mysterious fellow, always covering his face and talking with an Asiatic accent¡ªwhich gave the inclination English wasn¡¯t his first language¡ªbut he was quite proficient in it.

    I nodded in agreement. I looked down at Roof lying there, not quite dead, drowning in his own blood. I hoped he¡¯d rot in hell.

    ¡°Russ, make some food, and you¡¯re in charge of the bags. We¡¯ll break camp at dawn¡­¡±

 Chapter 3

    They left his body in the open, not even a grave for their comrade. They treated my late husband with more respect. Russ tied a worn-out rope to his leg and had the only horse drag him a couple hundred yards away from the grave they made yesterday. Soon after that, the sun rose and the trek through the muddy lands begun. Ruby tied a somewhat rotten rope around my waist and ruby ordered Russ to hold it as he tended to the horse.

    This Ruby was definitely more intelligent than he looked. This disheveled Arab man had enough foresight to pin the murder on his comrades corpse. His name, even now, I¡¯ve forgotten.

    I watched Ruby take my late husband¡¯s knife and put it in his pocket. Evidence is essential in these areas, and it should be enough proof to absolve Ruby and Russ. What was an Asiatic man doing with a native-born Catholic, I wondered?

    These were the questions that busied my mind as we walked all morning through the drudgery. Hi, being a lady and have never done such strenuous activities made a fool out of myself multiple times falling in the mud on my face. That son of a whore, Russ would tug on the rope to make me fall randomly, and when I was trying to get back up. He must have enjoyed seeing a lady covered in mud after a while he grew tired of his games.

    The horse was used to carry supplies and rations.

    I wished it could carry me.

    My feet were not only aching but wet, I was drenched and cold all over. I just wanted to be back in my home¡ªthe Orwill Manor. In the estate, several thousand feet of land stretched out for acres, with maids catering to your every whim.

    I shouldn¡¯t get lost in thoughts that don¡¯t serve me in this moment, but I couldn¡¯t help thinking about things that distracted me from the concerning ordeal of my current situation.

    suddenly,

    Russ quickly fell to his knees and put his left ear to the ground.

    ¡°Looks like we¡¯ve got something coming¡ªon horseback, I¡¯d say.¡±

    Ruby quickly pulled me and the horse off the road and into some bushes nearby.

    We laid there discreetly, the 4 of us¡ªif you¡¯re going to include the horse.

    I¡¯d never seen a horse so well-trained. Ruby they the ability to get his horse to lie on its side with just a point and a snap of his fingers.

    The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

    It was truly a sight to see. Could this mean he was once a saddle boy or something?

    Ruby gave me a menacing stare as Russ seemingly took the words right out of his mouth.

    ¡°If you say a word, Ruby will cut off a piece of your tongue when everything is said and done. You see¡­¡±

    Russ opened his mouth to show a nearly healed wound black, and scabed over, truly grotesque. A small piece of his tongue had been cut¡ªthe tip.

    I said nothing. Besides, I thought to myself, why should I? Who¡¯s to say these people aren¡¯t worse bandits than the ones who previously held me hostage? I stayed content sitting next to a horse lying on its side in the mud.?

    I heard what seemed to be a stampede of horses a few yards up on the road. The group of horsemen stopped, and one of them dismounted to inspect the road.

    The muddy ground betrayed our footsteps. Ruby, realizing the blunder, grabbed the rope which was wrapped around my wrist, and began pulling me close. I helplessly relented.

    ¡°Ruby, we hould go,¡± Russ slurred. I could barely make out the sound of an ¡°S¡± every time he spoke. Altogether, it was quite tragic.

    In that moment, we saw the horsemen dismount. There were at least fifteen able-bodied men sporting armor and weapons.

    One of them, I noticed, had the symbol of the Orwill family¡ªtwo open hands holding a sun¡ªembedded into the chest plate. They were my lord father¡¯s men. My stay in captivity was almost over¡ªor so I thought.

    It was as if Ruby noticed the symbol just as I did. The moment I was about to call out, he quickly took a knife to my neck.

    ¡°You will not betray us, Justine Orwill. I saved you last night from that brute, remember?¡± he said, slowly lowering the knife from my neck. ¡°Now let us go to them.¡±

    I couldn¡¯t hide my excitement. My face burst into a big smile as I turned and got up on my feet. I ran out from the bushes, covered in mud.

    ¡°Thank the gods you¡¯ve found me¡ªsaved me!¡±

    I said. A

    As I got closer, I began to notice the inconsistencies. The darker complexion of their skin, similar to Ruby¡¯s. Even the armor was worn-out, dented¡ªas if it had been stolen from corpses.

    I stopped, terrified by my mistake. Ruby was nowhere to be found. Neither was Russ. He tricked me

    They began to speak in a language unknown to me. I started to back away slowly. They inched closer. One of them raised a bow and arrow, pointing it directly at my face.

    The one in the front began to speak in a tone of authority. I was frozen with fear.

    He walked up to me, continuing to talk. He reached out and lifted my chin so my eyes could meet his.

    In that instant, an arrow impaled his brain. I¡¯m guessing he was dead before his body hit the ground. I quickly bent down as I heard another arrow whistle right above me.

    Luckily, the man with the bow pointing directly at my face didn¡¯t have a good shot¡ªprobably because there was already an arrow lodged in his shoulder.

    They were being attacked.

 Chapter 4

    The fight was bloody and wild. I ran off the way I came, completely useless. I even stumbled over a rock as I ran, falling flat on my face.

    "Come, Justine," Ruby said, pulling me to my feet by hoisting me up by my armpits from behind.

    "Quickly, into the forest!" he shouted.

    From nowhere, an arrow flew and lodged itself in Ruby''s right thigh. Ruby grunted in pain and stumbled. I tried to reach for him, attempting to pull him to his feet, but then¡ª

    A sword descended suddenly into my vision. I hadn''t noticed the man on horseback approaching until his blade was poised just a few inches from my face. I stood there, frozen and covered in mud, completely petrified.

    This will surely be where I die, I thought.

    Then I noticed it. Just below the knight''s cloak, embroidered on his chest plate, was my family''s seal.

    the sun was on his chest was like sunrise in that moment. Not like before this was like that real thing.

    a real Orwil knight.

    I looked up at the knight''s face, it was covered by an iron mask.

    "Commander Olaf! We found this one hiding in the bush!" one of the soldiers called.

    They dragged Russ and pushed him onto Ruby, who was still crawling on the ground. Russ fell over Ruby, landing in the mud as the surrounding soldiers on horseback laughed.

    "Who are you, girl? You look familiar."

    I could barely make out the knight''s voice, but still, I mustered the courage to speak.

    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.

    "I¡­ I am Justine Orwil of House Orwil," I said, tears gathering in my eyes. "Get this sword out of my face."

    The knight on horseback quickly moved the sword and sheathed it. He paused, staring at me as the others around us fell silent, having heard my answer.

    "Commander Olaf, what is your orders, sir?"

    The commander dismounted his horse and raised the front of his mask. He stared into my eyes, and I saw the recognition dawn on him.

    In that moment, he knew. He knew I was the little girl he had once guarded all those years ago. It must have been hard for him to recognize me, caked in mud and barely standing, but now, there was no doubt.

    "Forgive me, my lady," he said, bowing slightly. "Please, take my horse."

    He turned to the soldiers. "Make a small detachment and scout the road ahead. Clear it of any bandits. We must make a way to camp for our lord."

    With great difficulty, I hoisted myself onto the saddle of Commander Olaf''s well-groomed horse. I sat as comfortably as I could manage, looking down at my subjects.

    I wiped the tears from my eyes and gritted my teeth.

    "Thank you, Sir Olaf."

    "It is my honor, my lady," Commander Olaf said. "The encampment has been searching for you. All the men are scouring the countryside. Now that you are back, there is hope."

    "Hope, Sir Olaf? What do you mean?"

    Olaf stood quietly for a moment, choosing his next words carefully.

    "I think it better you go to the encampment and find out there, my lady. All I will say is: make haste. You are needed."

    Even in my sore and lethargic state, I felt a surge of energy course through my body. A determination stirred within me, urging me to move instead of quarrel with Olaf for answers. I had a horse, and I had men sworn to my father''s court at my side.

    "What should we do with these two?" a random knight asked, gesturing with his sword to Russ, still soaked in the mud.

    "Lady Orwil, are these your captors or saviors?"

    I sat there on the horse, staring into Ruby''s eyes. He was covered in mud from head to toe.

    Pause.

    Ruby sluggishly pulled Russ down, forcing him to bow low before me.

    "If you let us live, my lady, we will serve you with our lives," Ruby said, his head pressed into the mud, pleading.

    "Take them with us," I said finally. "Both of them. Tend to their wounds and imprison them."

    "Yes, my lady," Sir Olaf said.

    "Which way?" I asked.

    "Follow the road and stay in the center of the formation. The knights will escort you. Ride safely, my lady. We will meet you there."

 Chapter 5

    The hard ride to camp was made easier due to Olaf¡¯s robust horse. I felt invincible riding on its back, like a moving fortress, surrounded by other moving forts¡ªmy escorts.

    The cold air felt exhilarating as we, not too long after, came upon the encampment. It was just a short distance from the initial meeting place. Thankfully, all that walking from earlier wasn¡¯t all for naught.

    As we rode into the encampment, a sense of melancholy was clear and heavy. It¡¯s difficult to describe this level of dread¡ªwritten in the movements of soldiers, caught in their subtle glances and stares. But it was there that day.

    An Ominous lethargy taxed the wounded as they lay moaning in the distance.

    I followed the escort toward the center of the encampment, where we found ourselves in front of a red and brown tent¡ªthe colors of my house.

    I would meet Father once again. Only Father lay inside. I was sure of it. I mustered up the courage and did my best to wipe the grimy mud from my dress.

    ¡°Never mind that, my lord, you should go on then,¡± a random knight who had escorted me said.

    ¡°It is my lady. My lord father is the Lord, the Duke of Saraqustah,¡± I replied sharply.

    ¡°Like I said, just get in there.¡±

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    I felt the tenseness roll up my spine as I realized the obviousness of his statement. I had been so caught up in the idea of getting back to the estate that I never fully grasped the dire situation. Me, on my way back from the winter retreat, set upon by men trying to abduct me. People like Ruby running rampant in the countryside. This must mean an invasion.

    I wondered what dread was waiting for me behind two pieces of cloth. I paused for a moment, hoping to find my footing¡ªor at the very least savor this moment of stability before I was swept up in another ordeal.

    I gritted my teeth and walked into the tent.

    The first thing I saw was a map of the Mediterranean on a huge table. I didn¡¯t recognize the standards or the ornaments that decorated the tent, nor the man brooding in the corner. All I could focus on was the positioning of the figures that represented the enemy and my father¡¯s men. If I was reading this correctly, the enemy had already taken a keep on the outskirts of the duchy¡ªa county called Calatayud.

    This was far worse than I thought.

    ¡°Justine! Thank God Almighty you have returned!¡±

    The man elated to see me was my cousin from Barcelona and heir to the Barony of Barcelona, Pere Ramond de Barcelona.

    He quickly left his brooding state and gave me a hug with the utmost urgency. I was happy to be in the arms of family again. Even though I wasn¡¯t close to Ramond, he was still my dynasty. I hugged him back.

    ¡°I sent a detachment as soon as I heard your husband went looking for your ambushed escort. I¡¯m guessing he was successful. Where is Sir Garfield?¡±

    ¡°He is dead,¡± I said, and silence fell upon us.

    ¡°What! Without Sir Garfield¡­ Once his troops catch wind of his death, there goes 5,000 men!¡±

    ¡°I wish your father, Afentis, was still here. I¡­¡±

    ¡°Where is my father? He should be here!¡± I said in distress, bracing myself for what came next.

    I had an odd feeling this entire day, but now I knew it was not without reason.

    ¡°The Duke of Saraqustah is dead.¡±

 Chapter 6

    The words came as a cruel herald to me¡ª

    my father was dead. Tears welled unbidden in my eyes as I turned sharply away from Raymon, unwilling to let him witness the raw agony coursing through me.

    My step faltered, nearly betraying my resolve, but instinctively, my hand grasped a rough-hewn pole that upheld the canvas roof. In that trembling instant, a quiet determination stirred within me. Surely, I must have known all along that fate had chosen me for this terrible duty. I am his heir, after all.

    "I am in charge," I said. It was more of a silent vow to myself than a command.

    Raymon moved closer, his tone gentle but riddled with condescension as he began to speak. "Justine, do not worry¡ªI understand how you must feel," he murmured, his words intended to comfort, to pacify a frightened child rather than acknowledge the newly rightful heir before him. "I will lead the men in your stead. What would the clergy say if a woman led men? I am your cousin, after all."

    But the fire in my eyes blazed with a clarity that could not be dimmed. With a swift turn, I fixed him with a stare that brooked no argument. "I am the Duchess of Serraquista, the rightful heir, and this is my army," I declared, each syllable resonating with unyielding authority. My voice, firm and resolute, silenced his murmuring reassurances.

    The oppressive tension that had gripped the tent since I laid it out clearly for Raymon seemed to pause, suspended in the heavy air, until I broke it with a single command. "Gather the council," I ordered, my tone leaving no room for debate.

    Raymon hesitated, then ventured, "They should be meeting soon¡­ Perhaps you should rest, my duchess."

    Rest, I said.

    The word felt as foreign as comfort in that moment of raw, searing grief. Before he could press further, I cut him off sharply. "There is no time for rest¡ªI must speak to the men immediately."

    With a sigh heavy with resignation, Raymon turned and departed briskly, leaving me alone amid the quiet stirrings of those who now looked to me for guidance. The barony of Barcelona was bound in duty and fealty to the Duchy of Saraqustah. It had long been my domain. In my heart, I knew that the mantle of command was mine alone to bear¡ªnot as a delegated charge, but as an undeniable birthright.

    No sooner had my words faded than the heavy flaps of the tent''s entrance were thrown aside to admit my late father''s trusted councilmen. First came Sir Ellen, the master of arms, his gaze as steely as the blade he once wielded in my father''s name, his pointed mustache twitching.

    Next followed Sir Luke of Ibalin, the once-proud spymaster, whose measured steps belied the sorrow etched upon his face. He was an Italian Arab¡ªa rarity, all things considered.

    Then, a frail figure emerged¡ªSir David, the chancellor, whose every motion spoke of long years spent in loyal service. A haggard cough plagued him, a sign of the consumption that clung to his weary frame. He wore only a heavy jacket over simple clothes, evidence that he must have dragged himself from his sickbed to be here.

    As my eyes searched for the final member of the circle, I could not help but demand, "And where is Sir Donovan, the master of ships?"

    Before I could finish, Sir Luke interposed, his voice hushed and heavy with regret as he pulled out a handkerchief to cover his mouth, casually shifting away from the sickly Sir David. "My duchess, Sir Donovan died of consumption three days ago."

    I remember that day as if it were etched in the very marrow of my bones¡ªa day when sorrow and fury intermingled with the bitter tang of defeat. The news of Sir Donovan''s death¡ªour master of ships claimed by consumption¡ªfell upon us like a final, crushing blow. I stood amid the council, utterly shocked, as the plague that had ravaged our countryside for eight long years was recalled again in anguished whispers: children suffocating in their sleep, taken by an illness that spared no one, and a land choked by the despair of endless suffering.

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    Between his ragged coughs, Sir David, our chancellor, began to speak hauntingly of the blockade that had strangled trade with the Catholic Church and our other allies. His voice trembled as he described how the Umayyads had seized most of Lower Spain, advancing through the heartland with a speed and ferocity unseen before¡ªall mounted on swift steeds. The military master, his tone grim and precise, added that our foes were not ordinary horsemen but fierce African warriors trained in the art of archery from horseback, their accuracy honed to deadly perfection. Reports of their assault described them moving like a wave across the countryside, all clad in black. Because of their relentless momentum, they had stripped away the military forces of our neighboring allies one by one before they could mobilize. We alone remained, our refuge carved into the impassable mountains, yet our stronghold lay bare, unprotected once the enemy breached these rugged passes.

    "Stop," I commanded. "What happened to my father?"

    At that moment, I saw the sadness in Sir David''s eyes. He could not meet my gaze. Instead, he walked toward the table with the map of Spain and pointed to a path just outside our encampment.

    "We received reports that their supply line was using Rickfork''s Pass to maintain their army. Due to the speed and intensity of their assault, we knew they needed those supplies, especially since your father convinced the neighboring rulers to stockpile all resources within their fortifications, making pillaging difficult. He planned to ambush their supply lines to buy us time to fortify this encampment¡ªbut something went wrong. Their forces doubled back, and your father was defeated. Reports say he was killed in battle."

    "Why didn''t he just send a detachment?" I demanded. "Why did he go himself? Surely one of you could have spoken sense into him!"

    Sir David took his time, allowing me to vent my frustration, before replying solemnly. "Morale was, and still is, low, my duchess. I believe the late Duke played his best hand to ensure there were no deserters¡ªthat his troops would fight hard, knowing their liege lord fought beside them."

    I was reluctant to accept his words, but there was nothing to be done now.

    "I see¡­"

    A fresh wave of emotion surged through me¡ªanger, sorrow, and a desperate, choking grief that nearly robbed me of my voice. "How many men remain?" I asked, barely controlling the tremor of despair.

    The master of arms answered grimly. "We have 2,500 left, my duchess. The rest lie wounded. We suffered a massive defeat; our men are weary with sorrow and the shock of our lord''s passing. Just one day ago, we performed his fire burial."

    Then, a chilling scream erupted from the infirmary, cutting through the heavy air of the tent like a dagger. Silence fell¡ªso oppressive it felt as if we were drowning in despair.

    That silence was my crucible.

    With brutal clarity, I understood that I could no longer allow devastation to claim what remained of my family and our sacred land. It was either triumph or oblivion¡ªa life of power or death under the weight of our actions. My heart ablaze and my resolve crystallized, I stormed out of the council tent and raised my voice until it rang across the muddy encampment.

    "My men! My bannermen of Saraqustah¡ªhear me!"

    The assembled warriors, their faces streaked with dirt and grief, stirred slowly, drawn by the command in my cry. I paused to let the echo of my words mingle with the rustle of the wind, then continued, my voice steady and fierce, as I recounted to them¡ªand to you,¡ªthe terrible truth of our fate:

    "As you all know, my father, Duke of Saraqustah, Athenis Orwil, fell in battle, fighting with every last breath for our land. I return to a birthright shattered into tatters, besieged by Islamic invaders and by would-be captors who sought to ransom me away. Yet, by some miracle wrought of discipline and destiny¡ªthe discipline of the Orwil dynasty¡ªI stand before you today. I stand as the last of my noble, catholic blood; I stand, mud-caked nearly raped and defiled like each of you, but unbroken in spirit.

    Our enemy has beaten away our allies and brought ruin upon our lands. Though our defeat has been crushing, I proclaim that discipline will win this war! The formations of the Orwil dynasty, forged by honor and hard-won valor, will yet prevail!

    Though my master of arms speaks of only 2,500 soldiers, left, and 5,000 of my betrothed stand ready at my side, let it be known: I am not broken! you are not broken. I am filled with righteous fury and unyielding resolve, and those who have defiled our lands shall feel my wrath."

    At that moment, the murmurs of despair turned to an uproar of cheers and renewed determination. Amid the cacophony, I later learned that from within a nearby cage¡ªRuby, once held captive and thought meek¡ªclutched the cold iron bars, his eyes transfixed upon me. In that silent, charged glance, he realized the unassailable truth: I had never been afraid at all. I had been playing him for a fool.

    A fool indeed

 Chapter 7

    I stood before my men, though there was no fire to warm them, and I was still caked in mud from earlier today. In that moment, I was no different from them¡ªjust another soldier bearing the weight of past tribulations. The exhaustion, the hardships, the uncertainty of what lay ahead¡ªall of it clung to me as it did to them. And yet, as I spoke, I saw their eyes burn with renewed vigor, their fists tightening around the hilts of their swords and spears. Whatever doubts had festered before, my words had doused them in fervor. This battle would be ours. Victory Will be ours.

    As I moved from in front of the army, now rallied before me, I heard someone call my name. I turned my head, and there he was¡ªRuby, locked in a cage. His gaze was fixed on me, stunned. The fragile captive with a wound in his leg; I suppose he had taken me for a lier. A brilliant, deceptive lier. He had been played, as had every man who had underestimated me. I hesitated for just a moment before striding toward my tent, my command over the camp absolute. As my spymaster followed right behind me.

    Justine!!

    I stopped. Remarkably, I heard him amidst the bustling of soldiers and the preparations for war. Our eyes met, and I studied him with the same keen intelligence I wielded like a blade. Then, to my astonishment, I found myself walking toward him, my steps measured, deliberate. Even now I do not know why I chose those steps in that moment in time. I had so many things to worry about the least I needed to consider was the ramblings of some prisoner..

    Thoughts of my late betrothed Sir Garfield flew in my head and my wish of seeing him, and his comrade hoisted up and mutilated cross my mind; I most admit. But I knew better, as my father always told me to act from a state of anger is stupidity.

    When I stood before him, he lifted his chin, meeting my gaze unflinchingly. "The offer still stands."

    My brow arched. "And what offer is that?"

    "I will serve you loyally. Justine"

    Mind your tongue this is the Duchess of Saraqustah your addressing, Sir Luke said loudly and proudly.

    I took a slow breath, intrigue flickering within me. Then, skepticism. "Why should I trust you? A bandit? I don''t even know what you are. Catholic? Jewish? No.No.No you are my enemy... Ruby."

    no.. not Ruby, Rubin my name is Rubin Al Gaziz.

    He rolled up his left sleeve, revealing intricate Arabic script inked into his forearm. I let my gaze flicker over the markings, recognition dawning.

    "I am no bandit. I am a slave trader¡­ and a spy. I was sent months in advance to gather intelligence on the movements and vulnerabilities of Spain." His voice was steady, controlled. "I can be quite valuable to you."

    My spymaster, a wiry man cloaked in the anonymity of the shadows, leaned close to whisper in my ear. "This man could be of great use to us. The fact that he reveals this now means he''s willing to deal honestly."

    I tilted my head slightly, responding under my breath, "And how can you be so sure?"

    "I know the sacred order to which he belongs," the spymaster replied. "We should hear him out and decide his fate ."

    For a long moment, I regarded Rubin, noting the steadiness of his posture, the quiet confidence in his voice. But more than that, I noticed the way my spymaster spoke of him¡ªnot just as an asset, but with something else. A hint of something deeper. A familiarity, perhaps admiration.

    At last, I straightened, making my decision.

    "Wash him down," I commanded. "Dress him properly. I will see him in my tent in one hour." Sir Luke bowing before me, I will see to it my Duchess; guards you heard your Leigh.

    With that, I turned on my heel and strode back toward my tent.

    Inside, Raymond paced, his frustration manifest in every sharp step. Before I could address him, a woman came from right out of my periphery to hug me a woman I know all too well.

    My word, Justine, you have grown. Come give your aunt Lysa a hug." Lysa, the formidable ruler of the Barony of Barcelona stood before me with the same regal presence she had always carried. Her sharp blue eyes, so like my father''s, assessed me with both pride and concern. Her golden hair, streaked with silver from the burdens of leadership, was pinned in an intricate braid, and her attire bore the marks of a long journey. She must have come with Raymond as soon as she heard that my father¡ªher brother¡ªhad...

    Lady Lysa embraced me warmly, her grip firm and reassuring. "My word, Justine I always knew Afentis to be quite thorough in the art of war and his studies. I am sure you are no different."

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    Raymond, still fuming from my earlier speech to the men, scoffed. "It was unseemly. Loud and direct¡ªunlike a woman."

    Lysa''s sharp blue eyes flicked to him, her voice carrying the same weight of authority as my father once did. "Nonsense. She is Afentis''s only daughter after all."

    I nodded, assuring her, "My lord father, the late Duke, taught me everything he knew."

    I, however, quickly shifted the conversation. "Did you bring reinforcements?"

    I exhaled as she shook her head. "Unfortunately, I could not. The entire peninsula is being invaded, and I could not leave my home unprotected."

    My jaw tightened. "Then why are you here?"

    She hesitated for only a moment before answering, "I came when I heard the news of your father''s death. Raymond and I hoped to assist in the leadership¡ªso all hope is not lost."

    Despite her words, a thought crept into my mind. Did they come to help or to stake their claim in my father''s absence? they didn''t know when I would return after all.

    Shoving my suspicions aside, I spoke with measured grace. "Apologies, The road to this camp was arduous, and as you can see, I am in need of refreshment and a bath. We can speak more later."

    Lysa and Raymond exchanged a glance before nodding. Without another word, they left my tent, leaving me alone with my maids to do their work.

    Lysa left the tent first and just before Raymond fully exited he turned.

    "You can''t be serious, Justine. You''re leading the army into battle? I can do that for you."

    I met his glare, unyielding. "You''ve done enough. You roused the men; you played your part."

    Raymond protested. "You are a woman! You belong in command, yes, but not on the field."

    "My lord father raised me no differently than my brother," I said coolly. "I know battle plans. Strategy. Tactics. The men need me there."

    Raymond''s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. He opened his mouth, then closed it again, shaking his head. "This is madness."

    My expression hardened. "You will stay with me and hold you tongue. That is my command. If you wish to serve, you will do so as my bodyguard."

    The words struck him like a slap. Raymond''s face darkened, but this time, he said nothing. Instead, he remembered his place bowed and exited the tent into the night.

    I exhaled slowly, but there was no time to dwell on his bruised pride. An hour passed swiftly. With the aid of my maids, I was washed and clad in an attire befitting my status¡ªmilitary garb, finely tailored yet practical; the improvision of my tailor. By the time Rubin was brought before me, he too had been cleaned, dressed in garments neither lavish nor lowly.

    He knelt before me as I stepped around the table, scrutinizing him in silence; guards position on either side of him, his chained to a pole. while Sir Luke came walking in soon after.

    At last, I spoke. "You say you are valuable to me."

    His dark eyes met mine. "Yes."

    I studied him, weighing his words, his presence. I asked, "Then prove it."

    Ruben rose to his feet, still uncomfortably chained to a pole. He gestured to the table, where a map of the entire Mediterranean lay spread out. Justine, seeing his intent, gestured to the guards with a halting motion of her hand, allowing him to proceed by releasing his chains.

    He approached the map with me just on the other side of the table watching him point out locations as he spoke.

    "The Caliph Al-Walid has sent 18,000 troops on horseback to seize all of Spain."

    Luke frowned, arms crossed over his chest. "Our reports say only 15,000."

    Ruben shook his head, unwavering. "It is 18,000, and it will only be 18,000. The Caliph is bogged down in Egypt, waging war against a rebellion with 68,000 men. He cannot afford to send more, not yet. But make no mistake¡ªthis is a calculated strike. He does not wish to halt his Jihad, so he has entrusted one of his finest generals with this campaign." Ruben''s gaze swept across the room, landing on my own. "A man named Tariq ibn Ziyad."

    "What is this Jihad you speak of?" I asked.

    "Allah has charged our mighty Caliph with the conquering of the Iberian Peninsula. To that end, Al-Walid has invoked a holy war."

    An uneasiness came across me and everyone else in the room, excluding Ruben.

    "He is an honorable man," Ruben continued, "devout, a scholar of Islamic scripture. But do not mistake his piety for weakness. He is ruthless when it comes to battle."

    Justine, seated at the head of the table, leaned forward, her brow furrowed. "Why send only cavalry?" she asked.

    "The Caliph has been infiltrating Spain for years," Ruben explained. "He knows of your greatest weakness¡ªyour shortage of horses. That is why he has chosen to deploy an entirely mounted force. With speed, they will strike where you are most vulnerable. They seek to cripple your defenses and burn your keeps to the ground. And if these 18,000 men cannot conquer you, rest assured, the other 68,000 will follow."

    A heavy silence settled over the chamber.

    Luke exhaled sharply. "This is dire news indeed."

    Justine met Ruben''s gaze, her voice steady. "How does this help me?"

    "The Caliph has sent one of his best generals, a man named Tariq ibn Ziyad."

    "If you can force a truce with General Ziyad, he will honor it," Ruben answered. "He is not a man to break his word. That would buy you time¡ªto strengthen your defenses, to forge alliances. But first, you must defeat him. That will not be easy."

    She considered his words carefully. "And if we destroy his army outright?"

    Ruben hesitated before responding. "That would not be in your best interest. The Caliph will not take kindly to the loss of one of his most trusted generals. Retaliation would be swift and merciless. No, you must aim for a white peace¡ªa truce that leaves both sides intact."

    Justine looked at her spymaster''s face, and Sir Luke nodded in agreement. Ruben continued,

    "The cavalry force will arrive by tomorrow at the latest. At best, you have two days to prepare, but more likely a day and a half. This fortified encampment gives you an advantage, but General Ziyad is well aware of your father''s strategies."

    Justine''s fingers curled into fists. "Does he know of my father''s death?"

    Ruben hesitated, choosing his words carefully. "I cannot say for certain. If he did, he would have doubled his pace to take advantage of the upheaval. That knowledge may yet work in our favor."

    In that moment, a guard burst into the tent, breathless, a piece of parchment clenched in his hand. He rushed forward, presenting it to Sir Luke, who took it swiftly and unfolded the message. His eyes scanned the words, his expression darkening with each passing second.

    Sir Luke turned to Justine, his voice firm. "My duchess, he speaks the truth. This report speaks of a large horse army heading this way; they should be here in a day. We must act."

    Justine fell into the chair behind her and sat back, lost in thought, weighing the fate of her men against the brutal reality of war.

    "We must prepare ourselves."

 Chapter 8

    The dim glow of the tent cast flickering shadows as the chained prisoner knelt before me. Ruben met my gaze with quiet intensity, his expression unreadable. A flick of the wrist dismissed the guards. They hesitated, exchanging uncertain glances before obeying. The tent flap fell shut behind them, leaving only the two of us.

    Measured steps carried me forward until the distance between us vanished. "Justice for my betrothed is beyond reach," the words came low, edged with quiet fury. "Not when his forces strengthen mine by five thousand men. I need them. If you wish to serve, you will not speak of your crimes. If you do¡ª" a deliberate step forward invaded his space, darkening the warning, "¡ªyou will not live to see dawn. Do I make myself clear?"

    Slowly, Ruben dropped to both knees, bowing his head. "Yes, my duchess. I will do as you command."

    The formality gave me pause, but there was no time to dwell on it, no time to sit and wonder on his graceful etiquette. The tent flapped open, and my council strode inside, their expressions grave.

    The weight of the moment pressed heavily upon us all. The flickering lantern cast long shadows against the fabric walls, illuminating Sir David, Sir Donovan, and Sir Luke.

    Discussions began before I could speak a word.

    Sir Donovan, ever the warrior, crossed his arms. "We should hold the fort and force them to lay siege. Make them bleed for every inch."

    "No," Sir Luke countered, sharp and sure. "These are mounted archers,all if them, not foot soldiers. They will rain death upon us while we cower behind ill made walls. We''ll be dead before they lose a single man."

    Sir David, cutting the senseless bickering with a compliment.

    Marvelous speech, my liege, you surely inspired the¡ª

    A terrible cough wracked Sir David''s body. He hunched over the table, pressing a stained, bloody handkerchief to his lips.

    "Enough," I said, eyes narrowing. "Sir David, you are ill. Return to your tent. You are no use to me dead."

    "My liege, surely I can still be of servi¡ª" Another cough choked off his words. He looked up¡ª

    A glare silenced him. "I will hear no protest. Leave, before we all share your affliction."

    And thank you for your kind words, Sir David.

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    He hesitated, then nodded weakly. Rising to unsteady feet, he trudged out without another word.

    A sharp exhale steadied my thoughts. "Sir Luke is right. A siege would ruin us. But there has to be another way."

    Moving to the tent''s entrance, my gaze drifted toward the open expanse beyond the fortified encampment. Memories stirred¡ªendless childhood study sessions under my father''s brutal tutelage, the relentless scrutiny of tutors, dusty old tomes of war and conquest. One battle stood out: Teutoburg Forest.

    Turning back to the council, the decision was clear. "In 9 AD, a Roman cavalry was lured into a forest and ambushed. Superior in number, skilled in battle tactics¡ªyet they were slaughtered to the last man. Caught in unfamiliar terrain, they were defenseless."

    Sir Donovan leaned forward, intrigued despite himself. "You wish to lure them into the forest?"

    A glance toward the open field outside the encampment set the stage. "Not the forest. Here." A plan formed in sharp clarity. "We''ll cut down trees, create barriers lit by fire to block their escape. Once they are within, we strike from all sides, crippling their mobility. We will force them into melee combat."

    Sir Donovan stroked his beard. "A good plan, but what if they break through?"

    "We control the battlefield," I countered. "We dictate the fight."

    A voice interrupted from the shadows. "So, you will use my plan, then?"

    All eyes snapped to the prisoner, still chained to the tent''s central pole. Ruben''s dark gaze held steady.

    Sir Donovan bristled. "Silence, dog! You''re lucky we haven''t gelded you!"

    A raised hand stopped his petty insults as I commanded, "Leave him."

    "My lady, he speaks out of turn¡ª"

    "I said leave him."

    Sir Donovan''s scowl deepened. "Why is this prisoner not rotting in a cell?"

    "Because he is more valuable to us here... Alive."

    The knight''s expression darkened as he turned on Sir Luke. "This was your doing, wasn''t it?"

    His disdain for Sir Luke had always been clear, but his hatred for Ruben burned even brighter.

    Sir Luke smirked. "You assume too much, old man."

    "Enough," I commanded. "We have a battle to prepare for."

    Sir Donovan sighed. "This plan is risky. If it fails, we lose everything."

    Sir Luke shrugged. "If we do nothing, we are doomed regardless. At least this gives us a chance."

    A flicker of memory surfaced¡ªmy father, his relentless lessons, his insistence that knowledge was the sharpest weapon of all. As much as I had loathed those lessons, now¡­ now, they made all the difference.

    "This is our plan," I declared. "We are committed, Sir Donovan, see to the preparations."

    He hesitated, then bowed. "Yes, my duchess."

    A sharp nod turned the attention to the guards. "Take the prisoner back to his cell."

    They obeyed, hauling Ruben to his feet and dragging him from the tent. Sir Donovan followed soon after, barking orders to ready the men.

    Only Sir Luke remained. He stepped forward. "A brilliant strategy, my liege. We need only follow it to the letter."

    "Interrogate the prisoner," I instructed. "Learn all you can and report back."

    Sir Luke''s expression remained firm. "It will be done." He exited without another word.

    Finally, solitude.

    A slow exhale pressed against the weight of exhaustion. "Maidens," I called. They rushed in, hands deftly unbuckling the armor that bore down on weary shoulders. The weight lifted from flesh, but not from mind.

    Rest or oversee the preparations? Sir Donovan was capable, but¡­ what would my father do?

    The answer was obvious.

    "Reassemble my armor," I ordered. "I must oversee the preparations."

 Chapter 9

    The wind howled through the trees, carrying the distant echoes of an approaching storm. Not of rain or thunder, but of hooves and steel. From the top of my fortified encampment, the waiting stretched taut, an invisible rope of war ready to snap. I stood at the edge of the crudely made wooden walls, my gaze fixed on the lone path that opened up into the field before me. The only entrance. The only escape. The trap was set, and all that remained was the enemy''s arrival.

    Raymon stood beside me, shifting on his feet. Nervous energy radiated from him, his fingers gripping the hilt of his sword tightly.

    ¡°Are you sure about this?¡± he muttered, voice low but insistent. ¡°There¡¯s still time for you to retreat to Saraqustah.¡±

    ¡°Enough,¡± I snapped, my patience worn thin. ¡°I will not hear another word of doubt.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re nineteen,¡± Raymond pressed. ¡°You have never fought a battle like this or ever. Let me lead the men.¡±

    ¡°You forget your place,¡± I said, with determination in my voice. ¡°Another word, cousin, and you will join the prisoner in a cell.¡±

    Raymond''s mouth opened, then shut. His hands clenched into fists, but he turned away, moving further down the wall. Let him stew and choke on his words. There was no room for weakness now. Then suddenly.

    A scout thundered toward the gates, his horse lathered in sweat, his back riddled with arrows. Open the gate, I said. The gate was quickly opened and shut; he bearly made it before slumping forward, nearly falling from the saddle.

    ¡°They¡¯re here,¡± he gasped. ¡°They come..... at full speed.¡±

    I looked around at the men''s faces. They were scared, so was I but I could not show it,  I dare not.

    ¡°When the Commander loses his spine all hopeless lost¡±,... my Fathers words rang in my ear.

    ¡°Hold fast,¡± I yelled out. ¡°We will not break today!¡±

    I barely had time to order my men to carry him to the infirmary before the first distant tremors of hooves reached the soles of my feet and then my ears. As I looked up out into the distance to see one soldier clad in black, his mount kicking up dust as he paused at the entrance to the field. He observed for a moment looking right back at me, atop my walls. Only one, but I hear so many, were are they I said. Sir Luke, who was standing right next to me answered. There hear, he said in a low rumble.

    Archers, I yelled out, knock!

    The single soldier went riding back out of sight. Then suddenly. Thousands of mounted horse archers wearing black came marauding towards us. Their horse hooves sounded like relentless drums against the earth. The enemy was hear.

    Loose!! I screamed. The battle had begun.

    The first volley struck home, men screamed as arrows found flesh.

    I waited. We needed every last one of the enemy inside the field before the next step of my plan could unfold. The moment the final rider crossed into the clearing, I raised my arm and gave the signal.

    Flaming arrows soared into the sky.

    Sir Donovan, waiting in the forest with his hidden forces, gave the order. Logs tumbled down the hills, crashing onto the narrow pathway, sealing the only exit. The tar-soaked wood caught fire instantly, a wall of flame cutting off any chance of retreat. The enemy was trapped.

    From the treeline, my hidden infantry surged forward, armed with pikes and shields. The horse archers, so deadly in open space, found themselves pinned in, unable to maneuver.

    More arrows rained down. A soldier beside me let out a heart wrenching cry, an arrow buried deep in his eye socket. Even in this chaos, their archers were still deadly accurate to land a shot so spot on, these were no ordinary horse archers. He toppled from the wall. I barely flinched. No time for grief. No time for anything but war.

    I reached down, grabbing the fallen man¡¯s flag¡ªthe signal to commence the final assault. Raising it high, I waved it with all my might. I saw Raymond at the side of my eye, taking cover. I snickers to myself I am the woman and I have more courage who''s not fit to rule now I thought. He should''ve left with his mother.

    An arrow struck my right shoulder. Pain ripped through me, but I refused to fall. I broke off the shaft, breath hissing through my teeth. As a archer who was hit in the chest crashed into me.

    I fell from the top of the wall onto my back. The impact knocked the wind from my lungs, but the fall wasn¡¯t far. Nothing broken. I forced myself up, gripping my injured shoulder, and turned my thoughts back to the battlefield.

    The trap had been sprung.

    Sir Donovan¡¯s men crashed into the enemy. The encampment gates stayed closed waiting to unleashing another wave of soldiers.

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    The horse archers, their mobility stolen, had no choice but to fight in close quarters. There advantage was gone. The tide was turning.

    Sir Luke appeared at my side helping me up to my feet. ¡°give me your sword Sir Luke I must join the fight.¡± I said

    ¡°No.¡± He grabbed my uninjured arm. ¡°They must see you standing, not falling. You are their strength. Stay here my lord atop the wall.¡±

    There was no time to argue, I could hear the screams of war just on the other side. I would take his council.

    Luke helped me back to my feet and up onto the wall once more, he shoved a shield in my hand. "You must be seen, high as a beacon of hope. I will help you stand¡±, Luke said frantically.

    I wanted to argue, but he was right. It took literally no time for the shield to be pumped full of arrows, some piercing straight through into my left forearm. I winced at the pain, screaming, even as Luke held me up, ensuring I did not fall. He was my spine when my spine gave way. To this day, I do not know how I managed to stay on my feet¡ªperhaps it really was Sir Luke holding me up.

    I looked around and found Raymon, still hiding like a coward or maybe he was just being smart... arrows were whistling all around his head after all.

    ¡°Raymond!

    You must lead the front charge in my stead,¡± I commanded. ¡°I must be seen for all the men; they must know their Lord has not left them.¡±

    He hesitated but ultimately obeyed without question. giving me a stern face and a nod of his head as a jolted in to action.

    ¡°Men, with me!¡± he shouted, jumping off the wall, unsheathing his sword, mustering the spirits of the men before they joined the fray.

    ¡°Don¡¯t die on me up there... my Duchess. he said sarcastically¡±

    I smiled. ¡°You don¡¯t either, cousin,¡± I rebutted, just as an arrow nearly knocked me and Luke off the wall.

    ¡°Open the front gate!¡± he yelled. The command was relayed back to the soldiers operating it.

    And just like that, all of my forces were in play. It was up to the courage of the men and God to win the day,

    The battle raged for hours I honestly lost count. After a while, no arrow struck my shield, but I still stood there Screaming andhowling out to my men not to give up, not to give in fight, fight!

    It all seemed like a blur, a bloody muddy mosh pit of bodies. The rain from yesterday made the ground even more difficult for the enemy on horseback to move. Many of them were ripped from their horses and slain.

    Then, in the midst of the carnage, a white flag rose from the middle of the enemy''s ranks. A horn sounded. They are surrendering.

    In that moment, I quickly sounded a cease to the fighting. It had happened precisely as Ruben imagined, I will only have one chance at this I said to myself.

    Blood dripped from my wounds. My shield had taken more arrows than I could count, but I remained standing, shield raised, defiance etched into every Muscle of my body. It took Sir Luke and three other soldiers to pry the shield from my forearm. They first had to pull out the arrows, which was excruciating luckily Sir Luke gave me a handkerchief to bite down on. I almost fell unconscious over the pain.

    My Duchess, a random soldier came running up. I have word from their leader he wishes to parlay. Good send him to my tent.

    Will you try for a white piece,my Duchess, said Sir Luke now is the time.

    We had fought hard for this opportunity and now fortune is finally on our side after countless lives has been spent. I cannot let their death be in vain. This invasion must come to an end one way or the other I thought.

    An Arab man wearing black robes, was being escorted towards my tent, and I, ever so mangled poked full of arrows, had to quickly fashion myself for the meeting demanding my handmaidens to quick fetch something domineering. In the end, I was quickly unarmored and changed into simple yet elegant noble clothing to match my standing as commander.

    A few moments past and the general known as

    Tariq ibn Ziyad was brought before me, walking under his own power.

    No chains.

    No force.

    I had ordered it so. He was a dignified fellow in Black robes like his men. Bearded with a scar on the left side of his chin.

    He met my gaze. So you must be the woman that was screaming above the wall. Surely it was you I see your wounds. I ordered my men to focus you down, but you never relented.

    I stayed silent as he questioned me.

    I see¡­.

    ¡°Where is Afentis? He has bested me. What is to be my fate?¡±

    I answered as sternly and clearly as possible, I must be seen as Strong now, not weak.

    ¡°Afentis is dead. I am his heir and the one who has defeated you. Please, have a seat.¡±

    His expression barely shifted, but there was a flicker of something in his eyes.

    Surprise?

    Resentment?

    Respect?

    I could not tell.

    He sat in the chair with elegance, a true Islamic noble I thought; his posture remained rigid.

    ¡°A woman,¡± he murmured. ¡°An honorable one at that. You could have killed us all.¡± Then he ask me again.

    ¡°What is to be my fate?¡±

    ¡°Mercy,¡± I said. ¡°We will have peace.¡±

    No, I cannot offer a true piece for I am under orders to conquer you.

    A white piece then, ten years I quickly interjected.

    He paused and looked at me, obviously pondering my proposition.

    ¡°Your presence on top of that wall was truly something.My men could not kill you and you would not fall.¡±

    Like an African lioness protecting her Cubs. You demoralize my men without shooting a single arrow.

    I did what I had to do to keep my men¡¯s spirits high; I said. as I did my best to not show pain reaching for a sip of wine.My wounded shoulder screamed in pain, but I hid my wincing with my cup covering most of my face.

    Can I offer you a cup of wine?

    The general nodded in agreement as my cup bearer, a young woman that was one of my handmaiden¡®s came from the side of the room with a cup and wine to fill it. He took the entire cup in one big gulp. And rest the cup on the table.

    Eight years, I cannot agree to ten it is not within my power, but eight, eight years is what I believe my master would accept. What do they call you anyway?

    My name is Justine Orwil the Duchess of Saraqustah. I replied.

    Hmmm, No you have earned a better name after today.

    The lioness of Saraqustah is more appropriate.

    I paused saying nothing.

    Eight years then and you will leave the Iberian Peninsula at once.

    Yes you have my word, may Allah bless us all.

    I will send a detachment to escort you or your men to the coast.

    Tariq seemed taken it back over my diligence.

    ¡°I should be off then;¡± he stood up, fixing his robes and bidding me farewell.

    But before he left with my guards, he turned to look at me once more, and said, your quality will be known among your enemies, wherever you meet them. Justine Orwil, The lioness of Saraqustah.

    I am the Duchess, I said.

    he simply smiled and went on his way.

    And with that, the day was won.

 Chapter 10

    It was a dance of silence that day. Men, both friend and foe, lay there on that field, adding to the sludge of that vile-begotten ground. We had won the battle, but at what cost?

    The grave units had a particularly arduous task¡ªa dreadful order from me, their newly named Lioness. The Islamic forces had already left with my detachment, leaving their dead for us to deal with. Their commander, seemingly honorable, showed a wretched and dishonorable act: abandoning the men that had bled for him.

    I treaded with a heavy heart through the mangled bodies, praying to find Sir Donovan, my master-at-arms, still alive among them.

    My cousin was still alive and well¡ªa marvel really.

    He did lead the charge from the gates into battle. I should ask the men of his gallantry to see if it truly existed on the battlefield.

    "Ahhh!! These infidels will rue the day they maimed me!" Sir Donovan screamed out in the distance.

    "I will have more of the heathens blood! More, more!" he said.

    His hysterical nature, blood boiling with anger¡ªall the while, his left eye was impaled, bleeding, with an arrow protruding from it. It was a wonder he hadn¡¯t pass out from such an injury.

    "Enough, my good man; it is done. We have won the day."

    "What!" he said, dumbfounded. "No! They left! We must seek them out and... and¡ª!"

    "They have left because I ordered it so. Calm yourself."

    "Fetch the physician! Sir Donovan must get top priority."

    "And what of my men?! Look to care for them first, my Liege! I am in shambles and not fit to serve."

    "Ahhh!" he screamed out.

    "Nonsense. Even with one eye, you are still my father¡®s man¡ªcapable and honorable. I would ask more of you."

    With his position secured in his thoughts, his bellowing subsided and turned into stern silence as his surviving soldiers hoisted him up and sent him to meet the physician.

    What a strong man Sir Donovan was, I thought.

    "My Duchess!"

    A soldier from one of the grave units called me over, bringing my attention to one of the enemy¡¯s mangled bodies. The soldier had pulled off the cloth wrapped around the dead man¡¯s head¡ªor, it was customary to call such a thing a turban¡ªand revealed the face of one of the many would-be invaders.

    "I have never seen such a man¡ªan African," said the soldier. "I¡¯ve read of them in books¡ªtheir skin the color of copper or black like the night sky. And hair coarse, not sleek like those of this region."

    These Islamic invaders have the reach of Sub-Saharan African kingdoms, I thought.

    I thanked the man for his insight and ordered the rest of the bodies to be burned to ensure no spread of disease or pestilence.

    The day carried on¡ªa day of licking wounds and bandages, a day of even more tragedy as word came to me¡­

    Sir David, my dear chancellor, passed away in his sleep from consumption. Another taken by this invisible reaper. Sir David was my father¡¯s dear friend, a true friend to the Orwil name. It seemed the more I looked around, the more people that knew my father were dying off. I wondered if I would be next if I wasn¡¯t careful.

    The day after passed, and we broke camp and headed towards Saraqustah in the early morning. Leaving Sir Donavon there his injuries were too great. On our arrival, the entire settlement met us with open arms. Word of our victory had already reached their ears. The name given to me by my enemy was hot on everyone¡¯s lips. They chanted it.

    "Lioness! Lioness! Lioness! Lioness!"

    It was far too many people to correct, so I did the natural thing and accepted the nickname. I was now the Lioness of Saraqustah¡ªwhether I wanted to be or not.

    People looked to me as their leader, a truly bewildering feeling. A few months ago, I was merely my father¡®s child, expected to marry to strengthen our forces. Now, I was the de facto ruler. The responsibility was slowly pressing down upon my shoulders with every order I gave.

    "It is a hard thing to rule, but it must be done."

    The memories of my father¡¯s words gave me some solace in the midst of the crushing weight of my position as Duchess. But I had no real time to brood before the celebration. Because just before I could truly understand the gravity of the situation, I was finally home, staring at the Orwil estate. It felt so good to be home. A huge 17,000 ft2 estate that now belonged to me. Not my brothers or close family. All of this inherited upon the death of my father. I felt the magnitude of my position truly then. What huge shoes I must fill now.

    The entirety of the Orwil service attendants stood outside over 20 of them, bowing on my approach¡ªa rendition I would do with them as a child after my father would come back from many hunting expeditions. It was a customary thing, I suppose¡­

    It took on a different meaning now. I was their savior. Shouldn¡¯t they bow to me after all?

    A man aging out of middle age, dressed in butler attire¡ªa slender man, bald with a pristinely kept goatee¡ªstood at the front of all the other attendants.

    "My Duchess, we give our sincerest apologies for your father¡¯s passing," he said, his face staring at the ground as they bowed their heads. "Please, my lady, how can we be of service?"

    I paused, gathering myself at their honorable rendition. How lucky I was, I thought. A few days ago, I was nearly defiled by bandits. Now, to be in such decadence¡­ God truly watches over me.

    "Have the maids run me a bath. I must be cleaned for tonight¡®s celebration," I commanded.

    And there, in the awning just out front of my manor, lay the sigil of the Orwil name¡ªtwo mountains and a sword in between, with green and blood-red colors making up the background.

    "A life for power."

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    Our family¡¯s words gave me pause as I walked into the estate.

    The interior of the estate was exactly how I remembered it. My father wasn¡¯t the type to make changes ever since my mother passed. The place was kept in an immaculate state, with ornamentation in the colors of my dynasty.

    The hours of preparation melted together in a blur, and soon after, I was riding in my carriage with my spymaster, Sir Luke, as we headed back into town.

    I do believe Ruben speaks truly for our sakes," Sir Luke said as he looked at the bandages on his hand, rubbing the wound ever so gently.

    "I hope you¡¯ve had a physician look at that wound. I would rather you not have to lose the hand. You are far too valuable for me to do without," I said.

    "You sound like the physician, my Duchess." He stopped his incessant pestering of his wound and continued his point. "He could have lied, and we could all be dead. I do believe such action should be rewarded."

    Sir Luke speaks well of this murderer and slave trader, I thought. If only he knew of his treachery as I did. I paused, then pondered whether or not I should tell him how I truly met the man¡­

    Him and the other one¡ªI think his name was Russ or Roof.

    "What other one, my Duchess?" Sir Luke said.

    "There was another imprisoned along with Ruben," I said. "Both of them, along with another, ambushed me and Sir Garfield¡ªand murdered him. I was there when they dug his grave somewhere out in the backcountry."

    Sir Luke was obviously taken back by this revelation¡ªit was written on his face. "No wonder Sir Garfield never showed." His eyes opened wide. "And the reason you didn¡¯t say anything was to ensure the men would stay encamped and fight for us. You are a most capable leader, my Duchess."

    "Now I must see to his fate. He has been very useful to our efforts. It would be a shame to execute such a man," I said, brooding as I stared out of the window of the carriage.

    "I agree. Since there is more to be learned and, seeing how I didn¡¯t take a brutal approach in interrogating him, he views me as a friend. This can be to our advantage," Sir Luke said, clearly intrigued by the current predicament. It was written all over his face.

    "See to his release. You will be the one to look over him. Learn what you can and report back to me. Ruben will be your responsibility. And find out whatever happened to the comrade that was imprisoned with him. When you find him, figure out what he knows about Ruben."

    "Should he be punished for his transgression to the Garfield name?"

    "No," I said solemnly. "To punish him is to admit that Sir Garfield is gone. They did a rather thorough job in dispatching his body. No one will find it. It will be easier to explain away to his family, and I do not need to be looked upon as the reason for his shortcomings."

    "Yes, my Duchess¡­"

    "It goes without saying that this must be sworn to secrecy. Tell no one of these events."

    "Secrecy is my expertise, my Duchess."

    As the carriage trotted on, we finally reached our destination: the town of Saraqustah.

    It was a lively town full of commotion, probably due to recent events. On the surface, people were truly overjoyed to be free of the invasion, but there was also something else written on their demeanor. This plague was clearly seen in the alleys and the various wagons full of dead bodies¡ªyou would think they picked up all the dead bodies from the battlefield miles away and brought them here.

    The melancholy mood had already peaked months ago, I suspected. The people needed distraction, and their lord¡¯s celebration would suffice.

    The festivities and music filled the soul with levity that day. The town square was full of people right outside the gathering hall.

    As I sat around a large table¡ªmy council¡¯s table, where my father spent his time fighting, feasting, deliberating, and plotting¡ªI was now the centerpiece of these things.

    A cupbearer came with a plate, containing somewhat familiar items known to me since birth.

    "There is a shortage of food, my Lady," one of my attendants said. "The hunting men were caught up in the battle. The problem should be solved by next week, but for now, all we have is hog and chicken."

    "That will have to be enough," I said, gesturing her to leave.

    Finally, out of the crowd came a truly familiar face.

    "Justine, you absolute mongrel¡ªI mean, my lioness," she said sarcastically as she burst through the crowd of celebrating bystanders.

    She quickly paced up to me and gave me a hug. I nearly didn¡¯t have time to meet her on my feet.

    "Christina!" I said her name with relief.

    "My God, look at you, Justine. Who would¡¯ve thought you would be your father¡¯s heir? Oh, I remember it like yesterday¡ªus playing in that corner right over there, hearing our fathers plot and scheme while we stole cakes from the kitchen and tried to light Sir Donaven¡¯s cloak on fire."

    She laughed, and I must say, I laughed for a few seconds. Then, remembering my last interaction with him, my expression soured.

    "What¡¯s wrong, Jus?"

    My eyes filled with water. "Christina, your father¡­ he¡¯s dead."

    She quickly released me and turned, hiding her expression. "I¡ªI know. I told him that if he left, he would probably die. He didn¡¯t listen. Sir Luke paid me a visit a few hours earlier to give me the news."

    "Justine, what will happen to us now? Our fathers are dead, both our mothers are dead¡­ At least Ron is still alive, right?" I said, reaching out and placing my hand on her back.

    "Ron left soon after you did. He went adventuring up north. No one has seen or heard from him since. I¡¯ve been here all alone. Olga ended up dying a couple of months ago. She was buried towards the end of spring."

    "Olga, our dear friend¡­ I must pray for her when I return to the estate."

    "We must stick together now, Justine¡ªnow more than ever," Christina said as she reached for my hand and faced me with the most solemn demeanor written on her face, clearly holding back her tears.

    "Of course. If you like, you can stay with me for as long as you need..¡±

    "Thank you," she said, hugging me again. "What are best friends for, if not for these moments? Stick by me, and I¡¯ll stick by you."

    "The friends have finally united, I see." I rolled my eyes as Raymon finally appeared. He was dressed in green and red¡ªa true Orwile attire.

    "Do you like that we match?"

    I said nothing; I just gave him an annoyed expression.

    "You look quite dashing, if I do say so myself¡ªdashing and posh." Christina said, breaking the silence. Raymon disregarded the compliment and trained his attention on me.

    "I thought you would have returned to the barony of Barcelona. After all, it was your small detachment that took the invaders to the coast."

    "They are capable without me. After all, I do have some words I must speak to you about."

    I rolled my eyes in frustration, then righted myself in front of him. Brushing him off now would be an insult. He was the son of a powerful vassal connected to my duchy, I could not deny him my ear.

    "Apologies, the day has been quite long. Maybe we can speak?"

    "It is urgent, my Duchess," Raymon said in a tone of respect, as he took a bow.

    A tense quiet reached over us in that moment.

    "Justine, please." he said.

    "All right, I will not have you beg for my ear. Christina, we will catch up later. Have my attendants know that you ride with me back to the estate and eat with me tonight."

    "Of course, my Duchess," she said, playfully curtsying before going to take her seat at the round table.

    "We can speak on the balcony upstairs," I said.

    "Perfect," he replied.

    He followed me to the balcony in silence, leaving the festivities and music below. I was the first to step onto the balcony. It truly was a crescent moon, the air brisk. Fall was just around the corner, and the weather reflected that. A quiet reached over both of us at that moment.

    I looked at Raymond then¡ªhis expression was solemn and nervous. I noticed Raymond was hiding something behind his back. Elegantly, he revealed two cups full of red wine and gestured for me to take one. I did. We both took sips and looked at each other then.

    "What is this about, Raymond?"

    He broke eye contact with me and stared out into the moon. I did the same.

    "You remember that day you dropped that whole can of milk on my head from way up here, back when I was Duke Afentis¡¯s squire?"

    I smirked and said, "How could I forget? You and my brother thought yourselves knights already. Someone had to bring you down a peg or two. Surely this isn¡¯t about that."

    "In that moment, I really thought you hated me," he confessed. "I thought you hated me all the way up until this very moment, actually."

    "I do not hate you, Raymond. After all, you are my only cousin. You¡¯re just¡­ overbearing at times."

    "Overbearing is a really nice way of putting it." He cracked a smile at the side of his face, turning to look me in the eyes. "Justine, I know we didn¡¯t always see eye to eye over the years, but I want you to know I¡¯m proud of you. You did a spectacular job leading us on the battlefield. And I did my best to honor our house."

    "What are you getting at, Raymond?" I asked inquisitively. Oddly enough, I could feel my body tense up. I thought to myself then¡ªwas he about to make me a confidant?

    Raymond took both my hands and looked me straight in the eyes.

    "Justine," he said as he got on one knee.

    "Will you marry me?"

 Chapter 11

    No, I said sternly as I ripped my hand out of his grasp. Are you mad?

    We are cousins! What would the church say of this union?

    Not only that, I do not fancy you at all. Raymon''s face winced from my verbal lashing. He stood up, seemingly trying to regain any form of dignity he still had before me.

    "It is our only hope. We must stand united against this foreign threat. We must gain more allies, and with Sir Garfield''s death, I thought¡­"

    My face was shocked to hear him unravel the truth. I only told my spymaster.

    "How did you come to hear of Sir Garfield''s death?"

    He paused. "Speak!" I commanded.

    "I took the other prisoner and tortured him for information. He told me everything I needed to know. I would''ve gotten even more information if you didn''t order Sir Luke to befriend the other one."

    "The other one is the reason why we still draw breath. It was his plan I executed. Had we treated him like a base animal, he would''ve never told us what we needed to know.And now I hear you have tortured this man. What else did he tell you?"

    I felt the rolling anger from my stomach boiling up, ready to be set free. I did what I could to hold it back. Raymon''s eyes darted back and forth across the room, looking anywhere else but my gaze. My face filled with damnation over his actions.

    "You had no right taking my prisoner to torture. He was mine to do as I saw fit." I said.

    "I was looking for an advantage so we might keep our land and protect our people," he protested, speaking over me, thinking he was in charge, doing as he liked, as he saw fit.

    "That, that right there and many others are precisely the reason why I will never marry you." Raymon rebutted, changing his tone to a softer one. "Would it be so bad marrying the likes of me? I am not vile. You are beautiful, and I am handsome. Even your best friend would love for me to choose her."

    "You are arrogant," I said, "foolhardy and conniving. If she would have such qualities in her life ruling over her, then she can have you. I will not stand in the way." The look on Raymon''s expression was one of pure anger.

    "But I can negotiate on our house''s behalf better than the likes of you. He yelled condescendingly Why would anyone listen to a mere woman?"

    I smacked him across the face there on that balcony. His tongue knew no respect; maybe a smack across the face would teach it to him, I thought.

    To be honest, the act was one born from mindless anger. It was below me. But I didn''t care¡ªhis insult, after everything I''ve done, made it seem just, to give him some inclination of pain to balance the scales of my grievances.

    "You forget who you speak to. I am your Duchess!"

    He looked back at me, his eyes piercing, his teeth clenched shut and protruding, as if I was a piece of mutton and him a dog ravenous for his meal.

    I should''ve known then what I''d done.

    "My marriage will be a bargain with an ally worthy of taking my hand in matrimony. You are my vassal. It is your duty to serve me, the house head. Remember it; the sting across your face.

    And speak no more of this marriage. We are cousins, nothing more.

    You will learn to watch your tongue, or I will have you whipped. I will weather your slights today, but this will be the last day. Leave my sight before I change my mind."

    My words were true, they were some of the truest words I ever said. Raymon left as fast as he could, muttering to himself words I could not make out.

    "One more thing," I said.

    He stopped just at the top of the stairs. Not bothering to look back, he answered,

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    "What?"

    "Bring the prisoner you''ve taken to me," I said in a menacing tone. I said

    He turned and met my eyes,

    matching my tone but far more insidious.

    "He is dead.

    I ordered his head lopped off for standing idle while you were nearly raped."

    I tried my best to not show any reaction to his unraveling of that moment. I would not give him the satisfaction of my anger¡ªnot any longer.

    "You will speak to no one of what you have uncovered. Anyone who has helped you do this atrocity command them to silence."

    "Yes, my Duchess," he said, cold and stern, as he bowed and took his leave.

    The night went on with celebration and laughter in everyone but me. I could not think of anything else but the coming years.

    Pondering: who would help me? The church? My neighboring rulers?

    Every day was of the essence. The celebration was on borrowed time, I thought¡ªbut needed all the same. Sir Luke never returned, probably off doing whatever spymasters do at this time of night, which was approaching midnight within the hour.

    And before I knew it, I was giving the feasting speech to commemorate the victory and the dead that gave their life for us to live free from Islamic rule.

    Their lioness did not disappoint. I was fiery and true that day.

    As the barrels of wine ran dry and the people had their fill, Christine and I made our way to my carriage, treading back towards the Orwil estate for the night.

    I could hardly drink alcohol like the rest of my people. I never truly had a stomach for the stuff.

    Nor could I sleep¡ªthe road too bumpy and my mind too restless. Oddly enough Christine never said a word. I thought she was drunk, but I knew that not to be the case. She was a messy drunk. I was there when she took her first sips of a wine from Ireland. Within the hour, she was slurring words, her legs hardly capable of walking. This was not the drunk Christine, but the concerned one. So concerned it forced her into silence, a rare event indeed.

    "What is on your mind? It''s as if you are now Duchess, with so much responsibility resting upon your shoulders," I said wittingly.

    The silence persisted for a while until she finally broke it¡­

    "You should''ve taken his offer. I would have," she said.

    The eavesdropping wasn''t that much of a shock to me then. After all, she was known to be an excellent eavesdropper. All my life she lurked around the corners, listening to conversation only to later gossip with me. An interesting quality she had since childhood that served up plenty of laughs along the way up until this moment.

    "Like I told him," I said, "if you want to have him rule over you, go right on ahead. I will not be in the way."

    "But he is strong and willing to rule. Why not just allow him? Let him do what needs to be done, and we can¡ª"

    "Can what?" My reaction was quick and harsh.

    I cut her off, annoyed with the ramblings of this child in woman''s form. I wondered to myself if I was this annoying a few months earlier. I couldn''t have been. I could tell my gaze made her uncomfortable.

    "What happened to you in Austria?

    You''ve changed so much," she said, concern tethered to her tone.

    "I am what war has made me, dear friend."

    "I guess the lioness title or nickname is truly you now," she said with wit.

    "I never asked for that nickname, nor did I ask for all of this responsibility. I''ve been doing the best I can since I heard the news of my father''s death. Believe it or not, my father the Duke trained me and my brother. I will not roll over and bequeath my station just because I''m a woman. I have a duty, and I will see it through¡­ and make him proud."

    I could feel that anger boiling again, deep in my stomach, climbing up to my heart. So much that I didn''t realize¡­

    Christine gently reached out to catch the tears coming from my eyes. I didn''t notice my tears.

    She took them and licked her fingers, pulling me close, embracing me with a hug I never knew I needed.

    I¡­ I should''ve cried earlier. Of course, I cried earlier, but I couldn''t truly cry. The pressure of command made me close my heart to such emotion. All that death on the battlefield¡ªall those bodies stacked up on each other in carts throughout the town¡ªit all had taken its toll on me, making my precious open loving heart cold.

    "I''m sorry, Justine," she said, whispering in my ear. I held her back and said nothing for a while. What were you even apologizing for? I wondered. It wasn''t her fault.

    The series of events.

    She moved to comfortably sit closer, reaching her arm over my shoulders, putting my head to rest on her bosom.

    I cried for real then¡­

    I stayed there in her embrace, which seemed like it was forever. My tears soaked up by her beautiful dress as I sobbed uncontrollably.

    "Sheeeh, I got you," she said. "Remember, stick by me and I''ll stick by you."

    I hugged her harder as she said my words back to me. I didn''t know how much I needed her¡ªmy, my dear friend Christine.

    The carriage came to a screeching stop, so much so that it jerked us loose from each other.

    "Are you OK?" I said, concerned by the sudden thrashing about.

    "Yes," she answered. Christine had been thrown onto the space between the seats of the carriage. The sudden shifted movement stopped my pouring tears as I wiped the rest of them from my cheeks.

    "What is the meaning of this, driver?" I said. By this time, I had already gotten up and peeked my head out of the side window.

    The sight shocked me.

    A burning carriage blocked the path. I quickly climbed down out of the carriage to see truly for myself what was going on.

    Christine, clearly shaken up, frantic over these events, tried to pull me back into the carriage.

    "Justine, please come back inside. Let the driver deal with it." Fear and dread had taken her. "It was just a burning carriage. Calm yourself. Everything will be OK." Suddenly, a black hood was pulled over my head.

    Hands strangling me from behind as I struggled. Before I could think to fight back, something blunt smashed itself into my right temple.

    And I lost consciousness¡­