Paul Kidd - The Council of Blades

"We shall return them, and we will say no more about this 'thief'-forevermore. He shall disappear into oblivion," Lady Ulia's words brought a nod from all those around her; a forest of bribes would be little enough to pay for avoiding family scandal.

"As for you, my dear: finishing school shall teach you the meaning of obedience and humility. Perhaps in a few years you will have learned the error of your ways." Ulia snapped her fingers at the guards. "Take her hence!"

Miliana needed to be half carried from the room. Her hat fell aside, and Lorenzo saw the coils of magical spell sheets hidden deep inside. He caught her hat up with a cry and tried to press it into Miliana's hands.

"Your hat!" The artist couldn't seem to make the girl take hold. "Miliana-you have to take your hat!"

"Apparently, I shan't be needing it anymore." The girl seemed as ashen as a corpse; her energy drained out before Lorenzo's eyes. Leaning forward, she brushed at the artist's cheek with a secret, tragic kiss.

"Thank you both for giving me a life-just for a little while…"

Her whisper left Lorenzo's cheek stained wet with tears. Walking quietly between her guards, Miliana allowed herself to be led away. Behind her, Tekoriikii and Lorenzo could only stand locked within the shadows of her broken heart.

"A great tragedy. A catastrophe! But one we quite expected, I am sure." Lady Ulia had found Miliana's fall from grace utterly cathartic; even the flood of rumors that would escape her net of bribes were not too great a price to pay; she would dine out upon the story until the end of time.

The future couldn't be more perfect!

Safely ensconced in the palace once more, and with her husband leading a wild hunt on the tail of Svarezi, Ulia looked forward to the continuance of the night's ceremonies.

The gift painting from Lomatra was wheeled forward into place; the nobles and courtiers gathered admiringly around for the unveiling. If the young man trundling forth the painting was wet clean through and smelled of water weed, no one thought to comment aloud; it had, after all, been a most chaotic festival.

Luccio passed the unveiling cord into Lady Ulia's hands and escaped out into the courtyard with his head held high. Sumbria's first lady gazed out in triumph at her guests, and let her words peal forth across the waiting crowd.

"We have here the work of an unknown genius-but a man who has seen fit to encapsulate the very essence of our land." The mighty lady let her bodice swell with pride. "My lords and ladies! I proudly unveil a new masterpiece entitled 'The Sea Beast Rising from the Waves'!"

The cord tugged, silken shrouds swept down, and there before the nobles, allies, and peers of Sumbria shone the risque portrait of the Lady Ulia herself.

It is said that in far nations, barbarians still speak in fear of the earthquakes caused by Lady Ulia falling to the ground in a dead faint…

Hoof beats hammered at the soggy earth, deep, heavy blows that shuddered far down into the ground. The crushing weight of war steeds bearing armored men sent a shock wave rippling out into the frosty morning air.

The Valley of Umbricci was deep enough into the cold slopes of the Akanapeaks to already feel the winter's bite. From the passes, the city of Sumbria could be seen basking under a warm autumn sun, while high above the valley, the great mountains shone with crisp new snow. Across the valley floor, the fruit trees hung heavy with the last crops of fruit, while the fields had all been shorn into stiff mats of brittle stubble. The dense-packed carpet crunched and splintered underfoot, making infantry lurch and curse as they struggled out into the open fields.

The army of Sumbria marched up through the southern pass, made its way beneath the gigantic overhanging mass of rock and ice that loomed above, and thundered through into the valley like an all-destroying wave.

It was unseasonable weather for an attack; an autumn campaign had been utterly unheard of for nigh on a hundred years. Rain might dampen bowstrings, swell the rivers, and churn the roads; snow might block the passes and bring sickness to the men. Only the most furious, impassioned warriors would stir themselves to war at such a time. Few causes couldn't wait for the long winter months to blossom bloodily into spring.

Few causes-but for the foulest insult of them all. A broken contract of peace-honor trampled, pride destroyed. At the head of the first battle of troops, Prince Cappa Mannicci waved his mace over the valley floor and angrily pushed his forces on. They had marched for a day and a night without rest, a gamble that had successfully brought them through the pass without meeting a single Colletran scout. With luck they would overrun the valley and pour down the passes into the Colletran lands beyond.

After sacking the city, Prince Mannicci would see the Sun Gem pulled from the ashes of her dead. The Colletrans had broken the rules of civilized war; in the name of that honorable law, the city of thieves must be destroyed.

The terms of peace between the cities had been cast aside; the Colletrans had reneged on their solemn word, and had sent Svarezi to steal back the Sun Gem. Now the laughingstock of the Blade Kingdoms, Sumbria had no choice but to take back its pride with the point of its sword.

The Lanze Spezzate of the Mannicci family brigades, all half-armored men on speedy horses, thundered down the track to the valley floor. Prince Mannicci watched them go and struck a fist against his saddle tree, willing his men into even greater speed.

An approaching rattle of armor made Prince Mannicci tug his horse into a turn. Blade Captain Gilberto Ilego, sheathed in his armor plate of arsenic green, drew his mount up beside his lord and gave a gracious salute.

"My prince."

"Ilego." Mannicci barely spared the man a glance, choosing instead to stare with furious intensity across the stubble fields. "Form your men up on the right of my own. I appreciate the help you have given us in trying to hunt this Svarezi down. To you I give precedence and honor in the line of battle."

"I am most grateful for your good opinion, Lord." Ilego sank slightly forward in a bow, hiding his dark, black eyes. "I shall attend to their deployment at once."

The Blade Captain turned and rode away to his own units of billmen and archers. Mannicci watched him go, gripping and regripping his own reins in armored gauntlets that shook with hate.

Hate for the Colletrans; hate for the false-hearted Svarezi, who had scorned the hospitality of the Mannicci house to carry out his city's abominable crime. Blade Captain Ilego had placed the stamp of reason upon the confused reports of the palace guard, placing guilt squarely in Svarezi's treacherous claws. For once, political differences had been set aside as the Blade Families became united as Sumbrians.

It had taken five frustrating days to bring the army up to readiness, five days too long. Mannicci glared across the fields and willed his soldiers to win through.

"My prince!"

Wings clashed and clattered as a palomino hippogriff made a dainty landing nearby. The creature stood posed with its neck bravely arched and its forefoot high, making a proud sight as its rider saluted with his bow.

"My prince, our air-scouts are engaged! The Colletran army is already through the northern pass, and is deploying into battle array."

Prince Mannicci turned cold eyes to the immaculate young scout.

"Have they prepared field fortifications? Did your sorcerers detect them tampering with the battlefield?"

"No, my liege. They move forward in attack formation at best possible speed."

"Then let them come to the slaughter!" Mannicci signaled to his heralds, waiting behind him in a row. "The army is to deploy into battle formation. All heavy cavalry is to brigade here with me." Horses turned, proud trumpets raised, and the rising challenge of the battle paean rose into the sky. Sitting square upon his golden horse, the Sumbrian prince stared in the direction of his fast-approaching enemy while behind him his soldiers transformed themselves into a single, perfect instrument of war.