“Ursus, welcome back,” Minerva said with a rare smile as Leon, Alix, and Valeria walked into the castle’s audience chamber. “I’m happy that you’re safe.”

“As am I, Dame Minerva,” Leon replied, but when he pictured the reaction Elise might have if she heard him say that, he quickly put on a wry smile and continued, “It’s good to see all of you. How’s the situation here?”

“Well enough,” Roland said.

“They’ve assaulted our walls five times in the past week, and five times we’ve turned them away with nothing but blood and corpses to show for their efforts!” Brimstone loudly boasted.

“We’ve taken casualties of our own, though,” Minerva added. “We’ve lost almost a thousand knights either to death or to injuries too debilitating to heal in the field. How about you? Since you’re here and so clearly calm, should we assume that the army that was moving to flank us has been dealt with?”

“It has been,” Leon said. “It cost us fifty lives, but we slowed the army of nobles down enough for the 7th Legion to arrive in time to stop them from reaching the walls of Ironford. When the Legion soldiers showed up behind them, their commander surrendered. I’d estimate we killed more than a thousand in the course of our resistance, most of them nobles.”

“Who was leading their army?” Minerva asked.

“The Count of Tarsus, but one of the sons of the Duke of Lentia took over after we killed him,” Leon said.

“… Wait, you killed the Count of Tarsus?” Roland asked in shock.

“We did…” Leon said with a smile of pride.

Minerva and the Paladins then demanded a more detailed report, which Leon furnished them with.

“… and the Legate and I accepted Sir Tullius’ surrender. The 7th stayed behind to hold the valley while I and the rest of those with me came back here.”

“And Sir Adalgrim? Why didn’t he accompany you here?” Minerva asked.

“He’s waiting with everyone else at the camp gates. The knights on guard won’t let them go far into the camp without an escort until someone comes to verify their identities…” Leon said.

“Paranoid asshats…” Brimstone muttered, though no one else spoke too ill of the guards. They were only doing their jobs, after all, even if these strict procedures were inconvenient.

“That’s quite the story,” Roland said. “If it were anyone else, I’d consider accusing them of exaggerating or falsely boasting to raise their prestige, but in your case, I don’t think that’s something you’d do.”

“… Thank you,” Leon said with no small amount of awkwardness.

“To think that Tarsus is dead…” Minerva murmured. “That in itself will weaken Octavius more than the loss of the flanking army. Tarsus was the wealthiest noble in the Central Territories, and without him, Octavius loses a great deal of pull with the minor nobility in that region. Especially so now when the Legions have been sent east to pursue us. I would guess it’s likely that if August did decide to ransom these nobles back to their families, at least a few won’t be returning to fight for Octavius.”

“Mm,” Brimstone grunted in agreement, though he was a little more vitriolic about Tarsus’ death. “That worthless sack of dreck coasted through life on his mother’s fortune. He thought that made him great, so much so that he once tried to court my cousin so that their children would have not only his County but also our Duchy as well. Fortunately, Attia saw through him as clearly as if he were made of glass. Shit-stained glass.”

“Damn, tell us how you really feel,” Roland sarcastically muttered with an amused smile on his handsome features.

“We can consider the southern approach secure,” Minerva said, drawing their attention back to the matter at hand. “The 7th will hold the valleys, and once all the noble retainers that make up that army disperse, I don’t think we’ll need to worry about attacks coming from that direction for a while. Now, all we have to worry about are the two Legions on our doorstep.”

Leon glanced at Minerva in the hopes of getting some kind of quick briefing to catch him up to speed, and he was in luck for that’s exactly what Minerva had in mind.

“They’re being led by the Central Consul himself,” she explained to him. “He tried to negotiate with us on the first day, but it was fairly clear that he was just buying time. He strutted around like a peacock in mating season, then returned to his camp and ordered an attack on our fortifications. We barely held them off, and in the end, the pass itself saved us; they couldn’t bring all of their forces down upon us, and we held them back.”

“That’s impressive considering I didn’t see many Legion shields down there,” Leon said. “How did you hold off the shield walls?”

“We were fighting from an elevated position,” Roland said. “We raised an earthen rampart to prevent the shield walls from coming into range, leaving us to contend with only the mages that were powerful enough to jump or climb up.”

“That… doesn’t sound too difficult on their end…” Leon whispered as he thought about how he would’ve handled an assault like that. The rampart couldn’t have been too high, perhaps only a foot or two taller than the average man. The contested climb would’ve been difficult, but if the Legates and other sixth-tier mages were able to push the Augustine forces back even just a few feet, then their followers could’ve made the climb and assembled into a thin shield wall. At that point, it would’ve become nearly impossible to hold them back in the confines of the pass.

“It was hard fighting,” Minerva admitted, “and most of the casualties we’ve taken in the past week were during that first assault. Still, we held them back and survived to further fortify our position—”

“—And sent our enemies back bloody and with browned trousers!” Brimstone smirkingly added as he practically flexed out of his shirt from the excitement of reliving the battle.

“Yes. We did that. That happened,” Minerva drily replied, putting Brimstone in her steely gaze and silently daring him to interrupt her again. He may have been a seventh-tier Paladin, but she was indisputably the most powerful person in the room, for it was through her that August retained the loyalty of the eastern Legions.

Naturally, he gave her an apologetic look and quieted down.

“They made two more conventional assaults in the days that followed,” Minerva continued, “both of which were repulsed at great cost to them. Our fortifications continued, in between assaults, meaning that every time they came, we were in a better position to respond. Their tactics didn’t start to adapt until the fourth assault when they brought out a few siege engines that they had been working on. They hit the wall with a few shots from a trebuchet, but it was clear enough that they didn’t come anticipating this kind of siege, as they simply fired stones at us rather than anything more magical.”

Leon cocked an eyebrow at that revelation. He figured if they were coming with the expectation of laying siege of Ironford, then they would’ve brought something more substantial to fire from trebuchets so that they weren’t relying on mundane stones.

“These stones did have some effect, as our walls were hurriedly constructed and not magically reinforced, but we held anyway. We turned them back again. The fifth time, however, they tried building a huge siege ramp to surmount our walls, but again, we held long enough for our own earth mages to tunnel beneath and cause it to collapse with at least an entire battalion upon it.”

“Impressive,” Leon whispered appreciatively.

“It was, but it seems to have clued our foe into the fact that our walls haven’t been enchanted to prevent tunneling. Some of our earth mages on watch have reported strange sensations coming from below, which they believe is the Central Consul’s attempts to tunnel beneath our walls. They’ve been trying to secure the earth beneath our feet, but we’re still operating under the belief that the next assault will be coming from down below.”

Leon nodded in understanding. “Sounds reasonable,” he said, though it did bring up the question with him of why, if they had earth mages capable of digging tunnels, they didn’t simply use said earth mages to cut a set of stairs into the cliffs a few dozen miles to the north, move one of their Legions up there, and then assault the castle from the north.

But before he began trying to poke holes or criticize the battle plans of a Consul, he had a couple more questions.

“What about the 3rd Legion?” he asked. “They were closer to the Iron Road than the 7th was to the valley, weren’t they? Did they arrive in time?”

“Sort of,” Roland said. “I asked them to remain in the north. We have about three thousand people here capable of fighting, while the 3rd has twenty thousand. The combined 1st and 4th out there have roughly thirty to thirty-five thousand. We’re not confident in our ability to attack them directly, so the 3rd is staying in the north.”

Leon nodded, suddenly understanding why the Consul wasn’t trying to maneuver around to the north with his earth mages—if he did, he’d have to split his forces up in order to properly guard them against the 3rd, and even then, their construction would be contested. It was dangerous and likely to fail.

“So… what do we do now?” he asked.

“We wait,” Minerva answered. “We have other Legions coming from around the Eastern Territories, and we think it’s almost guaranteed that they have additional reinforcements coming from around the Kingdom, too. What happens next will depend mostly on who gets their reinforcements first. If we defeat this army here and have a significant number of soldiers, it’s possible that we can move on the capital within a matter of weeks. I wouldn’t hold out much hope for that, though, Octavius has been amassing troops for longer than we’ve been, so I would wager that reinforcements will reach him in the capital before they reach us here.

“As for more immediate concerns, the Central Consul is used to us sitting here and waiting for him to come to us, and that has made him complacent. Their camp isn’t as well-fortified as it should be, so if we gain another Legion-worth of knights, men-at-arms, soldiers, or whoever, then I think we can take them in a straight attack.”

“So, the time for holding back has ended?” Leon asked, his eyes seeming to almost light up in glee as soon as Minerva mentioned that their enemy’s camp wasn’t that well-fortified.

Minerva’s sharp features bent in a long frown. “I wouldn’t exactly call what we’ve been doing ‘holding back’, but at this point, I think that we can set aside notions of kinship. Too many people have died on both sides for there to be anything like what happened with you and the 2nd Legion.”

“Speaking of…” Leon said, “any news on their status? I figured that the 2nd would’ve joined the 1st and 4th in marching east, and yet they’re absent. What gives?”

Roland answered with a thoughtful look, “From what we’ve been able to tell—and to be honest, we don’t have many friends left in the capital so we can’t tell much—Sir Arellius has been formally reprimanded and his command of the Legion was rescinded. Without a Legate to lead them, the 2nd has replaced the 1st as the Legion that’s holding down the capital. They don’t seem too happy with what Octavius did in removing their commander, and the Legion’s command staff has threatened to resign their commissions if Arellius isn’t reinstated. Apparently not assigning a new Legate to them while he figures out what to do is Octavius’ idea of a compromise.”

“Any possibility that we can get Arellius on our side?” Leon curiously asked.

“Maybe… I’ve only ever met the man in passing and he doesn’t have that long of a career, relatively speaking, so neither does he have much of a reputation… I don’t know him well enough to say,” Minerva replied, with both Roland and Brimstone nodding in agreement.

“He’s a new Legate, but he was given command of the 2nd Legion, one of the oldest and most prestigious posts in the Royal Legions?” Leon asked with some skepticism.

“He’s from a family of influential Counts in the Southern Territories,” Minerva said.

“Ah,” Leon replied. “It was a political appointment. Well, whatever. He seemed earnest and honest enough when we fought, he just believes the Assembly’s verdict is legitimate. If we can convince him that the trial was rigged, then maybe we can gain another Legion.”

“I’ll look into it,” Minerva said. “Is there anything else, Ursus?”

“Nothing that can’t wait,” Leon said.

“Good. Then get some rest and clean yourself up!”

Leon smiled as he looked down at his filthy clothing—a week out in the wilds wasn’t conducive to good hygiene, though his water magic had done quite a bit to keep him from stinking of blood and dried sweat.

“What about everyone else?” Leon asked.

“I’ll send someone down to get them access to the camp. For now, just wait for further instructions, but be ready for an attack. I’m sure that whatever the Central Consul is planning will kick off sooner rather than later.”

“Got it,” Leon said, and he and his two subordinate knights left. Minerva’s people arranged for some sleeping quarters to be allocated to them, room set aside for Anzu in the stables, and gave Lapis permission to stand guard outside Leon’s window like a massive stone statue. True to her word, Minerva quickly sent some people down to fetch Grim and the rest of the people who’d followed Leon into the valley, and quarters were set aside for all of them, though they slept mostly in the camp in the pass rather than in the castle.

Everyone bathed and got into clean clothes, and then did exactly what Minerva said to do: rest and wait for the Central Consul to launch his next attack.

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