Tanya's Third Life as a Barbarian Queen, Chapter LII

I will have the chapter as links to download at the bottom of the post. As well as a link to the Google Document page.

Saderan Encampment, South of the Kontia River

Diablo, Crown Prince of Sadera

The Palace had been damaged during the Wyvern Knight attack, but it would be difficult to tell for anyone unused to the interior of the Governor's Estate turned center of Lepus power. On some walls tapestries were gone, in some corners there was no furniture and some of the windows had been boarded up after the glass pains had been shattered. But the bones of the Palace, the marble shipped across the Empire had been cleaned, and remained as sturdy as ever. In places where wyvern fire had directly struck the building, the damaged marble had been sanded away.

I had expected many things with an Imperial City in the hands of barbarians who had no great examples of architecture in all of their history. But to the great shame of Humanity, the Lepus under Tanya had been quite able to maintain and repair the city and had even begun to build their own structures outside of the walls using the hundreds of thousands of bricks and tons of charcoal that the captive Legion was making.

I felt an odd sense of unease as I concluded that Tanya, as fair and reasonable as she was, had to die or Sadera was in grave danger. It simply could not be allowed that a demihuman race was possessed of a mind such as hers. 

“It is good to see you in good health Prince Diabo.” I offered a polite smile at High Queen Tanya’s words. She was unerringly polite and while she did not hold to Saderan etiquette she had her own standards. 

“You as well High Queen.” I replied offering a hand that she took in Tanaoi fashion. “I came as soon as I heard.” A white lie at most, I had spent some time struggling to control the utter fury that threatened to make me ill. A Wyvern Knight, the man stupid enough to approach my encampment openly, in full view of the Lepus holding the settlement just half a dozen miles away. Word had reached me slowly and High Queen Tanya had found out first that my Equitate encampment was hosting a Wyvern Knight.

“It has caused quite a stir, I had to restrain several of my warriors from attempting to cross the river with cannon.” She shook her head before taking a seat at a table. “The outrage of my people is justified of course, to be attacked during peace negotiations is intolerable.” I schooled my features as she opened up our conversation by taking control. There was little I could do from this position and without seeing a way to wrestle back control I merely played for time.

“I am grateful for your commitment to the pursuit of peace, I did not expect a Knight had survived the attack nor that he would stay long enough to identify my banner and present himself.” Honestly, why would he do that? It stood to reason that after his failed attack he would return to his order and deny it had ever taken place. There were hundreds of Wyvern Knights, it would have been impossible to say who specifically had taken part in the attack.

Now that he had exposed himself the Lepus would soon have a name, someone living they could demand be held accountable for his crime. Sadera was very likely going to lose another Wyvern Knight before conflict with the Lepus could resume. If Tanya demanded I hand him over to them, for the sake of the tens of thousands of Legionaries how could I refuse?

“Of course since we now have a Wyvern Knight at your disposal, we can adjust the timetable for our peace talks.” I blinked as a wide and vicious smile spread across the High Queens face. 

It had not occurred to me that she would seek to accelerate the peace talks, with the Wyvern Knight it was true that missives could be sent to and from Sadera at a much greater speed. Was she willing to let one of the most vital Saderan assets survive... regardless, the chance to preserve that asset, even a foolish asset, must be taken for the sake of Sadera.

“Of course, having a Wyvern Knight at our disposal will allow us to confer with the Senate and bring this whole unfortunate mess to a close.” Perhaps this was too soon. It would take more than a year for a Legion to be assembled again, but from what I had seen the Lepus were just as unprepared to deploy their forces as Sadera was. I did not see how either of our nations could muster for war in the coming summer, if peace talks were concluded during the winter months there would be a mad rush in the next year as both of our peoples prepared for the next war.

Would that benefit Sadera? Perhaps I had to slow down the tempo of negotiations. 

“Indeed.” Tanya replied and produced a letter. It was thick, wrapped in cord and sealed with a pale blue wax that seemed to glitter in the candlelight. “In the interest of peace, I have prepared a message for your Senate, it is to be read out directly to them. I am sure that you have your own messages to send back to Sadera.” I smiled at her while cursing inwardly. Her moves in this conversation had been blunt, forward but not without grace. I could think of countless things that could be in that letter that would be disastrous if the Senate heard them. 

“Of course, in return for passing on this message, I would ask that I be given one of the Centenarians from the Ninth Legion to join the Wyvern Knight, there is no better man to inform Senate of your benevolent treatment of the Ninth Legion then one who has experienced such treatment firsthand. I believe it would represent an ironclad display of your commitment to peace” I was in a weak position, but I made the play regardless and for a moment I noticed the mask crack. 

A frown, tensing of her lips, a shift in her jew as she clenched her teeth, then it was gone.

“That would be acceptable.” She replied quickly and I took the letter.

“Thank you, High Queen, to peace.” I took a cup of wine and lifted it to the air as Tanya mirrored my motions.

It was a slim victory, but a victory never the less. 

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Propter, Imperial city two hundred miles South East of Sadera.

Godasen Graci, Imperial Senator, General and Master Mage

Whispers of what had befallen the Ninth Legion had propagated across the Empire at a rate that bordered on the impossible. Just weeks ago I had led the survivors from Kontia to the Augustine Wall and since that time there had not been a city, town, village or even petty farmstead we had passed though that was not whispering of the terrors of the far flung ‘Undefeated Lepus Tribe’.

There was a sort of playful taboo about the rumours that spread like a plague, people felt comfortable, at ease with the news that Zorzals war had not been conducted quite so successfully, was not quite so glorious, that in fact it was still going on at this very moment.

Such whispers were tolerated, even partaken in by officials and governors, why would they bother to quell such speculation? After all, the great rapacious warriors of the Steppe were clad in irons and had been marched to Italica to work the fields of the Empire. So what if some of their number, some petty tribe continued to resist? It was exciting, interesting, a form of entertainment as hundreds of thousands of people down to the lowest of slaves and plebeians to discuss ‘the war’. 

It was distant to them, the horrors suffered were something endured by other people thus the bloodletting and the intolerable things that happened afterwards merely became intertwined with this novel gossip. I had stayed in the household of a wealthy merchant for a night only for their entire family to needle me endlessly asking about battles that had left thousands dead and crippled, to ask with repugnant interest about good Saderan men being used as breeding stock for the monstrous horde. 

My countrymen were not taking the situation seriously. I had been nearly driven to wroth as the patriarch of said merchant clan, a fat and balding specimen, took the opportunity to explain to me how a war he knew near nothing about should be conducted. I had bit my tongue as a man that had never so much as seen spellcraft at work saw fit to lecture me as to the necessity of incorporating mages into legions. 

He was correct that it had to be done but he was wrong about why! He was making up half the spells he assured me would be adopted by the Legions in the next ten years!

Ignorance, total ignorance was the domain of the common man and it was ignorance that they shared with each other, a growing cataclysm of total misunderstanding of fundamental reality that would morph into civilisational delusion. It was these willfully ignorant fools that I had to save from the death that was approaching. 

I had to get to Rondal, as soon as possible. A circle of mages had to be assembled to deal with the problem that the Tanaoi Witch Queen represented. 

I looked out at the vast Graci estate, some miles from the city of Proptor. A huge vineyard tended to by thousands of slaves dominated by a palace built more than a thousand years ago. Memories of a distant youth spent in this blissful place prayed upon me but I steeled myself, I could not linger here for long.

I glanced back at what had become my retinue over the last month of the survivors of the Ninth Legion and the people of Kontia, only fifty men had remained with me. The rest had melted away into the heartland or continued on to Sadera itself. I saw to it that the men were hosted in the village overlooked by my ancestral home before I made my way up the winding path towards the estate proper.

I entered my home to find a dreary and dark atmosphere. Servants and slaves lined the walls and looked at me with concern as I suddenly felt the weight of years upon my shoulders, echos of a childhood half forgotten whispering into my ears. 

“Father.” I saw my daughter at last, pale and listless even if her hair, her dress was perfect. It was good that her servants were tending to the woman.

“Marsilla, this is quite the welcome.” I deadpanned. “I have spent many months on campaign and on the road and you have not even prepared a chair for your father.” Her face contorted with rage and I knew that the whispers of the Ninth Legion being captured had reached her.

“Where is my son, my husband?” She demanded, I glanced around the room and found the attendants of my house could not meet my gaze. I sighed and met my daughter's eyes.

“If we are fortunate they are captives of the Headhunting Rabbits. But it is likely they have both perished.” I watched as my words seemed to strike the woman like a physical blow, her strength failed her and a pair of slavegirls grabbed their mistress before she could fall to the ground.

I stood, my body aching from age and the rigor of travel as the girl screamed, struggling to breathe as her body convulsed as she shreaked, her hands clutching at her faintly greying hair and ripping it from her scalp as servants rushed to her side to stop the foolish girl from injuring herself.

“There are hundreds of thousands of women who have lost their sons, their brothers and husbands, yet they do not debase themselves as you do.” I said as I made my way into my home.

“Why!? My boy!” She screamed and slammed her fists into the marble floor making them bleed. “Why did you come back?! WHY DID YOU COME BACK WITHOUT MY SON!” She screamed at me as I turned to my hysteric daughter.

“I came back because I must go to Rondal, if I am to save Sadera I must ass-”

“TO HELL WITH SADERA!” The woman screamed, standing up and opening her mouth to prattle more nonsense.

I stuck the girl across the face, taking no pleasure in the act.

“Watch your tongue girl, my patience with your womanly hysterics has its limit, the fate of humanity itself is more important than any person, any family.” I told the woman as she looked up at me in shock, clutching her quickly swelling face.

“Get out.” She said.

“This is my ho-”

“GET OUT!” She screamed, my attempt at correcting her behavior clearly a failure.

“I will not be told what to do by a woman.” I snapped only to notice the slaves regarding me with dark expressions, I looked around and failed to find the loyalty I was owed as a Graci.

“Master, it would be best if you would leave.” A groundsman of all things spoke up to me, his clothes still marred by earth.

“I am here for my spellbooks!” I protested, several maids turned and made their way to the Library as my delusionally hysterical daughter cried in the arms of lowly servants. A repugnant debasement of our noble lineage. I attempted to make my way into my home only for slaves to block my path. I set my jaw in fury as the maids returned with books and carried them to the door.

“What are you doing?!” I demanded, rushing forwards as the stupid girls threw the priceless works out of the estate and to the ground outside. “STOP YOU FOOLS!” I pushed past the girls and hurried down the steps to inspect the books, falling to my knees in the mud. My hands shook as I carefully piled the tomes and ran my fingers across the nicks and tears they had suffered.

The only hope for humanities salvation and they were thrown by careless ungrateful fools. I turned about to berate the slaves only for the doors of my estate to slam behind me. I stood dumbfounded for a moment, confusion, rage, indignity. All faded before a total resolve to do what must be done.

They would not understand, could never understand, they would condemn me for my purity of vision, but in the end I would save mankind. I hunched over my precious books and carried them to a cart left outside of my home and took a pair of fresh horses from the stable.

It would have been indulgent to rest here anyway, I mused as I left my home and returned to the few men who remained loyal to me.

Rondal, nothing else mattered, I had to get to Rondal. 

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It's easy to delude yourself into thinking that nothing else matters but the cause you are fighting for. It can turn you cold and inhuman and it ultimately harms your cause.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1VZ8_XxKF2xQG9m1AOxOzl6bIB74wfSPtfV1zPMuHl_s/edit?tab=t.0