Chapter 18: A Thin Line Pt. 1

Another day has come and still no word from A.R.T.E.R.I.U.S. It has been almost a week now, when he instructed Eferail to bring the message to the Principalia. He sternly told him not to give it to anyone else but the First Prince, Arterius.

Now, he worries if his letter would ever arrive there in time before House Bieroff finds out about the current hidden treasure their mine has. He feared that if they found out about it, they might consider taking it all for themselves and leave the Principalia to their knees.

He wished it wasn't the case, but with what he just witnessed in Arenfall Castle, his fears might not be far from fleshing into reality. Lady Adrena Bieroff is the younger sister of Senator Marcus Lucresia, one of the most influential senators of the Principalia. Their family held a lot of supporters from the Auxilliary states and with that influence, along with House Bieroff's greed, it could turn ugly.

They might stage a rebellion, House Bieroff and House Lucresia might join forces and over throw the Imperatur and usurp the throne. But the worst could go to a civil war, if these two houses couldn't agree on who should ever be placed in the throne. They might end up ripping the Principalia into a long term power struggle and blood shed, which he doesn't want to happen.

He shook that thought off his mind and began the day with washing his face with cool water before taking a sip of that leaf concoction which Mnemsiel would prepare for him early in the morning. The concoction had an earthy aroma with a dash of mint. He took another sip of it as he went outside his tent, trying to welcome the morning sun and hopefully provide him with some luck today.

" Good day M'lord!" A knight from the Bieroff house greeted him. " Lady Bieroff, sent this letter to you," the knight handed over the letter sealed in wax, with the House Bieroff's sigil-- a crow perching a dead tree.

" The lady said you read this and reply in haste," the knight demanded.

Lord Prestonheim tried his best to hide his anger. The knight's audacity was unwarranted, but then again, he can't blame the messenger. He broke the seal and read the letter with one hand, while sipping his drink in the other.

[ Lord Prestonheim,

Greetings of peace to you!

It has been a few days and you are yet to provide us with your promise. I don't have to tell you again the consequence if you just ignore our request. We demand justice for my husband's death, and we will get it either from you, or from the Principalia.

I hope you chose well.

Your friend,

Lady Adrena Bieroff ]

He wanted to tear the letter in front of the knight and ask him to depart. But, he knew how thin the ice his treading right now. He knew his next outburst might just end him and the rest of his house.

He nodded to the knight, " I shall reply to her shortly. Can you deliver the letter back?"

" I'm afraid I cannot my Lord," the knight shrugged his shoulders. " The Lady specifically wanted you to deliver the heads today."

" What?!" Lord Prestonheim still tried his best to control his anger. His body shook in rage. He tried controlling it the best he can. But, his clenched jaw and dilated eyes gave it away.

The knight stepped back, away from Lord Prestonheim's palpable rage. Although the Lady told him to stand his ground against the Commander of the 5th Batallion, he was still afraid for his life. Lord Prestonheim is a battle-hardened man. The knight knows to well how fast his hands can draw a sword. He doesn't want to be at the receiving end of it.

Lord Prestonheim's threw away the cup in a fit of rage and grabbed the knight by the collar of his armor.

" Tell Lady Bieroff, that the heads will be delivered by tomorrow."

" She wants it today, m'Lord. Not tomorrow."

Lord Prestonheim really wanted to hit the knight's smug face, but chose to calm himself down and simply talk to him with reason.

" I will deliver it myself before this day ends." Lord Prestonheim sighed.

" Good choice m'Lord!" The knight cracked an audacious smile. " I shall bare witness to it, as what my Lady demands."

" Very well, now get out of my sight!" Lord Prestonheim's voice trembled in anger.

Lord Prestonheim nods at him and quickly entered his tent. His tightly clenched fist struck the wooden table so hard, it left a gaping hole where his punch landed. He sat at the foot of his bed and massaged his temples.

Unfortunately, Mnemsiel's tea, wasn't good enough to save him from this day's unwelcomed situation. Lord Prestonheim is in a quandary. The slaves that Lady Bieroff wanted dead are the same slaves that would lead him to Principalia's complete domination of the world. He knew that if he won't deliver his promise, the consequence is going to be worse than just him losing his head.

His mind fought his urge to cower and let Lady Bieroff had her way. He won't accept that! He can't accept that! Lord Prestonheim is a man that wouldn't let the injustice stand. The slaves are innocent, and he knows it.

But what would he do to appease the grieving, crazed Lady Bieroff? He had to clear his head before making the decision. He draped on his armor and decided to ride his horse into the open, to help him with his thoughts.

Just as soon as he got out of his tent, Tristam greeted him.

" My Lord, the letter is not as burdensome as we might have hope." Tristam said feeling worried for his Commander.

" It really doesn't matter, Ser Tristam, whether we find it good or not, at some point it will become burdensome." Lord Prestonheim sighed.

Tristam's shoulders dropped in disappointment. Lord Prestonheim could sense that his men might have known already the contents of the letter just by his reaction earlier. He didn't want his men to feel that way. The worrying should be done by the head-- the Commanding General.

Lord Prestonheim tried his best to divert his knight's attention to something else.

" Good ser, why did you come for me?"

" Ah, Yes! Lord Prestonheim, a wagon containing a decura of slaves is on its way. One of our surveymen had just reported it earlier."

" How far are they?"

" About three ildwyrms from here."

Lord Prestonheim knew that it wouldn't take that long for the wagon to arrive at the mines. Suddenly an idea sparked his mind.

" Do you have a list of those inside the wagon?" He asked Tristam.

" Yes, My Lord."

" Good let me see it."

Lord Prestonheim read the list and realized how desperate he had become. He closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose, to comfort his throbbing head.

" Good. Tell me when they arrive," he instructed the young knight. " And bring these slaves to me." He pointed at the ones on the list.

After their conversation, Lord Prestonheim changed his mind about riding to the great outdoors. Instead he decided to go back inside the tent, left with thoughts and the harrowing answer he had came up with.

He stared intently at the Banner of the Principalia. Looking at the sigil of the Imperatur and his people, he tried to make sense of the decision he chose.

He felt the bitter aftertaste of his plan, that his stomach began to turn just by the very thought of it. But he's doing this for his beloved Principalia, and with that, no cost is too great for the glory of his motherland.

He took the banner by his hand and spread it from its pole before kissing it, pledging his loyalty to his country.

" Quia ad Principalia, non refert sumptus!"

Lord Prestonheim, read the words in the banner before giving it a salute, offering his full heart and soul to his county--no matter the cost.