Electra Rose
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SWORDPOINT DIPLOMACY CH 7
🕑 Added 2022-08-01 01:01:00 +0000 UTCRose stomped through camp with an extremely sour attitude after she parted from Kian. She had the uncomfortable feeling that she had been the one to behave badly.
Technically, he hadn’t done anything wrong by answering her questions. She had to admit that to herself. And there was nothing wrong with having clever subordinates. The fact that he understood the shape of her thoughts probably meant she wasn’t imagining a connection to him. She’d liked him from the instant she’d seen him, after all, and sought him out immediately after based on her gut assessment.
‘There is something I like about him. He’s compelling.’
That train of thought veered dangerously close to being inappropriate. She shoved the concept down and called for a meeting. The lights she’d seen in the forest were a serious concern. The fact that Etienne had apparently been noting them for days left her with a sinking feeling.
Lord Drepam was the first to arrive, dressed rather ostentatiously in a velvet dinner vest. Celestin entered the command tent so silently that she wouldn’t have known he was there if he didn’t always have an aura of unfriendliness.
She heard Duke Harrod approach a few minutes later, caught in cheerful conversation with Lady LaMott about whatever had happened at some dinner at Wintersmouth. The older woman didn’t break off in her conversation, but she favored Rose with a respectful nod before she started going on about who had scorned who. Lord Rashe was on their heels, long face dour and unamused by the conversation. The last person to slink in was a blue-eyed waif of a girl that Rose vaguely recalled was the oldest daughter of Lord Terem. She might have been even younger than Rose. She certainly wasn’t the lady of the house, so Rose didn’t know how to refer to her. Unfortunate. Etiennne would have known her name.
‘Maybe someone will say her name.’
“Good evening, everyone.” Rose started briskly. “I just returned from Prince Etienne’s camp and I have a concern to share.” She pushed on past the murmurs. “He mentioned that people had been around at night in the surrounding hills, carrying lights. When I returned, I saw torchlights myself. I would guess at least 20,” she said grimly. “And they were in the woods, much closer than Prince Etienne indicated.”
The Terem girl sucked in a deep breath. Her eyes looked even bigger somehow. Her mouth opened, but she was cut off before she got out a word.
“The Prince’s camp is much smaller than ours,” Lord Drepan mused. He touched his mustache absently. “I doubt these foreigners know what we intend to do. But even without understanding, they would see a smaller target.”
“Did you have a thought?” Rose asked, nodding to the other young woman.
She flushed. But her voice was relatively strong when she said, “If they’ve moved from the hills to the forest, that might mean an attack is imminent. They’ve gathered information, and then moved into a tactical position.”
“Well said,'' Duke Harrod agreed in a fatherly tone. “We should suppose there will be an attack. They haven’t been facing the nightly harassment that we have weathered. Do we suppose there’s a reason, or it was that we are an easier target with the visibility from the walls?”
Rose pursed her lips and looked at the gathered faces.
Celestin was the first to speak. “The enemy likely did not initially know where Prince Etienne’s encampment was, only the direction in which they marched.” His gravelly voice was a little difficult to hear. “Perhaps wherever the castle defenders are emerging from is on the wrong side of the castle to easily access that area.”
“Plausible,” Duke Harrod agreed easily. “Any other theories?”
“They might have realized that we intend to cut off their water supply,” the Terem girl suggested.
Lord Drepan scoffed.
“I do not say they have the engineering capabilities to do so themselves.” Her voice was a little irritated. “I only suggest that they may have understood our aim.”
“Plausible enough,” Duke Harrod agreed. He put a hand up for peace. “We have a certain reputation for doing the impossible.”
“My brother has less than one hundred soldiers,” Rose said. She didn’t let any emotion creep into her tone. “Many of them are less sword-arms and more adept with a compass and shovel. They would be an easier target than the enemy would assume on the basis of their numbers. The most soldiers they’ve sent was about 20. That number could do a lot of damage in the Prince’s camp.”
“Well, we must let him know,” Lady LaMott said sensibly. Her hair was fully white, but she couldn’t have been more than 60 years old. It still lent her an air of dignity as she said, “Should we send reinforcements, or go scouring to ambush our interlopers before they can ambush the Prince?”
‘She’s a loyalist,’ Rose remembered with a warm feeling in her stomach. ‘Whatever is going on, she wouldn’t be involved in undermining Etienne and I.’
She made a note of that - Lady LaMott and Lord Rashe would almost certainly not be involved in undermining her command. Maybe she should test them, or rely on them more.
"Reinforcements," Rose decided. She uncrossed her arms, and then realized she didn't remember crossing them. "Lady LaMott, could you spare 20?"
The older woman inclined her head gracefully. "Yes, my Lady. It would be my pleasure. They can leave tomorrow, by mid morning perhaps?"
"Perfect," Duke Harrod said cheerfully.
'Why is he that happy about it? Does he want her gone, or just want this resolved quickly?'
Rose shot him a suspicious glance, but there was nothing to say. The meeting was adjourned. The next morning, she watched Lady LaMott actually go off at the head of her little troop, promising to keep Etienne company.
'Keep him in line, more like,' Rose thought with a smirk. 'I hope he actually got around to setting up a nice table.'
She couldn't escape that, now that so many nobles had arrived. She took her noon meal with the generals and nobility. She kept an eye out for Kian, but he was nowhere to be seen.
'Is he avoiding me? He's always been easy to find before now.'
The thought left a bad taste in her mouth. It made her feel a little ashamed, if she was honest with herself.
'If I was a minor noble with no title or protection… and a princess was annoyed with me… I'd lie low, too. He's probably regretting being honest with me. But he was right.'
It crossed her mind that Duke Harrod would know how to find him. If she asked, he'd be able to send Kian to her. But it seemed like a shit way to start an apology. It would probably give the Duke something to punish Kian for.
She tried not to sulk too much and went about her day. There was an issue with the rations to resolve- something must have been miscounted, because the beer didn't line up with what she knew had been provided.
"Please recount." Rose handed the vellum back to the same poor woman who had curtsied the other day. "If the number doesn't line up with this, come tell me immediately."
"Yes, my Lady." Her curtsey was a little better this time. She swooshed out her mud speckled blue skirts behind her. When she ducked her head, her dull reddish hair fell forward to cover her face.
"What's your name?" Rose asked, making an effort to fix those narrow eyebrows and slightly broad nose in her memory.
The woman flushed apple red. "Miette. Ma'am."
Rose nodded, trying to make a connection between the name and the face. "Thank you, Miette."
She went to her tent and did maintenance on her equipment, and then wrote letters. Around 4, her guard cleared his throat.
"A messenger has arrived from Prince Etienne's camp."
Rose looked up and set down her quill. "Send them in." She folded her hands on her lap and fixed her full attention on the middle-aged woman who entered. Her face was smeared with dirt and sweat. Her helmet was held under one arm, revealing that her hair wasn't braided back, it had been cut very short.
"My Lady." She said in a brusque, businesslike tone. Her bow was just as perfunctory.
"Thank you. Are you relaying something from Prince Etienne?" Rose felt her heart thud. She kept the excitement off of her face.
'He messaged so quickly. Maybe he's agreed to my plan.'
"Yes, My Lady," she said stoutly. She pulled an envelope out of her hip satchel. It had the blue wax that Etienne favored. "I'm told to wait for a response."
"You may wait in the mess tent," Rose offered. "Return by the next bell."
The messenger nearly smiled before she controlled herself. She bowed again, excused herself, and then was out of Rose's tent.
She tore open Etienne’s letter, disregarding the letter opener on her desk. She unfolded it in excitement and held it up in front of her face.
You may have the right of it. Send your man, so we can check the timing. I’ll send him back with engineers for the grates. If I’m allowed to go with you, I’ll leave with them as well, and have the formidable Lady LaMott take charge of this camp. Thank you for sending her, by the by.
All my love,
Etienne
Rose grinned so hard that her face hurt a little. “I need to find Kian,” she said aloud. There really was no one else she trusted for this. She glanced at the opening to her tent, where the messenger should come back within 40 minutes.
…She’d have to hurry. She went out the entrance at a jog and started scouring the camp for a shock of silver hair and the green of Harrod’s livery.
