Horizon of War Series

Chapter 186: Haywire

Haywire

Elandia

Sagarius had finished placing the third and final ward at the back of their encampment. With Sir Munius as her escort, she headed toward the area where the ministers' group spent the night. They had better tents along with several carts guarded by armed men. Yet, the guards kept their distance, allowing Sagarius some privacy.

"Gratitude for the hospitality," Sagarius expressed as the old gentleman offered her a fragrant tea. She sipped it gracefully before muttering, "Bergamot and black tea, how quaint."

Her reaction was kindly received by the old gentleman, who smiled warmly, his full beard parting to reveal a friendly grin. "I'm glad to meet someone who knows their tea. And I do apologize that I only have morning tea to offer."

Sagarius smiled. "Please, in times like these, any tea is good tea."

The two did not immediately delve into business but spent some time enjoying the tea, the crackling campfire, and the night sky. It was peaceful, as Sagarius had tuned her magic to shield them from insects.

"I heard your group isn't heading to South Elandia anymore?" the old gentleman broached the subject.

"Indeed, we have learned enough about Lord Bengrieve. He's not who I thought he was," Sagarius confirmed.

"Perhaps so," Sagarius played along.

Caressing his beard, the man spoke, "There are new developments in this land. The people I've met say that Lord Bengrieve's men are everywhere. Even in his absence, his couriers and messengers are riding almost everywhere."

"He must be busy, preparing for something," Sagarius remarked.

"He's persuading the people," he revealed, catching Sagarius' interest. He continued, "Rumors have it that he said: The end of the Imperium does not spell our end. Together, we must unite to stem the tide that threatens to wash away our Houses."

Sagarius, staring at the fire as she pondered, finally asked, "Are his words effective?"

"Given the hopelessness and lack of guidance in the situation, I believe his pitch should be effective. I've heard that more and more knights and neighboring barons have joined him."

"Does this mean the entire province will join him?"

"Likely, but we still have Duke Louis of Tiberia to consider," the official reminded her.

Sagarius had never met the current Duke of Tiberia, only his grandfather, but she held a low opinion of a House that for generations had shown no intention or effort to progress in science, production, or agriculture. This was why she disliked inherited power and generational transfer—what merit and skills their forefathers had, their descendants rarely possessed.

Turning to the gentleman, who sported a fine beard, Sagarius asked, "What about the new Lord your friend was telling me about a few days ago?"

"How can I put this...?" he said, concern in his voice. "Paulos is naive to trust someone he’s never met. The magic device he used could be connected to anyone, perhaps even brigands."

Sagarius found the remark funny. "If they’re such technologically advanced brigands, then I have no problem meeting them."

The official chuckled and exhaled sharply, explaining, "You might have a point, but it's inherently dangerous. For instance, Paulos initially thought the messages were coming from Centuria, but they actually turned out to be from Lowlandia."

"So you don't have confidence in this new Lord of Lowlandia?" Sagarius asked.

"I'm afraid it'll take quite a leap of faith to trust a Lord whose track record is only a few years. Moreover, he's the Lord of the Lowlandians, and you know how their reputations are."

Sagarius nodded and sipped her tea again, finding its warmth and slightly bitter but fragrant taste delightful in her mouth. Then, holding the metal cup in her lap, she asked, "How about if you come with me? My followers and I are going south, trying to claim a place of our own. I'm sure your skill and experience would be priceless."

The gentleman was quite surprised by the offer. "I don't want to be rude, but..."

"Yes, I may have no name, no reputation, but as you can see, I have followers," Sagarius remarked calmly.

"I'm aware, but so do brigands," he countered sharply.

Sagarius smiled, finding it true. "True," she remarked. "Usually, I wouldn't go this far, but you and Paulos, I'll need you two, otherwise, it'll be, as you said, a brigand business in disguise."

"I'm not following," the old man replied indifferently.

Assuming a formal tone, Sagarius said, "The Imperial Palace complex had twelve outer gates, four main gates, and two inner gates." Her words captured the old man's full attention; his eyes widened. Such knowledge was known only to those working or living inside the palace.

"However," she continued, "that is not entirely accurate. Beyond the Jeweled Gate, the main access for the nobility, and the Elvenwood Door for the servants, there are two lesser-known passages to the inner sanctum."

The precision of her details unnerved the gentleman. "Who are you? How could you possibly know this?"

Sagarius raised a hand, signaling him to pause, and spoke with measured calm, "There exists a third gate accessed through the Grand Armory, and a fourth, the grandest of all, concealed behind magnificent drapes of purple and red, inlaid with gold. The gate, carved from marble, features three dragons, the foremost with ruby eyes—"

Overwhelmed, the old official fell to his knees, his eyes brimming with tears. "No need, no need," he pleaded as he crawled closer, then kowtowed at her feet. "O Great Ones, your servant is at your command."

Her revelation had clearly shaken him. "How can you be so certain of this?" she asked, surprised by his reaction.

"Only three officials ever knew these secrets, one being my mentor, and all have since passed away. After their deaths, the high ministers sealed the gates and the entrance hall."

"But then how do you know about the last gate to verify my claims?"

Still facing the ground, the official explained, "Before it was sealed, several officials managed to enter and slipped a memorandum through the marble gate. I know from my teacher that there was a—"

"Yes," Sagarius interjected, "the third dragon's leg engraving swivels sideways; you can insert a scroll."

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Realizing the gravity of who stood before him, the official wept, trembling.

Sagarius, using her magic discreetly, blurred their forms from any prying eyes. While she could have rendered them invisible, she did not wish Sir Munius to come charging in, all worried. She then gently patted the old official on his back. "On behalf of my father, please accept our apology. We were not good rulers."

He sobbed louder, overwhelmed by his emotions.

Sagarius understood. She had been an official for more than several decades; for them, the Imperium was home, the Ministry was family, and the Emperor, was their father. Thus, she gently explained, "While people named him Ageless, the August One was still mortal. He passed away last winter."

"To the eternal emperor. May he ascend to the Ancestors," the official whispered, his voice breaking as he tried to compose himself.

Only after he calmed down, Sagarius instructed clearly, "Keep this knowledge between us."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Refer to me as Lady Sagaria. Although I am my father’s last living child, I do not plan to claim the throne." Making her statement clear, she added, "Even if I were to claim a land, another would be the leader." She turned her gaze toward Sir Munius.

"Yes, My Lady. Your humble servant understands."

Laden with curiosity, Sagarius asked, "What have you understood?"

"You are a grand progenitor," he replied. "They say in their youth, they preferred to traverse the lands rather than govern."

Sagarius put a smile on her face. She almost revealed her House identity as Elven, but seeing him so shocked and grief-stricken, she didn’t have the heart to do so. Moreover, she needed him, and the matter of her true identity could wait.

***

Eastern Mansion

In the chamber adjacent to the Lord’s private hall, Ingrid collaborated closely with Farkas and Francisca, the few she could truly trust in this matter. As supervisor, Lord Lansius had assigned Sir Harold, since the wealth of information they had gathered from their contact in Elandia had become overwhelming.

"Wood Yellow, Red Green, Green Yellow, Red Green, Wood Blue, Green Wood, Red Green," Ingrid reported to Francisca, who, despite her notorious sharp claws, skillfully wielded a quill with deft precision.

As she was finished, the half-beast handed her neatly written notes to Farkas, who translated the color codes using a chart and then documented them for Sir Harold’s review.

"So Bengrieve has returned and is on the move," Sir Harold whispered, careful not to disrupt Ingrid, whose focus was critical.

"Hard to believe he would abandon his ancestral home and gamble it all for Elandia," Farkas whispered back. Paulos, their contact, had reported Lord Bengrieve’s unexpected return to Elandia.

"But what is his aim? What is he trying to accomplish?" Sir Harold pondered aloud.

"Perhaps, Midlandia is truly lost to him?" Farkas offered his opinion.

"You think so?"

Farkas shrugged. "I'm not sure." Lord Lansius had always cautioned him to admit uncertainty rather than fabricate explanations. He believed it was safer for his agents to confess ignorance rather than construct assumptions that could lead to disastrous results and tragedy.

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Francisca handed another parchment to Farkas, then joined Ingrid for a brief respite, awaiting Sir Harold's directive.

Translating the new code, Farkas was stunned. Turning to Sir Harold while offering the translation, he explained, "Someone important named Sagaria is interested in meeting Lord Lansius."

"Sagaria? I’ve never heard of anyone by that name," Sir Harold replied, his brow furrowed.

"You might want to know that the earring can also transmit a vague sense of feeling," Ingrid chimed in, capturing their attention. "And I felt that Paulus holds this Sagaria person in high regard."

This only confused Sir Harold further. He stroked his square chin, bidding time to think. "For an Imperial official, who used to work in the Grand Imperial Palace, to be impressed by someone... she must be special."

"You know, we should just bring them all here to make it easier," Francisca suggested. "There's a lot of talk about this city needing so many talents; I'm sure this Paulos and his friends are quite the intellectuals."

They all nodded in agreement.

Prompted by their agreement, Francisca added, "So, how about just using the airship to get them?"

Farkas inhaled sharply. "Unfortunately, it hinges on the Nicopola campaign. And we don't know when it'll end."

"Still no news?" Sir Harold asked.

"With all the movements going on in the war and the distance to Korelia, even the Hawks would be hard-pressed," Farkas explained.

The room fell silent as they pondered the situation.

"If the Lord wishes, I could always travel by carriage and provide an escort," Sir Harold explored the option. "I'll be riding from here to Korimor, then from Korimor to Midlandia, and finally crossing to Elandia."

Francisca looked at Sir Harold with hopeful eyes, but the knight turned her down. "Both of us can't be absent from our Lord's side. It would be a lapse in security."

"But, Sir, Midlandia is in such a state," Farkas cautioned.

"A civil war, yes, but I’ve studied the report. It seems that the west of Midlandia has thrown their support to Bengrieve, and technically, our Lord is his ally, isn't he?" Sir Harold reassured them, earning murmurs of agreement.

Turning to Ingrid as lightning flashed outside, Sir Harold instructed, "Ask Paulos who Sagaria is and if there's a way to meet. Tell him Lowlandia is peaceful, safe, growing, and open to new talents."

His words brought smiles to everyone's faces. It made them happy to think that their own place was in such a blissful state compared to the rest of the Imperium. However, before Ingrid could act, the door opened and Lord Lansius rushed in.

"My Lord," they greeted him, but Lord Lansius went straight to the table and found the large wooden switch that had been in the off position.

"Ah," they all understood the reason. The Lord had instructed them about the danger of lightning and how their bronze antennae could attract that very force of nature.

"I always remember your warnings, My Lord," Ingrid reassured him, with a proud smile evident on her lips. "Even if I forget, I can’t ignore the tingling pain whenever there’s a thunderstorm close by."

"My apologies," the Lord breathed a sigh of relief, clearly amused that they had heeded his warning.

"Please move away from the table, it's risky," Sir Harold added, half-jesting. And the Lord followed with a chuckle.

"My Lord, if you're not busy, how about a report?" Sir Harold asked on behalf of the team.

"Sure, but let's get the Lady first; she might be interested to hear it," Lord Lansius said, clearly valuing his wife's opinion.

Despite the building thunderstorm outside, the Lord and Lady listened to the report and were alarmed by the situation.

Lady Audrey turned to Lord Lansius, asking, "Why is Bengrieve back on Elandia?"

The Lord turned to her, simply shaking his head while stroking his chin, his face clouded with doubt.

The staff did not want to interrupt, keeping quiet as if their lives depended on it. They knew just how vital their Lord's strategic insight was to their survival.

"For him to abandon Cascasonne," Lord Lansius muttered, unsure as he studied the map spread out on the table. He gazed at it, pondering under the glow of the hastily lit chandelier, as sunlight was blocked by the storm. "Could it be that Bengrieve is trying to save the Imperium?"

"In a sense, he's similar to you," the Lady chimed in. "If there's an action, there must be a deeper motive or an underlying one."

Her words were unexpected, prompting a thin smile on his lips. The Lord then turned to the staff, saying, "We can assume Bengrieve's motive is growth and power. But his return to Elandia isn't based on this."

Sir Harold, who stood next to him, asked, "Then what is it, My Lord?"

"Survival," the Lord revealed. "But not because of the civil war. No. I have a feeling that he had Reginald under control. He's too cunning not to have secret troops somewhere or assassins ready to strike."

"I'm not so sure about that," the Lady disagreed. "I mean, it's about warfare and he's not you."

The lady's words drew smiles from everyone and the Lord seemingly enjoyed the praise.

Sir Harold quickly added, "As My Lady said, My Lord, you're most capable in the business of war, perhaps Lord Bengrieve isn't as capable in this matter."

"He's surely not incompetent," the Lord dismissed the notion. "Remember, he took Ornietia and Elandia with ease."

"I believe that's Sir Stan's doing," the Lady remarked.

The Lord nodded. "Your baronet brother is indeed capable. That's why if I were Bengrieve, I would let Sir Stan handle Cascasonne while he's doing his part in Elandia."

"But what is he doing in Elandia? Consolidating his gains?" the Lady asked.

"That is one good guess. But I believe it has to do with the Capital," the Lord said somberly. "Even in ruins, it remains a seat of power. Anyone who controls it could lay a claim over the Imperium."

The realization struck everyone hard, yet doubts lingered. Ingrid murmured, "Can they really? I mean, they don't have the blood or the royal rights."

"It's not even an issue," the Lord answered. "A woman could be found and identified as the daughter of the Emperor, imprisoned by the scheming High Ministers. The grateful freed princess would then marry the illustrious liberators. That way, the victor would become an Imperial Prince, and their future son, the next Emperor."

Murmurs of disbelief filled the room, but all knew it was frighteningly possible.

Sir Harold sighed. "I wish for the Imperium to continue, but not like this. I don’t see peace coming from this. The rest of the provinces will rebel."

Lady Audrey also expressed her doubts. "People will eventually find out," she said to the Lord. "The woman will not be ageless, and neither will their descendants."

"Again, that’s not an issue," the Lord replied, exhaling softly. "By the time they find out, the regime will already be twenty or thirty years old, stable enough to fend off any rebellion. And I doubt they'll let the populace know. It's very easy to conceal a puppet's death, especially behind palace walls, or they could simply argue that not all descendants had the gift of being Ageless."

There was silence in the chamber, punctuated by a few thunder strikes that flashed brightly despite the curtains.

The Lady leaned toward the Lord and asked, "Do you really think Bengrieve is after the throne?"

The Lord shrugged. "I'm not sure, but I know that he's afraid," he said, causing others to tense up.

"Whatever he plans to do, it's likely related to the Capital and the throne. He might not want it, but possibly he also doesn't want Gottfried to sit on it." With that, Lord Lansius concluded the main discussion. Although further conversations ensued, none possessed the depth or importance of the Lord's insights.

Despite the revealing take on the situation in Midlandia and the Imperium as a whole, the Shogunate could do little in reality; they were simply too far from the Capital. Moreover, nobody wanted to get involved in the crisis, believing it to be a waste of strength and human lives.

As the meeting was winding down and they waited for the storm to pass, Francisca returned with trays of exotic-looking food resembling carrots or radishes, which she had grown herself. She introduced them as yams, explaining the varieties: some were golden, soft, and sweet, others white and starchy, and a few even purple, available both baked and steamed.

Lord Lansius took a special interest in them, inquiring about their origin and sampling several types, praising their delicious taste. His genuine enthusiasm encouraged others to try, and to everyone’s surprise, the yams proved unexpectedly wholesome, filling, and tasty.

Seeing the Lord’s and the Baroness's enjoyment, the staff felt a new staple might soon be cultivated in Korelia, a prospect that delighted them greatly.

...

The next day, as was their routine, Ingrid wore her earring, turned the switch, and began to transmit her thoughts to Paulos. Outside, the sky was more friendly than yesterday; there were clouds but they were far from dark. Interested in the newest tidings, Lord Lansius sat conversing in whispers with Sir Harold and Farkas.

Lady Audrey was not around; due to the rainy season, whenever the sky was clear, she spent her time with Lady Astrid and their ladies-in-waiting. It was a happy coincidence that both women were pregnant at the same time, with Lady Astrid expecting in the summer and Lady Audrey due later in the fall.

They often went for a stroll in the mansion's garden, now lush with rejuvenated fruit trees, meticulously trimmed foliage, and grass, as well as herbal plants and vibrant flowers, including ornate bird baths. Underneath the trees that provided cool, calm shade, they chatted and even engaged in some light gardening. Or so the Lord was told about the ladies' activities. In truth, today's meeting was a Defense Class for Ladies.

In turn, Lady Audrey and Carla demonstrated crossbow and spear techniques—weapons that women could easily train with. Additionally, due to popular demand, Lady Audrey also showcased her archery skills with the nomad’s bow.

Since they were outside, although technically still on the mansion's grounds, not only were extra guards and Carla present, but Francisca and her group also provided a second layer of defense.

Because Francisca was occupied, the task of writing the letter fell to Margo; otherwise, Ingrid would have been overwhelmed. She believed that Paulos was likely a genius and no longer needed the color chart to communicate, which made her feel like the slower participant in their exchanges.

Inside the chamber, after a long silence, Ingrid's lips curved into a smile. "He said hi," she informed the chamber, already familiar with several combinations of words coming from the device.

Lord Lansius nodded while Sir Harold rose and approached her. "Let's ask him about Sagarius."

...

Sagarius

After last night's exchanges with the old official, Sagarius had secretly become the palace official group's matriarch. However, other members were kept in the dark, as the secret was deemed too significant to share with so many. Today, she visited the official campsite again while the rest of the group was preparing to leave, having gathered the supplies they needed from nearby towns and villages; they would head south the next day.

"So that is the item you used to communicate with that southern lord?" Sagarius asked Paulos as they met.

"Yes, lady Sagaria," Paulos confirmed. "In fact, I'm speaking with them right now."

"I see," Sagarius nodded, intrigued by the device similar to one she had used long ago.

Noticing her curiosity and amused by the attention, Paulos gladly offered, "Do you want to try?"

"Aren't you in the middle of a discussion?"

"It's alright, I'll notify them," he said. He closed his eyes briefly and then readily removed his earring, which was attached to a copper wire.

"Gratitude," Sagarius extended her palm politely and accepted the earring, still connected by a wire to Paulos' backpack. She examined the golden earring, noting its design and simplicity.

Interesting...

She mused, thinking it was likely a copy of the original dwarven think-to-talk communicator. She recalled the Imperium's attempts to recreate such a device for long-distance communication, but they couldn't replicate the complex dwarven rune, often a trade secret, that enabled thought sharing. The attempts were abandoned and rekindled several times, but the results were always inconclusive.

However, despite falling short of expectations, the devices saw action. They were issued to the Imperium's many champions over the generations. She was sure that individuals like Kaen and his comrades were equipped with such devices during the beastmen war, and some were likely preserved in the Imperium Vault or studied by the respective Ministry.

"So you said you're using some kind of code to talk?" Sagarius asked while beginning to don the earring on her right ear.

"Yes, a color chart, but I can decipher it without. Just let me know the color they send," Paulos reassured her.

"Is the wire necessary?" she asked, rather uncomfortable with how close they were.

"It works better that way. Somehow connecting it around my vest or my bag made it work better," Paulos explained cheerfully, completely oblivious to her discomfort.

Sagarius closed her eyes, familiar with having used the original device many times until she ran out of friends to communicate with. Memories of colleagues, both human and elven, long since passed away, flooded in momentarily. She cherished them always, but after hundreds of years, it was hard for her to even remember their faces.

Mm? It had no features and no mind interface.

She returned to the task at hand.

I doubt it can even send feelings, let alone thoughts. This is cumbersome, but probably that's the limitation of human-elven craft...

As expected, she saw colors flash in her mind but did not act on them, choosing instead to use her magic to delve deeper into the device. She noticed some depleted energy cells and sent the tiniest amount of energy she could muster to invigorate them. These cells were old, likely reused from another dwarven artifact. The cells accepted the magical charge tepidly, and then the device began to reveal more functions.

Ah, so they attempted to copy the mechanism but failed to regulate it properly.

She pondered while tinkering with the device, noticing some pretty advanced runes embedded in it.

Could this be Father's work? Maybe if I use myself as a regulator...

Sagarius' eyes glowed briefly as she used her magic to connect with someone far in the southern land. Instead of achieving mind-to-mind communication, however, she experienced a vision. Pain immediately assaulted her, yet she persisted, mesmerized by the freakish accident. Unconsciously, she stared, realizing she was seeing through the other user's eyes. There was no aural sensation, but she observed a chamber, bathed in light, airy and inviting. She noticed several people staring back at her, likely sensing an abnormal reaction.

Her? Ingrid...?

Sagarius' spectacularly failed attempt had unintentionally caught a glimpse of someone's memory before everything collapsed. She likely had broken the device, pushing it beyond its designed capacity. She could feel the cell vaporizing, but just before everything went dark, she caught a glimpse of a man with black hair.

Ingrid's memory revealed a name, 'Lansius.' Then, it all crashed down on her—glimpses of the war, the inventions, the policies, the shogunate, the city fountain, barbed wire, nomads, half-beasts, the library, south trade, and airship.

Sagarius opened her eyes to find Paulos in a panic. Blood trickled from her nose, but there was no mistaking the nervous smile on her lips, contrasting with the tension in her gaze and a flicker of suspicion.

***