"You need not write this all down, it is just the ramblings of a dying man." - The only recorded words of King Abeau Desramaux I, as written by his scribes while on his death bed.

Marching into the command tent, King Phillipe found himself frozen in his tracks, as his eyes locked in with the beautiful woman who could so proudly refer to as his wife, and Queen, and Empress.

"Lady Jolijn." The words barely escaping from his quivering lips. Her eyes went as wide as his when she turned to face the source of the words. The two ran to each other for an embrace. With their lips locking, warmth filled his body, his veins coursed faster, his heart beat more rapidly. A reciprocated heart rhythm could be felt; she was soft, and warm.

"I have thought of you often these last few months."

"And I you."

"Oh, but my dear, your face. What happened?" The young queen's fingers were soft on his face.

"We, we were ambushed on our way here. This was the price I paid to gain the allegiance of the Chiyou. It is a price I would readily pay again."

"Does it hurt?"

"Not all. It will scar something terrible. Perhaps it will be what they remember by, centuries from now. Phillipe the Scarred."

"I was thinking they would call you Phillipe the First." Phillipe smiled and embraced his empress once more.

"While I am surprised to see you here, I stand to welcome it with open arms. You have every right to be in the command tent along with the rest. Where is my uncle and cousin? Where is Prince Mathias and Prince Guillaume?"

"Hello, cousin." Prince Mathi approached and embraced the king. His hold on Phillipe was of an iron grip, as if he were holding on for dear life, as if it were the first embrace of family in ages. The two men pulled back to face one another, a tear streaked down the young prince's face.

"Mathi, I have missed you very much as well. I am glad to see you are safe - but your leg."

"Just a scratch, I will be alright. I fear it may keep me from seeing to my duties on the battle field, though I pray we find a way that I may still join."

"That will not be necessary. You are injured and must - "

"There must be a way." Mathi's expression become somewhat cold, Phillipe noted the clenched fists at his side.

"We will discuss it, of course. But, please, where is your father?" A weight sank down into the young king's stomach as he watched his cousin and greatest friend turn away at the question. After a moment to collect himself, Mathi turned back around.

"He has... perished. As has Guillaume. They were... they were both killed in Pelaresse." King Phillipe's heart sank, his mouth agape as the brine of tears welled up in his eyes.

"I - I see. Umm... forgive me." The king turned his head to the side to wipe his eyes dry.

"Would that I could cry more. Would that I could shed as many tears as they had days on this earth. But, the time is not for grieving. Our time now must be for planning, and bringing and end to all of this, this, this needless destruction. They shall not have died in vain, I can guarantee us all that." Phillipe embraced his cousin once more, this time feeling the warmth of the droplets descending from Mathi's eyes and onto the young king's shoulder. When Mathi had shed enough, he pulled back and Phillipe faced the vassals standing before him in the tent. It was then that the Duchess Nadine and Prince Thijn entered.

"Thijn!"

"Jolijn! Oh my dear! My dear niece." The uncle and niece embraced tightly, arms wrapped around one another with the comfort of familiarity and kinship. A smile came to Nadine's face as the two released to look at the other while arms still outstretched to feel the connection brought by touch.

"You have no idea - "

"I have some idea. If only your father could see you now. Here! Commanding an army. Empress."

"If only my brother could see me now." Phillipe watched as the two before him now attempted to hold back tears.

"Your brother is here. By the gods so is your father! They never left us." The uncle and niece embraced once more, though this time the empress noticed who had accompanied her uncle.

"Duchess Nadine!"

"My Empress." Nadine bowed her head. "It is always a delight to see you."

"And you, duchess." The queen wiped tears away from her eyes. "How I have missed you all, how I have missed home. Having you here is just as good as enjoying the warm sun on the balcony of Castle Biljvank."

"We will be there again soon." Thijn placed a hand on the queen's cheek to wipe away a tear.

"Yes. Yes we will."

"Is that the voice of my Queen I hear?" Prince Hein entered sheepishly, eyes widened as the young queen raced over to him, nearly toppling him to the ground as she wrapped her arms around her cousin.

"Oh, Hein!" She allowed her tears to continue their descent. "How I have missed you all. It truly is like home, now. Of course, your mother is not here to... to bully us."

"She sends her criticism and harsh words from afar, I am sure."

"Yes, yes I am sure she does. But, never mind that now, never mind that. We are here, all of us together, and that is what is important. We have made it this far, and can retake our home."

"My lady... um, Joljin. If I may request... please... that no harm will come to Rikkert." Hein swallowed hard, an act that appeared to be of great difficulty to the old prince.

"He is family at the end of the day."

"Yes." Phillipe interjected." That does go without saying. The enemies we are preparing to fight today are not just our foes, but they are our family, and they will be our friends and allies once again. We must not allow hatred to rule the day. We have much reason to fight this foe, we have much reason to kill them. But, our goal is submission, not extermination." There was an abundance of mumbling and nodding in agreement from the rest of the nobility.

"Let us gather around, let us discuss. As touching as it is for to see one another again, after so long apart..." the young king's eyes drifted to those of Jolijn's. "The time has come to discuss."

Standing in a circle, around the square table covered with a map of the region known as the Duchy of Pelariaux, in order of appearance from the right of King Phillipe Desramaux, Emperor of the Desravank Empire and King of the Desramaux Dynasty was: Prince Hein Biljvank; Duchess Nadine Obbink; Prince Thijn Biljvank; Duchess Helene Dietma; Larynwy; Empress Jolijn Biljvank, Empress of the Desravank Empire and Queen of the Kingdom of Biljvank; Count Beauves Lefeuvre; Duchess Emilie LuRene; Duke Fleury Aurreau; Duchess Zoe Pascelet; Duke Serge Garlen; Andronikos of the Linten; Blazing Arrow, Mother, Chief, and High Chief of the Mannes; and Prince Mathi Desramaux. Missing was the Duke Yves Hemramoux, though, like the king's uncle and cousin, his death in Pelaresse would not be forgotten at the table this day.

"Friends, family, and loved ones. Today is to be our reckoning. We have fought long and hard to punish those who would raise a sword against us, an attempt to steal what is rightfully ours. My uncle, Prince Thierry Desramaux has lived a bitter, misguided life following the death of his father and my grandfather, King Francois Desramaux II. But, that gives him no right to act as he has. Prince Rikkert Biljvank, who I understand to be a man of noble birth and disposition, has been manipulated by a cruel and spiteful woman - his own mother, the Duchess Hekket Zelderloo. It is because of this, the cruelty of our own family, that we are gathered here today. That the mourn the deaths of so many, and so many more to come. Due east of us is an army. Our scouts report somewhere between one-hundred thirty and one-hundred sixty thousand soldiers. They outnumber us, yes; but, where we lack in numbers, we more than make up for in tactics and guile. We number one-hundred twenty-five thousand. Seventy-five thousand infantry - whether they be levy or foot knight; twenty-five thousand archers, ten-thousand mounted knights, ten-thousand centaur from the Mannes, and five-thousand Bull Men of the Linten." Andronikos let out a loud snort at this.

"Hein."

"Yes, my king?"

"You know your people's strategy better than any one else here, and you have accumulated a great understanding of our own on top of this."

"Oh, well. I do not know about that. My cousin Thijn certainly has a great mind for strategy. Along with the Duchess Nadine and... and every one here, really. They all have been educated in battle plans and - "

"Hein." Thijn interjected. "I know how I would organize an army. I do not know how Rikkert would. You do."

"Right. Of course. Right, umm." The old prince coughed once into a handkerchief. "Excuse me... umm." He sniffed, coughed once more, slightly more severe than the first. King Phillipe glanced over with concern.

"Are you alright, Hein?" Jolijn leaned over the table towards her elder cousin, eyes furrowed with a worrying gaze.

"Yes, my queen. A slight cough, nothing more. If I know my brother... and I - I - I... to be blunt I thought I did but - and I do. I do. I do. With between one-hundred thirty and one-hundred sixty thousand soldiers I estimate he will attempt to flank us one way or another. He will send a small force, either far north or far south to attempt to strike us from the rear. As such, we should bolster our rear guard in preparation for such a thing. Umm, in terms of organization of his armies, the vanguard will be stretched out into a thin line. They will be comprised primarily of levy - shield bearers wielding hatchets and, well, shields. As well as some with short spears - it will be a solid mixture of the two, most likely alternating every other so that those with spears can stab up and around enemy shields, while those with hatchets do what axes do best to wooden shields. Umm... uhh-uhh, behind them, in square formation, will be two or three regiments commanded from the center. My brother will be in command of one I assume, as brave and brash as he can be, he would never put himself in the vanguard - especially if he truly has crowned himself king. It would not help if he, well, if he perished in the van. As such, the-the-the square formation of the Biljvank ranks - uh, which Thijn also knows very well - was integral to how we have conquered our enemies, how we became a kingdom. And, when I say enemies, I do not mean enemies - "

"We know what you meant, Prince Hein. There is no need to explain." Nadine interjected, Phillipe noticed how she frequently stopped to rub the left side of her collar bone. An injury?

"Right. Umm, for those from the Desramaux, the Biljvank square formation is comprised of four layers. You have the outer most layer, in which the front, left, and right sides are comprised entirely of shield bearers with hatchets. The back layer, generally speaking, is comprised of archers. The second layer, directly behind the first, will tend to be comprised of spear bearers - they only wield spears, utilizing a pseudo-phalanx position. This layer encompasses all four sides, with the back spears having shields on their backs, providing a means of protecting the archers and to quickly swap with them if the enemy manages to get them from behind. The third layer is made up entirely - once again, all four sides - of axe wielders. These are specially trained and equipped soldiers - a mix of levy and foot knights - who will often have a heartier amount of protection in the form of chain or scale over their gambesons, though not always given that there are levy mixed in. They have no shields on their person, as they wield a large battle axe that can only be used with two hands - it is devastating in the right hands, however it does leave them open, hence why they are in the third layer. In the event lines are broken, the spears will alternate with them, the axes will leap out and attempt to beat the enemy back. If this works, in theory, then, the spears and shield bearers will once again be able to form their outer protective layers. And the inner most, center of the square is very small, it is typically comprised of the commander on horseback, their retinue, and a group of foot knights - they tend to have chain mail, sometimes splint grieves and vambraces. They will wield flanged maces and shields, though as knights they will often have a preferred weapon, I have often seen those with war picks. Their purpose is the protect the commander in the event a retreat is necessary. These are also primarily the captains of each subsection within the square. Every layer is also divided up into subsections and squadrons, and these are commanded by the foot knights within the inner circle - typically these are landed knights."

"And you believe he will have two or three of these squares along with the vanguard?" King Phillipe asked.

"Yes. This will be the bulk of his force, along with one - maybe two - in reserve to provide reinforcements in the event that-that-that they need reprieve and replenishment." The young king simply nodded his head in understanding. A silence continued on as Phillipe gave his cousin by marriage an expecting look.

"Knowing your families tactics, umm, well I-I do not know if that matters. Do we know if your uncle and cousin are commanding any of these forces?"

"To my knowledge, the forces of Jacquignon as well as the Pelariaux not present within Pelaresse will be commanded by my uncle, or perhaps my cousin, Prince Claude."

"I see. Umm. Well, you know their tactics best, but, they will certainly attempt a spear wall with halberds in the back to reinforce, umm, if they have them. So, yes. That is how I presume they shall organize themselves."

"Very good, Hein. Thank you. Suggestions. How can we use this to our advantage?" Phillipe glanced around the tent at the many tactically educated minds before him.

"We shall take the van." Andronikos boomed into the circle. "The Linten always lead the van."

"Very good. Who will go with them?"

"We will." The Duchess Nadine spoke up.

"Darling - "

"Thijn. We cannot just send five-thousand bull men against fifteen, possibly twenty-thousand soldiers. And besides, the soldiers of Obbinkerloo have long fought with and against the Linten. I only see it fitting that the House with the Bull Man on their crest fight alongside them. I would be ashamed of myself if I did not take this opportunity."

"It will be an honor fighting beside you." Andronikos responded.

"That puts twenty-five thousand into the van, assuming you will be adding all of your forces, Nadine?" Phillipe asked.

"I shall. Bull will fight alongside bull."

"Behind them we shall organize ourselves into three divisions: I shall take the center, along with Count Lefeuvre, who shall command a combined force of House Hemramoux and House Lefouvre as well as the forces of the Desramaux." Beauves Lefeuvre bowed his head with a wide grin on his face, perhaps all too eager to fight - or perhaps he is honored to fight alongside his king? Best not to assume a thing like that. 

"Duke Serge and Duchess Zoe, you shall take the southern most section, I recommend you organize yourselves into shield walls with your claymores and halberds backing them up." Serge nodded his head in agreement, the face of tensed muscles ready to kill on him. Zoe turned to Serge, raised an eyebrow, and affirmed this plan.

"As for the northern section, this will be commanded by Duchess Emilie and Duke Fleury, save for your cavalry, Duke. Cousin, can you ride a horse?"

"Yes."

"You shall remain in reserve with Blazing Arrow and the ten-thousand centaur, along with the Duchess Dietma and half of her force."

"I am to serve in the rearguard?" The young princes voice was that of indignation.

"Yes. You are to protect our back. If what Hein says is true of the the trickery of his brother, we must have a well protected and command rear in the event they do send a force around the back."

"And if they do not?"

"Well then you may provide us respite as we grow tired throughout the battle."

"This is fair." Phillipe noted as Helene slumped her shoulders in acceptance as well.

"I know, Duchess Dietma, that you have a greater cause than most to charge headlong into the enemies forces, weapon raised and aimed for the false king Rikkert. And that is precisely why I need you and your forces in reserves - your vim and vigor for fighting our foes will be so great when you are finally allowed forward that it will be as if we are releasing the gates of the hells themselves." He was not sure, but the king was certain he saw the crack of a grin come over the duchess' face.

"And, where am I to go?" Hein's feeble voice cracked through, just audible enough for Phillipe to hear.

"Hein, we have had this discussion."

"I do not care." the entire tent fell silent, all eyes fixated upon the king for his response. The young king suppressed the anger which came from the initial shock of his cousin by marriage's words. Turning to face him, there was something different. Hein was no longer the old and feeble prince of a kingdom now defunct. He stood tall, eyes wide with hope, his sword sheathed at this hip. This was no longer a sickly man who would be kept in the corner. The king gave a deep sigh.

"I cannot lose you, Hein." Phillipe said.

"You talk of this, losing me, as if I am not already lost. As if the world around me will continue on the same as it does for all of you. It will not, and you know it will not." Phillipe watched as the old prince swallowed hard. Hein continued.

"The Biljvank Square is self healing. Every layer is positioned as such to protect those around them if necessary. When the shield bearers get hit, the spears reach out to push the enemy back. When the shields are broken and the spears are useless with such close quarters, the axes leap in to shock the foe enough that the shields and spears may regroup. The square can be used for offense and defense. It is nigh impenetrable through conventional means. We may weaken it, we may even force them to retreat, but we will never reach the center, where we need to reach. While the nobility of this rebellion still draw their weapons, their soldiers will continue to fight, and their levy will continue to be raised." Anxious glances were exchanged throughout the room, Phillipe looked to Jolijn for comfort. Her eyes were welling up. Such emerald beauties within a sea of tears.

"What do you suggest, then, my chief advisor?"

"We need to shock them. Break their concentration fast enough that they cannot regroup in time. We have an advantage they do not, an advantage the Biljvank have little experience dealing with. Cavalry." This was true, or so Phillipe recalled from the reports. The only cavalry utilized by Rikkert and his forces would be from the Pelariaux, and they would possess no more than two-thousand, meanwhile they had almost twenty-thousand.

"Send a charge from around the back?" Duke Fleury said, his right hand stroking his beard after tossing his mane.

"While their forces engage with ours, yes, exactly. We go directly for Rikkert's square, I guarantee he will be in centered."

"It would be suicide, would it not?" Duchess LuRene said, hands firmly crossed.

"Yes, of course. But if we hit them hard enough, it could shatter their formation just enough for us to squeeze them." Fleury now possessed a wide grin on his face, the experience cavalryman clearly enamored with such an idea.

"Will you be leading this suicide charge, then, Duke Fleury?" Duchess Zoe asked in all sincerity.

"Gods no! But I know which of my knights would gladly take part. I shall gather them up post haste. How many would be needed?"

"I would need two-hundred fifty." Prince Hein said, that look of hope once again in his eyes. What about this made him hopeful? The young king thought to himself.

"Do not tell me you plan to lead this, Hein." Prince Thijn said, leaning in with grave intent towards his cousin.

"I do."

"I refuse." King Phillipe said.

"As do I." Empress Jolijn said.

"Gods be damned and gods damn you all! Am I not an equal member of these proceedings? Have I not the education necessary to lead such a foray? Have I not as much cause as all others in this room to put to sword those who would fight us?"

"You are fighting in your own way, Hein. I - " Phillipe said before being cut off by a laugh from the old prince.

"In my own way. It has never been my own way. I have always lived and done as was expected of me, as was told to me because of my condition. But I am not my condition. I am Prince Hein Biljvank of the Desravank Empire. Nobility, royalty, and chief advisor to the King and Emperor. This union, this Empire, is worth fighting for and worth dying for. All us in this tent, around this table agree to this premise, otherwise, why are we here? I pray to Dekinhold for the justice that will reach my family for what they have done to their own. I pray to Bershion that the tides of war always be in our favor, especially on these days to come. I pray to Darion to keep us all in good health, and I pray to Clarion to return us to the soil should we fail on this day. But, of all of the gods, greater and lesser, I pray to Mostrosty that I might stop dying of something, and instead be permitted to die for something. I know the gods will not intercede on my behalf this day, but, please, cousins, allow me this mercy. Allow me to see my brother's face one last time." The hope had remained, glistening like a beacon in the old prince's eyes as he looked back and forth between Phillipe and Jolijn. The young emperor looked to his wife, his empress and queen. She closed her eyes, a single tear descended from the left eye, and nodded.

"So it shall be, then, Prince Hein. Duke Fleury, assemble your knights."

"I should like to join Hein, Son and Prince, along with two-hundred fifty of my own volunteers." The king looked back in shock at the source of these words; Blazing Arrow, Mother, Chief, and High Chief.

"Blazing Arrow, Mother, Chief, and High Chief, you cannot mean this. You would give away your life and the lives of so many of your people for this cause?"

"Who is more experienced to fight on horseback than a horse, Phillipe, Son and King? And you cannot command me as you would your cousin. I will join Hein, Son and Prince with two-hundred fifty of my people." King Phillipe inhaled deeply but resisted the sigh, slowly letting out his breath instead.

"Duchess Helene, you and Prince Mathi shall be the command in reserve. Blazing Arrow, Mother, Chief, and High Chief, have your people join with Prince Hein and Duke Fleury's knights. I am entrusting the details of this charge to you two. I... I pray that Bershion lead us all to victory and Pictoah guide us on our new future. Tomorrow, we retake our home."

Seated around a rectangular table, beneath an open tent, just outside of the town of Jacquignon sat, at the eastern head of the table, King Rikkert Biljvank. To his immediate right was Duke Vaars Zelderloo VIII, followed by Lowie Van Niljveld standing in for his cousin; and to his left was Duke Martien Ruuding, with Duchess Eefje Mathink following him and the Count Luther Lutherloo. At the western end of the table sat King Thierry Desramaux, with Prince Claude and Jean-Claude Desramaux to his right while his son, Prince Louis, sat to his left followed by Count Jacques Jaqueaux II of Jacquignon. The ten nobles glanced around the table at each other, each bearing a tabard with their families insignia. King Thierry spoke first, breaking the silence.

"Well... this could be it, my fellow allies. Yes, this could be the end. Approximately twenty miles west of us, brooding and preparing to fight us just as we are them, is the false King and child emperor Phillipe Desramaux. And, let us not forget his wife, the false Queen and empress Jolijn Biljvank. They have an abundance of allies just like us, however, they lack in numbers."

"And we know this for certain?" Count Jacques perked up.

"Yes." the old king seemed to give a disgruntled stare to the count as he said this. "Claude, if you would please give us your report?" the old prince looked up in shock at the sound of his own name, grumbled under his breath and put out his pipe.

"Um, um, yes, yes of course," the prince cleared his throat; "We approximate there numbers to be somewhere between one-hundred and one-hundred twenty thousand. Soldiers, that being, umm, primarily levy in, umm, cloth gambesons - or maybe leather, cannot... cannot rule that out. Smaller-smaller shields. Spears and hatchets, perhaps maces? No maces. Bows, naturally, short bows primarily, I assume. Umm. Yes." The old prince looked up to the table with the subtlest look of accomplishment. His cousin could be heard gritting his teeth from across the table.

"Cavalry?" Thierry asked.

"Oh, oh, yes. They do have cavalry. A-a-a-a significant a-a descent gathering of cavalry, yes. They have, they have, they have... let us see here." The fop went fumbling through his parchment, holding it nearly against the skin of his face so that he might read it more clearly. Would that he owned spectacles, it would seem. Though King Rikkert, who gave a heavy sigh audible only to his closest allies and vassals beside him.

"Fif-fif... fif... fif... um, um, um, um. Twenty thousand cavalry. Wait... that cannot be right. Oh. No. It is. Ten... ten thousand mounted knights, and ten thousand, um, centaurs. From the Mannes tribes." The old prince instinctively reached for his pipe for a bit of respite, but was forced down by his cousins glare.

"Interesting. Twenty thousand cavalry?" Thierry said with a detectable amount of surprise.

"That is a great deal of cavalry." King Rikkert boomed from the other end. "And what do we number?"

"If I may, my king?"

"You may." Duke Vaars stood to give his report. Prince Claude, with a satisfied grin, sat back beside his son and resumed his coffee smoking needs. Addict or fool? Rikkert thought.

"We number one-hundred and fifty thousand soldiers. One-hundred ten thousand infantry, thirty-five thousand archers, and five-thousand cavalry. Light cavalry, I should specify. They are not knights, simply levy put on horseback with spears. Their sole purpose is to chase down a routed enemy, not to be used in open combat."

"Very good. So. Pelaresse has fallen?" King Rikkert asked, bringing back a shroud of silence over the table. All eyes very slowly turned back to face King Thierry.

"Yes. Pelaresse has fallen. However, it does our enemy no good. Our very successful covert operation with my two legions of Sun warriors left the city burning. It is very likely that they have put out the fires since our foray beyond the walls, however, the damage was done. They are in short supply, which is why they are so quick to sally forth and meet us. They cannot hide behind the walls of Pelaresse, they are weakened beyond repair at this point in time."

"Perhaps they are even a little demoralized. Very good. Now - " Rikkert turned to begin a new line of discussion before Thierry jumped in once again.

"It is also, I might add, because of these fires that so many of the enemy soldiers stationed - at first the siege camp and then the city itself - have perished. Of our estimates to their casualties, one third were estimated to have come from the fires." Forced smiles of accomplishment fell over the Desramaux delegation, beginning and ending with the old king. Prince Louis, Rikkert noticed, stared at the table instead.

"That is good news. Let us pray to Bershion and Pictoah that the rest of our ventures in this conflict are so enterprising and fruitful. Shall we now move the topic of conversation to our next plan of attack?"

"Yes. Of course. I believe it would behoove us to divide ourselves into three main armies, commanding from  there. I believe that Claude and Jean-Claude shall take a portion numbering twenty-five thousand, leaving effective immediately to make their way five miles north of us... here." Thierry pointed to the map on the table at a region in the Pelari fields just north of the North Road and just east of Pelaresse.

"Why?" Rikkert asked.

"To flank them. Rikkert, commanding your forces along with Vaars, Martien, Luther, and Eefjie, shall come directly from the east with the largest portion of the army, numbering one-hundred thousand and divided up as best you see fit." King Rikkert gave glances back and forth to his vassals, his left eye brow raised slightly - just enough that they interpret his meaning.

"The remaining twenty-five thousand, including the five-thousand cavalry, will be commanded by Lowie, Louis, and Count Jacques as a rear guard to provide cover in the event of a retreat, but also to supply reinforcements if needed and to run down the enemy when given the signal - in the most likely event of a victory." The old Biljvank king scratched his beard, head cocked to the left to indicate thought as he stared at the map. Bringing his eyes to the attention of his western royal ally, he spoke.

"I could not help but notice, in your otherwise rather sound plan, that you have failed to place yourself in command... anywhere." Thierry gave a fake smile and chuckle at this.

"Yes, of course. Well, I have at my command... roughly nineteen hundred Sun warriors. We will march alongside your main force, King Rikkert."

"Hmm. Very well. We shall divide our main forces into four sections of Biljvank squares and one section of standard line formation. Duke Rodzijl, you shall command the twenty-thousand in line formation, you are to march out ahead of us all with the vanguard. I shall command the center square with the Duke Zelderloo north and slightly west of me and the Duchess Mathink south and further west of me. Hitting them in this pattern could send them to the wrong sections at the wrong time - for them that is. While they rush south to fend of Eefjie, and when they are in the thick of it, Vaars shall hit them far to the north, while I strike their center just as they reach him. Each of the four squares will house twenty-thousand soldiers, with the fourth and final square being commanded by a trusted knight of mine that shall fall behind the center to act as reserves. I suspect this fight shall go on for many hours, and as soldiers grow tired they will be in great need of reprieve from fresh troops. When they are inevitably forced into a retreat, whomever is in reserve at that point in time will pursue, as far as one mile. We will not purse further than this, any more would stretch us thin and give them ample opportunity for an easy counter, sending us routing. Claude."

"Uh-uh, yes? Yes?" The old prince nearly spat out his pipe as the old king boomed his name across the table.

"You and your son are taking your forces farther north, yes?"

"Yes."

"Good. Strike them from behind."

"Yes, yes. Of course. Of course."

"Martien."

"Yes, my king?"

"I have changed my mind. I shall command my forces from the south, with twenty-five thousand at my disposal, and Vaars you shall be on equal ground with me and come from the north with the same sized force. Eefjie, that leaves you with Luther and the remaining thirty-thousand in reserve split between you."

"Reserve?"

"Yes, you will be prepared to provide us with respite when called for. As much as you show disdain for your nephew, King Thierry, I do not imagine him or his fellow generals to be foolish enough to fall for my previous plan. We must strike them with convention and a slight amount of underhandedness from Claude. Martien, with your vanguard, you shall attempt to draw them into a more central position so that we might come at them from three sides, trapping them in a triangular formation." With any luck, my brother will not foresee this plan. The king thought to himself, thinking back to all of the time they brother's had spent together studying tactics among other necessary readings of royalty. Darion cursed him with a tarnished body and robust mind. I pray we may meet again, which ever god may grant that. Small cheers and exclamations of agreement for the plan came forth from the table. Rikkert looked around at all of the faces before him. How many of us would return from today?

"This will be the largest engagement our people will have ever seen. Seconded only, to my knowledge, to the Battle of Lutherloo, some one-hundred fifty years ago now. Those around the table closest to me know that as the day we conquered the Van Niljveld. Roughly fifty-thousand soldiers were on either side that day. We have nearly tripled that this day. Thousands will die. Everyone today is fighting for their liege lord, for their king. But not just that. We are fighting for preservation. We are fighting for two dynasties that have stood the tests of time. We are fighting for our survival and our way of life. May Bershion bless us with the ferocity to win this day, and may Pictoah give us the wisdom to see our strategies through."

"My king."

"Yes, Vaars?"

"Whatever came of the Chiyou?"

"The messengers you sent never did return, did they?"

"No."

"I fear that is a lost cause, then. But that does not matter. We need not look to outside help, we are more than capable of winning the day on our own. No centaurs, no bull men, and no giantkin. We will win the day, for the day is ours to win! The black rose cuts all who dare touch it!"