20 Years Before Plegian War II

Twenty minutes later, Phila was running through the castle corridors, praying that her mother would not make a scene over her tardiness.

It always seemed to take her a long time to do anything when she entered her room. Sadness weighed her down. If she hadn't been a commander's daughter, she would have been arriving at the castle for the first time next year to join a squad of pegasus knights. She would've slept with them in the main barracks, and they would have shared living quarters together. But next year, when she would officially be allowed to join, she would still be in her own spacious quarters. Alone.

She'd let her hair out of its ponytail again so that it fell to her hips, and she'd changed into some leggings and a clean tunic. Now that she was drawing close to the doors of the Great Hall and she could see her mother's expression, she felt that she had made the wrong choice.

"You should have dressed up more," Rohesia hissed. She'd changed into her best uniform, embroidered with gold thread. Standing with her shoulders squared next to the grand doors of the Great Hall, she reeked of power and diligence. "I suppose this will have to do. But I've bought you a number of nicer tunics. You could have even worn a gown. This is the first time Exalt Loys has ever asked for your attendance."

Phila's stomach lurched at the reminder. She had been trying to take things a step at a time and please her mother before she worried about Exalt Loys. She was certain that he would pay her no attention at all, yet she was still feeling self-conscious.

Rohesia turned to the servants standing by the doors. "We shall enter."

The servants bowed and dutifully pulled the double doors open, their eyes lowered to the floor. Phila watched them curiously as she followed her mother. She was used to being treated like an ordinary soldier or even less because of her age. It was hard to adjust to the idea that when her mother died, she might walk through these doors many times a day to attend various meetings. Would she ever get used to it?

She raised her eyes as she crossed the threshold of the hall, drinking in its features. She'd been here on occasion before, but all visit had been as a child. They were nothing but faint memories.

The throne, on its raised platform, was currently the only centrepiece. Exalt Loys sat upon it, watching over his guests. His wife had been a bubbly, eccentric young woman with memorable blue hair before she'd died, but Exalt Loys was stern, quiet, and pale from his skin to his white hair. His famous taste for fine fashion was the only thing able to give him colour. Today he was wearing a long, navy blue coat and matching leather boots that rose up to his knees. His breeches and waistcoat were a paler shade of blue. Great amethysts were sewn along his silver belt, from which Falchion, the ancient and holy sword of Ylisse, always hung.

The rest of the room was filled with chairs, and most of those chairs were filled with the exalt's subjects. Rohesia waved a servant over who had been standing near the wall. "Find a seat for my daughter."

The servant bowed. "Yes, milady. Please, this way."

Phila glanced back at her mother, but she was already striding up the centre of the hall to take her seat to the left of the exalt's throne. Both she and Commander Savion, who was seated to the exalt's right, also served as guards for the royal family. That would be yet another duty for Phila to manage when her mother died.

The servant cleared his throat uncertainly. Phila turned around. "My apologies."

He led to her a seat near the back of the hall, over to the very left. It was a long room, about seventy feet, but once Phila sat down she was pleased to find that she felt as if she was even further away from her mother, for she was blocked out by the heads of the nobles all around.

Ah, bliss.

Phila placed her hands in her lap and tried to relax as best she could with a ramrod straight back. Oh, how she wanted to slide down her seat and get comfortable after such a hard training session. But she could feel the eyes of some curious nobles on her as they turned in their seats and glanced down the row. No fifteen-year-old girl would be summoned to this meeting unless they were important, and the fact that she was a miniature replica of her mother gave it all away.

She's the next pegasus commander, they whispered.

She heard the doors opening again behind her and sighed softly, letting her gaze bore into the throne. She hoped the last of the guests would arrive quickly. The sooner the exalt started speaking, the sooner he would finish. Then she could carry on with her day again. She'd been planning to go down to the stables and help the servants this morning, as she often did. They would have long finished mucking out, and now they were probably taking horses from the nobles who were arriving.

She loved the bustle of the stables when people started their daily coming and going. She loved to sponge their sweaty mounts off, or to groom and tack up a new one. She loved to get her hands dirty and be equal to those who pulled their weight. She loved to be one of the nobodies: another stable hand, another soldier, another weapon to be guided.

She wanted to be a pegasus knight, more than anything. But she did not want to be their commander.

The doors of the throne room slammed shut again, and there was a loud rapping on the floor. Everyone fell silent.

The top of Rohesia's head bobbed into view, and Phila realised that she'd stood up. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself from scowling.

"My lords and ladies," Rohesia said, "His Grace, Exalt Loys, has summoned you here today to speak of an important matter. This is not a discussion, but a court announcement. You are asked to keep your seats and your silence at all times and to remember that you are in the presence of His Grace. The exalt's words, as always, are to be revered and respected. Those who do not follow these rules will be taken from this room and dealt with by the exalt himself." Her head bobbed out of view again.

Phila stiffened. Those who dared to speak would be dealt with by the exalt himself?

She glanced at those seated closest to her, but their facial expressions remained unchanged. Gods, did her mother announce this threatening message every time the nobility of Ylisse gathered?

There was another heavy rapping against the floor. Exalt Loys stood.

He was a willowy man, almost too skinny for one to believe that he was ferocious with a sword, but an air of quiet authority and cunning clung to his skin in a way that made him seem larger. He walked to the end of his platform and looked out at his audience as if he was watching them from his great balcony. Not a single set of eyes moved.

"My people, I have a grave announcement," he said. "Many of you have known for some time now that our neighbours of Plegia have begun to grow restless. While they have not set foot on our soil, their hostility is growing. For the sake of protecting my people, I recently issued our spies a mission. It was successful. They were able to find some interesting information for me."

The Great Hall was so quiet that Phila could hear the hesitant breathing of her neighbours.

"The reason why the Plegians are in such a state of unrest is that there have been sightings of a child bearing the Brand of the Defile."

A startled murmur ran around the room.

Exalt Loys' eyes flashed, and his voice rose to a frosty growl. "Silence!"

His people obeyed.

"Now, few people alive know what this brand looks like," Exalt Loys continued. "To make matters more uncertain, this world is filled with many brands we struggle to identify. There are the brands of the tribes who live in the mountains of Regna Ferox. There are the brands of old houses died out that occasionally surface on peasants. Even the brands that we do know, like those that belong to your own noble blood, and to mine —" he placed a hand over his chest "— make determining what the Brand of the Defile should look like very difficult. In short, to have a brand upon your skin is not uncommon, and to search for those with unfamiliar symbols and study them would be an impossible task.

"Yet we cannot idly stand by. The King says the rumour is true. So do the oldest Plegian academics, the only people who know it by sight. This leaves us with only one option, and I am sure you know it. The sighted child is a vessel for the fell dragon, Grima. They must be eliminated at all costs for the sake of humankind. We must purge our land through war."

Another ripple of murmurs echoed through the room.

"Do my people cower away from this task?" Exalt Loys boomed. "We are the country Naga herself chose a thousand years ago to put the fell dragon to sleep. It is our duty to rise and fight again! It is our noble purpose! Do you mean to tell me that you will not save your own people? Or that you will not save the people of Regna Ferox, Chon'sin, Valm, or Rosanne? Do you mean to tell me that you do not have what it takes to save the world, as Naga chose you to do?"

Silence.

The exalt nodded. "Good. Now, I permit you to speak. We have captains and commanders, but those of the finest blood currently do not sleep with our soldiers. We are in need of nobles to head the chain of command. Who will lead my battalions?"

A man near Phila stood up, a middle-aged noble almost as finely jewelled as the exalt. "I will."

Another man stood. "And I."

And then more and more of them rose, like water gushing down a river, volunteering themselves for the cause.

"I will!"

"Grima must be stopped!"

"For our people!"

"For the world!"

Phila stayed seated, her hands clenched into fists.

Finally, when the volunteers trickled to a stop, Rohesia and Savion did what she had known they would. It was what they had to do. But it was the worst of all.

Commander Savion knelt on one side of the exalt. Phila's mother knelt on the other.

"We are, as ever, at your service," Rohesia said. "We will do what we must to keep peace and prosperity in our world."

"Rise," Exalt Loys said.

His commanders and all his people stood. Phila was the last to get to her feet.

"Those who would fight alongside me: say goodbye to your wives and your children today, and then take up your arms. Know that you are doing this in their names. If you are noble, if you are brave, if you are bold, you will follow me into this task. I hope to see you signing up tomorrow. You are dismissed."

The exalt turned and strode out through a door at the back of the room. The people began to move out of their rows to the larger set of doors they had entered through. Rohesia and Savion remained standing on the platform, overseeing the proceedings. Phila pushed her way towards them.

Rohesia sighed when Phila stopped before her and stepped down from the platform with a frown. "Phila, what is it? If you've come to ask to fight alongside me, you are still a year too young. Even I cannot bend the rules for you."

"That's not what I want," Phila said through clenched teeth. "Exalt Loys may be clever with his words, but I can see what this really is. A massacre. You haven't told them that it will not just be grown men and women they will be fighting. You haven't told them how it is that battle will eliminate the threat. It won't. You'll kill all the Plegian children, won't you?"

Rohesia held her gaze unwaveringly. "Only those under five. It's a sacrifice that must be made, but the nobles will not have to do that. Most of our soldiers will be fighting against the Plegian forces who will inevitably attempt to prevent us."

"And with good reason, too!" Phila hissed. "All the children under five?"

Commander Savion took a step towards her. "It is not for us to question our orders, girl."

"I have this under control!" Rohesia snapped. She grabbed Phila's arms. "Listen to me, young lady. You have been sworn in as my successor. When I die, you will be sworn in as a commander. It will be your duty to lead your soldiers into these battles if I have not succeeded, and it will be your duty to guard Exalt Loys or his children. You must do as you are asked and never question or rebel, lest they put your head on the executioner's block. Am I clear?"

Phila's blood ran cold. "Yes, Mother."

Rohesia stepped back. "Good. Never forget that, Phila."

Was there a hint of concern in her voice? But no, now it was gone again. All Phila could feel was Rohesia's cold glare until she turned away.

When Savion had also turned his back, Phila clasped her hands together in a prayer.

Please, Naga, don't let them do this. Please don't let this be what you want.

And please, if the poor child this war is being fought over has a good soul...let them escape before it's too late.