Emalia nearly begged the voivode to allow her to accompany him to the camp. He was at first unwilling, but she argued that she could, upon the authority of the Column, give credence to the story he put forth. After all, this commander of the west did not have to know she had been effectively outcast from the Column, or, for that matter, neither did Voivode Vilsky, though he might have his suspicions.

Sovina came with, of course, though no one tried to argue against that. Emalia smiled to herself at the impressive intimidation of her companion, who, by force of tradition and self-assurance, always seemed to get her way with most things while Emalia had to argue with all logic and persuasive rhetoric she'd studied in the Column's scriptoriums and archives. Smychnik would shake his head in disbelief if he knew how feeble all his lessons were compared to 'mere' strength and determination, as he might put it. Not that Sovina had just that, of course.

The camp was both smaller and larger than she expected; it housed only a thousand men, which was scarcely an army, in her eyes, though walking through it made the number seem quite a bit larger than in her head compared to the detached accounts of history, when Vasia fielded much grander forces. Commander Voiakh was in his tent reading a letter when they arrived under sufficient announcement by the captain. As the voivode was accompanied by most of his druzhina, their entourage was quite large, though only Isak joined them with the voivode inside the commander's tent.

"Voivode Laczlo Vilsky?" he asked in some disbelief, standing with a broad smile. "It is an utter surprise to see you here again! My, I should summon Ygon from Nova for a proper reunion. Hah!" He came forward and shook the voivode's hand, cheerful and bright. He was short, thin, and grey-haired with the kind of lively confidence that seemed at once magnetic and entirely out of place, in Emalia's own reserved judgment, for a war leader.

"Commander—ahem, Voiakh, it is a pleasure once again. Though I notice we meet outside the walls, not within."

"Ah, yes, unfortunate but unavoidable, I am afraid." His teeth flashed in a grin before his eyes narrowed on the voivode's face. "And I do say I notice another difference. Have you seen battle, friend?"

"I am afraid so. Sea Serpents attacked us."

"Gods, truly? I was worried about something of the sort when I heard you dash off as you did. Quite the spectacle, I must say. Had the whole city gossiping like hens." He finally turned to her and Sovina, and bowed. "A priestess of the Column? Another honor indeed."

"You are too kind, Commander," she replied steadily, trying to look through the disarming warmth for any hidden motives underneath but finding little. "We joined the voivode on his journey south, as I hope to be of service to the tsar."

"Oh?" His eyes darted to the voivode's, and he seemed to find some acknowledgment there. "We may talk plainly then?"

The voivode nodded. "We may."

Voiakh poured the voivode a cup of wine, then offered one to everyone else in turn, giving the druzhina a nod of greeting at the same time—a respectful, if unnecessary, gesture towards an inferior rank. "I imagine you are curious about the developments here. I shall be frank with all in this room, then. After you left, Laczlo, Gorodenski was riled up as can be, reportedly raving up and down the halls like a lunatic. Apparently, at the same time as your departure, a certain, ah, shall we say, favorite of his vanished after a reported scuffle with a less reputable man tied to the voivode's pay. She had some sensitive information, it is said." He chuckled and drank from his cup, then looked into it. "All was good—an angry enemy is a foolish one, after all—but there was talk of recklessness, of which you may have been exposed to more quickly than I anticipated." He nodded to the voivode's scar. "For that, I apologize."

"It happened fast. We lost a man but gained prisoners who signed documents of oath-sworn testimony."

"Truly? Such documents should make a case against Voivode Gorodenski far easier. As for myself, I worried for you and others, my own people included, and left to report to the tsar. Gorodenski was called to Nova for an audience, and the fool sealed his fate by refusing. Another summons, though less kindly worded, was sent and promptly ignored, and here we are. Waiting to see what other rats scurry out from their nests at the first sight of turmoil."

The voivode sat down, placing his drink on the table, spinning it with one idle finger. "Perhaps it will not be so simple."

"No? Do tell me what you have learned."

"I would think it wise to speak with Iarek Kostuveski first."

This made Emalia's brow furrow. But why? Does he not trust the commander? She tried to remember the political situation upon her departure from Nova, but couldn't quite recall—she had never been a good student of such things. Still, it meant Laczlo Vilsky had other obligations or loyalties than simply to the tsar. For the first time, she feared having too openly trusted the voivode and his intentions. Perhaps his appearance as somewhat overwhelmed and conflicted was a ruse? Was he not the simple patriot she figured him for? Ugh, why can't people be as simple as manuscripts? she thought with some chagrin. Everything was politics and hidden motives.

"It will take you some days to reach Nova, perhaps a week," the commander said, smile dampening but not quite dying out. "Much can change in that time. Especially here, during a siege. Is there anything I should know now as your ally?"

"Prepare for a long siege. I can say little more."

He leaned forward, his thin, unmartial features bending into a dissatisfied frown. "Why the secrecy? I knew of the spy and the bribery. We both owe allegiance to the same man."

Voivode Vilsky glanced to her, and then Emalia knew why it was useful to include her in the conversation. So she clasped her hands behind her back, instilled confidence in her posture and voice as she said, "By my service and duty as priestess of the Column, the information the voivode possesses is best served directed toward the Voivode Kostuveski."

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"To him and not the tsar? Isn't the Column bound first by imperial loyalty?"

You better be right in this, Voivode, or else I just swore a false promise upon the Column. "It is so, but for the good of the imperium, it is as Voivode Vilsky says."

The commander scrunched up his lips and let out a huff. "Very well. I would be a fool to argue with a priestess and a voivode," he said with a grin. "Prepare for a long siege, then? Very well, that I can do. Wish I had brought more men for this."

"Where are your regiments?" the voivode asked.

"Most are along the frontier forts. I may pull some to reinforce here."

"Consider withdrawing all men from the border," Emalia ventured. "Yet keep an eye toward the north."

All looked at her curiously. Before the commander could speak, the voivode leaned forward and asked, "Why is this, Priestess?"

She didn't know what to say, not immediately, and so Sovina answered for her, "A separate concern. It's why we left the Column."

"And is this also a secret I cannot be informed about?" Commander Voiakh asked.

Emalia nodded. "I am afraid so. We are working to address it before it becomes… an immediate threat."

He sighed, giving a rueful chuckle. "Well, you certainly have added some complications to my day, but I can't say I'm not grateful for the warnings. I'll have my spies keep their eyes open in Rodezia, then, and be on the lookout for…"

"You will know when you hear of it."

He laughed again. "Of course. But all men from the border? Why not protect it if something is a threat to Vasia?"

"It may not be if we are successful. Still, it would be best not to exacerbate the conflict with a martial response if it can be helped. If we are not fast enough, the best Vasian policy is delaying engagement."

"You understand how this guidance can trouble me, yes? I am responsible for the west, and you speak of, well, I am not sure what, but something dangerous indeed. Almost apocalyptic."

Emalia licked her lips and looked from him to the voivode. Should I say? What if he decides, with more information, to face Daecinus? A pitched battle would be a disaster. But without sufficient information, he might not heed my warnings. Again, hidden truths and deception—not her strong suit and hardly her preference. "I cannot say much, for I fear that you will err from my advice and try to stop him directly. But violence cannot solve this problem. Not with him."

"Him?" the commander asked, brow raising.

The tent was silent in anticipation and worry. She looked to Sovina and, out of view from the others, curled her hand into a fist. Sovina faced the commander with hard eyes that seemed a prelude to violence. "Heed the priestess's words carefully, all of you. She speaks with the wisdom of Column knowledge and the whispers of the gods."

Emalia took a deep breath and said, "When your men report his presence, do not make an error and attempt to engage. Do not face him even with your army, nor multiple. Whatever oaths you have binding you to Vasia's protection, to the tsar's, it is essential that you proceed with caution. His name is Daecinus, and he comes with a purpose of vengeance. I do not know how he will approach, but when he does, you will wish to make battle. Again, I implore you to heed my advice and do not engage him. I shall handle him."

No one said anything for a few long breaths, then the commander nodded slowly, never taking his eyes off hers. "He's a Sorcerer, isn't he?"

"He's more than that. Please, Commander, do not speak of this to anyone."

"Very well." He sipped wine and leaned back, though hardly relaxed and comfortable as before. "You're Emalia, the runaway, aren't you?" She stiffened, stepping back, and glanced at the voivode, who stared at her in grim understanding. The druzhina Isak stood behind, still and silent, but watchful. There'd be no escape if things turned to the worst.

The commander waved away her fear as if it meant nothing. "Worry not, priestess. By your warnings alone, I trust you had righteous intentions. The gods know the Column cares little for ideas in contrast to its own. To brand you as a false prophet and mad, well, it's clear they feared your insight." He looked at Voivode Vilsky. "You would agree, would you not, Laczlo?"

He nodded slowly, looking from her to Sovina, then back to the commander. "Right."

"Excellent," he replied. "Looks like we have uncovered most stones we could in this conversation. Unless there is anything else, might I suggest continuing toward Nova? Though a more polite host might invite you to rest for the night, I fear you've more pressing concerns."

"Of course," the voivode said, making no motion to stand. He looked at Emalia for a moment, brow scrunched together as if in consideration. "Wait outside with the others. I would like a moment with the commander. Isak, you as well, if you would."

"Voivode," the druzhina replied, marching outside.

Emalia had no choice but to follow, palms clammy and shaky. To think her lie would be exposed so easily! She should have known someone would put it together sooner or later before reaching Nova, but how was she to suspect the Column would put out word of her actions? As an institution, it was almost entirely one-way in its treatment of information—absorb as much as possible from the outside world and let nothing escape. Column matters were Column matters. Did they view her encounter with the Spirits of the high chamber so dangerously? Gods, did they know from the beginning she was truly possessed, or was it all accusation and guesswork?

She'd find no answers here, if it even truly mattered. Stepping outside, facing the sun and bustle of a camp at work, she hoped the voivode would not betray her.

…

He'd had his suspicions about the priestess, but he'd never thought Voiakh would put it together so easily. He made Laczlo feel like a fool. And now that he knew, nothing was stopping him from spreading the word. The Column would want her back, but after all she revealed, could he hand her over to the priests? Hardly. I made her and Oskar a promise anyway… I should see it through. Whatever she's trying to stop—this Daecinus, I suppose—I can't stand in her way. As always, things were far more complicated than whatever scheme he was currently tangled up in.

He drew his hand away from his cup and interlocked his fingers in his lap. The commander was silent across from him, waiting patiently for whatever he was working himself up to say. Laczlo, meanwhile, struggled to find the right words. After a long pause, perhaps nearly a minute, he asked, "I wasn't chosen by Iarek for this because of my religious leanings, was I?"

He cocked his head. "What do you mean, Laczlo?"

"I was used because I was expedient. Because Iarek had enough leverage on me to ensure loyalty. I have the resources and means to find the truth, but if all failed, I was disposable enough." He shook his head, looking at the ground, feeling embarrassed and vulnerable. "There's no reason to send a voivode to do a competent spy's job unless he knew that this would require formal power and significant loyalty. With my family in Nova, I cannot even consider any kind of betrayal or lie… if I were disposed toward such action, of course."

"Why do you ask this?"

"I want the truth. This journey, this intrigue… It's changed everything for me. And not just because of what I've discovered. My life will never be the same."

"He demands the truth while withholding much himself," the commander said with a shrug. His expression drifted towards even sobriety after a moment, lips flattening. "What do you wish me to say, friend? Iarek is a careful man."

He nodded, chewing at his lip, then stood. "I just wanted an answer, is all. Thank you. I will make all haste toward Nova. Whatever comes next shall be upon order from Iarek and the tsar." He turned to go, almost too ashamed to face the commander once more.

"Laczlo."

He forced himself to look back. "Yes?"

"You're too hard on yourself. Even after a mere month, I can see you've changed. You're stronger, sharper, more confident. Don't let a man like Iarek define you. Don't let anyone."

"Thank you, Voiakh," he said with a small smile, then left.

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