The Last Stand (The Eleven Years War: Book One)
Chapter Two

When Elise woke up the next morning,bright, golden sunlight was drifting through the window; bizarre, consideringwhat the weather had been like the previous night. Olrick had already gotten up,though she didn’t think that he’d been up for long; he was still in Milo’s bedwith the covers pulled over his legs. He’d managed to sit up in the bed and hadone of his short swords unsheathed and sitting on his lap. He’d found one ofher brother’s whetstones and was running along the sword’s blade, making aloud, grating sound.

Elisesat up in her bed and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Olrick already looked somuch better than he had the previous night: his skin had returned to what sheassumed was its natural, olive color, he didn’t look to be in as much pain ashe had the previous night; it seemed that a night of bed rest had really helpedhim, as far as his health was concerned.

WhenOlrick saw that she’d woken up, he stopped sharpening his short sword’s bladeand looked over at her, a guilty look on his face.

“DidI wake you?” he asked. Elise shook her head as she stretched her arms above herhead.

“Youdidn’t,” she said, running a hand through her hair. “Did you sleep alright?”Olrick nodded. She almost thought she saw a faint smile on his lips.

“Betterthan I have in a long time,” he said as Elise stood up. She walked over to thetrunk where her dresses were kept and opened it.

“Wouldyou happen to know what happened to my shirt?” Olrick asked as Elise pulled agreen dress and pulled it on over her white slip.

“Youcan wear one of my brother’s,” she said. “I kind of cut yours up trying to getto your burns.” Olrick opened the trunk by the foot of Milo’s bed and pulledout one of his shirts.

As he put on theshirt, Olrick turned his back to her to reveal a set of scars she hadn’t seenthe previous night. On his back was a set of long, old, raised scars that cutacross his back, coupled with red, fresh cuts. She hadn’t seen marks like themin a long time, not since they’d almost whipped that horse thief to death…

Her stomach began totwist itself into knots. The burns, the crossbow bolt, the lash marks… who wasthis boy, and what had he done to deserve all of this?

“A-areyou hungry?” she asked. He nodded, and the two of them walked outside thebedroom.

Pawas already awake and was sitting at one of the tables, eating some pottage.Since it was towards the end of the month, it consisted of vegetables they’dgotten during the last market day that was starting to go bad. However, Olrickdidn’t seem to mind the taste; in fact, he seemed to be enjoying it.

“Didyou sleep alright?” Pa asked as they ate. Olrick nodded, swallowing a spoonfulof pottage before he spoke.

“Yes,sir,” he said. He took another spoonful of pottage “Thank you for allowing meto stay here; I hope I’m not too much of a burden on you guys.”

“Youaren’t, don’t worry,” Pa said. The rest of the meal went along in a similarfashion. They asked Olrick where he was from, where he was going, how long he’dbeen a Watchman, and he politely answered each of their questions, addressingPa as “sir” and Elise as “ma’am”. By the time breakfast was over and the disheswere done, they knew him about as well as they knew some of their regulars, butthat wasn’t saying much.

Thefirst patrons of the day walked through the tavern doors soon after they’dfinished eating breakfast. Normally, they didn’t have anyone come in untilnoon, when workers from the quarry would come in during the lunch break;however, it was the end of the week, the day they were given to be with theirfamilies, or in the case of their customers, to spend the little money they’dearned in the quarry on food and ale. Elise, Pa, and Olrick, who’d insisted onearning his keep, set to work around the tavern. While Olrick swept the floorsand cleaned up after their customers had finished eating and drinking, Elisewaited on tables and Pa filled tankards with ale and bowls with pottage, pertheir patrons’ requests. It felt like an average day, until around noon, when he walked in.

Bramwas a soldier and the son of a quarry worker and a seamstress, who worked untilher fingers bled just so she’d have enough money to keep her family fromstarving, even with her husband drinking and gambling almost every coin the twoof them earned away. He sadly took after his father, harassing most every womanin Thaos who had any sort of physical virtue. Much to Elise’s horror, though,he seemed to take a special interest in her. Only the Gods knew how many timesMilo had come to her rescue while he was around. She’d thought that she wouldbe safe from him after he’d started military training and had to leave for LakeTown, but those hopes had been dashed the second she saw him walk through thedoor of the tavern.

Elisefroze in terror when she saw him. It couldn’t be him, could it? But it was; thebrown haired, brown eyed, tan soldier who’d tormented her for years hadreturned.

“P-pa…”she whispered. She couldn’t do it; she couldn’t go through it again. When hesaw him, Pa put a hand on her shoulder.

“It’salright,” he said quietly. “If I catch him harassing you, I’ll kick him out.”That wasn’t very reassuring. If Bram was anything, he was persistent; he’d replacesome way to make her miserable, even if Pa forbade him from ever walking intothe tavern again.

Despiteher fears, Elise walked over to the table Bram was sitting at to see what hewanted; if she were to simply ignore him, he’d just replace someone else in thetavern to make miserable, which would not only serve to make her feel guilty,but to scare away their customers, too.

“W-whatdo you need?” she stuttered. Bram smiled when he saw her.

“You’reeven prettier than you were when I left,” he said smoothly, slapping a fewcoins down on the table. A chill went down her spine. “How about some ale and abowl of pottage?” she took the coins and walked over to the bar where Pa was.She tried to keep from walking too fast; Bram would only be encouraged if heknew just how scared she still was of him.

“Areyou alright?” Pa asked once Elise had arrived at the bar. Her face was red hotwith embarrassment.

“Hewants some ale and a bowl of pottage,” she said quietly. He nodded and filled atankard with ale and a bowl with pottage.

Whilehe did that, Elise turned around and looked over at where Bram was sitting,across the tavern from the bar. She didn’t want to go back over there; she wastoo scared of what he would do to her if she resisted his advances. At the sametime, she couldn’t act like she was afraid of him. All that had done over the yearswas empower him.

Pahanded her Bram’s tankard and bowl. She took them and began to walk over to histable, her heart pounding so hard, she was sure that he could hear it.

“Doyou need anything else?” Elise asked Bram as she set the tankard of ale and thebowl of pottage down on the table. He leaned forward in his seat. She bit herlip to keep it from shaking.

“I’vebeen looking for some female company, actually,” he said. He began to brush hishand up her arm, sending more chills through her. “I’ve been kind of lonelysince I enlisted…” Elise backed away from him.

“I-Ihave to go-“ she turned around to leave, but he wouldn’t let her; he grabbedher by the arm.

“Bram,let me go,” Elise said as panic swelled up in her. When she looked him in theeye, she saw that any trace of human emotion had left him; they were wild, likesome sort of animal.

She’dnever been so scared in her life.

“Hey!”both Elise and Bram looked to the side, where the voice had come from. Olrickwas standing there, his hand resting on one of his short swords, his eyesnarrowed in anger. “I do believe she asked you to let her go.”

After a few momentsof stunned silence between the three of them, Bram shoved Elise away. Shestumbled and would’ve fallen to the ground, if a nearby quarry worker hadn’tcaught her.

“Whata noble Watchman,” Bram taunted as he approached Olrick, putting his hand onhis own sword. The entire tavern had become deadly silent, watching as Olrickstood his ground without even a hint of hesitation. “Tell me: are you alwayslike this, or just when you aren’t feeling too cowardly?”

Olrick’s grip on hissword tightened, but he didn’t say a word; obviously, he was used to theanti-Watchmen sentiment that was so common throughout Caitha, especiallyamongst soldiers.

“Listen,you two,” Pa said as he came out from behind the bar and walked towards thebrewing conflict. His voice filled with nervousness, as it should have been;the last brawl they’d had in the tavern had nearly ended in death. “Break itup, or take it outside-“ Bram turned his poisonous gaze at him and pointed.

“Shutup, old man!” he barked. Pa stepped back, afraid, while Olrick stepped forward,his anger beginning to show though his calm façade.

“Showsome respect,” he ordered. “I know Kurzhians with more manners than you.”

Everyone’s jawsdropped when they heard the insult, including Bram’s; Olrick might as well havetold him that he was little more than a dog. They were so shocked, nobodyseemed to notice the town’s silversmith rush out to warn the sheriff.

Thatwas the last straw for Bram. Without another word, he pulled a dagger from hisbelt and slashed at Olrick’s neck.

However,Olrick seemed ready for it. He stepped back, the dagger’s blade just barelymissing his neck, and grabbed Bram’s knife hand by the wrist. The next thinganyone knew, he had Bram pinned against a nearby table with his arm extended upin the air, the dagger skidding across the room from them. Bram squirmedbeneath him, but Olrick’s grip didn’t falter.

“Don’tmake me break your arm,” he said. He sounded quite genuine, but Bram didn’tthink so. He grabbed a nearby tankard, turned around, and smacked Olrick acrossthe face with it, hard. He stumbled back, putting a hand to his cheek. Bramgrabbed him by the shoulders and kneed him in the stomach. Olrick doubled over,his arms wrapped around his stomach, and Bram shoved him to the ground.

Thatwas when Bram’s sadistic side came out; at least, it tried to. He went to gokick Olrick while he was still laying on the ground, but he didn’t let him.Olrick lashed out at Bram’s legs with his foot, knocking him right off hisfeet. Bram fell to the ground, hard, as Olrick scrambled back to his feet,wincing; it seemed that his injuries from the previous night were coming backto haunt him.

Therewas a loud crack as the tavern door was thrown open. Everyone, including Bram,looked away from Olrick to see who it was.

“Whatin the gods’ names is going on here?!” The man who said it was one of the MPsstationed in Thaos to keep their tiny garrison in line. Two more stood behindhim with their batons drawn.

Bramgot to his feet, a smug look on his face. It looked like he thought he couldsweet talk his way out of this.

“Goodmorning, sirs,” he said cheerfully as Olrick wrapped an arm around his stomach.“We were just settling a little argument-“

“Saveit, Bram,” the head MP snapped as the two others walked in. “You’re underarrest for disturbing the peace.”

Elisefound herself breathing a sigh of relief. Thank the gods; it looked like Bramwould be behind bars for the rest of his time in Thaos. Olrick seemed comfortedby the fact, too. He stood up a little straighter and Elise even thought shesaw a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Trynot to look so smug, Watchman,” the head MP said. “You’re coming with us, too.”

Nowit was Bram’s turn to smile as one of the MPs walked towards Olrick, someshackles in his hands. The customers began to mutter under their breaths; itseemed that they didn’t think it was right, either.

“Hedid nothing wrong, sir,” Pa said, stepping before they could arrest Olrick. Thehead MP gave him a questioning look and held his hand up. The MP that was goingto arrest Olrick stopped, an almost sheepish look on his face.

Papointed at Bram. “That man tried to attack my daughter, and when this kindWatchman intervened, he tried to kill him.”

Thehead MP looked around at the other people in the tavern. “Is that true?”Everyone nodded and muttered their agreement.

The head MP waved hissubordinate back and looked over at Olrick.

“So,for once, a Watchman has managed to save the day,” he said, folding his armsover his chest. “What’s your rank? Do I need to charge this bastard withassaulting a superior officer, too?” Olrick nodded as he tried to stand alittle straighter, wincing in pain.

“I’ma commander,” he said.

Everyone’sjaws dropped when they heard that, including Elise’s. A commander? Nobody ofsuch a high rank had ever passed through Thaos before; she was under theimpression that they all lived in Semata and looked down on tiny towns likethis. The fact that one was not only standing right in front of them but hadcleaned up after them like some stable boy was mind boggling.

TheMP snorted as he looked over at Bram. “You really need to learn to pick yourfights better, you little shit.”

“He’slying!” Bram yelled. “There’s no way in hell he’s a commander!”

“Saveit for the court marshal,” the MP said. “Take him away.” The two other MPsdragged Bram out of the tavern, kicking and screaming like a child having atantrum, as Olrick sat down at one of the tables, running a hand through ishair.

“Areyou alright?” Elise asked once they were gone. He nodded.

“I’llbe alright,” he said. One of the customers handed him a mug filled with ale,which he gladly accepted.

“Thatone’s on me, mate,” the man said. “Anything for a tough bastard like you.”

GeneralRaul hated Caitha.

Tohis surprise, he hated it even more than he hated Kurzh. Many of his soldierstheorized that it was because he hated Princess Marion Matisse, the ruler ofthe small island. Others thought it was because of how the Caithians seemed tohave already given up; most everyone around him knew that he preferred to winafter a long, hard struggle rather than after hardly lifting a finger. Whilethose reasons were certainly among the long list of reasons he detested theisland he found himself invading, they weren’t at the top of the list: thereason he hated Caitha the most was because of the damned rain.

Hehated the rain: it soaked his clothes and chilled him to the bone that night ashe looked through his spyglass at his next target: a small town, similar to theones his army had already taken in the week they’d been in Caitha. They wouldtake it first thing in the morning, when the residents were still asleep, justlike they had with the other towns. Considering the fact that the town didn’teven have a proper garrison defending it, it would take less than an hour totake the town, if that.

“Readyyour men,” General Raul ordered the captain behind him, a blonde haired,blue-eyed veteran of the Kurzhian campaign by the name of Finn. “We’ll take thetown in the morning.

“Yessir,” Finn said. “Is that all?”

“Wouldyou happen to know the name of this town, captain?” General Raul asked. He maynot have been looking directly at him, but he knew that he would be confused;many of his men found his interest in knowing the names of the towns he’d personallyconquered strange.

“Iwas told that the name of this town is Thaos, sir,” he responded.

“You’redismissed, captain,” General Raul said. He could hear Finn clicking his heelsas he saluted him, then his steady footfalls as he walked away, likely to thesafety of his tent.

Thaos.It sounded much too like the name of the previous ruler, the headstrong onehe’d killed ten years ago. It would be a pleasure to conquer the town that was,likely named after one of the many rulers of Caitha.