Fourth Vector Ch. 49

"Oh, that kind of permanence."

"Is that not what you want?"

It was a loaded question, one that Trevor had heard before from other women all seeking the same thing. Back then, it had never truly felt right, and he always found his relationships stalling out by the time this conversation was had.

However, what he had with Nina was truly different. They'd struggled together, bled together, and fought just for the right to continue their way of life. In all, their army represented the state of their relationship--it thrived when they did.

Even on a more personal note, there was no way he could envision a future without Nina, which was why he found himself so distraught at the thought of losing her a couple weeks ago.

There was really only one answer to that question.

"If you're talking about marriage, then I think my answer is very clear and unwavering," said Trevor as he turned his eyes to her.

The look in her eyes became hopeful and expectant. It was exactly what she was hinting at, and she was waiting for his next words eagerly.

"I would have you as my wife if you'd entertain the idea," said Trevor, his lips curling upward into the thinnest grin. "And then we can really make our relationship permanent."

He was rewarded with the biggest smile that he'd ever seen from Nina.

"Are you sure that's what you want? There's no going back if we decide to get married. I don't believe in divorce."

"Well, now that you mention it..."

Nina smacked him in the stomach again.

"Ouch, you keep hitting the same spot."

"Trevor! Be serious for once."

"Okay, okay," he conceded, looking at her. "That's what I want. Is that what you want."

Nina nodded quickly. "I do want that. I do want to marry you."

Trevor offered her his hand. "Well, then, we have something to look forward to when this is all over."

Nina beamed with a triumphant smile. "Yes, we do, my love. Yes, we do."

*****

Michael's return to the Javan imperial palace was quite unlike the last time that he left it.

The last time that Michael was inside these impressive and gilded halls, he was at the height of despair. His beloved had been taken from him and all hope had been lost. He fled in order to find the measure of his soul, knowing that only death and depression awaited him at the palace.

And now here he was nearly a year later making his exultant return.

Not as a refugee or peasant beggar.

But as the latest Javan emperor.

Much had happened since he talked the two rebelling regiments over to his side. In an effort to disguise their rebellion, Michael had been elevated to the throne, and the fiction was that those two regiments were the first to recognize his lineage and switch their allegiance to the legitimate ruling house.

That was the kind of story that was given only to the masses. The real truth was that Michael made them that bargain so they could save face. They couldn't be tried as rebels if they were merely switching their allegiance to the legitimate Javan emperor, saving all of their hides. In a way, it tied all of them to the same fate, and now his regiments were in the process of brawling with the other city regiments in order to secure the entire city.

At least the imperial palace was in a section of the city that Michael controlled. And his reentry to the palace today was as the owner of the palace, not as a servant boy to the former tyrant.

Things had changed drastically in the past year.

Though Michael suspected that he'd eventually be able to talk over the other city regiments to his side, he knew his position was still vulnerable. There were two very large Javan armies out there somewhere, and either of them would be strong enough to crush Michael's forces within the city if they so chose. It was absolutely critical that he kept them in the field against their external enemies lest they come back to the city and extinguish his nascent rebellion.

There was also another path. If he could talk over the regiments in those armies, perhaps he wouldn't have to fight them in the long run. For that reason, he had emissaries sent out to both armies with offers of increased pay as well as peace should they recognize him as the legitimate emperor.

It was a long shot but it was the only way to secure his position on the throne. It was ironic in a way, as it was just the sort of move his great-uncle would have made.

Perhaps he was worthy of the Bainbridge family name after all?

"Michael!"

Michael's attention turned from the window he was peering out from and saw that Victor was walking bristly to close the distance. Michael wasn't the only one struggling with a big change that week. With Michael's ascension to the throne, he'd made Victor the one in charge of operations for the two army regiments under their command. In effect, it made Victor a general almost overnight, and the man was still struggling with the difference between commanding a relatively small group of rebels and issuing orders to those in the army.

"There you are, Victor. What's going on?"

Victor took a brief moment to catch his breath. "I just heard from Bergman, your newly-appointed colonel in full command of the 104th. His men have been skirmishing with elements of the still loyal 96th over by the West Market district. The fighting is getting heavier by the second."

"I take it he hasn't committed the full regiment then?" asked Michael.

Victor shook his head. "Just a battalion, but he's seeking your permission to up the ante. No one's trying to start a full-scale fight with the other regiments in the city but rather we're trying to give a show of strength. Give them every reason not to continue to resist us."

Michael thought about it for a moment and nodded. "That's sensible but you have to hope that they lose heart before our troops do. If it keeps escalating, we could have a full-blown fight on our hands. We need to try the political route."

"You say that like someone that already has something up his sleeve."

Michael let out a wry grin. "I've already sent men to talk to each regiment. I'd rather lure them to our side with words instead of bloodshed. We've all had more than enough bloodshed."

"If that's the case, do you want me to tell Bergman to disengage from the fight?"

"No, that's not necessary," said Michael. "Our show of strength in battle will only help our cause. The leaders of those other regiments will see that we're willing to fight for what we believe in. That's better off than letting them think we're too weak to fight."

Victor started to chuckle. "Ruling seems to suit you well, Michael. You have a natural mind for political theater."

Now it was Michael's turn to laugh. "The next month will determine if there's any truth to that. We might already be dead men and not realize it. I fully intend to use all of my strength to make sure we survive in the coming weeks."

With Victor soon running off to see to the fight, Michael made his way through the palace once more. He came to the part of the palace that was next to the kitchens, where he had spent so much time as a boy. For old time's sake, he slipped in through the double doors and looked around, reliving the memories of his prior life.

This time though, the kitchen was nearly empty. Artemis was nowhere to be found, along with ninety percent of the rest of the kitchen staff, many of whom had fled when Michael's forces took the city. No doubt, they were scared of the threat of retribution, even if Michael would never lift a finger against the staff.

That was the thing about war--it made otherwise rational people into frightened animals operating purely on instinct. And their first instinct was usually to run.

As Michael turned to leave, he bumped into someone else trying to get in through the double doors, pausing when he saw the identity of the newcomer.

A shocked gasp came from her as she registered his appearance.

"Michael, I'm so sorry," said Sarah, looking instantly sorrowful at causing the mishap.

"It's quite all right, Sarah," he said awkwardly, as he tried to keep his eyes focused on her face.

The tension between them had been just awful lately, and it was impossible to tell where her head was at in regards to him. In the past week, she'd blown up at him completely as well as kissed him when she thought he might be facing death.

Her signals were both hot and cold, and even now, she was definitely running cold.

"I'm just going to grab some food," she said, pointing to the kitchen. "I'll see you later."

With those words, the little pixie disappeared inside, leaving Michael alone with his thoughts.

More than anything, he wanted to ask her about that kiss. He wanted to know why she did it and what it meant to her but Sarah gave him no such opportunities to ask. When they did encounter each other, it was brief and friendly, yet sterile at the same time.

Something needed to change. He had to get to the bottom of this and figure out what she was feeling.

He just didn't expect that opportunity to present itself that night.

It all happened in the guest wing of the palace that evening, where Michael and his rebels had situated their sleeping quarters. Despite being formally declared emperor, Michael had resisted the urge to take over his great-uncle's living quarters. It just didn't feel right to him yet, and for that reason, he took a room that was opposite of the one that Sarah used.

Before he thought about going to bed, he went out into the hall to grab some water for the evening. It was as he was walking close to Sarah's room that he heard the soft sounds of crying.

Michael halted in his tracks, listening for the direction it was coming from. It was no surprise that it was coming from her room.

Her door was ajar far enough for him to listen at the crack for a moment as he decided what to do. Part of him wanted to leave it be and continue about his evening but the other part longed to figure out what made her so upset.

Especially if it was connected with him.

Finding the courage, Michael pushed the door open slightly and entered the room.

Though small by the standards of the imperial palace, the bedroom still dwarfed anything else in Java by sheer size alone. There were plenty of pieces of furniture--hutches, dressers, vanities and other accouterments of a royal bedroom. By far the largest and most dominant piece of furniture was the bed. That's where Michael found Sarah's hunched up and weeping form.

She was quick to notice his entrance.

"Michael?" she whispered, her voice choked with tears.

Michael wasn't sure why he did it but he kept moving until he was right next to the bed. Her eyes registered his presence but there was something different about them tonight than there was earlier. There was a warmth to them, an invitation that had been missing ever since coming back from the city.

Acting on instinct alone, Michael slipped into the bed and wrapped his arm around Sarah.

"I'm here," he whispered.

It was the best thing he could have done. Sarah reached her arm around him and clung to him, desperate not to let go. Her crying became much worse for several minutes as she leaned her head against his chest.

"I've got you, Sarah. You don't have to be so upset."

"I'm s-so worried," she whispered against him. "I'm worried about y-you."

Michael shifted so that he could look at her directly. "Why are you worried about me?"

Sarah gave him a look that said he should have known better than to ask that question.

"How can I not worry? You're now the emperor, at least one of them here in Java. There's a war going on and the other emperor will stop at nothing to kill you. Any day could find you dead by any number of enemies. It's not getting easier, Michael. It frightens me to worry about you so much."

With those words, Sarah shifted away from him, turning on her side. He could tell she was frustrated and that this was something she'd been giving a lot of thought to. Now all that frustration was boiling to the surface as one hot cauldron of emotion.

Michael followed after her, shifting on his side and wrapping his arm around her. His hand landed on her stomach, causing Sarah to gasp slightly but she didn't try to shift away. If anything, she started to press back against him, spooning her body with his.

"It's all going to be okay," he whispered to her. "We just have to take this one day at a time but it's going to take a lot for anyone to kill me, not now after all this bloodshed."

Sarah pivoted to look back at him. "Promise me, Michael."

"Promise what?"

"Promise me that you won't do anything stupid. That you'll do everything you can to stay alive. We all worry about you and we can't lose you. That's the worst thing that could happen."

Michael wondered if she really meant "we" in that moment or perhaps it was more telling to say "I." Taking a gamble, he went with the second option.

"You can't lose me, Sarah. I'm not going to let you go."

Sarah visibly stiffened at that moment, and Michael wondered briefly if he said the wrong thing. That melted away when Sarah grabbed his arm and held it tight, once more pushing her body back against his.

"Please don't let me go," she whispered. "I don't think I could handle it."

He honored her request by keeping his hold on her. For the next twenty minutes, neither of them moved apart from the soft rhythm of their breathing. Michael found that it was quite nice to be this close to Sarah, even as his primitive mind kept inserting thoughts about doing this without the clothing between them.

She's actually upset and you keep trying to picture her naked. What is wrong with you?

Shaking the thought from his head, Michael rustled the pillow enough that she noticed.

"Are you okay?" she asked sleepily.

"Just fine," he replied. "I think I'm falling asleep."

Sarah let out a small moan. "What a great way to sleep. I've been wondering what it would feel like to sleep like this. To sleep in your arms. Now I truly get to see for myself."

"I just hope it lived up to the hype."

Sarah laughed softly beside him. "It was even better than the hype. Trust me."

That was the last thing that was said that evening. Michael soon forgot all about his water from earlier and soon drifted off to the most peaceful sleep he'd had in some time.

Perhaps there was something that was very right about being this close with Sarah.

Why had it taken him so long to notice?'

*****

As the week progressed, Trevor noticed that General Zander was cut from a very different cloth than General Ryan.

For one, Zander was much more aggressive. His attack on that first day was followed up by another flanking raid the day after. Small-scale skirmishing was constantly taking place as well, as his troops seemed determined to resist as they were pushed back closer to their capital.

Another thing that set Zander apart was his inexperience. His raids were sloppy, as opposed to the precise and well-planned attacks that came from Ryan. Trevor saw the most evidence of this when Zander couldn't follow up his men's advances because he hadn't allocated enough troops to the attack, or when he left himself too vulnerable on one side. They were the kind of oversights that Ryan would never allow, and Trevor was already using the experience as fodder for a plan to attack Zander's weaknesses.

Today was bound to be an important day though.

Trevor had word that his envoy in Lockhaven had made contact with Jack Kincardine (as he preferred to be called now) and that there was promising news regarding his alliance proposal.

For that matter, he was pacing just outside his camp when the envoy finally arrived.

Nate the envoy was a relatively recent addition to the army, only coming to their ranks during the Thessalian sojourn. He was relatively young by those standards and since he wasn't a very good shot, it had been decided that he would be a runner for the army, carrying messages where they needed to go. In that avenue, his youth was a blessing as he could outrun men much older than him with his youthful exuberance.

Today was no different, and despite having traveled across a great distance to meet the other runner, Nate looked hardly any worse for wear.

"General Downing, sir! I have great news from our man in Lockhaven!"

Trevor offered him some water before he could get out the message. "Take a deep breath and a sip of water, Nate. Collect your thoughts first and then tell me what's going on."

The young man did exactly that, taking more of a chug of the water than a sip but as he wiped his mouth clean, he was ready to spill everything.

"I have news regarding Jack Kincardine," said Nate in a much more measured tone. "He has agreed to our alliance against Bancroft and he lists a few terms for the success of the alliance."

"What kind of terms did he list?" asked Trevor.

"Nothing that is too much. He wants assurances that we will coordinate with him in pressing Bancroft and his forces back to the capital for his surrender. He also wants to be the one to kill Bancroft for what the man did to his family."

Trevor gave him a confused look. "What did he do to his family?"

Nate winced. "Killed them in cold blood. Beheaded them and sent their heads in a box to him. Not even soldiers or anything like that. One family, with a woman and innocent children and they were still killed."

"Ah, well I can see why he wants to put his hands on Bancroft and be responsible for his death," said Trevor. "I have no issues with that as long as Bancroft dies in the end. What other terms are there?"

"Kincardine will keep the alliance as long as it takes until Bancroft is defeated but he has no interest in taking the Javan throne when this is all over," explained Nate. "He is willing to discuss with you the nature of a postwar peace settlement, one that would include Tyrolean independence."

"Then who would take over the Javan throne?" asked Trevor. "He really doesn't want it?"

Nate shook his head. "No, but from what I've been hearing, there's already a pretender to the throne in Belfort. Someone who has taken control of the city and is now calling themselves the new emperor. Perhaps there's an opportunity in that?"

Indeed there was, and Trevor had just heard that news as well. There was someone in Belfort calling himself an heir to the Bainbridge emperors that was now in charge, or at least he'd manage to talk over the city garrison to his side.

For the first time in centuries, there were now two Javan emperors, and the cracks of sovereignty were a promising sign. All Trevor had to do was outlast the Javans and there was a good chance their state would completely crumble under pressure.

"Have you heard any other news?" asked Trevor a moment later.

"Just that Kincardine's army is now on the march south. It's expected to run into Bancroft's main force within a day or two. Whoever gains victory there will be most telling about the chances of success for our cause."

It would be telling indeed. If Jack Kincardine was beaten, there was nothing to stop Bancroft from uniting his army with Zander and crushing Trevor's. Then it wouldn't matter that there were two emperors.

Bancroft would simply stomp out this pretender like he was nothing more than a fly.

"Keep me posted on what happens up there," said Trevor. "I want to know the result of that battle before anyone else."

"You got it, General Downing."

After seeing Nate off, Trevor walked back inside his camp to find Gavin's tent, an idea forming with every brisk step that he took. When he found the man sitting on his cot and looking at a dispatch, Trevor called him to attention.

"Bancroft's army is going to be engaged in battle the next day," said Trevor. "I want us to do the same. I want Java's forces to be totally crushed at the same time. Get word to the men and let's start making a plan to exploit what we know about General Zander."