Aia's sermon ended after each of the villagers took a sip. Trenewynn stayed last in line to drink and took the lightest sip of refreshing water. When the communion finished and each villager moved outside to partake of the festival, Trenewynn stayed behind while Aia cleaned the instruments on the altar.
She cleaned the disc, dumped leftover water from the ewer into a basin at the side, and made clear the altar of any objects. When these labors were done, she addressed her old mentor.
"It's been about eleven years since I saw you last, sir Trenewynn. Not since I was still a girl."
"I remember, you were only a tad higher than my knees back then."
"You jest, I was not that little."
"Perhaps not…"
A pause settled between them. One could hear the celebrations in full swing. Dancing and singing were audible beside laughter. Clearly the festivities were proceeding finely without the priestess. Though perhaps her absence would make the more mischievous villagers prone to rambunctiousness.
It was clear they had not spoken in a long time. Aia's gaze betrayed a searching of sorts. She was unsure how to brooch conversation with her old mentor.
Trenewynn took the lead.
"I saw six bands of men passing through the Apollicos duchy on my way here. There's been a large influx of men gathering in the southern territories. I also crossed by a group of mercenaries in Lithopolis who claimed that work was to be found in Heathcliff. The borders are stretched with armies all over."
"The priesthood has yet to make a statement, though politics is brewing. There's been hostility rising of late towards the Mahadrum. The central Westmans are now saying that we're mixed with beasts and other vulgar things. It's ill-boding when a kingdom's people begin to turn on each other."
Trenewynn nodded, "I have to travel to Anor, and thought I'd stop here along the way."
"You plan on leaving again so soon? But Anor is a five month ride from here and you're on foot. Why are you always on the road– like you're running from something."
"Tis' the nature of my work. If my old friend in Anor is still as I remember, then he would not be idle in this dark political tide."
"But what of here? Of the small and humble folk of Faelenshire, Baedenshire, Amar-lan, and all the small places in this vast empire's shadow? Is it not enough to live humbly in the countryside– divorced from these city-folk's wars?"
Trenewynn's eyes were sad, "little Aia, you've grown to carry such burdens, though I wished only for your joy. Would you not trouble yourself with me? I promise that there is no danger."
"But there is danger," she accused, "I am not a child any longer sir Trenewynn. I know there is danger and death brewing. The church is quieter than it should be, the lesser nobles raise taxes and call to arms their peasants as levies, rumors avail the lands with tales of black riders that kill any who pass them by. Something terrible is coming."
There was a twitch in Trenewynn's brow upon hearing of the black riders.
Aia caught the microgesture at once, "what is it? You know of these riders?"
Trenewynn's posture tightened, "it is no matter. They're rumors and only."
"Liar, you've seen them."
"Aia, I'm asking you to stop. This is no matter of your concern."
"But it is my concern! Tell me now that you've seen them or not?"
"Please, Aia! Stop!"
Her breath caught. A bout of laughter was heard dully from the village proper. Perhaps a joke had been told or a local performance impressed– or failed. That humor outside juxtaposed Aia's silence.
"Why are you always so mysterious…"
Trenewynn's voice turned paternal, "understand Aia, I would not hide things from you were it not for your protection. I love the countryside, and its people. That is why I would not see you burdened by troubles."
"But it is my decision to make! I wish to face these troubles too!"
"And you may yet, but I will not be the one to deliver it to you."
A loud bang was heard. The party's rancor was truly extreme now.
Trenewynn sighed, "perhaps you should see to the festivities. They're quite out of hand by now. I will be imposing on you for a day, then I will leave on the morrow at daylight. I pray it does not trouble you further."
There was a finalistic sense in Trenewynn's voice. He took to a room at the chapel's side and Aia moved to the bustling village outside. She began to set right a group of unruly children and moved about the festival to ease her mood. All set were tables by many foods; cheeses and breads and fruits from the hills, rare venison not often enjoyed by the townsmen was a favorite of the kids.
And wine, dry as the desert and sharp as a sword, they drank it heartily until it turned their faces positively rubicund and glassy-eyed. Aia did but press two fingers to her brow and pinch her forehead to stem the headache rising within herself.
She did not bother to try and correct the behavior of the men, instead she questioned one of the farmers that was presently past the sound limits of wine.
"Asher, where is Cornelia and Alessia and Kathrine? Where are the wives to watch their reckless husbands?"
The farmer's eyes squinted and then widened, "oh! Miss Aia! You're here at last… Uh, Cornelia's talking with the other wives."
His hand twitched towards another cup of wine, which Aia quickly moved from the path of his hand.
"You've had quite enough, which is why your wife should be watching you. All of you."
Aia gestured to the general collective of men that were feasting and drinking unrestrained.
"W-well…"
"Where is she?" pressed Aia.
"Er… I think she went to the west dale, they were all talking about having a moment alone from the party."
A brow raised, "what for?"
Again his hand reached for a cup of wine only to be swatted by the priestess. He grumbled and side-eyed the priestess before answering.
"I don't know wha–" a belch broke his speech.
"Ahem… excuse me. I don't know what they left for, Cornelia just said t'was for womanish things… Which suits me fine. I'm happy to have my wines and foods, if it pleases you then…"
Aia sighed as the farmer again reached for the wine. Rare was the occasion for a hard working man to drink himself stupid– and it wasn't her man anyways. She departed to find the wives and set them back to watching their husbands in the village.
At the west dale the wives were chatting on a blanket with sandwiches and water. Aia paused for a breath when she heard them conversing.
"I say, that tanned man who came in from the east was a sight to behold," claimed one.
"I second that, he looked like one from those old days, back when the title of man carried weight."
"If only Darrion was still in his prime, my husband hasn't looked that good in years."
"Oh be civil Kathrine, Darrion looks just as good as he used to working the farms, it's just a tragedy for our husbands that such a fine man blew in with the wind."
"Or a fortune that it didn't happen sooner. If I was Aia's age when that man arrived I'd have been swooning all over him."
Aia took Cornelia's comment as a summoning and approached them proper, "is that what you think, miss Cornelia?"
"Ah, priestess Aia, apologies. My comment was improper."
"Quite alright, I know you mean no offense. Though I wonder if you've the time to be chasing men at your age when you've one already a handful. Asher and the rest are too drunk to handle the children."
Alessia took a hand to her face and sighed, "what trouble… It seems our moment of peace is over is it?"
"Unless you wish your husbands hangovers trouble you all for the next ten days that is," said Aia.
The festival proceeded through the afternoon and into the setting dusk. Aia walked to the outskirts of Faelenshire where the unruly children now sow the fields as punishment for their misbehavior during celebrations.
One little girl teetered on a fence and sang nurseries while the boys worked.
Silver City of shining splendor
Dancing drifting on the clouds
What spell, what wonder lifted you
And set you high to cast your shroud?
Upon the earth we watched you fall
And make that grating screeching sound
Archon masters, the lords of all
Brought low from high to hit the ground.
Upon the earth we watched you fall
We saw your majesty crumbling down
Oh archon masters, the lords of all
What brought you low to hit the ground?
Silver City of shining splendor
Dancing drifting on the clouds
What spell, what wonder doomed you all
And set your star on earth to fall?
Aia called out to the girl, "Josephine, get off that fence before you fall and hurt yourself."
The girl's teetering grew strained as Aia called out to her. Her little arms flailed for a moment before she caught her balance. Only after she stepped down from the fence did she reply.
"Sorry miss Aia…"
"Singing Starfall again? You've a beautiful voice, little Josephine. Your mother would be sad if it was lost because of recklessness. Why don't you help her clean up after the mess which the festival caused."
Josephine grumbled, "but it wasn't me!"
"Even so, your mother needs help. It is proper to assist your parents, you know this."
The little girl pouted though compliant.
As she departed Aia turned then to the boy in the fields.
The Farm boy was in his mid or late teens, tilling the soil in preparation for the planting later. He wore a tan on his neck and back derived from the previous summer's heat.
"Matthiew, where are your brothers?"
The boy wiped a layer of sweat from his brow and let out a puff before answering.
"Sorin and Lot are on the hill to watch the soldiers."
Aia nodded, "thought they could escape did they? Clayton doesn't monitor you boys well enough."
"Dad's out cold after the wine. Don't know how he stands that stuff, yuck."
Matthiew stuck out his tongue to punctuate the statement.
Aia chuckled, "you may grow into liking it, though I rather hope not."
"Not to worry, Miss Aia, that stuff tastes nasty if you ask me."
"As you were…"
Aia moved to the hill above the wheat fields and spied two children bickering.
"Well, which do you think is stronger? The Dragon of the West, or Saint Ramnicus?"
"Obviously the Dragon is! Duke Drakennide is the greatest knight in the empire!"
"B-but Saint Ramnicus is an ancient wizard from the old times! They say he has the power to drive back the Dark Mists!"
"Well if that's true then why are they still here? He's just an old wizard anyways. Knights are strong and heroic, women want them and men want to be them!"
The younger of the two, perhaps offended, shot back, "plenty of people want to be wizards too! People will pay a fortune for their services and they're respected round the world! The elite in every nation, even a man lost in the desert knows who Saint Ramnicus is!"
The two boys were ready to argue when Aia stepped in.
"Now, now, the both of you. You were told to till the fields and yet your eldest is all alone down below."
"Who do you think is better, Miss Aia? Is it Lord Drakkennide or Saint Ramnicus?"
"Don't ask her, she's a priestess! She'll never give a fair reply!"
The priestess laughed, "oh Sòl's breath, just help your brother."
"Not until I hear your answer," said the younger sibling.
"Well if he's not going, then I'm not going."
Both crossed their arms and pouted.
"Heavens, your stubbornness will be the death of your mother… How about this, I believe that both the Dragon of the West and the Saint of Anor are honorable heroes of our empire."
"But who's better!?"
"Well, I suppose it's true that I find Saint Ramnicus to be the more dashing and handsome of the two. Though of course, Lord Drakkennide is impressive in his own way too."
The older boy proclaimed, "aha! You admit it yourself!"
"Yes now please, Sorin… stop with this stubbornness."
Despite repeated insistence by Aia, the boys were exhausting in their resistance. As she tried again to usher them to the fields, the younger boy pointed outward beyond the hill and shouted.
"Look Sorin– look out there, the soldiers are passing!"
"What!? Wait just a minute Miss Aia…"
He bustled up the hilltop, leaving Aia to pinch her brow again in frustration.
"Such impulsive boys… How does Jane handle them both, I wonder?"
Beyond the hill there lay an organized march of men. They walked Constantine's Road into the pass of the Anor mountains.
Sorin exclaimed aloud, "I've never seen a force this size before!"
But Aia's thoughts were different, her gaze was worried and an utterance whispered from her lips.
"Niether have I…"
There were many banners for the different lieges. The foremost was approximately one or two hundred men marching along the black and brass-trimmed standards of Helios. Beneath the primary colors, blue ribbons fluttered. The emblem of a white dog was embroidered on the coats of the forward infantry.
Aia knew these men, they belonged to the count of Doreanne's army. Behind them proceeded a mix of many forces from different noble lords. Primarily, it was the men of counts from different counties across the eastern territories. But one large procession especially stood out.
"Look at that!" said Lot.
"Those riders are completely covered in armor, even their horses have it! Amazing…"
The priestess narrowed her gaze. Beneath the banners were royal purple ribbons— prestigious. A duke's army at the very least she surmised.
Yes…" she muttered, "I see them."
How could a priestess of the empire not recognize the imperial cataphract, the living legends of the empire. They trotted behind the infantry, carrying lances that concealed their whole arm in the conical base and narrowed twelve feet high to a point.
Each horse was taller than a man by two and a half heads and their muscles were bred for war. A giant rounded shield lay dangling at the side, nearly covering the entire destrier's body save for the head and ass.
The shield was affixed with exuberant designs. If one could inspect it closely, they would see tiny portrayals of beasts, gods, horned monstrosities, serpents, eagles, men, and so forth… all littered in small arches and bends of the shieldframe.
The riders bore bronze masks embellished with the same exuberance as the shields and bearing a carved glare on their faces. There was lamellar covering the abdomen; riveted into the shoulders, elbows, wrists, as well as the knees and ankles too. Scale plates were layered on top at the chest, arms, leg guards and sabatons. Each plate of a thickness equal to half a man's pressed thumb. Black cloaks made of finely-woven cotton fluttered behind them. Paldrons with solar designs and stylistic exuberance covered the shoulders. A large horseman's saber with a thick body for added weight was secured behind the saddle, awaiting its use.
The Horse also had lamellar to cover its neck, abdomen, and legs. Scale plates covered core regions like the chest and head, which had a sharp, angular appearance like a dragon's head. Above their Manica Quilts which were affixed with bronze plates, a venetian-red cloak warmed the warhorses.
It was widely spoken in the empire and the Heartlands, and even in the east that the imperial cataphracts could not be stopped by any mortal force on earth once they charged. For the weight they carried– both horse and rider, was that of the empire itself. Such as it was then that no mere duke could fund this cavalry.
Aia glanced at the emblems on each rider's coat. The Gold Stallion, an emblem of Calia. These cataphracts belonged to the third prince, his imperial majesty Elijah Pendrickson Titanus. He had sent this army to support the duke of Sumelo. But whether it was to repel the creatures of the Dark Mists, or to drive back the Kar'kashan tribes, it remained an unprecedented force in the south. Their numbers were in the thousands.
Aia ushered the boys, "Sorin, Lot, go down and help your brother till the fields, dusk will fall soon at this rate."
"But the soldiers aren't yet passed? Can't we stay until they're done entering the mountain pass?"
"You'd be waiting all night if I let you do that. You got to see the soldiers, so help your brother. The grain tax was raised recently and we need to pay it quickly now. Every seed planted this cycle will count."
The boys both grumbled and obeyed. They wandered down the hillside to the fields in order to rejoin their brother Matthiew. Aia shook her head to the children's stubbornness. She glanced again at the passing army.
A bad portend; the army marched ever onwards to the south.