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Sir Talwin Draweswerd walked through the streets of Tallenbere, the kingdom's capitol by himself.  Without his armor he felt unusually light, his job as the princess' guard had made him used to its weight over the years.  Still this was the noble district so he hardly felt vulnerable thanks to the guards that seemed to be at every street corner.

He thought about all he learned from the reports from the Crusade as he walked.  There was a lot to take in but by focusing on the area where that mercenary seemed to appear on the Eastern Flank he was able to keep the task manageable.  He also thought he found a way to make Albin come up innocently in a conversation.

The key was to focus on the near collapse of the Eastern Flank and the lead commanders in the area at that time: Duke Begley and Count Rahm.  Talwin knew of Duke Begley by his reputation as an inspired commander but had never even heard of the Count before he saw the reports.

By reading between the lines of the Duke's letters he managed to find exactly what he needed.  Duke Begley was hardly a colorful writer, his style was actually very bland, and he had a tendency to tiptoe around sensitive topics.  This made it hard to get a clear picture of what happened on the flank.  There were enough clues for Talwin to piece it together, though.

In his letters the Duke would occasionally complain about Count Rahm.  The complaints were hardly scathing but the fact that Duke Begley complained at all was telling.  He often said his Second-in-Command sent troops off on fool's errands.  Later letters also mentioned increasing tensions between the two and ultimately pointed to errors committed by Count Rahm as the reason for the near collapse of the whole eastern front.

Surely his friend, Count Brimhall, would know more about the situation.  He knew his friend fought closer to the center of the Crusade's advance but hoped information from other areas was shared freely between commanders.  Hopefully his friend would know something about Albin, or would at least know who to ask.

When he at last reached the Brimhall Estate he paused just out front to make sure he was presentable before continuing.  The guards posted at the gate immediately noticed his silver fur and moved out of the way while offering their greetings.  He gave a curt reply, walked up to the entrance without pausing, and rapped lightly on the door.

The sound of the door's mechanism clicked and a servant poked his head outside.  "Who is it?" he asked, squinting as the sun briefly blinded him.

"Sir Draweswerd, here to visit the Count."

"Sir Draweswerd!" the servant repeated as he opened the door, ushering Talwin inside.  "It's been a long time since your last visit.  The master will be pleased to see you again."

"My duties unfortunately kept me busy I am afraid," he said.  "Where is the Count right now?"

"In the study," the servant told him.  "If you'll follow me I'll announce you."

Although Sir Draweswerd knew the estate well enough that he did not need the escort he accepted it anyway.  Normally he would not even feel the need to follow all this protocol, he was very good friends with the Count after all, but this time his visit was business and courtesy dictated.

They arrived shortly at the entrance to the study and Sir Draweswerd waited outside while the servant went ahead of him.  He checked his outfit one last time just to be sure, then entered after he heard his name announced.

Count Brimhall was sitting at a desk, several ledgers opened in front of him.  "Talwin, it has been ages since I saw you last.  How are you?"

"I have missed you as well, Jonas.  Live has been treating me well," he answered.  "And you?  One of your letters mentioned you got wounded in the Crusade."

His friend nodded.  "Some insolent feline peasant stuck a spear in my thigh.  Normally not too bad a wound but it started to fester so I came back home to let it heal."

"Your leg looks like it is mostly healed," Sir Draweswerd observed.  "Will you be returning to the Crusade soon?"

"I do not know," the Count sighed, "the wound is healed but my leg is still weak.  The physicians assure me I have healed completely but it will take several months for the strength to return.  Honestly, though, it has been a nice break.  I am actually finding that I prefer administering my holdings to tramping around in search of battle."

"There is not anything wrong with that," he assured his friend.  "Besides nobody can claim you were afraid to do your duty to God."

"We will see.  How has everything been here while I was away."

Talwin shrugged.  "The same as always.  Feuds between the same families as they vie to improve their station.  Not as many full battles since most of the troops are off in the holy land, but there is a lot of skirmishing."

"You rarely send me any letters while I was away," Jonas admonished.  "What have you been up to these past years?"

He could not help smiling.  "Sorry, I have been kept very busy.  As you know I managed to join the Royal Guard shortly before you left.  It is a much harder job than I expected.  Lots of traveling, either to complete some task or while guarding a member of the family."

The Count looked surprised.  "Really?  I thought the point of the Royal Guard was simply to protect the King and his family."

"Maybe initially, but the King is fond of making us be as useful as possible and his children have followed suit.  He especially likes to have us investigate troublesome noble families.  You would not know much about it because it is never announced that way, but it happens just the same."

Jonas thought about that for a moment before smiling.  "I hope that is not the reason for today's visit," he joked.

"Not at all, most of the problem families hold lands on the fringes of the kingdom," Talwin said assuringly.  "This is a business visit, though."

"I suspected as much.  What brings you then?"

"Well, a couple years ago I was promoted to Captain of the Princess's personal guards and -"

"Really?" Count Brimhall asked.  "That is a prestigious post, your parents must be proud."

"Actually my father was not pleased initially.  I think he wanted me to retire so I would be permitted to help run the family holdings.  He has come around, though, and my younger brother is now old enough to help so it all worked out."

"And Princess Katherine?  What is she like?"

"Driven," he answered.  "You would not believe how hard she works and expects everyone else to be just as productive.  She has ambitions and is not the type of woman to sit passively while hoping for things to turn out the way she wants."

"I heard as much," Count Brimhall said, nodding to himself.  "Did you know there are even rumors that she seeks to pass her brother in the succession?"

Inwardly he winced.  "Actually that is true.  Her brother is not please, as you might expect, and even less happy that their father is giving the possibility serious consideration."

"Really?" Jonas looked genuinely surprised.  "Surely the king must realize that if he did that there would be a revolt against his daughter.  Why even consider such a foolish idea?"

"There are some nations that regularly have Queens instead of Kings," Sir Draweswerd offered hopefully.

His friend looked unconvinced.  "I suppose," he said.  "Have you been sent here to get my support for the Princess?  You know that is too risky for me to do and I would not feel comfortable being the first one to bend knee to a woman."

"No, nothing like that.  Actually she wanted to know a few things about the Crusade.  It has caught her interest so she started reading the early reports send from there."

'I would not have thought the princess would be interested in such a brutal topic."

Sir Draweswerd shrugged, feigning ignorance.  "Well she does not know much about war, maybe she is trying to learn.  Makes sense if she wants to be Queen and there is not a better recent example than the Crusade."

"Possibly," Count Brimhall said quietly and drummed his fingers on the desk for a moment.  "Well, was there something specific she had in mind or should I just tell you what comes to mind?"

"Actually she is most interested in the near collapse of the Eastern Flank," Sir Draweswerd said.

"Count Rahm."  His friend spat the name like it was a curse.  "Arrogant whelp convinced of his own brilliance.  At least he had the good sense to get himself killed."

Seeing the sudden emotion on his friend's face gave Talwin pause.  "The princess is actually more interested in hat happened and how the flank was saved then learning about that fool."

Jonas's fingers started to tap the desk for a moment before he spoke.  "Well, I was not there to see any of it but I did get a chance to speak with some of the knights who were.  Some of them even managed to survive being under Count Rahm's command.  Really the problem came just as the Crusade was getting started."

"Really?  I had not heard that."

"You see, Rahm's uncle was a little worried about how his nephew would handle being in command so he used his connections to make sure the Count would be second in command for Duke Begley.  He figured there was not a safer place to be and that it would give his nephew the chance to learn from the best."

"The count saw it differently?" Sir Draweswerd asked.

His friend nodded.  "He was livid and took it as an insult.  Of course he would not disobey, but he did not like being second in command, not even to a legend like Duke Begley.

"At first things apparently went well enough.  He planned his own troop maneuvers and early on was successful enough.  Granted he only took on fairly simple tasks but even so the results were good.

"Problem was he never changed his tactics and the enemy eventually learned how to counter him.  They lost a lot of units, mostly conscripts but also a few groups of seasoned troops, because of his inflexibility."

"How did he take that?" Talwin wondered.

"From what I heard, the same way any spoiled brat takes failure: blaming others.  'The enemy was not fighting honorably' or 'The men fighting for me were cowards' or 'I was not given nearly enough men.'  Since he was second in command nobody dared to speak up.

"The Duke did offer his assistance but Count Rahm turned it down every time.  There was a lot of friction between them from then on but somehow the situation managed to remain stable until feline raiders started to strike at the supply trains."

"So they were stalling.  Why was that a problem?"

"Like most spoiled brats the Count was impatient," Jonas explained.  "Rather than doing something reasonable like patrolling the supply route in force or putting supply trains under heavy escort he sent units out to hunt down the troublesome enemy in a series of uncoordinated actions."

"I presume it did not work out?"

"Ambushes shifted form the supply convoys to the troops trying to find the enemy.  Because they were fairly isolated many units took heavy losses.  Some were even completely annihilated.  So the Duke stepped in and took over."

"His letters mentioned something about that.  He split his forces between himself and Count Rahm," Talwin remembered.  "The Count was supposed to hold a defensive position while Duke Begley dealt with the ambush problem."

"That is correct," Count Brimhall confirmed.  "He started a methodical sweep of the whole area.  Any time resistance was encountered he had it wiped out before moving on.  Meanwhile Count Rahm sat on a nice ridge to ensure the supply lines stayed open.


"But eventually the Count decided to take the next city.  Just a small one called Jutesford.  Nobody really knows why and he died so his reasons were lost with him.  My best guess is that he resented being left behind and thought the Duke was trying to hog all the glory.  The reason hardly matters, though.  His command was shattered while caught between the city walls and another army the felines sent to shore up their flank."

"The Duke's letters said the loss of Count Rahm's army was bad," Talwin said.  "From what I saw that is the largest understatement I have ever heard.  Half of the men on the Eastern Flank were lost and he found himself in a running battle without access to supplies."

"It was close to the worst disaster that could have happened," Jonas confirmed.  "If his force had failed we would have been completely outflanked and cutoff from the ports we secured early in the campaign.  Of course we sent reinforcements immediately but at the time nobody really believed they would arrive in time."

"So what happened to change the situation?"

"One of the Duke's scouting parties entered a small town and found a whole unit of our troops.  Mostly spearmen and skirmishers, but there were some heavier infantry mixed in.  There were not that many, a couple hundred at most, but they were well rested and fed which was more than could be said for the Duke's forces at that point.

"Duke Begley took command of these troops and placed them on a small hill with a well near the top along with portions of his own forces and all their remaining artillery pieces.  Meanwhile he took the rest of the army and swung wide in a flanking maneuver."

"I seem to remember reading about this as well," Sir Draweswerd said.  "The vanguard of the feline force arrived several days later and attacked, thinking it was just a small occupation force.  When they were driven back they realized they were up against something much tougher and called up the bulk of the force the next day in the belief that they had pinned down the retreating Crusaders."

"When the attack came Duke Begley's troops hit the flank and mauled them very badly.  From what I hear fighting was quite vicious but ultimately the felines took the worst of it and were forced to withdraw or be destroyed.  After that skirmishes erupted all over as the felines tried to find the advantage again.  Eventually the reinforcements arrived and the advantage was firmly ours once more."

Sir Draweswerd leaned a little closer.  He tried to sound unconcerned beyond casual interest but his heart pounded in his chest.  "Out of curiosity, who was put in command of that newly formed unit?"

"I did not mention it?" Count Brimhall asked.  "It was a commoner, apparently the same one that managed to form it from the remains of lost units.  Unusual I know, but since it was just a bunch of common troops nobody objected at the time; there were hardly any officers to spare anyway.  Apparently the peasant did well enough that Duke Begley did not have him removed afterwards."

"You still have not given me a name," Talwin pressed.

Jonas started to drum his fingers again.  "I do not see why it should matter," he said at last.  "He was apparently a good commander, as far as peasants go, but still not noble born."

"The Princess may want to know," Sir Draweswerd explained.  "If he had something to do with stabilizing the flank it might be that she would want to find out what happened to this peasant."

The Count seemed satisfied with the explanation.  "His name was Albin," he answered. "As far as what happened to him, that is something I can tell you.  Most nobles who had any clue about what was going on knew about that one."

"Oh?  He grew famous?  Or infamous?"

Fingers drummed on the desk once more.  "Some of each I suppose.  He remained under Duke Begley's command and apparently learned quite a bit.  Also had some tricks of his own.  From what I heard the Duke even started to rely on him, if you can imagine that.  It made a lot of the nobility resentful."

That got his attention.  "Really?  He was that good at winning battles?"

"Oh, he won most of the time but that was not the reason," Count Brimhall said, fingers still drumming on his desk.  "The felines do not have much in the way of heavy armor because of how hot it is in the Holy Lands.  So long as you can compel them to battle in a place where they do not have overwhelming numbers or an advantage of terrain any competent commander will usually win.  Our armor is just that much better than what they usually wear."

"Then why rely on this Albin?"

"They move swiftly because of their light armor, especially their cavalry.  Meanwhile our heavy armor forced our troops to move slower and required much larger supply trains than normal to carry water.  It was a challenge to force a decisive battle on our terms because the felines could just move faster than us."

"Surely they would have to defend their cities and castles?"

"They did, though mostly through skirmishes that would slowly exhaust our troops until the heathens felt comfortable with launching a direct attack."

Talwin considered that, still confused.  "What does this have to do with the peasant?"

"He was able to make his men move quickly," the Count answered, looking down at his hands.  "Left the baggage trains behind.  It made his troops much faster to move so he could catch the enemy.  Others tried doing the same thing but either their men balked at the idea or they made some mistake.  Somehow this peasant was able to keep the loyalty of his troops and keep them from getting killed while relying on their ability to find what they needed."

"What happened to him?  Is he still in the holy land or did he return home?"

"He left," Count Brimhall answered.  "Almost as soon as the Crusade was declared a success.  Most of the clergy were happy; he apparently would express blasphemous thoughts sometimes.  Many nobles were also relieved because they did not like that he was successful.  He was knighted by Duke Begley, but just to show you how much the nobility resented him nobody present at the ceremony offered to be his liege.  I think it was a mistake.  Someone like that was too useful to loose and too dangerous to leave to his own devices."

"Why did the Duke not offer to be his liege?" Talwin asked.

Jonas gave him an incredulous look.  "You really think he could?  It would insult every blooded Knight in the Crusade by valuing a mere low-born hedge Knight above them!"

"I suppose not," he said sheepishly.  "I have never been very good with politics.  Always felt my role was that of a soldier."

"So, why is the Princess so interested in a peasant commander?"

Talwin felt his whole body go stiff.  "I have no-"

Count Brimhall interrupted him.  "Talwin, you are a bad liar.  It is refreshing but it makes me feel embarrassed for you.  Nobody shows that much interest in a peasant commander without a reason.  He is what you were interested in, not the Eastern Flank."

"Jonas, please..."

His friend sighed.  "I have told you everything you asked.  Knowing why you wished to learn about that man seems a small favor in comparison."

"I do not know," he said, avoiding his friend's eyes, then hastily continued.  "Even if I do you must realize I am not permitted to speak about it."

"True enough, I suppose," the Count said.  "Perhaps some other favor?"

"What did you have in mind?"

Jason slowly pushed himself to his feet.  "I have missed your company.  Would you like to join me for a quick ride?"

Talwin noticed how uneasily his friend stood, one hand on the desk to keep himself steady.  The wound to his leg must have been much worse than he let on if it still gave him that much trouble.  "Are you sure your physicians will not mind?"

"They encourage it actually," Jonas answered.  "It is supposed to help me regain strength in the leg."

"Of course I will accompany you, since that is the case.  We could head to the east.  It is still a bit cold but the snow is melted enough for some travel.  The clean air will do both of us good."