STRATEGY CAMP

I am not a queen because I rule, I rule because I am THE QUEEN.

Birthed in my heart. Alive in my veins…

*************

The spark of vibrant energy that shrouded Nadezhda faded like sunlight waning as a storm approaches.

It wasn’t because of her appearance or the gloom that blanketed the space that was jostling with pure excitement a few seconds ago, or even those who had stirred it.

Two days ago, the Queen of Valcresh had sent for her. It was a sweet gesture because, despite the Queen’s crowded calendar, she had thought of having dinner with her son’s wife.

But Nadezhda, who didn’t want to come close to the Main Palace except in Zorgan’s company, had feigned ill health and told the Royal guards to return with words of her health.

‘‘A serious cold-’’ She had said. The ghostly makeup her chambermaids had experimented on her face, was a crafty testament and not to include her theatrical prowess.

‘‘Do tell the Queen how horrible I feel. I wouldn’t willingly bring my depressing state to her brilliant presence’’ She had struggled to communicate through all the chattering of her teeth. It was tough to find a fault or disbelieve.

The guards felt a sense of guilt for passing on such a call to her and they had quickly departed.

Now, her supposed unwell self stood bustling with the energy of seven warriors, and she knew the question was taking another turn in the Queen’s mind.

‘Did she ever fall ill?’

But the Queen soon knitted a smile over her lips and so did Nadezhda.

Nadezhda made a courteous bow before spewing words that were the very opposite of what she felt.

‘‘Your Grace, I feel deeply privileged to receive you in my residence. Welcome’’

Evadne scoffed at ‘my residence’, but the Queen sent a cutting look to her that had her biting her tongue.

‘‘My Dearest. I had to see you for myself. I had to come to face the sickness that was serving as a hindrance. You know, I wanted to give you a tour of the Main Palace that day-’’

Nadezhda was expecting more. A scolding, some cursed words, or a sarcastic remark would convey that the Queen had seen right through her ploy. What she did not foresee was the Queen gliding to her and enfolding her in an embrace.

She was baptized in flour and heavily streaked with mud. ‘How come- How – How could she do that to herself? To that gorgeous purple garment?’ Nadezhda thought as the embrace ended.

Everyone there stood in shock, wide-eyed after witnessing the most bewildering event of their lives. This wasn’t just any Royal.

This was Queen Maeve of one of the most commanding and powerful Kingdoms of the South; she was the only Maeve of Valcresh, and she just…

Nadezhda had her lips parted, but nothing came out. Once again, the woman before her stunned her bones, marrows and all.

Queen Maeve saw her face and she gently placed her hands on Nadezhda’s shoulders.

‘‘It’s no wonder you are Zorgan’s wife. He is as free-spirited as you are.

He is my son and you are now my daughter, let this be the last time you’re surprised this way’’

A soft pink tinged Nadezhda’s face. The Queen didn’t seem to care. She looked like she had wrestled the earth and had lost.

‘‘Now go prepare yourself; you will be lodging in the Main Palace tonight’’

Nadezhda’s face fell pale immediately.

‘‘Main Palace?’’ She questioned quickly.

‘‘Yes. There are many things you’re still in the dark regarding, and it will only be fair to you that I have you prepared,’’ The Queen replied, and Princess Evadne, who was as thunderstruck as the others, was released from her stun.

Watching Queen Maeve hug Nadezhda, she was beginning to feel that she had tagged along for the most erroneous of purposes. That feeling quickly fell apart.

Having lied and not attending to the Queen’s request urgently, Nadezhda fell short of graces, and she could not spin any more words to save herself.

A burden rested on her shoulders as the Queen eased to the side for her to go up. She was met with a sneer from Evadne and she straightened her shoulders.

‘‘Princess Evadne’’ Nadezdha acknowledged with a small nod. She didn’t wait for Evadne to work up a reply before she handed the baby chick in her hand to Camille and sashayed up the flight of stairs.

Aida and Astrid curtsied at the Queen before following right after.

*************

‘‘Commander!

Commander Zorgan!

Prince Commander Zorgan!

Prince Commander!

Commander!’’

Zorgan ignored the soldier jogging behind him as he increased his steps. He was on a mission and he would listen to no one till he was done.

He entered his tent and poured some water into a weathered metal vessel, and immediately, he began to scrub his bloodied knuckles – the same knuckles Nadezhda had kissed.

His other hand also had blood on the knuckles, but for some reason, he didn’t like the blood that had smeared this hand.

After a few seconds of intense scrubbing, he paused.

‘What was that? What- Why was I doing that? Oh no, no, no,’ He thought as he withdrew his hand from the water. He threw open the tent and came out to meet the heavily perspiring soldier.

He placed his hands akimbo as he looked out to the setting sun.

They had just returned from a methodical elimination of some armed Strays they had pursued. But they knew there were more. He knew there were more- hiding in the grounds, establishing themselves through caves and tunnels, gathering and pulling information, amassing able-bodied men and women, converting them to warriors, and subtly transforming more people for their cause.

They had not been surprised to find more citizens of the North who were beginning to make a place for themselves on Southern soil.

It was a clear sign of the current state of the North. Basic needs were now a luxury and some of their people were beginning to join the Strays. It felt better to join the wanderers than belong to something that seemed to have no future.

Usually, the first thing he would have done would have been to properly tie his hair in place but he was irked by the sight of some unknown blood on the spot her lips had been.

The soldier straightened, his arms erect by his side and eyes looking past Zorgan, unable to look at his face.

‘‘Speak’’ Zorgan commanded in a low voice that sounded angry.

‘Why do I sound like that?’

‘‘You have been called upon to join the other commanders in the strategy camp’’

It wasn’t like he wasn’t aware of the meeting; after all, he had been the one to suggest one for every passing day. He nodded and headed towards the direction of the camp.

They were very close to subduing the remaining Strays who were inhabiting this part of their land unless something bigger came up.

The Strays’ pursuit of freedom remains unchallenged by the South who judge them as neither ally nor enemy.

The trouble arises when Strays who once denied belonging, attempt to plant roots in the very domain they spurned. Then it becomes the Army’s burden to demand obedience- or deliver ruin.

Centuries ago, in the Age of Respite Peace, the South was ruled by a very very considerate King. He granted the Strays liberty to venture, to live as their name presaged- obligated to none. But freedom gave way to a motive and motive birthed a burning desire. The Strays turned covetous, casting eyes upon the fertile realm they once passed by and dared to call it their own.

The South might always be bigger than the gathering of Strays from either the South, the North, or from whatever corner of the earth.

But it is always a dangerous gamble to belittle those posing not to be against you and also wouldn’t choose to be a part of you.

Zorgan was close to the camp when he came across Prince Mael.

‘‘Brother.’’ Prince Mael called.

‘‘Brother’’ Zorgan acknowledged gently. He was on the verge of moving forward when Mael’s words held him back.

‘‘I have faith that you will get to return us home soon.

We all have reasons why we need to finish with this place as soon as possible’’

Then he smiled, placed a gentle pat on Zorgan’s shoulder, and continued on his way.

Zorgan nodded before treading into the Strategy camp, Mael’s words dancing in a loop in his head.