She travelled on horseback. They had offered her the use of a small carriage so she could ride in some comfort, shaded from the Ionian sun, but she had chosen to ride next to Niyol. She informed the elders that he was to be appointed her personal guard. They seemed to look at each other with a knowing smile, the Princess was here to stay.
The people rejoiced as she passed them by. Stopping in villages to speak, hoping their menfolk would join her in battle. Many of them did, fathers, sons and brothers marched with her to confront the Emperor. The army was growing, and training in combat was a daily exercise on this ever moving camp. Princess Tamara even walked about the camp on an evening, mingling with the people and assuring them that this was their land to protect, not hers. She had no intentions of ever taking it away from them.
“This time we will win the battle for ourselves,” she said loudly, in one of her many speeches. “The next battle will be for our neighbors, until all the islands are returned to their rightful owners, the people of the islands!”
The crowd cheered for their Princess, they knew now that Royalty had returned to them, soon all would be well again. Royalty brought wealth and stability, they owned armies and gave guidance. Would not this Princess do all these things for them? They did not realize that they were the only army she had, their wealth would come when they invaded the Princes’ homeland, and the stability would not happen until all the islands were taken back.
However, she would provide guidance, and she was determined to find her magic skills, though this was proving more difficult. Her journey would surely reveal her magic, sooner or later.
***
“I was told she had perished!” the Emperor screamed in fury at the warlord who knelt before him. “Call yourself an army?” he continued yelling, as he turned to one warlord in particular. “You,” he pointed an accusatory finger, “you told me that you personally had seen to it, now I learn that you lied.”
“Sire, I was told she had been taken by an old man who had fallen from a cliff, into the sea. How could I prove this? I could not search the oceans for their bodies. I was informed by a reliable source, Sire.”
“I don’t like people who lie to save their own asses, General,” he turned to the other Generals, who were watching the situation unfold, with unease.
“You, and you,” he said, pointing to a couple of them. ‘Kill him.”
Neither of them responded, instead they looked unsure as to how to proceed. What were they expected to do?
“When you eventually make up your minds,” Emperor Vaclav spoke harshly as he pulled at the collar of his lying warlord. “I want this man’s life ended. Don't make me do it myself, once I get started who knows where I will stop!”
In reality, neither wanted the place by the Emperor’s side, but if they didn’t do as he commanded, they knew they’d soon be joining the unfortunate General. Between them, one forced the General to kneel and the other quickly decapitated the out-of-favor warlord, with one slash of his own sword.
“Excellent,” Vaclav clapped his hands, applauding the performance. “You,” he pointed to the one still clutching the bloodied sword, I’ll have you for now,” he instructed. “Mind that you don’t lie to me,” he added as an afterthought.
These people were so tediously annoying. All of them feared him, he could sense it. And, on top of putting up with them, he had a sister to murder.
“Who, of my warlords, is leading the armies that are attacking the Island of Citheera? What is the ship that he sails upon?”
He looked on at his assembled warlords. Each one of them looked back with fear.
“Fools, I ought to kill you all, you deserve no less, any of you!” he yelled. “See how merciful I am,” he spoke in a quieter voice. “I protect you all and look how you treat me!”
“Yes, my lord,” they all said in unison as if they puppets on a single string.
“The Jolly Jack, my Emperor,” a soldier shouted. “It confronts the island where the Princess Tamara is said to be gathering an army.”
Just the mention of her name sent the Emperor into a furious temper.
“She is no Princess, do you hear me?” he screamed at the messenger. “The next man who calls her that, will suffer my wrath as I remove his tongue.”
None of the men dared to speak. Each one kept their heads bowed and their eyes to the floor.
“I’m going, now, I can’t be wasting time on a journey. Gather the troops, all of them, and march on the rebel territories. They will pay for this day with their lives, all of them!” He shouted, waving his hands high in the air. “I will personally deal with my beloved sister myself.”
With that he was gone. He was not a Traveler, so needed no archaic words. He knew the layout of the Jolly Jack, he had personally named the ship and had travelled on it himself. All he needed to do was envision where he wanted to go, and he would be transported there in moments.