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had seen the transformation from calm, natural greenery to a scene where campfires were lit fast and big men in furs walked around slapping each other’s backs with greetings like: “Moroander abar, Lakvat!” – Hand over the mead, friend - and “Romar talam usiz!” – Try efficiency for once – and the classic: “Ukbek urtuor lah muff gerti!” – That mare looks like a sick hyena.
Alexander saw in their faces that they knew what they were up against. A giant army of close to five thousand was marching toward the capital. With the Prosperanian divisions there would be an equal number, but everyone knew that the enemy fought with spiritual weapons like mind control and the Allilandians were less used to that than their neighbors. They could fight with weapons.
King Alexander I Winsletenna was not so much troubled of the faculty of these soldiers. They were most possibly more adequate than his own soldiers. He was afraid of their emotional nature. He had only seen Mustafus cry once, but subsequently that cry had been so heart wrenching that the entire castle had cried with him. Mix that with mind control and you have a dangerous problem.
It was interesting, but Alex remembered April 11th 1422 clearly that day. He had been just hundred feet from here when Theo told him about Rumus and his accident. He had come a long way since then. Was this good? Was it good for him to mobilize all these people? He had no alternatives.
He had to. Christmas was around the corner. He had planned a family Christmas. All that was gone now. This would be a battle Christmas. Theo and Philip had made Alexander’s campfire so quick that he felt he only had taken a short stroll with Steven before it was ready. Marcus and Patrick had been raising the tent. That he on his own initiative had told Rolf to stay home and chosen to help his father made Alexander proud. He had really not expected that his son would do this.
What Alex was happy about was that he was far away from the big soldiers.
Why? Because his introduction to them would occur once they were settled. The entire court, including Belinda, had thought him crazy to wait from daybreak until their arrival and then until midday for the announcement. What they did not distinguish was that this was a superstitious ritual to Alex.
It would insure him that, whatever the outcome of the war would be, it would be for Prosperania’s benefit. He was wearing a vast pelt cape and sat by a huge campfire above the cold pasture near a cave that overlooked the scene.
There was a table with wine and food right nearby and he was getting drunk fast.
Occasionally, the men would look up and point at him. He would wave at them and they would either bow or run away. He was not afraid to communicate.
The mobilization of his own armies occurred right now under Zedrick’s command. They would arrive in a few days. The women of Iuventus Sacrum were naturally very sad that this Christmas would be celebrated without the men.
Steven was, contrary to Alex, not holding a wine cup but a map.
He presented it to Alex, who sat up and listened.
“Alexander?”
”Yes, my son!”
“I have discussed this with Patrick and we both concur in bringing forth this suggestion.”
Alex looked back at Patrick, who was holding a conversation with Theo.
“Pat gave you military advice? Is that safe?”
“Come on now, Alex. Your son is very smart. Give him credit for that.”
”Sorry” Alexander whispered. “I just have been so disappointed so many a time …”
“Look at this map” Steven said. “This is the field opposite the valley. If we cross the field to the other side we will arrive on the road that is big enough to transport us hundred and fifty miles north of the river. After a two week march we will soon arrive where the Danish troops are fighting the enemy armies. We have to stop them coming to Clurafar and they are fast.”
“Why not take the west road as planned?”
”It is way too open. This way, when we arrive we will come from the back and surprise them.”
”My God, my son is a genius. Why did I not think of this?”
“I don’t know why.”
“All I know now is that we must lead these people to victory.”
Patrick dared to walk up to his father.
“You like my idea” he smiled. “It’s good, isn’t it?”
Alexander stood up, his fur coat making the already large man seem even more imposing.
He put his hand on Patrick’s right shoulder. “My dear boy, I have underestimated you. I am sorry. Keep it up and you will become a general some day.”
For the first time in years, there was a genuine respect there.
Patrick felt something that he hadn’t felt since before Belinda was born.
He felt his father’s genuine love for him in his soul.

Saturday, December 22nd, 1425 A.D.

There were close to five thousand people here now.
For hours on end Alexander was looking at his map, receiving advice and told what to do next.
There had been no food for the king and no drink. He had been offered beverage, but all he could think of was the war. The war was all that was on the man’s mind. He was at war with himself.
Mustafus was with him and their haggard faces were showing signs of illness.
Down on the field soldiers from two countries were sharing food and water and fire, hoping to see their loved ones again one day soon, although the reality was a different issue. On horseback, a man in a black fleece hide rode up to the tent.
“Your majesty, mobilize your troops. Adnicul has sent an army from the west. We are attacked from two sides.”


Tuesday, December 25th, 1425 A.D.

“No, Belinda. I have to go.”
She was embracing him, tearing at his clothes. “I won’t let you. I know what this is now.”
Steven was running down the hall toward the west wing. “My soldiers are waiting for me.”
”Steven!” she screamed. “Stay! The curse has begun to work.”
Steven turned around. “There is no curse. Believe in my return.” He stepped up to her and embraced her. “Believe in our love.”
“I have never suspected your fidelity.”
”I never have never suspected you, love. Stay here, take care of our country, our child.”
”I am urging you not to go. This is not what it seems to be.”
”This is war” he said, running down the stairs. “Not superstition, but cold reality.”
“No, stay.” She ran after him. “We need each other. You need to be here.”
”Yes. But I have to defend my country.”
They were half way down the stairs when he took her in his arms and kissed her.
Panting, she cried. “Don’t leave. I beg of you. Don’t.”
“I shall come back.”
He rushed out the door and left Belinda crouched on the staircase, crying.
She was wondering why everyone was forgetting the haunted kingdom.


Wednesday, January 16th, 1426 A.D.
On the table was a goblet of wine and three empty bottles. The prince had not shaved for three days and he had slept only a total of two hours. The commencing battle, which had first only been confined to the channel, had now spread to the countryside. The army was at the plains of Flenia where large valleys were overflowing with vegetation. The Nocturanian Territorial Army had camped roughly two miles from where Steven's army was now.
He felt remorseful for Alexander, because a new quandary was on his hands. Another one that this time might ruin the last harmony of wits he had left. What Steven did not know was that the army that had been able to penetrate the Nocturanian borders had just crushed Fraytollah. The pirate harbor in addition to all its ship construction and falsification development was crushed.


February 1426

The Margetanian and Allilandian Army had been assigned to join in on the third of February, the Nocturanian forces seeming to be never-ending in number. The entire nation was in turmoil, people were dying everywhere, attacks being carried out all over the country.
What scared Alexander the most was that the forest gypsies seemed to be in on this as well and even joining the army. Prosperanians were dying everywhere.


Friday, the Ides of March, March 15th, 1426 A.D.

The palace that later was invaded by Nocturanian soldiers lay on the hilltop above one of the plains. It was still Prosperanian property and its location was a gem for the young couple. For once in her life since her baby had been born, Belinda had let Marcus take her in a carriage to spend some time with Steven, not being able to stand it without him. The carriage had left Iuventus early on the 7th due to a message that she received from Theo. Steven had written her that they were stuck above the plains of Wakara, haunted by Nocturanian soldiers that kept them awake all night and then did not return for weeks on end. Now they had managed to limit all the fighting to the day time and he would be happy to see Belinda here with him for a week at least. There was a castle that they could use for their mutual fulfillment. She had not suspected him to send a message. She knew his love of duty. The day afterwards, however, she left for Wakara and the trip took her a long time. His wife having arrived this morning, the Prince General had taken the entire day off from battle just to spend some valuable moments with his girl. They had spoken about home for almost the entire morning over meat and mead and bread and cake. He had cried on her shoulder and she had cried on his and then there had been laughter and song, for Belinda had brought her lute. After standing upon the balcony listening to the clinging of swords and the neighing of horses far away, they walked into the bedroom and lit a fire. After this they spent the entire day and the entire following night making love to each other.

Sunday, March 31st, 1426 A.D.

Steven knew very well that there was no turning back.
He knew Alex.
His family was in turmoil again and he needed to come home. Belinda was so far away.
Steven was crying. He could still feel his wife’s breasts pressing against his face, her lips against his shoulder, her hair in his face. All that was left was a strategy plan a shield.
Alexander had been here and briefed Steven on strategy, but now he too had left for home.
The result was discontent. Steven played the general, but did it badly almost on purpose. Why was everyone allowed to go home except the husband of the future queen?
Steven remembered how they had made love right here in the tent, lacking the castle they had found in the middle of March. Steven had been called to the battlefield and Belinda had gone with him. They made love four times in three hours and
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