Page 34 of The Kingdom of Flames

The thought did not trouble her as it once would have.

Word often came of battles, patrols, and outposts. There was always conflict among the borders with those who defied Encarmine. Beyond the martial, Celestine learned the philosophy of the people of the Red Banner. The group was everything. The family, the community, the town. The needs of the individual were weighed in terms of what they could do for the group. It fitted her. It was not so different from the urge she felt in her father’s lands to go forth and live for others.

In the deep evenings, when her body was bruised, and her hand crept to the greedy needs of her quim, she thought of him. What she wanted from him. She loved his people, his way of life. There was a deep satisfaction in the exhaustion she felt and the love of her sisters in formation together. But she needed Encarmine badly. His fiery touch, his immaculate body burned her with its absence.

Frantic hands woke her in the middle of the night. Armed sisters surrounded her.

“Come,” Dritha ordered.

Celestine wiped the sleep from her eyes. “What’s happening?”

Dritha pulled her from her cot, dragging her without explanation. Celestine stumbled to pull her leggings on, then her boots. All the women in her training group were readying themselves. Dritha led her away from the tent to the armory, throwing mail and armor at her.

“Don this,” Dritha ordered. Celestine looked at it. It was a guard’s uniform of the Red Banners.

“Dritha, what is going on?” Celestine shouted.

“Invasion. One of the Lords of Season seeks to steal Encarmine’s prize. He comes for your crest.”

Celestine stared at her, arms and armor held in her hand like morbid laundry. “That cannot be. Encarmine won my first touch. No Lord of Season would dare. This would be war!”

“It is always war in the Red Bannered Realm, Celestine.”

“Who is it?”

“We know not. It could be the Scarlet Lord, piss on his pale bones, or that thieving criminal of the Gold Banners,” Dritha said, then stepped forth and draped the mail coat over her. “We must get you to Scalehall, to his keep. Encarmine readies his banners for war. We are exposed here.”

Celestine dressed in a hurry. There were shouts outside, horses and weapons being readied.

Celestine entered the courtyard to find her entire training company already mounted and armed. Long gone were the training spears and staves. Each woman had a gnarled spear in their hand. Most wore leather and scale. Some had breastplates. Her stomach knotted in dread

“We ride for Scalehall. We must deliver our sister to Encarmine!” Dritha shouted.

Roars from her comrades came from all around. The gate opened on the east side, and two companies of the male barracks rode out in a sortie. Other men and women walked the spiked walls of Firekeep, torches lit and spears and bows readied in the night.

The flickering faces of her sisters and another company of men filled her with trepidation.

So much risk for one life…

“Come, Celestine!” some shouted.

She walked to her waiting mount.

My friends may die, for me.

Celestine was not a Red Banner, but she was of the schola now. Their courage would be hers. She mounted her horse. The flames lit the faces of her friends.

Then shouts broke out among the walls.

“Riders!”

“Infantry!”

“To arms!”

“Protect the Final Bride!”

Bows were loosed from the walls. This was no mighty keep or castle It was an outpost. A school of battle and war.

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