Chapter 80 The war council
Lucien watched as the men gathered in the tent, one by one, filling it up.
They'd successfully set up a tent in the Northern plains, after much deliberations and arguments amongst the four of them.
He let his eyes roam around the room, studying the faces of the men present.
As always, Olivia's presence gave the room a different kind of feeling.
The generals and Lords present, could not help but throw glances at her.
Lucien chuckled, clearing his throat. It was time to begin the meeting. “Are we all set?”
He said, drawing attention back to himself and stopping the chatter from the men talking.
Konstatin nodded, his slim figure walking up to the drawing board.
His gruff voice reverberated around the room, making those who had never heard him before, raise their brows in surprise.
They could not reconcile the gruff voice and the lanky body that stood before them.
His hands reached for a pin as he pinned one section of the map on the wall. “This is where the battle takes place.”
Lucien stood at a distance, a few feet away from Konstatin as he watched the unfolding with his eyes.
They'd all unanimously agreed to allow Konstatin to address the men and do all the other battle-related things even though Lucien was still in charge.
“Outside of the cities.” Konstatin continued.
“Why?” A voice sounded from within the crowd, making Konstatin glower in annoyance.
“Why is the battle taking place outside of the fields?” He asked to be sure he'd heard the right question.
There was a brief moment of silence, with no one giving him an answer.
“Because this will be to our advantage.” He answered, his eyes locking with Lucien for a split second.
“This is the highlands, the terrain, the weather, the hills.” He paused to ensure they were actively following him.
“We get to see them before they strike. No sneak attacks or bombing. The lower grounds reveal them.”
The people in the room nodded in approval. This was a good reason, and an even better strategy.
“Also, it is away from the active cities. We all know what a full-blown war can look like. We are not trying to destroy the entire Kingdom.”
He looked around to ensure they were following him. Satisfied, he continued. “Damien Hale has the numbers. A whole lot of them.”
Konstatin locked eyes with Lucien as the murmurs rose. They'd quarreled about it earlier in the day, with Lucien insisting that the men be told what exactly it was they were getting into.
Konstatin had refused vehemently and now his look to Lucien was saying “I told you so.”
He sighed in annoyance, returning his attention to the men in the room, allowing them to air their grievances to each other.
When he felt they'd had enough, he raised his hands to stop them. “I didn't realize we had a lot of women in the room with us.”
“No offense Liv,” he mouthed at her as she glowered at him.
His statement seemed to bring quietness to the room. None of the men wanted to be called a woman.
He nodded satisfactorily as he studied their faces. If there was one thing people going into battle loved to hear, it was that they could win.
“He may have the numbers, but we have the people.” He smiled as they all cheered.
They were all prideful people, him included and no one wanted to lose.
He waved his hands to bring down the noise. “I've told you the things you want to hear.” His voice was hardened, bereft of the fondness he'd used to speak earlier.
Well, in his defense, there was barely any softness in his voice.
“People are gonna die. Could be me, could be you.” From the rear, he could see Olivia facepalm herself.
He snorted, sticking out his tongue at her for a brief moment before anyone could realize what was going on.
“So, if you're not ready, I’d suggest you leave.” His tone held a note of finality.
He looked around, realizing that no one had moved an inch in their seats.
“It's not too late.” He nudged again.
“Very funny.” Someone from the back said. “Where would you have us go? Defect from your camp and go to Damien's? He'll behead us, thinking we are spies.”
voices of agreement rose on behalf of the man who had just spoken. He was a small man. Smaller than Seth even, but he was known for his wisdom.
Konstatin smiled in approval. “Defecting isn't an option then.” He said with a devious smile, making Lucien roll his eyes at him.
“Look,” he sat up. “We are not a lot. But we know one thing. We won't back down. Not without a fight.”
Lucien's heart warmed as he heard his friend address the other war generals. Konstatin could be a prick amongst other things, but one thing was constant, he was a loyal friend.
He raised his hands to quieten the men. “I have something to say, apologies to the commander.” He nodded to Konstatin.
The room became silent, each man wondering what the formidable Lucien Blackthorn wanted to add.
“It is to my understanding that we are all pumped for battle.”
Resounding cries filled the room, with some of the men raising their swords in jubilation.
“I am as excited as you are.” He said with a smile. “Even more excited, because last I checked, we're all fighting an Usurper to my throne.”
His voice was solemn. “Battle plans have been made. But they are what they are. Plans. Just plans.” He paused to ensure that the men were following him.
“Things can go south.” He resumed. “The long age battle is supposed to happen here, in the Northern plains. But it could be moved.”
He stopped, clenching his palms. “Just in case,” he looked like he was choosing the next words carefully. “Just in case the battle holds in Crestwood, I'll need you all to remember that there is a woman and a child in the East Wing of the palace.”
The men nodded solemnly, the weight of his words dawning on them.
Lucien's words were clear. If they ever got into battle with Damien and Isabella and Elias were in the line of fire, they had to withdraw or surrender.
He would rather lose the throne than lose them.
He motioned for Konstatin to carry on as he stepped out of the room, walking into the forest with no clear destination in mind.
It was almost the hour and soon, they would go into full-blown war where lives would be lost.
Lucien sighed as his mind drifted off to Isabella and Elias. Without one shadow of doubt, he'd meant what he said earlier.
Not a single strand of hair on their head must be touched.
A soft satisfying smile escaped his lips as he imagined Isabella and Elias with Isabella reading stories to Elias.
Stories that he claimed not to like, but would give anything to hear over and over again.
“Aren't you going to show yourself?” He muttered.
A shadow stepped out from the darkness. “How long have you known I was following you?”
Lucien chuckled. “From the moment I stepped out of the room.” He spun, coming face to face with Olivia.
“Why are you here, Liv?”
Olivia sighed. “Nothing. Just wanted to confirm that you're not about to do something dangerous.”
Lucien grimaced.
“Look, Lucien.” Olivia stepped forward. “I don't think I have to apologize.”
Lucien narrowed his eyes, genuinely confused. “Apologise? For…” he stopped as the events of the previous time came into his head.
“It's okay,” he said with a bitter smile. “I'm over it.”
“Olivia nodded,” wringing her hands together. “I know you're over it, but I still need to do it.”
Lucien nodded, sighing.
“It really was out of place. I shouldn't have done that. I'm sorry.” Her head was bowed in remorse.
Lucien waved his hand. “Apology accepted. Happy now?” He teased.
Olivia returned his tease with a smile. “Satisfied is the word.” She said smugly.
Lucien couldn't believe his ears. A heavy sigh escaped his lips before he could help it.
“Worried about the war?” Olivia spoke after some seconds of silence.
Lucien shook his head. “Not the war itself. The aftermath.”
Olivia nodded in understanding, urging him to continue.
“I know you think I am weak…”
“I already apologized.” She whined.
Lucien chuckled. “Fine. What I'm trying to say is, lives will be lost, Liv. Am I prepared for that?”
Olivia shrugged. “You have two choices. Leave the throne for Damien Hale.” She spat Damien’s name with disgust.
“Second choice?” Lucien urged.
“Fight for it.” She curled her lips. “Either way, His one intention is to get Isabella away from you.”
“You get to choose how.”
“I get to choose how,” he repeated, a broad smile forming on his face. “Thank you.” He muttered.