Chapter XXXVI- Dead Swamp, Buzzing

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Sir Andrew Tathagar removes his helmet and hands it to his squire, Radha Derro. Taking the helm, she bows and falls in step with him. He ignores her subtle limp. The young woman had been unseated by a Stafford pikeman and spilled onto the muddy banks of The Tolkien. Andrew had sent her back to Dead Swamp to recuperate despite her protests and the complaints by her father Sir Derro. The latter is a stern man obsessed with the pursuit of glory. His daughter has a habit of putting his ideals ahead of her own wellbeing.

Andrew had said as much to the man's face, gaining him an angry rebuttal. Derro threatened to quit the field of battle, taking his allies with him. Losing those soldiers from northern Dead Swamp would have been devastating. If not for Andrew officially calling his Lord Father's Swords, the young knight would have been unable to keep his forces together. Too many egos, too much politics. The realization has left his stomach soured and mealtimes have become a choir.

"How goes it on the battlefront, sir?" Radha asks as they walk.

They pass rows of the black and red Tathagar banners. Each belonged to one of the previous Lords of Dead Swamp. No pictures of the nobles of House Tathagar adorn their walls and none ever will until a Tathagar again sits the throne of High Mountain. It is a vow made by the first Tathagar to enter the old and crooked castle Andrew has always called home. As each banner passes overhead, Andrew feels the pain in his stomach grow just a bit more.

"We still hold them at a stalemate," he replies as they reach the foot of the stairway leading up to his Lord Father's quarters. "I can tell by that grin that this pleases you."

"Shouldn't it, sir?"

"A stalemate isn't winning..." He sighs and shakes his head. Leaning against the frame of the stair archway, he rotates his shoulder.

"Sir, despite their superior numbers we have them struggling to cross the river. That's... it means something, sir."

"Not as much as you seem to think. The majority of their soldiers are sellswords with no real training and no real loyalty. We hold them now, but what happens when Stafford commits his Swords to this fight?"

"The Blackpowder Knight and Sir Blackwater have both been spotted at multiple engagements."

"Blackwater owns most of those mercenary companies. He wasn't there to fight, he was keeping an eye on his investments." Andrew sees the young faces of the Blackwater Company soldiers he's cut down in the recent campaign. He shakes the images away. "And Lady Nuamah is merely testing her dwarven contraptions."

"... I still think we're doing pretty good."

"The advantages of youth."

Radha rolls her eyes. Andrew finds he uses the term quite often when dealing with his two young squires. He left Morgan to see to the treatment of the horses, in part because the boy needed the practice but also because Andrew wanted a moment to talk to Radha without prying ears. The girl tends to be more guarded with her words when her counterpart is around. Andrew has a few personal questions.

"Sir Andrew, may I ask you something?" she asks while he's still mulling over what to say.

"Of course"

"Lady Nuamah, The Black Powder Knight. Is it true she is related to Sir Rondom? I mean, I know they hold the same family name, but some say her branch of the family traces its roots back to High Mountain from before the divide."

Andrew shakes his head. Radha isn't the first to ask such things.

"While there are Nuamah's in High Mountain who can trace their family line back to a time when they were a part of Sir Rondom's House, The Blackpowder Knight is not descended from them. She is Rondom's older cousin."

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