Chapter 2: Alea iacta est

It is said that a criminal always returns to the scene of their crime. Unlikely, perhaps, but that didn't stop Krakus Lechowicz from musing over the notion as he stood in front of his throne in the great throne room of Krakow. A short few years ago, that description was used in front of peasants and common soldiers, to make them believe in the grandeur what was the feudal service. After all, the feudal lord had to be grand, or he couldn't have protected his subjects from the terrors that lurked beyond the border. And for a great many subject, he himself was the terror who took their liege lords to task and saw them fail. They never liked him having his sword in the throne room, he remembers with a condescending smile. Yet there's no other that would fit the spot better. There was no sheathing a sword that tasted power. Not for him. Not after the war that started the avalanche.Krakus placed the sword onto the throne and walked towards the balcony. The throne room was unusually busy on this day. He couldn't quite recall the last time there was so much courtly intrigue going on. Of course, that was to be expected, as with everything that came with many a new splendor that suited this new position. An aspirant noble or courtier or dignitary or functionary, Krakus long since having lost count, came up to him to ask about some position or another. He couldn't care less. Gain some power and the world wants to spin around you, so long as it suits it. Luckily his steward was close enough to relieve him of the petitioner, doubtlessly assuring him that he would be placed on one of many waiting lists and, of course, be given all due priority. Which is to say not much, the duke mused as he leaned against the railings, which were, surprisingly enough, not sabotaged. After all, it would have been absolutely reprehensible for such acts of underhandedness to prevail over good honor and chivalry.His chancellor joined him on the balcony, emanating an air of confidence that let Krakus get his way so many times."I trust the preparations are complete?""As you requested, my lord. The commander awaits to speak with you", the chancellor pointed back to the throne room."Thank him for coming, I will be with him shortly. Any news on the front?""Still mustering the levies, sir, as are we.""Very well. Thank you, dismissed.""Sir!"With a quick turn of the heel, Krakus was left to his thoughts once more.There were times when he would look out the balcony and see the lands of his "fellow" counts. But now, all he saw was his and his alone. The Lendian Wars, as some had come to call them, had merely begun. He tasted the power that came with rule and the visceral glory of the wars that brought it. The glory that claimed many a young life under his command and emptied many a house in his lands from the men he levied to wage war. He was not without heart for the orphans and the widows of war, but they too would live to see a greater world. His world.A great man once said that it's easy to forget what sin is on the battlefield. In truth, on the battlefield, many grim realities are forgotten and lain aside. It is easy to lose oneself in the thunderous drums of thousands metal greaves impacting upon the ground in solid march. It is hard not to bask in the sun's reflection from shining helms and high held banners. It comes naturally to find courage and camaraderie in the grim, resolute faces of your fellow soldiers. And when steel meets steel on the field of war, with adrenalin coursing through your veins, the marvelous staccato of swords and shields fighting for supremacy is more than enough to overshadow the bloody graves of the sacrifices claimed by the day's warfare toll. His machine of steel never shall rest. What he was denied at birth, he would reclaim by sword.It was unfortunate that not everyone seemed to see it his way. There were those, Krakus sighed, that would oppose him, despite his best efforts. He had tried resolving the issues of his newfound domain as the Duke of Lendians peacefully, dispatching his trusty chancellor to the lords that seemed most displeased. But even his most trusted aide could do little against the uncouth barbarians who fancied themselves lords. Let it not be said that he was not a man of peace, but not even the gods themselves have patience enough to allow acts of outright defiance to become commonplace. His people looked to him now for guidance and protection and he'd be damned before he'd let his new realm descend into madness.He couldn't simply let such things slide.When all of that was dealt with, he had hope that some peace and serenity would return to his realm. Perhaps he'd visit a few cities and villages to make his subjects aware that he's looking out for, and at, them. It was always one of those things that many lords didn't do, but Krakus found it makes the villagers much less likely to rebel against him of he showed some minimal attention. It would have been peaceful and serene. And it was, of course, all too utopic. The sword he'd drawn wasn't about to let him cast it aside and forget the power he took for himself. He was to take to the field once more, but this time, the stakes were raised.There was no space to error in the coming war, the duke reminded himself as he entered the throne room again. A scarred man in chainmail seemed most pleased to see him. Hoping that emotion would be mutual, Krakus stepped towards him to discuss issues of life and death."Commander, I presume?""Th'one an' only, milord!", the strange armored man answered in heavily accented Slavic."I assume you were briefed on the situation?""'f the pay's good, our steel's yours, milord!""Then we are in agreement. I expect your troops can join the main army by tommorow?""We'll hit the muster point tonight. M'boys and me know how end fights fast.""Very well. The steward will deal with the issue of your payroll", Krakus dismissed the man, who wasn't too slow to work out the finer points of getting paid.There were those who would look down on mercenaries and their line of work, but he knew that today, he'd show everyone that Lendans are not to be taken lightly. Today, he'd show King Rostislav what he thought of his request.And tommorow, he would show the world.