Buried in Satin

**"Buried in Satin"**is the tenth episode of *War* and the 59th episode overall.

The episode was published on February 28, 2021.

In the episode, as Cartonia picks up the pieces after the ravages of the War Plague, the Summer Sun focuses on an invasion of Ursus to turn the tide of the war.

## Appendix

Episode Title Card**A:** Map of the War, 715**B:** Map of Ursus, 715**C:** Timeline of the War, 708-713**D:** Ursine Family Tree, 715**E:** Willonian Family Tree, 715**F:** Equestrian Family Tree, 715**G:** Tardisham Tower, Carnarvon, Ursus
## The Episode

*—Diary of Lana Loudoun—*

*-December 2, 714-*

*No new cases of the War Plague were reported in Porcinia yesterday. That’s six days in a row! While this is fantastic news for the health of our nation, it unfortunately means the return to the trenches will be proceeding in earnest. The Summer Sun is recovering far more quickly, as the Cervidian vaccine is now readily available in both Cervidium and Vulpus. It is only a matter of time before it reaches Scuridiae and Psittancyna.*

*The Granite Bloc’s taskforce is attempting to play catchup and achieve our own vaccine, or broker a deal with the Summer Sun for the formula. We do have the treatments recommended earlier last month, which provides me with some comfort.*

*How tragic that the eradication of this plague is the catalyst for a return to warfare…*

—The Trenches, Southern Willie—

—Kingdom of the Mice—

-December 25, 714-

Crown Prince Mickey Mus of Willie, who went by Mitch, awoke on Christmas Day to one of his captains pounding on the door. He rolled his eyes behind his eyelids. He missed the Christmases spent in tranquility with his family at Musenzollern Castle. But once again he was without his wife, his father the King, his siblings, and his children, deep underground in a subterranean trench bunker.

Mitch's wife, Marley, was pregnant and expected to give birth in the next month. Mitch would receive furlough to spend time with her and the newborn mouse daughter once she was born. This would be their fifth child.

The knocking grew louder. Mitch rolled out of his cot and stumbled to the door.

“Happy Christmas,” he mumbled at the captain.

“Sir,” the captain dove right into the news, “there’s a defector at the frontline. A deer from Cervidium, shot multiple times trying to cross into our trenches.”

Mitch knew there must be something more, as this was hardly reason to wake the garrison’s leader.

“And?”

“And he carries the vaccine.”

Mitch's eyes widened.

“The…War Plague vaccine?”

“Yes, sir. He sustained gunfire from both sides of the trenches.”

Mitch jumped into his shoes, snatched his jacket and face mask, and raced from the bunker to the frontlines. The defector was a grievously injured deer, lying in a pool of his own blood in the trench. Ten soldiers were aiming their guns at him as a precaution. A doctor in the traditional red-striped uniform was apparently on standby, not willing to treat the enemy unless given the order. The deer was clutching a vial in his hoof over his heart. He had a medical patch over his shoulder, which meant he was a medic as well.

“Treat him,” Mitch ordered the Willonian doctor. He approached the deer, who was wheezing. Blood was still pouring out of his leg, chest, and neck. He had been shot. Multiple times.

“I’m Commander Mitch Mus. I’ve been told you bring the vaccine?”

The deer regarded Mitch with skepticism, but eventually uncurled his hoof and let the vial tumble across his torso. Mitch squatted and grabbed it. The interior contents were clear. It could have been water.

“Why do you bring this to us?”

The deer coughed. Blood sputtered to his lips.

“What’s right,” he managed. “Life is life.”

Mitch handed the vial to his captain.

“Take this at once to the capital. It may be our salvation.”

The deer grabbed Mitch's collar as the captain took off running.

“Evil,” he rasped, “in Lyme.”

Mitch stared.

“What do you mean?”

The deer barked up more blood, hitting Mitch's face mask. He reeled backward, knocking over a fellow soldier. The deer spasmed, then moved no more.

—Tardisham Tower, Carnarvon, Ursus—

—Kingdom of the Bears—

-January 25, 715-

A marble sarcophagus in the Chapel of Chains, wreathed in white posies, marked the burial site of Queen Grace of Ursus. The wife of reigning King Archibald and mother of Theodora Rose, the heir apparent to the Ursine throne. She lived up to her name as a gracious and benevolent Queen, but was lost to the plague last August.

Archibald and 15-year-old Theodora visited the grave together once a week. Archibald had expected the visits to stop eventually, but Theodora was always eager to go. In this way, they kept Grace’s legacy alive in memory.

The royal family of Ursus was the smallest of all eighteen Kingdoms. Bears rarely gave birth more than once in an average lifetime. Archibald had only one child, zero siblings, and no cousins. The last time a reigning monarch had more than one children was Rowena V in 503. Because of the volatility of the war and the sudden death of Grace, the people of Ursus were rightfully concerned for their King and Princess. If Theodora and Archibald were to both die, the throne of Ursus would be open for anyone to grab.

Ursus was founded at the time of the Harmony Crown as a federated conglomeration of former states. Polar bears, black bears, brown bears, panda bears, and several other subspecies united under one banner. The brown bears won a civil war, giving them the Ursine throne. Every major bear subspecies had worn the crown at some point, but Archibald and his family were brown bears. If the Rose family was extinguished, it was expected that one of the other subspecies would rise to the top.

To prevent the elimination of the royal line, Archibald was expected to remarry and produce a second heir. The King was reluctant to do so, as it felt wrong to marry another so soon after his wife’s passing. His ministers put together a list of eligible bachelorettes, including some from the other subspecies. Archibald was intentionally delaying choosing one.

“Papa?” Theodora asked, her paw resting on her mother’s memorial. “Did children in the Summer Sun lose their mothers too?”

She meant specifically children of the monarchs.

“They did not,” Archibald replied with a sigh. The Vixen Queen, Stag, Macaw, and Chequer had all been spared the heartbreak. The plague impacted the Granite Bloc far worse. It was rumored the Summer Sun ruthlessly suppressed the virus’s spread, killing any of the infected. Archibald was still of the belief that the virus originated—naturally or artificially—in Psittancyna. While the virus was known as the War Plague in the Granite Bloc, the Summer Sun maliciously named it the Ursine Virus since it was first discovered in their trenches.

And now, because the Summer Sun discovered the vaccine first, they were able to return to the trenches sooner. The Granite Bloc was only a few weeks behind. A doctor had defected from Cervidium into Willie on Christmas Day. He carried with him the vaccine’s formula, and it was tested and mass-produced. Only yesterday, Archibald and Theodora received the vaccine themselves.

The church bells rang, signaling the coming of the new hour.

“Time to go,” the King said. Theodora said a quiet goodbye to Grace’s grave, and followed her father out of the Chapel of Chains, so named for its binding of the dead to their afterlives.

They crossed the bailey to the Tower, the main residence of the royal family. Tardisham Tower was one of the most fortified royal residences in Cartonia. Its location at the center of the nation proved beneficial in the war, as it would take any invading force just as long to reach the city gates. It was why the Simenese Chancellors had tried to send Queen Ana III and her father to Ursus for safekeeping, before the Vixen Queen sank her ship and exterminated the Simenese royal family.

Inside Tardisham Tower, Archibald and Theodora entered the war chamber. The visiting dignitaries were gathering after having lunch. Despite the vaccine’s success and the rapid immunization of the public, everyone was still social distancing and wearing masks. It would take Cartonia a long time to recover from the plague.

Around the chamber, the flags of Ursus, Porcinia, Phantine, and Equine Isle were hung. Carnarvon was hosting a miniature summit of the Granite Bloc’s leaders, specifically those focusing on the Psittancynesian front. King Bacon IV of Porcinia, Babar Waarheid of Phantine, and King Horatio V of Equine Isle had all traveled for the meeting. Bacon brought his rambunctious son, Bake Hamleigh, with him. Archibald didn’t think highly of him. Bake was often vulgar and crude, and quick to crack a joke when things were serious. Theodora disliked him too. Bake was now a high-ranking officer of the Porcinian army, which had quieted him but not necessarily eliminated his sense of humor.

Theodora walked away from her father to fix herself lunch from the buffet. Horatio V approached Archibald in her absence. The King of Equine Isle was Cartonia’s current longest-serving monarch, having celebrated his sixtieth year on the throne in 712. He was here with his eldest daughter and heir apparent, Heredera Navarra Caligari.

“How is she doing?” Horatio asked with genuine concern with a nod toward Theodora.

“She’s coping,” Archibald admitted. “The passage of time has eased the suffering, I think.”

“Losing a mother is never easy,” Horatio posited, though Archibald was quick to remember that Bentley Connelly reportedly didn’t care at all when his own mother passed. When the news of Queen Libby’s involvement in the Victoria Vixen assassination came to light, Archibald was mortified. Her banishment from court seemed justified.

“Alas,” Horatio uttered, “losing a child is much worse.”

Archibald’s eyebrows fell over his eyes and he bowed his head in his counterpart’s direction. He had already conveyed to Horatio his condolences for the loss of his daughter, grandchildren, and numerous other family members. Equine Isle and Eusuchia were both hit hard by the War Plague.

“I cannot even fathom it.”

Horatio sniffed, suppressing his emotions.

“Too many children of Cartonia have been wrested from this earth in this abhorrent decade. I wish it over, but in order to achieve peace we must give in to carnage. It’s a paradox.”

Archibald groaned in agreement. Seeing the time on the large clock between the flags, he brought the other monarchs to his attention. They sat around a round table to plot their next move against Psittancyna.

“The parrots have nearly replenished all of their trenches,” Babar Waarheid of Phantine described, using diagrams to illustrate his strategy. “Our scouts tell us that all trenches are equally stocked. As of yet, there has been no breach of no-man’s-land territories, and no skirmishes.”

“The trench here,” King Bacon pointed on a map to the stretch of land between the Tributary and the Apex Sea, “is our best bet to hedge an invasion. If we cross there, and overcome them, we have a strong chance of marching directly to the capital. The parrots know that and will ensure their trenches are well-guarded.”

“A naval invasion is out of the question, correct?” Horatio asked.

“Absolutely,” Archibald answered. “The Apex Sea is prone to freezing, especially now in the winter.”

Archibald nodded at Theodora, and she made a note in her book. The weather was unpredictable; that was a good lesson to know in warfare.

“Then where should we cross?” Waarheid asked rhetorically. “I say that we call their bluff and invade west of the Tributary, hugging the sea in case we need to make an emergency evacuation. When we have reached the base of Mount Altum, and the Canopy is in grasp, we may negotiate with the Macaw on terms of surrender.”

“I agree with the Babar,” Heredera Navarra of Equine Isle chimed in. “The Equestrian fleet will be dispatched west of Psittancyna to swoop in if necessary.”

“The trench lines need to be moved north regardless of an invasion,” Bacon added. “We should coordinate our strikes.”

“We are grateful,” Bacon mused, “that trenches have not been dug in any of our countries.”

Archibald was extremely grateful for that. While Leprolia, Willie, Simeone, and Mallardia were sliced with friendly and fearsome trenches, the northern nations were fortunate to have had their battles fought entirely within Psittancynesian borders. It was an advantage the Granite Bloc intended to keep. If Psittancyna fell, all northern forces would be diverted to Scuridiae, then to Cervidium, and lastly to Vulpus.

The gathered attendees hammered out more of the details, including the date on which they planned to launch their attack. Archibald made a mental note that Bake Hamleigh had not spoken at all, instead twiddling his thumbs idly at the table and ignoring most of what was said. Poor Bacon, beset with personal strife in addition to political.

“Well,” Navarra Caligari said when everyone was done, “I think this was most productive.”

“As do I,” Horatio agreed, raising his beverage in his daughter’s direction. “I thank you all for your input.”

Archibald stood and proposed a toast.

“To the Granite Bloc!”

“The Granite Bloc!” the room sang. After everyone drank, Bake began laughing. His father, King Bacon, glowered at him.

“What are you sniggering at?”

“The Macaw,” Bake smirked. “Can you imagine his face when he realizes he’s…toast?”

—The Canopy, Mount Altum, Psittancyna—

—Macawdom of the Parrots—

-January 31, 715-

At the summit of Mount Altum, embedded into the rocky mountaintop, was the magnificent home of the Psittancynesian Macaw and the seat of his government. It was known as the Canopy as it towered over the treetop canopies of the lush forests.

Parrots, in the savage days before the Harmony Crown were once flighted birds that lived in treetops. Their initial domain was in modern-day Mallardia, but the ducks of old had forced them north. In the Great Cartonian War that ended with the formation of the Harmony Crown, the cats had biologically mutated the parrot species and removed their ability to fly. In the centuries since, the species adapted to living in the perpetually cold climate of northern Cartonia without the ability to fly. The forests remained untouched, as deforestation was a high crime.

Macaw Arini, the reigning ruler of Psittancyna, was proud of his homeland and species. Their culture was unique and individual, above that of the common Cartonian identity. There were no Kings or Queens here, only the Macaw. While the Macawdom was known across Cartonia as Psittancyna, the Macaw and his citizens knew it by its native Psittanine name—the Psittacorum. They had their own language, their own customs, traditions, and rituals.

And soon, they would have much more. The war was to be the springboard of Psittancynesian fortunes. As of now, all the parrots had fought on their own soil. The War Plague had temporarily stalled their advance south, but now was the time to strike. They had the advantage of vaccinating their citizens first. The troops of Ursus, Porcinia, Phantine, and Equine Isle were not yet finished replenishing their army stores.

The Macaw was not an imbecile. He understood perfectly that once the Granite Bloc recovered, they would invade the Psittacorum with all its might, possibly in the southwestern region near the Tributary. Most of the troops would therefore originate in Ursus. The Granite Bloc would expect heavy resistance on the parrots’ side. And that was true; the Macaw intended to stack his trenches to prevent the invasion.

However, he was not keen on playing a purely defensive game.

“Magnificence,” one of the Macaw’s servants addressed with a bow, “the Chequer of Scuridiae is available via video connection.”

“Ah,” the Macaw grinned. “Excellent.”

He outstretched his wings—as was typical of the monarch when moving about the Canopy—and walked across the hall to the war chamber. An enormous monitor was currently displaying the Chequer of Scuridiae’s bearded face. The chipmunk was tapping a pencil against his buckteeth.

“Your Grace,” the Macaw greeted, lowering his wings. The servants all left the room, leaving the two alone. The Chequer nodded his head.

“*Psalo, psou Magnivicanzso*,” the Chequer replied in native Psittanine. “Is all still well with you and your family?”

“Very much so. Thank you. And yours?”

“Intact,” the Chequer said with a wink. To the great fortune of the Summer Sun, none of their royals had died in the plague.

“The Granite Bloc is planning their invasion of the Psittacorum,” the Macaw informed. “We must act quickly. Where are your ships?”

“Anchored in the Unity Sea, pointed at Eusuchia as you requested.”

The Macaw smiled.

“Good, just where we went them. Shall we aim for a landfall date of February 2?”

The Chequer lifted an eyebrow.

“I think that can be arranged. What of your own ships?”

“Fret not, *psmon Chequer*. My flee shall do its part as the distraction in the Apex Sea. The bears will not see you coming, or will be too preoccupied to respond fast enough to impede your landing.”

Both monarchs gazed at each other, contented with their strategy.

“Until the second of February, then,” said the Chequer.

—The Cape of Alyaska, Ursus—

—Kingdom of the Bears—

-February 2, 715-

Lieutenant Commander Eamon Rivers with the Ursine Coast Guard was stationed on the Cape of Alyaska, the westernmost point of the country. It extended into the Unity Sea and for years had been the Lieutenant Commander’s home. The Cape was the main habitat for fellow grey bears, a rare subset of black bears.

As a Lieutenant Commander of the Coast Guard, Eamon was privy to more than his fair share of occurrences in the war. He knew that while his unit was patrolling the Cape, the army of Ursus was marching north into Psittancyna.

Eamon Rivers had been in the Coast Guard for several years before the outbreak of war on the continent. The mission of the Guard had drastically evolved to protecting Ursus’s borders from Cartonian invaders. In his youthful days, the Guard was mostly tasked with preventing whales, sharks, and octopuses from encroaching on aquatic food supplies. Those creatures still existed, but dealing with a large whale was nothing compared to the day when *The Pearl of Simeone* was deliberately sunk in 710 with Simenese Queen Ana III on board.

That day still haunted Eamon. He was the one to report the news to King Archibald. Neither the body of Queen Ana nor her father, Tomasz Czerny, were ever found. But they assuredly drowned. Simeone remained a republic, having been converted from a monarchy by one of their Chancellors, Ham Mercury.

On this particularly foggy morning, Eamon was on radar duty. In this capacity, he scanned the coastlines for enemy intrusions. Or whales. There was a fleet of Scuridian ships off to the west, aimed at Eusuchia. They had been moored there for several days. Eusuchia had already been informed, and was monitoring them too. The Summer Sun would have to capture and control Eusuchia and Equine Isle for the war to end in their favor. So far, the nations had escaped any butchery on their own soil.

Eamon watched as, at 10:00 sharp, the ships turned and began to sail toward Ursus. The fog made it impossible to use a telescope and confirm, but after a few minutes it became clear that the radar was not mistaken. The chipmunks were coming this way!

It was a trap. Psittancyna lured the Granite Bloc north so the Scuridians could attack in the south.

Eamon pulled the beacon lever, activating the virtual signal to the capital. Once again, Captain Eamon Rivers would deliver difficult news to the King of Ursus.

—Tardisham Tower, Carnarvon, Ursus—

Archibald was gobsmacked. The Summer Sun had outmaneuvered them. At the eleventh hour, the King had to redirect the majority of his army south to the Cape of Alyaska to head off the invasion. Reinforcements from Porcinia and Canis were requested to continue on their push into Psittancyna. But by now, their plan was realized and foiled. The parrots knew of their plans to cross west of the Tributary.

Inaction was not an option. Archibald needed to handle this sudden change of events personally. He and the Princess Theodora hastily packed to travel to the Cape of Alyaska with the troops.

—Cape of Alyaska, Ursus—

-February 9, 715-

Because the Ursine navy was in the Apex Sea, it took several days for ships to reach the Unity Sea and engage the Scuridians in naval battle. Eusuchia deployed some of their ships to help as well. As was common with nearly every wartime engagement, there were heavy losses on both sides, and no clear victor.

Seven Scuridian warships landed at Sitka Beach, the flattest one in the area. Here, they hastily dug a trench and were holding out against Ursine defenders. Archibald’s naval forces were tasked with preventing more ships from landing and replenishing those in the trench.

The King, Princess Theodora, and the Ursine army were in their own trench further inland from Sitka Beach. Per usual, the space between them was designated no-man’s-land and already hit with bombs and artillery shells.

How quickly the sound of explosions became normal.

For her part, Theodora was acting bravely. It was her first time visiting any trench, and certainly her first time at any battle. Archibald knew it was imperative to expose her to the war as early as possible to help groom her for the throne. He wanted her to remember images of evil forces invading her country to solidify national pride and identity as they beat them back.

It was still Archibald’s hope that a quick and decisive victory could be achieved here so the bears could return to their plans for Psittancyna. But as the days wore on, it became apparent that his hope was unlikely to be realized.

—The Pink Palace, Sowtown, Porcinia—

—Kingdom of the Pigs—

-Six Days Later-

“You’re certain?” King Bacon IV asked, sinking into his chair.

“Yeah, dad,” Bake Hamleigh said on the other end of the phone. He was in Psittancyna, overseeing the Granite Bloc’s advance. “There’s no way we can overcome their trenches. We’ll have to think of something else, or we’ll lose a load of soldiers.”

Bacon groaned.

“I’ll call the other nations. Halt for now, and focus on strengthening your trenches.”

“Aye aye.”

Bake’s casual sign-off did not lighten Bacon’s mood. Bacon quickly dialed a conference call between King Archibald, Babar Waarheid, and King Horatio V.

—Sitka Beach, Southwestern Ursus—

—Kingdom of the Bears—

-Eight Days Later-

Princess Theodora was jolted awake by a siren. Papa was already up, frantically shoving his boots on.

“Theodora!” he cried. “Bombs are coming! We have to move!”

“Bombs?” she repeated dumbly. Her grogginess drained away. Seconds later, something explode nearby. Their barrack was rocked. An officer was speedily saying things to Papa, and Theodora was able to catch some of the phrases as they flew out of his mouth.

“…landed two hours ago…too many…bombing apparatus…”

Theodora dressed with celerity and ran with Papa into the trenches. The sky above them was orange with fire and booming blasts.

“FIRE!”

A catapult launched a fireball at the enemy trenches, and Theodora could hear their distant screams.

“AGAIN!”

The second catapult, rapidly constructed only yesterday, fired.

“This way!” Papa yelled, pointing in the direction of the transport dock. They were only a few miles from the nearest train station.

“Back to Carnarvon?”

“Yes,” Papa replied. “Tardisham is safest for you.”

Theodora thought she’d be terrified at the front, but she was surprised by her own courage. In Tardisham Tower, she had every luxury. Here, there were none, and she was able to adapt with ease.

“MAJESTY!”

Someone lunged at Papa and knocked him over. Theodora stumbled backward and caught herself against the wall of the trench. Down the line, a grenade shot into the ground, then blew up. The blast would have killed them both had the soldier not acted. Theodora wished she had grabbed her helmet. Papa seized her paw.

“Oh, my darling. Run!”

The way they were going was blocked, and Theodora traced the map of the trench in her mind.

“This way, Papa!”

She led her father to the other tunnel.

“FIRE!”

The bears launched their next attack on the chipmunks. The large sphere of flames soaring overhead provided more than enough light in the darkness for Theodora to reach the tunnel.

Only to find it blocked.

The entourage all stopped together. Theodora found the nearest captain.

“We need to reach the transport dock! How do we go?”

The captain was panting, and bleeding. Theodora noticed the grisly gash in his arm.

“Your Highness,” he gasped, “all those tunnels are bombed out now. We never had that many to begin with.”

Papa’s eyes widened.

“We have to go over the top.”

“Sir!” one of his officers and guards shouted. “That is impossible!”

“If we stay here, we’re open targets. The chipmunks have been constructing a bombing apparatus without our knowledge. That will enable them to continue their bombardment.”

“Not unless we destroy it first…”

Another bomb blasted the trenches, sending dirt and debris toward the royal party. Before anyone could react, a grenade landed between them.

Theodora dove out of the way, and heard its detonation. When the smoke cleared, she saw Papa scrambling up the trench wall with his guards. Others were looking for her, but Theodora wasted no time. She followed Papa’s example and propelled herself up the edge of the trench and into no-man’s-land.

Her internal compass told her east was directly ahead, and that if she kept running she’d reach the nearest town and its train station. She couldn’t see anything in the dark, and did not have a light. Papa was somewhere, but she did not have time to waste.

She sprinted. As she tore across the vast sand field, she said a silent prayer for Papa. She was not ready to be Queen. He must live.

A gunshot. Theodora ducked, but tripped, and rolled into the sand. Much of it got into her mouth, and she began to hack it up. Getting on all fours, she vomited a mouthful of sand onto the ground.

“FREEZE!”

Theodora lifted her paws over her head.

“It’s just me!”

But when she stood and turned, she saw two chipmunks holding a flashlight. As her eyes adjusted to the night, she realized that she had not run east at all, but southwest. Directly toward the enemy trenches.

“Identify yourself!”

Theodora hesitated, then lied.

“Grace White. Officer Grace White.”

Her mother’s maiden name tumbled from her mouth, and she hoped it would save her.

“Where’s the King?”

Theodora shrugged.

“He and the Princess left yesterday morning for Tardisham Tower. I’m afraid you’ve missed them.”

One of the chipmunks scowled.

“Damn it. We’re bombing them for nothing.”

“Shut up. She could be lying.”

“Oh.”

Theodora prayed all the chipmunks in the trench were as dumb as the first one.

“Come here,” the smarter one ordered. He was pointing a gun at her, so Theodora readily complied. He gripped her arm tightly and shoved her toward the trench’s entrance. They had cut off most of their lights for stealth, but now a flashlight was guiding their way.

She knew she was a prisoner of war now. They were rare, as hardly anyone got close enough to grab somebody. And if one did, everyone was of the opinion that a dead soldier was safer than a prisoner soldier. Theodora hoped that she would be held, and not killed.

To her surprise, she was brought to a parrot. The trench was full of chipmunks, but the commander was actually a parrot. He was a vibrant blue, with a red and green striped head. Yes, the parrots were her enemy, but they were objectively beautiful.

“Princess,” he gasped. Her heart plummeted. The two chipmunks that brought her began to stutter pathetically.

“This is…uh…”

“Grace…”

“Princess Officer…”

“Get out,” the parrot demanded. The chipmunks shut the door of the barrack behind them, leaving her alone with the parrot.

“Princess Theodora,” he muttered with a sinister smile. “What a treasure we’ve dug up.”

She swallowed. There was not much use in denying her identity. It might just save her.

“I demand to be returned to my father,” she said boldly. “I am not—“

“Oh, we’ll return you,” the parrot interrupted. “You’re a gem, indeed. Ah, I forgot to introduce myself. Commander Rico, at your service.”

“Charmed,” Theodora murmured.

“Hmm. Well. For now, Princess, you’ll be detained in this room. It’s the only one that has a door that locks. You’re far more use to us alive than dead. Let’s see what price we can fetch for your head.”

—Tardisham Tower, Carnarvon, Ursus—

-The Next Morning-

Princess Theodora was being ransomed for ten million marks. It was an astronomical sum, a monstrous ask, but Archibald did not even hesitate to say yes. He would pay for it entirely out of his own pocket. To do so, he’d have to sell two of the royal estates.

He was distraught to have lost Theodora on that night. How did they manage to become separated? What drove her toward the Scuridian trench line?

But of course, it was chaos that night. He should never have brought her so close to the action. He had been too confident that they’d be alright, and emerge unscathed.

Commander Rico, the parrot in charge of the enemy trench, assured the King that Theodora was unharmed, and would be released without incident once the ransom was received. The King had already wired the money to the Macaw, and was awaiting confirmation.

Shortly before noon, the Macaw sent a telegram with one word.

“Received.”

—Sitka Beach, Ursus—

-Two Days Later-

Commander Rico informed Theodora that her release was scheduled to occur today, and that she would be turned over to her father himself at three in the afternoon on this very beach. The battle would continue once she was safely out of no-man’s-land. Apparently if Papa or the army attempted any sort of attack, she’d be promptly killed.

“It’s time,” Rico hollered in her direction. She was handcuffed and shoved out of the trench. The wind was intense, and sand swirled around them. A chipmunk stuck a gun in her back, threatening her not to run. She knew her sense of direction was not in the best repute, and did not dare.

They headed to a rocky spot halfway between the chipmunk and bear trenches. And waited.

No bear was here yet, but perhaps the chipmunks had come early. The sun was beating down on them, and Theodora was sweating. She moved her shoulders to unstick the shirt from her back, and took a few steps forward to get comfortable.

Suddenly, a loud noise rang out and blinding pain bled through her body. She could hardly breathe, and her legs gave out. Collapsing to the sand, she saw blood spurting from her stomach.

She had been shot.

“*Psboujon!* IDIOT! What did you do!”

“It was an accident! I thought she was running!”

“*Running?*”

“It was an accident! I’m sorry!”

“Give me that.”

Commander Rico shot the chipmunk point-blank. Theodora gasped for breath, but air was finite. And soon, Princess Theodora ran out.

—

At 3:00, Archibald and a few officers headed down to an outcropping on Sitka Beach, where he was to receive his daughter back. Though the ransom was a great humiliation and personal financial blow, he was eager to have Theodora back in his arms. He led his officers, his cape billowing behind him in the strong beach wind.

Up ahead, there wasn’t anyone standing near the rocks, but two figures were lying down in the sand. It was strange, but maybe they had grown tired of waiting?

As he got closer, a sense of dread entered his conscience. He began to run, and did not stop until he reached her body. Blood everywhere, her face pale, the gun used to end her life lying in the hand of the ransomer.

Archibald buckled in anguish.

—Tardisham Tower, Carnarvon, Ursus—

—February 28, 715—

-Two Days Later-

Theodora was buried in satin, beside her mother. Her funeral was attended by nearly every monarch of the Granite Bloc. The crowd far exceeded the capacity of the Chapel, but Archibald barely noticed. He could not unsee her dead body, murdered in cold blood and dumped unceremoniously on Sitka Beach.

The Macaw spun some story of a deranged Scuridian soldier tasked with facilitating the exchange shooting her and them himself, but Archibald didn’t believe anything the Summer Sun said. He demanded the ransom back, but the Macaw was silent.

He paid millions of marks for his daughter to be slaughtered.

The entire country was in mourning, and would remain so for a while. Black attire was omnipresent in the bailey outside the Chapel of Chains, where Archibald was now. He had just laid a bed of roses around Theodora’s marble coffin.

Archibald inclined his head. Something occurred to him as he glimpsed the neighboring sarcophagus of his dead wife. He snapped at one of his advisors.

“Cancel all the marriage negotiations. I will not take another wife. My heart cannot handle any more heartbreak.”

The advisor scribbled a few notes.

“What about the succession…?”

“Parliament may decide on who will be my successor. I will not endorse anybody.”

The advisor ran off.

“Archie?”

It was Bentley Connelly, approaching while holding his own bouquet of flowers to be placed over Theodora’s grave.

“Benny. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course. Listen, I don’t want you to have to worry about the war for a while, okay? Waarheid and Bacon are going to help you oversee the effort on Sitka Beach.”

The mentioning of Theodora’s death place hit Archibald hard, but he didn’t say so.

“No, Benny. That won’t be necessary. I am wrought with grief, but my resolve is stronger than ever. I may want to retreat into a hole and perish, or charter a boat and sail as far west as I could, but I won’t. I will make the parrots burn for what they have done to my daughter.”

Bentley nodded in understanding. Archibald unexpectedly laughed.

“Imagine that,” he mused. “Incomprehensible loss and I’m ready to get back in the saddle and fight on.”

“We will do whatever you are comfortable with,” Bentley stated. “And if you need anything, please let me know.”

“Nothing has changed,” Archie muttered even though everything had. “The war goes on.”

“Your strength is nothing short of admirable,” Bentley commented. “Bless you, Archie.”

“And curse Psittancyna,” Archibald scowled. “And Scuridiae. Damn them all to hell. I vow you this, Bentley Connelly: I will scourge and plunder Psittancyna and Scuridiae with the almighty strength of Ursus. We will slaughter everyone who pledges allegiance to the Macaw and Chequer. The Summer Sun will be annihilated.”

## Production

### Continuity and Story Arcs

The War Plague, which ravaged Cartonia in “Remnants of the People,” finally subsided, leaving a horrific trail of devastation in its wake.

A defector from Cervidium brought the War Plague vaccine to the Granite Bloc, believing it to be the right thing to do. The vaccine subsequently spread across the Granite Bloc kingdoms, hastening the end of the pandemic.

The defector also presaged something evil in the capital of Cervidium, but died before he could elaborate.

During the sudden naval invasion of Ursus, Princess Theodora was captured and ransomed by the parrots and chipmunks. The trade-off soured unexpectedly, and Theodora was killed.

### References

Much of Ursus is based on medieval England.

Tardisham Tower is based on the Tower of London.

The Summer Sun refers to the War Plague as the Ursine Virus because of its discovery in the Ursine trenches; this is a reference to the 1918 influenza pandemic being called the “Spanish Flu” even though the virus did not originate in Spain. It likewise references politicians in 2020 referring to COVID-19 as the “Chinese Virus.”

Much of Equine Isle is based on royal Spain.

The Cape of Alyaska references the Russian pronunciation of “Alaska,” where many bears live.

Sitka Beach is a nod to Sitka bears, native to Alaska.

## Trivia

* The title of this episode is taken from the song "If I Die Young" by The Band Perry: "If I die young / **bury me in satin**."
	+ The line was used to describe Princess Theodora's fate: "Theodora was **buried in satin**, beside her mother."
* Chequer Vincent is the first chipmunk character introduced in the Storytime franchise.
* Tardisham Tower is named after the TARDIS from *Doctor Who*.
* Carnarvon, the capital of Ursus, is named for the British Earl of Carnarvon, best known for his funding of the archaeological dig that uncovered King Tut’s tomb in 1922. The name ‘Carnarvon’ in the Storytime context is meant to evoke the word “carnivore.”
* Navarra Caligari is named after the historical Kingdom of Navarra in present-day Spain. Her title, Heredera, means “heir” in Spanish.
* The Psittanine language is based on both Latin and Caribbean dialects.
* The official name of Psittancyna (The Psittacorum) means “parrots” in Latin.