Chapter 1: Taking Leave Chapter 3: In Search of Truth
Whoop whoop, another chapter done. Two more on their way! I’m getting all kinds of plot twists and connections that never occurred to me before. Good thing I didn’t try to write this when I was younger, lol.
Happy November 5? Or whatever? Look, have some Gullac, go party. I gotta write.
Chapter 2: Birds of a Feather
“Eliwood,” Ceniro said hesitantly, early in the morning on the next day. “You were saying Lord Helman, Marquess Santaruz, is a good friend of your father’s, right?”
“Yes, I’ve known him since I was a child. He’s like an uncle to me.”
“If we’re worried about Laus’s military, perhaps we could ask him to help provide us with an escort?”
“That’s a good idea,” Eliwood answered. “When my father left a month ago, he took twenty of the best knights of Pherae with him, and none returned. I left the rest at home to guard mother. I only really need Marcus and Lowen.”
“I understand.”
“Marcus?” Eliwood said. “Ceniro suggests we ask Lord Helman for an entourage.”
Marcus glanced at the tactician, who looked at his boots. “Yes, that is a sound suggestion. I shall- Lord Eliwood.” He stopped abruptly.
Ceniro and Eliwood looked up and saw another fat scarred man in the road, clad in ragged leather. He grinned, revealing crooked and missing teeth. “Alms for a poor villager, sire?”
“You look nothing like an honest man,” Marcus bit out. “Stay back!”
“Good advice,” the thug sneered, reaching out and catching an axe someone off the road threw to him. “Maybe you’d best be the ones following it.”
“What do you mean?” Eliwood asked.
“I mean someone wants you in an early grave, lordling. A shame if you ask me, but you die here today.” He waved to the forest surrounding the road. “Come on, boys, earn your keep!”
Ceniro looked around. “Twenty… thirty… this might be difficult.”
“Lord Eliwood, there are too many for us,” Marcus began.
“No, no, we can do this,” Ceniro said, still in a wary stance, glancing from his farseer to the terrain. “We do have to get off the road before they charge us. Let’s go to that hill, it’s defensible.”
“Lord Eliwood’s safety is of the utmost importance,” Marcus growled at the tactician, who flinched, but stood his ground.
“I agree, but we don’t have to retreat, either.”
“We will fight,” Eliwood said, brushing past both of them, rapier in hand. “That hill, Ceniro?”
“If he is so much as scratched, it will be on your head,” Marcus hissed at Ceniro, who flinched again and followed Eliwood as quickly as he could.
The bandits were still getting organized, but when they saw the group moving west to the hill, they let out a war-cry and charged at them.
“Quick!” Ceniro cried. “Look, ruins. Everyone get behind a wall. Rebecca, get as many as you can before they get here. Marcus, Lowen, ready your swords and counter-charge them on my signal. Rebecca, scratch what I said, target that one in the purple coat, try to split off the three to the right so the knights can take them.”
“And us?” Bartre demanded, feeling the edge of his axe.
“Brace for impact,” Ceniro told him, huddling against the wall and peering over it. “Where’d the leader go?”
The farseer said the leader was still a ways back, sending his men in groups of five or six. Typical bandit tactics when they were trying to be clever.
This group was a lot bigger and tougher than the one in Pherae had been. But he knew they could be defeated.
Rebecca’s arrows were not killing a lot, but they were making the bandits shy away, splitting the group.
“Now!” Ceniro said. “Marcus, Lowen!” There were four bandits in that group instead of three, but Ceniro trusted that General Marcus could take care of them all the same.
The two knights burst out of cover and ran down a bandit, cutting down two more with their swords.
“Dorcas, Bartre, cover the gap,” Ceniro commanded, and the two axemen moved into place.
The last bandit grabbed Lowen and dragged him from the saddle. The other charging ones were nearly at the wall.
“Rebecca, get back from the wall! Dorcas, assist Lowen!”
Eliwood stabbed a bandit in the face, his own face a taut mask of concentration. Lowen was struggling with his attacker; he was on the bottom, and not nearly as big as the other man, but he was certainly better trained – even if he was currently lashing out on terrified instinct. Dorcas came hurtling towards the two, dropped his axe, and dragged the bandit backwards off the knight, who grabbed his dagger and stabbed the bandit.
Marcus was wheeling around. Ceniro put the farseer away – he knew enough for the time being – and grabbed his staff, knocking a bandit on the head and felling him. The next wave was incoming. Lowen was back on his horse, good; Bartre roared and went off to join Dorcas, no longer within the cover of the ruined walls, but they didn’t seem to be in trouble yet, their axes cleaving wide swaths through the air.
Eliwood was sweating. “There are so many…”
“It’s fine,” Ceniro said. “You’re doing fine.”
“So are you.”
Ceniro ducked an axe, and Rebecca’s arrow hit the bandit in the eye. “Good shot!”
The farseer chimed in his ear, a sign that potential allies had entered the area. Ceniro couldn’t spare a glance for it at the moment. But soon enough he saw two tall figures appear out of the trees behind the bandits, one in orange armour armed with a spear, the other in blue armour with an axe.
“Who are they?” Ceniro murmured as the pair fell on the rear of the bandits. “They’re helping us…?”
“Hector!” Eliwood shouted, his voice carrying across the battlefield.
“Eliwood!” the blue man shouted back. “The hell is going on?”
“Just stay alive!” Eliwood answered. “Ceniro, we have to help him. He’s my friend.”
Ceniro glanced around. “Actually, it seems more like he’s saving us.” He rapped out a few more orders, and the number of remaining bandits was halved in a couple of minutes.
Lord Hector of Ostia was still holding his own, his knight beside him; the bandit’s attacks were either knocked aside or bounced off their very good armour.
“All right,” Ceniro said. “Let’s go!” He led Eliwood’s group back down the hill, ducking bandit axes along the way.
Hector came to them halfway. “Eliwood, long time no see. What’s up?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” Eliwood said, grinning, and hugged him. “Where did you come from?”
“You wound me! My best friend goes on a quest and doesn’t even invite me!” Hector pretended to pout, but the effect was ruined by his inherent manliness.
“But your brother was just named Marquess Ostia, surely-”
“-surely he doesn’t need my help. In fact, I’ve been a pain in his ass all month. I think he’s happy to see me off.”
“Look out!” Ceniro shouted at them, and they turned as one and attacked the bandit who had been trying to sneak up on them. Hector cut off his arm with one swing, and Eliwood stabbed him in the chest.
“I think that was the leader,” Ceniro said, peering at the farseer. Marcus nodded and went on a patrol around the group, looking for stragglers. “It doesn’t look like there are any left. Although there are two people up the road, but they appear to be travellers.”
“Oh, that would be Matthew and Serra,” Hector said. “I told them to stay back. Really couldn’t deal with Serra’s whining while I fought.”
“Matthew and Serra-?” Ceniro began, but Hector had already turned back to Eliwood.
“Eliwood, who’s this?”
“This is Ceniro. He’s a tactician by trade, and he’s agreed to join me.”
Ceniro tried to hold Hector’s intense stare. “You’re very young, Ceniro. We’ve tacticians in Ostia, but no professionals as young as you. Eliwood, you sure about this one?”
“I trust him,” Eliwood said simply. “Anyway, he studied in Ostia, so you might know him.”
“I studied under Lord Garlent, Lord Hector,” Ceniro said. “And perhaps you heard about Lyn’s arrival in Caelin last year, or Lord Pent’s quest in Etruria.”
“Something like that, yes,” Hector said, with a look that suggested he knew more than he was letting on. “Well, if Eliwood says you’re good, I’ll trust you too.” He shook Ceniro’s hand.
There was a squeal, and Hector put his gloved palm to his head. “Oh gods no.”
“Lord Hector, why didn’t you tell us the fighting was over?” Serra demanded, like a small yappy pink dog. “I’ve been waiting and waiting! Omigosh, is that Ceniro? Ceniro! Oh my goooosh it’s so good to see you again! Well now I know we’re in good hands. And you won’t leave my valuable assistance behind, isn’t that right?”
“I’m sorry,” Matthew said loudly from behind her. “I couldn’t keep her back any longer.”
“Are these your companions, Hector?” Eliwood said, with some confusion.
“Yep… One could have hoped for better, but… well, we all make do with what we’re given…”
“Omigosh, that was so rude!” Serra said. “Matthew, did you hear what he said about you?”
“Me? He was talking about you, you bloody-”
“The noisy pink one is Serra, obviously. Shockingly, she’s also a cleric. This fellow here is Matthew. He’s light on his feet and good with a blade, among other things. And you know Oswin, of course.” The knight in the orange armour bowed, and Eliwood nodded.
“And so… why are you really here, Hector? It’s a long way from Ostia.”
Hector’s expression turned grim. “This journey… I suspect it will be harder than you imagine… You need good friends at your side.”
Eliwood frowned. “What is it, Hector? Do you know something?”
Hector shook his head. “Nothing specific. Rumours abound, though. It seems pretty certain that an assassin’s guild from Bern has been moving throughout Lycia, and experienced mercenaries have been vanishing.”
“Vanishing? Not just being recruited into Marquess Laus’s army?”
“So you heard about that?”
“Only vaguely, and recently. What’s happening? And why do you think this bandit said someone wanted me dead?”
“I don’t know. But when I arrived, there was a soldier of Santaruz – just watching. I think he was planning to watch you die.”
“And so you…”
“I killed him,” Hector said simply.
“So rude!” Serra scolded him, and Hector scowled.
“But Santaruz…” Eliwood began.
“May not be as neutral as you would like to think,” Hector told him. “Were you planning to visit the Marquess?”
“Yes, of course. But doubly so, now. Do you think it is wise, Ceniro?”
Ceniro blinked at being called on. “Yes. You need answers. That soldier may have been corrupt. But if not, if Santaruz is hostile… I think we can still get in to the castle.”
Hector whistled. “You’re crazy. I like you. Do you even know Santaruz Castle’s defenses?”
Ceniro nodded. “I’m from Santaruz. I grew up a few miles north-west of here.”
“That so? Well, what are we waiting for, then? We can make it before night-fall.”
“Marcus?” Eliwood called. “We’re moving on now.”
“Very good, my lord.”
Matthew sidled up to Ceniro as they began walking, and Serra glomped Dorcas. “Dorcas! How lovely to see you again! Did you miss me? I know you missed me.”
“Hey, Ceniro,” was all Matthew said.
“Hello, yourself,” Ceniro said. “How long have you been in Lord Hector’s employ?”
“Ehhhhh…” Matthew hedged, and Ceniro tilted his head. “A long time. I was kind of… being a spy on Ostia’s behalf last summer.”
“Really?”
“You mad?”
“No, just understanding why you were so insistent that we hire you. I’m not mad. Just wondering… if we can still be friends?”
“Hey, that’s my line,” Matthew said, smiling. “And sure. You know me, my secret’s out… I don’t have… uh… much more to hide from you. So yes. Let’s be friends. You can’t trust me beyond the fact that I’ll follow your orders unquestioningly, but if that doesn’t bother you?”
“No, not really. I’m glad to see you and Serra again. It’s a small world, isn’t it?”
“Sure is. Hey, we’re falling behind, and we don’t want to walk into another trap do we?”
“M-matthew! Wait up!”