Vol. 3: The Tactician and the Black Fang: Chapter 10: New Resolve          Chapter 2: Living Legend

 

This chapter was fairly interesting to write. And I wrote four versions of the boss battle, corresponding to the four people Ceniro suggested. I’ll post the alternate versions shortly. I’m partial to Kent’s version. EDIT: they are up.

 

Vol. 4: The Tactician and the Dragons

Chapter 1: Kinship’s Bond

The continent of Elibe basked in the late summer sun. On the surface, peace reigned supreme. Farmers worked, mostly undisturbed by bandits or the wars of the nobles; in the cities, merchants bartered their goods. Little showed of the recent turmoil that had churned up half of Lycia.

Eliwood, Hector, Lyn, and their group journeyed west towards Ostia the next day and the day after, passing along the coastline of Laus. On the second day, they stopped for lunch at an old fortress on the Ostia/Laus border, lightly manned because of the existence of a much more modern and formidable fortress two kilometres east. Ceniro spent the time among the ranks, getting to know the newer faces as people and not just faces and weapons, though old friends demanded his attention as well. Wil was fussing over his feet again.

“I don’t know how you wander the world,” he said. “I used to travel, yes, but I couldn’t do it every day for months on end.”

“Yes, you could,” Ceniro said. “You’d get used to it. Anyway, we’re actually going a bit slower today, doesn’t that help?”

“I, uh, didn’t notice?”

“I could carry you, if you like?” Florina offered, and Ceniro stared at her. Florina blushed, but Ceniro smiled. The pegasus knight was actually interacting with men, and with archers, and more than that, she seemed to have a real fondness for Wil in particular. She didn’t openly express it, but Ceniro could see it in the way she stood near him when Ceniro gave orders, and the way she fluttered when he got hurt. And Wil was even more openly fond of Florina, sometimes standing between her and new male recruits – he actually stood up to Raven when the swordsman started trying to give Florina a hard time. Between Wil and Lucius, he soon left off.

Rebecca, on the other hand, didn’t have the time of day for Wil, and Ceniro could tell it bothered him. Perhaps some subtle information gathering was in order. Later.

“Nah,” Wil said. “I just gotta suck it up like a real soldier.” He winked at her.

“You’ve just gone soft from living in Caelin Castle for a year,” Dorcas teased.

Wil grinned. “I guess… but, it’s pretty good! Good friends, a roof over my head, and the opportunity to make a difference by driving away the bandits in the Eagle Hills. It’s as much fun as being a mercenary, and more comfortable.”

“Yes, that does sound like a good life,” Ceniro said. “I’m sorry to drag you away from it…”

“Don’t be silly. We all like following you. And, isn’t this a chance to make even more of a difference? I mean, what’s up with that Nergal guy, anyway?”

“I know,” Ceniro said, and laughed. “Oh, hang on. Lyn’s waving at me. I’ll be right back.”

“Sure thing.”

Hector was talking to a mounted messenger in the great hall of the castle, and after a few minutes, dismissed him. He turned to Eliwood, Lyn, and Ceniro. “I did send a message after what you said the other day, and it seems my brother is already on his way here. We’re to wait for him here.”

“Why would Lord Uther come to us?” Eliwood asked.

“Well, you know how I said Castle Ostia is full of spies? I assume he thinks it will be easier to speak freely out here.”

“Won’t his leaving draw even more attention?” Lyn asked, frowning.

Hector snorted. “He’s travelling in secret with few attendants. He’s done this before; he’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Lyn smiled. “How unconventional. It must run in the family.”

“Hey!” Hector said. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

Lyn gave him another smile, this one nothing but charming. “Nothing. I’m looking forward to meeting him very much.”

At that moment, they heard Ninian cry out. “Nils? Nils!”

Lyn and Eliwood turned instantly and ran to the next room in the fortress, where Ninian knelt beside Nils, who seemed to have collapsed. “What happened?” Lyn asked anxiously.

“Nils, you all right?” Hector asked, squatting beside the boy.

“Nils!” Ninian wailed.

“Ninian, calm down!” Eliwood said, taking her hand as he knelt beside her. “It will be all right. Let’s just move him into the back room and call a healer…”

“No, don’t move him!” Ninian said, still greatly upset but more in control of herself now. “I-I’m sorry. Please, just don’t move him.”

“…Okay,” Hector said, standing up again. “Whatever makes him feel better. No healer?”

“N-no. Just… one night’s rest. He gave me too much of his power, I think. Oh, Nils… I’m sorry, Lord Hector.”

“No worries,” Hector said. “We have to stick around here anyway. Hm?”

“Lord Hector!” Oswin announced from the door. “The fortress is surrounded by hostile mercenaries!”

“What? Not now…”

Ceniro pulled out the farseer, intending to check Oswin’s statement, but when he gave it the command to scan the area, it gave a pop and a puff of smoke, and he yelped and dropped it. “Ow! Drat. Ow.”

“What’s wrong?” Lyn asked. “Did it break?”

“It’s certainly not working… I don’t know what’s wrong with it, and I don’t have the knowledge or skill to fix it. The only person who does, I have no idea where he is. But I’ll just have to fight without. Just like old times. Come on! Oswin, what kind of forces are we looking at, and where?”

“Unsure of exact numbers, as they are partly hidden in the brush. However, there are definitely wyvern riders both east and west, and a number of archers, axemen, and possibly mages among the group to the south.”

A new, unfamiliar soldier ran up to them. “My lords! There are already enemy forces penetrating our defences! Please, help us with your soldiers!”

“Who are you?” Eliwood asked.

“I am captain of the mercenaries stationed in this fortress; my name is…”

“Rath?” Lyn asked. “Is that Rath over there?”

The Sacaean horseman turned his head. “Lyn of the Lorca. Are you being hunted again?”

“Well met, Rath of the Kutolah!” Lyn turned back to the captain. “Listen, sir, this is our tactician. Do whatever he tells you and we’ll be fine.”

Lyn and Rath continued their conversation as Ceniro ran up to the ramparts to take stock of the situation. There was a ballista down in the courtyard; the main gates of the fortress had crumbled in some assault in the far past, and the enemy mercenaries were already climbing inside, battling with the friendly mercenaries defending the castle. “First. We have to defend the ballista. They’re far too close to it. Canas, Erk! We need some fire power. Scare them away. Lowen, Sain, Isadora, get down and to the west; charge across the courtyard with your swords. Raven, Guy, Eliwood, Lyn, meet them on the far side – hammer and anvil. Florina, Fiora! Get the mages! And someone tell Salir to go in the back with Nils.”

He had to shout, something he hadn’t had to do in a while, but he trusted that they heard him or that someone would repeat to them what their assignments were. But, oddly enough, he could hear someone else shouting orders, too, someone outside the fortress.

“Who’s that?” he asked Hector, pointing down at a paladin waiting outside the gate.

“His name is Eubans,” Hector growled. “A very good mercenary, and until recently was in Laus’s employ. I wonder what he stands to gain here…”

“Wil! The ballista’s free, get on it!”

“Not many bolts left, what do you want me to target?” Wil shouted up at him.

“Got a couple armour knights moving in, take them! Lucius, you take them too!” Ceniro looked around. “Hector, take the other axemen and hold the eastern flank of the castle. Don’t let anyone in.”

“You got it.”

“Marcus! You and Oswin are on the west! Take Rebecca and Matthew and Legault! Eliwood, head over there with Ninian. Serra, you’re healer for the east, Priscilla, you’re on the west.” He peered down at the eastern gate. “Lyn! Hector’s in trouble, go to him! Rath, Wil needs cover from a mage!”

Eubans was moving up. “Mages, watch for archers! Armour knights, take cover from the ballista – do not move in its line of sight! Yves, go give Heath back-up. Giles, target that tactician, bring him down!” Ceniro took a step back from the edge of the parapet as a volley of arrows came arcing down on him.

“Uh… Kent, can I ride with you? I need to be more mobile.”

“As you command,” Kent said, and held still long enough for Ceniro to awkwardly climb up behind him. “You need to practice mounting a horse more…”

“I know… sorry… okay, I’m set. Let’s go see what things are like on the west-”

Something swooped down on them, and Ceniro yelped and tried to burrow into Kent in pure reflex. A green wyvern landed beside them. “I’m not an enemy!” the rider announced.

“Who are you, then?” Kent demanded, his lance set to charge.

“My name is Heath. I cannot in good conscience attack unarmed women and children. I have already surrendered to Lord Eliwood and I wish to fight for you.”

“In that case… Heath? Go back to fight beside Eliwood. That side’s a little bit weak. Kent, change in plan, I- hang on. Isadora! Get Wil out of there!” There was a mage threatening the archer.

The battle swirled around them, and since Ceniro was no longer being targeted for the moment, he sent Kent off to join Sain and called several fighters from each flank to replace each other.

The enemy commander was difficult to fight. This was the first time he had ever encountered someone who took charge on the battlefield like he did, someone who commanded individual soldiers. Neither side was having much luck scoring kills, although thus far Ceniro had not lost anyone. At a lull in the commands, Ceniro stared at Eubans, trying to size him up – Eubans stared back.

“Why don’t you come down here and fight me yourself, pup?” Eubans bellowed up to him.

“I think I’d rather not,” Ceniro called back. “My only skill is tactics and I’d rather not get sat on by your warhorse.”

“Wyverns-”! shouted Eubans.

Ceniro dove for cover as a shadow appeared over him. “Rebecca! Dart! Deal with that!”

Every order Ceniro called, Eubans countered, and Ceniro counter-countered, until both sides ground to a halt and looked at their tacticians in confusion, as the rapid blitz of orders was becoming too fast to follow and it was clearly becoming a purely mental challenge on both sides.

Ceniro moved back to the edge of the rampart and considered his opponent; Eubans was red-faced.

“You’re not bad for a mere child!” Eubans called. “Still, I live and breathe the air of war, and you won’t beat me in the end!”

“You’re pretty good yourself!” Ceniro answered. “Were you also trained by Lord Garlant? No one else has even come close to challenging me one-on-one since I left Ostia!”

“Oooh, cocky,” Hector said. “Keep talking like that and I’ll follow you to hell and back.”

“I thought you already were,” Ceniro murmured back.

“It’s clear that you and I won’t outfight each other with our forces,” Eubans called. “I propose a duel.”

“Why should we fight anyway?” Ceniro said. “Marquess Laus is dead. There is no reason for you to be here.”

“For our honour-”

“That you left behind when you decided to include women and children in your assault!” Heath shouted suddenly from behind Ceniro. “There’s an injured boy in this fortress! All they are doing is protecting him!”

“And before that, they invaded Laus-”

“Who ambushed us, and then invaded Caelin, who was aggressor to no one-” Eliwood started.

“And then they killed Marquess Laus-”

“In combat,” Hector protested. “He was doing pretty good until he made Eliwood mad. At least, I think that’s what happened,” he said, turning to Eliwood.

“Enough!” Eubans cried. “I am not here to debate ethics. Send me your best warrior, and I shall face him in combat.”

Ceniro frowned at Eubans and sucked on his lower lip. “And if they defeat you, you will withdraw?”

“I will be dead, but my forces will withdraw, yes. And if I defeat you, you will put down your arms and surrender. Laus will grant you that mercy.”

“We accept,” Eliwood said, with the sincerity that told Ceniro he was telling the truth.

“Eliwood, is honour more important than your life, not to mention saving the world?” Hector demanded.

“Heath, do you think it’s possible to defeat him without killing him?” Ceniro asked.

Heath slowly shook his head. “He will fight as long as he has strength in his body.”

“A sleep staff would come in handy… but that’s probably cheating,” Ceniro muttered. “Um. Let me see… Hector… Kent… Lyn… Rath…”

“That’s a lot of names,” Raven said. “Send me.”

“He’s using a lance; you’re good, but that’s not a chance that’s worth taking.”

“Well?” Eubans called. “I’m ready!”

“Hector,” Ceniro said. “You’re up.”

Hector grinned. “An excellent choice.”

“No pressure,” Lyn said. “It’s only our freedom and the fate of the world at stake.”

Hector rolled his eyes as he shouldered his axe. “Have a little faith in me, would you? I’m only going to single-handedly save everyone…”

He stepped out of cover into the courtyard, and no arrows shot out at him, and no spells erupted around him. Thus far, Eubans was keeping his word.

Hector let the head of his axe fall to the ground with a thud. “Come at me, then!”

Eubans’ horse pawed the ground, then reared. It hit the ground and galloped towards Hector.

Hector raised his axe again and spun it around his head. As Eubans closed the distance between them, Hector jumped back to avoid getting run down, and dodged the point of the spear. As Eubans came around to try again, Hector ducked and smacked the horse with the flat of the axe, making it startle. Although the roughness of his self-teaching was evident, his control over his weapon was equally evident.

The third charge, Hector neatly side-stepped and brought the blade crashing down sharply on the lance, a move that Ceniro would hardly have believed possible.

Eubans only drew his sword, and Hector raised his eyebrows. “Hm. Maybe should have finished him before he brought that out. Oh well. Have at thee, or whatever.”

Eubans began to whale on Hector’s defenses, a bit faster than the lord was comfortable with, Ceniro knew. He blocked every blow, but sooner or later, something was going to get through. He let a stroke fall on his right pauldron, and the next stroke knocked the Wolf Beil from his hands and into a heap of rubble.

Hector didn’t even waste time glancing after it, taking the next sword blow on his forearm. Instead of backing off, he jumped forward, inside Eubans’ striking arc, and hauled the mercenary captain from his saddle. Then, as Eubans was trying to find his footing and defend himself, Hector punched the sword out of his hand.

There followed the most brutal fist-fight Ceniro had ever witnessed. Both were very strong, and heavily armoured, but after a few swings, the advantage turned to Hector.

At least, until Eubans grabbed his wrist and plunged a dagger into his side, below the armour. The watchers in the fortress gasped. “Hector!” cried Eliwood, Lyn, and Ceniro.

“Seriously!?” Hector spat in anger and pain, and as Eubans began to chuckle darkly, punched him in the face with his other fist.

Eubans went flying backwards, and Hector yanked the dagger from his side. “Ow. Oh gods…” He followed that up with a number of words that made Dart cover Rebecca’s ears.

“Are you all right?” Ceniro called.

“I’m fine! Don’t distract me!” He gestured to Eubans. “Pick up your sword. We’ll finish this with weapons.” He picked up his axe and drew it back, ready to strike.

“You’re a fool,” Eubans rasped, but picked up the sword and ran at him.

“And so are you!” Hector gritted, blocking the first stroke. The wound was slowing him more than before, but Eubans had taken a beating and was not raining blows down on him nearly as fast as before. They were still pretty evenly matched.

Eubans slipped in a blow and bashed Hector in the side of the head with the pommel of his sword. Hector fell to the ground and grunted. Eubans pointed his sword at Hector’s throat. “Surrender.”

Hector knocked the sword aside with his arm and flung his axe wildly upwards. Eubans staggered away, clutching his gut. “Never, you bastard,” Hector gasped, and let his head fall back as Eubans crumpled to the stones.

“Is… is it over?” Eliwood asked. Both combatants were sprawled out on the ground, and neither was moving.

“I think so,” Ceniro said. “Serra! Go heal Hector! Marcus, Dorcas, go with her.” The cleric ran out onto the field obediently, as the enemy mercenary force picked up their fallen leader and departed quietly.

 

Lord Uther arrived a few hours later, while the castle’s mercenary garrison was still clearing away the few fallen bodies and trying to decide what to do with the charred remains of the ballista. Nils was still in his coma, but Ninian assured them that he would still be okay in the morning.

Hector, almost fully healed and back on his feet, greeted him and was greeted with a hug that looked like it would shatter every one of Ceniro’s bones. Both were big men, dressed in heavy armour, and they looked very similar, although Uther looked to be in his mid-thirties.

“So you’re alive after all,” Uther said, deadpan. “Another day and I would have arranged a funeral rite.”

Hector had the grace to look sheepish. “My apologies. We’ve been a little busy.”

Uther’s face fell. “Yes… Leila’s final report and Matthew’s follow-up covered much.” He turned to Eliwood. “Eliwood. I am sorry about Lord Elbert. I was powerless to help.”

“No…” Eliwood murmured. “Nothing could have been done. More importantly, what do you know about Nergal?”

“Only what has been reported to me: that he appeared a year ago and took control of the Black Fang. Then he ensnared Laus in a plot of rebellion against Ostia. I can’t see what he’s after…”

“He wants to bring back dragons,” Hector said bluntly. “Take their power and rule the world with it.”

Uther’s face went blank. “Bring back… dragons? Can that be done?”

“Let me explain,” Eliwood said quickly.

 

Uther listened to their story carefully, and then dismissed them to consider what they had said.

“He believes us, right?” Lyn said. “It’s pretty far-fetched…”

“Oh, he believes us,” Hector said. “The question is… will anyone else believe us, until dragons are actually seen in our skies? And by then it would be too late. It’s even got him brooding about it, and he’s a firm believer in quick decisions.”

“I wonder what will happen next?” Eliwood said. “Ideally, we could bring all the lands and peoples together to prepare to fight as one. It would be a return to the unity of humanity during the Scouring.”

“Like he said, they won’t believe us, though. We have to stop this now, before Nergal can succeed,” Lyn said. “There is no other option; we’re the only ones who know enough to take action.”

“Let’s see if my brother’s ready to talk to us,” Hector said. “Ninian, you’re joining us, right? You’re probably the most important person in all this.”

“Y-yes, I will join you,” Ninian said.

“I have decided,” Uther said, when they entered his room. “And yet, I would rather not place this burden on your shoulders alone… You should have the support of the united Lycian League, but I do not see that happening in the near future. I see no choice. Eliwood, Lyndis, you are also resolved to continue on?”

“We are,” Eliwood said. “We’re prepared. Any one of our followers is free to leave at any time, yet they’ve stayed with us this far.”

“I’m definitely staying,” Lyn said. “I hate sitting back, doing nothing, letting others do it for me.”

“How unconventional,” Uther commented, earning him a slightly startled look from Lyn, which he ignored. “And you, young Ceniro? My brother and his friends are in your debt. Are you staying with them?”

“Yes,” Ceniro said, trying not to sound nervous. “I may not do much besides yell at them, but I think it’s been helpful so far.”

“You’ve been more than helpful, shut up,” Hector said. “We would have lost today without you. And me.”

“I see,” Uther said. “Thank you. Keep them safe. I will aid you as much as I can. Good luck to you.”

“Brother, there is one more person you should meet,” Hector said. “This is Ninian, the girl we told you about.”

“I-it’s an honour to meet you, Marquess Ostia,” Ninian stammered.

“My brother tells me you possess a special power,” Uther said. “If that is the case, can you tell me where this Nergal is now?”

Ninian closed her eyes as if thinking deeply. “He is… very far east. Very, very far.”

“That’s not Bern, is it?” Hector said.

“If he wins over the King of Bern, there will be great trouble,” Uther said. “Bern is extremely militant as it is…”

“Perhaps he’s just gone back to the Black Fang headquarters?” Eliwood suggested. “They’re in Bern, aren’t they? My father… my father greatly wounded him. He must need somewhere to recover.”

“He is… very weak,” Ninian said. “If we act now…” she opened her eyes. “Whatever his other reasons for being in Bern, Lord Eliwood speaks truly about his recovery.”

“What can we do, though?” Lyn said. “We could go assault the Black Fang headquarters, but…”

“Actually,” Uther said, “go to Missur.”

“But that’s the wrong direction!” Hector cried, and winced as he strained his side.

“You may find aid in the Nabata Desert… I think you must meet the living legend.” He frowned at Hector. “What happened to you?”

“I fought a duel today, and some of my injuries are still healing,” Hector grumbled. “What do you mean, ‘living legend’? Do you know something we don’t?”

“Not more than you’ve told me,” Uther said evasively. “More importantly, I need to have words with your tactician.”

“Y-yes?” Ceniro said, startled. He had thought Uther was done with him and had retreated to the corner.

Uther looked him up and down. “Why aren’t you wearing armour?”

Ceniro fidgeted nervously with the hem of his tunic. “Because if I need armour, I’m too close to combat anyway. Sir. I can’t fight.”

“He’s not terrible at staff fighting,” Lyn said helpfully, “but he’s not supposed to be in combat, no. He’s not the only one in the army who isn’t supposed to be in combat, though.”

Uther considered this. “It’s not unheard of, but most tacticians in Ostia wear at least some armour. Take up your staff and I will show you why.”

Ceniro warily pulled his staff from his back and faced the marquess.

Who kicked him in the crotch before he could react.

Ceniro took it like a man and crumpled to the flagstones, a squeaky little whine escaping his throat as he tried to retain some form of sanity. His dignity was long gone.

“Um.” Hector sounded like he was trying to decide whether to laugh or be angry.

Eliwood was silent, but Lyn was not. “Why would you do that? You really are just as terrible as Hector, you know that?”

There was a sound of shifting armour, as if Uther had shrugged. “He needs armour. A chestplate at the very least. Get him some.”

“You didn’t even attack him in the chest! Should we get some for Ninian and Nils, too?” Lyn asked sarcastically.

“That would be a good idea,” Uther replied. “If you truly want to keep them alive, yes. I’m not going to suggest it for you Sacaeans, as you do your own thing and it works for you. But the others, yes.”

“What about Matthew and Legault?” Eliwood asked. “They don’t seem to wear armour…”

Hector coughed. “Matthew’s always wearing armour. You didn’t know?”

“No…?”

“Matthew! Come here!”

Ceniro managed to open his eyes and sit up, finally. “By Roland’s bloody eyes, I wish that never happened.”

“You and me both, son,” Uther said, and Hector rolled his eyes. Matthew distracted them from whatever comment Hector was going to make.

“You called, my lord?”

“Yeah, take off your shirt.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Uther just deprived Ceniro of descendents to make a point about armour. Show ’em what you got.”

Matthew glanced at where Ceniro sat protecting himself, sighed, and undid the clasps on his tight-fitting green shirt, revealing a layer of fine chain mail over leather. “I know Legault has a similar set up; I asked.”

“You actually asked?” Hector said. “You didn’t just, like, sneak a-”

“Young master,” Matthew said, reprovingly, and Hector grinned.

“All right,” Ceniro said. “I will get armour. When we can.”

“Attaboy,” Hector said, and clouted him on the shoulder in a friendly way. Ceniro staggered sideways into Lyn, who rolled her eyes.

“All right, stop abusing the tactician. I think it’s bedtime for certain folk…” She glared at Hector, who stared back unrepentantly.

“I agree,” Eliwood said. “Come, Hector. Are you staying the night, Lord Uther?”

“I think I must,” Uther said, glancing at the sun that hovered low in the sky. “Besides, I have not yet spoken to Hector enough.”

Hector bowed, a little sarcastically. “I apologize for my over-long visit. …Is now a good time?”

“Now is fine. Good night, Eliwood, Lyndis, Ceniro, Ninian.”

 

Vol. 3: The Tactician and the Black Fang: Chapter 10: New Resolve          Chapter 2: Living Legend