Episode 4: Dragon’s Breath Episode 6: The Unflinching
Oh hei, it’s a chapter of Anima’s Seal. It’s Camp Nanowrimo time or something?
The big battle at the end of the chapter was written to the following Astebreed tracks: Return of the Fragments, The Same Origin, Destruction of the Core, and Prism Reflection. Although Prism Reflection is kind of my favourite so I use it for everything really. XD
Conveniently, I watched this about the same time I was thinking of Shiroe’s battle in Log Horizon episode 3 and his plan with the lights…
Episode 5: Pherae’s Son
“Our first destination should be Pherae,” Ceniro said over breakfast. “Eliwood probably still has Durandal. It’s further than Ostia, but the Western Isles are further still, and we don’t even know where we’re going in the Western Isles.”
“Wait, what did you say?” Rigel said. “Did you say that Marquess Pherae owns Durandal?”
“He’s been borrowing it,” Lyn said proudly. “Roland himself said he was worthy. But our task for it is long done, and Durandal should be returned to its resting place.”
Rigel’s face was overwritten with questions, but she refrained from asking them.
“I think you’re right,” Lyn said to Ceniro. “We can enlist Hector’s help on the way back, maybe.”
“Do you know all the Marquesses?” Rigel asked.
“Not all of them,” Ceniro said, smiling. “Two of them we know well. Lyn would be a third but she has no interest in that. But we know her grandfather. And then we know a few more, but we don’t like them.”
“Who do you speak of?” Pent asked.
“Marquess Araphen is a bigoted ass,” Lyn said.
“And the new Marquess Laus is… better than his father, but still not a good man,” Ceniro said. “So I guess… we know a lot of nobility, especially in Lycia. Well, Pent knows all the Etrurian nobility…”
“I wouldn’t say all of them,” Pent said, laughing. “But we’re off topic. We go to Pherae, get Eliwood’s blessing, head to Ostia, get Hector’s blessing, hide Durandal, hide Armads, and make for the next weapon?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Ceniro said.
“I have so many questions,” mumbled Rigel.
So they headed back into Lycia, marching around the vast shallow bay that held Valor. It took about a week; they traveled much faster now that Louise could ride without discomfort, holding Klein in her arms.
Along the way they got to know their new friend a bit better; Rigel was very knowledgeable about magic theory, especially for her age, but a little lacking in the practical application of it. She was astonished when Erk told her that he was Lord Pent’s student and used magic to fight all the time, and reluctantly agreed to let him help her develop her offensive abilities.
Ceniro had only been to Castle Pherae once, and he had never approached it since the last time he had been there, Athos had teleported them there. So his eyes were wide as it came into view, a rather small castle with a single great white tower at the back of the keep. It was separated from the castle town by a river.
On duty were familiar faces. “Lowen! Harken! How are you?”
Lowen jumped, though surely he had seen them coming through his still-overgrown mop of green hair. “Sir Ceniro! Lord Pent! Lady Lyn and Lady Louise!”
“We are well, thank you,” Harken said, less jumpy than Lowen. “This is most unexpected. What brings you to Pherae?”
“It’s… a private matter,” Pent said.
“We wouldn’t mind telling you, but it’s kind of in the open right here,” Lyn said. “Lowen, you look well.”
“I am well,” Lowen said solemnly.
“Then why so serious?” she asked.
“Because my beloved Rebecca’s father has said she may not be married before she is seventeen… and that is not for another year.”
Lyn smiled. “I’m sure you will both persevere.”
“Harken, have you and Isadora…?” began Fiora, leaning in.
“We have been married,” Harken said, smiling, the first real smile Ceniro had ever seen from him, and it seemed to come easily to him now. “We are happy together. But I should go announce you to Marquess Pherae. He will be even more glad to see you, and Lady Ninian will be as well.”
“Are they married?” Lyn asked slyly.
“Of course,” Harken said in a matter-of-fact tone. “In fact, you might be in trouble for not coming to their wedding.”
Ceniro laughed. “We were in Sacae until recently. It would be difficult for anyone to find us.”
“Indeed,” Harken said. “Please wait for a moment.”
He disappeared into the castle, and they talked with Lowen until they heard a hail, and saw Harken, Eliwood, Ninian, and Marcus approaching, all beaming.
It had been Eliwood who called to them, and he was the first to reach them, and he had to shake hands with all of them. “Ceniro, Lyndis! It’s been so long! Lord Pent, good to see you. My sympathies on the outrage of last winter. Lady Louise, you’re looking well! Who is this? He is adorable!”
“This is our son Klein,” Louise said happily, bouncing him a little. Klein burbled. “He’s not yet a month old.”
“Ceniro, we’ve missed you,” Ninian said. “Oh! Florina! I’ve missed you so much!”
Lyn elbowed Ceniro. “Guess we know who’s more important to her…”
Ceniro chuckled. “I already knew that. So Eliwood, I hear we should congratulate you.”
“You really should,” Eliwood said. “And we were thinking, you really should be our first child’s godfather. And Lyndis his godmother!”
“That’s the second couple who’s said that,” Ceniro mumbled to himself. “I hope this isn’t a trend…”
“But what are we doing out here in the courtyard? Let us go inside. Lowen, Harken, you may join us. Marcus, find replacements for the gate guard and join us also.” He turned to lead the way, and Ninian extricated herself from Florina’s embrace and laid a hand on his arm, following primly at his side.
They entered a private parlour where Lady Eleanora and Isadora were sitting; both women rose to greet them. It was a bit crowded, but Eliwood insisted they squeeze in somehow, even the soldiers he didn’t know.
“Mother, look who has come!” Eliwood said. “Ceniro and Lyndis and their friends!”
“Welcome, Ceniro, Lyndis, Pent, Louise,” Eleanora said. “Please make yourselves comfortable. What brings you to Pherae?”
“Besides keeping my promise to Eliwood of last year,” Lyn began.
“We rather need your assistance with something,” Ceniro continued.
“Something that could threaten the world’s existence,” Pent said.
“Again,” Wil finished cheerfully.
Eliwood glanced between all of them. “Are you talking about Durandal?”
“Yes, exactly,” Ceniro said, relieved that Eliwood was catching on quickly. “It’s still here, right?”
“It is,” Eliwood said. “I’d… rather not have it around, but I haven’t had time since my Ascension to go put it where it belongs. Is that what you’ve come to do?”
“Yes,” Lyn said. “Dark mages felt the wave that Bramimond put out to break the seal last year, and they’re already starting to look for the sources.”
“Sources?” Marcus said, frowning.
“This young lady can explain,” Pent said, gesturing to Rigel.
Rigel composed herself and told Eliwood what she knew. “I know it took us almost eight months to figure out anything, but I’m sure we’re not the only ones.”
“But the weapons are not only defended by the – were not only defended by the seal, but by traps and spirits,” Eliwood said. “I should know, that was a gruelling battle.”
“Once the locations are known, expeditions will get more and more elaborate until at last someone takes a weapon,” Lyn said. “We can’t let that happen. So… Pent is going to seal them again.”
“I studied Athos’s notes – and with a little help from some other friends, I have developed a smaller version of Bramimond’s seal. Although mine is an anima seal, not an elder seal, since my element is anima,” Pent said.
“So we’d like to put Durandal back,” Ceniro said. “Can we… have it?”
“Certainly,” Eliwood said. “In fact, I’ll see if I can’t make enough of a space in my work to join you for a time. So that all of us can join you! Mother, you should come too. You haven’t seen Ceniro in action.”
“Eliwood…” Eleanora said, smiling. “I’m too old for such things…”
“Oh, do come,” Ninian said. “I don’t suppose you knew, Ceniro, but Lady Eleanora is a skilled healer, and can even use light magic!”
“We could do with both of those things,” Ceniro said. “But it’s up to your ladyship, of course.”
“If I come, and Eliwood comes… who will mind Pherae?” Eleanora asked, wavering.
Marcus bowed. “Between me and Merlinus, nothing untoward shall happen.”
“Well…”
“Do you require my good word as well, my lady?” Isadora asked. “I assure you that Sir Ceniro is a most excellent tactician. Some would even say he is the best of the best. He will make sure that no one comes to harm, especially if we are only going to Ostia and back. And I know you secretly wish to come.”
“Ah… well, you are all united,” Eleanora said, relenting. “I shall come with you.”
“I am glad,” Eliwood said. “It will be good for us all to get out of the castle for a while.”
“I only pray it does not turn into a continent-spanning dash like it did last time for you,” Ninian said. “I am almost used to living here. It is peaceful, though busier than the shrine where I lived before…”
“Leave the continent-dashing to us,” Lyn said. “We’ve got that in hand. All you need to do is bring Durandal to Ostia with us.”
“I think we can manage that,” Eliwood said. “I’ve been wondering, looking at you… are you a… an actual group?”
Ceniro hid his face in his hands.
“Ceniro’s Elite Company, at your service,” George said, and chuckled. “Most of us are from Lord Pent’s guards, but we’ve all worked with Ceniro before, except for this young lady who only joined recently.”
“Ah, of course,” Eliwood said. “Congratulations, Ceniro!”
“Um. Thank you,” Ceniro said awkwardly.
They spent several hours catching up on everything; Marcus told them all proudly of the spectacle that was Eliwood and Ninian’s wedding, and everyone made faces at Klein, trying to get him to laugh. Eliwood commented on Ceniro’s Sacaean clothing, which he was still wearing even now – it was comfortable, after all.
There was dinner, and Eliwood insisted on making the preparations for the trip himself, so Ceniro only stayed a short while to help before going to bed. Lyn rolled her eyes at the fact that they couldn’t share a room like they normally shared a tent. Although Ceniro knew he was going to miss sleeping next to her, he also knew that he was going to really enjoy a proper bed. And so he did.
They set out in the early morning, heading northwest to Ostia, with Durandal in its sheath and wrapped in so many layers of cloth it looked like a shapeless bundle. They were joined by Eliwood, Ninian, and Eleanora, and also by Harken, Isadora, Lowen, and Rebecca, who had responded eagerly to the summons Eliwood sent her.
They made their way briskly north; the sun was out, and crocuses and daffodils and other early-spring flowers were blooming. Their spirits were as high as another outing on the same road, one that felt ages ago instead of only a year before. Eliwood seemed to make everything better just by being there.
“Ceniro,” said Lyn, “if we’re going through Santaruz, shouldn’t we see your family? It’s been a while since you saw them last, isn’t it?”
Rebecca looked at Ceniro sympathetically; she had been the only one to see Ceniro’s previous meeting with his brother at Santaruz Castle. No one had seen his last meeting with the rest of his family.
“I… don’t know,” Ceniro said. “I’d rather not.”
“But Ceniro,” Louise said earnestly. “You’ve never brought your friends along. Perhaps if they see the company you keep…”
“She’d think I was even more crazy?” Ceniro said. “Either it’s lords and ladies who are too good for me, or it’s frightening-looking people.” He looked at George and Caddie. “Sorry.”
“It’s no problem,” Caddie said, with a half-smile. “I’m used to it, at least.”
“They’re both married,” Yens put in. “We all are, even though we have scary faces, except for these lads here.” He nudged Andy’s foot, and Andy grinned. “But their faces are a lot more pretty.”
“Ha, I’ll trust Ceniro to get me a date as sure as he gets me targets,” Andy said.
Ceniro turned red. “I don’t-”
“What are you talking about?” Lyn said, slipping her hand into his. “You reveled in playing matchmaker last year, admit it!”
“Nooo,” Ceniro said, but the odds were against him, with Lyn, Eliwood and Ninian, Kent and Fiora, Wil and Florina, Lowen and Rebecca, and Harken and Isadora all around him.
But at least they were distracted from suggesting that they visit his home.
“So are you going to wear a deel or a shirt?” Lyn teased, and he realized he had spoken too soon.
“I… should probably wear a shirt,” he said finally. “She might take me more seriously if I look successful in a way that she expects me to look successful.”
“No… what do you want to wear?” she said, and he glanced at her, wary of her reaction.
“I don’t know…”
“Come on, tell me…”
“I… kind of would like to wear a shirt, too.”
For a minute, Lyn looked disappointed. “I understand. I’d be the same way if I had to wear a dress all the time.”
“You didn’t like the dress I gave you last year?” Eleanora asked.
Lyn hastened to cover her misstep. “Oh, well, it was lovely, just not what I’m used to wearing, you know? It was very helpful. It really was necessary to make a complete change from what I normally wear.”
“I’m sorry, Lyn,” Ceniro said, feeling like he’d let her down somehow and wondering why.
“Stop apologizing for everything,” Lyn said huffily. “Anyway, you should go see your family.”
“Right, right,” Ceniro said, recognizing that this was not a time to argue with her. “But not everyone needs to come.”
“Oh, do let us come,” Fiora said. “If your relationship with your mother is so poor, you will need us for moral support?”
“But he will probably be embarrassed,” Florina objected. “I can understand that part of it.”
“We won’t embarrass you,” Andy said. “We’ll back you up!”
“That’s probably part of it,” Eliwood said. “More people telling his mother the same thing won’t necessarily change anything.”
“That is absolutely true,” Ceniro said, sighing.
“So take only your very closest friends?” Eleanora suggested. “She will not be overwhelmed by two or three people, would she?”
“She might if one of them is Marquess Pherae,” Ceniro said. “She’s… of the opinion that nobles and peasants are different creatures and mixing them is a recipe for disaster.”
“I suppose I could stay behind,” Eliwood said, slightly down-cast. “If it would make her more comfortable…”
“Who will you take?” Pent asked. “Not me either, I suppose.”
“We can all be in the village,” Ceniro said. “There’s a little inn there. Just… I think I’ll only take Lyn, Kent, and Fiora.”
“They are honourable and sensible,” Eliwood said, nodding. “A good choice.”
“Thank you,” Kent said.
“Thank me after we leave, if you still feel like it,” Ceniro said grumpily.
Lyn laughed. “It will be fine.”
“I hope.”
As they approached the village of Dunborough, they became alert to the sound of horses ahead of them. In a few minutes, they saw a large group of knights on the road, maybe thirty, coming towards them through the trees. With them were about fifty footsoldiers and a baggage train.
“Ah, those are the colours of Marquess Santaruz, Lord Thornson,” Eliwood said. “I like him; he is a decent man.”
“Good to hear,” Lyn said. “Shall we say hello?”
“If he’s not in a hurry, that is an excellent plan,” Eliwood said. “Hmm, but Lord Pent, Lady Louise…”
“If you fear he will react adversely…” Pent began.
“No, it’s all right,” Eliwood said. “We know that you are innocent, and good people. He can draw his own conclusions. If he even recognizes you.”
The knights had seen them, and halted. “Who goes there?” went out a hail.
Harken stepped forward. “Marquess Pherae, Lady Ninian and Lady Eleanora, and companions.”
The Santaruz knights opened their ranks, and Marquess Santaruz rode towards them. “Ah, Lord Eliwood, well met. What brings you through Santaruz?”
“Well met to you, Lord Thornson!” Eliwood said. “I’m making a journey to Ostia to see Hector.”
“And the mercenaries?” Thornson said dryly.
Ceniro was looking at Thornson’s knights, and among the plain soldiers, he thought he saw the face of his brother, Drew. But Drew, if it was him, refused to make eye contact back.
“I know they look a bit odd, but they’re all good friends, every one of them,” Eliwood assured him. “This is Lady Lyndis, Marquess Hausen’s granddaughter, and this is Ceniro, the mercenaries’ leader and my dear friend, and one of the best tacticians in Elibe. He’s from a village nearby, so we’re heading there so he can visit.”
Thornson offered a very slight smile. “I greet you, Lady Lyndis, Sir Ceniro. Your generosity to your people is as boundless as ever, Marquess Pherae. But I would offer you a warning.”
“What is it?” Eliwood asked, his own smile fading. Ninian clasped her hands to her heart.
“My cousin, Lord Demory, is somewhere in this region, gathering an army to himself. He does not accept that our uncle, Lord Helman, left Santaruz to my guidance and not him. You should watch yourself that you do not get caught in the crossfire.”
“Oh, good, this again,” Lyn murmured to Ceniro, who blinked but managed to keep a straight face.
“We will be careful. Will you need our assistance?” Eliwood asked. “Where is your daughter?”
Thornson shook his head. “Summer is still in Santaruz Castle, safe away from here. I am traveling this moment to one of my border castles where I can oversee Demory’s tracking, defeat, and hopeful capture. I wish to bring him to Ostia as well to receive Lord Hector’s judgement. Perhaps I will see you there.”
“Perhaps you will,” Eliwood said, smiling again.
“If he threatens my people unduly, however, I will not hesitate to execute him myself,” Thornson said firmly. “I do not believe he would rule Santaruz well, and if he harms the people he is supposed to serve… I do not think Lord Hector would disagree, do you?”
“Not at all,” Eliwood said.
Thornson nodded. “I had best be on my way, but I wish you fair travels, Lord Eliwood, Lady Ninian, Lady Eleanora.” He bowed low to the ladies, and the three bowed low to him, and then they were off on their separate ways.
They arrived in Dunborough not long after, and while Eliwood took most of the group to the village’s tiny inn, Ceniro went with Lyn, Kent, and Fiora in search of his home.
It was a well-made, modest-sized wooden house on the main – and only – street in the village, with an awning or shutter closed over a large window beside the door.
Ceniro paused as they approached. “Guess Dad’s closed for the day.”
“That’s his workshop?” Lyn asked.
“Workshop, storefront… kitchen, dining room…” He still hesitated.
“Go on,” Lyn urged him softly.
He knocked.
There was a shuffle from indoors, and a young woman with chin-length hair the same colour and texture of his opened the door. “Ah! Ceniro!” She beamed at them. “And friends, this time! Come in, come in!”
“Who is it, Anlie?” a cross voice asked from the shadows of the house.
“Ceniro’s come home, with friends!”
“You couldn’t think to warn your family first?” demanded the older woman, bustling forward. “Nothing’s ready for guests, you inconsiderate lout! No food, sawdust everywhere- And of course it’s your wild adventuring friends – who is this foreign hussy with the gown all slit up to-”
“I love your dress,” Anlie butted in hastily to Lyn. “That’s really intricate embroidery!” She turned to her mother. “Mom, I’m sure they won’t mind if we take a moment to tidy up. They’re his friends.”
“Indeed, it’s no trouble,” Lyn said, a little faintly; Ceniro could see she was having trouble deciding which emotion she ought to be feeling. “May we help?”
“I think-” Ceniro began.
“Don’t worry,” Anlie said, sweeping sawdust off a chair and wiping it with a rag. “Just make yourselves… as comfortable as you can! I’ll get the good beer, Mom.”
Ceniro’s mother began muttering something about the good beer, and he felt it was time to try to interject again. “I think I should make some introductions. This is my mother, Patsi, and my older sister, Anlie. …Mom, where’s Dad?”
“He’s out making a delivery. He’ll be back soon. Which you’d know if you were a good son.”
He thought of checking the farseer for an avatar that looked like his father, but decided against showing off. “Mom, Anlie, this is Kent, knight of Caelin, and Fiora, knight of Ilia, and my fiancée Lyn from Sacae.”
Abruptly, his mother’s eyes widened and she bowed very low. “My lord and ladies, welcome to our humble home. I apologize deeply that I did not greet you properly before. If only my rude, foolish son had warned me…”
“Please don’t trouble yourself,” Kent said awkwardly. “We are not nobles – well, except for Lady Lyndis, but she does not stand upon ceremony.”
“That’s right,” Lyn said, nodding. “Truly, we’re Ceniro’s friends, and we don’t need special treatment.”
“Your ladyship is very generous,” said his mother, looking confused.
“We’re passing through on our way to Ostia with some friends and I… thought I should stop by again,” Ceniro said.
“Well, I’m very glad you did!” Anlie said brightly, passing out mugs filled with beer. Decent beer, too – Ceniro’s father could afford to keep his family fed well, even in this tiny village. “So you’re the famous Lady Lyn! I’ve so often wondered what you looked like. You’re just as beautiful as he said.”
Lyn looked at Ceniro, smiling, and he blushed. “Thank you, Anlie. And you’re just as kind as he said, too. I’m happy to finally meet you.”
His mother gestured to him, and he followed her reluctantly just outside the back door into the yard. Wood was stacked for seasoning under an awning, his father’s larger tools hanging neatly on the back wall of the house; everything was identical to how he had left it last time he’d been home.
Feeling they were reasonably out of earshot of the people still inside the house, his mother rounded on him. “You’re ‘passing through’ to Ostia with ‘some friends’, you mean other people than these?” she demanded in a hissing whisper. “How many other people!? Are you ashamed of your family!?”
“No!” he cried, the tense knot building in his chest that always appeared when he got in a fight with his mother. “I didn’t think you wanted to meet them. Besides, there’s eighteen more of them, they wouldn’t fit.”
“You didn’t think-! You don’t ever think, do you!? And they’re probably all knights and ladies and high-born, violent folk that you shouldn’t be associating with, just like these, of course you’re ashamed of us!”
“I am not, even though you’re ashamed of me for no reason I can fathom! You let Drew go off and be a soldier-”
“Drew remembers his place in society! He works hard, just like your father! He’s earning his place, unlike you, you just went off and squeezed yourself into the nobles’ attention like the atrociously rude little boy you are! That’s not how a carpenter’s son gains… whatever it is you’re trying to gain! You don’t know what you’re doing!”
“I know exactly what I’m doing! I’m the best at what I do, and enough of them respect me for it!” Not something he would have usually said, but it wasn’t completely untrue…
“Yes, you and your ridiculous ‘career’, all play and no work! You’re going to get people killed!”
“I know that! My first priority is to not get people killed!”
“And you carrying that horrible foreign sword – you’re going to get yourself killed! I always thought you would, but I’m certain of it now!”
“I’m not throwing myself into danger recklessly! It’s for self-defence!”
“You don’t send word while you’re away, you don’t send word you’re coming back – you were probably just going to breeze on by, ungrateful brat!”
“If I may interject-” Kent began from the main room. The walls, though sturdy, were not that thick.
“I don’t want to remind you that I’m disappointing you by my very existence!” he snapped and turned to go back inside. The others were standing frozen; Anlie had a fixed smile on her face.
“You’ve been doing it long enough, you ought to be used to it by now!” his mother retorted, following him.
“Maybe we should… step out for a moment?” Fiora asked in a very low voice to Kent. “It’s like when Farina…”
The front door opened, and a new person stood on the doorstep. “I heard shouting,” he said quietly. “Must mean Ceniro’s home.”
“Dad!” Ceniro and Anlie said at the same time.
His father looked around at all of them. “Let’s have dinner.”
Dinner was found, and as they ate, something approaching normal conversation was had, mostly between Anlie and Lyn. Ceniro’s father, Caro, said little, watching them all quietly, but Ceniro met his eyes more than once and read in them that he was glad he was home safe for a while. His mother was sulking, and Ceniro knew she would have more to say later, although his father’s calming influence might make her message more reasonably spoken. He hoped. Kent and Fiora found themselves with less to say than they had thought, he guessed, and he wished they’d stayed at the inn with the others.
Afterwards, Anlie showed the others around a little, some of the work that his father was doing, and she even brought out the little terrible animal figurines he had carved when he was ten, before he decided that he would make a lousy carpenter and had no interest in doing the rigourous apprenticeship that began at age twelve. Lyn and Fiora cooed over the misshapen animals, and Anlie gave Lyn one of them – a strange tiger-like thing.
“So you can lose your temper,” Lyn said to him in a low voice while the others talked. “I always wondered.”
“I’m sorry,” he said, guilt and shame twisting his stomach. “I’m so sorry. That must have been horrible to hear.”
“It wasn’t comfortable, that’s certain. But I’m sorry she doesn’t understand…”
“I shouldn’t have brought you all here…”
Lyn was quiet for a moment instead of saying something uselessly comforting, and he wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse. “Well, maybe us being here will be the first step to acceptance.”
“Maybe,” he said.
“So, tell me more about yourselves,” Anlie said. “You are knights, and you’re clearly a warrior of Sacae, you must have exciting stories.”
The four laughed a bit self-consciously. “Perhaps not that exciting,” Kent said. “I am the son of a farmer of Caelin, but I began my training as a squire almost as young as Ceniro would have had to. …I can’t think of anything else interesting about me.”
“I don’t quite believe you,” Anlie said, eyes twinkling. “My youngest brother, Drew, is a soldier in the employ of Marquess Santaruz. I don’t know if he’s a squire or not, but perhaps someday he will be a knight like you! He’s still only sixteen.”
“I think we saw him today, actually,” Ceniro said.
“Really?” asked his father, leaning forward into their discussion, taking his pipe out of his mouth.
“Lord Thornson was traveling south, and he crossed paths with Lord Eliwood, whom I’m traveling with. I’m pretty sure Drew was in his guard, though he said nothing. He looked well, anyway.”
“That’s good,” said his father, leaning back again.
Ping.
He jumped and pulled out the farseer.
“What’s that?” Anlie asked with great interest. “It looks magic.”
“It is magic,” Ceniro said. “A gift from a former employer.” He looked up at Kent and Fiora. “There’s an injured man approaching the village, status unknown. Can you intercept him, bring him healing if necessary, and report back?”
“Right away,” Kent said, and he and Fiora hurried out.
“Work?” his father asked mildly. His mother snorted.
“Maybe,” Ceniro said. “It depends if the village is in danger. My group is going to Ostia first and foremost.”
“What if Drew is in danger?” Anlie asked, eyes wide. “You wouldn’t help?”
“Drew is with Marquess Santaruz and his knights,” Ceniro said. “He’ll be safe enough there, and we’re not going to interfere with the inheritance dispute unless asked.”
“Ceniro?” Fiora said, her voice tense. “It’s one of Lord Thornson’s guards. He was ambushed and asks Lord Eliwood for immediate aid.”
Ceniro sprang to his feet with the farseer; Lyn followed suit. “Eliwood! Rally everyone, we have a mission. Meet me at the east side of the village as soon as you can.”
“Right away,” Eliwood’s voice came back, only slightly startled.
“You’re on first name terms with Marquess Pherae?” asked his father.
“He doesn’t mind,” Ceniro said. “I’m sorry, Dad, Mom, Anlie – I have to go.”
“Don’t go,” his mother said. “You’re going to get killed, with that stupid sword, and then what?”
“Mom, I can’t help Drew and Lord Thornson from here. I have to go with them.”
His father spoke up. “It’s his job, Patsi. This is what he has chosen to do. Let’s trust him.”
Unexpectedly, his mother began to cry. “But this is here, in Dunborough, this isn’t supposed to happen!”
“I’ll be back, mom. You’ll see. But I have to go. I don’t know how long I’ll be. Don’t worry about me.”
He nodded to his parents and sister and hurried out the door towards the east side of town.
When he got there, Kent was supporting the exhausted soldier, who was no longer injured thanks to Erk’s staff. Eliwood was assembling their forces, and Fiora waved Ceniro over. A crowd of curious villagers was gathering around them at a nervous distance, whispering, and he noticed that his own family had followed him.
He went up to Kent, Fiora, Eliwood, and the messenger. “Lord Eliwood,” the messenger said, still breathing hard and feeling his side as if he wasn’t quite sure it was mended, “Lord Santaruz has been attacked by Lord Demory some minutes ago with overwhelming force. He requests your immediate assistance, but he is aware that you have every right to remain uninvolved. However, he will not last through the night, and if you choose not to aid him, asks that you bid his daughter farewell.”
“How many are the enemy?” Eliwood asked.
The messenger’s face quivered a bit with fear. “Difficult to tell in the dusk and the forest, but probably about 200, sir, infantry, cavalry, and a few magic users. They are setting the forest on fire. It… it will be a massacre, sir.”
“How many of Marquess Santaruz’s knights were there when you left him?” Eliwood asked evenly.
“Maybe twenty, sir. Still a lot of our footsoldiers but I couldn’t count, sir.”
Twenty out of thirty, and no telling how many footsoldiers… No knowing if Drew was still alive. He heard his mother whimper and knew his family was thinking the same.
Eliwood turned to him. “Can we help them?”
All eyes turned to him. Ceniro swallowed, but met Eliwood’s gaze evenly. “Even with the raw numbers, we wouldn’t be outnumbered that badly. And they don’t have us. I think we can do this. …We have to do this.”
Eliwood nodded. “Yes, of course.” Unspoken was the concern that the village would get caught up in the battle, the villagers killed, the houses burned. “On your order, then.”
“How far away is the Marquess? Where is he?” Ceniro asked.
The soldier saluted him. “I will take you to him, sir!”
They arrived upon the scene of a disaster in progress; the sky was dark already, covered with thick cloud and with no hint of moon, the only illumination coming from distant fires. Ceniro could hear shrieks and the clash of weapons. A cool night wind caressed them, but he hardly noticed it.
His friends were tense, champing at the bit to be off. “Harken, Isadora, lead the cavalry in from the left! Break up the Demory attack, give Santaruz a breather! Eliwood, go inform Thornson we’re here. I believe he’s right in the middle of those knights.”
“Aye,” Eliwood called, and rode off in the wake of the rest of his cavalry.
“I… what should I do?” Eleanora asked. It was a struggle for Ceniro to not call her ‘Eliwood’s mother’ in his head. “I don’t know where to go… Should I stay near Eliwood?”
“It’s all right,” Ceniro said. “Just cast magic on those whom I tell you to, and you’ll be fine.” While the others were all used to fighting, and even more, used to fighting alongside each other, he had expected that Eleanora might not know her way around the battlefield. “You can stay near Eliwood for now. I’ll try and warn you of anything you need to know, like if I need someone to go past your position in a hurry.”
“Thank you,” Eleanora said. “I apologise…”
“No need,” he said. “Heal as many of the Santaruz knights as you can!” He called out more orders for everyone else, being as specific as he could about placement. His people didn’t have the vantage that he did, after all. It would be difficult to tell friend from foe under these conditions, especially since it appeared Demory’s men were as ragtag as his own mercenaries. And the lighting – the blasts of magic were wreaking havoc with everyone’s night vision. Rigel would excel here, however…
The first thing to do was to take some of the pressure off Thornson’s knights. He frowned in concentration. This was not going to be easy.
“Ceniro! Ceniro!” he heard a woman calling him, and turned.
“Anlie! What in Saint Elimine’s name-”
“Ceniro, Dad’s coming to help you! We can’t talk him out of it-”
“Get out of here, you’re a civilian!”
She was transfixed by the sights and sounds ahead, a look of horror on her face – he was at the back of the group, but the fighting was now only a few feet away. “Is Drew-”
“I don’t know! Andy, come here, take my crazy sister back to town! Ninian, help him!”
“You got it!” The cavalier rode out of the shadows, grabbed Anlie around the waist, and disappeared back into the night.
The farseer couldn’t tell individual soldiers’ faces at this time of night. He couldn’t tell if Drew was still fighting, not without getting involved. He pressed forward with Erk, not only trying to find his brother but to feel out where the pressure was, where the fighting was fiercest, and to direct Pent and Harken to focus on that area. “Drew! Are you there? Drew!”
“Leave me alone, you idiot!” Well, there was Drew.
“Sir!” Fiora’s voice. “Your father has arrived!”
“Dad!” Ceniro struggled back free of the press. “Drew’s all right. What are you doing out here!? You’re not a fighter-”
“I have an axe. It’ll do in a pinch.”
“That’s a woodworking axe. You’ll ruin it on armour.”
“It doesn’t matter. Lead on.”
“Dad-”
“Son-”
Ceniro spun away – Demory had made his big mistake. “Lyn! George! Florina! Demory’s mages are exposed – head south on the west side of the group! Go now, before he realizes it! There’s three of them and a bishop. No torches. Go!” Getting the flames to be under their control instead of the enemy’s would be a big help in more ways than one. He turned back to his father. “I won’t send you back like Anlie, but you follow my orders if you want to stay alive, got it!?”
His father nodded. “Whatever you need.”
“I’ll put you with Drew. Follow me.” Hopefully he would be able to keep his father from having to do any actual fighting, and having his brother guard his father would keep him out of trouble as well. “Pent, big knot of knights towards that rise of ground – can you put a Thunder on the one with the wolf’s helm? Fiora! Back off, there’s archers below you! Kent, Frank, make a loop from the left, flank them, help her. Yens, Louise, lancemen to your right!”
“Mages down,” Lyn reported curtly.
“Thanks! Get out of there, they’re trying to shut the stable door. Lots of axes.” Shutting the stable door after the horses had been stolen – or killed, in this case. They knew what he meant.
“We’re gone,” Lyn said.
He paused for a moment, eyes never still, sweat beginning to trickle down his forehead even in the cool night air. The battle was beginning to stabilize – Santaruz was beginning to rally, no longer foundering in a sea of enemy blades – but that was a long way from winning the battle. Time to focus on the next goal while he figured out how to win. “Don’t get stuck in, everyone! That’s what they want!”
Towards that end, he kept pulling people back, circulating the front row as often as he could, trying to wrest as much ground as he could to manoeuvre against Demory’s tacticsless tide. They were still losing ground, losing ground instead of people at least, and soon he’d have to think about protecting the village. It had flimsy wooden walls; a good solid charge would knock any of them over, let alone setting fire to the place. He’d rather fight in the open.
But things were just starting to go his way, and he could breathe now. Beside him, his father waited, every muscle in his body straining with uncertainty, the hyper-aware tension of someone ready for an attack at any second. An attack that likely wouldn’t come, between Isadora and Caddie helping the Santaruz knights take the brunt of the soldiers in front of them at the moment. “How are you holding up, Dad?”
“This is… very strange,” Caro said in a low voice.
Ceniro nodded. “It does seem that way at first glance. Andy! You’re back, go with Lowen, in the melee right of centre! Rebecca, target that woman with the sword, about forty-five to your left!” He nodded again. “There’s so much going on, and everything’s so fast. But you don’t have to worry about that. You and I, we’re the last shield for Erk and Ninian if anything gets past Isadora. That’s all you need to do right now.”
“Right.” Caro gripped his axe tighter, sweat beading on his concentrating face.
Ceniro thought of telling him it was all right for now, but realized that things could change in the blink of an eye and his father, inexperienced, would probably react faster with constant alarm than with a last-moment warning.
“Ceniro!” Eliwood’s voice. “I see Demory’s heraldry, he’s towards the back.”
“Thanks!” His mind spun. They would have to hold here or risk the village, he couldn’t back up anymore, wouldn’t be able to manouevre anymore… But Demory was on the field… “Ah, I have it. Stay here with Drew, Dad. Things should be over soon. Lyn! Pent! Rigel! Meet me in the middle with Eliwood!”
He found Marquess Santaruz and Eliwood. “I need all the mounted knights to head to the west side of the battle, flank the enemy, pound them as hard as they can.”
“That will leave us defenceless here in the centre!” Thornson cried, unhorsed, disheveled, shocked at the suggestion.
“That’s exactly what we want them to think. What does Demory want? He wants your life. He’ll ignore just about everything else to get that, based on his conduct of the battle so far. Without him, his troops will give up. Besides, that’s why we send the knights, it will take a lot of the pressure off here.”
Thornson stared at him. “We’re all about to die, and you want me to be bait!? Are you insane, young man?”
“We’re not about to die,” Eliwood said, calmly. “He wouldn’t be suggesting it if we were.”
“I’ll be here, with Lord Pent,” Ceniro assured the marquess. And Lyn and Rigel would be there as well, but Ceniro didn’t know how the marquess felt about women – young women, in particular – and Sacaeans. Plus which, his most heavy cavalry wouldn’t be going far, not the way he was planning it. Eliwood, Harken, and Isadora could sweep back into position at any time. And Eleanora was with them.
Still, they might not be all about to die, but he could see why Thornson thought he was insane. But he had too much in this battle – his father, his brother, the rest of his friends including Marquess Pherae and his family, and the worthy successor to the Santaruz throne. He couldn’t afford to lose.
Time to go. “Eliwood, lead the knights off now. Thor- Lord Thornson, get Demory’s attention. We want him to charge us, alone and emotionally comprimised, if possible.”
“Shouldn’t be too hard,” Thornson muttered. “Demory, you witless sack of goats’ tails! How have you not killed me yet!?”
“Tide of numbers will do you in, doddering wreck!” came from across the battlefield. Ceniro gave his final orders and waited, leaning forward slightly, watching intently.
“You couldn’t even do it yourself if I handed you the sword!” Thornson shouted. “Face me, coward!”
The black-armoured knight with Demory’s heraldry broke out of the enemy ranks, charging in their direction. “Go!”
At Ceniro’s command, black tendrils burst from the ground, entangling themselves around the legs of Demory’s horse. Elfire blazed up behind, illuminating Demory to them and blinding and scorching the enemy.
Demory pitched forward as his horse fell, tumbling in a clatter of armour to the ground at Thornson’s feet. Lyn darted forward and rested her knee on his back, one of her swords by his neck, the other by his right arm.
Thornson took a step forward and pointed his own bloodied sword at Demory’s face. “Lord Demory.”