Episode 11: Sealing, Part 1 Episode 13: Tomorrows
Moar soundtracks! Well, basically the same ones as last time, but with the addition of Armageddon (whoooo yeahhhhh finally) for Lyn vs. Milton. Then, there’s Not Alone for the conversation between Milton and Ceniro afterwards. And since I probably won’t get a chance to stick it in elsewhere, Beyond the Canyon is my personal theme for Pent and Louise.
I’m hoping this chapter isn’t too over the top, but then Karel is literally a one-man-army-slayer in canon so it’s probably fine.
I am SO CLOSE
but I thought this chapter was going to be short-ish BUT THEN THE ENDING TOOK TOO LONG so a bunch of stuff has been moved to the next chapter
EDIT: I MOVED IT BACK, GO TO THE 2/3rds MARK FOR NEW STUFF
Episode 12: Sealing, Part 2
He burst into a small clearing that was very much on fire, looked around, and took charge. “Murdock, Zephiel, knights, charge the knights on the left! Caddie, don’t extend too far, let Yens take the one on the right! Erk… keep at it!”
Erk had been driving back a wyvern who’d landed almost right on top of Wil, who lay sprawled on the ground at its feet, a lance through his upper thigh terrifyingly close to his abdomen. Ceniro took his sword in both hands and ran past them, towards the footsoldiers that Caddie and Yens were fighting together.
With a screech, the wyvern collapsed in a pile of wings and Wil screamed again as the lance was ripped from his leg. Ceniro almost ran back, but forced himself to focus. “Erk-!”
“I have him!” Erk called, the swirling sounds of healing meeting Ceniro’s eager ears.
Sword clashed on lance-haft. His hands were still shaking, had been shaking ever since he charged that wyvern a few minutes ago. He was at a disadvantage here, while Caddie and Yens were not. Murdock was handling things on the other side of the clearing. They could be done here in two minutes… He sidestepped another lance-thrust, twisting so as to avoid yet another soldier, grabbed a lance and yanked. The lance came away and he lunged forward to capitalize on it, only to backstep abruptly as the soldier’s companions moved to block their disarmed comrade.
Suddenly he found that every soldier not already fighting the others was trying to attack him. “Milton, what did you tell them!?” he shouted at the top of his lungs, backing away, batting spearpoints away from his unarmoured body. “You think my friends will stop fighting because I’m dead? No way!” He gritted his teeth and kept blocking.
But hey, he wasn’t fighting like a newbie anymore. Lyn had trained him well. He’d probably survive long enough for his friends to save him.
“Hang in there,” Yens said with an encouraging note in his voice, moving to his other side to counterattack some of the soldiers. Caddie gave a roar and swung, driving them back and away from him. The two Reglay soldiers were working smoothly together and it gave Ceniro a second to catch his breath, wipe his sweaty forehead with a shaking arm. Then it was back to it – he had to support them with all he had, too.
He moved back to Yens’s other side and caught one on the edge of the group; ducking under the lance and moving forward low and fast, as Lyn had taught him, and slashed up. Blood spilled over the blade, spattered his face, and he shuddered as the soldier collapsed with a gurgling cry. He wanted to apologize again.
The clearing was beginning to look reasonably empty, and he turned back to Erk and Wil. “How is he?”
“He’ll be all right,” Erk said. “He was pretty badly injured, though.”
Wil sat up, cross-eyed. “Oh gods, I don’t want to do that again. Ah- ahhh, I don’t think I can stand…” He held out a hand to try anyway. Erk and Ceniro tried to pull him to his feet, but his right leg wouldn’t support his weight. “Nope! Not happening, not right now. It doesn’t hurt, it just… can’t take it right now.”
“All right,” Ceniro said. “Murdock, I need one of your knights to take Wil. Wil, you can still shoot from horseback, right?”
“Yep! Just point me in the right direction and I’ll shoot ’em all.”
“All right. You, stay with Erk, Caddie, and Yens, keep Wil safe. Do as Erk says. We’ll see you at the castle. Now keep moving!”
“You’re bleeding,” Erk said, and raised his staff.
Ceniro felt his cheek. “So I am. It’s just a cut. Save your energy. Go on!”
They split up again.
He caught sight of Pent’s group over to the left and swerved towards him. “How is it?”
“No sign of enemies so far,” George said. “I’m hoping that’s because we’re lucky and not because this tactician of yours has a big trap ahead.”
Ceniro thought about it as they jogged on. “It’s possible, but we’ll hear them before we see them. Watch your left.”
And – there was another wave of knights, bigger than the one they’d faced before, charging them from the left. “Get to cover!” Ceniro bellowed, and his people scattered to the sides… into a perfect encirclement. Oh, he was glad he had drilled that move. Murdock and his knights were not so quick to react, but Ceniro grabbed Zephiel and pulled his horse away from an oncoming knight.
Then there was a roar from behind him, and he turned to see that his encirclement had been encircled by footsoldiers. Many, many footsoldiers. Including mages! What a pain.
“You know you will be defeated here,” Milton said. “You have not even faced half of my army. How does that make you feel?”
“One mistake and you’re mine, as usual,” Ceniro retorted, gesturing to his forces to attack. This was going to be close… “How does that make you feel?”
Milton snorted derisively and stopped talking again.
Momentum. The enemy cavalry had lost it, they could safely ignore them momentarily; between the forest and the fact that they would prefer to maintain unit cohesion and therefore charge as a group, he could probably predict where they’d go. He moved George and Rigel out of their likely charge arc while bunching his people up in two groups to support each other against the swordsmen. “Renee, go for the mage! Pent will back you up! Murdock, support me, I’m going after the other mage, don’t get too close… but keep those swordsmen off me!”
He dodged a fireball with a high-pitched yelp and charged recklessly, his heart pounding with adrenaline and fear. He really didn’t want a fireball to the face…
Another fireball shot past him and he ducked reflexively, and he heard one of the knights scream. There were three swordsmen moving to cut him off, but with a drumming of hooves, Zephiel charged past, taking down one and driving the rest back a little.
“Thanks,” Ceniro called, and didn’t tell him to watch himself.
“My pleasure,” the prince called back, coming around again to rejoin Murdock. The injured knight was being tended to by Rigel. The enemy cavalry were regrouping after their second failed charge… He needed to take out the mage now. Why was he so far away!?
The mage stopped targeting the knights and began aiming at him, and about five swordsmen veered towards him. Milton trying to assassinate him again… He almost tripped over a fireball, his charged staggering sideways with the force of the explosion, and then – then the mage ran away and he was being surrounded by swordsmen. He was going to die, he was going to die-
He wasn’t going to die. “Murdock!” He didn’t want the armoured, predictable targets of the knights too close to the mage, but he had no choice. “Zephiel, go after the mage!” He blocked a sword, all the while bracing to get stabbed in the back. A sword sliced past his left side and he flinched, but he hadn’t been stabbed yet…
Murdock’s charge took out two of the swordsmen, the ones behind him, and he could focus better on fighting the ones in front of him. “Right, now go support Zephiel!” Zephiel and Murdock were back in a moment, clearing him of the rest of the swordsmen that faced him.
When he had a moment to look around, he drew in breath through his teeth slowly. Murdock’s three knights were trying to hold off Milton’s cavalry by themselves, while Pent and Rigel supported the rest of his people against the swordsmen trying to surround them and overwhelm them. That was all wrong. But Renee had taken down her mage. “Pent! Rigel! Drive off the cavalry! Knights, go attack the swordsmen! George, pull back, you’re going to be isolated!” No almost-losing-the-battle-because-of-a-single-archer this time, or Renee would never let him hear the end of it.
But Milton’s attempt to take him out had left the north end weak; if he could just disentangle his people from the south end, they could break through and keep heading north into the forest without too much pursuit.
Slowly, his people clawed their way back from Milton’s trap to a position where they could do just that, one at a time. How far did they still have to go? Too far. They hadn’t even reached the river yet.
Five minutes later, he splashed across the river and began the long climb up the other side, wondering how far ahead Kent’s group had gotten.
And there was a clatter as yet another wave of enemies appeared on the path ahead of them.
“Nope, nope, nope…” There was no punching through that, not with Milton’s heavy knights in front and archers in behind. They’d have to disengage somehow and make their way around. But on this slope… and the horses… And his people were getting tired, and they needed to save some energy for assaulting the castle, especially his magic users. “George, keep those mages’ heads down. Rigel, Renee, Pent, head off to the right, take cover from arrows! Murdock, defensive line for a few moments… Keep it up, everyone, this will only take a short while!” He joined the rest of his people on foot. “Pull back, George, Murdock!” He turned to Pent. “I don’t want to spend too much of your energy right now, but can you knock over this tree behind Murdock?”
“Sure I can,” Pent said, getting ready to cast. But apparently Milton had heard him and had warned his troops, because they were wary of following Murdock.
And then there was a shower of arrows in their direction. Everyone ducked back behind trees and rocks. “Time to move!” Ceniro shouted, and they ran north even though the terrain was terrible in that direction. It would slow down the armour knights at least.
They reached a cliff, and he knew they were close – the castle was at the top of the cliff. Now… left or right? There was a way up in both directions. The main gate was towards the left, the postern gate towards the right, he remembered from Murdock’s map. “Everyone but the knights, head left! Murdock, take Zephiel and your knights right and then join up with us once you’ve reached the top of the cliff!”
“Aye,” Murdock said gravely and cantered off. Ceniro led the rest up the western slope.
The main gate of the castle was relatively undefended; a few archers, but it looked like Milton had put most of his defenders on the postern gate on the other side of the castle. Ha! He had made his mistake, expecting Ceniro to do what he normally did. They had a few seconds to break through before reinforcements showed up. And before their pursuers caught up to them.
Without breaking the gate, if possible… He couldn’t call in Fiora and Florina, he wasn’t sure where they were, and the archers made that rather dangerous anyway. “We need something… crazy.” He turned and looked critically at Pent and Rigel.
Rigel looked nervous. “What are you looking at me for?”
“We’re going to do something that no one’s tried before. Ready?”
“No.”
“Come now,” Pent said, with an encouraging pat on her shoulder. “Your skills are up to whatever he has in mind. Be confident!”
“I need you to bring me that tree over there,” Ceniro said, pointing back down into the valley. Murdock came up, an arrow sticking out of his pauldron, and Ceniro acknowledged him with a nod.
Rigel’s pale blue eyes widened incredulously. “Why yes, you are crazy. That’s so far!”
“I’ll help you,” Pent said, folding his hands and closing his eyes.
“Murdock, shield her from arrows,” Ceniro ordered, and the knight moved closer, holding out his shield over her head. The archers were almost in position…
She closed her eyes too, reaching out with one hand and the other holding Luna, a black sphere forming in front of her and black tendrils shooting out of it, wrapping around the dead tree trunk, pulling, sucking it into the void… Zephiel and Renee gave quiet exclamations of astonishment.
“That’s good!” Ceniro cried, and she stopped and staggered back, the void vanished, and the tree trunk wobbled and fell against the wall, at enough of an angle they could climb up. An arrow bounced off Murdock’s shield as he moved with her. “Renee, get up there! George, covering fire! Rigel, Pent…”
“I’m fine,” Pent said. “I’ll give covering fire as well.”
“I need a moment,” Rigel said, panting and putting her head down. “Thanks for the assist, Lord Pent.”
The archers were already trying to shift the tree off the wall, but Renee was already at the top, forcing them back with her spear. There was a noise of people behind them, but when he turned, it was only Erk’s group… without Erk. “Where’s Erk?” They could use him.
“We ran into Kent’s group,” Caddie said. “They were in a sticky spot, so he stayed to help.”
“All right,” Ceniro said. “Were they all there?”
“All still alive and accounted for,” Caddie reported with a small smile. “That’s quite the set-up you’ve got here!”
“You’re next up the tree, then,” Ceniro said. “Hurry, hurry! Renee’s got a foothold! Yens, after him! We need to get the gate open for the knights before Milton’s forces pin us here! Now Pent, then George!” And finally himself, climbing with one hand and his sword in the other.
Renee, Caddie, and Yens were pressing on to the gatehouse, forcing the lightly-armoured archers back, preventing them from firing off too many arrows. George was struck in the side with one, but Pent was beside him while Rigel held off the archers on the other side, her void simply absorbing their arrows. They were all in, so he shoved with all his strength and rolled the tree away from the wall, preventing others from getting in that way.
The rest of Milton’s soldiers, more heavily armed and armoured knights and axemen, were rushing towards them, and wyverns were coming back from the forest. The gate slowly rumbled open and Murdock’s knights hurried in. “Knights, take that wall, defend against those soldiers! Wil, there’re more mages in this group! Renee, after you’ve secured the castle, the defense of the gate is yours. Take the other gate as quick as you can; deny the rest of his army.” He hoped Lyn and Kent’s groups showed up soon, or had the sense not to approach the castle while enemy forces were congregating so heavily on it. Kent was sensible; he’d probably act as a decoy for as many enemies as possible. Lyn… Lyn he was not so sure what she would do. “Pent, Murdock, George, Yens, with me!”
“I’m coming too!” Zephiel cried, also dismounting and drawing his sword.
Ceniro stared hard at him. Did he dare risk… Whatever. “All right, but don’t get too close to Milton.” He could help take out his inevitable guards.
He turned and dashed towards the great hall, Pent close on his heels. Did they have enough to face him? He didn’t want to take more fighters away from defense of the gate… This would have to be Murdock and Pent’s fight, with Yens, George, Zephiel, and Ceniro defending them against guards. In the space of the great hall, where Milton surely was, there wouldn’t be so many guards that they were overwhelmed, or there’d be no space left for actual fighting. He just hoped there weren’t too many mages besides Milton’s druid friend.
At his gesture, Murdock was first into the hall… and was swept aside by a wave of energy, crashing into the wall with a clatter of heavy armour and slumping to the floor. Yens was taken with him.
“Murdock!” Zephiel cried. Ceniro had just opened his mouth to react, give orders, anything, and another wave of energy blasted the rest of them, knocking all four of them off their feet.
Ceniro gritted his teeth as he picked himself up and gave a hand to Pent. Eckesachs’ power was not as lethal as Maltet’s, it seemed, but it was going to make any fight very difficult. “Murdock, shield up! Zephiel, stay back! Pent, George, support Murdock!”
“And you’re going to hang back as usual,” Milton said, standing with arms akimbo at the top of the dias, Legendary sword in one hand, and the farseer in the other. There were soldiers with lances all around him, but they made no move forward. Milton wanted to fight them himself, it seemed. And the druid was nowhere to be seen. “Letting all the real warriors take all the risks for you.” He lunged forward, dodging Pent’s Thunder and Murdock’s lance, and Zephiel cried out as Murdock was stabbed in the side and slumped to the floor.
Ceniro hissed through his teeth. Without Murdock… This was reminding him agonizingly of training battles. He didn’t think Murdock was dead, not yet, but could Pent get to him in time – no, Pent couldn’t get to him at all. Going through Milton was suicide. Yens wasn’t on his level, he couldn’t shield Pent…
All this went through his mind in half a blink. “Pent, Elfire wall. George-” The fire went up, the arrows flew, but Milton batted them away like they were nothing, the giant sword sparking and flashing with light. It looked terrifyingly powerful, and Ceniro found himself taking a step back without thinking about it. No, he told himself. He couldn’t show the least sign of retreating. He could see Desmond, Hellene, Guinevere, and another woman who must be Guinevere’s mother, bound in ropes at the back of the hall, watched by other soldiers. If he left even for a moment, Milton would kill them all.
Probably. Somehow, he couldn’t actually see Milton killing Guinevere.
And now Milton was upon Pent and George, and with one swing, they were both flung into the wall. Pent had begun to dodge back before the stroke fell, but blood was already soaking into the front of his tunic from a deep slash as he hit the wall. George was a little further back, but his head struck the wall and he lay motionless.
Milton didn’t even look at Ceniro, glancing instead at the farseer. “Westvale, regroup your wyverns and send them to the castle. Renee only has one archer and a shaman. Rovenna, any sign of that Sacaean?”
Ceniro couldn’t hear the answer, and Milton’s face didn’t change… which was probably a good sign. If Lyn had been spotted, Milton would have started gloating.
His hands were shaking again. His heart was pounding, deafeningly. Had he lost?
He was still standing. He still had allies standing. But could he still accomplish his goal? And Murdock was bleeding out, and Pent was bleeding out, and Yens was in front of Zephiel, but they were no threat to Milton and they all knew it.
And he was no threat to Milton either…
“Lord Milton…” he heard, and they turned to see Pent, struggling to sit up against the stone wall, gasping against his injuries even as the guards surrounded him and the others, though for whatever reason they did not approach Ceniro. “Lord Milton, don’t do this. Don’t kill them.”
“You have failed to defeat me, so you beg for your lives?” Milton raised an eyebrow. “I thought you were made of sterner stuff, Count Reglay.”
“Don’t… care about me,” Pent said. “As long as Louise and Klein… But… whatever happens to the throne of Bern… to destroy an entire family… is cruelty beyond bounds.”
“Is the cruelty of destroying one family more heavy than the cruelty of leaving the rest of Bern to rot in the hands of corrupt nobles and murdering, raping brigands?” Milton said. “Desmond must die; there are no two ways about it. While Zephiel held promise, the fact is his father would never let him rule; so if effective rule is to come quickly, he must die as well. As for Hellene, I do not know how much loyalty she has to Bern, but I am not taking chances. But Igraine and Guinevere may live.”
“Ah,” Zephiel said, and when Ceniro looked at him, he saw, unexpectedly, relief in the prince’s face. “Thank you.”
Milton snorted. “You’re a foolish idealist, Your Highness.”
“To defeat in combat is one thing,” Pent said. “But to execute these people…”
“Enough,” Milton said sharply. “They are no innocents. The only innocent one is the six-year-old.” He glanced down at the farseer. “Harrigan, the enemy cavalry are attempting to break eastward. Send a few dozen knights north along the river to cut them off.” He looked back at Pent. “But first, to do something I’ve wanted to do for a very long time.”
He turned to Ceniro and raised Eckesachs.
Ceniro wanted to scream, could feel it rising in his throat, choked off only by the contradictory fact that he couldn’t breathe.
Act, and results will follow…
He clamped his hands around his sword and dashed forward. This is insane. Ludicrous. Actual suicide.
Milton laughed. “You are no warrior. Your hands shake and there is fear in your eyes. You still think you can defeat me?”
Ceniro ducked; a blast from the blade whizzed past his head. There was only one goal in his mind, and he rushed forward with a singleminded purpose, his vision tunneling, the world flashing before him in razor-sharp detail even as it detached itself from reality.
He could do this. He had started late, he should have done this as soon as he entered, but he could-
His little steel katana swung down, Milton stepping back with a face of surprise and sudden clarity, and the farseer shattered into a thousand pieces.
Now he can’t tell his forces how to get around my frie-
Even as he recovered from his swing, Eckesachs swung down, cleaving through katana, cloth, flesh, and bone like it was nothing.
Pent’s weak cheer – he knew what destroying the farseer meant – turned into a gasp.
Ceniro stood stock still for an instant as his right arm fell to the floor in two pieces, eyes wide with shock, and then collapsed silently to his knees, clutching his shoulder with his left hand, staring at it and the blood pouring from the stump. It didn’t feel gone. It hurt, yes, but it mostly just felt warm-
And then the agony hit him. He fell to his face at Milton’s feet and shrieked and could do nothing else. He couldn’t even brace himself for the killing blow that was surely coming…
He heard quick footsteps and heard someone else scream – not in pain, but in shock and grief and fury.
Lyn.
He gasped out her name, fought against the pain, fighting just to open his tear-flooded eyes. She was in the doorway, a small, slim figure soaked in sweat, spattered in blood, hair plastered to her forehead, with blue eyes so wide he could see the whites all around, her mouth still open from her scream.
Then she moved, and he couldn’t track her as she blurred towards him, towards Milton. He heard the familiar thwip of Louise’s bow as she entered after Lyn, drawing arrow after arrow back and letting fly at the soldiers even as they tried to rush her; there was a fwoosh as some of them erupted in flame cast by Erk behind her. He could hear Klein whimpering from his harness on Louise’s chest.
But Lyn was past him on the other side, swords blazing in her hands, forcing Milton back with short shouts of exertion. Now that the farseer was destroyed, he was using two hands, retreating in a controlled fashion, defending against Lyn who was hammering him from all sides, almost flying. Ceniro had never seen her so angry before…
He should be helping Louise and Erk before the soldiers rallied and killed them… It wasn’t possible right now. The agony was coming out in moaned breaths between clenched teeth and he was in no state to speak, let alone plan and give orders. He could see his blood pooling on the floor below his arm. There seemed to be a lot of it…
He could still see Lyn once he got his head around, could see her driving Milton back. One blow from that sword and she would die… But she was fighting like he’d never seen her fight, near-perfect, hair and skirts and robe following helplessly in her wake as she rained blows down on Milton – had she just bounced off the wall? Her regular sword was broken, but she had taken the shining, glowing Mani Katti in both hands and it went through Milton’s armour like paper when she could score a hit. But Milton was also fighting magnificently, lacking Lyn’s speed and reflexes but making up for it with a solid disciplined defense. The two whirled on each other, trading blows too fast for him to see.
He couldn’t keep his eyes open, couldn’t see Lyn anymore, but he could hear, the constant clash and clang and rasp of steel on enchanted steel, the swift steps, one set heavy, one set light, the grunts and hoarse breaths and short shouts.
There was a massive CRACK and a crumbling, rumbling noise of falling masonry, Klein crying loudly, urgent shouting, and an arm under his shoulders, hauling him up and leaning on someone tall in armour, dragging him hurriedly away from the sounds of battle. He couldn’t hold back the gasp and the cry of pain that burst from him.
“Sorry,” Kent said, his voice almost lost under the commotion around them. Kent was here? Ceniro pried his eye open again, forced himself to put one foot in front of the other, to keep moving towards the doorway filled with bright light ahead of him. Other people were running towards it. There was another massive crash and Kent flinched, quickening his pace even more.
“Ly-” he began and stopped. He couldn’t distract her; a look over his shoulder showed she was still locked in combat with Milton, and the ceiling was coming down around them. Stay alive, he thought hard in her direction, and then they were through the doorway and into the courtyard.
Kent brought him all the way to the other end of the courtyard, where Renee was still coordinating the defense of the gate with the rest of his group and Murdock’s knights, before he put him down and made him sit. Ceniro hardly paid attention to the gate; he was still staring at the hall of the castle as blasts of white light shot out of it, gouging huge rents in it. It was teetering… the roof was caving in…
“Lyn!” he screamed, almost staggering to his feet again as the roof came down, but Kent held him down and Erk was there, carrying… the pieces of his arm?
“Hold still!” Erk ordered him. “Don’t move, or this won’t work!”
“Lyn!” he cried again. “Lyn, don’t be-”
They were still fighting. The roof had fallen in around them and they were still fighting. He didn’t want to know by what miracle both Lyn and Milton had survived, covered in dust and not noticably slower than before.
A blue glow lit up around him, obscuring his vision but he didn’t even look down, not even when Erk and Kent started talking to him about his arm and putting it in a sling. What did it matter? An arm didn’t matter. What mattered was that he felt well enough to stand and stand he did as soon as the sling was done, breaking free from Kent’s hasty grab and running back towards the ruins of the keep.
Milton’s armour was hanging in pieces from his shoulders, but he fought grimly on. Lyn’s face was a frozen snarl. Neither of them were shouting anymore. They were both going to fight to the death, he could see it. He didn’t want that.
There was a wyvern rider swooping in, a wyvern with an extra passenger already with her. “My lord-!”
“Get out of here, Rovenna!” Milton shouted, blocking another three of Lyn’s blows. “Go on, get clear! Go north, as far as you can!”
“My lord- I hear and obey!” The rider’s voice was full of desperate regret, but her wyvern flapped and peeled away, vanishing swiftly northward.
Milton swung sideways; Lyn didn’t even try to block it, flowing around the giant blade like the wind itself. The wave of power that shot out from it slammed into the outer wall of the castle, slicing through the stones there as if they were dry clay, but that wall didn’t fall… yet. With one final, defiant scream, she sprang over the sword, coming down from above, and the Mani Katti knocked Eckesachs from Milton’s grasp.
Milton took a step back but did not scramble for the sword, which had already transformed into a form like a sceptre. Lyn took a step back, aiming her final blow-
“Wait!” Ceniro shouted, flinging himself between them, one functional arm outstretched. “Wait. Lyn. I want to talk to him.”
He couldn’t read the emotions on either of their faces, both panting, Lyn’s face contorted in battle-rage, Milton’s already turning cold and haughty.
But if he didn’t talk to him now, he’d never know why…
“You- you!” Lyn shouted, flinging her precious sword to the rubble, its glow fading. He wasn’t sure whether she was going to kill him or throw herself at him, but he was terrified either way. Neither he nor Milton dared move.
Lyn glared at him, breathing hard, before finally giving a roar of frustration, picking up her sword, and stomping away.
Then there were soldiers, proper Bern Army soldiers in wyvern gear surrounding Milton, and he was forced to his knees and bound.
King Desmond was alive; his family was unharmed by the collapse of the castle hall. Erk and Rigel had healed Pent and Murdock’s wounds, and Renee was relieved of holding the castle gate by the reinforcements, although most of them were in the field, hunting down the remaining rebels. Milton was off in a corner, under heavy guard. People were milling about, talking all at once, trying to understand the situation and get organized.
Ceniro understood the situation well enough for his own purposes. He looked around at his friends; they were all there, every single one, although most of them were pretty beat up, sporting residual cuts and bruises and missing pieces of armour or clothing. His own arm was numb and he couldn’t move it, although it did seem to be attached properly. He wondered if he’d regain the use of it or not.
There were guards trying to arrest Pent and Louise, and George, Caddie, Yens, Andy and Frank were not okay with it, forming a half-circle around the two with their hands on their weapons. If he didn’t stop them, they’d have another battle in the courtyard. “Hold on!” he cried, hurrying towards them. “Wait, stop, they’re with me.”
“These two are known assassins and sworn enemies of Bern-!”
“I know, I know, I know,” Ceniro interrupted impatiently. “But they risked their lives to help save your monarchy just now. They’re not going to try anything. Just give me a minute with some of my people and I’ll go resolve this whole thing. In the meantime, leave them alone.”
The Bern captain drew himself up. “You cannot give me orders, mercenary-!”
“That’s an order from me, then,” Murdock said, appearing behind the captain. “Desist from harrassing these allies.”
Ceniro nodded gratefully to him. “Thank you. I’ll go talk to King Desmond about it now… if he’s not too busy.”
“I will take you to him,” Murdock said solemnly.
King Desmond was blustering more than Ceniro remembered, but he guessed that the king was probably nervous and shaken by his recent experience as a victim of an almost-successful coup. “And who by Elimine’s name are you, consorting with our enemies?”
Ceniro scraped his meagre court training together and bowed. “I am Ceniro of Santaruz, a tactician and the captain of these mercenaries. Pent and Louise are acting solely as mercenaries under my command. Prince Zephiel and General Murdock enlisted my aid to save you and defeat Milton.”
“Ah.” Desmond hesitated, frowning, unsure whether to be furious or grateful.
“My knights and I would never have been able to deliver you from Milton of Tulgren by ourselves,” Murdock said. “All our success is due to Captain Ceniro and Lady Lyn over yonder.” Ceniro immediately found that he hated the title of ‘captain’.
Desmond’s mouth curved down disapprovingly, and Ceniro wondered if he’d have to stave off incoming racism.
But then the king forced a smile onto his face. “You have our gratitude, Ceniro of Santaruz. We believe General Murdock’s words; you risked much against great odds for us, and we will reward you greatly. But still, Reglay…”
“Your Majesty,” Ceniro said, interrupting hastily – and rudely, he knew, “I could ask for no better reward than that you release my friends from their exile. I wish for nothing for myself.”
Desmond’s mouth worked a bit. “You would ask us to forgive the ones who commited such a heinous crime against us? Proven to have hired the most cold-blooded of assassins to murder our son?”
Pent spread his hands. “Whether or not that is what actually happened, does it truly matter? All that Louise and I wish is to see our homeland once more. Let us leave the past behind us and move on to a better future.”
The king stared at him and Ceniro spoke up again, putting on his best naive face. “Your Majesty, they did almost die for your sake. Pent pleaded for your life. Even were you not deceived by the evidence you found, surely that is proof that they would never do such a thing now?”
Pent glanced at him, and Ceniro could read subtle approval on his face.
Desmond pouted ferociously, but although Ceniro sensed a storm on the horizon, the king actually backed down. “Fine. Reglay, we acquit you of all past crimes in gratitude for our life. Happy?”
“My wife and I thank you with all our hearts,” Pent said, and Louise curtseyed.
“Could he have that in writing, please, Your Majesty,” Ceniro pressed him. “Signed and sealed, so that King Mordred may have no doubt of your sanction.”
There was some stifled growling, but a table and chair and parchment and pen and ink were all found, and Desmond sat to write a letter to Pent while Ceniro hovered over his shoulder. He didn’t care if Desmond took a dislike to him. All that mattered was that Pent get out of here as soon as possible.
The letter was finished, sealed in wax with the king’s signet ring, enveloped and sealed again, and handed to Pent. Desmond stood again. “Now to more important matters. Ceniro of Santaruz, you are clearly a force to be reckoned with when you command any number of men. We would ask you to join the Bern Army and make her once again the greatest in Elibe.”
“The Bern Army would be unstoppable with Ceniro in charge,” Pent said, smiling. “Therefore, to maintain balance in the world, I must offer a counter-offer on behalf of my king – join Etruria’s army, half the Generals already hold you in high esteem.”
“I will not withdraw my letter, Reglay, but do not drive me to war-!”
“If we go to war over Ceniro, he’ll just go to Sacae or Ilia and ignore both of us, and rightly so,” Pent said. “But I know you are truly serious about recruiting him, so know that Etruria is also truly serious about preventing that.” The two men glared at each other, Pent with a thin smirk, the tension between them quickly rising like snapping wires.
Ceniro huffed. “All right, both of you. I’m a mercenary captain – that means I’m an independent contractor. If I don’t want to work for anyone, I don’t have to – not even by royal decree, since I’m not a Bern citizen. Or an Etrurian citizen. I’m happy where I am, and I don’t want anything larger.” He looked at Desmond. “However, my group would be happy to work for you on a job-by-job basis.”
Desmond’s face was pinched from disappointment, and Ceniro actually felt kind of bad, but he really didn’t want to work for him. And he definitely didn’t want war to break out, especially over him. What a ridiculous idea. “How dare… If that is the best you can do…”
“I thank you for your understanding, Your Majesty,” Ceniro said, bowing again. “There is also the matter of Eckesachs. Pent and I are on a mission to seal away the Legendary Weapons before they can be misused.” He gestured at the ruins of the castle behind him. “Might we have your permission to do the same for Eckesachs?”
“Our royal sceptre,” Desmond began angrily, and then paused, thinking. “It would not be well for the royal sceptre to be the tool of usurpers. Yes, that we will agree to gladly.”
“Perhaps a vault beneath this castle will be suitable?” Pent suggested. “I will get started immediately.”
“We will observe,” Desmond said regally, and gestured for the weapon to be brought over.
Pent and Desmond were gone a while, and Ceniro went to see how his people were doing.
Lyn wasn’t looking at him as he walked over to her. “I’m glad you came,” he said softly. “You and Louise. I was a bit worried that you wouldn’t make it.”
“You idiot!” she cried, turning to him with fire in her beautiful blue eyes. “Even if your entire plan always hinges on me and Pent and Florina, that doesn’t mean you can just go and die because you think you’re expendable or something!”
He looked down. “I had to destroy the farseer. Cut him off from his allies, get them off your backs.”
“And then after I did all that fighting for you, I got my sword cut in half, kept fighting, avoided getting sliced in half by Legendary power or crushed by an entire freakin’ falling castle, defeat your stupid arch-nemesis, and then you just jump in and stop the fight because you want to talk to the bastard!”
Lyn had never used so many expressive words in one breath before, and he winced. “I know. You were all keyed up and then I interrupted it. But… it…”
She sighed and lifted her head to look him in the eyes, still glaring tiredly, but with less heat now. “It’s important to you. You have history with him. It’s not like… me and Lundgren. Or… or Nino and Sonia. I get it. It’s just frustrating.”
“I… yeah. But thank you. I really… thank you.”
“So go talk to him!” she snapped, the ghost of a smirk crossing her face. “The things I do for you, and then you don’t even follow through!”
He snorted a laugh. “Right. I’ll do that, after I make sure everyone else is okay. Thanks.”
He went next to Prince Zephiel, who stared at him in awe when he saw him coming. “You’re unharmed, I hope?”
“Completely fine,” Zephiel said, and swallowed. “That was… How did we all survive that?”
“I don’t know if I can answer that,” Ceniro said. “Equal amounts luck and skill.”
“You and Lady Lyn can truly accomplish the impossible,” Zephiel said, looking again at the ruined castle. “Together, I do not believe there is a foe in this world who can stand against you.”
“She’s the strongest person I know,” Ceniro said, looking over at her where she was now talking with Louise, who had soothed Klein to watchful quiet at last. “But even she couldn’t do it alone. We need our friends. And our allies, like you.”
Zephiel smiled and, to his surprise, blushed. “I have a long way to go before I can be anywhere near as strong as either of you.”
“Well…” Ceniro looked up at those youthful brown eyes. Wondered whether Zephiel had stopped growing yet. “You’re already very strong, both in mind and body. Hold on to that strength, and your compassionate heart. And… if you ever need me or my people for anything, send us word! We won’t fight wars for you, as you probably noticed me saying to your father, but smaller jobs, we don’t mind. Even if you just need someone to talk to.” He didn’t want to say too much about how much he knew about Zephiel’s family life… and it was probably worse than he had seen. But any encouragement he could give…
“To talk to…” Zephiel looked confused. “I don’t know how well Bern would look upon her Crown Prince fraternizing with mercenaries.”
“Ah, right,” Ceniro said agreeably. “I understand. We do look a bit disreputable. Maybe if we got a uniform for official purposes… But I don’t like uniforms…” He wanted to suggest hanging out with Eliwood or Hector, to have some friends on his own level who weren’t Murdock, but didn’t want to be seen as nosy either. But the prince must be so lonely…
Zephiel couldn’t help laughing. “But I thank you for your concern. I do hope to see you again someday.”
“Me, too,” Ceniro said. “In any case, good luck, and we’ll be thinking of you.”
Zephiel bowed and Ceniro returned it. “Thank you, Sir Ceniro. Good fortunes always be with you on your journeys. And… thank you for letting me fight.” He looked down and behind Ceniro, and bowed again. “Hello, Guinevere!”
Ceniro turned and saw the little girl whom he’d often wondered about, a soldier hovering behind her. She gave Zephiel a joyful smile and a wave, but turned to him first.
“You are the captain of the friendly people?” she said. “My mama says you saved us. I wanted to thank you, as a princess should.” She held out her hand and Ceniro knelt before her, holding out his own hand to receive whatever it was she was giving him.
It was a hairclip, made of gold with a cluster of sapphires in the shape of flowers on one side. “Thank you, Your Highness,” he said solemnly. “I will treasure it always.”
“That is good,” she said regally, and then threw herself at her brother. “Brother! You came to save me!”
Zephiel picked Guinevere up and she put her arms about his neck. “Of course I did. I’d do anything for you!”
“Teehee! You’re such a kind brother!” She whispered: “I wish I got to see you more but I don’t want to make Daddy sad. But someday it won’t make him sad and we can visit all the time!”
“Yes, that is true,” Zephiel said, smiling, though with a slight hesitation. “But in the meantime, I’m glad you’re being a good girl.” He gave her a kiss on the cheek and put her down again. “Say hello to your mama for me, all right?”
“Yes, Brother!” She sparkled and ran off, her bodyguard trailing after her.
Then everyone else came up at once and surrounded him. “We survived,” Fiora said, still sounding stunned, holding tightly to Kent’s hand.
“We did,” he said.
“Although… I’m sorry about your poor arm…” she said.
He tried to shrug and found it felt exceptionally odd, having all that dead weight on one side. “It was worth it to stop Milton. He couldn’t co-ordinate his forces against you.”
“So the farseer…” said Kent.
“Is destroyed, and buried under that wreckage,” Ceniro said. “It’s fine. It’s too powerful. This situation can’t happen again.”
“Speaking of which…” Erk started poking the sling again. “I really hope I did this right… You really can’t feel anything in it right now?”
“Erk!” Ceniro cried. “I owe you my life and my arm. Whether I can feel with it right now doesn’t matter. Thank you.” He bowed very low to the mage, who turned red.
“It’s… Thank me when you recover full use of it,” Erk said doubtfully. “I’m not a cleric or a troubadour. But I guess putting up with Serra was good for something after all.”
Ceniro laughed. “I’m very happy that you came in time. I know it’s not really your expertise, but even if I don’t recover use of my arm, at least I have it.” He turned around. “Where’s Wil?”
“Right here,” Wil called from near the wall, where Rigel and Florina were fussing over him and Renee was fussing over Rigel. “I’m feeling much better, too. I’ll be on my feet in a minute.”
“Good,” Ceniro said. “That scream was the most horrifying thing I’ve heard in my life. I swear my heart stopped for seconds together.”
Wil grinned sheepishly. “Sorry. I’m not the number-one dodger in the group, and I thought I could take down one more wyvern.”
“Target fixation,” Rigel said in her ‘creepy’ voice. “The death of many an unwary soldier.”
“Uh-huh,” Wil said doubtfully, side-eyeing her even as Rigel finished with her ministrations and Florina helped him up, hugging him tightly when he made it to standing. He hugged her back with closed eyes and an achingly relieved face.
Renee giggled. “And I’m never going to forget my lovely’s awe-inspiring display of power. Well done!”
“Um, thanks,” Rigel said awkwardly. Renee huffed fondly, took both Rigel’s hands in hers, and kissed her. Rigel squeaked and turned bright red. “E-everyone’s watching!”
“So?” Renee said.
George chuckled. “Best wishes to both of you, then.”
“And you must be more than ready to go home,” Ceniro said. “Your wives have probably forgotten what you look like!”
“Don’t even joke about that,” Frank said, with a pained look.
“Or my kids!” Yens cried. “Julian, Maya, little Helen… They probably call the dog ‘daddy’ by this point!”
Caddie chuckled. “It’s hard to believe that this journey is almost over. It’s been what, almost two years?”
“Not quite two years,” Louise said. “Klein is only thirteen months old, remember?” Klein yawned and shifted sleepily in his harness, and she kissed the top of his blond head.
“Just call it a year,” Andy muttered to himself.
Ceniro smiled. “We’ll miss all of you. But we’ll visit once in a while. Who knows, maybe Pent will need help finding some new interesting piece of junk to look at.”
“It’s not junk,” Erk said reflexively, and the others laughed.
“Visit soon! Visit often! And let me know how your sister’s doing!” Andy cried, giving him a fist-bump.
Ceniro shook his head. “Ask her yourself. You write her more than I do.” And Andy blushed.
“Ah, let’s tease the youngsters, eh, Caddie?” George said, grinning.
“Right you are, George,” Caddie replied, also grinning.
But then Pent and Desmond were back, and Pent bowed to the king before walking quickly over to the group. “Ah, you’re all here. Excellent.”
“And you’re done?” Ceniro asked.
“All done. Every weapon has been safely sealed. With luck, the investigations of the shaman of Elibe will come to nothing, and we won’t have any more wars on our hands for a while. At least not ones that threaten the whole continent.”
“Yes,” Ceniro said. “Pent… I’m sorry about the farseer. I don’t feel I had a choice, but I know how much work you put into it…”
Pent shook his head. “You were right to destroy it. I think you’re right about it being too dangerous. …Next time I just have to make it so that only you can use it!”
Ceniro laughed and looked down. “You probably shouldn’t make any more. Other people will catch on anyway, even if yours is the best. Imagine Nergal with a farseer.”
Pent shuddered. “As you like.”
“Also, you should leave as soon as possible,” Ceniro said firmly. “Without us, even.”
“As soon as possible?” George said, and took Andy and Frank aside to check their saddlebags.
“I would have thought you would escort us home,” Pent said quietly to Ceniro, as they walked towards the gate.
“You can make it on your own from here, right?” Ceniro said. “There’s something else I want to do and I don’t want you involved.”
Pent quirked a silver eyebrow. “I’ll want to hear all about it later.”
“Much later,” Ceniro said. “In a few months.” He stopped and looked up at the taller man. “But I’m very happy for you. You can go home, at long last, and live in peace and quiet for once.”
“Yes, peace and quiet and a long stretch in a proper bed might be nice,” Pent said, smiling. “But never think that I haven’t – we all haven’t – enjoyed our time traveling with you. It wasn’t easy, but it was satisfying, and I, at least, had Louise by my side always. But I know my loyal guards will be dying to see their families.”
“Yes, they are, and I do feel bad that they’ve had to stay away so long.”
“They could have gone home at any time, and they knew it,” Pent reminded him, “but they chose to stay and help, because this journey has meant something to them, too. Besides, that’s what letters are for!”
“Right, letters. I should send some, too.” Ceniro paused, already thinking of something else. “I was wondering, did E- did our friends ever do anything like that while they were fighting the fire dragon? I wasn’t there personally, but I didn’t see that level of destructive power…”
“I don’t think they wanted to unleash that level of destruction on the Dragon’s Gate,” Pent said. “To destroy the entire structure with all their friends and allies inside, that would be too terrible for them to think about. So the weapons obeyed their unconscious wishes and restrained their power. But, I think, in their last blows against the beast, yes, I saw something like that. Especially our friend with the sword, when he leapt on the dragon to deliver the killing blow…”
“Wish I could have seen it,” Ceniro said. “Ah well, our task is finally done. What will you be doing now?”
“Probably continuing Athos’s research,” Pent said. “If King Mordred reinstates me as Mage General, I’m going to refuse and resign. Hike out to Nabata and carry as much as I can home… You up for a journey sometime next year?”
“Next year? Sounds good.”
“And of course taking care of Louise and Klein. I won’t be shoving magic down his throat, but if he does show any interest in it… But he’ll at least need a good, well-rounded education when he gets older. I need to commission someone to paint him while he’s still tiny and chubby… And Louise needs a good bout of pampering, she’s worked so hard to keep both me and him safe.”
“That she has,” Ceniro said, smiling. “But you’ve worked hard to keep her safe, too. All of us safe. So, next year? I’m sure we’ll be around somewhere.”
“Right,” Pent said, looking around. “Captain George!”
“Sir!”
“We all ready to go? Has everyone said their goodbyes? Oh, I’ll just be a minute, I’d like to say something at least to Lyn and Fiora and Rigel.”
“We’re ready, sir,” George said, chuckling. “Take care, Ceniro. We’ll miss you!”
“Thanks, and I you.”
Pent wasn’t long in bidding farewell to his former companions, and took Louise’s hand in the gate. “Well, we’re off. Stay well, all of you. Let’s go, Louise! Home awaits!”
“I’ll follow wherever you lead, Lord Pent!”
That left only one more issue, one that he’d have to deal with carefully. He watched Pent and Louise’s group leave for as long as he dared, checked the setting sun, checked the wyverns in the field. He had time. And if he could make more time…
He walked towards Milton, and as he approached, the guards gave him some space. Milton gave no sign of acknowledgement as Ceniro came to a stop in front of where he sat on a small pile of rubble. He felt a little odd to be looking down on Milton instead of craning his neck like he usually did.
Best to just be direct, especially if he was pretending to ignore him. “So… why did you hate me so much?” Ceniro asked. “Why was it so important that you give everything you had to defeat me?”
Milton raised a grim face from staring at his bound hands. “Is it not obvious?”
Ceniro shrugged. “Besides the whole class thing, no. It wasn’t just because I’m the son of a carpenter, is it?”
Milton returned his gaze to the paving stones. “Of course it is.” Ceniro waited. “All my life, my brothers and I have been expected to excel. My elder brother is destined to inherit my father’s estate. My younger brother is already a bishop in the Church of Saint Elimine. And I… My province was the art of making war, and I studied under the finest teachers Elibe had to offer… and this low-born buffoon from Santaruz shows up and outstrips me in technical skill without even trying.” He paused, then ground out with a snarl, “I would have been the first Dragon General, before even General Murdock, before General Vaida, before she fell from grace, if not for you placing me at second-best!”
“Ah,” Ceniro said. “So even though no one in Bern would know anything about me, I made it impossible for you to attain your goals. So that’s why you stayed an extra year when I started getting good.” He nodded slowly. “…So then you turned to a coup, instead, but you couldn’t let go of your focus on me once you knew I was in the area.”
“And there you go with the slow-witted act again,” Milton muttered to himself, but the fire seemed gone out of him now.
“Why didn’t you attack me the day before, when you stole my farseer?”
“I would have taken far too many losses fighting you in the open. Even if I defeated you, I still needed my army to defend against the Bern army afterwards. As it was, I believe I took far fewer losses, although partly that was because you never managed to get stuck in my troops.”
“They weren’t in the wrong place, I think,” Ceniro said. “But my people are the best of the best.”
“Do not mock me,” Milton said coldly.
“Sorry,” Ceniro said. “I wasn’t, honest.” He was just doing his normal post-battle analysis. “Okay, so where were Rovenna and Vellith? They could have turned the tide for you. They’re no ordinary fighters, especially Rovenna. Did you train her?”
“A little. They were searching for your Sacaean woman. It would have been far different if they’d found her, even if they weren’t able to defeat her.”
“Perhaps,” Ceniro said, smiling. “Even if I was dead, my plan would still be in motion. But good call. She’s my most dangerous unit.”
“I said do not mock me!”
Ceniro was quiet. He really wasn’t mocking Milton. He was trying to show that he’d matured since his awkward, angsty teenage years.
Abruptly, Milton turned to him. “All right, then, question for you, since you’re in a civil mood. How do you do what you do? What makes you so good?”
Ceniro looked out over the valley they had come from, the light tinged with rosy flame from the setting sun. “Well… The more I learn, the less I’m certain of the answer to that. I thought it would be the other way around, but…” He shrugged and smiled and looked at Milton again. “I know my people. I know landscape intimately. I can sense where my opponent is weak, and what pressure I need to apply until their formation breaks.”
“I know that as well. But you-”
“Or maybe I’m just lucky,” Ceniro said, tilting his head back and glancing at the sky as it was turning violet. “I’m lucky in many other ways. I have a good life. I have good friends around me. I’m in love with an amazing woman who loves me back. I get to go wherever I want, see whatever I want, and maybe I have to put up with a little hardship on the way, but I’m enjoying my life, truly. I think people make things too complicated, worrying about power. In a hundred years, who’s going to care what I did with my time anyway?” He glanced at Milton. “My life’s more satisfying. You should try it. Why don’t you come with me?”
Milton snorted, glancing around at the dozen guards on him alone. “If I weren’t going to be executed the instant Desmond has a free moment, that offer would… no, it still wouldn’t make sense. You’ve hated me as I hated you.”
“Not anymore,” Ceniro said. “I’ve grown up since then. Like you said I should, but not because you said I should – because I couldn’t do anything else and have a good life. I’ll never like you, and if I never saw you again I would be fine with that, but no, I don’t hate you.”
Milton glared at him, but there was a deep pain behind the anger in that gaze. “I tried to kill you.”
“Multiple times, including today,” Ceniro said cheerfully. “And it’s much more interesting to ignore that and watch you realize that I’m your equal in every way besides parentage, than sit like a lump and be mad at you. That’s a waste of energy.”
“You can ignore that someone tried to kill you?”
Ceniro paused. “Well, no. No, I can’t. And I still don’t understand why you wanted to. But I know you pretty well, all things considered, and I think it would be a waste of someone of your skill to kill you or let you rot in a dungeon.”
“I don’t think Desmond will agree with you.”
“That’s not your concern,” Ceniro said, turning away. “Excuse me.”
He went first to his group, speaking quietly to them and organizing them near the gate, ready to go, and then went over to find Desmond again. “Your Majesty, I have another thing to ask of you, if you would listen.”
“What is it, Ceniro of Santaruz?” Desmond said, haughty, cautious, but not outright hostile. Yet.
“Give me Milton of Tulgren.”
“Absolutely not!” Desmond burst out, enraged. “You go too far, sir!”
“You will never see him again,” Ceniro said. “It would only be a waste to kill someone who very nearly defeated me. We’ll keep an eye on him, I promise you.”
“No! You may not have this traitor, this rebel, this scum! He will be tortured, hanged, drawn, and quartered at dawn! Milton of Tulgren is my prisoner, and you have already had your boon regarding Reglay!”
Even Hellene was looking oddly at Ceniro. He shrugged. It had been worth a short.
He turned and walked towards the gate, then stopped when he was almost there and turned back and raised his voice. “Your Majesty… I was only asking to be polite. There is really nothing you can do to stop me.” And that was what made him giddy, delirious even, what threatened to send him into hysterical, convulsive giggles, what was already stretching his face in a cocky grin. “My people are tired, yes, but your forces are all out in the field. And so I apologize, but you’ll have to do without your revenge for today.” He whistled, and things moved.
“Murdock!” Desmond roared, but Murdock was slow to move, stunned by shock and perhaps unwilling to fight the people he had been allies with so recently.
Down swooped Fiora, yanked Milton onto her pegasus, and she was away over the walls.
Ceniro couldn’t help calling a cocky “Bye!” as he ran out the gate after his friends.