Fire Emblem Fan Fiction ❯ Fire Emblem Tellius Saga: Book 1 ❯ CHAPTER 15: WAR ( Chapter 15 )

[ Y - Young Adult: Not suitable for readers under 16 ]

The moon had sunk low to the horizon, but it was still the dead of night when the mercenaries spilled into the yard. Soren’s vision adjusted to the moonlight, and he was grateful for the waning gibbous. He quickly assessed the meager fortifications: the main gate was barred with a single board, and the eastern and western gates were merely latched. The fourth and final entrance was the back door leading to the kitchen. Soren hoped it was locked as well, although that wouldn’t mean much in a couple minutes.  

Shinon lobbed several bushels of arrows onto the watchtower and then climbed up himself, taking his position overlooking the wall. The soldiers on the other side were still quiet, and Shinon stayed low. Turning to the western entrance, which was just a pair of half-gates leading to the horses’ paddock, Soren could make out the gleam of the soldiers’ armor on the far end of the field.

Mist and Rolf helped Titania and Oscar saddle their horses, and as soon as they were done, Greil ushered them back into the fort. “Mist, Rolf, stay hidden. I’ll go hold the rear entrance. Ike, you’re in command here. Don’t let the enemy take the fort!”

If they were truly surrounded, a significant force would soon be closing in on the kitchen door. Holding the enemy there wouldn’t be easy, but Soren knew Greil was equal to the task. 

“Got it!” Ike saluted. “Be careful, Fa- Commander.”

Greil gave a bark of laughter. “I’ll give it a shot!” With that, he and his giant axe disappeared into the candle-cast shadows of the main hall. In the gloom, Soren saw Mist and Rolf glancing from Greil to their brothers, their faces pinched in worry. Then the door fell closed, and they were lost from view.

Ike turned to the others with his shoulders pressed back and his hand grasped tightly around the hilt of his sword. The mercenaries stared expectantly at him—even Shinon, who was glaring down from his perch.

“Titania, Oscar, you two take the paddock gate. Gatrie, you’re with me at the front. Shinon, stay up there and support the two gates however you can. Boyd, you’re on the eastern gate. Soren, watch his back but stay mobile. Rhys, stay out of range and rotate between the three, got it? Alright then, everybody, move!”

Soren was impressed with the efficiency and authority with which Ike was able to give orders, and no one questioned them. Titania and Oscar threw a couple hay bales and a barrel of grain in front of the paddock gate to strengthen it and then mounted their steeds behind it. Boyd took a poker from the spent fire pit and wedged it against the eastern gate (which wasn’t much more than a door) before drawing his axe. Soren stood behind him. From his vantage point, he could see that Ike and Gatrie had done something similar with a bit of leftover wood from when they’d built the watchtower. But Soren new there would be no holding back the enemy soldiers; these fortifications would hardly slow them down.

A minute later, the Daeins finally seemed to understand that the activity they were observing within the walls was not the mercenaries preparing to bring the princess out. With no reason to wait any longer, they attacked on all sides at once.

Soren heard the Daein crier shout the order to advance. This was followed by the tromp of feet heavy on packed earth and the clanking of armor. The door in front of Boyd shook under the force of their first strike.

The old boards gave out after the second strike, but the Daeins blasted the rest of the splinters away with a third for good measure. Then they dropped the battering ram where they stood and reached for their swords. Boyd was already on the first two before their hands could touch their belts.

Soren prepared carefully annunciated incantations, and whenever Boyd left an opening, he released the winds into the soldiers awaiting their turn to fight. The foolish soldiers had left the battering ram as a tripping hazard, and that worked in Soren and Boyd’s favor. However, that didn’t mean defending the entrance was easy, especially when the Daeins finally got their act together, cleared the path of obstructions, and set up a trio of archers a dozen yards back. Soren and Boyd took cover on either side of the door, narrowly avoiding the first volley.

Soren had never fought trained soldiers until yesterday. Now he was resisting a siege by army regulars, and he tried to analyze their behavior. It didn’t take long to realize they were actually bumbling idiots who could be their own worst enemy until a new order came through. Then they adjusted their tactics and worked in unison. This made them predictable, at least until the next order came from whatever phalanx commander was watching from the tree line.

Whenever he could, Soren cast his attention to the other two gates, where the battle raged more fervently. The front gate was a mess of splinters, and the paddock gate was trampled to almost nothing. Shinon must have rigged some flaming arrows, because little fires spotted the ground and the haybales were billowing smoke. 

Titania, Oscar, and their steeds worked in unison, moving in and out of the gate to keep the soldiers from making any progress into the yard. Meanwhile, Ike and Gatrie stood their ground, refusing to give the soldiers an inch. From the relative safety of the scaffolding, Shinon rained down a seemingly infinite number of arrows, thinning the ranks before they reached Ike’s or Titania’s defenses.

Rhys was busy running back and forth, and on occasion a yelp from Boyd would draw him to the eastern gate. On the other hand, there were times Boyd was hollering in victory, and Soren judged he could leave him a moment to help the others. The soldiers came in waves, and at the tail-end of a wave, Soren would move to the front gate. Here he could relieve some of the pressure with wind magic (which had far better range than Ike’s sword or Gatrie’s lance.)

The mercenaries repelled the soldiers for over an hour, but still they refused to retreat or parlay. The eastern sky had begun to brighten, and Soren wondered how much strength he had left before passing out or accidentally stepping right into a spear. Then, finally, the Daein commander bellowed: “Soldiers! Retreat! We fall back for now!”

“Let them go!” Ike ordered the other mercenaries. He kept his sword up, but his stance was defensive not offensive. For a few awkward moments, the defeated soldiers collected their injured and limped back into the trees.

Panting hard, Soren closed his tome with trembling fingers. He tasted blood and salt in his mouth and realized a wound next to his eye was dripping down to his lips. Acknowledging this opened his mind to all the aches and pains he felt from head to toe, and he leaned against the wall for support as the sensation washed over him. The mercenaries had survived this siege, but Soren had a bad feeling this was only the beginning.

 

After a few minutes of quiet, Ike said, “Oscar, Soren, do a sweep of the woods. I want to know they’re really gone. Titania, report to the Commander. Gatrie, Boyd, help me barricade the entrances again. Rhys, Shinon, you’re on watch.”

Oscar walked his mare slowly by Soren’s side. They each held a torch aloft and remained silent as they examined the trodden dirt and broken branches. The sounds of insects and birds had returned to the forest, and the road leading north was dusty with footprints. When he was satisfied the Daeins had truly retreated, Soren suggested they head back, and Oscar agreed.

As they walked, Soren wondered when the survivors would unite with reinforcements. It was hard to gauge how far the Daein Army may have spread, but if Ashnard was set on conquering Crimea in one fell swoop, eliminating the heir to the throne was surely a priority. The mercenaries wouldn’t be able to defend their base a second time. They needed to leave as soon as possible.

Back at the base, Soren found stacks of furniture, broken wood, boxes, and barrels piled in front of the entrances, but it was easy to navigate around these barricades and join the others. Everyone except Greil and the princess was waiting in the bailey.

“We’ve cleared the surrounding area of Daein troops,” Soren reported to Ike and Titania. 

Ike shook his head as if bewildered. “There’s no question about it. We’re enemies of the Daein kingdom now, aren’t we?”

Titania seemed about to reply when Greil strode into the yard. “We’ve no time for rest!” he barked, as if he’d found them lazing about. “Everyone, pack your things now. We leave at once, before the enemy brings reinforcements!” Everyone jumped as if scolded.

“Understood.” Oscar saluted and grabbed his brother by the arm. “Boyd! Come with me.”

Boyd pulled out of his grasp. “I’m right behind you, brother!” he crowed, and they brushed past Greil into the keep.

Mist pulled on Rolf in much the same way. “Ah! We’ve got to hurry, too! Come on, Rolf. We’ve got to pack as much food and supplies as we can!”

“Uh, whatever you say! Let’s go, Mist!” Rolf saluted cheerfully, and they skipped after Oscar and Boyd

“Titania!” Greil turned to her. “Take Shinon and Gatrie and make sure we have a secure road from here to the great forest. We’ll make our way to Gallia through the sea of trees.”

“On my way, sir!”

“Rhys,” he turned to the healer, who looked as pale and feverish as he usually did after a battle. “You stay with me. I want you to help me pull some essential documents from the library. Everything else we burn.”

“Y-yes, sir!” Rhys replied, obviously surprised by the request.

“Ike!” Greil jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “You’re in charge of the princess.”

Ike didn’t seem burdened by this task. “Alright!” he chirped, and with a hasty salute, he jogged into the keep.

Greil and Rhys were only a couple steps behind him and soon disappeared. While Titania and the others planned the scouting mission, Soren realized he was the only one without a task. After a moment’s deliberation, he decided he should pack too.

When he reached his room, however, he remembered that he’d left most of his extra clothes and supplies back with the Mercenaries of Fayre. All he had now was his wind tome, the stolen maps and spells he’d dumped out of his satchel, and not much more than the clothes and shoes he was wearing. The realization was jarring, and the events of the past few days suddenly played through his mind at incredible speed.

I was at the library, he thought numbly, Now I’m at war. Recalling the purpose of his scholarly visit, his eyes were drawn to the scratches behind the door. He’d diligently recorded his height for years, and now those marks would remain as proof that he’d once been here. Out of curiosity, he measured himself against them now. As expected, he hadn’t grown in the time he’d been studying with the Mercenaries of Fayre. Shaking his head, he chastised himself for the foolishness of worrying about such things at a time like this.

Finding an old bag, he determined to pack what little he had. After all, he didn’t need much, and being lighter was better on the run. 

 

After hastily packing their own precious possessions, Titania, Shinon, and Gatrie departed on foot to scout their route. Titania’s stallion was left with Oscar’s mare to be laden with the heaviest (and least-important) supplies. These were the things that would be dumped the moment they were attacked.

In addition to the horses’ saddlebags, each of the mercenaries hoisted a heavy backpack containing their own belongings and a portion of the food and basic supplies Mist and Rolf had packed. Rhys bent under the weight of his bag, although it was on the smaller side. He also had a Heal staff strapped to his back, which he kept managing to swing into people when he turned suddenly. He wielded another two staves in his hands, which he used as walking sticks.

He wasn’t the only one so encumbered. Everyone made sure to pack or strap on their secondary weapons. They all knew they might never return to the base, and, even if they did, they would certainly need them before that time. Soren was glad his tome, although rather large and heavy for a book, was relatively small and light compared to most weapons.

When they assembled in the yard, Soren saw the princess for the first time since she’d awakened. She must have borrowed a pair of boots, which she wore under her silk dress, and over her shoulders was clasped an oilskin cloak with a hood to protect her from the rain (and perhaps hide her royal face). She wore a backpack like the rest of the mercenaries and gripped the straps with white knuckles, as if afraid the bag would jump off if she let go.

“We move out now,” Greil announced when Boyd came running into the yard—the last to arrive. There was no ceremony or farewell. He merely walked out of the front gate, ignoring the boxes Ike had stacked into an unnecessary barricade and the row of dead soldiers whose eyes Mist had found the time to close.

 

They travelled as swiftly as possible, avoiding towns, and cutting cross-country when necessary. They remained subdued, even when they reunited with Titania, Shinon, and Gatrie. A week passed in the Crimea countryside before the Greil Mercenaries finally entered the great forest. The ancient woods reminded Soren of Gallia, so he’d never entered them before. His sweat turned cold as the towering trees swallowed their little company, and although the thick canopy provided shade from the summer sun, it offered little relief.

Not long after this, the princess stopped gawking at the height of the redwoods and steered herself over to Soren. Perhaps the false privacy of the trees made her feel talkative. “Your name is Soren, right?” she asked with a shy but friendly smile.

Although she should have certainly known his name by now, this was the first time she’d volunteered to speak with him personally. Soren found her attempt oddly irritating, so he didn’t answer.

After hesitating a moment, she continued: “I hear you were in Melior when…when it happened.”

“I was at the Royal Library,” Soren gave in.

“It’s a miracle you were able to escape,” Elincia noted with an air of congratulation.

“As an ignoble civilian, I was not targeted.”

“Even so,” she shook her head again, “there was so much chaos. The fires, they… It was so hard to see. No one knew where anyone was… No one knew what was happening.” Her voice broke as she choked on the words.

“Someone must have known what was happening,” Soren found himself replying in a hard, unsympathetic voice. “The guard was increased that night.”

Elincia stared at her feet. “Well, I didn’t know…” Her voice was hardly more than a whisper, and her eyes were moist with tears. Not willing to entertain this conversation any longer, he lengthened his stride and put some distance between them.

 

Soren was spared having to converse with the princess again, because she spent most of her time walking alone or making small talk with Ike, Rhys, or Titania. Occasionally Greil would give her an hour of his time to discuss politics and the state of the realm prior to the invasion. It seemed meaningless now that Daein had changed everything. Perhaps Greil was trying to distract her from what had happened, but that was a mercy Soren wouldn’t have expected from the commander.

One day when they were consulting the maps together, he decided to ask about it. “If you have been testing her fitness to rule,” Soren noted, gesturing to Elincia with his eyes, “You must have found by now that she is naïve and ill-prepared.” Greil furrowed his brow contemplatively but didn’t interrupt. “Why, then, do we continue to escort her to Gallia as if it will make any difference?”

Greil grunted and began folding the maps. “She is wiser and braver than you give her credit,” he replied.

“I don’t see it.”

“You’re ignoring it,” he said, throwing his shoulders back and turning his gaze to where Rhys was attending Elincia’s blistered feet. “Think—how could she be the only survivor of that ambush?”

Soren hadn’t thought about it, but as soon as he did, he recalled seeing a sword lying on the ground where Rhys had found her. “If a single Daein had survived, she would have been kidnapped. If a single Crimean, she would have been rescued,” Soren thought aloud, “We found her some distance from the carriage, with a moderate laceration on her shoulder and a significant concussion… This suggests she may have raised a blade in her own defense.”

“Not only that.” Greil nodded in agreement. “She must have taken a life to defend herself, and as you know, that is no easy thing.”

Since becoming a mercenary, Soren had become accustomed to the killing his position necessitated, but an untested princess would have no experience with such things. She would have been just as unprepared as Soren had been that day in the temple. “True,” he finally conceded, “But it is not admirable if the act broke her will. She has clearly not been able to accept what happened.”

“Look at her again,” Greil said simply. “She is not broken.”

Soren obeyed, and he had to admit it was somewhat impressive that she could still smile at Rhys despite everything.

“And as for acceptance—” Greil shrugged “—most of us never really accept our traumas. If we did, you wouldn’t be so afraid of where we’re going, right?” His words were like an electric shock, and Soren stared as if caught red-handed. Greil shook his head. “I don’t hold it against you. But I would ask that you no longer suggest we abandon the princess and turn back. We’ve struck a contract with young Elincia, and we will honor it to the end.”

“Understood, sir,” Soren mumbled, feeling thoroughly chastened.

Greil grunted and held out the folded maps for Soren to take. He took them, and Greil walked away without another word on the subject.

 

The farther south they traveled, the more oppressively hot the air became. The others wore their armor at all hours of the day and reeked of sweat. They only stopped to sleep for a few hours at a time, and they whined of exhaustion and backaches as often as they did the rashes and heat sores. Soren didn’t wear armor and could get by on little sleep if need be, but he was no less effected by the hard travel and tense nerves.

There had been no sign of the Daein pursuit since leaving the base, but Greil was adamant they wouldn’t be far behind so the mercenaries remained vigilant and constantly prepared for a fight. Soren agreed with Greil’s prudence. No matter how weak the princess was, Ashnard would not let a threat to his conquest slip through his fingers a fourth time.

“Blazes,” Gatrie cursed when they stopped for a break. “Why does it have to be so blamed humid? If we weren’t being chased, I’d strip off this armor here and now!” He dabbed the sweat from his brow with an already soaked handkerchief.

“And if there were ladies around, he would do it twice as quick,” Boyd whispered loudly to Ike with his hand shielding his mouth.

“Then I’m almost glad we are being pursued,” Titania laughed, nudging Gatrie playfully. Her attempt at humor was a surprise, and Soren supposed the heat must be getting to her head too. “I suppose you’ll just have to grin and bear it, won’t you?”

“Hm, I suppose I will.” Gatrie agreed, donning goofy grin.

Everyone laughed, but there was a frailty to their voices.

“Right.” Titania reverted to her usual self with a shake of her head. “So enough of your griping. You’re merely wasting energy.” She wiped the sweat from her own brow and appeared even paler than usual. “Still, this heat is appalling.”

“Dense forests such as these are not made for us delicate humans,” Shinon noted, dribbling water onto the back of his neck. “The subhumans love ‘em though.” He glanced around edgily. The fact that they were still in Crimea didn’t seem to relieve his fear of the beasts.

Ike stepped closer to Shinon. “These ‘subhumans’…are they really so different from us?”

“What, you mean to tell me you’ve never seen a beast-man before?” Shinon patronized.

“No, never,” Ike admitted.

“Well, I have. They’re a hairy bunch, I tell ya. And ugly as sin too. Their faces are all fangs and whiskers. Their claws are like daggers—razor sharp and deadly. And even though they can speak our language, they’re beasts through and through. Savages, every one.” Shinon crossed his arms, and Soren was amazed at how much he sounded like Sileas.

“Are there more than one type?” Ike sounded more curious than fearful.

Soren decided to take charge of his education. Better that than Shinon continuing to insult his ignorance. “The ones Shinon calls ‘subhumans’ can be divided into three groups, each named for its physical characteristics: the beast tribe, the bird tribe, and the dragon tribe. They are traditionally call ‘laguz’.”

Ike’s head fell to the side like a puppy listening with rapt interest. Sweat glued his hair to his forehead.

Soren continued: “The one residing here in Gallia is the beast tribe, who possess those feline qualities of which Shinon spoke.”

Shinon nodded. “To the south are the islands where the bird-men live. The dragons are in Goldoa. It’s something every mercenary should know. Looks like you know even less than I gave you credit for, Ike my boy.”

Ike seemed embarrassed. “Hm, perhaps.”

Talking about subhumans wasn’t something Soren enjoyed. He closed his eyes a moment to clear his thoughts. When he opened them again, he changed the subject: “A little farther, and we’ll be out of these trees, Ike.”

“Really?” Shinon snorted, “That means Gallia proper! Compared to this forest, even a kingdom of half-breeds will seem like heaven.”

 

The next day they finally neared the Gallian border. Soren’s maps showed there should be a break in the forest soon, which all the mercenaries would appreciate. However, it could also mean an attack from Daein. Even if he hadn’t predicted where Elincia would flee, King Ashnard would have sent troops to the border to secure his conquest. Soren could only wonder how many troops and how closely they’d be stationed.

“Hold it right there, everyone,” Greil ordered with his fist in the air. “We’re coming to the edge of the forest. Form up. Combat positions.”

Titania sighed and tapped her horse to take the right flank. “I don’t suppose our Daein pursuers were willing to let us just slip away.”

Soren fell back behind Boyd and was surprised to see Greil’s eyes following him as if expecting him to say something. So he spoke up: “There is no doubt they will attack again. Without knowing their numbers, it is difficult to advise a course of action.”

Shinon took his place opposite Soren with his bow strung, and Ike fell in line with Boyd. They’d now formed a protective semicircle with Elincia, Rolf, and Mist at the center. But because Greil was still looking at Soren, everyone else was too.

“Take your best guess, Soren,” Greil prodded. “With the limited information we have, what is the best way to proceed?”

“Okay,” Soren swallowed. The commander didn’t usually ask Soren for tactical guidance, but he pushed aside his surprise to think more clearly. “Some of our group cannot fight. If we are caught, we’ll have a difficult time defending them and attacking the Daein soldiers.” Just one glance at their cramped protective formation was enough to convey this fact. “I propose we separate into two groups: a small fighting force to engage the enemy and buy the main group some time, and the rest of us who will escort the princess to Gallia at full speed.”

“You want to divide our combat strength?” Oscar asked, rubbing his chin nervously. “The main force aside, don’t you think the risk to the smaller group is too high?”

“I believe this is the only way to achieve our goal and keep casualties to a minimum,” Soren replied firmly, “It is possible there’s an ambush waiting for us at the edge of the forest. If we proceed with no plan, we may be caught between the pursuit and the ambush, which would be the end of us all.”

“It looks like we’ve no choice but to give it a go.” Greil agreed with a confident grin. “Alright, let’s split up. The diversionary team will be Gatrie, Shinon, and me. The rest of you guard Princess Elincia and proceed to Gallia straightaway. Got it?”

“Are you sure you’re taking enough men?” Ike asked in concern.

Shinon shook his head condescendingly. “Idiot pup. Smaller numbers means more mobility. Your time would be better spent worrying about yourself than about us.”

Ike didn’t seem convinced.

“Listen up!” Greil called attention back to him. “This will probably prove to be the biggest fight this company’s faced. Remember—you’ve got only one life. I don’t want any of you dying on me. In times like these, it doesn’t matter what our blood ties are; we are family. If you don’t want to cause your family any grief, then live!” This wasn’t the first time Greil had given this speech, and Soren brushed if off as usual. “Ike will be commanding the main force. Titania, you’re his support. Alright, let’s move out! See you all in Gallia!”

After choosing a rendezvous, the two groups went their separate ways.