Fire Emblem Fan Fiction ❯ Fire Emblem Tellius Saga: Book 1 ❯ CHAPTER 23: CANTEUS CASTLE ( Chapter 23 )

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

As they neared Crimea, they slowed and tread more carefully. They would enter near Canteus Castle, a beorc fort that presided over the Crimean side of the border. Centuries ago, it had been the scene of major battles between Crimeans and Gallians. But in recent years, Ramon had only staffed it with a minimal guard.

Ranulf scouted ahead and, when he returned, confirmed their suspicions the fort had already been seized by Daein. He also reported that it was serving as a prison for captured Crimeans. Their plan had been to sneak by unnoticed, but after hearing Ranulf’s report, Elincia begged to free the prisoners.

Ike and Titania readily agreed, and even Ranulf seemed to think it was a good idea. Having entered the castle himself, he wasted no time devising an infiltration strategy. Soren was hesitant as he watched him work, but Ranulf reported seeing a stockpile of Crimean weapons and armor, which meant these prisoners were probably soldiers. Being rescued by a secret princess might inspire them to join Elincia’s entourage and further boost their fighting power. With this thought in mind, Soren finally consented to the cat’s plan.

 

Elincia and the merchants broke away from the mercenaries with the wagons and Titania’s, Oscar’s, and Marcia’s steeds in tow. They would enter Crimea by the previously determined route, and Ranulf promised to catch up to them shortly. But first he would help the mercenaries sneak into the castle.

They moved through the dark forest without torches and they muffled their armor with rags. The laguz used their keen night vision and sense of smell to guide them to an old service entrance. The lock was already broken from Ranulf’s previous visit.

 The company filed into the narrow corridor and then into the basement where the cells were located. Most of the soldiers were sleeping, and those on guard didn’t expect any attack.

“Oh, this reminds me of when Commander Greil saved me from those ruins,” Mia whispered nostalgically. “Good ol’ Greil Mercenaries coming to the rescue again!”

“Shh!” Titania reprimanded, as Mia’s voice has gotten too loud.

She clamped her mouth shut but was still smiling at the memory.

Gesturing for everyone to stop moving and stay silent, Ranulf peered around the corner into the dungeon’s main room. Soren didn’t know what he saw on the other side, but he had little doubt there were guards nearby. “The question is,” Ranulf whispered, “how do you open those cells and free the prisoners?” He sounded anxious and was directing his question at Ike.

They exchanged places, and Ike took a peek at the room. “The cells are sure to be locked,” he said once he’d brought his head back in, “so in order to open them…” He seemed as uncertain as Ranulf.

Obviously, the cells were going to be locked and under heavy guard—they should have thought of that when making the decision to risk their lives for these prisoners. But there was no going back now. “Logic would dictate that the keys will be in the possession of the jailer,” Soren whispered in reasonable tones. “We’ve no choice but to steal them. If we’re lucky, the guards will have keys as well. In either case, we must move with caution. We don’t want to trade blows with the entire castle garrison.”

In the best-case scenario, the mercenaries would rescue all the prisoners and quietly eliminate the guards on the lower levels, before anyone could raise an alarm and awaken the whole fort. If all went smoothly, the mercenaries and escapees would slip out the other side and meet Elincia and Ranulf in Crimea proper.

In the second-best scenario, the mercenaries freed most of the prisoners and eliminated most the guards relatively quietly, but a contingent still pursued them beyond the walls. The mercenaries would have to lose them or defeat them in the woods before reuniting with the princess.

In the third-best scenario, the mercenaries freed some of the prisoners, accidentally woke the fort, and escaped with their lives and at least a few prisoners. In the worst-case scenario, the mercenaries woke the fort and were routed before escaping.

“Which means we stay close to the walls and avoid being seen or heard, right?” Ike was saying. Soren returned his attention to the conversation and nodded. “Alright then. Our first priority is to get our hands on the cell keys.” He sounded excited, as if he were a child again and this a new game.

“Hey, you there!” Ranulf hissed suddenly and lunged between Boyd and Mist. He darted through the mercenaries quick as a flash, even in his unshifted form. Everyone jumped slightly but froze in place. They watched as Ranulf held a strange man against the wall with his arm behind his back.

The man didn’t struggle, and his other hand was raised in an expression of surrender. But his eyes, which inspected the mercenaries over the curve of his shoulder, didn’t convey the same message. They were shrewd, exacting, and not the least threatened. The man himself was a beorc of moderate height and a lean build. He was dressed all in black and brown and didn’t wear a speck of armor. On his belt hung a long dagger, a medium-sized knife, a small bag, and what appeared to be a smoke pipe. He carried nothing else, and he’d made no effort to draw either weapon before Ranulf grabbed him. Soren would wager he wasn’t a Daein soldier.

“I have business with Sir Greil. Where is he?” the man said in a low voice. Ranulf let go, and Soren, Ike, and Titania moved to the back of the group to address the stranger more clearly.

“You’re sorely lacking in social etiquette, aren’t you?” Soren noted. “State your business.”

“I’ll speak with Sir Greil and Sir Greil alone. Now take me to him.”

Titania took a threatening step forward, clenching her fists. She seemed irrationally angry, perhaps thinking anyone who was not up to date on Greil’s current condition was obviously scum. “What you ask is impossible. Commander Greil is dead.”

“Well, that is a problem,” he replied slyly.

That made Titania even angrier (probably from his lack of complete desolation at the news). “Just who are you, anyway?” she snapped.

 “Call me Volke. Sir Greil hired me. I’m in—” he seemed to think for a moment “—intelligence.”

“My father hired you?” Ike’s voice was tinged with equal parts hope and confusion.

“You are Sir Greil’s son, correct?” Volke examined him and nodded. “You’ll do. Sir Greil hired me to investigate something. You pay my price, and I’ll give you my report. Deal?”

“How much?” Ike asked.

“Fifty thousand. Gold.”

Silence followed his words. It was an outrageous sum, but if Volke expected it to be paid, Soren could only imagine what information he was sitting on. If he knew to intercept them at Canteus Castle, he must have a source inside Gallia. Not many intelligencers could claim that.

“That’s a bit steep.” Ike finally said.

“And worth every penny,” Volke assured.

Ike shook his head. “I don’t have that much. Give me some time.”

Volke raised an eyebrow. “So, you’re willing to pay?”

“My father hired you. He must have had a good reason.”

“Are you sure, Commander? We have no way of knowing if he’s telling the truth.” Titania gave Volke a reproachful look.

“We’ll know when we see the contents of that report. Until then, let’s have him travel with us,” Ike reasoned.

Volke didn’t seem to like that idea. “So that’s your plan, eh? Listen. You get the report when I get paid. I am not waiting around until then. I’ll keep my information for the time being. Call me when you’ve got the gold. Stop into any tavern along your way. Tell the barkeep you’ve need of a firearm. You’ll see me within an hour.” He turned to leave.

“Hold a moment!” Soren commanded, keeping his voice quiet but forceful.

Volke stopped in his tracks and turned curiously.

“Intelligence…” Soren repeated. If what this man said about the barkeeps was true, he was intending to follow them anyway. He could be a useful resource if his skills matched his claims. “You said you were in intelligence, right? Is information the only thing you sell?”

“Come out with it. What are you asking?”

“Locks,” Soren stated simply. “Can you open locks?”

“Sure. Fifty gold per lock.” Volke shrugged. Again, it was an outrageous fee.

Ike turned to Soren. “You’re going to have him open the cell doors?”

“Is that wise?” Titania cautioned. “We’ve only just met him. There’s no telling if we can trust him.”

Ike stared at Volke as if trying to determine if he was friend or foe. “Volke, will you help us break into these cells?” he finally asked.

“As long as I get paid, I’ve got no complaint.”

Soren was oddly pleased. In fact, he was going to enjoy having this guy around. Soren’s biggest concern about this mission was that the mercenaries were incapable of subtly. None among them was suited for covert operations. 

“Titania? Objections?” Ike asked.

Titania sighed. “I told you before, didn’t I? You’re the Commander. If you decide on a course of action, I will but follow.”

Ranulf clapped his hands together, bringing them all back to the present situation. “Righto!” he said in a loud whisper. “I’m off. Good luck and all that.”

“What? Wait! You’re not going to help us here?” Ike seemed disappointed.

“Much as I would like to. I have a job to do. I will rejoin you when I’m finished.” Ike still seemed confused, so Ranulf covered the side of his mouth as if sharing a secret and whispered, “My job is escorting Princess Elincia, remember?”

“Oh, right.” Ike shook his head as if feeling foolish. “Well, good luck to you then.”

“Yes, and to you as well.” Ranulf nudged his shoulder and grinned at Ike’s expense. Although Soren was annoyed at the cat’s impudence, Ike didn’t seem to mind. He just smiled warmly as Ranulf transformed and bounded back through the tunnel. (They’d become fast friends in just a couple weeks, and Soren didn’t understand it at all).

When Ranulf was gone, Ike drew his sword, and everyone mirrored him by drawing their own weapons—everyone except Volke. “Volke, you and I are going in first,” Ike said to him. “Earn some coin getting those cells unlocked and I’ll talk to the prisoners.” Volke just shrugged, but when Ike moved to the front, he slithered obediently in his shadow. “Everyone, stay low and quiet. Follow us and be ready to fight if we’re spotted. Marcia, Oscar, watch our rear. Ilyana, no lightning unless completely necessary, okay? Lethe, Mordecai, try not to roar.”

Marcia, Oscar, and Ilyana each saluted. Lethe and Mordecai just nodded seriously.

“We’re going to save as many Crimeans as possible, you hear? Greil Mercenaries, move out!” Ike’s usual battle cry was no more than a hoarse whisper, but it did its job to enliven the others. With a quick glimpse around the corner, Ike and Volke twisted into the adjacent room. Soren and Mia were next, followed by Titania and Mist, Boyd, Rolf, and Rhys, Lethe and Mordecai, and finally Oscar and Marcia.

The room was dark except for the glow of a few torches, and Soren could see only two guards leaning against the far wall. The ceiling was supported by pillars, and two of the four walls were lined with cells. It was hard to tell which ones were occupied. The first cell door creaked open under Volke’s deft fingers, and the soldiers suddenly tensed.

Soren could hear Ike whispering to the prisoners, although he couldn’t pick out the words. One of the guards took a torch from the wall. “Hey, no talking!” he ordered the darkness.

Ike and Volke moved onto the next cell. Mia and Titania, meanwhile were creeping up to the soldiers on the opposite side. Soren moved closer and muttered a dousing spell to suffocate one of the nearest torches and lend them more darkness.

This spooked the guards, and they exchanged nervous glances. Another cell door creaked open, and once again Soren heard Ike’s voice whispering.

“Hey, I said no talking! I’m not going to warn you Crimean pigs again!”

Mia was close now, and the soldiers would see her if they turned their heads. But they didn’t. She lashed out with her sword and cut one’s throat. He wasn’t wearing neck guard or even a helmet. Titania lunged at the other, but not before he cried out in fear and surprise. Her killing stroke wasn’t clean, and he continued to gurgle for help until she ended his life.

This brought a march of steps from the other room. But Rolf and Boyd were ready. Rolf loosed an arrow, and Boyd threw a small hand axe as soon as the guards turned the corner. Soren already had a Wind spell prepared and unleash it on the third. But these weren’t clean kills either. All three continued to scream and cry out. Lethe and Mordecai pounced forward, clamping their jaws on the Daeins’ throats, and Mia rushed to take care of the last one.

Soren listened intently to the silence that followed. First, he heard the sounds of prisoners waking up. They moaned and asked what was going on, who was there. Then, he heard the tramp of footsteps—they were coming from behind. 

Reinforcements came from the rear first, descending the steps beside the service tunnel. Marcia and Oscar were ready for them and started jabbing and slashing their lances into any face that dared round the corner.

Then came the sound of more boots pounding the floor in the next room. Titania and Boyd were ready, hidden on either side of the threshold, and they swung out their axes in unison to take the newcomers by surprise. Unfortunately there were far more this time, and fighting spilled into the dungeon.

“What the hell is-” a garrison commander exclaimed when he ran in, but his question died in his throat when he saw the infiltrators in the gloom. Soren aimed a wind spell at his neck, hoping to kill him quickly.

The mercenaries continued to fight, and Volke continued to open doors. Soren checked the pockets and belts of every guard he came across, and he knew several of the others were doing the same. When he found keys, he threw them in the nearest cell to let the prisoners do the rest. When Ike wasn’t fighting, he was talking to them, and soon they’d grown into a mob that trailed behind him like so many confused ducklings.

Although they had no weapons, some of the prisoners tried to help. They freed others and talked to them, explaining that they were being rescued by the resistance army of a secret Princess of Crimea. Whether or not they believed this story, they were all willing to follow the mercenaries if it meant being rescued. Some of the escapees even helped break into the jailor’s storage room to reclaim their confiscated weapons and armor.

Just then, a bolt of lightning lit up the dungeon, and the sound of the blast popped Soren’s ears. The light disappeared in an instant, leaving him and everyone else momentarily blinded. But his mind was clear. Apparently Ilyana had had no choice but to defend herself with a Thunder spell, and with that, the ruse was up.

 “So much for stealth,” Soren sighed aloud. He started using fire spells, having held back until now. He chanted as fast as he could, and his comrades fought frantically. Now that they’d woken the castle, it was time to get out as soon as possible. Titania and Boyd beat on the cage doors with their axes, freeing prisoners without need of keys.

The mercenaries charged like a cleansing wildfire through the stone rooms and iron bars. They tried every door they found, looking for a way out. Titania smashed a lock and threw open the door, and Soren felt a burst of fresh night air.

“Good work, Captain Titania!” Ike laughed. He turned to the crowd behind him, calling, “Time to get out of here!” Then he handed her a torch. “Lead them out.”

Titania nodded and obeyed, but Soren stayed with Ike. They passed torches to every fourth person, and when the last mercenary was accounted for, he and Ike toppled a chest of drawers to bar the entrance. After safely climbing over it into the hallway, Soren set it aflame. There were Daein soldiers hot on their heels, but this would at least slow them down.

Then he and Ike raced down the hall, up some stairs, and down another corridor until they found themselves exiting Canteus Castle into Crimean. Soren looked up at the moon and wondered at their good fortune in coming out on the right side.

“Douse your torches! Stay close!” Ike ordered as he ran up the column of mercenaries and prisoners.

Soren tried to keep up, but there were too many people and the forest was becoming too dense. The prisoners ran in a jumble of flailing limbs, held hands, and whispered shouts: “Are you there? Where are we going?”

Before long, Soren disentangled himself and fell back to where half of the mercenaries were guarding the rear.

They ran for nearly four miles, but it was hard to tell at this time of night in woods so thick. Finally they rested in a cave. It had begun to rain, which would help cover their escape.

Soren did a quick headcount and was satisfied to see that all eleven mercenaries and the two laguz had survived. In addition, they’d acquired over forty Crimean prisoners of war. Not everyone could fit in the cave, so Rhys and Mist attended the injured inside while everyone else got soaked.

Soren tracked down Ike and Titania in the deluge. Then the trio lit a torch and used their bodies to shield the light. With this they pored over the map, trying to find their position relative to the rendezvous.

Just then, Lethe approached. She glanced distastefully at the sodden paper. “I have picked up Captain Ranulf’s trail,” she announced. “But the rain may wash it away if we linger here too long.”

Ike looked up at the sky, and his eyelashes trembled under the onslaught of raindrops. In the feeble firelight, his usually fierce eyes seemed tamed. “Alright,” he finally said, looking at Lethe. “Let’s get everyone up. We move out now.”

Some of the prisoners groaned, but most were quiet and contrite as they followed Lethe through the dark, wet forest. The rain began to let up, and eventually Soren could see stars in the gaps between the clouds. Eventually these too faded. It was dawn when they reached the pond they’d chosen as their rendezvous point.

Ranulf, Elincia, and the merchants were here and already awake. Everyone came to greet the mercenaries. Elincia hoisted her damp skirts in both hands as she ran. Aimee squeezed Ilyana and pecked the top of her head like a mother. Marcia’s pegasus pranced to her, and Titania and Oscar’s horses knickered excited. After grasping Ike’s shoulders in a familiar way, Ranulf consulted with him and the beast laguz about the battle’s outcome. Meanwhile, most of the ex-prisoners stayed together, apparently unsure what to do now.

One, however, separated from the crowd, ran toward Princess Elincia, and prostrated himself at her feet. He claimed to be a Royal Knight, and Oscar vouched for him. The knight—whose name was Kieran—immediately announced his desire to join Princess Elincia’s entourage. Ike and Elincia agreed. Soren was satisfied with this; a Royal Knight would be a strong addition to their fighting power.

After Kieran’s outburst and impromptu speech, the princess made a more formal one to the prisoners. She explaining her identity (which Kieran’s support helped validate) and gave them the option of returning home or joining her effort to free Crimea from Daein control. She didn’t mention their intention to sail to Begnion, which Soren thought was prudent. Those who didn’t join them would become liabilities, and they could easily trade their knowledge to the Daein army in return for favorable standing in the new regime.

Despite the princess’s entreaty, only two more people came forward to join the mercenary army. Both were militiamen who’d heeded the call to arms when Daein had first attacked. Their mobilization hadn’t lasted long, and Daein had quickly captured them and marched them to that dungeon for interrogation. One was a middle-aged man named Brom. He claimed to be good with an axe and had even managed to rescue his armor from Canteus Castle during their escape.

The other new recruit was a young woman named Nephenee. To Soren’s astonishment, she was the same person who’d invited him to dinner all those years ago. However, she didn’t appear to recognize him, which was for the best. She also appeared much shyer now that she was removed from the comfort of her family farm.

War makes the world small, Soren thought as he watched Kieran, Brom, and Nephenee swear fealty to Princess Elincia. He turned his attention back to the prisoners. They’d begun to spread out, mingle, and relax in the warm sun. But then he saw something that made his heart skip a beat. The world was even smaller than he’d thought.

His eyes were stuck on a familiar form, a few heads shorter than the rest of the rescued Crimeans. The bobbed hair in the back of her head faded in an out of view, but Soren kept his eyes trained on the spot as he walked toward it. The Crimeans noted his purposeful strides and made way. Soren reached out and touched her shoulder.

Koure turned. Recognition bloomed in her eyes, but Soren was hardly looking at those. He was staring at the swollen, heavily bruised right side of her face. One eye was nearly swollen shut, and the skin was broken with little cuts underneath. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Soren!” Koure threw her arms around him and smiled despite the pain the expression must have brought to her right cheek.

Embarrassed by her affection, Soren swiftly removed himself from her embrace and stepped back. She didn’t seem bothered and merely tilted her head and grinned slightly as if to say ‘typical Soren’. Once he’d made sure none of the mercenaries were looking, he grabbed her hand and led her to the back of the crowd.

“You’re with the mercenaries who saved us?” Koure asked as they walked.

“Yes,” Soren replied. “And you were captured by Daein?” He knew she must be seventeen now, but she still looked young. She could have been mistaken for a child, which made it surprising the Daeins had selected her for imprisonment.

“I tried to fight back when the soldiers came.” Koure shrugged. “And when I was captured, I guess I asked too many questions.” She pointed at her injured face.

“Did the soldiers hurt you?” It was a stupid question given the circumstances, but Koure seemed to understand what he meant.

She shook her head. “I’m fine. Actually, there was this Daein general named Petrine, and when she was at the fort, she ordered the men not to touch any of the women. Some of the prisoners were tortured for information, but not me. I just got slapped around if I was annoying.”

“You said you were asking questions?” Soren asked urgently. She could be an asset if she’d managed to extract any information from a loose-tongued soldier.

Koure shook her head. “Nothing relevant to your commander I bet.” She looked embarrassed. “I wasn’t really asking about the invasion… I was… Well, it’s a long story.”

“I have a few minutes,” Soren replied seriously.

Koure smiled. “Okay, well, after my father died, my aunt let slip that I was found in Daein. Father’d never told me that before. But I never really knew anything about Daein, and now that I had the chance, I wanted to… I wanted to know more about the place where I was born, and, coincidentally, the people who invaded my homeland.” She ran a hand through her hair as if distressed. “I didn’t learn much.”

“I understand,” Soren surprised himself by saying. “I was born in Daein too.” He was stunned that the words had just slipped out of his mouth. He’d never told that to anyone but Greil and Elena. He was also surprised to find that what he said was the truth; of course he wanted to know about his parents and his home, if he’d ever had the right to one.

Koure grinned encouragingly. “I didn’t know that. Oh Ashera, it’s good to see you again! I didn’t know if I ever would.”

“War makes the world small,” he mused aloud this time. She nodded solemnly, and they were both silent for a moment. “What will you do now?” Soren finally asked. “Will you fight for Princess Elincia?” Koure shook her head slowly, and Soren was surprised by the disappointment he felt. What do I care what she does? he asked himself, and yet he asked aloud, “What will you do then?”

She glanced around as if to make sure no one was listening. “I want to go to Daein,” she said quietly. “To see if I can find where I came from. Maybe I even have family still alive.”

Soren thought about this for a moment. “Okay,” he finally said.

“I know the timing is odd…” They stood awkwardly for a few moments, until Koure finally changed the subject. “I returned to the temple, but the whole place had burned down years before I got back. I asked around. Some said you’d died in the fire. Others said you’d started it.”

Soren frowned. “I didn’t.”

Koure offered a comforting smile. “Don’t worry, I didn’t believe them.”

Now it was Soren’s turn. “I went the Home, a couple years after you did. But you were gone.”

“I didn’t last long there… It wasn’t a good fit.” Koure seemed suddenly uncomfortable. “How was it?”

“Can’t say.” Soren shook his head. “It wasn’t a good fit for me either.”

Koure grimaced, and Soren was reminded of the painful wound on her face. “I’ll bring you to a healer who can fix your cheek,” he said, his tone businesslike.

Koure nodded in agreement, and Soren led her away from the crowd. This time he didn’t hold her hand. He led her without turning around to even make sure she was following. Then he dropped her off with Mist and pretended he had something urgent to speak to Ike about.

“Thank you,” Koure called when he was leaving.

Soren just nodded, not trusting his voice to sound normal. He didn’t want the other mercenaries to be suspicious. He didn’t want them to know anything about his life before joining the company.

 

After busying himself with errands for Ike, Soren watched the freed prisoners walk north along the shore of the lake. They were going home, hoping to find their farms unburned and leave their horrific experiences behind. Soren couldn’t pick Koure out of the crowd, but he knew she was leaving with the rest. When the Crimeans were out of sight, Soren felt he could breathe easily again. He approached Ike to see what the next move would be.

“What is your plan now?” he asked.

Ike shook his head. “There is no need to hurry off right away. Everyone needs to rest a little bit after the battle. Mist and Rhys are seeing to the injured as we speak. We have to wait for Ranulf anyway. He is scouting our route.”

Soren nodded. He had expected as much.

Then Volke suddenly appeared. “Ike,” he said, making everyone jump. It was as if he had been invisible only a moment before.

“Oh, hello, Volke. What do you want?”

“I was thinking about traveling with you for a bit. I’ll be in the general area, so if you need anything, you can call me. I’ll help you out—for a fee, of course.”

“What did you say?” Titania demanded, outraged.

“Why would you do such a thing?” Ike asked curiously. “In times such as these, there must be many parties that need ‘intelligence’.”

“You’ve sparked my curiosity. And besides…” He was about to say something more, but shook his head and seemed to think better of it. “No, we’ll just have to leave it at that.”

Titania crossed her arms. “That is not acceptable.”

“Don’t be so inflexible. It’s not as if I’ll be joining your merry band or anything. This is strictly business,” Volke replied slyly.

“And yet you-” she stormed.

“Titania,” Ike cautioned.

Soren decided it was time for him to speak his mind. He stepped between Titania and Volke. “I believe this is a good opportunity. We will almost certainly have need of this man’s talents. He is a dubious character at best, but at least we know his motives. Everything begins and ends with gold. He’ll be easy to control.”

“Soren,” Ike said, with one eyebrow raised, “he’s standing right there.”

“I don’t think he minds.” Soren didn’t turn to see if he thought correctly, but Volke made no protest.

Titania sighed. “What will it be, Ike? The decision is yours.”

“Very well,” Ike addressed Volke, “You may do as you like.”

“Excellent. Call me if you need anything.” With that, Volke slipped away again.

“First the thief and then that monk. What an odd class of characters you attract,” Ranulf’s voice sounded behind them. Ike twisted around with a wide smile to welcome him into the conversation. The monk Ranulf referred to was a man named Sephiran who claimed to be a religious pilgrim from Begnion who’d become caught in the war and imprisoned among with Crimeans. Soren hadn’t met the man himself, but he’d heard the story by now.

Ike, Ranulf, and Titania began chatting about monks, daring escapes, and other such things, so Soren took his leave of them. He decided to make himself useful by helping Rhys write up contracts for the new recruits.

 

“It doesn’t say Royal Knight anywhere on here!” Kieran complained as he screwed up his eyes to read Rhys’s tiny script.

“That’s because you’re not a Royal Knight anymore,” Soren answered. “You’re a mercenary employed by Princess Elincia under Commander Ike.”

Kieran bared his teeth. “Once a Royal Knight, always a Royal Knight!” He handed the paper back to Rhys as if to make an amendment, but Soren took it instead.

“You’re wrong,” he said. “The Royal Knights failed to protect Crimea from the Daein invasion. King Ashnard has declared victory, so the knights and militia have been disbanded and any rebels imprisoned. Or didn’t you realize that when you were rotting in that cell?”

Kieran frowned. “It’s about honor, kid.” He held out his hand for Soren to give the contract back, but he didn’t.

Instead he held the paper in both hands as if prepared to rip it down the middle. “Becoming a mercenary will allow you to serve your precious princess. But you must leave that Royal Knight nonsense behind. Sell-swords own no land or titles. The only honor they know is the honor of the trade: coin for blood. If you cannot accept that, you have no place here.”

Soren was irritated to see his words had failed to dishearten or effect the red-haired knight in any way. He remained standing confidently, chin raised, a smile stretched to the side. “I hear you, kid, but knightliness runs in my veins! That needs to be acknowledged.”

Rhys sighed and took the contract from Soren. He let him have it and watched as he appended ‘Royal Knight of Crimea’ after Kieran’s name in the first line. Soren was annoyed Rhys let this fool have his way.

Kieran took the contract back and signed it enthusiastically. Then he jaunted off, and Nephenee and Brom approached from where they’d been reading and discussing their contracts nearby.

“Looks alright to me!” Brom said cheerily. “I might even make some money to bring home to my wife and kids when all this is done.”

Nephenee said nothing as she meekly handed Rhys the paper.

Rhys thanked them and asked if they had any questions.

“I suppose my only question is where to next?” Brom answered optimistically.

“Begnion,” Soren answered.

“Well I’ll be!” Brom laughed. “My mum always said I’d be a world traveler someday.”

Nephenee seemed curious but she still didn’t say anything.

Soren was bored with these Crimean farmers, so he took his leave of them. He milled among the others, who were resting by the lakeside, drinking and eating their fill. But they were also making preparations. It was dangerous to linger now that they were in Daein territory, and Soren was satisfied to find the mercenaries could push themselves despite their tiredness. They were ready to renew the trek within a quarter hour.