Fire Emblem Fan Fiction ❯ Fire Emblem Tellius Saga: Book 1 ❯ CHAPTER 29: EMANCIPATION ARMY ( Chapter 29 )

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

After five months and countless raiding missions, the mercenaries found themselves at the edge of the Grann Desert in central Begnion. Soren gazed out at the unforgiving sand and had a bad feeling about this job. It was the first to have nothing to do with cracking down on smugglers or illegal buyers. Sigrun had used the word ‘bandits’ to describe the group of people who’d established a base of operations in the ruins somewhere in desert, and she wanted the Greil Mercenaries to confront these bandits and eliminate them if necessary. However, she’d told them nothing of their numbers, their fighting power, or how long they’d been entrenched at this base—all things Soren would have liked to know.

The mercenaries had just crossed through the mountains that encircled the desert like a wall, and now the flat expanse of sand extended before them as far as the eye could see. In the east, the land grew rockier and sandstone formations were barely visible in the haze. In the north and west, the crests of sand dunes loomed among clouds of dust.

Ike donned a cloth eye mask that would protect the top part of his head from burns while also shielding his eyes from the glare. It was an interesting replacement of the headband he usually wore into battle. The rest of the mercenaries tied on similar headgear or smeared a charcoal paste on the tops of their cheeks. Soren tied a strip of black cloth across the bridge of his nose and cheeks and pulled up his hood. It was hot, but better than being blinded.

With his hood in place, Soren adjusted the weight of the water pack on his shoulders. They were all wearing these small rucksacks containing an extra ration of food, water, and vulneraries. The added weight was annoying, but Soren understood the precaution. The Grann might not be Death Desert, but it was still one of the most inhospitable places in Tellius.

 

After walking through the scrubland for a day, the mountains that marked their entrance were almost out of view. Before them stretched the great field of dunes, and the ruins they were looking for were somewhere among them. Ike sent Jill and Marcia to scout ahead.

Everyone else rested while they waited for the airborne women to return. Soren claimed one of the few rocks in the area as his seat and peered into the distant sand clouds. Seeing nothing, he then he moved his gaze over the mercenaries. His eyes eventually rested on Nasir, who was standing by the water wagon, patting dust from the horses’ coats. He was apprehensive of the dragon, who’d elected to come on this mission despite the fact that he never fought alongside them. He wasn’t a mercenary, and yet he insisted on inserting himself into their affairs. This job had nothing to do with Elincia, so why had he come?

He was distracted from his unanswered questions by Ike’s approach. “Tell me, Soren,” he said by way of greeting, “are you alright?”

Panic replaced all thoughts of Nasir. “Hm?” Soren hummed as if he hadn’t a clue why Ike would ask such a thing. In truth, he felt he’d been caught red-handed in the middle of a crime. The crime, he realized, was existing.

“Recently—well, ever since we reached Begnion actually—you’ve seemed depressed.” His tone was soft with concern.

“Is… Is that so?” Soren didn’t know what to say. With everything going on with Elincia and Sanaki, he hadn’t expected him to notice. “How odd. Well, I can think of nothing specific that’s bothering me.”

“Well, if you say so…” Ike seemed disappointed and probably knew he was lying. For a moment it seemed he would push the matter, but he didn’t. He turned his own gaze to the desert.

Soren allowed his mind to wander again. He was worried now—worried that Ike and the others would notice something had changed. He feared they would try to find out what was wrong with him, what had always been wrong with him.

“So, it’s time for the desert!” Ike clapped his hands together, changing the subject, “Which is the best direction to enter from?”

Soren dimly registered the words. But his mind marked them as small talk, and he didn’t feel compelled to respond.

“Soren?” Ike coaxed.

“Huh?” Soren shook his head, knowing he owed Ike his attention, small talk or not. “Ah, yes, what is it?”

Ike crossed his arms. “Alright, now I know there’s something going on!”

“I’m… I’m sorry… I was—” Soren gave another quick shake of his head to clear it “—thinking. What is it you wanted?”

Ike’s expression became suddenly grim. He was looking at something over Soren’s head. “Well, I was going to ask you for directions, but it’s no longer necessary. It looks like we’re being met.”

Soren leapt from his rock. Two figures had materialized in the billowing dust. One had the stature of a child. The other was far taller; they followed the smaller figure with long, slow strides. Both were swathed in brown fabric that hid their bodies and most of their faces. Thanks to the color of the cloth, they blended into the desert.

Jill and Marcia were twin streaks barreling toward them. Marcia leapt off of her pegasus first. “Commander Ike, there are people coming!” she announced, all in one breath.

Ike jerked his thumb at the two cloaked figures.

Marcia looked embarrassed. “I mean more coming! Dozens.”

“Shh,” Titania hushed. “They’re here.”

The two people had stopped thirty yards ahead of them. Ike nodded to Marcia to show he’d heard her, but he continued several more steps before planting his feet.

“Who are you? Answer me!” the small one demanded. His voice was shrill like a child’s.

“We’re mercenaries,” Ike answered. “We were hired to take care of a group of bandits operating in this area.”

“More of the senators’ dogs!” the boy spat. Then he cried, in a voice shaking in anger: “You cast us as thieves so that you can murder us and hide your guilt! But we will not be defeated! Mark my words! The day will come when all slaves are free, and then you will pay for your crimes!” He pointed an accusing finger at Ike, and Soren was certain this was no more than a boy after all.

Ike cocked his head in confusion. “What on earth are you talking about?”

“No more useless words! Come, my brothers! Take them!” Upon the boy’s order, many more figures rose behind him, casting aside sand-colored mantles.

To Soren’s astonishment, several leapt into the air on wings, where they transformed into giant hawks and ravens. The ones on the ground transformed into cats and tigers. Sigrun hadn’t mentioned that the bandits weren’t beorc. Then again, she hadn’t told them much of anything.

“What? We’re facing laguz?” Ike muttered uncertainly, “I don’t like the look of this.”

Considering Ike’s soft spot for the beast-men, Soren decided to step in and remind him why they were here. “Laguz or not, it doesn’t change the fact that they are brigands. Do not lower your guard.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Ike snapped, but he immediately softened and shook his head in apology. Taking a deep breath, he turned to the rest of the company. “Everyone! Watch your footing in this sand. Take care and fight well!”

The mercenaries cheered. The laguz roared and shrieked. On an unspoken command, they both charged. Soren wasted no time chanting spells and dodging talons and claws. But he wasn’t so distracted that he didn’t notice the bandits’ boy-leader and his large shadow slip to the back of their troops. Soren squinted and saw the silhouette of a low building—probably the ruins they’d made their base. They’d been right on their enemy’s doorstep and hadn’t realized it.

 

As he fought, Soren determined none of these laguz were like the feral ones they’d been facing recently. Their eyes were clear and their mouths free of slobber. They cried out in human voices as well as animalistic roars. They were clear-headed and deliberate in their attacks. In some ways, that made them even more difficult opponents.

The battle wore on, and Soren also noted that these laguz didn’t fight and die like soldiers. They retreated when injured, and most would even stop fighting and abandon ground just to carry their comrades to safety. This served the mercenaries’ advantage, and bit by bit, they pushed the laguz hoard back to the ruins.

Finally, the dead lay in divots of sand and the injured cowered against stone protrusions jutting out of the dunes. Only one opponent remained, blocking the entrance to the ruins, where the others had retreated. This was the big one who’d followed in the child-leader’s footsteps. The child himself was nowhere to be seen.

The mercenaries farthest from the man started to relax. The fight was all but over. Soren’s gaze turned to where Nasir was approaching with the water wagon. Rolf ran to meet him, cheering, “Aw, thanks, Nasir!”

Soren scowled. The dragon was supposed to stay behind, waiting for the mercenaries to come back. Once again, he was trespassing where he was neither wanted nor needed.

But he wasn’t doing any harm, so Soren returned his attention to the final bandit. The man threw away his cloak to reveal he was indeed a tiger laguz. Although he was slightly taller than Mordecai, he wasn’t nearly as broad. His dark-green hair was wrapped in a white bandana. His skin was dark, and his laguz markings took the shape of symmetrical green stripes on the points of his jaw.

Ike was with Mist, kneeling over an injured cat laguz many yards away (perhaps attempting to speak with them), so Titania kicked her horse forward. “Surrender!” she ordered the tiger.

“Never,” he answered in a low voice.

“I can take him,” Mia said, passing Titania. He spat a stream of blood and spit from her mouth and leveled her blade. Soren knew it was a laguz-killing sword. The razor-sharp teeth of its serrated edge were especially effective against the beasts’ tough hides. It was designed to do as much damage as possible—therefore making it difficult for the victim to sustain their transformation. She’d picked it up from a smuggler killed in one of their most recent raids. Lethe had turned up her nose at the weapon, and Ike refused to wield it. But they’d found themselves fighting laguz, so Soren thought she’d been practical to keep it. Today it had served her well.

The tiger transformed, becoming a long, green saber-toothed beast. He roared, and Mia attacked. He was both stronger and more agile than the feral ones they’d been fighting. But Mia was fast, and she wielded that wicked blade.

Finally she cut his right foreleg out from under him, tearing the tendons so he couldn’t stand. But she didn’t pause to see if the attack had been enough, instead lunging to slash the hindleg on the same side. He jumped and twisted to swipe at her, pulling his claws through her skin in a single streak that extended across her back and down her leg. She cried out in pain, but it was too late for the tiger. He’d already been cut, and off-balanced, he fell.

He struggled, rolling and bleeding, but couldn’t get back up. Zihark lent Mia a hand, helping her limp away from the fallen beast. The tiger reverted his form, clutching his useless arm and sitting with his injured leg outstretched. “We lose,” he whispered.

“You!” Ike stepped up, having caught the end of the fight. “You’re the leader of this band, aren’t you?”

“I am...” The man bowed his head. “Take me with you or execute me here, I care not. But my companions…would you let them go?” He paused to glance up at Ike. “Please?” Soren thought begging seemed incongruous with the proud race.

“No! I won’t allow it!” cried a voice within the ruin. A beorc boy with bright orange hair pushed open the old, fractured door and came running out. This was the bandit leader, but Soren didn’t know which was stranger—that he was so young or that he was beorc.

“Huh?” Ike blanched.

The beorc, who couldn’t be much older than Rolf and whose legs were skinny and short, threw his arms around the big laguz, ignoring the blood that oozed onto him. “I won’t let you take Muarim!” he declared, and his prepubescent voice cracked.

“Stay back, little one.” The injured laguz winced as he detached the boy with his good arm and pushed him behind him. “You were not supposed to expose-”

“If you want Muarim, you’ll have to kill me first!” the boy yelled to Ike from behind Muarim’s arm.

“You’re-” Ike began in confusion.

“Yes, he is a beorc child. I claimed him when he was little more than an infant. He has nothing to do with us…subhumans.” Muarim explained, and Soren was surprised by the word.

“Stop lying!” the boy growled, sounding older. “I’m here because I want to be. Who’s the leader of the emancipation army? I am!” He then lapsed back into his more childlike demeanor. “You’re a big jerk, Muarim! Trying to cover for everyone and get yourself killed? I won’t allow it!” He managed to place himself in front of the tiger again.

“Little one,” Muarim sighed.

“Hey!” Ike threw up his hands. “I don’t care who the real leader is. A laguz who calls himself a subhuman is protecting a kidnapped beorc who claims to lead a laguz emancipation army? Do I have that right? Because if I do, I have absolutely no idea what any of you are talking about.” He crossed his arms impatiently. “Would someone please tell me what’s going on here?”

The boy eyed Ike curiously. “Fine,” he finally said, motioning that Ike should follow him. “Come in, and I’ll explain.”

Ike nodded and beckoned Mist and Rhys. They approached, both grasping their staves nervously. Ike didn’t need to call Soren and Titania; they were right behind him already. But before he entered, Ike glanced around and noticed Nasir had joined them. He gestured that he should come as well, and Soren frowned.

The six proceeded after the strange boy and limping tiger. Muarim was pulling himself along the wall, leaving a trail of blood, but he’d managed to stand on his own, which was impressive.

“I’m Tormod by the way,” the boy said once they were inside the dim cavern. “I lead the laguz emancipation army!” He seemed to be daring Ike to tell him differently.

“I’m Ike, leader of the Greil Mercenaries. This is my sister Mist, our healer Rhys, our guide Nasir, my strategist Soren, and my second in command Titania.”

“Mercenaries?” Tormod repeated.

“We were hired to eliminate some bandits,” Ike explained, “But you don’t seem like bandits to me.”

Just then, the smell of blood, vomit, and excrement assaulted their noses. They stopped dead in their tracks. Tormod and Muarim kept going, so Ike followed. Soren and the others were right behind him. The tunnel opened into a room dimly lit by torches. The ground was a mess of rags and old canvas. This was where the injured laguz had retreated, and where they were now desperately trying to treat each other’s wounds.

Mist and Rhys rushed to the nearest bodies: a hawk with a badly broken wing and a cat writhing in pain while another tried to force him to drink a vulnerary. Ike didn’t stop the healers from aiding the enemy. Surely that was why he’d brought them in the first place. Soren could only sigh and let it happen. At least he didn’t think this was a trap.

Tormod helped Muarim collapse into a chair next to a wooden table covered in debris. He sat next to him, and Ike and Titania took the remaining two seats. Soren stood against the wall behind Ike. They were in the heart of an enemy base after all; he didn’t think they should all be sitting. Nasir stood behind Titania. 

“Are you going to tell us what’s going on now?” Ike asked impatiently.

Tormod took a steadying breath. “First of all, we’re not bandits. We’re the Laguz Emancipation Army,” he explained. “We began as a coalition of self-freed slaves trying to free other laguz imprisoned by Begnion slaveholders. Now we’ve grown, and we’re determined to eradicate slavery in Begnion forever!”

“Slaves?” Ike repeated in alarm. He glanced around at the injured laguz as if seeing them for the first time.

“That’s right,” Tormod replied with a solemn nod.

“But that’s in the past now!” Titania exclaimed. “Twenty years ago, all slavery was outlawed, and all laguz were freed!” It was just like her to be so optimistic.

“And as far as the general public is concerned, that is exactly what happened,” Nasir surprised them by saying. Soren watched his face carefully. Had he known what they would find in the desert? Was that why he’d joined them today?

“So there’s a portion of society that willingly breaks the law?” Ike asked in disbelief.

“The commoners obey, but there are still many laguz slaves in the homes of nobles,” Tormod explained. “Me and Muarim brought this to the attention of the senators, but they wouldn’t listen. That’s why we gathered other fighters. We break into the homes where slaves are kept and help them escape. Of course, the nobles can’t let this be known publicly, so they brand us thieves and turn us into wanted outlaws.”

“Alright. I think I understand your motives, but you’re not going to solve the basic problem this way,” Ike warned.

“We know that. But we can’t give up and leave them in chains. We can’t and won’t!” Tormod slammed his fists on the table. “The th’ocracy covers it up, but they didn’t just pass the Slave Emancipation Act because it fell out of fashion. Laguz never stopped fighting! For three hundred and seventy-two years, no matter how they got beaten down and punished, they didn’t stop trying to rise up. No way are we gonna stop now!”

“Do you mind if I try to help?” Ike offered, and Tormod stared, confused..

Soren glanced uncertainly at him, wondering if he should intervene. On one hand, Soren could expect nothing else from Ike, whose naivety and willingness to trust made it easy for him to befriend laguz. On the other hand, Soren doubted Ike had spared a single thought to the repercussions for the Greil Mercenaries (or Elincia) if he angered the Begnion elite. Furthermore, they were currently in the service of the empress, and they had to be careful not to betray their client. In the end, however, Soren decided to hold his tongue.

“Huh?” was Tormod’s response to Ike’s offer.

“This sort of beorc behavior is something that’s been bothering me. I think there may be something I can do,” he explained earnestly.

Tormod and Muarim exchanged glances. “You said you’re mercenaries, right?” Tormod began. “What do you think you can do?”

“The apostle is the one who sent us here,” was Ike’s answer. “I’m sure I can get you a direct audience with her.”

Soren was fairly certain Ike had no such power and no grounds on which to promise such a thing. Thinking back to everything Ike had told him about his meetings with the young apostle, Soren assumed she hated him.

However, Sanaki and Sephiran struck Soren as a shrewd pair, even if the former was little more than a child. He considered the possibility that they’d sent the Greil Mercenaries here on purpose, not to wipe out the ‘bandits’ but to uncover the secret army and bring back their leaders for just such an audience. Perhaps this was something the apostle couldn’t count on her own soldiers to do—soldiers whose loyalty was split between her and the senate—just as she couldn’t trust them to end the smuggling of corrupted laguz or seize the evidence she needed.

On the way back to Sienne, Soren shared his suspicions with Ike and Titania. After a few moments’ thought, Titania agreed that Sanaki could be pulling strings. Ike thought a moment longer and eventually said it made sense to him as well. He promised to keep Soren’s warning in mind during the meeting. Soren was comforted to know Ike wouldn’t look like a complete idiot before Sanaki. (There were no such promises for Tormod.)

 

Even by carriage it took several days to reach Sienne. When they arrived, the mercenaries were eager to experience the comforts of Temple Mainal, to which they’d become accustomed these past few months. And yet they didn’t rush off to their plush rooms and baths. Instead they followed Ike, Titania, Nasir, Muarim, and Tormod to the senate’s main chamber. They’d sent a letter ahead, and the empress and her court were waiting.

Although Soren had been permitted in King Gallia’s hall, he had yet to be invited into the empress’s presence. So he had no choice but to wait outside with everyone else. They crowded in the foyer, unable to even press an ear to the doors thanks to the burly guards.

After spending the last few days with Tormod and Muarim, many of the mercenaries had grown fond of the boy and were moved by the plight of the ex-slaves. They were anxious to hear what the decision would be. The few like Soren who were not moved by their hearts were curious to know why they’d been sent to eliminate these people if they weren’t bandits at all, and what would happen now that they’d disobeyed orders.

Soren belonged to the latter category, but he was not so anxious that he would wring is hands at the door. Furthermore he detested crowds, so he moved to the side hallway instead. In the shadows, he leaned against the cool mosaic wall and took a moment to be alone with his thoughts.

Only a few seconds later, however, the sound of approaching steps intruded upon his silence. They ceased but were not accompanied by a voice. Soren’s eyes shot open. “Who goes there?” he asked the gloom.

“No need to be so alarmed.” A man stepped into the light of the adjoining foyer. He had sun-tanned skin, and his hair was an unruly, bright green mane. He wore a strange half-robe over his tunic and a longsword on his belt. “I'm...one of yours.”

“One of ours?” Soren glanced at the mob of mercenaries nearby. “Unlikely.” He’d heard they’d picked up a mysterious swordsman in the Grann Desert, someone unconnected to the so-called Emancipation Army but who’d taken an interest in the mercenaries’ mission. Ike might have let him tag along this far, but Soren was in no mood to make him feel welcome.

“Yes, one of your kind,” the man said slyly, but not unkindly. “I see that you pretend to be something you are not and have lived among foreigners for a long time.”

Soren’s blood ran cold in surprise and horror. “I- I...” He clamped his mouth shut and firmly decided not to respond. This man is just crazy, he thought defiantly.

“Hmm…I see I've puzzled you.” The swordsman smiled. “I'll let you stew on what I have said. Let’s sit and talk next time our paths cross.” Soren didn’t breathe again until the man disappeared among the other mercenaries, taking a place near Lethe on the opposite wall.   It took a several seconds to flush the adrenaline from his blood, and Soren was left feeling hollow and confused. He wanted to leave, but that would feel like defeat. So he fastened his usual impassive expression and rejoined the group. Of course, he moved as far from the swordsman as possible. Here he found the three brothers. “Oscar,” he asked, his tone business-like, “Who is that man over there by Lethe?” Oscar looked over the others’ heads. “Oh, him, he’s new, but Ike said he could join. Apparently he’s some sort of hermit from the desert. His name is Stefan, I think. I’m surprised he’s here. I suppose he must be curious about this whole ‘emancipation army’ thing too.”

“I suppose he is.” Soren nodded curtly.

A moment later, the grand double doors to Mainal Hall creaked opened and the senators filed out, escorted by red-armored guards. The mercenaries scrambled to make way and pretend they hadn’t been eavesdropping. The stuffy old men turned up their noses as they strutted past, but Ike didn’t reappear. The doors closed again, and the mercenaries waited.

After several minutes, the doors finally opened, and Ike, Titania, Nasir, Muarim, and Tormod joined them. “Well?” Soren asked simply.

“She’s given us another mission,” Ike reported, but his brow was furrowed. “She says she will support both the Emancipation Army and Princess Elincia if we succeed.”

“The mission is to investigate one of her own senators, a Duke Oliver Tanas, who did not show up today,” Titania continued. “She suspects him of slaveholding.”

Tormod grinned. “You know, that Empress Sanaki is not all that bad.”

“No, little one, perhaps she is not,” Muarim agreed.

“So anyway, Muarim and I will be joining the team,” Tormod announced energetically. He gave Ike a thumbs-up. “We’ll help you fight this duke guy.”

“We’ll appreciate your aid,” Ike replied.

Those nearest Tormod and Muarim cheered and patted their backs. Then began the mass exodus from the foyer. Tormod ran over to Sothe, who dropped his usual reticence to converse like good friends. Muarim approached Lethe and Mordecai, who chatted easily. Mist started prattling to Ike, and so on. They were all lighthearted as they returned to their cozy rooms.

But Soren’s mind had already turned to the dangers ahead and the preparations that needed to be made. He suspected the apostle wasn’t sending them merely to investigate. Spies were hired to acquire information; mercenaries were hired to do battle. Sanaki must be certain of Duke Tanas’s guilt and intend a rescue. Soren wouldn’t walk into such a mess without a plan.

He then realized he would be planning an assault against a beorc man to save laguz slaves. He shook his head at the audacity of it. He then counted the number of laguz and laguz-lovers who’d joined them since finding Elincia in those woods. The Greil Mercenaries have become quite backward, haven’t we? he mused.