Fire Emblem Fan Fiction ❯ Fire Emblem Tellius Saga: Book 2 ❯ CHAPTER 39: GENERAL ZELGIUS ( Chapter 8 )

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

 Soren, Ike, Titania, Elincia, Tanith, and the other lieutenants arrived in time to see the man who must be General Zelgius marching down Nevassa’s main street with a massive army walking behind him in columns five abreast. Zelgius strode comfortably enough, but the soldiers behind him marched in perfect unison.

Unlike the Begnion troops under Ike’s command, every one of these soldiers was dressed from head to toe in gleaming red armor. Every plate was newly polished and un-scuffed. The horses were freshly groomed, their manes cut in the military style, and their tails bobbed. Their freshly shod hooves clopped rhythmically on the road.

Behind Zelgius marched two standard-bearers, and the man himself was wearing elegantly designed custom armor, although the color was still unmistakably Begnion crimson. He wore a long gold cape and no helmet. A two-handed broadsword was attached to his hip. His hair was blue-black, his eyes narrow, and his cheekbones high. He was clean-shaven and looked surprisingly young despite his size and bearing.

When he came to a halt in front of the main gates, the Begnion commanders snapped to attention, and their posture oozed a sickly kind of respect they’d never shown Ike. 

“I beg your pardon,” General Zelgius said, and Soren wasn’t surprised to hear he spoke with the enunciation of a noble. “Are you General Ike?”

“I am.” Ike’s body language was respectful but cautious. His hand rested on his belt, not far from the hilt of his sword. “And you are?”

“I am Zelgius, Earl of Kadohl. I’ve been dispatched from Begnion with a battalion to support your army.” The man had introduced himself by his earldom instead of his military rank. This was a good sign, an indication that he wasn’t challenging Ike’s place as general of the Crimea Liberation Army. On the other hand, it could also be a false display of submission. 

“Your assistance is much appreciated, but…” Ike took a long look at the army behind him. “This is very unexpected.”

“I understand your surprise,” Zelgius replied, “For Begnion’s imperial Senate, this decision was made with unusual haste.”

Soren narrowed his eyes at the man. Surely Ike had meant to imply the lack of any notice being sent ahead of the army, but Zelgius had chosen to interpret the comment as a casual critique of the theocracy.

For better or worse, Ike chose to follow Zelgius’s diversion. “I imagine so,” he said. “It took forever just to get the soldiers I have now.”

“Well, there’s a reason behind this expedited decision. Duke Persis has returned home.” (He said this as if it were splendid news and perhaps Ike should rejoice with him.)

“You mean Sephiran?” Ike asked, not rejoicing.

“Correct.” Zelgius’s expression was soft but not quite a smile. “Duke Persis is also the senior statesman of the Senate. The Duke returned from his travels and began working immediately to settle pressing affairs of state. He and the Apostle exchanged reports on both foreign and domestic matters, thereby discussing Begnion’s position in relation to the current conflict and possible courses of action. In less than half a day, they brought the entire Senate into line and dispatched us here to you.”

Soren wanted to know what day that had been, and what intelligence had caused them to send so many troops, but he held his tongue. It wasn’t his place to speak out now; Ike had to do the talking.

“…So you’re saying that Begnion has allied itself with Crimea. Is that it?”

Soren allowed the faintest smile cross his lips. It was the right thing to say. Let Zelgius announce, for all to hear, that he was here for Crimea, not for Begnion.

“That’s it exactly. I am at your service, General Ike.” The large man bent his neck and moved gracefully down to one knee.

“Oh- Um…wow,” Ike sputtered incoherently. “Thank you.” Clearly he hadn’t expected this power play to work so easily in his favor.

The smile left Soren’s face. This was too much—Zelgius was play-acting.

When he got to his feet, he was the one who wore the shadow of a satisfied smile. “Now then, please tell me what you would have my men do. I’m ordered to help in any way possible.” He gestured at his awaiting troops.

“Um…” Ike hesitated, and Soren wished he could come to his friend’s aid and begin assigning tasks. But that would undermine what little authority Ike had in this man’s eyes. Once again, he bit his tongue. “You’ve caught me off guard,” Ike admitted. “I can’t think of anything right now.”

“In that case, do I have permission to make camp around the palace and rest my troops?”

“Yes, please do,” Ike answered, “That’s no problem.”

“Thank you. Please do not hesitate to call if you have need of us. We are at your disposal.” Without another word, he proceeded into the castle, with his troops marching behind him. Soren, Ike, and the others stepped out of the way, and Zelgius nodded respectfully to Elincia as he passed. But it wasn’t the display of fealty he should have given. The fact that he hadn’t addressed her or acknowledged her presence until this point was another bad sign.

Zelgius led his men into the castle as if he knew exactly where he was going, and perhaps he did. Perhaps he’d memorized maps of a castle that would one day be his in anticipation of the day Begnion would conquer Daein.

Turning his attention to the soldiers, horses, and wagons filing past, Soren estimated Sanaki and Sephiran had sent ten-thousand reinforcements. Zelgius’s army swamped Ike’s meager garrison by more than ten to one.

When the last servants and foot soldiers had passed, Soren cast his gaze at the city streets. Although they’d begun to refill with people and activity these past few days, they were now deserted again. Doors had been closed and windows shuttered.

“I am going to help Zelgius house his men,” Ike announced. “Let’s resume our meeting in two hours.”

 

For the past couple days, Mia had been teaching swordsmanship lessons to local children, and that was where she’d been when Zelgius had arrived. She returned to the castle in time to see the tail end of the army slither into the castle gates. “Who the heck are they?” she asked, and Soren resigned himself to explaining what’d happened. Not long after, Mist and Rhys, who’d been out picking local herbs, turned up with their baskets, asking the same question.

While Ike helped Zelgius assign his troops beds in the barracks and palace rooms, Titania helped alter the guard schedule and assign soldiers to new posts they hadn’t been able to fill before. Elincia took it upon herself to organize a clean-up of the party remains, enlisting Marcia and Makalov to help her. Perhaps she didn’t want Zelgius to think the army had been getting drunk every night since taking Nevassa.

As rumor of the new arrivals quickly spread, the hungover soldiers and mercenaries emerged from their rooms. Rubbing bleary eyes, they appeared in the halls still in their bedclothes. Then, inevitably, they poured into mess hall looking for food. This was also where a good portion of Zelgius’s troops were headed, undoubtedly hungry after the morning’s march. Soren followed the flow of people, watching their awkward interactions.

The servants who’d travelled with Zelgius’s army swiftly displaced Oscar (and Oscar’s potato-peeling recruits) in the kitchens. Meanwhile the mercenaries stayed on one side of the mess hall and the new arrivals on the other. Ike’s Begnion soldiers sat in the middle, awkwardly trying to merge the two parties.

The veterans asked about Zelgius, not even trying to hide their hero-worship, and the reinforcements shared tales of their journey here. But they were also humble, telling the soldiers hardened by the campaign that they were the true heroes. They asked for battle stories and expressed sympathy at the thousands of lives lost since Tor Garen. 

Soren was satisfied with these interactions. They were the best he could ask for, and he didn’t think discord and resentment would be sewn among the troops. That being said, Ike could still lose his army to General Zelgius and Elincia lose her nation to the apostle, all while believing they were friends.

Rejecting Begnion’s aid would leave the Crimea Liberation Army powerless, and insulting the theocracy in such a way could mean taking up arms against the empire. That would be suicide. However, accepting their aid would mean giving up Crimea, making Elincia no more than a puppet queen (if she was lucky). There seemed no good option here, but Soren was determined to come up with a third way out.

 

Eventually, the time came to return to the parlor and continue their strategy meeting. Tanith and the other lieutenants weren’t here, and Soren could only assume Ike had dismissed them for the rest of the day. This was for the best; from now on, their loyalty would be divided between Ike and Zelgius. It was unsafe to keep them too close.

“Begnion reinforcements…” Titania mused. She was attempting to seem reserved, but she couldn’t hide her happiness. “That was unexpected, wasn’t it?”

“It certainly was!” Ike agreed with relief. “It seems the Apostle and Sephiran did the impossible by getting them to us.”

“All for our little army…” Elincia gripped the table in front of her as if it were keeping her steady. “It’s hard to believe they would go to all this trouble.” She seemed conflicted, as if tied between counting this as a blessing or a curse. Soren was impressed by her instincts. She wasn’t as blinded with relief as Ike and Titania.

“First we take Daein’s capital, and now this. Things are looking up.” Titania continued.

Soren nearly scoffed. Only hours ago, their victory over Daein had been nothing but a disappointing end to a long and wearisome campaign.

“You’re right,” Ike agreed, apparently forgetting the same. “Even if we don’t receive help from Gallia, we may be able to defeat Ashnard.”

“That’s true. It’s…” Elincia sighed, apparently decided to share Ike and Titania’s optimism, “…like a dream.” Despite her words, she still didn’t seem excited.

Soren stared at Ike and tried to assess his expression. Was he putting on a cheery façade for Elincia’s benefit? Had Zelgius said something that had assured him he meant no harm? Or was he simply taking the easy way out by giving Zelgius his trust? Whatever the reason, Soren wouldn’t allow it to continue. He would be Ike’s reason, and he would remind him of the situation. “I have to disagree,” he stated firmly, crossing his arms.

 “Oh, look. Soren is upset again,” Titania joked, “Who knew?” She poked him playfully in the side, and he stiffened, ignoring her touch. “What is it this time?”

“If a Crimean army is not the crux of Daein’s defeat, this war means nothing.” He didn’t take his eyes away from Ike.

“What does that have to do with the arrival of these reinforcements?” Titania attempted a light-hearted voice, but Soren knew she was seeing the sense in his words, even as she resisted it. “We never really had a ‘Crimean’ army anyway…” 

“The battalion that just arrived is double the size of the one we originally received,” Soren explained, “Not only that, but all of these soldiers are marching under Begnion’s name.”

“So?” Ike asked uncomfortably.

Soren proceeded as calmly and seriously as he could: “If these reinforcements are responsible for defeating King Daein, what do you think will happen? That achievement, the victory itself, will belong to the Begnion Empire. Not to Crimea. If that happens, Crimea will be rebuilt however Begnion sees fit, and Princess Elincia will be a mere figurehead. And then, the deeds of an unknown mercenary company will be expertly covered up. We’ll receive some paltry sum of money and be swept under a rug somewhere. Mark my words.”

To Soren’s surprise, the first protest came from Elincia. “Soren, you are being so rude!” she said, gripping the table even harder. She wasn’t even looking at him, instead staring at the tabletop. “Surely the Apostle, of all people, would never do such a thing!”

She’d broken her moratorium on condemning his rudeness, but he didn’t care. He didn’t even think she meant it. The hysterical edge in her voice told Soren she knew he was right.

“And this General Zelgius seems sincere enough to me,” Ike added. He rubbed the back of the neck as if the tension were giving him a headache.

“Come, Soren,” Titania scolded, “I have heard of situation like that which you describe, but whether this is such a case…” She shook her head. “We’ve been fortunate to receive this good will. Must we always search for such ulterior motives?”

Soren refused to yield. “Yes,” he answered emphatically. “We must.” He was trying to remain calm, but he couldn’t stop his voice from rising. “Have you forgotten Nasir? It’s that sort of naïve attitude that allowed him to remain undetected for so long! You people don’t seem to get it. We are at war! All doubts, no matter how small, must be extinguished. If they aren’t, we could well be ignoring something that will lead to our defeat—and our death.”

That seemed to resonate with Ike. Titania and Elincia seemed appropriately chastised, but it was Ike whose expression changed the most. “Let’s take Soren’s comments under consideration and discuss this at length. We meet again in one hour.”

 

Soren was annoyed that today’s strategy meeting seemed like a never-ending one, but he was willing to be patient if that was what it took for Ike and the others to see reason. He went to the mess hall again, this time to actually get something to eat. He hardly needed to wait. The servants had taken a firm hand of the facilities and were churning out dishes for whatever soldier or mercenaries turned up. He sat with a few of the other mercenaries and listened to gossip about the new arrivals. Nothing was said that was of value.

When it was time, Soren returned to the parlor.

 

“I agree with Soren,” Ike announced once everyone had arrived. Titania looked surprised, but Elincia looked like she agreed as well. He continued: “We need to proceed cautiously, but I will not deny Begnion’s aid either. That would look bad and, frankly, we can use them.”

Soren nodded. Ike’s assessment was correct, and at this point, he didn’t have a specific solution anyway.

“For now…” Ike sad down with his elbows on the table and his right fist in his left hand. “I would like to investigate that Palmeni Temple Nasir mentioned. Sothe is from here, so I sent him out to investigate.  He found it easily enough, and it’s nearby.”

“Are you sure that is wise?” Titania asked.

“How can we trust anything Nasir said?” Elincia seconded.

Ike shrugged. “I just…have a feeling.”

Soren considered the matter. Now that Zelgius’s army had arrived, they could safely leave the castle without it falling back into Daein hands. And he was as curious as anyone to understand Nasir’s treachery. “At the very least,” he began, “it will give us an opportunity to see General Zelgius’s reaction when we tell him to stay behind.” He gave Ike a small conspiratorial smile.

Ike return the expression, grinning as if the four of them were the holders of an exciting secret. “I’ll go tell Zelgius then. Don’t worry, I’ll be subtle. I’ll say we’re going on a survey mission and don’t require large numbers. You three begin assembling the Greil Mercenaries.”

Soren, Titania, and Elincia stood to leave, but Ike remained seated. To Soren’s surprise, his smile fell as soon as he thought no one was looking. Once Titania and Elincia had exited, Soren closed the door behind them. “Is something wrong?” he asked.

Ike shook his head. “I don’t like this. I believed in trust until this whole mess with Nasir.”

Soren said nothing.

“Now, I find myself thinking that I should suspect Zelgius more just because I like him.” Ike leaned back in his chair and ran his hands over his face.

Soren supposed he should say something to put his friend at ease. “It was never my intention to cause you to second guess yourself. You are a fine commander and our survival thus far has been due to your instincts.”

Ike’s sighed, unconvinced. “You kept trying to tell me there was a spy… Did you know it was Nasir?”

Soren was suddenly uncomfortable. “I never had any proof.”

“I should’ve let you have your inquisition.” He lifted his head.

“I did not think you were listening when I suggested such a thing.”

“I didn’t want to hear it.” He sighed again. “I didn’t want you rounding up my friends and questioning everyone. And really, I didn’t want to believe it could be possible… I’m sorry. You were right.”

 “I was wrong too,” Soren admitted. “About Zihark, Sothe, Jill, and probably Tauroneo. Statistically speaking, your willingness to trust has earned you far more allies than enemies.”

Ike’s expression actually brightened, and he offered a small smile. “I suppose.”

“If you would like to investigate General Zelgius and his army further, why not leave some of our troops behind? This may be a prime opportunity for Tauroneo to prove himself,” he continued, warming to the plan as he gave it. “His familiarity with Daein will be an asset to General Zelgius and our efforts to pacify the surrounding regions. He would never have become one of King Ashnard generals if he weren’t a capable and observant man.”

Ike seemed to like the idea. “You’re brilliant, Soren, but I don’t think I’ll leave Tauroneo in charge. Not that I don’t trust him, but I think I would like you to stay and spy on Zelgius.”

“Me?” Soren asked, confused and slightly annoyed that he wouldn’t be on the forefront of finding whatever secrets Nasir expected them to find at Palmeni Temple.

“Yeah, you, Tauroneo, and let’s see…Muarim, Tormod, Jill, and Marcia.” Ike counted off his fingers. “Stay for the afternoon, keep a low profile, and watch how they behave with me and the mercenaries gone. Just make sure you join us at Palmeni Temple by sundown.”

“If you are sure.” Soren bowed his head respectfully. “I will gather the others and explain the mission.”

“Right, now I should go announce our little mission to General Zelgius.” Ike stood and once more looked the part of a gleeful co-conspirator.

Soren watched him go and found himself hoping Ike wasn’t putting on a bright face for him just as he had for Titania and Elincia. But he also knew his paltry attempt at comfort couldn’t have been nearly as effective as Ike had made it seem.

When he was gone, Soren went to the window, where he could see soldiers and mercenaries mingling in the courtyard below. Looking over the wall, he could see the roofs and gables of a Nevassan neighborhood. He recognized this opportunity for what it was. Ike and the majority of the mercenaries would be gone. Those remaining would be kept busy. New soldiers would be on guard, and they wouldn’t know to be suspicious if he left the castle. These were ideal circumstances to find Galina.

 

After giving Tauroneo, Muarim, Tormod, Jill, and Marcia their instructions, Soren left them to do their work. He dressed in civilian clothes (or what he judged a poor townsperson might wear) and tied on a simple brown cloak with a deep hood. As an added precaution, he stole a knit hat from some soldier’s belongings and hoped it didn’t contain lice. But it was worth the risk to hide his Brand—he didn’t wish to attract attention as either a mage in the invading army or a half-laguz monstrosity.

He told the guard at the gate that he was running an errand and expected to return within an hour. The guard had no idea who he was and gave a simple, “Whatever, kid,” in reply.

The townsfolk were still hiding after seeing the Begnion troops this morning, and Soren hardly saw a soul as his feet carried him along eerily familiar paths. Eventually he found Galina’s house. The shack was in worse condition than he’d imagined, and its neighbors along the deserted street fared no better. He wondered if anyone lived here at all.

But when he stepped in front of the door, he heard voices beyond: quick, sharp tones and slack, uneducated accents. When he knocked, a haggard woman came to the door. “What?” she demanded. She was wearing a dirty apron, her hands were covered in blood up to her elbows, and she carried a butcher’s knife. Soren took a surprised step back. But then he noticed the carcass, barely recognizable as a dog, that lay open on the table behind her. The corpse was surrounded by four skinny children who hovered like scavengers. The youngest was crying, holding a filth-incrusted collar in his hands. An old woman sat in a chair behind them, but she was not Galina.

“What?” the woman demanded again. Soren returned his gaze to her.

“I am looking for someone named Galina. She used to live here.”

“Hell if I know her,” the woman spat. “Now leave me alone. Don’t you know Begnion invaded us?  Stay out of sight and stay away from my house. I don’t wanna give them a reason to mess with us.” She tried to close the door, but Soren stuck his boot in the threshold to stop it. The woman opened it again, even angrier now.

“You’d better clear out of here before things get messy,” she threatened, waving the knife. Soren, however, had faced too many trained soldiers with swords to be threatened by this woman.

“This used to be her house. You must know what happened to her,” Soren pressed.

The woman narrowed her eyes. “Don’t know what you’ve heard, but the gold’s all gone—the bit the old crone left under the floorboards. Been gone for years.”

“Gold?” Soren repeated. “I asked about Galina.”

“Dead. Dead and gone. Didn’t you know?” the woman replied hotly.

Soren shook his head. That was it then.

“Galina?” rose a weak voice in the room. “You’re talkin’ about Galina the midwife?”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Not talkin’ about anything Ma-ma.”

“G’ina was the woman what did deliver you, you ungrateful brat,” the woman spat. “Show some respect.”

“Leave. Now,” the woman told Soren.

“No,” the old woman said, sounding particularly ornery. “Let the boy in.”

“No, Ma-ma.”

“I said let him in. I’ll talk to him!” This was followed by a rickety sound that might have been the legs of the chair or the old woman’s bones.

The daughter sighed audibly and opened the door wider. Soren entered, albeit warily. She turned right around and began hammering away at the carcass. The little boy started crying again. Soren approached the old woman. He had to get closer than he would have liked to hear her over the sound of chopping.

“What you want to know, kid?” the old woman growled. She was grotesque and smelled of urine. Soren knew she was speaking to him only to get on her daughter’s nerves.

“You called her Galina the midwife? I knew her as a knitter,” Soren began.

“You would. You’re young.” The woman sucked in a long, thin breath and continued in a rasp. “Used to be the best midwife in Nevassa. Not a baby died on her watch. But ol’ Galina got into some kinda of trouble. Got stuck carin’ for some cursed child. No one’d trust her after that. She got old, arthritic, rotten.” The woman grinned, showing off her few remaining teeth. “Like me I suppose.” 

“Why would she care for a cursed child?” Soren asked, feigning ignorance.

The old woman squinted suspiciously. “What do you care? You’re hardly old enough to’ve known her.”

“What was the money your daughter mentioned?” Soren changed the subject.

The woman shrugged. “No one knew for sure.” She drew another labored inhale, and her breath was like the Serenes forest’s poison gas. “G’ina was a gambler. Dog fighting. Had a lot of debt around the time she started takin’ care of that imp. All a sudden, her debts got paid. And she never was in much need for money after that. Everyone s’pposed she had a pile of gold in this here house. An’way, one day she fin’ly rid herself of the child. Things kept goin’on this way. But then three, no a’most four years ‘go now, there’s a rumor of some woman comin’ by in the dead o’night. Now there was just one witness. Ol’ Samis the cobbler. Been drinking a lot that night, so no one knows if this woman was real or not. But story goes that she got in an arg’ment with ol’ Galina. Sayin’ she broke her deal. Some think they was talkin’ about the demon child.”

The woman fell into a fit of coughing. As she caught her breath, Soren listened to the thump of the woman’s knife, the sizzle of dog meat hitting the fire, and the crying of the boy, and it was like he was hearing these sounds for the first time. His palms grew clammy, and his skin prickled. Did my mother come back for me? he dared wonder.

“What then?” he prodded, impatient for more.

“Then Galina got poor again. One way or another. Got poor and sick, and her knittin’ wasn’t worth nothin’. She died a year later, and everybody stormed her house lookin’ for a pile of gold. After that, my daughter’s idiot husband moved us here. Found a couple gold coins in the floor, but that’s it. I knew we wouldn’t find much.”

Soren nodded his understanding.

“You finish all your story-tellin’, Ma-ma?” the woman asked, turning to them and wiping her hands on her apron.

“You just can’t wait for me to die,” the old woman shot back.

The daughter gestured to Soren and then to the door. “You. Out.”

Soren didn’t have to be told twice and left without another word. When he returned to the castle, the guard on duty just waved him back through.

 

He went to his room, where he waited for each of Ike’s spies to make their reports. He tried to spend this time thinking of a solution to Crimea and Begnion’s power struggle, but he had a hard time concentrating. His mind kept turning over what the old woman had said.

If Galina had been paid to take care of him, then someone must have cared if he was alive. If that old woman’s memory was correct, then someone had been funneling gold to Galina for fifteen years. Suddenly remembering the haircut she’d given him before Sileas had taken him away, he realized she must have made those strands last for years. They were proof of his existence. Someone had wanted proof. Someone had come back for him—and they might still be out there. They might still want him. It was such a foreign idea, Soren didn’t even know how to feel about it.

Eventually Jill knocked on his door, tearing him from the cycle of his thoughts. “Well?” he asked once she was inside.

She rubbed her arms uncomfortably. “I don’t know why you chose me for this…”

“Ike chose you, doubtless because he knows your situation gives you unique insight,” Soren lied. In truth, he suspected Ike had chosen Jill and Marcia solely so their flying steeds wouldn’t be seen as they crept up on Palmeni Temple.

“Okay, well, anyway. I did what you said and asked General Zelgius if he would grant me furlough to visit Talrega.”

“Did you mention your father’s grave?” Soren cut in.

“Yeah I did,” she answered in annoyance.

“And how did he react?”

“He was surprised to know I was from Daein, let alone a landholder.”

“Did it seem like he was faking his surprise? May he have already known this?”

Jill shook her head. “He seemed genuine, and genuinely concerned too. He said he was sorry for my loss and that he understood the ‘challenging position I must have been in,’ or something like that.”

“Hmm,” Soren nodded, “And how did he respond to your request?”

“He said I would have to bring it up with Ike, that it wasn’t his jurisdiction.”

Soren nodded. It was the correct answer for Zelgius to give. “Anything else?”

Jill sighed. “He said that even though he hasn’t known Ike long, he thinks he’s a real good guy. He even said he would talk to Ike on my behalf if I wanted.”

“And how did he refer to Ike?” Soren pushed, searching for anything incriminating in Zelgius’s behavior.

“You mean as ‘General Ike’?”

“Yes, is that how he said it?”

Jill nodded. “Anything else? Like I said, I’ve never really done anything like this before.”

“That will be all,” he replied dismissively.

Jill turned to the door but then hesitated. “You know I don’t actually want to go back to Talrega, right? I want to go with Ike and everybody to Crimea, to kick Ashnard where it hurts.”

“I know. It was merely a ruse meant to elicit responses we can analyze. However, please do not tell anyone what you have done today.”

“Well, I don’t want people thinking I’m going leave them.” Now she was angry.

Soren was impatient for her to go. “Then let’s hope Zelgius and his men aren’t gossips.”

She made a frustrated sound in her throat but said nothing more. Yanking the door open and closing it roughly, she was gone. 

 

A short while later Tormod and Muarim turned up. The mage scuttled into the room as if trying to be stealthy, and the tiger’s long gait carried him in normally.

“Were you able to speak to Zelgius?” Soren asked.

“Oh, we got him talking alright,” Tormod answered with a grin and crossed arms.

“And were you on-topic?” Soren asked pointedly.

“I asked him all about his political views on laguz and slavery and stuff,” Tormod answered proudly.

“He jumped him,” Muarim clarified. “I believe Sir Zelgius thought he was on trial.”

Soren shook his head. “I should have known better than to expect subtlety.”

Tormod shrugged. “Don’t worry, he was cool about it.”

“He answered Tormod’s questions without protest,” Muarim translated. “I was surprised by his respectful and diplomatic tone. He is like Empress Sanaki, I think. He truly wishes to see the rift between laguz and beorc healed.”

“And did you remember to ask about Princess Elincia, the late King Ramon, Crimea’s alliance with Gallia?”

Tormod nodded three times. “Yes, yes, and yes. He says the Crimean royal family has set a really good example, and he hopes Begnion will one day have such rich ties with Gallia and the bird tribes.”

“And did he imply a future in which Crimea and the Crimean royal family continue to exist?” Soren urged.

“Uh…” Tormod looked confused. “I think so? I mean, why wouldn’t it?”

Soren turned to Muarim, hoping the tiger would offer a clearer answer.

“I believe so,” he agreed. “Although, you must admit it is a peculiar question.”

“Alright.” Soren waved to dismiss them. “That’s fine. Just remember not to tell anyone why you were asking those questions.”

Muarim gripped the door handle while Tormod gave Soren two thumbs up. “We were just checking to make sure this General Zelgius guy is on the up-and-up, right? Some of those Begnion dukes and earls are really bigoted stuffed-shirts. It’s great that Ike wants to check this guy out first.”

“Indeed,” Soren agreed simply, and Muarim ushered the young mage out. Soren sat down, suddenly feeling exhausted, as often happened after a conversation with Tormod.

  

An hour later, Marcia visited him, having been mingling with Zelgius’s soldiers all afternoon. She had nothing useful to report, and Soren soon dismissed her. “Sorry,” she said before she left, “But I don’t really know what I was looking for.”

Soren checked the position of the sun and knew evening would come soon. Ike wanted him and the others to meet them at Palmeni Temple before sunset, but Soren still had to meet with Tauroneo. His report would be the most valuable.

Finally the ex-general arrived. He was wearing his armor, although his shield and helmet were absent. Soren had recommended he don it, because Zelgius appeared fond of wearing his own armor around the castle.

“Did he accept your aid?” Soren asked immediately.

Tauroneo took a seat and sighed. “Aye, he did.”

“And how did he react? Did he seem amenable? What did you discuss?” 

“He was quite easy to talk to actually. He accepted my offer and sought my advice on several maps of the region, asking me to correct inaccuracies and mark army outposts.” He rubbed his mustache as he continued. “He asked about the deployment of soldiers in the region prior to the battle here in Nevassa. Asked me about the battle too, come to think of it. He wanted to hear about the campaign from both sides—Daein and Crimean—and to provide insight into General Ena’s defensive and offensive strategies. He asked me to describe how these compared to regular Daein tactics, and so on. Nothing struck me as particularly suspicious.” He waved his hand through the air. “Honestly, he seemed like an experienced general attempting to understand his enemy and his terrain.”

“And the Crimea Liberation Army? Ike? Was he attempting to understand them as well?”

Tauroneo adjusted his weight in the chair. “Aye, he was. But again, I don’t think he is out of bounds in doing so. General Ike has been on the road many months, fighting the Daein Army all the while. Now General Zelgius must play catch-up.”

“To what end?” Soren asked, thinking aloud: “Catching up is not enough for men like Zelgius. They must overtake their rivals.”

“Must Zelgius and Gawain’s son be rivals?” Tauroneo’s voice was thoughtful. “I have considered it myself.”

“What else did you observe?”

Tauroneo cleared his throat. “Only that his plans are ambitious. He seeks the pacification of the region, and his notion of the ‘region’ is quite far reaching.”

“And his notion of ‘pacification’?” Soren raised an eyebrow.

Tauroneo lifted both hands. “You know as well as I…the man brought many soldiers with him.”

“For the liberation of Crimea,” Soren baited. 

“I am sorry, he was not asking me to consult on maps of Crimea.”

“I’m not certain whether that is a good or a bad thing…” Soren replied contemplatively.

Tauroneo cracked a smile. “Serious matters aside, I must say I am impressed by both Gawain’s son and his aide. For such young boys, you are both handling so much.”

Soren gave Tauroneo a pointed look, hoping to convey the fact that neither he nor Ike needed the old general’s approval. After a sufficient pause he asked, “Is there anything else?”

“If I may make one more note, though perhaps I overstep my role as a simple spy.”

Soren gestured that he should continue.

“Zelgius is, above all else, a soldier. That, I can see clearly. He will do what he has been ordered to do, and what he will be ordered to do. Nothing more, no less.”

“So to know if he is a threat, I must know the desires of Begnion’s apostle and prime minister.” Soren suddenly found himself wishing he’d paid more attention in Sienne. He had never been invited to a senate meeting, but perhaps he should have asked to attend. Both in Crimea and Begnion, he’d only seen Sephiran in passing. Perhaps he should have tried to learn more about him.

“Your answer would be multifaceted,” Tauroneo replied thoughtfully. “I am sure there are many layers to the prerogative of such eminent theocrats.”

“I agree.” Soren sighed. “Now, if you will gather the others, Ike would like us to join him at Palmeni Temple as soon as possible.”

“A fight?” Tauroneo nodded and stood. “It’s a good thing I’m wearing my armor.”