Chapter One - A Loss of Home
Some mistakes/inconsistencies were fixed from when this was first published.
In the darkness of night, stars twinkled as pinpoints of light both above and below. All was quiet, but a shaft of light appeared along something long and metal as it moved, and then gentle padding could be heard moving for the city walls.
Some monstrous construction of metal and wood towered to the sky, a huge sling hanging currently limp, a beast of war that sat purring in a lump in the quiet meadow, totally out of place. And alone. They usually never came alone.
All of it happened at once, as though someone had turned on the lights to see hell before them. The sling pulled taut, and something crashed through a heavy iron gate that should never have been broken, and men poured in, clothing dyed black, armour greased dark and riding horses of dark coats so as to blend into the night, long enough, just long enough...
The catapult, rolling forward slowly, as its use was almost done, its protection no longer needed, shot something else, a barrel, that a man inside the city shot with a lit arrow, which exploded and ripped a wall out of a nearby building, killing one of the knights in black. Other such barrels flew at them, and the city became slowly engulfed in flames.
Princess Hilda was woken by her maid, a tiny slip of a girl with thick, wavy hair that she usually had tightly pinned back, but hung loose and in tangles, matching her frightened eyes.
"Sera, what is wrong?" Hilda asked, already pushing herself up, the thick silk duvet falling down around her.
Seraphina pulled Hilda's robes closer together. "You have to hurry and make yourself decent. Your father is asking for you, there is an emergency–"
"Calm down," Hilda ordered, grabbing both of the girl's shoulders firmly. "You say he asks for me? What kind of emergency is it?"
"There are Palamecian soldiers, and we all need to leave, please hurry–"
"Quiet," Hilda muttered, peeling back the rest of her sheets and swinging her legs out. "I'm hurrying..."
And true to her word, albeit not her tone of voice, Hilda did hurry. If there was an evacuation, then she would probably have to ride. Hilda had once asked Scott of Kas'ion for some of his old clothes, ones he'd worn as a boy, to wear for her riding lessons. Although Kashuon women generally dressed as they pleased, Scott had at first refused, saying he wanted to return her to her father as lady-like as ever. But when her skirts proved too heavy, and she slipped sideways from her saddle for leaning too heavily on the side where she'd propped her legs, Scott had given them to her, saying he also wanted to return her to her father un-bruised.
"Sera, pack me some clothes, would you? My other boots, gloves, some coats and hats..." she rattled off a list, thinking the girl might be too panicked and jittery not to forget. Hilda's hands finally dug under the last of her under dresses to find where she'd placed Scott's clothes out of sight and pulled them out, leaving her undergarments to fall in a mess to the floor.
"My lady," Seraphina moaned at the sight.
Hilda knew she was referring to the breeches, but she said, "Don't worry, this place might burn up, and there's no time to put those back. How much underwear do I need on the run, anyhow?"
She pulled on the clothes, the heavier ones of midnight blue, which should protect her some from the cold, but might also make her hard to see this late, dropped a similar outfit to the floor, and rolled the other breeches and tunics into a tight ball and gave them to Sera. "Pack these. But don't pack too much."
Hilda helped with the gathering of the clothes, squashing a remark from Sera with, "We haven't time, do we?" then ordered Sera into the other breeches and tunic. The girl grumbled, but complied, and Hilda tightened one last boot strap, threw on a cloak, thinking to grab a handful of jewels and toss them into her bag before leaving.
She had guessed her father to be in the war chamber for such a time, and as none of the guards responded to the two women scurrying down the halls, was glad to see him and a few of his advisors gathered around the table. King Albert of Phin rose stiffly and embraced his daughter, leaned back to eye the breeches and gave her a raised eyebrow, but no more. Really, there wasn't much he could complain about – they were royal clothes, suited to a prince, and Hilda always thought she looked fine in them. Maybe she could even tie back her hair and attempt to pass as a boy.
"There is an emergency?"
Albert nodded. "We don't know for sure who is attacking, but we believe it is the Palamecian army. It is unsafe here. You must ride."
"I must stay and help you defend the palace." She knew he'd say no, but she felt she had to argue anyway, even after getting ready to leave.
One of the other men in the room stood. "No. If anything happens to your father, which might, as he insists on staying himself, the country falls to you. You must lead us."
Hilda turned to see him. Sebastian von Audisburg, a ducal house near enough to the palace. "How dare you even suggest His Majesty's death!" Hilda snapped. "Why, that's nearly treasonous in itself!"
Sebastian gave her a courtly bow that seemed out of place. "I apologize. I meant no disrespect; of course I pray as much as any here for His Majesty's welfare. I only meant to be practical."
Hilda glanced around the room, saw all eyes fixed on her, Mihn, and Jochem, and others, and worried she had acted too much the "easily outraged princess". Still, she would not let one such as Sebastian have the last word. "No one here prays for my father's life half as much as I do. You may be wise to remember that, von Audisburg." She turned to her father. "It is my duty to comply with you. Still, I worry –"
"You have no need. Many good knights will accompany me when we make our leave, as I must. For now, I would like you and your ladies to get safely away from Phin."
"Yes, father."
"Sir Sebastian will be going with you," her father added, "and a squad of palace guards, for your safety." She nodded, glad she had put Sebastian in his place. He may be protecting her, but she would be in charge, she would see to that.
Her father whispered, "I know you hate this, but bear it for me. Many children will accompany you, and it will be up to you to comfort all those whose mothers are not here. Yes, it sounds unglamorous, but most jobs do. I trust you have a kind enough soul to be good to the little ones. It will be a distraction away from your guards."
She nodded, allowed Sebastian to take her bag, and followed him out to the stables. Another minute was wasted on an argument over her horse, eventually leaving her trading in the small mare he had suggested, who didn't look as though she would last, for a destrier that had recently been put out to pasture. A few months of gentle work had left the gelding jumping for action, and Hilda practised her firm hand as she stayed within the circle of Phinian knights. The view of Phin left a painful lump in her throat that she refused to let out. I will not cry, she told herself.
A carriage sat waiting, a small mound of supplies that looked to be bags of food and tied up blankets, nothing more, tied on top. Noble women in disarray and a horde of children scurried. Hilda sighed, dismounting from her horse to help in her duty. She got them inside, comforting a few children much too young to be without a caretaker, and called upon a few ladies she knew to watch them with their own children, eventually sending Sera in to watch the rest.
"Highness, you should go in too."
"I want to see the damage to the city," Hilda replied, closing the door and sliding down the bar. She mounted her horse again and waited, unwilling to argue this point.
Sebastian gave her an angry look and assigned two guards to either side of her. "As it seems her Highness is unwilling to crowd herself in with a bunch of infants and instead chooses to risk her life to assess damage she cannot possibly comprehend, you will make sure she does not get hurt." He looked Hilda in the eye. "Stay behind the guards, or I swear on the oath I made to your father to protect you, I will throw you into the carriage, whether you want to be there or not."
Hilda's lips tightened around the edges in an attempt not to grin. Her amusement showed in her eyes as she held tightly to her horse's reins, keeping him next to her guards as they rode, much slower in order to keep pace with the slow-rolling carriage.
"Heavens," she finally muttered. "It is a pity we don't teach everyone to ride, so we'd have little need for such a thing at a time like this."
Sebastian, surprisingly, only nodded. "They should make it mandatory. Perhaps you could suggest it to the king."
Hilda mused that silently until they came around the bend in the palace wall, revealing the horrific and awesome sight of Phin, at her most spectacular, still in one piece, in all her glory, but wreathed in flame, tinting the sky orange. "Good gods," Hilda muttered. They had nearly missed this, for in a few seconds, ceilings began to collapse, and Hilda saw the bell tower fall, its foundation crumbling to nothing and the walls seeming to explode outwards from a rock being catapulted into its other side. Bricks flew through the air, shattered and spreading like dust, and the bell made a loud peal as if in response to all the deaths that it would normally have acknowledged one by one, but no longer had such time. It hit the steeple of a temple and seemed to break, and the sound was gone in an instant.
It took Hilda a moment to remember herself, and when she came to, she saw Sebastian held her reigns, leading her horse forward. "I'm sorry," she muttered. "I was lost."
"Is that the sight you wanted to see?"
"It will all be gone, won't it?"
He nodded. "The Palamecian soldiers will have left the city by now. They could come this way. We should hurry."
The princess and her guards rushed off into the night, the carriage racing along behind its two stout horses on shaky wheels.
Frioniel, or Firion, heard banging that entered his dream. Suddenly, there was a giant thing stomping its way towards him. He froze in fear, knowing that in the next step he would be crushed.
"FIRION!" He jerked, woke up to still hear the banging, and wasn't sure if he had actually woken up until he hit the floor. "Unlock your door!"
He got up, wincing at a pain in his hip, and unlocked the door, peeking out at Leonheart. "Leon?"
"The house next door is on fire."
"What?"
"You wake up Guy. I'm going to get Maria."
Waking up Guy was easier said than done. Guy was a bit odd in the way he understood things, "special" was the term his mother used, and Firion didn't want to scare him, so he said, "We're playing a game, Guy. It's where you need to follow us when we run around outside."
"It's late," Guy pointed out. He watched Firion from his bed as the other boy ran back and forth throughout the room, pulling out clothes from the dresser they shared, throwing on some of his and tossing a warm outfit to Guy.
"That's the fun in it," he said, pulling their coats off the coat rack near the door. "You can't always see too well. So you gotta stick close."
"Can I play?" Guy asked.
"Okay, but you gotta put on these clothes. You don't want to get cold outside." Firion pulled on his boots and went downstairs. From the window above the dining room table, a hazy pink-yellow glow could be seen reflecting off nearby walls.
Maria pounded down the hall to their parents' room. "Mama, Papa!" She shook her mother.
"Maria, what are you doing in here?"
"The neighbourhood is on fire. Leon came and got me. He says we need to get out of the house. The fire is spreading." Her mother nodded and started shaking her husband. Maria ran to the railing, looking down over it to the living room and kitchen. "Is there still time for me to get dressed?"
"Yeah," Firion answered. "Leon's outside. He says he'll tell me if the fire comes any closer."
Maria threw on some clothes, then found Guy coming out of his room, stopped him to finish buttoning his shirt and coat and to retie a shoelace – normally, they would just tell him, but there was no time to wait for him to do it right. "You'll trip with your laces like that," she said lightly, getting up and going downstairs with him.
"Are you playing too?"
"I guess so," she answered.
Leon burst in the house, eyes wild. "The fire's on the roof?" Firion guessed.
"Palamecian knights!" Leon said, sounding a little confused.
"What do you mean, Palam–" Leon grabbed Firion and pulled him under the table cloth at the sound of armour clanking outside. Maria jumped into the closet nearby, pulled Guy in with her.
"What are you doing?"
"This is part of the game," Maria whispered.
"Frio never said."
"He probably forgot. Now shh. If you talk, you lose."
A black helm peeked through the open doorway and a few knights walked in. They did look Palamecian, Maria thought, although there was no specific colouring or emblems on them to know for sure. They walked around the living room, coming close enough to the table that Maria held her breath.
A sound upstairs made her heart skip a beat. Mama, papa! she yelled in her head. Don't come downstairs.
She glanced through the opening between the slightly open closet door and the side of the wall to see her mother's face in the shadows. Her father stood behind her, just behind the wall.
"Maria, I don't want stay in here anymore," Guy said, a little too loudly.
"Quiet," she breathed.
A knight asked, "You hear that?" and one was already clomping up the stairs.
"No, no, no..." Maria sobbed. She saw Leon peek out from under the table cloth, behind the second knight, start to climb out.
Maria didn't think her father had heard Guy, or ever really understood why his wife did what she did, but when the knight got to the top of the stairs, was about to turn to the closet, she ran by him. The knight turned, ran her through in an instant, and then Leon was there, fighting him off. Maria grabbed Guy's hand and ran down the stairs, past her mother, grabbed her bow and quiver, and when downstairs, looked up to see two more figures collapsed on the ground: the knight, and her father. A drop of blood dripped to the floor below.
She dodged the swing of the second knight, who was caught off guard by the sudden injury of his companion, and the four teens ran out into the fiery city. Maria clung hard to Guy's hand, hoping he would drag her along if she couldn't keep up.
"Too fast?" he asked her when she began to lag.
"No, not fast enough. Carry me, Guy? I want to feel...how it is...to run fast...like you..." she explained, panting heavily, and he picked her up and she felt her long hair flutter behind her as she clutched his shoulders, looking over them at Firion and Leon as they chased after the much faster Guy.
They ran near to the bell tower, and Maria screamed as the wall exploded outward over their heads. "Left! Go left, Guy!" Maria yelled. Guy went left down a street away from the falling debris. He stopped as Firion and Leon caught up with him.
"Is it my turn to follow now?" he asked.
"Uh...y-yeah...okay..." Firion straightened and took a deep breath, then ran tiredly down the small alley. Leon caught up with him as Guy trailed comfortably close behind.
"Are you alright? Do you want me to carry you?" Leon joked.
"I think I can manage," he snapped back.
Just outside the city walls, there was a catapult, mostly unmanned, and a few knights on horses. The knights looked at them as they ran by, one of their own appearing not long after and pointing at them. Four of them detached themselves from the rest of the group to chase down the kids, for whatever it was they had done.
The horsemen galloped around them and faced them on all sides. Leon drew his sword, and Firion his knives. They stood no chance; a few sword swings and the two were lying in blood. Guy stared confusedly at the knight before him, who brought down his club hard and cracked into Guy's shoulder. Maria was dropped, and she crawled along the ground, away, away from them...
She glanced over, saw the club coming down again at Guy. She stood, fingers shaking as she strung her bow, and before the club hit a third time, she propped up her bow, glancing over the fallen bodies of her brothers to stare at the one who so mercilessly attacked her sweetest brother...the others had fought back, so fight them, yes, but Guy? Don't fight Guy. She pulled back an arrow, aimed for the space in his visor, and shot it, watched it bury itself into the face behind it, snarled, "Take that, you son of a bitch!" And that was when another mounted knight rode at her, lunged his spear at her, and she didn't dodge in time.
Maria lay on the ground, looking up at the starry sky, and saw a helmeted face appear over her. Then she heard Leon yell, "Stay...away...from my sister!" and a blade smacked uselessly against the thick, dark armour, knocking the soldier just a little off-balance. She smiled at the fact Leon was fighting for her, he was protecting her, and she drifted off with that...Leon was protecting her...and she was gone.
The general in charge stood in the ruined palace courtyard the next morning, eyeing the fire-blackened palace walls. "They won't be pleased with all the damage," he said to himself, referring to his superiors.
"Well, then, they can scream themselves into a fit until they explode," muttered the soldier next to him. "They have no idea how hard it was to do this little damage. This is a war here. They can fix it."
"Yeah, yeah."
A soldier was laid on the ground nearby, as was customary for all who died in battles, covered with a sheet.
"Just the one, I presume?" the general asked.
The soldier saluted. "Yes, sir."
"Funny," the general said. "That's one too many. How did he die?"
"Appears he was blown up, sir. By one of our own barrels, I would say."
The general turned to the man who had been firing the flaming arrows. The archer gulped under his gaze, knowing exactly how the soldier had died, having been blown up by the first barrel he'd lit.
"You're responsible for his death," the general said mildly. "You didn't pay attention before firing."
"Yes, sir."
"I suppose I should kill you, but I don't want to lose two. You understand, of course. Don't mess up again." The man nodded quickly. The general pondered what punishment would be most suitable, then.
A high-ranking knight walked up, holding a young boy in chains. He was dirty, his shirt covered in mud and blood-stains, and he appeared to be Phinian.
"Kill him," the general ordered. "I don't want any hostages. They're a pain in the ass."
"He's a good fighter, sir. Perhaps the emperor could...you know...convince him to join us. To replace him." The knight nodded at the dead man.
The general mulled it over. Palamecia was an army of technology and skill, not man power. Every soldier they lost was a great deal, and he'd been told he would be spared no more replacements for a few months. "A good fighter, you say? Alright, then." He turned to the previously offending soldier. "Well, I guess this means I can afford to kill you." In one motion, he had drawn his sword and cut off the man's head. "Let that be a lesson," he said to his newer recruits. "With or without replacements, I do not tolerate mistakes." He cleaned his sword on the man's shirt, ordered them to leave him where he lay, and sheathed it, walking away to sit down at the old pub and have a drink.
