A/N: After talking about it for a while already, now I'm posting the first chapter of my big AU; Fado survives the fall of Renais. I have some things already planned out in my head and I hope that having something already posted will motivate me to actually write that down. We'll see how that goes Anyway, I'm really enjoying writing this, especially the parts where Fado and Ephraim meet (in Chp. 3). Yay 8D
In the flurry of everything that happened – the attack, the battle, his predicament and near death – the thing that got stuck in his mind the most was that Vigarde beat him in a duel.
Seconds after Seth had dragged Eirika out of the room, Fado heard his men´s screams echoing through the corridors. He gritted his teeth hard and clutched at the hilt of his sword. His men had put down their weapons but they were still murdered? Anger flushed his skin red. He couldn't believe that Vigarde could possibly lead this army. He would never tolerate monsters like this.
His belief in his friend quickly started to sway when after two handful of Grado soldiers, Vigarde entered the throne hall. Tall, dark in his purple clothes and armour, and his hard gaze directed at Fado. The Gradian soldiers had almost immediately overpowered the now defenceless Renaitian men. A shiver of rage ran up Fado´s back when he heard their dying cries and saw blood tainting the ground. The air was polluted with the smell of death.
"Vigarde..." He took a step forward. None of the soldiers tried to stop him; instead they stepped back and turned to their emperor.
"Surrender and I grant you a painless death," Vigarde said in a voice that made Fado involuntarily shudder. His anger didn't let him investigate this strange feeling, though, and so he only raised his sword, aiming its tip between Vigarde´s eyes.
"What are you doing here? Have you not already got what you wanted when you raided the temple and destroyed the Sacred Stone?" Fado struggled to keep himself from swearing like a sailor.
"Where is the real stone?" Fado snorted dismissively.
"What are you talking about? The stone was in the temple."
"The stone was fake. Where is the real stone?" Vigarde repeated in a monotonous voice.
"Why do you want to destroy it?"
"That is none of your business."
Fado barred his teeth. "Is that so? You are invading my country, you are killing my citizen and you dare to say that it is none of my business!" His voice boomed and echoed in the throne hall. In the corner of his eyes he saw a small figure startle lightly behind Vigarde, but he didn't care. His furious gaze was fixed on Vigarde´s dull eyes. A tiny voice in the back of his mind yelled at Fado that this was strange, that he had been always able to read Vigarde´s feelings even when he wanted to hide them. The voice, however, was drowned out by a growl from deep within Fado´s chest, elicited by Vigarde´s answer.
"Yes."
"Bastard!" As his mind was blanking, Fado jumped forward and swung his sword against Vigarde´s head. This man was not his friend and if a sword in his chest was the only way to wake him up, so be it.
Vigarde blocked the attack easily; Fado grunted annoyed – at himself, because that was an awfully easy blow to block – and thrust forward again to try to pierce Vigarde´s shoulder between his armour before he could recover. In the last second Vigarde yanked up his axe, slapped Fado´s sword up and away, and sent Fado stumbling backwards. Fado was startled by the sheer force throwing him backwards. He had barely regained his footing as Vigarde swung his heavy axe against Fado´s unprotected head. He ducked and jumped to the side.
Why is he so strong?
Vigarde quickly advanced – Fado raised his sword in defence. How could he suddenly- His train of thought was interrupted by a heavy axe connecting with his sword; his arms shook at the force. A slight sense of panic crept up Fado´s spine. Something was not right. Vigarde pulled back and attacked again so fast that Fado could barely do anything. In a matter of seconds he was forced into the role of a defender without getting the chance to retaliate.
This is not Vigarde. He panicly thought as he ducked another blow. Vigarde hasn't been that strong for years! Suddenly he felt pain and blood was trickling over his cheek; Vigarde had barely missed his left eye. Fado took a step back and shifted away but it was too late: Vigarde swung low in an upwards arc. A white flash of pain jolted through Fado´s whole being and he screamed loudly as the sharp metal of the axe cut through his flesh, tendons and muscles. Disoriented and mind blank with pain, his left hand flew up to the wound. He yowled when his gloved fingers touched the raw flesh and felt the bone sticking out. Involuntarily his gaze glued itself to the stump that once was his right arm. It was almost cleanly cut off at his arm bend; his right hand, lying lifelessly on the ground, was still holding his sword. For a second Fado saw only red, then white. His mind whirled with pain and sickness, his mouth standing wide open as he gasped for air.
"It's over." Then everything became black and distinctively he felt his body falling to the ground.
###
He was slumping on a chair when he awoke later. Fado wished he could've slept longer; his whole body was a bundle of pain and the strange and unreal feeling that something of him was missing made his stomach do flips. His head throbbed painfully and his mouth was so dry that his tongue seemed to be glued to the bottom of his mouth. While Fado was inwardly discussing if he should try to force his eyes open and if that would make him throw up, he heard a door opening and several metal-covered feet entering – his heart beat quickened and his breathing became short and hasty. A few seconds later a gloved hand seized his throat.
"Where is the stone?" Fado gasped for air as the grip tightened. Involuntarily his eyes fluttered open and between the flickering white dots he could see purple. The hand around his neck loosened a bit.
"I don't know wha-" His air was cut off again.
"Where is the stone?"
"Hidden," Fado spat out as soon as he could breathe.
"Where?"
"Why don't you look for yourself?" he hissed just before he was punished again.
"Then we will ask Princess Eirika and Prince Ephraim. They surely know." The coldness in Vigarde´s voice and the sole thought of his children in Grado´s clutches made Fado shudder.
"They know nothing," he whispered and wriggled to escape Vigarde´s grip. He winced when his body and especially his arm protested vehemently.
"We'll see that when we have them." Panicked, Fado felt Vigarde´s hand leaving and heard the metal of his boots scrape over the ground; Eirika surely wasn't far away enough by now; they would find her immediately. He had to buy her time, no matter how. It was the last thing he could do for her.
"Who are you!" Even though he could barely see, he noticed that the air in the room changed; there was a certain tenseness around him. He wasn't exactly sure why – who would've thought that his bluff actually seemed to have an effect on them – but he would sure use it to his advantage.
"What do you mean?" Fado heard Vigarde coming back. He tried to push himself up into an upright position so that he would have at least some dignity in death.
"You aren't Vigarde. I don't know who you are, but you are not him."
"Nonsense." Fado chuckled; it sent hundreds of little needles through his body but it was worth it.
"If you really were Vigarde..." he added a pause for effect, "then you'd know where the stone is."
"What?" someone asked from somewhere in the room. Fado was too weak to look who that was and he was too occupied by two conflicting feelings; he was gloating that this was working, but somehow he seemed to have hit a nerve. Was he somehow right and this wasn't the real Vigarde? But how would that work? If that truly is someone dressing up as Vigarde, he must be his twin.
"What are you talking about?" Vigarde was standing directly in front of Fado now, the tips of their shoes touching. Despite his fuzzy vision, he tried to catch Vigarde´s gaze.
"I was once a foolish boy, who loved secrets but couldn't keep them because the greatest fun was the exciting feeling of sharing a secret with a friend." A probably very pained smile which was supposed to be gleeful appeared on Fado´s face. "The real Vigarde would know."
There was a low growl and suddenly everything was dark again.
###
The next time he awoke, he was in a cell. The air was stale and disgusting. Fado almost wished that someone would cut off his air again so that he didn't have to smell or inhale it. He was lying on the cold, hard ground, which was causing his body to hurt even more – his armour was missing. The little rest of his right arm was so numb that it felt like it wasn't there as well (miraculously it still managed to hurt). Fado blinked quickly to clear his gaze from the black and white dots, but they were completely unimpressed by his efforts. Sighing annoyed, Fado turned his head slightly to look at his stump.
His stomach did two flips when he saw the bloody bandages lazily tied around his elbow. The blood had dried and the brownish cloth was sticking firmly to his flesh; he felt it tweak at even the smallest motion of his arm or the bandages. With a grunt, Fado turned his head away and stared at the ceiling. The same dull grey stones that were beneath and around him greeted him back.
I hope Eirika is safe, he thought and swallowed hard. He had trust in Seth and his abilities but right now they were two against the whole army of Grado. Their chances were slim. Think positive, he chided himself. I believe in them.
Frowning, he tried to shift gently so that this certain stone underneath him didn't poke him in the back – which took at least half an hour because his body sent gigantic shocks through him and left him gasping for air as soon as he moved even the tiniest bit. When he finally had managed to avoid the stone, he heard the clanking of armour coming closer. He sighed annoyed.
Just after I managed to become comfortable. It failed to cheer him up and could barely keep the fear at bay. Not that he would ever show it.
Firelight danced over the wall opposite of his cell and quickly grew bigger. A handful of soldiers entered Fado´s range of vision; one of them unlocked the cell and two of them entered and picked Fado up. He grunted a curse at them when they grabbed him by the shoulders and gruffly pushed him into the corridor.
The world swirled and twisted in front of Fado´s eyes and it was hard to keep his balance. He tried his best not to show his weakness, though it didn't seem like the soldiers were regarding him; they were just transporting him.
After a few turns, Fado knew where they were taking him; they were on the direct way to the castle gate. With a sinking feeling, he realized what would come. And after they had passed the heavy wooden gate, his feeling was verified; he could already discern the shape of the gallows in the orange light of the sinking sun. Fado tried to swallow his fear and the sickness, but no matter what he did, they stayed and pressed against his throat.
When they entered the town and then the market place, where the gallows had been erected, he was slightly surprised by the many people there. His vision had grown a bit hazy again (walking hurt so much), but he noticed the lack of red armour in the crowd; they were Renaitians. Behind them, though, blocking off the streets, was a wall of red.
Fado swallowed again – his tongue now truly stuck to the roof of his mouth. They were forcing his citizens to watch; he wasn't sure if it was more of a punishment for him or for them. The guards roughly pushed him up the steps of the gallows. Fado stumbled but the guards´ tight grip on him kept him on his feet. Quite unwillingly, he forcefully noticed in that moment that he was no longer walking on his own; he could barely lift his legs. Humiliated, Fado´s face twitched into a grimace, which he quickly willed away.
For a second he wondered if he should resist, should show his citizens that he hadn't given up and that they shouldn't give up as well. But what good would do that?, argued a tiny voice inside his head. If he had bad luck, then his citizens would be punished for his insolence. His gaze skimmed the first line of the onlookers. Some of them were confused, others blank, and most of them plain scared. Some of them searched his gaze – Why? The same question that was haunting him was written plainly on their faces. Why are they killing us? Why are they destroying our lives? What have we done to deserve this?
Fado lowered his gaze and tried to calm his breathing – his heart seemed to wildly jump around in his chest. Suddenly he felt the rough rope around his neck – one of the guards tightened the noose. Fado took one deep breath and raised his head. Even if his death would be an undignified one, he would still leave with his head held high. He would look confident. One part of his mind whispered that nobody would think the shaking of his knees was because he was scared; no, he looked sufficiently beaten.
The guards released him and stepped back – Fado suddenly felt very lonely. Please, Eirika, Ephraim, be safe... A cold shudder ran through him.
Impatiently, he waited. He (Fado refused to entertain the thought that that person was Vigarde) wouldn't waste this opportunity to dishearten the people of Renais. Fado waited for the trumpets to announce his arrival, waited for the heavy boots to smack against the wood, waited for the sound of armour.
His stomach twisted into a tight knot when he only heard a soldier call for the hangman to get over with this. For a moment his mind blanked with rage; how did they manage to make his death even more undignified? The person walking around in the disguise of his friend didn't even deign to watch him die? Fado couldn't feel his fear anymore – his ears buzzed with anger. Anger and desperation.
He squeezed his eyes shut; he could've stomached the defeat had he got an end worthy of a king and warrior. But this! This twisted the knife in his back and yanked it up and down.
"May you end up in the realm of the Demon King as his shit carrier," he muttered under his breath. With satisfaction, Fado noted that his voice only shook with anger, not fear.
He was startled from his thoughts when he heard wood creaking underneath him, and the rope around his neck tightened. All anger was instantly washed away from his mind and cold fear clutched at his very being. No matter how much Fado chided himself, his legs trembled, his eyes burnt and his stomach rebelled.
He forced his eyes open and looked ahead, skimming the crowd before him. So much hopelessness looked back at him – he wanted to tell them not to give up. Ephraim and Eirika were still alive and would come for them. But his lips seemed to be sewn shut. He had never been this much ashamed of himself. He turned his gaze upwards.
The wood under his feet creaked and sunk a centimetre – they were opening the flap. Fado´s heart drummed hard against his ribcage and all warmth left his body.
Suddenly there were cries. The wood bent upwards beneath Fado and the soldiers behind him shuffled around. Confused and slightly dazed by the overwhelming feelings swirling in his body, Fado turned to the source of the cries. Left to them was one of the four big streets leading to the market place. With his hazy gaze, Fado could only see an undefined dark mass at the end of the street. The soldiers didn't have that problem and called: "An attack! Form a line, hurry!"
The crowd grew agitated, people cried and panicked, storming in the opposite direction of the attack. The Gradian soldiers tried to stop them, but they were run over; they were too few. Fado could only blink at the commotion; his sickness had grown – he had to concentrate so much on staying on his feet that his surroundings faded out.
"Fetch reinforcements!" someone bellowed behind Fado and three men in red armour jumped in front of him. Fado´s breathing grew shallow and he suddenly feared that his heart might stop altogether if it continued to beat as quick as it did in the last few minutes.
"Renaitians!" someone called from far away. "Renaitian soldiers!"
Fado´s relief and happiness was almost drowned by the rest of his mind and feelings. He didn't have any hope for his own, but at least this meant there was hope for Renais, wasn't it? Fado half expected one of the Gradian soldiers to jump forward and hit the switch of the flap so that Fado couldn't get away.
Suddenly one of his guards fell backwards. Fado startled lightly, which almost made him fall to the side like a sack potatoes – the rope around his neck reminded him that he should really not break down right now. An arrow was sticking in the man´s throat. The other guards drew their weapons and shields, but before they could do much, two people stormed up the steps of the gallows. They were only two hazy flashes in Fado´s eyes, but he recognized the colours of their clothes; blue and yellow. Augustinian soldiers.
The Gradian soldiers fell before they could react. "King Fado!" one of the Renaitian soldiers called and hastened to cut the noose. Fado felt like breaking down that second; he didn't manage to care much anymore. His body hurt so much and he just wanted to cry. Suddenly he heard hooves on cobbles and someone called.
"King Fado, here!" The voice sounded familiar, but Fado couldn't place it. The two soldiers pushed him towards the edge of the gallows, where he could see the shadowy form of a mounted soldier. Fado almost stumbled, but the men caught him and helped him to fall onto the horse behind the rider. "Hold onto me, Your Majesty," the rider said and grabbed Fado´s remaining hand, pulling it around him so that he could take a hold of the mane. Fado just fell against the man´s back and tried to close his hand. The rider seemed to have noticed his weakness, since his grip on him tightened. "Let's go!" he called behind him and kicked his horse in gallop. Fado heard more horses behind them and following them.
After that, Fado didn't notice much anymore; he sank into a strange state of blankness. There was nothing but the pain that coursed through his body every time the horses´ hooves met the ground. For a while Fado thought that he truly had died and was on his way to the Demon King´s Realm – the way to the Goddess´ Realm wouldn't be this painful. And he found that he didn't manage to care anymore; he just wanted it to be over.
###
Eventually, Fado felt his mind clearing. In the last hours (or minutes or days?), the pain had almost grown unreal. He had lost all feeling for his body and at times he had thought he already was a ghost. But now, he felt all of himself; the pain poking and pinching even the tiniest muscle, the enormous ache gathering in his temples and his one remaining arm pressing against him. He believed that he felt every little drop of blood sneaking through his veins.
Then he suddenly felt a strange warmth. He knew this feeling very well; someone was working healing magic on him. His forehead twitched into a frown and it hurt. He pressed his lips close tight and willed his eyes to open. This situation was dodgy and he wanted, nay, needed to know where he was and what had happened.
"My King?" someone suddenly asked and the magic intensified. Fado heard someone shift closer. He forced his mouth open to answer but his mouth was so dry that he could only croak. "Your Majesty, you need not worry. You are in safety." It was the familiar voice; Fado relaxed. He felt he could trust this person. "When are you finished?" the voice asked someone else in a hushed volume.
"I'm sorry, sir," a young voice answered. "I can't do much. I have no supplies." There was a short silence.
"I understand. Do what you can." The person seemed to stand up and walk away. Fado wanted to call him back, but was still unable to do so. Angry at himself, he concentrated on his eyes again and forced them open; he had enough strength this time. Blinking quickly, he squinted ahead.
He saw dry earth, almost sand, and footprints. He also saw the edge of the thick cloak he was lying on. Fado raised his gaze; opposite of him there was a small fire. There were two people at the fire; one man, who knelt with the back to Fado, and one woman dressed in heavy armour next to him. A clean sword was at her side. They were talking in low voices. Fado blinked; he truly knew that back.
The man stood up with a canteen in hand. Fado´s eyes widened; he recognized that crinkled face, the burnt skin, bright blue eyes and short, almost black hair – there was much more white woven into it since the last time he had seen him, though. Fado´s mouth twitched into a smile; he still looked 10 years older than he was. The man seemed surprised when he looked up from the canteen to Fado. A reserved and relieved smile quickly replaced the surprise.
"My liege," he said with a respectful nod and knelt next to Fado.
"Karl," Fado croaked. Karl offered him the canteen and lifted Fado´s head; greedily he drank the water spiced with schnapps. Fado licked his lips and sighed relieved when he had finally stilled his thirst.
"How are you feeling, my King?" Karl asked and shifted into a more comfortable position.
"Horrible," Fado said truthfully. Karl nodded, expression deadly serious.
"We are on our way to Fort Lochmol. We'll approximately need a day to reach it. Please stay alive until then." Fado snorted.
"I'll try." His voice had sunken to a whisper. He still felt the fear linger in his mind and heart. Fado swallowed and looked up at Karl. "Karl, what happened?"
Karl ran one hand over his chin, frowning thoughtfully; Fado remembered that it was always shaved clean, but now Karl´s hand scratched over irregular stubbles. "Two days ago we heard that Grado had reached Laudane. As soon as I could, I gathered my men and hurried towards you. We met a small unit of Gradian soldiers in Molilene, which cost us a whole day. Two hours away from the capital, we heard that the castle had fallen. I ordered my men to stop and we hid in a small village. I didn't want to endanger my men unnecessarily so I only sent two spies ahead." Karl sighed and folded his hands in his lap. "They watched how some soldiers erected the gallows. They learnt that the Emperor had ordered your execution."
A shiver ran down Fado´s back. He clenched his teeth.
"My men hastened back and told us that we had less than a few hours to come up with a plan to save you. It seemed that Grado didn't want to waste any time on getting rid of you, my King." Karl hesitated. "Our plan was hasty and reckless." He straightened, a smile tugging at his mouth. "My King has been quite an influence."
Fado couldn't keep himself from barking something akin to laughter, even though his arm retaliated with bone-shattering pain. A wave of happiness flooded his heart and for a moment Fado felt good. "By the Goddess, have I missed you and your dryness." Fado´s grin was a tad pained, but honest. Karl lowered his head respectfully, maybe to hide his amused smile.
"Sir, I'm finished." Karl turned to the young boy next to them. Fado had completely forgot about the person who had been healing him. The healer looked very young with his chubby cheeks and his shortness. The twelve-year-old who was always bringing Fado his letters was taller than this boy.
"Good. You may rest now." The boy´s shoulders slumped a bit and relief washed over his face. He bowed to Fado and wobbled over to the fire. The woman smirked at him, but didn't comment. The boy sat down gingerly and stretched his legs.
"Where is the rest of your men?" Fado asked in a low voice. Karl shook his head slowly; his expression darkened.
"We knew that we were vastly outnumbered so I ordered them to flee in small groups in all directions. I hoped that would confuse and slow down the Gradian army. All survivors will meet up at Levee Forest." Fado tensed and the happiness that had lifted his mood shrank back.
"How many were you?"
"150 men and women. Most of them soldiers. A few civilians had joined us when they heard of the attack. They wanted to help." Karl sighed. "I fear they were the first to fall." Fado pressed his lips to a thin line.
"They were very brave people." Karl nodded. Silence fell over them for a few moments.
"Do they teach you nothing in those convents?" they heard the woman say, her voice laced with snickers.
"They are," the healer protested. "I can read, write, sew, cook, heal-"
"But not ride a horse." The woman laughed loudly now.
"Ma'am Linnéa, I- I–" Fado and Karl both clearly heard the agitation in his voice. Linnéa laughed again.
"I'm just teasing you, Iustus! Don' be so uptight!" A small smile found its way onto Fado´s face; he looked over to them. Iustus had a bright red face, which made him look like a tomato, while Linnéa grinned broadly and leaned back, supporting herself on her hands. Her short green hair stuck to her sweaty forehead and neck. A long, dark scar ran through her lower lip down to her chin; it seemed to be an old wound.
"Your Majesty, are you hungry?" Karl asked. Fado pondered it for a moment and then shook his head.
"I don't believe I could hold it down." Karl nodded thoughtfully.
"Very well. But I believe you need more water." He walked over to the two at the fire and exchanged a few words with Linnéa; eventually she rose to her feet, picked up her sword and the canteen and disappeared between the trees.
Fado sighed and slackened; he felt so incredible tired. The pain in his arm had dulled slightly and while the sickness had grown weaker, he still felt horrible. He shifted a bit so that his left arm was no longer wedged underneath him and closed his eyes. He felt safe enough to immediately fall asleep.
###
Iustus shook Fado awake the next morning; still tired, Fado blinked lazily and looked up at the sky. It was still rather dark, but there were no longer stars visible. Fado shuddered when a gentle breeze tickled his skin. It was cold; Fado guessed they already were close to the mountains. The air in the regions of the Lower Borgo Mountain Range was infamous for the coldness it carried into the land all year.
Only with difficulties, Fado could sit up. His mind whirled around and made so many pirouettes that Fado started to think that he was truly turning on his axis.
"Breakfast, Your Majesty?" Karl asked from the cold fireplace. Fado grimaced.
"The king is pretty white in the face," Linnéa remarked.
"We should set out then," Karl said, his voice betraying his annoyance at the lack of manners. As Karl and Linnéa went to fetch the two horses, Fado turned to Iustus.
"Is my arm still there?" The boy blinked, his expression openly confused and surprised. "I don't feel it," Fado added.
"Yes," Iustus answered slowly, crunched up his forehead and looked around for the others. Fado frowned.
"How old are you?" Iustus´ head whipped around to him, the insecurity and whiff of fear replaced by an embarrassed blush.
"I'm 15."
He's puny, Fado thought and crinkled his nose at the pain that jabbed against his temples. Ephraim and Eirika were taller than him at that age. Iustus meanwhile shifted away, now with an angry lines on his forehead.
"You're doing good for your age," Fado remarked and tried to smile away the lump in his throat. Iustus threw a doubtful look at him – his forehead relaxed, though. "I'm not in as much pain as yesterday." Now Iustus relaxed completely and even smiled.
"Thank you, sir." Before Fado could continue the conversation, they heard the others coming back. Karl walked straight over to Fado.
"Sire, can you stand up?" Fado bit the inside of his cheek – hard.
"No." He extended his good arm to Karl and let the older man pull him up. After a little hassle Fado finally sat in the saddle and clutched at the horse´s mane. Just this little thing had already exhausted him so much that he wanted to lie down and sleep again. He bit down on the inside of his cheek so hard that he drew blood. Karl mounted behind him and took up the reins.
The last time that I had to ride with someone was when I was 11, Fado thought bitterly.
"What's our plan?" Linnéa asked as she rode up with Iustus mounted behind her; the boy clutched at her sword belt. Karl turned his horse around and nudged it into motion.
"We'll ride southwards to the mountains. The entrance to Fort Lochmol is hidden somewhere between the towns of Atlor and Carana. We'll stay inside the forest as long as we can. We mustn't underestimate Grado´s wyvern scouts."
If they were showing consideration for Fado or if they truly couldn't move quickly in the forest, Fado didn't know, but their pace was very slow. At their quickest, the horses were not just ambling. It frustrated him, but also calmed him. Yesterday he had had the luck that he had been unconscious during the flight and therewith hadn't been affected too negatively. But now he was wide awake (even though his body tried to suggest otherwise). The shaking of the horse alone was making him sick; he didn't truly want to know what would happen if they were cantering or galloping.
The sun soon rose above the firs and shone through the dark needles. When Fado couldn't find even one broad-leaved tree between the tall firs, he knew that they already were surprisingly close to the mountains. Maybe they could've already seen the snow-topped tops of the mountains if the trees weren't in the way. Fado shifted; the wind had slowly grown stronger over the last few hours and carried more and more frost with it. It was still late summer, but in the strange area the mountains were standing in the weather was a bit different than in the rest of Renais; the hot winds from Jehanna that warmed south-western and central Renais couldn't withstand the winds travelling over the mountains from Grado.
"Are you cold, Your Majesty?" Karl asked from behind.
"No," Fado pressed through tense lips. He already felt weak enough; he didn't need to add this little unpleasantness onto the heap. Nevertheless, Karl pulled the cloak he had imposed on Fado earlier tighter around him. Fado winced when the cloak pressed against his stump; Karl didn't notice.
They spent the next two or three hours in silence; which was their luck, Fado guessed, since only because of their silence, they heard the low chattering to their left. Karl immediately yanked up his arm and beckoned them to stop. All three of them perked their ears – Fado was only half-conscious by now – and listened intently.
"Iustus, check ahead," Karl whispered and steered his horse around, back into a denser area of the forest. Iustus nodded and slid from Linnéa´s horse – his face had grown a tad ashen when Karl had called his name, but he donned a confident expression (probably forcefully) when he raced from one tree to the next, always staying in hiding.
After a few minutes had passed, Linnéa grew impatient and shifted on her saddle. "Sir, we shouldn't have sent Iustus. He's just a 'lil boy." Karl ignored her, peering in the direction the boy had disappeared in. Linnéa sighed when she didn't get an answer and fingered the hilt of her sword. Fado meanwhile had finally decided that leaning back against Karl was alright and the embarrassment he would feel for it would not be as bad as the pain that staying upright would cause him.
Then suddenly they heard footsteps hastening over the dry ground; Karl tensed and pulled back his reins, alerting his horse. Linnéa grabbed the handle of her sword tightly. They relaxed, Karl only slightly, when Iustus wriggled through two firs.
"There were two woodcutters." Iustus took a deep breath; his cheeks were still tinted pink from the excitement. "I watched them walking westwards, I believe. There's a path in the forest. I checked if more people were coming, but I couldn't find anything."
Karl nodded at him; Fado managed a smile. "Let's hurry. We shouldn't stay close to ways the Grads could take." Iustus nodded and hastened to mount behind Linnéa.
Karl sent Linnéa and Iustus ahead, just in case that someone had turned up while the boy was reporting his findings. To their luck, the forest was still deserted and they crossed the path without problems.
When the sun stood high over their heads, Fado felt his consciousness slipping. Never before had he noticed it this strongly. It scared him, he had to admit. His body was growing numb and one second he felt like he was burning and in the next second it was like he was swimming in an ice lake. He grew inwardly tense. And thirsty.
"I think forest's over," Linnéa remarked just as Fado tried to articulate his need for water. Karl leaned forward to see better over Fado´s shoulder.
"You are correct." Karl slowed his horse. "Iustus,–"
"I'll spy ahead," Iustus interrupted him, already on his way down from horseback. Fado heard Karl huff lowly in annoyance at being interrupted. His mouth twitched into a smile and he rolled his head back.
"Karl, I need water," he croaked.
"Of course, Your Majesty." While Karl fumbled with the canteen and helped Fado drink, Iustus slunk back.
"I couldn't see any soldiers, sir. I checked the sky but there was not even one bird. And towards the right," he extended his left arm and waved in the rough direction, "is another forest. It doesn't look dense, but it's better than on the plain." He raised his voice towards the end in question and looked at Karl.
"Well done." The boy´s face lit up and he jumped on Linnéa´s horse far more energetically than earlier. Karl leaned forward and spoke lowly in Fado´s ear: "Sire, we'll have to hurry for a moment." Fado grmph-ed in return. His mind had grown hazy again. Karl seemed to hesitate before he kicked his horse into motion.
Despite the warning Fado winced and whimpered when the first shock wave ran through his body. Every time the horse´s hooves hit the ground, something punched Fado´s stomach. He could barely keep himself from leaning over the side and relieving his stomach.
Thankfully, they quickly crossed the clearing and entered the next forest, slowing down as soon as they were no longer visible from the plain.
"Your Majesty, shall we rest for a while?" Karl asked. Fado knew that he was probably grimacing and looking horrible – he hated that he had barely any self-control right now. He shook his head. "Very well." Karl seemed unwilling, but still didn't stop.
Fado soon lost his feeling for time; he dozed off again and again. The light had grown low and cold the next time Fado reclaimed enough consciousness to clear his mind and looked around tiredly. His skin seemed to be on fire.
"Karl?" he croaked.
"Yes, My King?"
"Where are we?" His words were so slurred that he barely understood himself.
"We are currently searching for the mountain path." Fado squinted ahead; a few metres in front of him, the mountains rose high against the sky. Dark grey stone dominated the landscape and the earth beneath them was of a reddish brown. Barely any plants were growing here – only flowerless weeds and sturdy, small conifers managed to settle down on the bare stone. When Fado sighed, his breath turned into thin, white fog.
"Can't the king help us find the path?" Linnéa called from the left.
"Lady Linnéa, please watch your manners," Karl returned in a curt voice.
"... My apologies." Fado found that her voice sounded a bit annoyed and he guessed she would also roll her eyes; a tired smirk crept onto his face. "Could His Majesty assist us in finding the path?"
"I do not think so." Karl was still tense. "Keep your eyes open and your mind sharp."
They spend the next hour searching, riding along the foot of the mountain range; Iustus and Linnéa had both dismounted to be able to check the stone more closely. After they had passed a mountain slope that reached far into the forest, they suddenly heard talking. Karl immediately drew his sword, Linnéa followed his example and Iustus startled and hastened to hide behind Linnéa´s horse. The newcomers were too close to hide from.
Suddenly the head of a brown horse looked around a wall of trees (a very unfortunate coincidence, Fado thought) and snorted. "Who goes there?" Karl called confidently. They heard the clanking of weapons; Linnéa shifted into an attack stance.
Then the rider of the brown horse entered their range of vision. Karl immediately relaxed. "Sir Lajos." Recognition hushed over the newcomer´s face and he lowered his axe.
"Lord Augustin, it's you." Sir Lajos sighed in relief and waved behind him. Another soldier joined him; a young woman armed with a longbow. "You are alive." Then his gaze fell to Fado. "Your Majesty!" He immediately saluted. "The king is alive." Fado blinked slowly.
"At the moment, yes." Fado had to agree with Karl.
"We just wanted to start our search," Sir Lajos said; if he was surprised by Karl´s frankness, he didn't show it. He turned to Linnéa and Iustus then and nodded. "I am Lajos of Morin and this is Lady Raphaela."
"I'm Néa," Linnéa answered and only slowly lowered her sword. She was visibly tense.
"I'm Iustus from Durant." Both Lajos and Raphaela nodded to them; he smiled, but she seemed sour. She was also clutching her side. Fado had to squint hard until he could identify the rags around her middle as bandages.
"Let's continue our search," Karl announced. "We have to find the path before nightfall." Lajos dismounted then and joined Linnéa and Iustus, though he still stayed close to Lady Raphaela and periodically threw concerned looks back at her.
Temperature fell quickly and the first star, The Goddess´ Eye, peeked over the tops of the firs. They were still searching for the entrance of the path and slowly their hands grew stiff with coldness. None of them had the appropriate clothing for this premature winter. The tiny part of Fado´s mind that was still clear noticed how Karl grew tenser and tenser and urged his subordinates to search faster and better. Linnéa was the only one, who sighed and grumbled.
Fado thought he had fallen asleep because Iustus´ call startled him 'awake' in the same way as his twins did back when they had been small and sometimes jumped around on his bed when he slept too long on a lazy day. The only difference was that he didn't hear cheeky giggling. "Sir, this looks strange."
Karl urged his horse over to where Iustus was crouching in front of a ledge. He was pointing at a small hole in the dark stone; it was barely high and wide enough to permit a crouching adult to slip through. "No, this is not the entrance. But we are close." He turned to the others. "The entrance must be here. Control every centimetre of the stone." Lajos nodded obediently; Linnéa was already gone and let her hand glide over the stone.
They moved slowly and truly checked every little pebble and stray blade of grass. Karl tightened his grip around Fado and leaned down to him. He didn't talk; after throwing a long look at Fado´s nearly grey face, he turned away. The wound on his left cheek had turned a brownish red and the skin around it was flushed. Fado seemed to sleep again, or was shortly before falling asleep. Karl threw a quick glance at their other wounded party member; Lady Raphaela kept herself upright admirably. Her hand was still pressed to her side, but her stance betrayed none of her pain. Her eyes were alert and scanning the forest behind them.
"I think I found it!" called Linnéa suddenly. All heads jerked around to her; she was half hidden by another fold in the stone. She poked her head out. "Here's something that could be a path. And a pair of horses could pass here." Karl quickly rode up to her and peeked into the fold. On first glance it seemed to be a natural cave with sandy ground. But when he lowered his head and turned his gaze slightly upwards, he saw a flash of dark blue sky far in the back.
"This is it." Iustus sighed relieved while Lajos only slumped his shoulders. Linnéa grinned broadly.
"About time."
"Sir Lajos, please lead the way," Karl said and threw a strict glance towards the young man. He snapped back into tenseness, saluted and quickly mounted his horse. He entered the pathway carefully – it was broad enough to let a horse walk through comfortably, but the height was not fitting. All of them had to lean down onto the neck of their mounts. When they left the stone gate, Karl looked grimmer than before. "Hurry now." He pulled Fado close to him; his head lolled back lifelessly.
"Sir, shall I-" Iustus started and made a grab for his stave, but Karl interrupted him with a shake of the head.
"No." He kicked his horse in the side and, snorting loudly, the horse happily cantered up the path.
