Chapter 1: The Hard Knock Life
Excerpt from "A History of Toulouse"
The history of the lands of Toulouse changed dramatically when they were liberated from the Organization's influence. In 1 A.L.E., or After Liberation Era, small governments throughout Toulouse broke free of outside rule. They did so through a combination of a human revolt and a number of former superhuman warriors attacking their former superiors. After the war of liberation, the Organization's headquarters in the eastern city of Staff was annihilated. As word spread of their liberation from the Organization and fear of predatory Yoma, the people of Toulouse celebrated. It seemed a new era of paradise was coming.
But two years later, things were different. The countryside, once kept mostly clear of bandits and armies by fears of Yoma, steadily fell into lawlessness and petty warlord-ism. The leader of the rebellion, the former 6th ranked warrior of the Organization, "Phantom" Miria, did her best to change the situation. However, the few dozens of warriors that had pledged allegiance to her and survived the war of liberation were not enough for the task. Eventually they splintered into disagreeing groups, many hiring out their protective services to traveling merchants, unfortified towns, bankers, and refugees in order to support themselves.
When the hiring of warriors lead to the effective end of bandits raiding villages and merchant convoys, a particularly bold bandit leader named Bastien went after Phantom Miria. He reasoned that if he could somehow force Miria to call off her former supporters, the good times would return. Little did Bastien know that Miria no longer had such control over her fellow warriors. This was one of several fatal miscalculations in his plan. The worst he made was attempting to take the ex-Claymore trainee Natalie hostage. With Miria acting as Natalie's surrogate mother and protector, Bastien never had the time to learn of the lethal dangers of provoking maternal instincts in silver-eyed warriors.
After this ambush, having broken the taboo of killing humans, Miria's group engaged in all-out fights against desperate bandits and brigands, some of whom were bent on revenge. The other claymores soon tired of this newly lethal profession, having never wanted to take human life. Miria emerged from these days a much-changed warrior, as did the other warriors, even the ones who left the profession early. When this happened the merchants began to stop traveling. A year after the attack, Miria knew her days as a merchant protector were coming to an end, but she stubbornly continued, making one last trip north of Rabona with a merchant named Ruud van Willems.
These must have been depressing times for Miria, but little did she know that they would not last much longer. Elsewhere, events both in Toulouse and abroad were in motion that would make the times ahead a dangerous new era. The events that were to make Phantom Miria truly famous were soon to happen."
Diary of "Phantom" Miria
15th of July, 2 years to the day after the Organization's defeat
"I've come to the conclusion that going to bars with Helen is a very bad idea. I'll admit I should've stopped going along with her wild antics years ago. We wound up in the town of Strasbourg, which is renowned for its taverns and pubs. Helen of course insisted that all five of us had to visit the most infamous of these bars, 'Le scandale de Strasbourg Taverne'. With a name like that, I should've turned us around at the door. Helen of course saw no problems and somehow convinced us to join her. It was about as bad as one could expect. On roughly half the tables there were scantily clad, drunken prositutes or exotic dancers flirting with the menfolk. Helen was soon engaged in a drinking contest against these scantily dressed women, a game, which, thanks to Helen being a claymore, she easily won. Helen being Helen of course, she forgot to filter the alcohol.
When I mentioned I was not thrilled with the atmosphere, Helen immediately launched into a drunken rant. It was about how I ought to 'turn the tables' and set up a bar catering to 'girls like us'. Helen evidently had been cooking up ideas for a bar with shirtless male dancers who would appeal to female fantasies. She wanted to have it named after me, and I'll admit it was an amusing concept, except that I didn't want it named after me. Thankfully Helen doesn't know my last name or I dare say she'd try something like it anyways. When I didn't volunteer my last name, de Beauharnais, Helen got all grouchy and complained I didn't 'have a sense of humor'. She later put down my refusal to say anything to not being aware of what my last name was, which is a common problem amongst claymores. Actually Helen, I'm saving the last name for the day you say hell will freeze over: my wedding day. Helen bet Renée it would never happen, and Renée being competitive like she is, the girl has amusingly been keeping up a campaign for me to get married just to prove Helen wrong and win the bet.
Speaking of Renée , she keeps joking to me that Natalie's like my daughter lately. In some ways I suppose it is not so very far from the mark. If we weren't both part Yoma, it very well could be literally true. My thirty years make me nearly double Natalie's age, and there are plenty of women on the island that old with teenage children. Natalie has had a very odd upbringing, with a human childhood, then several years of brutal Organization training, and finally now fighting alongside me and protecting merchants. I wanted to bring her up as pure as the white snow, but instead she's been spilling the blood of bandits alongside me. I always end up sighing in regret thinking about it, like right now for instance.
It seems lately the brigands and bandits have finally figured out how to even the odds fighting us: using massed archers. The dangers arrows pose to our kind are obvious, since we all fight without any helmets. We have had several close calls to an arrow killing one of us in the last six months; Natalie in particular. All the violence has wiped out my prior delusions, like believing the island would bloom once given its freedom. I continue to hope that the holy city of Rabona gets ambitious enough to expand its territory and give this island some peace and stability, but the church has no such dreams. I don't know why I bother having such dreams anymore; perhaps it's because I've always had dreams, visions and ambitions. Sadly my only cares these days is that whatever merchant's convoy we're protecting pays us to protect them from attackers.
It's been the same hell this week as the last five; bandits attacking at night, attempting to catch someone off-guard or separated from our merchant convoy. The merchant convoy's owner is the usual; super smooth in persuading you out of your cash, but totally incompetent in military affairs. I expect we'll be attacked quite soon, especially if this merchant and ex-Rabonese lord, Ruud van Willems, gets his way with arranging security..."
It was the middle of the day, and Miria was pausing to dip her quill pen into the ink bottle. Her diary was marked full of entries, with an entry marked for each week in the last two years. She was seated upon a small, folding chair in the middle of a large but cramped wooden carriage. It had only two windows up high to let in light; conveniently just enough for Miria to write by during the day without candles. They had been on the road from Rabona for several weeks now, and were nearing their end destination. As far as Miria was concerned, this wooden carriage, choked full of trinkets and a bed tucked into its far end, was home, at least for now. Miria shared the carriage with the 16-year-old ex-Organization trainee, Natalie, which was ideal; especially given that Natalie more than any of Miria's companions needed her guidance.
Miria was wearing her usual clothing: a navy-blue leather outfit with a scandalous side-slit skirt and navy-blue leather leg and arm stockings. The outfit's form-fitting nature was useful in that it didn't restrict Miria's movement, but it did have its drawbacks. Its form-fitting nature tended to attract awkward stares from townsfolk, and drunks seem to think claymores wore nothing under the skirt. A drunk discovered otherwise when flipping up Renée 's skirt, an act that led to him being sent to the infirmary by Renée , who was not known for her sense of humor.
Miria dipped the quill pen into the ink bottle to start writing once more.
The door of the carriage abruptly smashed open, light pouring into the carriage's dark interior where she was writing.
"Captain, we've been ambushed by bandits!"
The woman who'd barged in had long, braided blond hair and an attractive face, which was marred by a look of alarm upon it. There was an immense double-edged sword on her back nearly as long as she was tall, and wore a form-fitting, navy-blue leather outfit very similar to Miria's own.
It took but a moment for Miria to put down the pen and parchment while the silver-eyed woman watched.
"There's no time Captain," the woman snapped. "They've ambushed us on both sides, so just grab your claymore," the woman shouted, pointing to a great sword in the carriage's back right corner.
Miria followed the woman's advice and got up and grabbed an immense sword shining in the candlelight, its length not much less than her body's height. After taking a breath, she followed the woman out into the light of day.
Miria heard a whizzing noise; she ducked as something hit the carriage above her with several loud thunks. She looked up to see several arrows solidly lodged into the wooden carriage where her head had been but a moment before. Miria quickly surveyed her surroundings, a view which confirmed the woman's earlier statement. Miria could see twenty large wooden carriages following hers down an earthy road, each pulled by a team of four massive workhorses. The carriages' drivers all looked terrified despite wearing brown leather-armor jackets and short swords.
The horses were whinnying as roughly a hundred men armed with spears, long swords, halberds and battle axes descended upon the column on all sides. The men had positioned their ambush well, waiting for the carriages to enter a low point on the road surrounded by forest. The female warrior who'd raised the alarm earlier drew her own claymore as a small crowd of men charged the convoy on both sides.
"Renée , take those swordsmen to the right, I'll handle any to the left," Miria ordered the braided warrior.
"Yes Captain," Renée acknowledged, flashing a small grin.
Renée drew her massive claymore and rushed to meet a group of swordsmen wearing little more than mail armor to her right. Renée jumped over them with ease, easily dodged their attempted back-swings, and beheaded three of them with a single horizontal sweep of her sword. However, Miria's attention was drawn from Renée 's fighting by a movement to the left. Coming out of the hilly woods to the left was a group of some five bowmen, each carrying a cache of arrows.
Two of the bandits immediately spotted Renée , who was busy literally disarming a group of spear-men, and drew their bows. Not waiting for Renée to be shot, Miria started sprinting towards the archers, and with a single swipe of her blade smashed the bows in half. The two bowmen gaped in surprise and then ran back into the forest. The other three attempted to draw their own bows when she slashed those apart as well. Wearing nothing more than a blue tunic, black boots and a mail shirt, they prudently ran back into the woods.
The battle in the front of the carriage train was over already, but along the rest of the convoy battles were being fought en masse.
"Renée ," Miria called.
Renée turned around upon hearing her name, her braids whipping around with her head's rotation. "Get over there and help Helen!"
Renée ran forward, saving one of the convoy's guards from being run through by decapitating his would-be killer. She ran to Renée 's left, where a brilliant movement caught Miria's eye. A silver-eyed girl in a full-body, navy-blue leather outfit with short blond hair was facing twenty times her number of bandits. Despite being outnumbered, the claymore's face was marked by an arrogant smirk.
"Is that it?"
The girl's taunt induced several bandits to come forward, at which the silver-eyed witch drew her immense sword with great speed and ease. The girl's right arm held the sword firmly, extending out to the left. The bandits barely had time to pause to consider this extraordinary event when it swept back to the right. The sword's sweep was fast and vicious, cutting through an uneven row of five spear-men. They crumpled almost immediately, pools of blood spreading on the ground where they fell.
Screams of dismay came from the remaining men, and they one and all dropped their weapons and ran for their lives. The victorious warrior, wearing a face full of battle-fury, adjusted the abnormally lengthened limb for another sweep regardless. Miria sprinted to stop the warrior's hand and grabbed it a mere foot from decapitating a long line of terrified men. The nearest man fainted when he looked over to see where the girl's blade had been stopped by her hands.
The rest ran off into the woods half-screaming, half-panting and soon out of sight. Miria turned to the girl, who was wearing an indignant mask, her eyes narrowed.
"You were planning to kill those unarmed men just now, weren't you Helen?"
"Goddamn your sense of morals Miria," the short-haired claymore cursed aloud into much more silent surroundings. "They might have been unarmed then, but they were more than willing to kill everyone here with weapons a minute ago. What's the point in saving their lives if they'll only kill people later?"
"You head down that path Helen..."
"I'm twenty-eight years old Miria, I'm not a child that needs a damn sermon about life. Now look at what you've done. We've won the battle already and you know full well those bastards will all be back attacking merchants later," Helen snapped back, retracting her right arm back to normal length.
Helen walked away down towards the end of the carriage train, where a number of the wooden carriages had been more thoroughly peppered with arrows on their sides. A number of the large workhorses were rearing in fright as the convoy's human guards attempted to remove arrows in their sides. Miria merely sighed as she watched Helen walk off and leaned against a wooden carriage's back door to rest.
Miria watched while Renée and Helen quietly exchanged a few words as they walked by one another. They were contrasts of one another, Miria reflected. Whereas Helen had the build of an average if athletic country farm girl, Renée looked one part boxer and one part tavern call girl. Renée had more of everything, a point not lost on the nearby carriage guards, who were uniformly staring at the bigger chest, butts, thighs, and longer legs of Renée instead of Helen's cute if less attractive frame. Ironically Helen was the far more flirtatious of the two with men, loving to crack jokes, drink, and seduce, while Renée was a model of chastity and rarely drank.
Helen continued moving on, stepping over several dead bandits' bodies while Renée glanced back at Helen and slung her sword in its holder on her back, sighing as she approached Miria.
"What is it Renée ?"
Renée titled her head up curiously and folded her arms as two other warriors approached. Helen, still walking away, barely acknowledged these other warriors as they passed by.
"Captain Miria, it's about Helen. She keeps getting discouraged; she claimed this morning you don't have a plan to turn things around," Renée sighed.
"Not true," Miria answered Renée while raising a hand. "Two years ago there were still many Yoma wandering around. It took us four months to clear them out, and that was after we had killed or imprisoned most of the Organization's leadership. Our only problem was we got rid of the scourge that kept the bandits in check. Sooner or later you'll see someone, either in Rabona or outside it, take control of this island. What we're doing is keeping towns alive by protecting their commerce. Doesn't Helen feel it's done some good?"
Renée shook her head.
"No, she thinks that nothing's come of it," Renée explained as the two other female claymores walked closer.
One of the claymores was slightly shorter than the other, and was very noticeably clutching the ends of two arrows embedded into her. The ordinarily silver-eyed witch's eyes had turned a golden yellow, and the pupils had narrowed to snake-like slits. The petite warrior wore a navy-blue leather outfit much like the rest of them, and had curly, long blond hair nearly down to her waist, and was wretchedly groaning in pain.
"Good grief Natalie, I'm sorry to see you got shot up. You may rest up and patch your uniform inside my carriage if you'd like," Miria told the groaning girl, who nodded her assent.
The other silver-eyed witch who'd walked up was given considerably less attention by the carriage drivers than Renée . It was not hard to see why, as this girl had a frame even less voluptuous than Helen, with a conservative hair bun and a serious, professorial look.
"Captain Miria, I'm afraid I have some bad news," the girl sighed.
Compared to Renée , this witch scarcely looked like the type of claymore who could swing the massive sword dangling on her back.
"Yes Tabitha," Miria acknowledged, "What is it?"
"The chief merchant's bitching about paying us...again," Tabitha grumbled.
"You see," Renée pointed out by holding her arms out, "the same damn thing as last time!"
Renée 's opportunity to rant was cut off by the approach of a well-dressed merchant, whose tunic was a beautiful composite of red, green and yellow. His black cloak swirled in the wind as he approached down the line of arrow bolt-peppered carriages. He was very tall, with black hair, a large hawkish nose, large hazel eyes and a scowl upon his face.
"I'll deal with this. Renée , Tabitha, I want you to scout the surrounding area until dark and report back if you see anything."
They turned off to their tasks, weary, sparing the merchant furtive glances as they passed by him and jogged into the woods and out of sight. The merchant stopped himself a good six feet from Miria when he opened his lips to speak.
"You call yourself a top warrior, but I have lost one horse and guard, and have three more wounded thanks to your supposed competence as a captain of guards. I want a discount of twenty percent off our agreed upon rate for our protection during the journey," he said stiffly.
"My supposed competence? Look, I have over sixteen years of active combat experience, Herr van Willems. The incompetence lies with you; you forbade my fighters from leaving the vicinity of the convoy, so of course we were ambushed. We could have easily scouted the surrounding area and avoided the ambush," Miria lectured him with a pointed finger.
"A fifteen percent discount, no less," Willems said a little louder than earlier.
"It would take a good 200 guards to guarantee this convoy's protection, and even then you would have been attacked. The five of us just killed over half of those attacking the column, and you paid us at a quarter the rate 200 guards would demand. The original price for your protection was already a bargain for the value."
Willems however continued to persist.
"A ten percent discount then," he sniffed as the convoy began moving once more. "That's my final offer."
Miria looked around briefly, and not spotting any of her warriors, grabbed Herr Willems by the collar and hauled him skyward. He uttered a few words of guttural fear as she let him hang from her outstretched arm.
"Listen, you might have been under the protection of more easily intimidated warriors before, so I'll explain this thoroughly for you. We claymores have to eat just like you, and if we don't get paid we don't eat, it's that simple. I was the leader of the warriors that took down the Organization. I have personally killed over two hundred bandits, ten awakened beings and four hundred Yoma in my travels. I have never in my life been treated with such disrespect. If you break the contract, I'll take my warriors and leave with the three quarters of the gold you already owe us for the entire journey. Then you and your impossibly small cohort of thirty guards can attempt to make it to Toulon."
She let him down, and he collapsed to his knees looking somewhat sobered.
"It's good to see you have some sense. I'd hate to see what would happen to you this far north in Toulouse. Everyone knows the border regions with Alphonse are legendary for being infested with dozens of roving armies of bandits," Miria finished.
She turned around, leaving Willems looking downtrodden as she trudged back to her wagon to check on the young Natalie. Natalie still had the arrows in her belly when Miria found her lying on her back on the carriage floor, Natalie's teeth gritted in pain.
Natalie asked, "Can we just not take them out?"
"No, no dear," Miria sighed at Natalie, "then you'll be in permanent pain and a bad mood all the time. Sit up now," she commanded the reluctant, petite claymore, whose sword looked awkwardly huge in comparison to her slight frame.
Natalie sat up with her help, gritting her teeth slightly. The arrows tilted sideways, their white-feathered shafts shifting as Natalie breathed. Miria examined the two punctures and discovered that both arrowheads were solidly lodged into Natalie's flesh.
"Alright Natalie, there are two options, and neither of them include keeping the arrows in you," Miria informed her young, cute-faced comrade.
"Nuts," Natalie exclaimed.
Miria laughed at Natalie's response, and then started smiling in spite of herself.
"This isn't funny mother," Natalie sniffed, slipping up.
She stopped smiling, but it was hard not to grin, "I'm your mother am I?"
Natalie's face froze up in embarrassment, "I meant to say Miria," Natalie explained sheepishly.
"Oh really," Miria noted, gripping around the base of the arrows' shafts embedded in Natalie's belly. "You're making me regret doing this. Now then Natalie dearest, which do you prefer, the really painful or the excruciatingly painful method of removing these?"
"The previous," Natalie answered.
"Alright, hold still, this is going to hurt quite a bit," she noted to Natalie.
Grabbing a hold of both arrow shafts with two hands, Miria drove them through Natalie's flesh and out her back. Natalie screamed as she did so, and did not stop doing so until after Miria had split the arrow shafts in two and taken out both sections. Miria dressed Natalie's wounds, then stitched up her navy-blue leather outfit's belly and backsides as Natalie whimpered.
"Did you have to push them out?"
Miria rolled her eyes at Natalie's complaining, holding up the wickedly pointed bodkin arrowheads, "Do you see these bodkin arrowheads? They're designed to hurt worse pulling them out than pushing them out. You need to get some additional rest this evening Natalie. Go to bed," she commanded Natalie.
Natalie, wincing slightly, hopped into her cot and then looked over.
"Mo...Miria," Natalie self-corrected, "could you tell me more stories of your warrior days?"
Miria crossed her arms, trying to look firm with Natalie, "Not tonight, you need your rest dear. Besides, I can tell you're tired."
"I'm not tired," Natalie said, a lie which was revealed by a yawn a moment later, "Ok, maybe a little," Natalie admitted.
Natalie's eyes soon closed after the carriage resumed its movement forward, the rhythmic swaying seeming to lull her to sleep. Miria watched, and after a minute tried to stifle a grin.
"God, whatever's happened to me? Why is it I feel so maternal these days?"
She glanced one more time at the blissfully sleeping Natalie tucked under the covers, then with a smile, Miria left to help clean up the mess outside.
Helen was going through the second of two red wine bottles when the carriage's back door opened to reveal Willems, the dusk light obscuring his features.
She hoisted her wine bottle, hiccupping as she did so, "Heaayyyy Willleeeeemmmsss, this is the good shit. I could drink this all day."
Willems clambered up the carriage's back steps, appearing in the candlelit wagon. The carriage was long, and mostly filled with the bed and a treasure trove of red and white wines along the walls.
"Is that so Helen?"
"What's za matter with you?"
Helen was dressed in her navy-blue leather outfit from earlier, only she had removed her sword and laid it to the right of the door. Helen petted the warm woolen mattresses of the bed to beckon Willems to her side. He blew out a pair of candles from the carriage's hanging metal chandelier, then upped the mood some more by removing his cape.
"Your Captain Miria is a scary person, you know that?"
"Uh oh," Helen commented, pouring another glass of wine for herself. "What'd ya do?"
"She grabbed me by the collar and threatened to take the rest of you and leave," he said with less than a truthful air.
"You vanted a discount, didn't you?"
Willems' face wore a look of surprise, "How did you know?"
Helen took out a second glass and poured, handing it to him.
"It's not the, hic, the first time. Here's a little advice playboy," Helen suggested, "don't ever try shitting around on a deal with Miria. Miria's nice enough ven you pay, but it payz to alvays be on, hic, Miria's good side."
Willems finished removing his boots, kicking them off at the foot of the bed.
"To be truthful with you Helen, this is probably going to be last time I'll do this journey. When the Yoma disappeared we made a bonanza, but our profits have been getting hammered by having to pay for all this security. I can't afford to keep paying for enough guards to stop ever-larger bandit armies forever, not when they're over a hundred strong."
She shook her head, "Dvwelling on it's not helpvull."
"I think I'm going to go back to Rabona and start a business there and just stay put. It's too dangerous traveling anymore," he remarked, removing his shirt.
Willems had a muscular chest, the sort girls dreamed about. Although he was a little hairy for her tastes, his great stature more than made up for it. He fell to his knees and kissed her on the neck.
"Boy, and I zought I rushed gettings into the mood," Helen remarked while setting the wine bottle down.
"I'm surprised you're not after this evening," he countered, unzipping her leather outfit down the back.
She grabbed him and gently pulled him down atop her. "I aggreez Ruud. There's nothing like wine und sex to make youz forget all offz your troubbuls."
Ruud didn't answer, but instead unzipped the front of her outfit as well, stopping tactfully just below her breasts. He pulled her uniform down to just below her breasts, and she gasped as he kissed one of her nipples.
"Eazzeee boi," Helen finished by directing his lips to her face.
As they kissed she felt his hands remove her bottoms, and his body began heating up down below, stretching his bottoms against her hips. She removed the belt holding his bottoms, and soon enough she was able to push this off as well. She could feel the heat of him rub against her below, although his attention was more on burying himself into her breasts.
He at last pressed her back against the bed and positioned himself. With a single downward stroke, his heat melded into Helen's own. She wrapped her legs around his waist, and together they began to get into a steadily stronger rhythm, breathing hard. By the time he had pressed back into her a third time, she gave out an involuntary moan of pleasure, the first of what was to be many that night.
They arrived in Toulon, a small walled town of a few dozen buildings perched romantically atop a hill. Miria was nearly asleep when they arrived, fully awakening only when the young Natalie's curly hair brushed her nose.
She sneezed and blinked open her eyes as the daylight filtered into rocking carriage through its pair of small side windows. Miria stopped short when she saw Natalie's young, innocent face and blush-red cheeks a foot from her face.
"Natalie, you mind?"
Natalie backed off and smiled awkwardly, grabbing a large claymore hanging on the wall.
"Here you are Captain Miria," Natalie said in a sweet voice, holding out the sword to her.
Miria grabbed her sword and got to her feet, looking out the window at what appeared to be a town square. Just in view was a small church, as well as a little used market for fruits and vegetables hawked by several older women.
"Natalie, in the future, just wake me up by touching me on the shoulder. If Tabitha were ever to see you waking me up with your hair, I can't say I'd like to see the consequences. Come on then, out we get."
Miria attached her sword to her back, checked to see if her clothing were properly adjusted, and then kicked open the door to be blinded by the morning sun.
"It's a good morning, isn't it Captain Miria?" Natalie exclaimed behind her, looking around with a cheery smile upon her face.
She smiled in spite of herself at Natalie's enthusiasm. Natalie's spirit never dampened, which was a godsend in the face of all the adversities they'd been through.
"What's gotten you so happy this morning?"
They clambered down the steps to see Herr Willems walking off the back of his own wooden carriage further away, dressed even more magnificently than usual in a fine red-plumed hat.
"Oh it's just we don't get to see many nice towns anymore. Plus, I found this guy," Natalie turned around, picking up a plush black-coated cat.
"Isn't he a beauty? I caught him back after the ambush and cooped him up in the carriage."
Natalie held him up to Miria's nose, and abruptly Miria felt a tingling. She tried to hold back, but Natalie pressed him straight towards her face.
"Isn't he such a wittle beauty," Natalie cooed in an affectionate voice as several townspeople, the boys especially, stared in surprise at her. "He's my little snuck-ums, aren't you sugar?"
"Natalie," Miria tried to protest.
"Ahh Captain Miria, don't you think he's the most adorable cat you've ever seen? He's going to be my spoiled little baby boy. Here, why don't you have him?"
Natalie tried to press him into Miria's arms, despite her resistance. Eventually Miria's nose could take no more, and she sneezed violently upon both Natalie and a very alarmed cat. It clawed Natalie briefly, broke free of her grip, and began running across the cobbled stone square. Natalie chased after the cat frantically.
"Cid, sweetie-pie, please come back to mommy's arms," Natalie called out as she stumbled after him to much laughter from a crowd of teenage boys nearby.
"God, a few more hours of her around in this town and we'll never be able to sell our services," Renée 's voice commented.
Miria turned to find Renée looking serious, with the thinner Tabitha wiping sleep out of her eyes while walking to Renée 's side.
"Why did Natalie have to name the cat Cid? Of all the names she could have picked," Miria muttered low.
"Easy Captain Miria," Tabitha grinned, "Natalie doesn't know you that well."
"It's still hard to believe Natalie's survived as a trainee," Renée remarked, pursing her lips. "An attitude like that ought to have gotten her killed in training. It's remarkable Natalie lasted until age fourteen when we rescued her from the Organization."
They looked down the long line of 20 wooden wagons, all of which were being hurriedly unloaded and stalls set up as curious townspeople gathered around the merchants. Miria cast a glance down the row, and was surprised to find Helen walking fully dressed out of Herr Willems' carriage. Upon Helen's face was a satisfied smirk, which Miria noted as Helen dropped down to the ground to check out the merchant activity around her.
"That goddamn girl," Miria muttered furiously. "The man tries to shake me down for a contract discount when we need every penny we can get, and look at her, she keeps bedding him!"
"The worst part is all of Helen's friends with benefits are married," Tabitha commented dryly.
"Do we really know that?"
Tabitha and Miria both turned to stare incredulously at Renée , "Ok, so they probably are all married, but I had to say it to be cautious."
Helen walked off in the opposite direction, oblivious.
"She's been like this ever since Deneve died two years ago. The only way she's been able to cope is sleeping with every good-looking, wealthy, married guy she's come upon and drinking all their alcohol," Tabitha observed unhappily.
"It's been getting worse," Renée added. "Helen thinks we aren't fighting for anything but ourselves anymore, and the more depressed she gets the more men she sleeps and drinks with."
Tabitha butted in, "Captain Miria, I hate to ask, but do you think Helen could get pregnant one of these days? I mean, she is partially awakened after all. If it can happen to Claire..."
"Perhaps," Miria whispered low as a pair of men walked by. "But Claire had pushed her limits a lot more than Helen, so Claire's body was probably more fertile when she began bedding Raki."
Tabitha stared as the town's flag, a pair of golden, twin angels on a white background, was unfurled atop the church.
Renée queried, "But why didn't Claire stay in Rabona with him? She left...what was it...around four months after we won, didn't she?"
Across the square they heard a scream of triumph as Natalie hoisted the cat Cid above her head to much laughter, having caught him at last.
Miria looked around, and finding no one in earshot, including the approaching Natalie, whispered low to both girls, "Claire and Sister Galatea had a religious disagreement...a really strong religious disagreement. Claire got pregnant before she was properly married by the Rabona Orthodox Church, and well, Galatea made certain the church would refuse to recognize their union."
Tabitha's eyes bulged, while in contrast Renée 's narrowed.
"Why is that? I thought Claire saved Galatea's life," Renée commented, scratching her forehead in confusion.
"Oh she did, but you see Claire's religion and Galatea's religion are two different animals. Galatea is a rigid believer in the idea that there is one god, and she sticks close to the conservative teachings of the Rabona Orthodox Church. Claire in Galatea's mind was a heathen, albeit a heroic one, who believed in the twin goddesses Teresa and Claire. Claire wasn't being very cautious a month after the victory and told Galatea her beliefs. They got into a huge argument over whether Teresa and Claire were goddesses or merely the angels of god like the Rabona Orthodox Church claims," Miria explained in a low voice.
"You can't be serious," Renée stuttered in disbelief. "They fell out over religion?"
"I'm perfectly serious," Miria said while folding her arms. "It was shortly after that when it became obvious Claire was pregnant. Galatea was furious with her, told her she was desecrating the holiness of life by not having gotten married first. Claire for her part slapped Galatea and left."
"Just how did you find this all out?" Tabitha asked, almost incredulous.
"Raki told me shortly before they left, and I haven't seen, heard of or felt a sign of them since they left Rabona," Miria stated, sighing.
Natalie ran back holding a hissing Cid above her head.
"I got him, did you see that Captain Miria?"
Natalie's tone seemed to suggest she wanted to be praised.
"Before we find our next paying job, I've come to a decision about something," Miria announced, ignoring the frowning Natalie.
Natalie properly ruined Miria's formal declaration by giddily placing a very annoyed Cid atop her own head. This decision was not to his pleasure, and he soon began tucking his claws into Natalie's hair and the back of her neck. Natalie yowled in pain as Cid hissed, and then began shaking back and forth to fling him off as Cid dug in his claws for dear life.
Tabitha couldn't take it, stopped Natalie in mid-swing of her head, grabbed the panicked cat, and promptly placed the cat calmly into her own arms.
"Oww," Natalie said, rubbing her neck and head gingerly where Cid had scratched.
"You oafish girl," Tabitha lectured sternly, holding Cid calmly. "If you're going to have a cat, you should learn how to play with him properly.
Renée turned back to Miria, "So what was this decision you wanted to tell us about?"
Miria took a glance at Helen, who was busily chatting with Ruud van Willems, then placed a hand on Renée 's right shoulder and looked her in the eye, "You're second-in-command now Renée ."
The news of Helen's dismissal as second-in-command behind Captain Miria was not spread to Helen's ears until later. Though Helen had pouted and shouted, she had eventually settled down. In the meantime Miria had contracted them out, although for a modest sum of gold plus food, to provide a group of refugees' passage from Toulon to northeast region of Toulouse, the central lands of the island of Toulouse. There the refugees would find refuge in Toulouse's only major port town, Hanse. It was located along the island's northeastern coast, lying in the narrow region of Toulouse on the sea. To either side, not far away, were the northern lands of Alphonse and the eastern lands of Burgund.
It had been a grueling week-long journey from Toulon, and none of them had much enjoyed it. Helen had been fuming for much of it, muttering low things no one else could quite hear but couldn't help but notice. They'd deterred two bandit attacks, since as soon as their would-be robbers saw them they fled into the hills.
When at long last the cool breezes of the sea hit their faces, Natalie was alone in her enthusiasm in running up the last hill to see it.
"Come on Renée ," Natalie shouted at her, waving her arms wildly with Cid the cat circling silkily about her atop the bared earth of the road.
Renée walked up the road, which was surrounded by large rocks and almost no trees, and sighed when at last she saw the welcoming expanse of the sea on the horizon.
"Isn't this great Renée ?"
Renée looked at Natalie, envying her vivacity.
"Oh sure, but first, I've got to stretch my legs out," Renée answered sleepily, yawning.
Renée stretched down and pulled hard upon her feet, feeling her muscles loosening and a refreshed feeling come over her. It lasted until the moment Natalie interrupted.
"Renée ," Natalie whispered. "Stop that! They're all staring at your ass!"
Renée turned around to find the culprits, nearly a dozen men and even their wives looking sheepishly away from her. Or at least some of the wives, as a couple of them promptly ran up the road to their husbands yelling at them. As they paused the poorly-dressed refugees in their worn-out shoes kept plodding past, a few of the men sparing her a cursory glance. The women however spared her nothing except a bunch of hard looks.
Eventually they passed out of earshot, and behind them, walking up the hill, came Helen with Miria at the back of the column.
"You see Miria," Helen harrumphed, pointing at her while Miria didn't even look. "Leave miss vanity alone for one minute and she's showing off her ass to..."
Miria caught Helen's jaw and clamped it shut, sternly shaking her head at Helen's antics. Miria only let go a few moments later once it was clear Helen wasn't going to back-talk.
Just a glance was enough for Renée to tell that Miria was distinctive amongst the five of them. Miria's hair featured spiky bangs, each flowing down from either side of her beautiful face. These Miria complemented with a spiky ponytail of hair in the back, which fell just past Miria's shoulders. Miria's face had wider cheeks than Helen, arched eyebrows, and Miria's eyes...
"Captain Miria, your eyes have a bit of blue in them I think," Renée declared.
"Ohh, ohh," Natalie said, bouncing in excitement, "I think you might be right!"
This for once drew Helen's attention away from sneering, "What the hell you talking about you two," Helen countered. "Miria's eyes haven't changed one bit."
Miria paid them all no heed and kept walking past.
The road down to the town ran alongside several fields stuffed full of sheep, and at last the road began a steep descent, bringing Hanse into view at last. It was a rather large town, stuffed full of more than a hundred black-roofed buildings built with steep roofs. Surrounding the town was a crude wall of stakes that any one of the warriors in the group could have sliced open with a swing. The town itself had the look of past prosperity that had fallen on harder times.
It was nestled at the top of a hill overlooking a scenic harbor and numerous small fishing boats. The water below the rocky hill of the town was picture perfect; clear enough to see through to the bottom. It had a pearly, soft-blue quality to it, and within the harbor several boys were splashing each other in the shallows.
It was when they wandered into town that they found Tabitha. She had been surrounded by a group of townspeople wielding pitchforks and shouting insults at her in the town's small central square.
"Hey you witch, get your monstrous hide out of Hanse," a teenage girl shouted at Tabitha.
"We don't need monsters like you around," a man's voice screamed.
"I'm not a monster," Tabitha shot back with not a lot of volume, "I'm a claymore!"
"Claymores and monsters are the same thing," a teenage girl interjected. "If you're just like one of us, then why are your eyes silver?"
Tabitha's tense face visibly brightened upon seeing her claymore comrades approach from behind the crowd.
"Captain Miria," Tabitha called, waving her right arm enthusiastically.
The crowd one and all turned to see the four of them. Natalie looked a little surprised at the commotion, having only just picked up Cid to find herself feet away from a mob with pitch forks.
"More witches! Quick, let's run their behinds out of town."
"They're nothing but trouble," a man seconded.
"Not to be trusted," another woman yelled.
Abruptly several of the boys and girls picked up stones off the ground and threw them, several striking Miria in the head.
"Alright you little asses," Helen thundered, drawing her sword. "The next rotten scoundrel to throw a stone at Miria or any of us I'll knock unconscious.
Helen's threat was taken quite seriously, and for a moment there was perfect silence.
A brave older woman in a blue dress stepped forward. "The town of Hanse has no use for any of you. You'll find no work here; we know it was you warriors that destroyed the Organization!"
Renée scowled, "The Organization was using you as part of an experiment!"
The woman spared Renée but a glance and continued backed up by agreeable murmuring in the crowd at each of the woman's major points.
"You say the Organization was evil, but what have you given us? We live in a world where we fear for our lives from robbers, bandits, and robber barons more than we ever did from Yoma. We would have been better off if it weren't for the rotten lot of you!"
With the woman's rant done, the crowd walked off with Helen eying the civilians with distaste and Renée wearing an unhappy expression. Tabitha came forward, smiling and evidently happy to have had her tormentors dispersed.
"Thanks guys," Tabitha said warmly.
Miria could not look any of them in the eyes, and felt just a little despair creep over her. It took a little while, but at last she could feel a single warm trickle fall down her cheek.
Helen asked while looking surprised, "Miria, are you crying?"
All four of them rushed forward to offer their sympathies.
"Oh for pity's sake, I'll be alright, it was just a moment of weakness," she sighed.
Renée dried her cheek with a hand as Tabitha offered her glove as a handkerchief.
"No, I'll be alright," Miria sniffed. "It's just that I thought we could make a difference, and here we are, and nobody here even wants our help."
Renée spoke up in an uncertain voice, "But we did the right thing helping those refugees, didn't we?"
Miria blinked her eyes, although they refused to stop moistening.
"Yes, and it will probably be the last time too. Let's face it, that old woman was right. Their lives have gotten nothing but worse in the last two years, and we've been powerless to stop that. I thought we could help people by spreading ourselves across the island, but there are only thirty five of us. I should have known it wasn't going to work," Miria sighed.
Renée suggested, "What if we joined up with Nina and Nadia's group up north?"
Miria blinked her eyes at this, having not actually thought of heading north.
"That's if they're still there," Tabitha muttered quietly.
Renée shrugged, "Nina and Nadia said they were heading north into Alphonse. They said they wanted to quit moving around and settle down in Pieta."
Miria looked at the rest of them, her eyes drying at last.
"Well, I guess there's no point in staying here for the night. How about we sleep outside the town for tonight before we go on to Pieta?"
Natalie butted in innocently, "But why would we want to head north to the northern lands if all you guys ever do is complain about how snowy it was there? How are we supposed to eat if it's nothing but snow all year?"
"I've been wondering the same thing myself," Renée added.
"You two idiots," Helen jokingly goaded, "Why would anyone settle in towns there if you can't grow food?"
Natalie's eyes bulged, "You mean it's not frozen all year?"
Tabitha's face grew an uncharacteristic smirk as she answered Natalie's question, "For seven months yes, but the growing season is still four months long. Its how we managed to keep ourselves fed for all those years. Actually, Pieta's the coldest place in the entire north, because it's nestled high up in a mountain pass."
"But Pieta's the furthest south," Natalie reasoned, "shouldn't everything further north be colder?"
"Nah," Helen stated nonchalantly, "the whole damn place is really high above sea level, that's the only reason it's so cold. The further north you go the lower the land, and the warmer the weather."
"But that doesn't make sense," Natalie reasoned, "mo...I mean Captain Miria always said the further north one goes-"
"Look you idiot," Helen blurted out, "I don't have-"
"Helen, hold your tongue before I do it for you."
Helen gulped and glanced over at her, "Yes Captain Miria, sorry big sis."
"Alright now," Miria continued on past Helen's awkward apology and Natalie's sudden annoyed scowl at Helen, "we'll be going straight to Pieta then. Any objections?"
Everyone vigorously agreed to their captain's proposal.
The night was passing peacefully enough underneath a large oak tree, where Miria was guarding the others on third shift of watch duty. The view of the sea was spectacular, given they were on a scenic bluff overlooking the ocean. The ocean breeze was particularly pleasant, and she got up to look out at the stars beneath a dark sea. It was when her eyes were wandering the starry skies that a flash of red caught her eye. Far out to sea a blob of luminous yellow, orange and red was sailing through the air in an arc, dimly visible.
"What the," Miria muttered.
The first light died out, but then a second and a third set of lights ascended from spots not far from where the first had appeared.
Miria rushed back to the rest of the others, Helen's snores covering all sounds of the others' collective breathing. She shook Renée awake, who blinked and shook her head.
"I thought you said I had fifth shift Miria," Renée complained, getting her head off her knapsack, which Renée was using as a pillow.
"Look out to sea, there's something going on!"
Renée glanced out to sea and abruptly, just below the horizon a half dozen of what looked to be fireballs launched into the sky.
Renée shook Helen awake as Miria rushed over to the blissfully sleeping Natalie, upon whose chest was sleeping Cid the cat, all curled up. Miria gently shook Natalie's shoulders as well as Tabitha's next to her.
Helen, Tabitha and Natalie all woke up, with Helen being in the foulest mood by far.
"Look Renée , I put up with you flashing your muscular ass and big breasts during the day, go get somebody else to do your damn shift!"
Renée snapped, "Oh for god's sake, I got you up to see. I think there's a sea battle going on."
The last fireball had extinguished by the time Helen and the others looked.
"Miria, Renée , look, don't wake us up if there's nothing to see," Helen lectured.
Then abruptly a massive, explosive fireball illuminated much of the horizon, including about six ships just barely visible below the horizon. But as soon as the fireball died out, the sky was once again perfectly dark.
"What the hell was that," Helen exclaimed, seeing the explosion perfectly well.
Tabitha and Natalie looked genuinely interested, but no more fireballs flew through the night. The rest of the night passed as planned, and eventually Miria was woken up by Renée as the dawn light just broke across the horizon. The others followed, but upon the horizon there was no sign of either ships or debris from whatever had happened the previous night.
The trek up to Pieta was far less eventful, and took them less than two days unburdened by having to guard columns of slow-moving humans. Large mountains met the sea as they neared the northern lands of Alphonse, and they turned west into the interior. They were forced to hunt down a deer and cut it into cat-size morsels, as Natalie's cat Cid had grown quite hungry. They ate what little of it they could and continued into the foothills.
Eventually they reached the mountain pass into Alphonse, and found the weather tolerable, as the snows were melting and wildflowers were blooming. The road, little used in the nine years since the Northern War, had become overrun with weeds and fallen rocks. No one seemed to mind, and at last they rounded a hill when they all noticed faint traces of yoki energy. Tabitha rushed forward to the top of the pass.
"They're here!"
Natalie and Tabitha were wearing enormous smiles and jumping up and down, so Miria sprinted forward to see. Upon reaching the top of the pass, a green valley opened up down below. A large former town was visible, much of it in ruins and overgrown with plants. However, some buildings within it looked repaired or vaguely usable. A narrow patch of relatively traversable terrain was before them, which they descended down towards the town. Their progress was soon halted by the presence of a large barrier placed across the road.
It was a large if crudely created wall of stones a story high, which the road pierced underneath a well-built gatehouse. It was guarded by two piles of stones higher than the rest of the wall, which extended straight to either side until it hit two rocky ledges each taller than it. A modest rusting iron gate barred the way between the two towers of stones.
"Hello," Helen yelled.
No one answered for a moment, and then abruptly the metal gate before them opened. Two men armed with spears and clad in padded leather armor ventured out. They bowed respectfully and motioned towards the open gate.
"Mistress Miria," they said in unison. "The town mayor has been expecting you."
They were taken past the gate to find fields under cultivation, mostly by young men and some women. It was only upon closer inspection and feeling the Yoki energies in the local area that they noticed what was amiss. The farm-girls were a mix of human girls and silver-eyed warriors, but clad identically in working clothes and dresses. Nearly all the warriors stood up and stared.
They followed the two gate guards into the town of Pieta, much of it still wrecked from the northern war some nine years prior. But the church had been repaired, and even a three story inn across the street. The guards led them to the inn, and opened the doors. The inn's lobby was modest, but featured a nice fireplace, carpeting, and even rocking chairs and several crude religious paintings.
"They're upstairs Mistress Miria," the guards pointed, and hurriedly jogged back to their posts.
Miria walked up the carpeted stairs, Renée beside her, Helen leading the rest of them behind with loud footsteps. At last they reached the second floor, and at the end of a narrow hall was a twin set of doors guarded by two male guards. Just above the door was a sign framed in gold that said, "Maire de la ville". Miria walked up to the door.
"Ha, somebody thinks they're a big shot," Helen commented, looking at the sign, "I wonder which one of the girls is the town mayor eh?"
The guards did not answer, merely saluting, and both put their hands out afterwards.
"Mistress Miria, it is an honor to finally meet you," they both said simultaneously, leading to some confusion on both their parts.
"I would prefer if you called me Captain Miria," she pointed out. "May I go in?"
"Our apologies Captain Miria; you may enter at any time," they answered together again, and a good-natured chuckling from Helen broke out behind her. She suddenly realized both of the bearded, sword-carrying guards looked identical to the other.
"Identical twins," one sympathized. "We have a tendency..."
"...to finish what the other says," the opposite identical twin interjected.
Miria looked between them and opened the wooden door's lion-headed latch. She found a room with a polar bear rug upon the floor in front of the door. On one side were two simple windows with black shades hanging about them. The floor was a varnished oak masterpiece, and several bookcases made of oak complemented it on the left wall. Further along the left wall was a fireplace with a fire burning even as they walked in.
The room was warm, and its warmth extended to the simple, solid maple desk at the far end. Just above it was the head of a horned monster, probably an awakened being Miria judged, mounted on the wall as a trophy. Below it and behind the desk itself were two individuals, both with silver eyes. One of them wore her blond hair pulled back into a long ponytail, a single strand of golden bangs descending down the left side of her face. This warrior was wearing a navy-blue leather uniform like the rest of them, but the woman seated in a large chair besides the warrior was not.
This woman had the silver eyes of a hybrid warrior, but her blond hair was short and curly, cutting off just above her shoulders. Her bangs hid much of her forehead, and she had thick cheeks in contrast to her thin-cheeked companion. She also had big lips and a short chin, unlike her standing companion whose attributes were much the opposite.
"Well, look at you Captain Miria," the seated warrior commented warmly. "I was hoping I'd see you come here eventually."
"Hello Nadia, Nina," Miria acknowledged the seated and standing girls in order.
Nadia was smiling at hearing her name, and Miria noticed Nadia was without her sword and wearing a simple black tunic with a white belt.
"You have got quite the start of a settlement here. I can sense twenty-seven warriors besides the five of us. If my memory is right, I believe I remembered there were thirty six warriors who survived the Organization's destruction, counting trainees as well. So then, who's missing now that there are thirty-two of us here?"
Nadia grinned, "The usual suspects of course."
Nadia got up, followed by Nina, and the two of them shook everyone's hands. Nadia and Nina both paused when they got the Natalie, who at sixteen looked youthfully out of place, especially with a black cat wrapped around the back of her neck.
"I'm Natalie," Natalie stated, holding out her hand with infectious enthusiasm.
"I can't say I remember you Natalie," Nina sniffed. "Did you ever join the ranks of warriors?"
"Umm, no, but I've been traveling with Captain Miria ever since she rescued me from my days training. I'm just sixteen, so if you want to duel take it easy please," Natalie told them, shaking Nina's hand unusually hard.
Nadia interrupted this awkwardness with a question, "So Captain Miria, did you tire of the pointless violence down south?"
It took a mere glance to see Nadia was deadly earnest about the question.
"Well, I suppose, and it does seem like a nice peaceful place to rest awhile," Miria said, honestly answering Nadia's question.
Nina and Nadia both exchanged glances before Nadia spoke up in a deeper voice: "Actually Captain, I'd like to ask if you'd consider staying...permanently," Nadia added significantly.
"This place may feel like a bit of heaven to me right now, but I could never rest while so many others suffered," Miria explained apologetically to a frowning Nina and Nadia.
"This is humanity's world, not ours, and our interference in their world has gotten us nothing but ingratitude. Tell me Miria," Nina spoke up, "do you really think we can make a difference anymore?"
"Evening Miria."
Miria turned to find a green dress-wearing Nadia seating herself next to her at the town's only bar. Miria was wearing her usual navy-blue outfit, which surprisingly had garnered a respectful reaction from the town's men folk. Miria had before her a large pint of dark beer, and although it didn't have great taste, it was at least refreshing.
"Evening Nadia," Miria murmured.
"What's with you?" Nadia asked, puzzled but smiling. "You look like you feel guilty about something. Is something the matter?"
"Drinking always makes me feel awkward," Miria admitted.
"Why's that?"
"It's because of something that happened in Murten in western Toulouse a year and a half ago," Miria explained. "It was not long after we'd broken up, and the five of us, me, Helen, Renée , Tabitha and Natalie were being generous. We allowed Murten to pay us for taking out the town's Yoma population in beer and food. Helen however drank all the beer in a night, so Renée demanded a change in future pay."
"Which was what?"
"Well, we never again took in beer as pay. Renée made me swear that I would never condone Helen's drinking after that. I took her challenge up and hadn't touched a beer until now for the last one and a half years."
Nadia merely smirked at hearing this, and then began drinking a pint of golden malt beer. A commotion broke out at the opposite end of the crowded tavern: four men, all in their late teens and early twenties judging by their faces, had approached Natalie. Natalie was not unattractive, with her long, curly blond hair, her cute face, rounded if small breasts, and obvious youth. Evidently one of the boys had been trying to wrap his arms around Natalie's shoulders when Renée had walked over and thrown them off.
There was a good deal of loud but indecipherable lecturing by Renée , whose braided hair marked her apart from every one of the other two dozen warriors present in the bar. Miria smiled, as Renée 's appearance had only momentarily thrown the men off their original target. Renée soon appeared flustered as they instead turned to her, as did many a man elsewhere in the room.
Nadia finished her beer in short order and then ordered herself another round of beer. Miria looked around the large room, which was host to a plethora of circular tables and two opposing bars. It was lit by several black iron chandeliers, each host to dozens of slowly burning candles. Nadia glanced back at Renée , who was trying her best not to blush at the attentions of more than a dozen young men.
"Shouldn't we do something Nadia?"
Nadia glanced at Renée and Natalie's awkward situation, and shook her head.
"It's best if she got used to it. There's already three of us warriors married you know," Nadia explained.
Nadia shook a golden ring upon her left hand.
"I got this from my husband Raul. He's the only goldsmith in town now, so I guess I'm a lucky lady," Nadia smiled, winking at a dark-haired man seated at the table immediately in front of them.
Raul waved back while winking at his wife, who was short and very voluptuous for a warrior.
"He's a joy to have around. He barely commented about my belly our wedding night," Nadia revealed.
"So what are we going to do here if we stay?"
Nadia drank some of her beer while she considered. Renée and Natalie meanwhile had left through the tavern's central door, both trailing a large coterie of male admirers.
"Shouldn't you put a stop to them harassing those two? Renée 's got a bit of a temper you know," Miria stated, explaining her concern.
"Oh alright Miria," Nadia sighed. "Raul honey, be a dear and help the two new girls if you would," Nadia instructed her husband, who nodded politely and left the tavern.
"Back to my question."
Nadia stared at her a moment before answering.
"I know you like fighting Miria, but there's no such work around here. There are no bandits this far into the mountains you see. Besides, we've got two dozen plus warriors here, so any attack would be pure suicide. Heck, even if we left, the men could probably defend this place easily. The only work you'll find here is pretty mundane, but honorable. We've got a need for more farmers, carpenters, tailors, metalsmiths, shepherds, clerks, bankers and more."
"I'm not sure I could adjust to being just Miria the tailor," Miria sighed.
"Trust me Miria, you'll get used to it. Besides," Nadia paused, "there are fair number of refugees from northern Toulouse coming here now. When we originally settled here two years ago, there was only ex-number 9, Nina, and ex-number 15, me. Eventually other warriors started trickling in; tired of endless fighting and no pay further south. Sometimes they brought refugees with them: men, women and even children."
"So how many people is there now Miss Mayor?"
Nadia smiled, "Well, including your group of five, that makes five hundred and three now."
The next morning found Nadia handing them keys to separate rooms at another inn, this one recently refurbished. Helen had disappeared in the company of two different men in the previous night, and they'd found her the next morning via echolocation. Or rather, figuring out where the clashing sound of swords was coming from. Both men, it turned out, were boyfriends to silver-eyed girlfriends. The two girlfriends, looking to be in their late teens, had decided to challenge Helen to a duel.
Helen, a far more experienced warrior, was on the verge of knocking both unconscious when Miria had intervened. After a short, awkward interrogation later, Helen had admitted the crime, and soon was put to work doing community service work under Nadia's watchful eyes as penance. Compared to Helen, few of the men had approached her, although the same could not be said of Natalie or Renée especially. Tabitha had few approaches, perhaps due to her intimidating maturity compared to the younger girls.
After a few days of not much ado, Miria finally settled down and selected the position of blacksmith. She was an apprentice to an older man named Heinrich, who had a graying beard and massive limbs. Things were rather awkward sometimes, as Heinrich liked to snatch glances of her chest when he thought she wouldn't notice. Eventually though she finished her apprenticeship, and was able to work on her own putting up a modest metal smith's workshop to get started.
The time had passed more quickly than Miria had expected, and already it had been a month since they'd arrived. Helen had become a farmer, and was regularly getting into spats with the farmwives over "allegations" that she'd slept with their husbands. Renée had become a clerk, as she could read and write very well. Tabitha had become a butcher, and despite the evident interest of several men, didn't show the slightest desire to return their affections. Natalie, scared of setting off on her own, had instead helped Miria put up the metal smith in an abandoned building on the town square.
Miria was hammering a wooden beam into place to properly support the dilapidated roof when a man in white robes came in through the open door. Natalie was below and working on applying mortar to some bricks to reinforce the building's foundations. There was no second floor proper, but instead Miria was standing upon a large horizontal support beam looking down at him.
The priest looked at Natalie, confused, as evidently he'd expected someone rather more impressive than a petite teenage warrior.
"Excuse me, but are you Captain Miria?"
Miria sighed and dropped down dramatically, causing the middle-aged, bald priest in white robes to jump in surprise.
"I'm Captain Miria, technically just a blacksmith-in-the-making, how can I help you Father?"
The man recovered his poise, though he looked nervous as Natalie looked on in curiosity.
"I was sent to deliver to you this message on behalf of the Rabona Orthodox Church...Captain," he added, looking doubtfully at her blacksmith apron, as well as Natalie's simple brown work tunic.
He handed her a scroll of parchment, and Miria began reading. She stopped and looked at him again.
"Who got you to me?"
"I was helped by Sister Galatea, god bless her soul," the priest explained.
"Is she here now?"
The priest shook his head, "No, she said she was needed more desperately in Rabona."
Natalie began looking very curiously at her.
"Natalie, go get Renée , Tabitha, and Helen and tell them to get dressed in their fighting outfits."
Natalie looked bewildered. "Yes, but why?"
"We may be going to war."
The mayor's office was jammed full of every silver-eyed warrior in Pieta, all thirty-two of them dressed in their best navy-blue leather combat outfits and armed with their enormous claymores. A number of the boyfriends and husbands were crowding around the outside of the warriors' circle. Miria held out the parchment and immediately a hush of interested whispering cut off as all the warriors, even Nadia, directed their eyes to her.
"As you know, I am Captain Miria, leader of the rebels that destroyed the Organization. I brought you here in full combat gear because of the message I have just received from Father Belluco," she declared.
Miria motioned to the nervous, bald Father Belluco in his white robes, who nodded to the assembly of what no doubt to him appeared the most terrifying women he'd ever lain eyes on.
"Let me put this plainly to all of you. The city of Rabona, the only civilized city and government left on the entire island, has been attacked and is now under siege."
A storm of whispering and muttering ripped through the room in waves. Miria looked back down at the parchment as the discussion began in earnest.
"Rabona has been besieged by a robber baron who is styling himself as King Charles, King of Toulouse. He has an army of 10,000 men besieging Rabona, and Father Belluco has informed me Rabona's citizens will not be able to hold out without starving for more than two months. As such, the Rabona Orthodox Church's Holy Council decided to ask for our assistance in order to lift the siege."
One girl, who had her white hair put up in a waist-long braided ponytail, held her hand up.
"But why should we help? It seems to me if he captures Rabona, he'll be able to end all the lawlessness in Toulouse," she reasoned.
"That seems like a reasonable thing to say if the man hadn't sacked three towns...what was your name again?"
"Virginia," the tall girl stated firmly.
"But you see Virginia," Miria explained, "the man took the women and children into slavery, allowed his men to rape the women before doing so, and killed all the men in each town. I ask you, do you wish for that to happen to the citizens of Rabona?"
"No, but how are we supposed to take on 10,000 men all on our own? We're not armored properly for the task, and I doubt most of us could win outnumbered by more than thirty to one. Eventually somebody will shoot you in the head with an arrow, and then what? It's not like we can replace our ranks like in the old days," Virginia countered.
Nina stepped forward, her ponytail waving around as Nina swung her head back and forth, looking over the gathered warriors, "I don't know about the rest of you, but I'm tired of being a seamstress. I don't want to sew for the rest of my life, I want to fight!"
A good deal of jeering countered Nina's simplistic speech, at while Nadia's head shook in disagreement.
Nadia asked, "What are we supposed to do once we get there Captain Miria?"
"The Rabona Orthodox Church has promised us paid positions as officers in the Rabona Holy Guards," Miria announced.
A veritable storm of argument broke out in the next second.
"Quiet, quiet," Nadia yelled out over them, quieting them a bit.
"I don't see how it concerns us," Virginia remarked.
"It concerns us because this self-styled King Charles has said he will conquer the whole of this island, including the northern lands of Alphonse," Miria declared. "Warriors, this is the biggest chance of our lives since the Organization's defeat for us to make a real difference. I say we fight!"
A roar of approval broke out from some warriors, while Nadia hid her eyes with a hand.
"But what if Rabona just reverts to its old ways and doesn't help anyone outside its walls like they always have?"
"Look Virginia," Miria said, exasperated, "I can assure you, that this time we won't be letting Rabona get away with not owning up to its responsibilities. Now who's with me?"
Despite anxieties of boyfriends and husbands, the thunder of applause was nearly unanimous.