For Want of a War

Chapter 3: Delita

oOo

I couldn't contain my grin as Ramza tugged on his gauntlets, settling his helm and nervously preparing himself as Zalbag casually limbered up across the way. Despite the fact the practice space was large enough for a dozen such fights, it came as no surprise to me that everyone had stopped what they were doing to form a large circle.

Included in that circle was a woman I recognized. With a casual smile and a wave, I joined her and the few soldiers of the Death Corps who'd shown up to practice. I could see the confusion plain on their faces as to why the Hokuten elite were watching a cadet face off against his older brother, but saw that nobody was willing to inform, or even associate with them.

"So... What's the big deal?" A bulky squire finally asked me, his dark eyes squinting as he glanced between my best friend and his older brother.

"That's simple, my friend. They're Beoulve men," I responded, catching the flash of indignation on Miluda's face as I said it. A similar expression was mirrored on the faces of the three other Death Corps members, and I chuckled. "Oh, it's not because they're nobles. This is Igros. Nobles fight other nobles all the time. Most of the men here can probably lay claim to a high-status lineage of some sort, I imagine."

"Then why is it interesting?" Miluda finally asked, curious.

"They're both the sons of Balbanes Beoulve," I responded. Which is all the explanation I needed, really. It's not lightly that one could call a man like T.G. Cid a rival and have the man reciprocate the statement, but it's something Balbanes had been doing for decades, now. Even to commoners, he and Orlandu were war heroes whose exploits were told in bars far and wide. Of course, even without the need to say it, I added, "And both of them were trained by him personally from a young age. My friends, you're about to see an Ark Knight take a mere squire seriously."

I grinned at the slow excitement dawning on their faces. We turned to watch the fight, noting that both Ramza and Zalbag were ready.

"Do you still have the Angel Ring father gave you, Ramza? I'll try to be careful, but I can't promise you won't use it!" Zalbag called cheerfully, sliding a foot slightly to the left as he readied his practice blade and shield. I grinned as Ramza didn't respond at all, merely charging in.

Anyone else charging against Zalbag like that would have been a fool. The man was far too experienced to be overcome with a charge. Which is probably why Ramza dipped his practice blade into the ground, expertly flicking a dusty clod of dirt and gravel towards Zalbag's eyes a few steps out.

Ramza's older brother had only a second to make a choice: Sidestep the shot and put himself off balance for when Ramza reached him, or raise his shield and lose visibility of his younger brother when Ramza reached him. Either way, Zalbag must have known he would be at a disadvantage.

The youngest legitimate Beoulve chose the former, using his shield to try to bash Ramza off his feet. Ramza had apparently anticipated the move, for his own shield came up and the two collided with a terrific crash, rocking both Beoulves onto one foot as they attempted to maintain their balance. As Ramza's foot came down first despite the wince on his face, I recognized his plan.

While Ramza hadn't been set for the blow and it had probably hurt his shoulder a good deal, his momentum meant that he'd regained his balance first. Zalbag only realized this as both his younger brother's feet were on the ground, and the man knew he was in danger.

He slashed out with his blade while still on one foot, despite the lack of leverage. Ramza was forced to duck, and doing so delayed his own slash long enough for Zalbag to get his shield in the way of the blow. Ramza snarled and stepped in and roughly body-checked the older of the siblings just as Zalbag got his other foot down, and that was the only reason he slid back instead of falling down completely.

"You've gotten better, little brother," Zalbag admitted, rubbing the scale mail over his chest. He tilted his head. "I guess I should start taking you seriously."

"I'm not sure I should be taking you seriously, Zal," my friend replied with a grin, shifting his weight a little as he did so. "That trick wouldn't have worked on you six months ago. Is sitting at a desk instead of on a chocobo making you flabby, brother?"

With a scowl, Ramza's brother went on the offensive, coming in viciously with a series of thrusts and slashed that Ramza, even prepared for it, was very hard-pressed to simply defend, let alone counter. He jumped back in desperation and threw his shield in the way of the hard thrust which actually stripped his shield from his grasp, the forearm strap snapping and the shield clattering at our feet.

The thrust, however, had left Zalbag off balance. Once again, Ramza was quicker to regain his balance. His practice scimitar once again slashed in wildly, and Zalbag's shield caught it. That left him wide open for the punch Ramza drove into his jaw, sending the man stumbling back a few steps and putting my friend on the offensive briefly before a riposte from his brother forced him to briefly disengage.

"Really, Ramza?" Zalbag slurred voice asked, annoyed as he rubbed his jaw. "What the devil makes you think to punch, anyway? I know you haven't qualified for any monk training, yet."

"Mistress Tristana thinks I have talent and has been tutoring me on the side," Ramza informed him smugly, bouncing on his heels. He grinned and bent low, launching himself in a run towards his brother once more.

Zalbag tried a straight thrust, turning to the side and presenting Ramza with only the profile of his body, his shield tucked away. I saw no surprise register on his face when Ramza ducked low at his attack, and groaned to myself as Zalbag's hind foot quickly swept out and took Ramza in the chest, sending him stumbling forward. He planted one hand and rotated on it, turning a sprawl into a neat recovery as he landed on his feet and met Zalbag's counter-charge.

"Tristana always thought it was a waste I never learned from her!" Zalbag yelled as they met, and their blades crossed. Ramza's free hand immediately leapt up to his hilt, allowing him to press down on Zalbag until the older Beoulve threw his shield free to catch the back of his own practice blade on the heavy forearm plates he habitually wore.

Ramza slid a foot back, trying to throw his brother off-balance with a shove as he did so. Zalbag countered by immediately lessening the pressure for a moment, and then thrusting hard himself, forcing Ramza back a foot or two as the dust gave way beneath my friend's feet.

Both brothers had identical grins on their faces.

It's at times like that in which I am very, very glad that Ramza takes it easy on me when we spar. It's not that I'm a bad warrior, but I know that close quarters combat is never something that is going to be a strength of mine. I've got a quick mind, but I lack the instinct required to counter such small changes in stance. Against vicious experts like these, I'd be little more than a brief delay.

Ramza slid in and pressed down, thrusting with his whole body and actually headbutting Zalbag as he did so. This gave him a brief window in which he slashed against Zalbag's practice blade, nearly ripping it from his brother's hand before lifting his sword up once more. The elder Beoulve saw what was coming.

Ramza's blow came down and barely moved Zalbag at all. What should have been a crushing blow instead was as light as a feather. I'm not even certain that the blow or Zalbag moving to retaliate was what caused the shift in the elder Beoulve's position.

Dawning realization came on just as Zalbag's thrust struck Ramza dead centre in the forehead, sending him tumbling off balance. My friend didn't even have time to recover before Zalbag hammered a vicious slash into Ramza's chest. He barely had time to cough as Zalbag kicked him in the stomach before hammering the hilt of his sword onto Ramza's back, sending him face first into the ground.

Ramza groaned as he slowly rolled over, lifting his head to glare at his brother.

"Cheater," my blond friend muttered, spitting out bits of dirt.

"Ark Knight, little brother. The term is Ark Knight," Zalbag said, scratching his chin briefly and glancing off before redirecting his gaze back at Ramza. "Well, I suppose you're a passable warrior. I actually had to use something more than basic swordplay to utterly defeat you, so I suppose next time we spar I'll actually take you seriously."

"I swear I'm going to take geomancer training just to counter that trick," Ramza promised, still laying on his back.

"Yes yes, the nasty Ark Knight robs thee of thine strength, rendering your blows as gentle as the falling snow. I won't apologize for it any more than you would had you actually gotten that dirt into my eyes," Zalbag replied, walking away.

I glanced over at Miluda. A small part of me wondered how long her jaw had been dropped like that before I filed the thought away and began to walk over to my friend.

"You've got dust on your backside," I informed him smugly, smiling down at him for a moment before offering my hand. He took it and I pulled him to his feet, his grin matching my own.

"I've got dust on my everything. Yes yes, Delita... Tables can turn on me. I am aware of this, you know," Ramza said, rolling his eyes. "Let's go. We have a full day ahead of us."

"You know we're both coated in dust,," I told him, pulling him down another path than the one he'd set us on. At his confused look, I continued, "I'm certainly not uncouth enough to go visit my sister still coated in the sweat and dust of my morning spar, and Alma certainly will kill you horribly should you show up in the same condition. We're off to the baths, Ramza."

We'd taken a few dozen steps before Ramza finally spoke.

"I intended to change and brush my hair, you know," he informed me, a little contritely, I thought.

"And we both know that Alma would have noticed anyway," I replied. I glanced back at the Death Corps group and, wonder of wonders, Miluda had finally closed her mouth. Though I did notice that her gaze was squarely upon my blond friend's retreating form.

I glanced at Ramza before grinning to myself and continuing on. I'd have to encourage that one.

The look on Dycedarg's face would be priceless if it panned out. He'd already been vocal enough about disagreeing with the agreement his father had signed. If he had to sit down to dinner with Weigraf Folles himself, he'd probably be positively apoplectic.

oOo

Author's Notes:

Woo, first chapter not from Ramza's perspective! Yeah! Also, I needed to remind you all that I can, and often do, write freaking awesome battle scenes. This was pure filler to get my combat on.

Zalbag kinda had to win that one in the end, even if Ramza won a "victory". Don't worry... Ramza will catch up. Eventually. But this chapter was to show that last chapter, Ramza was sort of toying with Delita. Which sort of pans out in-game, really. Thanks to the poor A.I, by the time Chapter 1 ends Delita will be a half-decent Archer at best, while Ramza could be far ahead of him even WITHOUT level grinding or any random battles. To me that means Ramza's a bit of a fighting prodigy.

Generics? What about them?

-Gaming Ikari