Chapter 2: Regna Ferox
"Good morning, Robin!" Chrom called cheerfully, as Robin joined the rest of the Shepherds in the courtyard. Robin rubbed his eyes blearily and noticed that the sun was only barely peeking over the horizon. He had expected the courtyard to be empty a while longer, but Chrom, Lissa, Frederick, Sully, Sumia, and Vaike were already there. Vaike and Chrom appeared to be sparring, while Frederick and Sully were performing various calisthenics. Lissa and Sumia looked to be going through the supplies one last time before departure.
"Good morning," Robin answered drowsily. "Sorry, I only just woke up," he apologized, stifling a yawn.
"No worries, Frederick's morning exercises will wake you right up!" Lissa said cheerfully.
"Actually, milady, as our tactician, I believe it is Robin's responsibility to check through our supplies before we leave. As much as I appreciate your willingness to help, I believe you should leave Robin to his work and partake in our exercise routine yourself," Frederick suggested. Lissa chose not to dignify his suggestion with a verbal response, and instead simply stuck her tongue out at him before going back to digging through the supplies.
Going through the supplies didn't take long, and a few minutes later, Robin joined Frederick and Sully in their exercises. At Frederick's insistence, Lissa and Sumia followed suit, rather reluctantly. After about half an hour, Robin began to understand Lissa's aversion – they hadn't even left the castle and already his entire body was sore.
"Alright, let's get going!" Chrom said, apparently tired of the sparring. Vaike was panting on the ground, entirely out of breath. Apparently the match had proved rather one-sided. The only new addition to their group was Virion, who Sully had been making a great effort towards ignoring.
"What about the others, milord?" Frederick asked.
"They will catch up," Chrom said with a shrug. "We'll set an easy pace until they do." With that, the Shepherds set off, with only a single castle worker in tow, driving the oxen-pulled wagon with their supplies.
Less than half an hour later, the Shepherds heard a loud shout from behind them.
"Wait for me! Wait!" Another young man, this one with short brown hair and dark green armor, mounted on a brown stallion, was racing to catch up to them.
"Careful there, Stahl," Frederick warned. "You don't want to tire your mount out too fast."
Stahl obediently hopped off the poor mount, grumbling. "Why am I the last to hear about the expedition to Ferox?"
"Huh?" Lissa asked, surprised. "But wasn't Vaike supposed to…" she trailed off as realization set in. "Vaike! Did you forget to tell Stahl about our mission?"
Vaike had the decency to adopt a mildly sheepish expression. "The Vaike never forgets! I just, don't always remember, is all…"
"Ugh. I swear, you'd forget your own name if you weren't constantly saying it yourself," Lissa pouted. "Speaking of which, are you sure you remembered your axe this time?"
"Hey!" Vaike protested angrily. "That was one time! Okay, maybe twice, but training sessions don't count! Anyways, it's right here," he said, presenting his axe. "Teach is loaded and ready for action!" He turned to Stahl. "Glad to have you along, Stahl, ol' buddy!"
Stahl groaned. "Well, that makes one of us. I was in such a hurry I forgot breakfast! There were muffins, and cakes, and…"
"Your name is Stahl, right?" interrupted Robin.
"Ah! You must be Robin. Miriel told me about you before I left." Stahl then turned to Chrom. "Speaking of which, Miriel said she'd be along shortly."
Chrom nodded. "Good. By the way, Robin," he said, turning to the tactician, "Miriel is one of our mages. She's a little bit eccentric but quite clever."
"Milord! Risen up ahead!" Frederick warned suddenly.
"Risen?" Robin asked curiously.
"The undead monsters from before. Our encounter with them in the woods was not the only sighting of them," answered Chrom. "Frederick and I thought they needed a name, especially if we're going to be seeing more of them. But I had no idea they'd spread this quickly," Chrom continued, gesturing to the shambling creatures on the field below them. Unlike the pack from the woods who had all carried axes, some of these risen carried swords and lances instead, and were spread out, wandering aimlessly.
"We'll have to clear them out," Frederick remarked. "We can't let them roam until they happen upon a village."
Chrom nodded his assent. "Everyone, stay alert! Remember what we're up against!" And with that he started down the road, the shepherds in tow.
"Ha! They'll remember ME once I drive my axe into their…" Vaike began to boast, but he trailed off, a look of horror sprawled across his face. "My axe! Where's my axe?"
"This is no time for jokes Vaike!" Chrom berated angrily.
"I'm serious! I just had it a minute ago!" Vaike said defensively.
"Keep to the rear with Sumia then," Frederick said quickly, as the risen had spotted the approaching shepherds. "Now move!"
Frederick led the charge immediately, with Sully and Stahl in tow, the three riders rushing down the field towards the nearest group.
"Wait!" Robin cried, hoping to stall their charge. To his surprise, Frederick did stop, the other two riders following suit. "Frederick, leave those on the hill to Chrom and I. Cut across the field with Sully and Stahl and drive back those swordsmen!" Robin instructed, gesturing towards a slightly farther group of risen. There four risen there, three of them carrying rusty blades, and the last clutching a pole arm. "Virion!" Robin added. "Follow Chrom and me, but not too closely."
"But of course, my egregious commander," Virion answered smoothly.
Frederick glanced across at the other force, then nodded to confirm that he had heard Robin, before leading Stahl and Sully towards them. The three axe-bearing risen they had closed in on made to give chase at first, but turned around when Robin and Chrom approached.
"Why'd you send them over there?" Chrom questioned as they drew closer. At the pace they were moving, he and Robin would meet the risen in the middle of a small copse of trees.
"These risen carry axes," Robin answered. "The heavier weapons are sturdy enough to parry lances easily. Frederick and Sully would fare better against the swordsmen, where their reach gives them the advantage. Besides, you and I can move through the woods more easily than their horses can."
Chrom shrugged. "Good thinking, but we may be outnumbered here." Then he frowned. "I guess we'd be outnumbered anyways."
Predictably, the trained Shepherds managed to handle the risen rather easily. Robin retreated after bringing down his first foe, when a second managed to land a glancing blow on him. Virion proved to be of little help – his attention rested solely on the riders across the field. Robin looked on enviously as Chrom, clearly a more talented swordsman, easily dispatched the remaining two. Lissa came rushing towards him, but he forestalled her help, drawing forth a small pouch from his belt instead. Across the field, the riders had cleaned up the other group and were returning. But the battle wasn't over yet – a dozen more of the risen had noticed them from across a nearby river, and were marching over the narrow bridge.
"Excellent!" A stern voice sounded behind him. A woman with dark red hair and pair of spectacles stood there, dressed in black and forest green robes. "It seems my timing was perhaps a mote short of perfection. But that is of little consequence," she said, talking to herself.
"Miriel!" Lissa called. The mage acknowledged Lissa's greeting with a slight nod, but her attention remained on the risen.
"Now, to extirpate these brutes," she announced, as she started making her way down the field.
"Miriel!" Robin interrupted.
"Ah, you must be Robin, the tactician Chrom appointed rather unceremoniously," the bespectacled woman said, turning to him.
"Yes, that's me. Look, gather Virion, the clown with the long light-blue hair over there, and head to the bridge. I'll ask Frederick to try to hold the risen at the bridge. When you two catch up, we can clear them out from a safe distance.
Miriel acknowledged his instructions with a nod, then paused. "Hmm? Is that an axe?" She gestured towards a shining object laying on the meadow a short distance away. "Perhaps someone mislaid it," she said, as she lifted it from the ground.
"My axe!" Vaike cried. He raced over to Miriel, who glared at him.
"I wondered what manner of ignoramus would mislay their weapon," Miriel remarked. "Now I know."
"Thanks, Miriel!" Vaike said cheerfully, before wresting his axe from her grip and rushing down towards the bridge. In the meantime, Virion had finally snapped to attention upon seeing a signal from Miriel. The two of them rushed to the bridge, as Robin and Chrom set off to regroup with their victorious cavalry. Robin quickly outlined his plan, and the knights set off, only just beating the other Shepherds to the bridge.
Frederick, Chrom, Vaike, Stahl, and Sully carried out Robin's instructions beautifully, striking the nearest foes and retreating repeatedly to keep their risen foes from retaliating. With their foes distracted, Robin, Virion, and Miriel launched a barrage of magical lightning and fire, punctuated with arrows, cutting the rest of the risen down quickly. By the time Lissa and Sumia caught up with the supply caravan, the battle was over.
"Good riddance," Chrom said, as he strolled away from the piles of ash the risen had left behind.
"Indeed. These risen are a blight upon our land," Frederick remarked, a trace of bitterness in his tone. "We will need to remain vigilant – no road is truly safe now."
When the supply caravan, Robin immediately distributed medical supplies to those who needed them. Frederick had packed several pouches of vulnerary herbs and bandages. According to Lissa, her staff was limited in power. It seemed prudent to conserve its magic if possible, and rely on conventional healing methods. Thankfully, none of the others had suffered more than a few minor scrapes and cuts, and the gash on his own arm was the worst of it. Before long, they were on the road again.
A few hours later, they came to a river just as the sun began to set. "A good place to set up camp," Chrom commented. "Get some rest, everyone. We have no idea what tomorrow will bring."
Apart from Frederick and Sully, the Shepherds were tired and grateful for the reprieve. Less than half an hour, Frederick was calmly roasting a wild boar over an open fire, while numerous tents had been set along the riverbank.
Robin frowned as he approached Frederick uneasily. In their battle with the risen, his lack of experience with the blade definitely showed. Frederick still distrusted him, but was clearly the most experienced fighter in the group, not to mention the most experienced instructor. "Frederick," he greeted hesitantly.
"Yes, Robin?" Frederick answered calmly, as he continued turning the roasting boar. His attention, though, remained on Vaike, Stahl, and Virion who were playing some sort of card game a short distance away.
"I have a request," Robin began. "I carry a sword, but I'm afraid my skills aren't quite up to par."
Frederick turned to Robin, surprised. "You would ask me to train you? Robin, you've proved yourself a credible tactician already, and your magical talents more than compensate for your inexperience with the blade."
"Maybe," Robin said, unconvinced. "But there are situations in which another capable swordsman could prove valuable."
Frederick nodded slowly. "If you'd like me to train you, then I will be glad to assist. I will find you when we have time. But for now, you should rest." With that, he turned his attention back to the campfire.
"Thanks," Robin said. Silently, he wondered what he was getting himself into, remembering the morning's exercise routine. But it was for the best, wasn't it?
The evening's meal proved far more acceptable to Lissa than the roasted bear from the night in the woods. The Shepherds chattered cheerfully. Winning battles decisively had that effect on soldiers, Chrom mused. Though his own career as a warrior was short, he had seen the aftermath of a battle gone south, and was glad that, so far, they've avoided the heavy atmosphere of grief and doubt that accompanied costly skirmishes.
The Shepherds were more than just friends, he decided. They were family. And it put his heart at ease to see his family at peace. He looked around, happy to see the others engrossed in their conversations. Interestingly enough, most of the Shepherds were about the same age, having seen just a couple decades of life. Robin looked to be his own age, as did the tagalong archer, Virion. Lissa was a couple years younger, Miriel, Vaike, and Frederick a couple years older. "Just like normal soldiers," Chrom noted quietly. Young, reckless, and ready to serve their homeland. Hopefully he wouldn't let them down.
Not long after they set up camp, Robin had noticed a stack of books in the back of the supply caravan. As it turns out, the books belonged to Sumia, who was an avid reader. He asked to borrow some, particularly those relating to strategy or military history, and had turned in for the night early, clutching a small tome. "He does seem quite driven," Chrom muttered aloud. If Robin could continue to deliver such clean victories to the Shepherds, even a dangerous road didn't look quite so long.
As the night grew darker, the Shepherds began to disperse for the night. After stifling a strong urge to yawn, Chrom decided it was time for him to turn in for the night as well. But as he walked towards his tent, he realized that he should check on the animals – the horses and oxen were tethered to trees a short distance from the camp.
A few hundred feet of the camp, he suddenly lost his footing. He tried to catch himself, but the ground caught up to him first.
"Captain!"
Chrom crawled to his feet and turned, surprised to see Sumia racing towards him.
"Are you alright?" the girl asked, seemingly on the verge on panic.
"I'm fine," he reassured. "I tripped over a pebble, that's all," he said, as he brushed the dirt from his clothes, and kicked the offending stone away.
"It's because you're exhausted!" Sumia said. "You've been working too hard lately!" Chrom looked at her, surprised – she was more assertive than he had expected, given her normal stammering and nervousness.
"A bit," Chrom admitted. "But so is everyone else. Fighting wears on everyone pretty quickly."
"Maybe, but you're not just fighting, you're also our leader," Sumia continued. "You carry a burden far greater than anyone else."
"It's kind of you to say so," Chrom said gently. "But everyone looks to their commander for inspiration. Tired or not, I have to stay strong."
Sumia shook her head. "I can't imagine what it's like… but that's only more reason for you to get some more rest, Captain. There's no need to pretend."
"But there is," Chrom countered. "We're facing a war. If things worsen, we need capable leaders. Emmeryn can't be left standing alone."
"Neither can you," Sumia insisted. "We're here for you, remember? Every one of us."
Chrom couldn't help but smile at that. "Alright. You win. I'll make sure to get plenty of rest tonight. I'm just going to go check on the animals, then I'll head straight to my tent. Alright?"
"You'll head back to your tent now," Sumia proclaimed. "I'll go check on the animals for you." Chrom looked ready to protest again, but Sumia cut him off. "Unless you want the entire camp to hear that our mighty leader was bested by a pebble," she added, with a sly grin.
"You know, this is beginning to sound like blackmail," Chrom protested weakly.
"Good night, Chrom!" Sumia insisted, waving cheerfully as she walked away.
"Up and at them, Robin."
Robin yawned and rubbed his eyes. He had hoped getting to bed a little earlier would make it easier to wake in the mornings, but it felt like he had only just fallen asleep before Frederick's voice called him back to consciousness.
He donned his cloak before crawling out of his tent. To his surprise, it was still dark out.
"Frederick?" he asked, slightly confused.
"Good morning, Robin. Sorry to wake you a bit early, but I was fortunate enough to finish my chores early, and thought it would be a good time for those lessons you asked for. Now, come along," Frederick said, matter-of-factly, as he strolled down towards the woods. "We wouldn't want to wake the others with the inevitable noise."
Robin silently reminded himself that this was his own idea. There was no graceful way to back out now, and we was already awake, anyways. He brushed away a few feeble excuses that came to mind before following Frederick into the nearby woods. An hour later, every muscle in Robin's body was sore, and those feeble excuses suddenly sounded far more reasonable. He had found Frederick's morning exercises difficult, but his training routine was absolutely brutal.
"Pay attention to your stance, Robin," Frederick insisted, as he continued striking at Robin with a sword-length wooden pole. "You're leaving yourself dangerously exposed." A few more blows later and Robin's pole flew from his grip. "Mind your grip – your movements are awkward and with each parry, you find yourself in a more difficult position. You're anticipating my attacks well but you need to prepare yourself for the blows better. It's not simply a matter of putting your blade in front of mine. Angle your blade more carefully, and prepare yourself so that your motions can connect fluidly. Again!"
By the time the sun peeked over the horizon, Robin and Frederick had sparred for over two hours. Finally, Robin collapsed, heart racing, gasping for fresh air. "I… think… I'm… dying…" he managed between gasps.
"You're exaggerating, I hope," Frederick remarked. His breathing was steady, but the beads of sweat on his forehead convinced Robin that, maybe, just maybe, the knight was human after all. "Your form has improved drastically though – you are quite the natural with the sword."
"I suppose…" Robin managed. He had managed to slow his breathing slightly, but was still feeling a bit light-headed. "This is exhausting," he said with another groan.
"You will grow stronger," Frederick assured. "I'll wake you half an hour earlier tomorrow and you can join me for my morning jog." Robin's expression became one of alarm.
"Thanks, but," Robin began, frantically searching for an excuse.
"No buts. We'll make a fine swordsman out of you," Frederick said cheerfully before heading back towards camp.
Robin watched as Frederick briskly marched back. It only occurred to him then that throughout their training, Frederick hadn't made a single comment about his amnesia. Perhaps he was finally coming around. "If I'm really lucky, I might enough survive becoming friends with him," Robin remarked dryly, before trudging towards the camp himself.
They continued their march, which proved thankfully uneventful. On the morning of the fourth day, Chrom announced that they were expected to reach Regna Ferox by the afternoon, and the Shepherds, with exception of an exhausted tactician, continued with a renewed spring in their step. To be fair, it wasn't entirely Frederick's fault this time. As the training regimen became routine, it began to feel slightly less tiring. But on the first night of the journey, he had asked to borrow some books from Sumia. Sumia's collection was mostly fiction, and she was rather distraught when she realized she couldn't help Robin. To placate her, Robin quickly asked for one of the fictional adventure novels instead, which he set aside.
The night before, curiosity got the best of him, and he spent the evening engrossed in a tale of rogues and wyverns traveling the wilds. That proved another decision he would quickly regret, as his morning training proved twice as miserable when he was half-asleep to begin with.
The weather had grown colder over the past few days, and by midday, they were treading upon a freshly fallen blanket of snow. Still, the Shepherds were undaunted, and their spirits only lifted further when Frederick pointed out their destination was in sight.
"It's probably less than five miles out," Chrom announced, as he gestured towards the rather drab fortress in the distance. Vaike cheered – annoying as he could be at times, he was always in a contagiously bright mood.
Robin joined the cheers, until a sudden motion a few hundred feet to the left of their path caught his attention. He relaxed when he noticed it was a large animal of some sort. Its exact shape was hard to make out, as it was as white as the snow around it.
"Robin?" Chrom asked, noticing the tactician had stopped.
"Oh! Sorry," Robin said. "I just noticed there was something over there. An animal of some sort, I think." Only Chrom and Lissa had heard, and both looked in the direction Robin was pointing.
"I think it's a Pegasus!" Lissa said suddenly, excited. That got the attention of the rest of the Shepherds. She then took off, running over to get a closer look.
Chrom shrugged. "We'll be right back," he told the other Shepherds, as he and Robin raced to catch up to Lissa.
Lissa had come to a stop several feet away from creature. It was definitely a Pegasus. The magnificent horse had lustrous white hair, a full but unkempt mane, and two wings of large, white feathers. The creature eyed them as they closed in but otherwise remained still.
"It's a Pegasus alright," Chrom said. "But I think it's hurt. Look at its leg." One of the Pegasus's hind legs was bent rather awkwardly. Chrom approached the animal carefully, fumbling for his pouch of medical supplies. But the Pegasus had other ideas. As he closed in, it reared up in a panic and flailed its front legs at the approaching man, letting out a short cry.
"Whoa!" Chrom said, backing up instantly. "Easy there!"
"Captain!" Sumia said, catching up to them.
"I'm alright, I'm fine," Chrom said, his voice a bit shaky. Sumia's gaze was transfixed on the Pegasus though. "Sumia!" Chrom cried, as Sumia slid past him and approached the animal.
"It's alright!" she assured him, as she removed her right gauntlet and extended her hand. The Pegasus eyed her nervously for a bit, but there was no sign of the violent reaction Chrom had elicited.
Chrom, Lissa, and Robin looked on in awe as Sumia gently stroked the Pegasus's mane. "Easy now, girl. I won't hurt you," she said quietly.
"How did you do that?" Chrom asked, dumbfounded.
"I have a way with animals," Sumia said nonchalantly. "You all go on ahead – I'll dress her wounds and we can catch up as soon as we can."
"Are you sure?" Robin asked, clearly uneasy about leaving their least experienced soldier alone in the wild.
"Positive," Sumia answered calmly, still stroking the Pegasus.
With a shrug, Chrom passed over the pouch he still held. "Stay safe, Sumia. And take your time," he said, also a bit nervous. And with that, he led Robin and Lissa back to the waiting Shepherds.
Within a few hours, the Shepherds found themselves standing in the shadow of their destination. Regna Ferox may have appeared drab from a distance, but the up close, the fortress was foreboding and intimidating. The howling winds certainly didn't make the Shepherds feel any more comfortable.
"This is the Longfort," Chrom explained. "It stretches along the border of Ylisse and Regna Ferox. Our destination lies just beyond this gate."
"The khans that rule Ferox have grown quite wary of foreigners. They may not be as hospitable as you're expecting," he reminded the group. "But don't mistake it for open hostility." Turning to Chrom, he added, "Milord, this simply calls for a little tact and diplomacy."
Chrom acknowledged the reminder with a nod. "I know, Frederick. Negotiation's not my strongest suit but I'll do my best."
As they approached the wall, though, the mood became considerably grimmer, as a javelin was thrown from the wall, landing only a few paces away from Chrom.
"Halt!" a voice demanded. The commander, a rather tall woman in heavy armor, stepped to the edge of the ramparts above. "Who goes there?" she demanded.
"In the name of House Ylisse, we've come seeking an audience with the khans," Chrom shouted back. It was impossible to be heard over the wind otherwise.
"Not another step!" the commander cried out, as Chrom stepped closer to ensure he could be heard.
"Hold, milady!" Frederick pleaded. "Exalt Emmeryn herself sent us to discuss matters of mutual interest!"
"My only interest is to keep you brigands out of Regna Ferox!" the woman retorted fiercely.
"We are not brigands!" Chrom protested. "I am Prince Chrom of Ylisse, accompanied only by those who have willingly put their lives at risk to defend our halidom!"
"Hah! A likely tale!" the woman jeered. "You claim to be a prince of Ylisse? Then prove it the Feroxi way: on the battlefield!"
Frederick and Chrom flinched – this was certainly not part of the plan. But before they could protest, the commander shouted out an order, and the Feroxi soldiers readied their javelins.
"Chrom! Frederick! Get back!" Robin shouted. Frederick reacted immediately, pushing Chrom back, before retreating himself. But he had underestimated the range of the javelins thrown. Chrom staggered to his feet, just as several more javelins flew straight towards him.
Something white streaked across the battlefield, whisking Chrom away just in time. Robin and Frederick followed the blur, panicked, before realizing what it was. Sumia was riding on the back of the Pegasus they had found, clutching Chrom's hand desperately as he dangled from the side of the Pegasus, high up in the air. As the Pegasus slowed its ascent, Sumia managed to help Chrom climb onto the Pegasus's back as well.
"Better hold on tight," she warned, as the Pegasus went into a dive, landing carefully amidst the rest of the Shepherds.
"That was timely," Chrom said faintly.
Sumia smiled, her usual nervousness setting in now that the adrenaline rush was over. "I-I'm just glad we made it. In time, I mean," she stammered.
"Is this really that same Pegasus we met on the road?" Robin asked curiously. The Pegasus wasn't even limping, although there were a few bandages on her previously wounded leg. Sumia had evidently groomed her, as well, for the mane was now spotless and orderly.
"She's a real sweetheart, aren't you, Caeda?" Sumia said, gently petting her newest friend, any trace of nervousness gone now that the subject had turned to her surprising mount.
"Very touching," Frederick commented distractedly. "But I think it's best if we direct our attention to the Feroxi."
"Right," Chrom said, his face set with grim determination. He turned and watched as some soldiers filed down the narrow staircases. "The Feroxi way it is!"
The battle proved a short one. Robin knew it was best not to harm their enemies more than necessary. He divided the force into two groups, one for each of the stairways the Feroxi were approaching from. Once their enemies were sufficiently distracted, Sumia flew Chrom up to the top where he could challenge the enemy commander directly.
Robin led Stahl and Virion to his side. After a quick skirmish with the first pair of soldiers to greet them, he felt vindicated for his efforts to train with Frederick – their first opponents were beaten soundly, without ever getting close to landing a blow on Robin. Stahl was less fortunate, a stray arrow catching him on the arm, but his armor took the brunt of the attack.
And then, to Robin's surprise, additional reinforcements for the Shepherds arrived in the form of the dark-haired shepherd he had met back in Ylisse. The man's oversized armor shielded him from the worst of his foes, and with his help, the Feroxi found themselves surrounded and struggling.
"Who are you?" Robin asked curiously, as the fighting came to an end.
"Kellam, sir!" the man answered. "I'm a Shepherd… or at least I was. I think I still am? It's quite the honor after all, I'd hate to lose it…"
"How did you get here?" Robin asked, confused.
"I've been with you all the whole time," Kellam answered. "I guess I am a bit easy to miss…"
Robin looked at Kellam incredulously. How anyone could move so quietly in such a large and heavy suit of armor was beyond him. But now that he thought about it, he had noticed an extra tent each night. In fact, he may even have seen Kellam walking through the camp once or twice.
A shout from a Feroxi soldier brought him back to reality – Chrom had captured the Feroxi commander, and the battle was over.
"A thousand apologies, Prince Chrom," the female commander, Raimi by name, pleaded. "I truly mistook you for brigand imposters. I'm afraid the bandits have been plaguing our doorstep for months."
"No harm done," Chrom said agreeably, accepting the apology. Only a couple Feroxi soldiers had been seriously wounded, and both were expected to survive. The Shepherds had escaped relatively unscathed, despite the vicious reputation that accompanied the Feroxi warriors.
"Allow me to escort you to the khan," Raimi said, bowing once more.
"Honor is incredibly important to the Feroxi," Frederick explained sagely, as they followed Raimi towards the castle. "By defeating her in single combat, Chrom has earned her respect."
"The same principles holds true for the khans. Naturally, the Feroxi are led by their strongest and most honorable warriors," Chrom added, as they stepped into the castle.
Robin peered around the audience chamber. To his surprise, the person waiting for them was a woman. Her blond hair was tied in a single ponytail, in a rather ragged fashion, and she wore a suit of crimson and silver armor. She was about the same height as Chrom, and looked to be about the same age as Frederick. Her tanned, muscular arms were exposed, save for a pair of bracers. She had a rather fierce look about her. Not quite the warrior leader Robin had been imagining, but she certainly appeared formidable nonetheless.
"Khan Flavia, I present to you, Prince Chrom of Ylisse," Raimi announced.
The khan eyed her guests for a moment, noting the signs of recent exertion. Then, to Chrom's surprise and Frederick's consternation, she tossed her head back and laughed. "Welcome, mighty prince! I apologize for any troubles you may have encountered at our borders," she finished with a broad grin. "Welcome to Ferox."
"Thank you. I'm sure we can put that misunderstanding behind us. But tell me, is it true that bandits have been ransacking your border villages?" Chrom asked.
"Plegians," Flavia spat. "We managed to hunt down on their leaders. It appears Plegia sent them to stir up some bad blood between your kingdom and ours."
Chrom groaned. "Damn those cowardly cretins." Frederick shot him a quick glare, as if to remind him he was in the presence of their neighborly kingdom's ruler. "Forgive me, your grace," Chrom added quickly, getting the message. "I forgot myself for a moment."
But the khan simply waved away the apology. "Don't sweat it, Prince. Here in Ferox, we appreciate plain speech. There's no need for flowery language; I'd sooner you speak sincerely," she finished, again with a broad smile.
"In that case, you should have a word with your border guards," Chrom said with a smirk. Frederick was shocked, but Flavia merely burst out laughing.
"I like you already." She turned to the border commander who still stood quietly by. "Raimi – please show Chrom's men to the guest quarters. I'd say we owe them a bit of hospitality at least for the trouble you put them through."
Several of the Shepherds noticeably relaxed at those words. "Thank you," Chrom responded. These negotiations certainly seemed to be going well. As the others made to leave, he quickly gestured for Frederick and Robin to stay. "By the way, this is my loyal retainer and friend, Frederick, a knight of Ylisse. And with him is Robin, our tactician."
Flavia nodded, acknowledging the other two, before continuing. "I think I know why you've come, Prince. We are aware of Plegia's aggressive troop movements, and the Grimleal have been seen once more. You've come to secure our aid should war befall Ylisse. Am I right?"
"Indeed," Chrom answered simply.
Flavia shook her head sadly. "Regrettably, I cannot provide any Feroxi troops to Ylisse right now." Her sincerity and the unusual decision took the three Shepherds aback.
"I'm afraid I don't understand," Frederick finally said. "You must see the threat of Plegia as clearly as we do, your grace."
"I do," Flavia admitted. "But I lack the authority." Noting Chrom's look of surprise, she went on quickly. "Ferox is ruled by two khans. Decisions critical to the wellbeing of our entire country fall to the reigning khan, the victor of our annual tournament. While my predecessor, the former east-khan, was the sovereign during the last Plegian war, I'm afraid that last year, the west-khan's challengers proved superior."
"So, you can't help us at all?" Robin asked.
"I can't help you right now," Flavia clarified. "And the west-khan is quite the oaf. I can't promise that he'd see things quite the same way you or I do. But fortunately, the next tournament is only three days from now. Your timing is quite fortunate."
"So, if you win, you'll help us?" Chrom asked. "Is there any way we can help?"
Flavia smiled shrewdly. "I thought you'd never ask. As a matter of fact, the tournament is fought by handpicked champions. And outsiders have frequently been chosen. Although, the foreigners have never included foreign royalty, to my knowledge," she finished, laughing once more.
Chrom's eyes widened as he understood her request. "You want me to champion you in this tournament," he stated.
Flavia shrugged. "You defeated Raimi, did you not? You are certainly capable. And besides, with the alliance I am offering you on the line, well, let's just say champions always fight harder when they have something to fight for."
Frederick made to protest but Chrom waved him back to silence. "You are right, Khan Flavia. My people need your help, and so I will indeed do whatever it takes."
Flavia clapped Chrom on the shoulders enthusiastically, having received the answer she wanted. "Then it's settled! But be warned – the west-khan's champion last year was his right-hand man, an incredibly gifted swordsman. This year, he's chosen another champion, one reputedly even stronger."
"It matters not," Chrom answered, determination in his voice. "He shall be defeated by Ylisse's necessity."
Khan Flavia proved generous, extending whatever courtesies she could to the Shepherds. But the Feroxi way of life was rather different – a warm fire, cool water in which to bathe, and hard cots in which to sleep were pretty much all they had to offer. Feroxi cuisine seemed to consist almost entirely of cabbage and smoked or salted meat – crops didn't seem to grow too well in their rocky soil.
On the second day, Robin did notice an empty guest room, furnished with thick fur blankets, a soft bed, decorated wooden chairs, and a heated bath. He asked Raimi about it curiously, who took no offense at the question.
"The room is reserved for guests of particular importance, but who we feel don't truly belong," she explained. "Though foreigners see it as luxury, the Feroxi see it as nothing more than weakness. Khan Flavia has afforded the Shepherds significant respect by asking us to house you in the rooms designed to accommodate our own people. The prince's room is in fact the room that is usually offered to the west-khan himself when he visits to challenge the east-khan. But of course, this year, the challenge will be in the west-khan's arena."
Robin had seen Chrom's room, but it had seemed precisely the same as the other rooms. He shrugged and thanked Raimi for the kind explanation. Feroxi customs were unusual, but after camping in the wilds for every night he could remember, save the one night in Ylisstol, even the hard cots were a welcome reprieve.
On the morning of the third day, Chrom instructed Lissa and Frederick to go rouse the rest of the Shepherds. Flavia had told him the night before they were leaving at daybreak, so they could reach the west-khan's arena before noon. Thankfully, the two arenas and castles were relatively close.
Most of the Shepherds roused easily. Vaike required a bit of shouting to awaken, but Sully had been wide awake already. To Lissa's surprise though, Robin didn't answer his door when she knocked. Robin had definitely become accustomed to waking early after training with Frederick in the mornings. She knocked again, before finally opening the door.
She was shocked to see Robin sitting at a hard wooden desk instead of lying on his cot. His chin rested on a large, dusty tome. "You must be really wiped out," she commented quietly. Robin didn't stir. On one hand, she felt bad for the tactician – he was really giving his all to the Shepherds. On the other hand, he really did need to relax a little bit. She grinned as she slowly reached out and suddenly pinched his nose shut.
"Argh!" Robin cried, coming awake instantly. He seemed to jump slightly in his chair, too, and the uneven stool he had been perched upon toppled over, unceremoniously dumping him on the hard wooden floor. "Risen! Wolves!" he cried, before he realized it was only Lissa standing over him, laughing wildly. "Lissa?"
"S-Sorry," she stammer, between tears of laughter. "I tried to resist! But you're so uptight ever since Chrom made you our tactician… oh no!" she said, realizing that Robin had accidentally knocked over a small pot of ink, which was oozing onto the tome.
"What?" Robin asked, climbing to his feet. When he saw the tome he was horror-struck. He rushed forward, pulling it away from a pool of ink. "Oh man, Flavia's going to kill me!" he moaned, as he wiped off what he could.
Lissa frowned as she saw the title of the book – "A History of Feroxi Warfare," she read aloud.
"Yea, I was hoping to get a grasp of their battlefield tactics for when they're fighting by our side," Robin explained. He turned to her angrily. "Why would you wake me like that?"
"It… it was just a joke!" Lissa protested feebly. She did feel rather guilty.
"And you're supposed to be a princess," Robin groaned. "Is this how your parents raised you?" Lissa's face fell at that remark, and Robin noticed he must have unintentionally struck a nerve. "Um… sorry. Sorry, Lissa, I didn't mean to…" he stuttered.
"I never really knew my parents," Lissa admitted. Then she smiled. "Don't worry though, I know you didn't mean anything by it. Sorry about the book though," she said, staring at the dusty and wet tome.
"I think it'll be alright," Robin said thoughtfully. "I don't think anyone's ever read this book until Flavia lent it to me, anyhow. Or any other book in Flavia's library, for that matter."
The Shepherds and Khan Flavia's entourage arrived at the arena a few short hours later. A great feast had been prepared, although the reigning khan was absent. "Tradition," Flavia explained. "We face his champion in the arena first. After the fight, the khans and the surviving champions will meet." Unlike the rather limited Feroxi cooking that had been offered before, the west-khan must have gone to great lengths to impress his guests. Various imported vegetables and fruits were spread across the wide tables. The stews were made with many exotic spices, and in addition to the staples of the Feroxi diet, pork and mutton, there was also a surprising variety of game. Stahl was particularly excited, although Robin couldn't help but notice that Lissa and Frederick both sat as far from the hunk of roasted bear as possible. "I guess Frederick's not quite an adventurous eater," Robin said to himself, grinning.
He hadn't meant to be heard, but Sumia was sitting close enough to overhear. "You mean, Frederick the Great can't stand bear? After all his lectures about unpleasant experiences and building character?" she asked, laughing.
After the meal, the Shepherds filed into the arena stands, supporting their captain eagerly. Everyone seemed confident that Chrom would win easily, but Sumia still appeared rather nervous. At the entrance to the arena itself, Lissa, Frederick, and Robin had followed a bit closer, offering their silent support. But the day had another surprise in store for them.
The west-khan's champion stepped into the arena from the opposite gate. A slight figure with dark raven-blue hair, a finely tailored blue tunic, and a mysterious black mask.
"Chrom, look!" Lissa cried out, recognizing her savior from the night in the woods. "It's Marth!"
"I see him," Chrom said.
The cheering struck Robin as rather morbid. One of the two champions could easily die in the arena if the fight went on too long, Flavia had warned them. And yet there was no fear in the eyes of the Feroxi spectators, only excitement.
Down in the arena below, Chrom called out to his opponent. "Marth! One question, before we begin?" Marth didn't answer, and simply rested a hand upon the hilt of his sheathed blade. A scabbard and hilt that still looked awfully familiar to Robin. "Fine then," Chrom said, when it was clear he wasn't going to get an answer. "Our swords can speak for us!"
With that, Chrom leapt forward, drawing his own sword in a single fluid motion, and slashing downwards. Marth mirrored the movement perfectly, drawing his own blade and leaping forward as well. Chrom had expected to simply overpower the smaller warrior, but Marth matched his blow easily and the two reached a stalemate.
Only then did Chrom realize something – the sword Marth held was identical to his own. He backed away in shock. "That sword… where did you get that sword?" he demanded.
For the first time since Marth entered the arena, he answered. "My father!" Marth cried, as he thrust his blade forward. As Chrom shifted to parry the straightforward attack though, he realized he had seen the stance and technique before. Trusting his instincts, he adjusted his footing and halfway through the parry, he slid his blade to the side instead. Sure enough, Marth's thrust had been a feint; the devious warrior pivoted and slashed horizontally instead.
Still shaken by the sight of his opponent's weapon, Chrom had only narrowly parried the clever blow. He extracted himself from the fight behind his parry. He had so many more questions for this opponent, but Marth wasn't wasting any time. Marth advanced, thrusting forward and forcing Chrom further back, until Chrom found his back to the arena wall.
As his elbow grazed the wall, Chrom realized he was in trouble. In that moment he heard the cheering of his Shepherds, and a series of loud swearing that could only be Khan Flavia. "I can't let them down," Chrom muttered.
Finally, Chrom began to strike back. He launched himself into a series of advanced attacks and counterattacks, techniques that were taught to the elite swordsmen of Ylisse. Marth was familiar with Chrom's attack routines though, and met every slash, slice, and thrust with the appropriate parry. Another surprise, Chrom thought grimly. Marth was well-versed in Ylissean sword techniques. Thankfully, Chrom wasn't quite out of options yet.
As Marth executed a quick and clean double parry, slapping Chrom's blade aside, Chrom dove to the side as if to retreat. Marth followed hastily with another quick thrust, but Chrom wasn't trying to move away. He leapt forward, past Marth, beating his opponent's extended blade, before launching a backhanded slash at the opponent now behind him. It was one of his own techniques that he developed over the past few months.
To his surprise, Marth had predicted the unusual move and dropped to the sandy floor. Chrom's blade swung over the prone Marth, slamming into the wall instead. Unfortunately for Marth, the blade bit deep into the wall. The audience roared in applause as the wall crumbled, chunks of rock burying the fallen warrior as Chrom jumped aside.
The fight was clearly over, and Chrom hurriedly pushed the larger pieces of fallen rock aside, freeing Marth. "Here," Chrom said, helping Marth back to his feet. But before he could ask any of the hundred questions swirling through his mind, Khan Flavia pulled him away firmly, announcing her victory to the cheering audience.
Chrom turned in time to see Marth leaving from the opposite side of the arena. It seemed his answers would have to wait for another day.