Chapter 3: Colonel Miria
Excerpt from "A History of Toulouse"
A short time after the Rabona Orthodox Church's founding in 605 b.l.e., the town and its church were raided by bandits. In desperation the clergy turned to fortifying the town, nearly bankrupting the church. In 591 b.l.e., Rabona's first stone walls were finished, encompassing a city of just a few thousand. In 590 b.l.e, a town guard was founded to protect the Holy City. Within a few short years it was placed under the command of the church, its soldiers' loyalty bought with generous funding. The Rabona Town Guard was renamed the Holy Guards of Rabona in 549 b.l.e. With their protection secure, the church was finally able to plan the construction of the first cathedral in their sacred capitol, the triple-spire Teresian Cathedral. This cathedral was the church's crown jewel from its completion in 334 b.l.e. till...
"Ah, Lieutenant Renée ," the Rabonese soldier saluted her as she approached him in the bustling medieval street, "What brings me the honor of seeing one of Rabona's saviors?"
"I'm looking for Captain of the Guard Galacon, the guy who calls himself Galk," Renée added.
"Ah," the massively built, plate-armored guard exclaimed, only a little of his face visible underneath his open visor.
"If I remember right, the Captain of the Guard is near the western gatehouse overseeing the disposal of the blasphemers' bodies," the guard politely informed her.
"By the way," Renée added, "what's with the new building across from the cathedral?"
"You mean the Lord Mayor's mansion I assume," the guard stated, his mustache rising distractingly with each word. "That is the official residence of Lord Mayor Zaehringen and the Council of Lords. They approve all new demands for taxation from the church. I don't have a high opinion of them; they seem to only care for the rich. You'd best steer clear of them. They've been nothing but trouble for the Rabona Orthodox Church and its Holy Council."
"Holy Council?"
"I'm surprised you haven't heard of it dear claymore savior; the Holy Council is composed of the Bishop of Rabona, four senior priests, and the head of Rabona's nuns. That body of six holy people essentially controls everything here in Rabona, well, at least until recently," the guard added ruefully.
"Thanks for your time," Renée waved at the soldier, who said something indiscernible as she merged with the crowd.
The streets were rarely straight, making the city maddeningly hard to navigate, but Renée pressed on, drawing occasional applause from onlookers. She noticed shopkeepers opening up for the day, their children cleaning the shops' steps with crude brooms as crowds gathered outside. To her right a bakery's windows opened, a pleasant smell passing by her nose shortly thereafter. Renée sighed, but kept walking until she came in view of Rabona's massive western gatehouse.
The western gatehouse was made of thick granite stone and red brick, giving it a colorful, beautifully solid appearance. As she stood observing the tower, she was passed by innumerable peasants and farmers bringing in produce on horse carts. It was then that she noticed the large arched entrance through which they'd entered, and she headed towards it.
The gatehouse towered some eight stories above as she walked closer, its arched gate stretching two stories up, and a crush of people walking through it. Renée could see the white flag of Rabona atop the four towers above the gatehouse's grand keep. The flag featured the Rabonese dollar symbol silhouetted by two angelic wings all in gold upon a brilliant white background.
Renée followed the crowd through the gate to find an immense interior with some minor evidence of the recent fighting. Overhead was a solid stone ceiling interspersed with holes where archers could pour attacks upon any invaders. Continuing on, she dodged a careless farm-girl on horseback that rode past, and then cursed the kid out, "What the hell are you thinking girl?"
The girl, mounted on a small gray horse, halted for a moment and looked back. The farm girl's face looked stricken as she saw who she'd almost carelessly run over. Suddenly she bolted, whipping the horse forward, her boyish brown tunic fitting with her boorish behavior.
"Ah hell," Renée grumbled, watching the girl gallop off, "it's not worth my time."
At last she made it into the sunlight, where she found an immense stone bridge, its great length spanning a fast-moving large river. In the distance, standing upon it, she could just make out two warriors-Miata's red-haired adoptive mother Clarice, and the former mayor of Pieta, Nadia.
As Renée got closer, she noticed a large, muscular man in chain-mail armor, a scar on the right cheek of his beautiful face. She recognized him as Captain of the Guard, Francois "Galk" Galacon. He was listening politely to Nadia and Clarice as they talked.
"Natalie is with Miata, Nadia. After killing the entire siege ram's crew last night, they went to bed crying," Clarice sighed.
Galk, Nadia and Clarice didn't say anything for a moment while Renée watched in silence from the distance, and instead looked around at the outpouring of civilians to their fields across the bridge.
"You know Lieutenant Nadia," Galk interjected into the awkward silence, "I hadn't realized warriors suffered from consciences like that. Is there some problem in killing humans?"
Nadia looked astonished and Clarice uncomfortable at hearing this.
"Look Captain Galacon, Galk, whatever it is you prefer, when we were inducted into the Organization's ranks of warriors, there were special rules," Nadia lectured with a waving hand. "We were explicitly prohibited from killing humans, since supposedly we were fighting to protect humans. It turns out it was all a ruse, so Miria led those warriors that would believe her against the Organization. Once that was over though, we started to get attacked by bandits who believed we wouldn't fight back."
"So you were forced to kill humans then?" Galk asked, eyeing Renée distantly as Nadia and Clarice remained ignorant of her nearby presence. She couldn't just stay out of such an important conversation, so she didn't.
"Yes, but not because we wanted to," Renée interrupted.
"Oh Renée ," Clarice called out, looking over her shoulder as Renée walked up to them.
"Hello there Clarice, Nadia, Captain Galk," she smiled, and then pointed to the distant piles of bodies being burned. "What's with the burning?"
"We tried to find a place to bury the enemies' dead, but none of the farmers want heathens buried on their lands. Instead we have to burn their bodies, or else we'll get a plague of disease going through the city. I know it's a little barbaric, but we must respect our citizens' wishes," Galk explained, throwing up his hands.
"It does seem fairly barbaric," Nadia agreed, nodding her head.
Renée narrowed her eyes in cold fury at Nadia's statement, hissing, "So Nadia, if that's so barbaric, what wasn't barbaric about you displaying the head of an awakened on the wall over your mayoral desk in Pieta?"
Nadia rounded on her, indignant, "Look, that bastard nearly killed three of my town's warriors. He said he was going to cut off our heads and display them like trophies on his home's wall. So I gave him his just desserts after Nina decapitated him."
Galk walked away as they continued loudly shouting, some frightened townspeople and farmers looked on, several edging away.
"Oh, so in other words, you stooped to his level," Renée yelled at Nadia.
Nadia, whose voice was higher, screamed back, "Who made you judge? If I wanted to mount the barbarian's head on my wall, it's none of your concern. It's not like he was human anymore!"
Renée rebutted as the bridge's foot traffic came to a complete standstill near them, several women in particular easing close in curiosity, "So what are are we then?"
"Girls, girls," a familiar, kind nun interjected, her eyes scarred marring her otherwise perfect tall figure. It was a warrior who was wearing a blue nun's uniform with a white under-uniform, giving her a clean, attractive appearance. "You're creating a scene, and I doubt you want to see what Miria's mood will be like if you wake her up with your fighting."
"Oh Sister Galatea," Clarice chimed into the silence, "I was wondering when we'd see you."
"I was busy attending a Holy Council meeting. It's sort of the executive council for the church," Galatea explained to the upraised eyebrows of everyone present, "and I'm on it as the highest-ranking nun in the Church. I was wondering where Miria was, but instead I find her two top lieutenants one step short of fighting," Galatea noted with a mischievous smile.
Nadia abruptly walked off towards Rabona, the crowd of people giving her a respectful berth.
"Where are you going Nadia?"
Galatea asked while turning her head to talk as Nadia passed by.
"I'm going to take a bath. Renée can get you to where Miria is," Nadia said loudly before walking off, disappearing into the crowd.
"Well then, Captain of the Guard Galacon, the Holy Council has orders for you," Galatea told Galk while handing over a sealed dispatch.
"Very well," he acknowledged to Galatea while Renée watched.
Galk opened the orders and briefly looked them over, "It's not a problem Sister Galatea. I'll brief them myself later today then."
"Thank you," Galatea graciously replied before waving goodbye, heading back to the city.
"There's something odd about Sister Galatea," Galk laughed, directing his eyes towards Renée and Clarice as Galatea left. The curious people around them began moving again as the controversy subsided.
Renée asked Galk dryly, "Like the fact that she's not really blind?"
"What, that's preposterous, just look at her eyes," Galk scoffed. "They're scarred pure white!"
Renée laughed, "Do you know blind humans who run around at high speeds with big swords?"
"Well, no, I've never seen such a thing Renée ," he admitted.
"Exactly," Renée agreed. "There's no blind woman in the world that could fight while jumping between rooftops; it would be pure suicide to even try it. Galatea may look blind, but once you notice how she moves, it's obvious she isn't quite as blind as she pretends to be. I'd guess she still has some minor amount of sight left to her."
Miria blinked her eyes open to see the noon sun beating down a city which was still smoldering in parts. A glance up found Renée , whose navy-blue uniform was cut and scratched all over.
"Captain Miria, sorry to wake you," Renée apologized, kneeling over her, "but the captains insisted I wake you."
Renée motioned to the four men behind her, now dressed in more comfortable mail shirts under golden-colored tunics. Miria recognized them easily, starting with Galk furthest to the left, while next to Galk was a shorter man the same height as Renée .
Cid had a very attractive face, albeit almost feminine, and with his blond, wavy bangs covering his forehead, a small, straight nose and a rounded chin. Just barely visible was an elegant ponytail of blond hair falling down his back.
"Hi Miria," he smiled at her.
"Hi Cid," Miria smiled back. "It's been awhile hasn't it?"
"Long enough for us to really need you around here," he complimented her. "We'll talk later."
Miria got up with the help of the black-haired Captain Murat, whose blue eyes and curly black hairs were more attractive than his overly-masculine face. Murat looked barely taller than Renée and herself.
The last captain, van Willems, was barely edged out by Galk in height. Van Willems had a distinct, large hawk nose and short, black hair.
"Well then, let's not keep them waiting," Cid said.
Miria asked, "Keep who waiting?"
"The Holy Council of course," Cid answered earnestly.
Renée followed behind Miria as they walked through the city, which was seemingly stuffed full of people everywhere. The crowds parted as they walked to the front of the triple-towered Teresian Cathedral, which sat on a large city square. Opposite it, Miria noted, was a new, much shorter building in the same Gothic style as the cathedral.
Two guards in full armor opened the cathedral's doors to reveal a vaulted interior. Columns the width of small houses supported a large wall of arched stained-glass windows. At the far end, hundreds of feet away, were a group of six people sitting in a semicircle of stone chairs around an altar. Miria approached in silence with Renée , surrounded by guards in ceremonial armor and white cloaks concealing their weapons.
They waited a moment, and Miria noticed a woman with pure white eyes dressed in a nun's clothes. The nun had straight, long, blond hair, her face was marred by a series of burn scars around her eyes, but she had an otherwise flawless facial features. Seated to the nun's right was a short-faced man of some age, his lack of hair barely disguised by his pointed white and red hat. His robes were a magnificent red and white, in contrast to the four other white-robed male priests. All except the nun appeared to be at least of middle age.
The priest in the formal robes spoke first, "Captain Miria, you are to be praised for your selfless work in defending the holy city of Rabona."
He rose as the four captains of Rabona's military bowed low on one knee, faces to the floor.
The nun whispered as loudly as she dared, "Miria, you are expected to bow to Bishop Vincent."
"Bishop Vincent is it now," Miria stated, suddenly recognizing the Bishop before her.
"Miria," the nun hissed.
"Let me explain something to you Sister Galatea," Miria shot back at the nun, "and Bishop Vincent. You asked for the help of warriors, and I have brought them here under MY COMMAND," she loudly declared. "I am not going to bow to anyone when bargaining from such a position. If it were not for us, you should not have just seen the siege lifted."
Bishop Vincent raised an arm to cool passions, "Now, now, my dear Captain Miria. The Rabona Orthodox Church is very grateful for your help, and we are more than willing to offer you and your warriors' places as enlisted soldiers in the Rabona Holy Guards."
Miria crossed her arms before answering, "It is indeed an enticing offer Bishop Vincent, but your letter promised my warriors positions as officers in the Holy Guards."
"My letter?"
Bishop Vincent looked bewildered, and turned to face the rest of the priests.
"So then, you weren't really the one who sent that letter, were you?"
Bishop Vincent looked embarrassed as he began fierce whispering to Sister Galatea.
"Well, that's too bad really, I was planning on helping the city, but I suppose if you really didn't need me, my comrades and I will just leave..."
Miria turned around, with Renée looking questioning but following her lead. They were nearly to the door when she heard footfall behind her.
"Wait Miria, we can come to an understanding!"
Miria turned to see Galatea stop just short of them, looking frantic.
"What is your offer Sister Galatea?"
"Just name your terms," Galatea panted.
"We can agree on those in detail later," Miria answered.
"By the way Renée , I must insist you not enter the Teresian Cathedral with blood splattered across your outfit," Sister Galatea pointed out.
Renée looked down abruptly to notice her entire skirt and both leg stockings were absolutely covered in dried blood.
"Ah hell," Renée cussed to Galatea's visible annoyance. "Wait a minute, how did you know I had blood on my outfit?"
Galatea stiffened, "I can smell it."
Renée murmured as she left with Miria, "Sure you can."
"Well, it is nicer sleeping here than against my sword on that cold stone wall," Natalie opined.
Miria was watching Natalie, who in turn was looking around a fairly simple storeroom, which had stone walls, two small windows and a bunch of hastily assembled cots in it. The room's fireplace was dusty and full of cobwebs, and there were still sacks of grain piled high throughout the room. Natalie wandered through the room until she found the sleeping cat, Cid.
"This is great Captain...I mean Colonel Miria," Natalie beamed. "I can't believe it, do we really get to be officers in the army and live here?"
"Yes, you and Cid both," she informed the beaming Natalie.
"Wait, when did me living here become part of the deal?"
Natalie wore an expression of momentary confusion as they both turned to face the blond man who had uttered the words.
"Captain Malaga, I meant the cat," Miria laughed while Natalie frowned in confusion.
Cid the man managed a nervous laugh and smiled.
"Oh, by the way Colonel Miria, I named the other cat Miria!"
Natalie grabbed an orange tabby cat and hoisted it in the air, even as it hissed at this. Natalie lowered the orange cat to the ground and it soon wandered off towards Cid the cat.
"I hope you know if you're staying in my room, those cats most certainly are not," Miria informed Natalie.
"Aww, why not?"
Cid began nudging Miria with an elbow and grinning.
"I'm allergic to cats Natalie."
"But...oh OK, but you should see your cat, Miria, I think she likes the black one!"
Cid dissolved into laughter at these words, and Miria started laughing involuntarily as well, both of them having seen what the cats were arduously up to behind Natalie. Natalie grew flustered as Cid and Miria began crying tears of laughter together.
"What's so funny?"
Miria barely managed to stop her laughing to point behind the flustered Natalie.
"Natalie, take a look at your cats," Miria gasped, barely stifling another laugh.
"Huh, what are you...oh my god, they're mating!"
Natalie rushed to get her lust-filled cats out of the room and safely out of the sight of everyone, her face beet red with embarrassment. With Natalie out, Miria resumed her tour of the great tower with Cid by her side.
"Well, I'm sorry we had to lodge you back in the old great keep Miria," Cid apologized.
Miria was forced along with Cid to dodge a pair of silver-eyed girls carrying large loads of towels, and then continued walking down the hall.
"It's not so bad, and I'm sure the girls don't mind, especially since the newly homeless need the other lodgings in town worse than we do," Miria reassured him. "Besides, we stayed here the last time when we were fighting the Organization. It gives me a lot of good memories."
Miria found her hand wandering onto Cid's right shoulder, but he brushed it off.
"No, I'm not ready to forgive you yet," he snapped.
Miria sighed, "You're still mad at me, aren't you?"
Cid remained silent for a moment, but eventually broke his silence.
"That was quite bold of you, forcing the Holy Council to grant you the position of the commanding officer of the Holy Guards. I don't know why you did it, but I can tell you're planning something Miria," Cid said quietly.
"It's the only thing worth fighting for; the unification of the island," she admitted.
"Good luck with that," Cid sighed.
"Why, is their some problem with that goal?"
"If you're assuming your only real enemies are that warlord's soldiers and bandits, you'd be wrong," Cid cryptically stated.
Miria probed Cid for an answer, "Then who are these enemies?"
Cid snorted, "You'll discover that soon enough..."
The day after they'd moved into Rabona's old great tower, Miria managed to scrounge up a desk and some office supplies. She set herself up in a fifth-floor office and began her military career the next day. The room was lit by a single large arched window, and walled in dull gray stone. Miria quickly added some spare tapestries showing historical events from Rabona's past to spice up the room. Natalie joined in with great enthusiasm, searching the seven story great tower for other things to add.
Natalie returned first with some old black drapes, which after some cleaning they'd put up to grand effect around the window. To help in her efforts, she soon enlisted 13-year-old Miata, whose freakishly great strength aided efforts immensely. Miria had left the office mostly empty, a chair and an old grand oak desk placed facing away from the window. When she'd returned, there were four large black sofas spaced out along the walls to the left and right of the room's only door.
Before she'd even had a chance to clean them, Miata and Natalie returned each carrying what looked like two table legs.
Miata's growth since Miria had last seen her was obvious. Miata stood the same height as the curly-haired Natalie, three years her senior. Miata's face was very effeminate and thin, with a short chin and nose, large eyes, and a long forehead.
The two girls dropped the chairs to the floor.
"Phew," Natalie groaned. "Hey mo...I mean Colonel Miria, where do you want Virginia and Camilla to put the table?"
"Table? When did I ask you to bring a table?"
Natalie smiled, "Well, we figured every great commander has a grand strategy table to discuss...well, uh, military stuff."
"That's very kind of you girls, but..."
They were interrupted by a knock on the door.
"Oh, that's them!" Miata exclaimed.
Miata rushed to open the door wide, and Virginia came in struggling mightily to squeeze a massive table through the tall door. Natalie rushed to help as the thick table, bereft of support legs, narrowly scraped through. On the end a warrior a little taller than Natalie held on, clearly tired. The witch had her blond hair perfectly coiffed out above her neck, and slowly let her end of the table down to the wooden floor. The others followed, and soon they had the table resting on its side.
It took the better part of an hour for them to properly hammer in the legs and clean off the table. It stood just above Miria's waist, support by four immense support legs with lions decorating its feet. It was as long as it was wide, and swallowed up space by being half the room's width. The girls had left with Miria's thanks when Cid entered, looking rather impressed.
"Wow, you've really been combing this old tower over. I knew it had a lot of odd things, but I wasn't expecting you to find this much," Cid complimented.
"Cid, the captains' meeting isn't for awhile yet, is there some reason you're here?"
"I was just wondering if our new Colonel Miria needed anything," he obfuscated.
"Really? That's all? You didn't come to see me?"
"You are really insufferable sometimes Miria," Cid snapped back, turning his back on her.
"Is this about me leaving Rabona twenty months ago?"
"You left Rabona with your comrades to go out on a final Yoma hunt, and you said in your note that you'd be back in one month," Cid's said, his voice rising.
"Well I'm sorry Cid, but the others needed me, and there was no work here left for simple warriors like us," Miria apologized, putting a hand down upon the table.
"I put up with you leaving, coming back, and then leaving again with no notice for four months," he shouted, sounding bitter.
"Our relationship was nice while it lasted, but you knew that my adventures would never allow it to work," Miria said defensively.
Cid took out a black box barely larger than his hand.
"I never believed that," Cid said as Miria's eyes focused in on the box.
"Oh god, Cid, you didn't really?"
He flicked it open to reveal a golden ring with a massive red ruby atop it, the ring resting comfortably in the box's black satin.
"I had saved most of my salary for years, but I didn't know what for until I met you. I got this the day you left," he finished quietly, putting the ring's box upon the table. "Then you left me high and..."
Natalie abruptly came through the door clutching the black Cid the cat in one arm, the orange Miria the cat in the other.
"Hey, Colonel Miria, I was wondering, if Cid and Miria had kittens, would you..."
Natalie trailed off as Cid walked past her, opened the door, and then slammed it shut as he left.
"What's with him?"
The captains' meeting wasn't until the next day; in the meantime the girls had all set up cots in their rooms. The fields outside Rabona had been painstakingly cleared of the dead, and scouts, both human and claymore had left Rabona to find where King Charles' forces had gone to.
The next day came, with the captains' meeting set for the early afternoon. It was nearly mid-day when Virginia entered first, sword and uniform both freshly cleaned, her long ponytail nearly getting caught in the door. Curly-haired Nadia, wearing a repaired outfit, came in next. She was followed in by the captains of the Holy Guards. Galk came in first alongside Cid, who refused to look Miria in the eyes. They were followed by the jovial Murat and aristocratic van Willems. Helen, unsurprisingly, immediately followed right behind van Willems, with Tabitha and Yuma behind her. Nina led in last of the meeting's participants, the double pig-tailed Alexandra and hair-bun wearing Valencia.
"Tabitha," Miria asked, "we're ready to start the meeting, but where's Renée ?"
The door opened to reveal Renée , though her hair was very wet and surprisingly un-braided.
"Sorry, Camilla was trying to clean the blood from my hair," Renée explained.
Renée looked around for an open seat on a sofa, but there were none, so Renée joined Valencia in sitting on Miria's desk instead. Miria waited until she had everyone's attention, and then brought out the grand map of Rabona.
"I'm happy to see everyone in good health, captains and warriors both. Before I begin, I believe it would be best for Captain Galacon," Miria waved to Galk, "to explain our military situation as it stands now."
Galk stepped up, in full armor except for his helmet, and looked them in the eyes. Miria sat down in his now open sofa space next to Cid.
"As you all know, we lifted the siege of Rabona less than a week ago with the help of you warriors. During the siege and during their nighttime attack, we lost four months worth of food, 87 soldiers, and a significant number of shops, homes and civilians. King Charles lost roughly a thousand troops in his failed assault. He's pulled back his remaining 9000 troops to the west, but his forces still outnumber ours 9-to-1."
"9-to-1," Helen gasped, "good god, shouldn't you have more soldiers for a city this size?"
Galk bit his lip before replying, "Some of you warriors may not be aware, but only two years ago we had just 500 soldiers. Once Bishop Vincent took office a year ago, he enlarged the Holy Guards to its present size of 1000 soldiers in ten companies."
Nadia butted in, "That sounds reasonable, but isn't Rabona rather large?"
Galk turned his attention to Nadia, who'd asked the question in a manner only somewhat less brusque than Helen had questioned Galk.
"A year ago we heard of a robber baron styling himself a lord who was conquering small towns in the western lands of Lautrec," Galk answered. "Half a year ago he re-founded the port city of Gonal as his temporary capital, and his troop numbers surged spectacularly. It turns out his secret was to lure the armies of bandits to his side by promising them war booty and even women and children as slaves."
Miria queried, "How did you figure that out?"
"It was easy enough Colonel Miria," he acknowledged her question with a nod. "The bandits in the countryside practically disappeared in western Toulouse as Charles' forces grew," Galk explained. "Charles declared himself King of Toulouse a month ago, then surprised us by besieging the city with 10,000 men. But for whatever reason, he soon left with half of them for the west and left his son Philippe in command. Philippe, our spies tell us, is not a patient man, and we lucked out when you warriors arrived and he ordered the premature assault," Galk stated flatly.
Alexandra chimed in, "How far away are Charles' forces now?"
"The nearest are west of here, around 30 miles away, a good two days march," Renée butted in.
Miria stepped up as Renée and the others looked on, Galk taking her seat. "There's something very off about this whole situation," Miria stated.
"Like what Colonel Miria?" Tabitha asked, puzzled.
"Charles could and should have easily taken the city of Rabona a month ago," Miria noted. "He had 10,000 men on hand, and he had enough ladders to breach the walls in days. But instead he marched west with half of the men."
"Now that his forces have been beaten off, what happens?" Cid asked, eyes low.
"I'm going to be doing a full-scale reorganization of the Holy Guards. It's obvious to me that the Holy Guards are more guards than military soldiers. You have a total of four captains to command a 1000 men divided into 10 companies. That's going to change immediately." Miria emphasized her point by waving a piece of parchment.
"As my first order as Colonel of the Holy Guards, I have required that each company of 100 men is to be led by a captain."
Captain van Willems jumped to his feet, "I object to this blatant demotion Colonel Miria! You cannot expect any of the Captains to accept such a-."
"Your fellow captains have already assented to this. This is for the good of the force, not your personal pride," Miria said, cutting van Willems' arguments down bluntly.
"But I'm glad you spoke up Captain Willems, since my second order concerns you," she continued, her voice earnest.
Miria picked up a second piece of parchment upon the table and shook it with a hand.
"In order to create a well-functioning, rational and meritocratic army, I am banning the buying of military officer positions from now on. Captain van Willems will still be able to carry on being an officer, even if he bought his commissioned officer post of captain."
"You expect to get away with this?"
Captain van Willems yelled, then jumped from his seat, swinging his fist at her. Miria didn't even bother dodging, but instead stopped the fist with an open palm. She then kneed the taller Willems straight in the armored gut, dropping him to the floor instantly. Everyone in the room jumped to their feet just as she'd knocked van Willems out, his body limp on the ground.
"Natalie," Miria called, and abruptly Natalie rushed through the door.
Natalie saluted her smartly before looking down in surprise at unconscious van Willems in shocked curiosity.
"You called moth...Colonel?"
"Take him out of the tower. He's been dismissed from the service of the Holy Guards," Miria commanded.
It took awhile for the excitement to die down after Natalie left carrying the unconscious Willems out, but at last everyone retook their old seats. Miria waited and then looked at the third piece of parchment on the office's grand oak table.
"My third order concerns the organization and ranks of the army. All companies are to have a 1st and 2nd Lieutenant, each commanding a platoon of 50 men. All warriors will start with the officers' rank of 2nd Lieutenant or higher when you are enlisted into the Holy Guards," Miria noted. "As it is too early to be creating regiments yet, due to our force's size, battalions of five companies each will be my first creation. The 1st Battalion of the Rabona Holy Guards will be commanded by Commander Galacon, and the 2nd Battalion will be commanded by Commander Renée ."
Miria was sitting in her office, gazing over figures and maps while wearing her usual navy-blue outfit, gold-gilded gauntlets, beautiful gold-gilded pauldrons, and a pair of steel shoes. Outside, through a window on the right side of her desk, Miria could see numerous small boats and modest ships unloading their goods along a small wharf in the canal's harbor. Miria remembered that it was that wharf that the warriors had landed in Rabona during the night of the siege.
She was considering how to acquire some more iron for the army's sword smiths when the door to the office opened with a squeak. Miria ignored it for a moment and began jotting down some orders, as the yoki was quite familiar.
"Colonel Miria?"
Miria looked up to see Renée standing at attention at the edge of her desk.
"What is it Commander Renée ? This had better not be about Commander Nadia's fighting strength again," Miria threatened in a silky, menacing voice.
Renée was wearing partial plate armor that covered her torso and upper arms, as well as her shoulders. Sitting atop Renée 's body were a set of gold-gilded pauldrons very similar to what they had worn as Organization warriors. Renée held an open-faced steel helmet in one arm, and was covered underneath the armor by her original leather outfit. Her hair was even redone; pressed back tight instead of corn-rows, a few braids of hair falling to the side of Renée 's eyes. Beneath the commander's ears her hair was braided as it fell past the shoulders.
"It's not Nadia's combat abilities I promise," Renée answered edgily. Her face contained a hint of both seriousness and something approaching glee. Abruptly Miria noticed Renée was accompanied by Nina, who was similarly clad and looking rather impatient.
"Well then, out with it Commander," she told Renée .
Renée nodded her beautiful braided head, "I've detected a group of 20 yoki far to the east; they almost certainly are all Yoma.
"So you and Captain Nina want my permission for personal hunts of these said Yoma do you?"
Both warriors nodded, looking unusually happy at the prospect of killing Yoma.
"Yes," Nina answered bluntly while brushing a single strand of bangs out of her eyes.
"Well you're not. Captain Tabitha, I know you're outside the door, so please come in."
Nina looked on the edge of revolt as Tabitha entered the room trailing a gangly-looking Miata, who had put on enough height to equal Tabitha. Both were wearing their outfits and a pair of large plain steel pauldrons. They looked rather meek and pedestrian next to Renée , whose chain-mail tunic and gold-gilded shoulder plates gave her a formidable presence.
Tabitha saluted, "Your orders Colonel Miria?"
Miria' follower mewed, looking happy while Miata remained expressionless next to her.
"Captain Tabitha," Miria addressed her, "Take the Elite Guard, track down the Yoma, annihilate them. I also want some reconnaissance of the eastern lands. Find out how bad the bandit and warlord conflicts are there, and keep a lookout for ships on the coast. Supposedly the whole island is being hit by pirates. I suspect however that something else is going on," Miria explained.
"I'll depart immediately as soon as all eight of the others are gathered," Tabitha answered and walked out in a stunned silence as Miata followed.
The door slammed shut, and then Nina's face contorted with red rage, "What the hell is this? At the very least a senior officer like Commander Renée ought to go. I don't know what the hell kind of farce this-"
Miria cut off Nina by whipping around the desk at incredible speed, then stopped practically nose-to-nose with Nina. Nina abruptly jumped backwards and hit her head on the tough stone wall.
"Ow," Nina whimpered.
"I'll explain something very clearly Captain Nina; I am in command, not you. When you signed up to serve, you pledged to uphold your orders and respect the chain of command. I have it in my power to expel you from the service, and you can help Natalie with cooking and housekeeping if you like," Miria threatened, "If not, then this bloodthirsty 'swing first, think later' attitude had better stop."
Nina merely mumbled, "Yes ma'am."
"I hate to horsewhip you Nina, but I can't afford you running off to kill Yoma. Commander Renée reports that your pikemen company is by far the best she has. I would hate to see such a promising young officer ruin her reputation by abandoning her duties. You will get your chance at action soon enough," Miria reassured the cowed Captain Nina.
Nina managed to stammer, "Colonel, why are we warriors are being assigned as officers?"
Nina had a little more guts than Miria remembered, even if Nina wasn't looking her in the eye.
"Colonel Miria is raising the war potential of the Holy Guards," Renée interjected. "If the men have officers who don't run from the enemy, they likely won't either. We need that to take on King Charles' army, since they outnumber our fighting troops 9 to 1. In about a month, it'll be 9 to 2, and if they have any sense, they'll strike soon."
"Thank you Commander," Miria praised Renée . "Captain Nina, you're dismissed."
Nina nodded before walking out, much chastened, her rage long gone. The door to Miria's immense war office clicked shut as she closed the door.
"Permission to be at ease ma'am," Renée requested.
"Permission granted Renée . I suppose you're going to ask about Tabitha's new unit, aren't you?"
"Well yes," Renée admitted, "Isn't it a bit much to call them the Elite Guard? Nina is nearly on par with Tabitha as a warrior, and the rest besides Miata are all below-average fighters."
"Well, first off, I wasn't about to put my most promising commanders in an all-warrior unit. Secondly Renée ," Miria emphasized, "I need Miata's power put to use somewhere. Clarice and Miata are in the unit as Tabitha's 1st and 2nd Lieutenants. The Elite Guard, or more precisely Miata and those that help her, will act as our shock troops. The ten of them together will be worth a thousand human fighters," Miria explained patiently while sitting back down behind her immense desk.
"Why not give Miata a command?"
"Miata's thirteen; yes, thirteen Renée ," Miria countered to Renée 's look of disbelief.
"There's no way," Renée snorted. "She doesn't look a day over-"
"I don't care how old she looks. The important thing is that Miata is still too young to be commanding men into battle. She's a great tactical fighter, but she's not a leader. That reminds me, have your scouts picked up any sign of our other great warrior?"
Renée shook her head regretfully, "Not a sign. It looks like Claire's disappeared like you said. If she's out there, I haven't detected a trace of her since we returned to Rabona."
Abruptly the office's door swung open to reveal Yuma and Helen, both wearing chain-mail tunics and plain steel pauldrons over navy-blue leather outfits.
"Well then Commander," Miria addressed Renée , "you're dismissed."
Renée turned and left as Helen and Yuma parted ways to let her through.
"Reporting in," Helen grinned, "so what now big sister?"
Miria ignored Helen's militarily incorrect address and instead turned to Yuma, "Captain Yuma, Commander Renée says you find your current position not to your liking."
Yuma looked uncomfortable to say the least, but instead of speaking up Yuma merely bit her tongue and swallowed.
"With that in mind, I've decided to award you command of the 1st Archers Battalion. Congratulations Commander Yuma," Miria said, shaking the newly promoted warrior's hand. Yuma had a bewildered look on her face that slowly changed to a small smile.
"Wow," Helen exclaimed, "that's some hell of a nice promotion. You get a big pay raise and those nice gilded shoulder plates," she enviously remarked.
"Ah thanks," Yuma said, looking uncertainly at Miria and then at Helen.
"Here are your orders Commander," Miria said, handing Yuma a parchment with orders she knew said for Yuma to start the newly equipped archers on some badly needed archery practice.
"Ma'am," Yuma said, saluting as she left.
"What the hell's with them? They sound so funny and formal," Helen carelessly remarked.
"Captain," Miria warned.
"Captain? I dun get it, why's everyone formal and citing rank," Helen asked almost rhetorically.
"Because it's proper military etiquette, Captain Helen," Miria huffed.
"Why do I get the feeling you're pissed off for a different reason?"
"I had Natalie room with you, and now people are telling me you've encouraged her to gamble and you even curse around her," Miria snapped.
"Hey, it was Natalie who-"
"I don't want to hear it Helen," Miria hissed, "the fact of the matter is she's my daughter, not yours. Then there are these constant reports of your juvenile behavior in your battlefield class with Captain Virginia, the half dozen reports I've seen of you sleeping with your male subordinates, and don't even get me started on what I've heard you are attempting to do to Lord van Willems' marriage. Heaven only knows what Deneve would say if she could see you now."
Helen could no longer meet her eyes this time, which meant she was getting through to her.
"Then there's this report from yesterday. Reportedly you and Captain Nina were engaged in a drinking game. During the game Commander Renée showed up at the bar, and you yelled at her to 'quit showing off her melons.'"
"I don't really remember that," Helen admitted.
"Well, Renée does. Then there's what came next," and for once Miria could not stifle a mirthful laugh at Helen's antics.
"What?"
Miria started to laugh uncontrollably a moment at Helen's expense before settling down and reading further, "Captain Helen then yelled at Commander Renée , quote, 'you think ya got a big pair of fruit on ya, eh Renée ? Well guess what bitch.' Thereafter the Captain exposed her breasts to the bar patrons and Commander Renée while yelling, 'How do you like dem apples?'"
Natalie was walking the cobblestone streets of Rabona, passing by several tantalizing bakeries and a women's tailor shop when she heard a chirp. She spun to the right only to find a pair of disappointing pigeons rather than a pet shop, so she moved on. Natalie was being rather unusual, walking around in broad daylight with a sword on her back while wearing human clothing. She was wearing a blue and white blouse with a matching dress to be precise.
It had been mother's doing, Natalie thought absentmindedly. Something about not attracting unwanted attention and looking like a proper young lady. No, no, no, what was she thinking? Natalie shook her head; over the past month she'd been referring to Miria as "mother" in her head. Worse, she'd verbally slipped up in front of Helen, who'd been mocking her as "frickin' useless" after she'd easily lost a practice swordfight to Clarice. The fact that Clarice was a much better fighter than years prior was a fact ignored by Helen.
She'd broken down in tears, sobbing while Clarice attempted to comfort her. In the end, it'd taken Miria coming by moments later to stop the tears. Given the fact that Miria had forbidden her from joining the army (even though Julia was the same age, which, on occasion, even Natalie forgot), Miria compensated by giving her errand tasks. Natalie had found doing these errands very rewarding at first, but over time her isolation from the other warriors made her worry.
At the moment she was wading through crowds, composed of everyone from rural peasants, wealthy merchants, middle class burghers, off-duty soldiers, and the occasional prostitute surreptitiously accepting propositions at the local barber shop. Eventually, after winding her way through a maddeningly unmarked set of streets, Natalie found what she'd been looking for. It was a sign for one of the largest blacksmith shops in town. It had a massive, gaudy sign out front that read, "Languedoc, le meilleur forgeron de la ville!" The rest of the building was some four stories tall, topped with dozens of smoking chimneys and red brick facade. It was separated from the other buildings nearby by several feet, almost all of which were blacksmith shops as well.
"The best blacksmith in the town? This guy must be even more confident in himself than Aunt Helen when she's picking up guys," Natalie commented.
"What a thing to say," a young man nearby interrupted.
Natalie glanced down from the gaudy sign to find a young apron-wearing boy not much older than herself. He had curly black hair, was quite a bit taller, and in Natalie's inexperienced opinion of the male species, rather cute. The boy was standing behind the blacksmith shop's weapons and armor displays. Behind the boy came a racket of hammering and the sounds of several bellows being used to heat up the forges.
"Bonjour," she yelled over the racket of hammering.
"Bonjour belle dame," the boy rather audaciously answered.
Natalie blushed, "I am not a beautiful LADY. How old do you think I am?"
"Ah, well," the boy sighed, "I'm not very good at telling the age of silver-eyed witches. How old are you anyways?"
Natalie sniffed in indignation, "Mother says you're not supposed to ask a girl her age. I'm here to see Monsieur Languedoc about a new order for another thousand broadswords."
"A thousand?"
Natalie was less shocked at the boy's reaction than the fact that she had just openly called Miria "mother" yet again despite trying not to. She began silently pondering just how much Miria really meant to her while the boy ran back into the shop yelling.
"Come on, I was supposed to be back already," Natalie complained in a whisper outside.
Abruptly a large number of imposing men came out, and Natalie grew a little nervous.
"Ha-ha, look at our beautiful patron boys," a particularly large man jovially laughed, smacking the nervous boy from before on the shoulders. "I'm Paul Languedoc, owner of this fine establishment. My nephew Pierre says you're here to commission us."
"The Holy Guards army wants to commission you to produce 1,000 swords to be ready in a month," Natalie explained.
"For how much?"
"Colonel Miria is willing to pay you 5 Francs a sword, so 5,000 Francs in all," she replied.
One man whistled at the amount, while several others coming forward began whispering in earnest, no doubt over whether it was enough money.
"While I do love the Colonel for helping me quadruple my business in this last month, I'm stretched thin as it is with all these orders. I've already got a backlog of 10,000 spears we're working on now, another 1,000 halberds, 2,000 cavalry swords and sheathes, and now this. I couldn't possibly expand my production more without charging the Colonel more," Messier Languedoc stated. "We have to sextuple the size of our building next month as it is, and we've got to pay for all that."
"Well if you can't do it then-"
"No, no, no," Messier Languedoc interrupted, "I can do it, but it'll cost your Colonel 10 Francs a sword."
It took Natalie some delicate haggling, but she finally sweet-talked the owner into making the swords for six Francs, which was a Franc lower than the last blacksmith she'd talked to. Having just had her hand shaken vigorously by ten large men and completed a tough negotiation, she was rather exhausted and looking forward to going back home.
Curly-haired, cute Pierre, however, was leaning against a post staring right at her.
"Is something the matter?"
"I was just wondering if I might ask you what your name was," Pierre said.
"It's Natalie."
Pierre sighed, looking right at her, all the while Natalie began feeling an odd, soaring, exuberant feeling bubbling up at being the center of his attention.
"Natalie, this might be offensive, but I was wondering, do claymores ever have relationships?"
"Of course they have relationships," Natalie snapped. "How else could Nadia, Alessandra or Julia be married then?"
"Oh," Pierre said, looking relieved. "Well then, can I ask who you're seeing?"
"I'm not seeing anyone," Natalie harrumphed, "why?"
"Would you like to go out with me?"
"Eh?"
Pierre seemed to realize how abrupt this proposition was, so he changed tack, "Of course, your mother could chaperone. We could take it easy, you know, go someplace nice, like say Mascherano's?"
"M-"
"Look," Pierre said, cutting her off, "I know it costs a fortune to eat there. But I've made loads of money since your mom took over the Holy Guards, so don't worry about the money. Come on, it'd be fun."
"Ah well," Natalie said, unknowingly edging backwards as Pierre approached, smiling, "it does sound nice..."
"Great! How about we go there together tomorrow night?"
Natalie had backed up so far her backside had hit the side of the Languedoc blacksmith. As a claymore, weak though she was, she'd never really feared a man in combat. But here against the charms of a cute, earnest and likable teenage boy, her sword seemed wholly useless.
"Do you usually ask most girls out like this?"
"I only ask out beautiful girls, and most of those are too conceited to be interested in guys their own age," Pierre admitted.
"But, but...but I'm not beautiful," Natalie sighed, looking down and away from Pierre.
"Of course you are," Pierre reassured, putting a hand up on the wall behind her while leaning over to look her in the eyes. "You've got the most exquisite hair of any girl I've ever seen."
This last point Pierre emphasized by sifting through her long, curly hair with his free hand while leaning yet closer. Natalie began to feel as if her knees were going to melt any moment, and her racing heartbeat wasn't helping her think clearly either. A feeling she had never quite had before began racing through her. Pierre leaned in towards her, his lips pursed, and her heartbeat skyrocketed again in anticipation.
"That's far enough!"
Pierre jumped back, startled, while Natalie felt her stress skyrocket as she looked to her left to see a rapidly approaching Nadia. Nadia was wearing the chain-mail tunic, steel pauldrons, and navy-blue leather of a warrior, and an expression that suggested outrage. Although Nadia was hard to miss both in terms of yoki signature and build, Natalie had somehow completely missed her approach. Nadia's chest was barely heaving, although the short, curly-haired and almost ridiculously voluptuous Nadia looked incredibly relieved, as if winning a race against disaster.
Nadia continued the harangue to Natalie's mortification, "Where did you think you were putting that hand, Monsieur lady killer?"
Nadia emphasized this point by walking up and pressing a pointed finger to his chest.
"Just wait a moment," Pierre guffawed, clearly shaken by the sudden arrival of a far older, far more confident and clearly annoyed claymore.
"I saw you reaching around behind her back you scamp," Nadia accused Pierre. "You were going to grab her ass, weren't you?"
"I was just going to put my hand around her waist," Pierre pleaded while a crowd of onlookers mortified Natalie with yet more embarrassment.
"Unlikely," Nadia replied. "Come on Natalie, let's go. You wouldn't want Miria wondering why you were taking so long, would you?"
Natalie hesitated for just a moment, so Nadia took matters into her own hands. She found herself with Nadia's arm behind her back, coaxing her forward. Natalie could only spare a short, hopeful glimpse back at Pierre before the crowded streets of Rabona blocked the view.
"You know Natalie, you shouldn't get swept off your feet the first time a guy ever takes an interest in you," Nadia lectured.
"I want to go back," Natalie complained. "Why can't I go see him again?"
"Because he tried to take advantage of you," Nadia smartly replied, "and that makes him not worthy of you."
Natalie sighed; Nadia's reasoning was hard to fault, even if she had found every moment of the quick encounter thrilling.
"But I kind of wanted him to take advantage of me," Natalie blushed.
"Well, I suppose that's only natural when you've never experienced the attentions of a boy before," Nadia relented a little, "but for goodness sake Natalie, you should know what kind of hell there'd be if your mother were to find out."
They were walking briskly now, most townspeople so used to claymores they barely spared more than a cursory glance at them. They turned a corner and suddenly, far in the distant north of town, Natalie could spot the outline of Rabona's old keep; home. It was a perfectly sunny day, although Nadia had kept it from being a truly thrilling day in Natalie's opinion. Plus there was the matter which Nadia had just mentioned concerning Miria.
"Miria's not my actual mom you know, so why should I care if she gets upset?"
"Oh, and I never really married Raul," Nadia replied.
"You didn't?" Natalie asked in shock, "But Sister Galatea told me it's a cardinal sin to-"
"I was being sarcastic Natalie," Nadia informed her, smirking. "You're only fooling yourself talking like that. Miria's been mothering you for the last two years."
"She's not my mom, she's-"
"Oh really, and who was it you had to get permission from to buy some lovebirds last week?"
"Well, I didn't have any money, so I had to get some from mom...I mean-"
"Ah hah, undone by your own emotions I see! You get allowance money from Miria and even call her "mom" on accident. You might as well accept that Miria's your mom, Natalie," Nadia lectured while they walked through the dense city crowds, "because everyone thinks you're her daughter anyways. Even Raki noticed you were Miria's favorite two years ago."
Natalie silently accepted this with mixed feelings, although there was some comfort to it all. They got to Rabona's Orthodox Avenue, which was covered in cobblestones and bordered by large six-story blockhouses, merchant houses, luxury manors, large banks, and high-priced inns. It was bustling like always, horse-drawn wagons and carriages on both sides of its plant-festooned dividing islands. These in truth were nothing more than brick-walled platforms with soil planted within, but they housed countless varieties of flowers and regularly spaced, well-trimmed trees.
It took a moment to walk north across the east-west Orthodox Avenue, but once across they found a scene: Renée being harassed by a half dozen drunken members of the Bishop's Guard.
"So wench," one drunken guardsman addressed Renée , who was seated at a table with the pigtailed Alexandra, "why don't you ditch the bitch and head back to my place?"
"Hey babe, how about a roll in the hay?"
The harassments kept coming, despite Renée not responding to any of it.
Natalie whispered to Nadia, "Uh, what's a roll in the hay?"
"Ask your mother later; I want you to cover your ears now," Nadia instructed.
Natalie covered her ears, and as they watched from several dozen yards away the yelling got louder. One of the guards attempted to grab Renée 's seated behind. Renée reacted by kicking her claymore, which was lying slanted against the table. It spun and smacked the man unconscious in a spectacularly silky move with the spinning flat of the blade. The others rushed to grab Renée , uttering what surely were curses. Even Nadia yelled out in alarm.
Six seconds later it was all over, with Renée standing nonchalantly over the unconscious bodies of six guardsmen.
Natalie let out a victory whoop, "Yeah Renée , you showed them. You really fucking beat the shit out of them!"
"Natalie," Nadia shouted, "where did you learn such language?"
Natalie realized she was in trouble when Renée looked over in astonishment as if she hadn't heard Natalie quite right.
"Uh, well, Aunt Helen said it was just a victory chant," Natalie whispered. "What was wrong about saying it? Was it the fuc-"
"Natalie! You should know better than just saying whatever Helen tells you," Renée said, looking very disappointed while stepping over one recently awakened but inert, groaning guardsman.
"I'm sorry, it's just that Helen said saying that would get me respect," Natalie apologized, trying her best to hold off tears.
"Well I guess we've got to make sure you know better than to say profanities," Renée sighed.
"But how do I get respect when all anyone respects me for is my cooking?"
Renée pursed her lips, looking around at the shocked onlookers giving Renée a respectful berth as she walked past the unconscious, drunk Bishop's Guardsmen.
"You want my opinion?"
"Well yes," Natalie admitted.
"The only way you'll ever truly gain respect is if you do something incredible," Renée advised.
"Oh come on Renée ," Nadia snapped, "how is Natalie going to be able to do something incredible in combat if no one is even willing to train her?"
"Then I will in my spare time, that is if you want to train with me," Renée offered.
"You're the best Renée ," Natalie said, hugging and then kissing her on both cheeks.
"Natalie," Renée interjected, annoyed at being kissed, "I won't train you if this keeps up."
Natalie stopped to appease Renée , who was not known to have an over-affectionate nature.
"Umm," she stammered, a thought occurring to her abruptly.
"Oh come on," Nadia urged, "out with it!"
"But what if mother refuses to allow me to train?"
"Then we'll just train in secret," Renée replied, not showing an ounce of concern.
"But-"
"The only way to make tough decisions is to follow your heart Natalie," Nadia interrupted. "That's the way I decided to marry Raul. Miria loves you, but someday you're going to have to make a decision on your own that she disagrees with. You can't remain Miria's little girl forever Natalie."
"So then," Renée continued, "are you still going to train with me if Miria says no or not?"
"Well..."
"Oh come on Natalie," Renée complained, "make up your mind!"
Natalie looked at Nadia, who sighed, then looked at the unconscious guardsmen Renée had so superbly knocked out in three moves: a roundhouse kick, an uppercut punch, and a split-leg kick.
"If I train with you can you teach me how to do that?"
Renée looked back at the unconscious guardsmen, "Well actually, that's kind of hard to teach. You've got to be mad as hell to do it."
"So that's how babies are made?"
Miria nodded in assent to Natalie, who had had no clue about sex or the nature of relationships, and more alarmingly, according to Nadia, evidently had very little armor against male seduction. Nadia and Renée had brought back a wide-eyed, apologetic Natalie back to her office, explaining what had happened earlier while Natalie had sat before her, apparently mortified with embarrassment. Miria had reprimanded Natalie for using profanities, but Natalie seemed to take that lesson well. However, in contrast, it had taken the better part of an hour for Miria to delicately explain just how men and women loved each other in private to an astounded, alarmingly interested Natalie.
"Then, if I wanted to, I could bring Pierre back to my room to have sex?"
Miria groaned, "Natalie, you're not going to do any such thing while I'm your mother!"
Natalie replied by using a revealingly naïve logic, "But you said it was fun mom! What's wrong with having sex with other people?"
"You can't just have sex with other people. You need to be sure they're the right one, and get married first," Miria answered while sitting behind her command desk.
"But you said you slept with Cid, and you two aren't even married! How come-"
"Alright, alright," Miria relented, realizing her utter hypocrisy, "so maybe you can experiment around, but not with too many people."
"But wouldn't you want to sleep around to find out who was the most fun in bed?"
"You won't do that unless you want people to think you're a slut," Miria sniffed, slightly annoyed at where the conversation was going.
"What's a slut?"
Miria paused to consider an example that would sufficiently deter Natalie.
"Someone like Helen," Miria explained to a gasping Natalie.
If there was one person Natalie was absolutely dead-set on not being compared with, it was Helen. Miria felt more assured of Natalie's future behavior with the outburst that followed, "Then I will never be a slut!"
"That's my girl," Miria praised Natalie, then remembered Natalie had a tendency to repeat things at awkward times, "and don't you EVER tell Helen I said that."
Natalie nodded agreement, then asked, "So, can I date Pierre now?"
"Not until you're eighteen," Miria said, shooting an eager Natalie down.
"Why the frickin' hell not?"
"YOU WILL NOT TALK TO ME THAT WAY YOUNG LADY!"
Miria had stood up and then used Yoma energy to enhance the volume of her voice and lower it to intimidating octaves. The effect was enough to utterly terrify Natalie into submission. Her daughter was now hiding behind the chair, too scared to even look over it at Miria.
"Natalie," Miria sighed.
Natalie wasn't budging. Miria decided to walk around to reassure the girl, although Natalie pathetically tried to crouch away. Miria sighed, gently grabbing the quietly crying Natalie, then cradled Natalie in her arms.
"I'm sorry I yelled so loudly dear," Miria apologized, "I guess this is what I get for having you share a bedroom with Helen."
Natalie whispered, still crying, "Mom, if I can't date Pierre, can I at least join the army and fight with you?"
"Natalie, please, I understand how much you want to fight, but it would be too painful for me to watch," Miria reasoned with her now quiet, unresisting daughter, "No mother wants to see her children on a battlefield, even a claymore like me."
"But can't I train with someone to get stronger so you don't have to worry about me at least?"
Miria relented, "Alright, but you know I won't have time to train you."
"That's okay; Renée offered to train me today as long as I didn't hug her," Natalie whispered.
Miria felt a silent amusement at this statement while leading Natalie to the office's open door.
"Oh, by the way Natalie, how would you feel about not rooming with Helen?"
Natalie's eyes immediately blinked open at these words, much to Miria's bemusement.
Natalie could not quite resist a question, "You mean I'll be rooming with Renée ?"
"Would having your own bedroom satisfy you?"
"Wha...how?"
Miria smiled at Natalie's astonished joy, so in contrast to the fearful melancholy of half a minute prior, "I bought the large house across the street next to Nadia's place."
"You mean the really nice, six-story one? Is it the house with all the balconies, the courtyard in the back, plus all that really nice furniture?"
Miria grinned, "Yes, that one. I just bought it this morning, and we move in tomorrow. I was going to give you the entire sixth floor to live on, how does that-"
Miria was interrupted by over-affectionate, grateful hugging by Natalie.
"Alright then, as long as you're good you can live with me," Miria told Natalie, who nodded in agreement with the terms.
"Thanks mom," Natalie whispered, a little fear still in Natalie's yoki, if not the exuberant skipping out into the hall that came afterwards.
Miria turned back to hours of grueling work until a knock came late at night, her command office lit only by a quartet of overhead candles.
"Come in," Miria said to whomever was knocking on her office's door.
Cid entered a moment later wearing a golden-colored military tunic and white cloak.
"Evening Colonel," Cid said rather stiffly.
"Good evening. What brings you up here this late?"
"I wanted to talk about us," Cid admitted.
He looked rather expectantly at her, so Miria made the first move.
"I know I screwed up Cid. I shouldn't have just taken off without telling you I planned to be gone so long. I'm sorry for what I put you through...for not believing there was something more between us," Miria apologized.
Cid sat quietly in the chair before her desk, "Actually Miria, I came because my uncle has asked me to consider an arranged marriage to the daughter of Lord Staufen."
"Well you're not," Miria objected.
"How can you object when you took off on me for two years without even letting me know?"
Miria rounded the desk and dropped into a protesting Cid's lap, wrapping her arms around him.
"I am not going to live the rest of my life in regret watching you wind up with another woman," Miria stated firmly, then emphasized by kissing Cid on the neck.
"Miria, please, if that was going to work I wouldn't be here," Cid protested as her seductive affections began.
She straddled his waist, roaming her hands all over him, and rubbed her chest against his as she covered his neck in kisses. Abruptly Miria noticed something warm hardening underneath her.
"Oh really, and why is it Monsieur happy isn't agreeing with you?"
"Miria please," Cid protested as she kissed him on the cheek.
"I thought you weren't supposed to be enjoying this Cid," Miria noted with a wry grin. "So why are your hands where they are?"
Cid had grabbed her around the low of her back, and his hands were already sinking lower.
"Ok, so maybe I've been wanting this for the last twenty months," Cid admitted. "You know, I have to admit when I first met you I didn't think you'd be like this in private."
Miria leaned in towards Cid's mouth, "You know what they say about books. You shouldn't judge a girl just from her appearance."
Miria and Cid locked lips and shared a short, passionate kiss. Miria switched into action, grabbed Cid and flattened him against her desk and then jumped on top of him.
"The only way you're leaving this room, Cid Malaga," Miria said while pressing her bosom against Cid's face, "is when you've had some sense screwed into you."
Cid for once grinned, no longer resisting, "Alright, I surrender, just please keep talking dirty or I might reconsider."