Enslaved

Chapter Seven

"This is a bad idea, Derf," Saito whispered.

"Come on partner, it's not difficult," the sword replied primly. "Just step inside and let me do the talking if you're a wuss."

"Can't we just use the ecus and get going?" Saito pleaded his case one last time. They were standing in a cold and damp corner of a dirty street, all things that screamed 'unsafe' into Saito's mind.

"Sure, until you get surrounded by twenty orcs on the way, or end up in a village inhabited by brigands," Derflinger made his point splendidly.

Saito swallowed another lump of nervousness, and then stepped inside the dingy looking pub in a side street of Tristania. The dirt on the floor and the tables was second only to the black grime that formed globs on the ceiling.

"Partner, keep on walking," Derflinger hissed to him. He had remained at the entrance after all, taking in the gruff faces and the scar-filled persons that seemed to be staring back. Saito took a few steps forward, before making his way with a bit more of speed towards the counter.

"Uh, in my times, there were more lances," Derflinger remarked offhandedly as Saito sat at the counter's stool. The barman —was it even a bar this place? It could have been one of those Yakuza frequented places, but not a bar— looked at him with a half-formed grin and a disgusting licking of the lips.

The same look a lion at the zoo gives off when the caretaker comes in with the choice meat.

"What's your poison?" he asked with his voice gruff and half-amused.

"Mead," Derflinger replied with a gruffer voice. "It better be something strong or don't bother at all."

The barman drummed on the counter. "Money first. They don't teach respect to brats these days?"

"Fill the glass. If it's rat piss I'm chucking your face at it," Derflinger retorted. Saito's skin flushed in embarrassment, before he paled as the guy next to him turned to stare at the scene.

He wasn't the only one looking.

"What if I throw you out after I take your purse, uh?"

"What if I gut you and your friends and tie your guts together, before hooking you up to a lamppost?" Derflinger replied.

Saito mentally made peace with god. He was dead. He knew it. He was going to die.

The pub owner didn't as much as flinch, slowly taking out from beneath the counter a bottle of mead and uncorking it. He filled a glass –surprisingly one of the clean ones— before pushing it in front of him. Both hands on the counter, the barman stared at him, in wait.

Saito grabbed the glass. If it was poison, he was going to have a choice word with Derflinger in hell.

"Ossu," Saito whispered to himself, before chugging down on it. The liquid burned as it went down his throat, the temperature in the room suddenly heating up as his cheeks burned. "Whoa," he murmured.

"That's the good stuff!" Derflinger exclaimed. "Wasn't it difficult? Get me something to eat while you're at it, and another one! I've got the money to spend...successful job and all."

That perked more ears. Saito tried his hardest not to sway from the stool, his hands fumbling for his pouch within his jacket. A golden ecu found its way out and onto the counter, much to the barman's surprise.

"They paid you in gold?" he asked, taking the coin and biting onto it. "Uh."

The next instant, the mood soured. "You have a coin that doesn't come from your last payment?"

Saito had money, thankfully. The pub owner pacified himself quickly after biting onto a gold coin from Louise's pocket money.

"Your last job was for an Earth Mage, right?" he asked offhandedly as he barked an order for stew towards the kitchen.

"How did ya know?" Derflinger asked.

"Bastards' favourite trick to avoid paying," with that, he pointed at the first bitten coin. Now, on the wooden counter, it appeared dented. "They use transmutation or whatever it is to coat Deriers with a thin sheet of gold. It makes the money useless. Let me guess, it was a risky high pay job and he had you do it," the pub owner snorted. "You aren't the first one getting tricked with that shit. They could just pay in Sous, but I suppose it would be too much to touch silver."

"Fuck him!" Derflinger bellowed. "Last time I trust a noble!"

"It's the problem of working alone," the pub owner nodded. "You don't look like much. Started adventuring recently?"

"Yes," Derflinger said. "I killed a few orcs here and there, for villagers and such. I thought I'd find my start for a retirement sum when this chap came along with an offer to take down a troll."

"You took down a troll?" the pub owner gave him a sceptical look. Saito blushed. He wasn't the one talking!

"The troll was sleeping, not that I told that to that fucking bastard," Derflinger replied nonchalantly. "Stabbed him through the head, it was way more nerve wracking finding out where he camped."

"That does require guts," the barman said. "If you're looking for more work, I've got rats in the cellar –really big rats."

The guy next to Saito began to laugh, especially at Saito's perplexed gaze. "It's a joke, brat," the man deadpanned. He was a muscled and tanned man, at least two meters tall and with a thick and throaty accent that bordered the German. Dark eyes and dark red hair marked his features...just like the claw-like scar on the right side of his face. "He doesn't believe you killed a troll. Where the hell would you look for a troll in Tristain anyway? They're creatures more of Albion or Germania... Does Gallia have trolls anyway?" he suddenly asked to the pale man next to him.

"I know Romalia recently acquired a few trained ones for their army," the guy next to the 'German' said. His accent screamed 'French', if anything for the way his 'Rs' rolled out of his tongue. "They armour the damn things. You know, those things just scream 'not a chance' as you watch them mow on the battlefield. When you see a troll, do the smart thing and run the other way unless you're a mage."

His skin was deathly pale, which seemed to give him a somewhat cherubic appearance. His hair was white, his eyes red. It took Saito a moment to realize the man was an albino.

"We can't all be lucky like you, Chartreuse," the tanned man snorted. "To the point however," he looked at Saito. "Where did you fight the troll?"

"It was near Baudelaire, in the la Vallière territory. You know, there are caves that connect to the Germanian border?" Derflinger retorted. "They always get Trolls and Orcs rummaging around. A minor fief lord of the La Vallière paid me to solve the problem...just look at the emblem if you don't trust me, you son of a Germanian whore."

Saito's eyes widened as the man's own narrowed. "What did you say, brat?"

"No, I mean—"

"That I saw your mom last night, and she screamed my name a thousand times! You can start calling me daddy whenever the hell you want, sucker!"

"Take it outside," the pub owner hissed fiercely. "No fighting in here."

"You offend my honour, brat," the Germanian snarled.

"Why, you offended mine," Derflinger clinked back. "You call me a liar; I call you a son of a whore."

"Frederich," Chartreuse said, "Let it go."

The albino looked towards Saito, his red eyes gazing at him intensely. "Do you have a horse?"

Saito nodded, even as Derflinger said crisply. "Of course I do, a nice chestnut one."

"You the son of nobility or something?" Frederich muttered angrily, swallowing another pint of beer.

"No, just a very lucky guy," Derflinger continued.

Chartreuse turned thoughtful for a moment, before saying. "Would you be interested in mercenary work?"

"Chartreuse! You can't seriously consider this pipsqueak!" Frederich snapped in surprise, pointing at Saito's height. "He's barely done drinking milk from his mother's teat!"

"Your mother's were plentiful enough, bastard!" Derflinger shot back heatedly.

"Why you!" Frederich snarled, backhanding Saito. Barely, the boy managed to pull himself backwards and, as he fell from the stool, he grabbed onto Derflinger's handle. He stopped mid-fall, using the strength from the Gandalfr's powers to push himself back upwards using only his legs.

"Want to bring it outside?" Derflinger hissed coldly.

"Why not?" Frederich stood from his stool, looking down at him. He carefully grabbed onto the giant axe next to him that Saito hadn't seen. "I promise they'll find pieces of you around the docks, eaten by the rats."

"I'll be there to console your mother," Derflinger replied. "Don't worry."

"You!" Frederich growled, stomping his feet as he walked outside –leaving dents on the floor as he went.

"Keep my stew warm!" Derflinger said towards the pub owner. Chartreuse exhaled, shaking his head slowly. Massaging his temples, the albino followed behind the two.

The narrow street wasn't actually the ideal fighting spot for both of them. Derflinger however was a sword.

"Listen partner," Derflinger whispered, "Lesson number one: advantage. He's an imbecile, you aren't. He has a giant axe in a narrow street. You have a sword –a wonderful and beautiful sword. So, stab the son of a bitch."

"Frederich," Chartreuse said, "Maybe you should reconsider..." he gestured at the street.

"I don't need to swing this to get him down a peg," Frederich replied, "I'll scare him for good."

"Whenever you're ready, bastard!" Derflinger exclaimed.

"Whenever you stop pissing your pants, pipsqueak!" Frederich shot back.

Saito clenched Derflinger with both hands, before carefully moving his left leg behind his right. Holding the handle with his left and right, he brought the sword up perpendicularly to his body.

"At least he knows his trade," Chartreuse muttered. The next moment, the albino's eyes widened.

In a flash of speed, Saito dived straight ahead. Frederich brought his axe's flat side to the fore, as the metal of both weapons met and sparked, releasing a loud 'clink' that echoed in the alleyway.

The next split second, the axe's lower side hooked with the blade.

"What is this strength?" Frederich growled, his arms trembling. "What the hell is this strength!?"

"Frederich?" Chartreuse said, "You can stop acting like he's really overpowering you."

"I'm not acting Chartreuse!" Frederich yelled back, "This damn pipsqueak is strong!"

"Be thankful," Derflinger remarked sternly as Saito's right hand stopped holding the handle, "That I do not have a spear," his right hand cocked into a fist, his left held on to the sword and held the axe still.

"This isn't even funny!" Frederich growled. The fist slammed into his guts, making the man blanch. "You hit like a girl!" he hissed out.

"Next hit is your balls," Derflinger remarked. "If you want children, better stop now. My stew is getting cold."

Frederich roared, before a thin stream of water lashed out at his face. Chartreuse looked at him sternly, and the Germanian stopped putting strength in his attack.

"Fine, you killed a troll," the Germanian conceded, letting his axe come down to his side.

"And your mother isn't a whore," Derflinger replied. "She just birthed a brute."

Frederich smiled at that. "That's a compliment from where I come from."

"Wonderful," Chartreuse muttered. "Can we get back inside? It's chilly out here."

"You running a fever again, Char?" Frederich said, eying him.

"Of course not," Chartreuse rolled his eyes. "I'm just tired to see you wave your axe every single day."

"So kid," Frederich slammed a powerful slap against the back of his shoulders, "How did you get that strength in that pipsqueak body of yours?"

"That's a secret," Derflinger replied. Stepping back inside, Saito sat down at his stool once more. The stew was nothing more and nothing less than meat boiled inside a vegetable soup of sorts. It was warm however, and there were chunks of dark bread thrown in the mix. A large spoon hastily thrown inside told him that he had to use his hands to pick out the bones if he wanted to... On the other hand, he could always just eat it as it was.

"The best part is the marrow," Frederich said offhandedly. "You suck on it and then chew it down. Exquisite!"

"I think I'm going to feel sick," Chartreuse murmured.

Saito awkwardly smiled, before digging in. He was hungry. Maybe that was the reason the food tasted good. It wasn't Japanese food, but...it tasted good. Better than the leather-like rations, which he had eaten the night before.

"Kid, are you listening?" Frederich said, snapping his fingers next to him to get his attention. Saito's eyes turned to him, wide in surprise. "You interested in mercenary work? We work for the Black Lord, up in Germania. We're here recruiting guys like you into the lances."

"Black...Lord?" Saito said, raising an eyebrow.

"It's the name of the company. We principally work for the Kings and the nobility and we're five hundred lances strong. That makes two thousand and something men by the way," Chartreuse continued. "We're always on the lookout for new recruits and you fit the bill. Nothing is tying you up at the moment, right?"

An image of Louise screaming against her pillow and crying desperately flashed by before he shook his head to chase it away.

"The pay is a good twenty ecus a month," Frederich continued, "It's double what any normal guy around these parts gets and in a year, you're twice as rich. It's enough to get you all the whores you want, but you get the pay only at the end of the battles, and only if our side won."

He smiled brightly. "Nothing stops you from doing as you see fit in the enemy land though. No need to pay for what's free to take, right?"

"You mean...pillaging?" Saito asked, his voice soft.

"Yep," Frederich nodded. "You hungry? Go grab a cow from that farmer. It's not like he can oppose you or something. He should be glad nobody's pinning after his daughter," he chuckled. "Right, suppose you know nothing...well, there are a few rules to follow and they vary from lance to lance but Chartreuse's the one who knows all that nit-picky stuff. I'm in the job for the money, the whores and bashing skulls."

"Don't think all mercenaries are...as crude as Frederich," Chartreuse said. "Of course, don't simply expect knights in shining armour. We fight for money, not for the girl in the tower."

"Give him a lesson on Germania's nobility! The kid's going to love that!" Frederich said, elbowing Chartreuse in the guts.

"Frederich, why don't you go elsewhere?" the French...no, Gallian mercenary said.

"But I want to see him freak out! Listen here, kid, because this is rich!"

Chartreuse exhaled, massaging his temples. "Germanian nobles aren't necessary mages. They can achieve noble status by paying for it, by buying out the title, or by buying enough lands to form a fiefdom."

Saito blinked. Frederich waited patiently.

Saito inclined his head to the side; Frederich grumbled and turned to his mead. "He already knew that, it's not fair," Frederich mumbled taking a deep gulp.

"It's...not very common elsewhere?" Saito asked, curious.

"Brimir said and here I quote his holy book, 'Thee magic shall be proof of thee nobility, now go forth my descendants and found the holy countries. You, my apprentice, shall bring forth one too, for you are to me like a son in all but blood.' One would expect a Tristanian to be a bit...surprised, at that. The countries are Tristania, Albion, Romalia and Gallia by the way…Germania is more of a collection of Kings and an emperor so…we're heathens?" Chartreuse chuckled lightly.

Saito still didn't see what the point was that they were trying to make.

"You went to church, didn't you?" Chartreuse tried once more. "You heard mass at least once, right? How the 'Barbaric' Germanians act?"

"From where I come from we have shrines..." Saito began, only for Frederich to slap his forehead in realization.

"Oh! Oh, I knew it!" he pointed at Saito's skin. "I didn't realize it because the light in here is so damn dim, but he's not Tristanian!"

Chartreuse squinted his eyes a bit. "You're right," he turned thoughtful. "Well, then it hardly matters. You have to know that there are mainly two factions in Germania...on a religious level. On a more practical level, each noble holds a blob of land and the more land they have, the more power and vassals they have. Top of the food chains are the 'Kings' and when it comes time to elect the new emperor...well, they generally do vote the son of the previous one into charge," the man continued. "Albrecht the third, the current ruler, is an example of the 'Practical' Brimir religion, Protestantism is it? He allows people to rise to nobility by buying the title and the land. Of course, don't be too vocal about whether it's right or not...especially not where the clergy can hear you."

"Why?"

Chartreuse sighed, "It's like talking to Frederich. Wonderful...think," his hands opened wide. "Brimir says only people with magic and who descend from his blood can be rulers because they're 'chosen' by god. Germania has a more practical approach. There isn't a clergymen in Germania who holds any amount of land. They can't even use it properly. Why isn't Germania branded heretical as a whole?"

Saito blinked, "I...don't know?"

"I dislike talking politics during lunch...or dinner, or whatever," Frederich rolled his eyes, taking over Chartreuse's reply. "Let's get back to what you really need to know. Mercenary life is a wonderful opportunity to visit new places, make many interesting discoveries and plough your way through battle and women. I'm offering you a dream job and a way out of serfdom that might even land you a title and some lands to live off by when you retire. The pay is of twenty golden ecus per month, all paid at the end of the next successful battle we are enlisted for. You want in, wonderful. You don't want in, no skin off our teeth."

He turned thoughtful. "You get paid extra if you come with a horse and can fight on it though. It's thirty ecus a month, which is basically an ecu a day, with most of the time doing nothing but drinking, eating and fucking girls."

"Ignore the last part," Chartreuse said. "Just because it convinced Frederich to join doesn't mean it's something everyone does."

"Sugarcoat it all you want," Frederich snorted, "But that's one thing that gets the young ones' blood pumping. No 'Wait till marriage' crap or stuff like that! Just grab a girl and go do her!" the man laughed, as Saito's face turned pale.

Was...were they...were they speaking about raping as if it was something normal?

"That depends on the lance," Chartreuse caught his face. "Some have stricter rules than others. We all answer to our leader for example, but he leaves the lances with their own autonomy. No two mercenaries are the same. Don't paint eight thousand men of the Black Lord...like you'd paint this imbecile here."

Frederich rolled his eyes.

"This Black Lord stuff...what if I don't want to be a mercenary after a while?"

Chartreuse shrugged. "Not a problem for us. You are paid when the war is over, and most of the time you're self-sufficient with the stuff you have or loot from the place. Losing a mercenary or two because they 'don't feel like going to battle' is normal. Of course, once you're out you don't get to come back. We have quite the registers –and let me tell you, the chief is a maniac when it comes to keeping things orderly."

The last spoonful of stew stood cold in Saito's bowl. Derflinger was quiet now, since this was his choice to make.

"We're meeting at the Charming Fairy inn tonight anyway," Chartreuse continued. "Take your time to think about it. On a plus side, nobody messes with a mercenary… So that Earth mage? He would have paid you real money if you had been in the Black Lord's service."

Saito nodded numbly. His thoughts of leaving for a safe place now squashed. He needed the money –frankly, he needed more money than the 'real' one Louise gave him. The one hundred gold ecus quickly discarded in the nearby dumpster and with his hands in his jacket, he began to walk along the street lost in thought.

"Is something on your mind, partner?" Derflinger asked.

"From where I come from...rape is a crime."

"It's a crime here too, partner," Derflinger replied. "Only, it depends on who's doing it and where. Mercenary can sometime be cruel, but it's the enemy's land after all."

"From where I come from, it's a crime no matter who you are or which side of the war you're on," Saito replied. "We have rules for battles."

"Partner, it's a matter of power," Derflinger said. "Nobles make the laws. The laws protect nobles. You can't steal because the orchard belongs to a noble, not because it's wrong to steal. You cannot burn down a house in the city not because it's wrong, but because it inconveniences the nobles. Noblesse Oblige is also known as 'The Right to Have'. The noble has the right to have law, justice, order and aid. The commoners do only as long as it applies to granting to nobility what they need. When nobility disappears, it's the law of the strongest that comes up next."

"That's wrong," Saito said dryly.

"That's the world. You don't have nobles from where you come from?" Derflinger said, curious.

"No...No nobles, and no magic," Saito whispered. "Those were...well, the middle ages in Europe, but without magic. Or...we had the Shogun and the Daimyo, but not the magic anyways."

He turned thoughtful. "The closest we have to 'nobles' are the representative of the people, elected into a parliament, who make rules and stuff...but they're elected by the people and stay in charge for as little or as long as the people keep voting for them."

"Strange world yours," Derflinger replied. "But how are those representatives chosen?"

"They go on television, or on the newspapers," Saito said. "They say they'll lower taxes and things like that."

"Uhm...and could you become one?"

"I don't think so. You need a lot of money to go on television. And you need to have a party, people who believe your same things and who are willing to help you out..."

"Then, not everyone can become a representative, right?"

"But it's not impossible, just very hard," Saito stressed out.

"And do they have power to make laws and rule?" Derflinger asked offhandedly.

"Well, yes...but only if the majority votes for the same thing like a rule or a law."

"Uhm..." Derflinger remained quiet for a moment, "What if they voted for things that made them all happier? Like, 'more power to them' and less to the people?"

"It depends…if it were something very bad, the people would revolt, I think..."

"Oh? They don't have an army these...representatives?"

Saito gazed up at the clouds. "They do, but it's Japan's and it's not an army...after the war...well, it's a bit complicated, but Japan has a self-defence force, not an outright army because we lost a very big war."

"But they have an army, and they have guards I think?"

"The police, you mean," Saito replied. "Well, yeah."

"So, they can just squash the revolts."

"It doesn't work that way, Derf," Saito deadpanned.

"You know partner, let me tell you something I have learned in my six thousand years of live," the sword hummed. "People in power will always try to remain in power. Their children will want the power of their fathers. Their children's children will want the same thing. There is nothing more difficult, than bringing about a new order of things."

"Democracy, the...name of the government form Japan has, isn't bad," Saito murmured. "It gives all an equal chance."

"In theory, nobility isn't bad either," Derflinger deadpanned. "The nobles provide for the people, helping them strive on barren lands in exchange for tax money and products from the ground...included the lovely daughter of the farmer sometimes. What's wrong with that?"

"That a person should always have rights!" Saito snapped back. "It's just...wrong, to take away someone's rights, war or not! There are rules against torturing enemies and raping, and even some weapons are so atrocious from my world that they're banned in battle. Nobles should at least always try to protect the people, not get what they want because they can."

"Oh? Nevertheless, there are nobles who don't want the daughter of the farmer. That isn't wrong then, right? However, how can you know who is who? What if your 'Democracy' has people that say it's fine to take the daughter of the farmer?"

"It would not! People have rights, and you can't just walk over them!"

Derflinger chuckled. "Really? And why is that?"

"Because...it isn't right."

"Why?"

"It just isn't, Derf."

"Why?"

"I wouldn't want my freedom taken away, for example."

"That's a nice example, but I want a reason."

"There...There is one, I'm sure."

"Of course there is, I know at least two!" Derflinger snorted. "The first reason is because the people in power are afraid that, without those 'rights', they'd one day end up as the people who don't have them. For a noble, it's a matter of losing his wand to become no different from a commoner. Treat your people well, and they will come to your defence even if you're powerless. Rape your people's daughters for example...and rest assured you will not survive the night."

"And what's the second?" Saito asked.

"Because there will always be more peasants than nobles," Derflinger continued. "You ever saw a full-out peasant revolt? I have. Let me tell you this: you think mercenaries are ugly? Wait until you see what the people can do. I remember a group of women tearing apart a child for the sole reason that he was born noble. They vented off their anger, and in exchange were all beheaded a few weeks later when the army rolled in. I still remember the pikes of the castle with their heads on...but that's something that happened a few centuries back," the sword turned thoughtful. "I think a few of those I beheaded myself...well, with the help of the owner of the time, of course."

"But you agree with me, Derf. People have rights."

"Of course partner, but what if the right of the noble is to taste his land's bounty?"

"The...then it's 'everyone should have the same rights, noble or not', that sounds better, right?"

Derflinger hummed. "That sounds heretic, to say the least. Actually, it sounds elven. Not that I care, partner...but why would a noble help a farmstead in need of water, if he doesn't get anything out of it?"

"He can still get the money from taxes," Saito retorted hotly, "He just doesn't get the girl."

"And what if the farmstead is poor?"

"He gets...food?"

"But the farmstead can't produce food, which is why they ask a mage to do something magical about it."

"They can...pay him afterwards?"

"Uhm," Derflinger rattled for a moment, "And what if it barely produces food for them? What if the noble demands an amount of food that is reasonable, but that the farm cannot give?"

"They'll be indebted to him...and they'll pay him back."

"And what if...mind you, this is purely theoretical...what if they already were in his debt? Would they increase the debt? And what if this went on for generations and generations?"

Saito stopped walking. "No amount of money is worth a person's honour or dignity, Derflinger."

As he said those words, he imagined half a thousand of samurai proudly saluting him.

"So it's honour above all, partner?"

"Well...yeah," Saito nodded.

"You know, I had a lot of knights wield me. A lot of 'paladins' and holy men...they brandished me, screaming out the holy words of Brimir and so on. A few truly were holy men, and I was proud to be of help to their quests. There were priests who practically donated everything they had to the poor and soldiers who shielded innocents from harm. At the same time, some just said the words of faith and then proceeded to trial by fire pretty girls who refused their advances...after having their ways with them in the prisons. And you know, the world isn't black and white. I'm sure in your 'Japan' a representative or two does the very same thing. He says nice things, and then he goes somewhere and has his way with a pretty girl against her will."

Saito swallowed a lump. "I'm not...I'd never..."

"I know that, partner," Derflinger said with a cold chuckle. "But remember that I'm neither stupid nor senile. I am six thousand years old. I have seen people act in 'democracies' thousands of years ago, and they all fell to corruption. Dictators rose, and were replaced by kings, then emperors, then electors...then it happened again and again. No form of government is perfect...because the people themselves aren't."

"There was...democracy, here?"

"A few 'barbaric' cities, I think I was with an explorer from Gallia when they chanced upon the 'tribes'. It was interesting, until the 'heathens' refused to accept that nobility equalled magic. You know, they didn't have magic or mages...and off they went, into the darkness of unwritten history. There are also the elves by the way; they elect people to guide them from their tribes. I don't know if it's still used…been six thousand years since I last visited the Holy Lands. Came close once with a crusader, but the guy died of plague before departing."

Saito gazed at his reflection in the glass window of the nearby shop. He bit his lips. "What you're saying is that I shouldn't bother?"

"What I'm saying, partner, is that it doesn't matter. You want to start a revolution? Count me in. You want things to stay as they are? Count me in. Every time Void rose, things happened. Good things, bad things...but they happened. You haven't really a sense of your real power, do you? Once you'll be very angry at someone or something, you'll see and you'll understand."

"Still..." he muttered, "Shouldn't I use this power for good at least?"

"Partner, after six thousand years let me tell you that 'good' and 'evil' stop having borders. If we go by my standards, elves would do 'good' killing every human. You are on their lands after all, since humanity came afterwards."

Saito winced, before nervously chuckling. "You think there's a Germanian Void user?"

"Nope, but I'm sure there is something Void related waiting for us there," Derflinger quipped. "Why did we meet mercenaries from Germania and not Albion? Because there's something in Germania that is tied to the Void. I told you partner, Void attracts Void."

"Uhm...if Void attracts Void," Saito muttered, "Still..." he sighed. "I don't want to kill anyone."

"You don't have to. Partner...I think you're operating under some misconception or something...mercenary don't kill if they can avoid it."

"Eh?"

"What!? You didn't know? Come on! It's obvious! How are you going to be paid if you're dead? They all share a sort of code. Many will flee when the battle starts going on the wrong side, and most of the time their blows only knock off people, rather than kill them. You never know when you might be working with them rather than against them."

There was a moment of silence.

"You might break a bone or two, I admit. Crossbowmen and archers might actually kill you, as will gunners but...rest assured, I can parry arrows and bullets!"

"Wonderful," Saito muttered in disbelief. "How does that work to begin with? I mean..."

"Use the blunt side of the blade. It's not like everyone has perfectly polished, unscathed blades. They're more like blunt metal bats after a few months of usage if you don't grind them properly. Leather armour is normally given, and if it isn't just use the shoulder you like less as a shield."

Saito looked at Derflinger. The blade was still sharp and thin, without a dent –albeit the rust covered most of it.

"Told you...to tell you the truth, the rust is camouflage. Nobody wants the rusty sword, and I knew partner was coming. I could feel it."

The street filled with people as the time passed. The nobles walked on the right side, sticking close to the buildings while the commoners either took the street or the left. The shops opened after lunch and sold their wares.

"Hey, Derf?"

"Yes, partner?"

"Where is the Charming Fairy inn?"

Derflinger didn't answer for a very long minute.

"I have no idea."

Saito just groaned. "Wonderful."

"By the way," Derflinger added, "You misunderstood once more I think."

"Uh?"

"Mercenaries don't do rape. What the German was saying is that there are probably whores following the mercenary band."

Saito spluttered. "What!?"

"Don't give me that 'what' thing. They banned rape as an act of war something like two hundred years ago. Well, the more you know the less stupid you'll look."

"But I thought…I mean…the way he said it…"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Don't worry. The first time I met a Gallian I thought he'd be taller and frothing from the mouth. Common misconceptions since I had been in the Albion-side of that particular war."

"The more time passes," said Saito, "The more I find it harder and harder to grasp just how old you are."

"I'm not old, just pleasantly aged."

"Wait," Saito closed his eyes. "Then what about your talk about the nobleman and the rest?"

"Oh, well, it isn't rape if the other side gives her consensus, right?"

The boy gazed at Derflinger's handle.

"Partner, you have to understand, if you work the land of the noble you belong to the noble. Best-case scenario, he kicks you out of his land. Worst-case scenario, he gets you and kills your family. If you comply, worse you get is what…a few rumps? And gifts, you can't forget the gifts. Fifty ecus seem little, but they can be the difference between starving a winter and living to the next spring."

Derflinger sighed, "Then again, why would nobles devalue their propriety? Trust me, partner. Of the few nobles that yet practice the despicable action of rape, even those are growing further and further low with time. It's just…it's just easier to go with a whore, you know? Or get it on with your marriage and arranged bride."

"But they could, I mean…they could do that if they wanted to."

"If we wanted, we could do that too. I'm a sword, but I saw quite a few things too!" Derflinger chuckled, "Still, as I said before, I go where you go partner."

"No, it's fine Derf," Saito said, steeling himself. "We're going to Germania."

Derflinger just chuckled.

"I think that will be far enough to hear your answer, partner. Staying here or going home…and then, I swear I will do all that I can to make you follow through it."

In the end, they did find the Charming Fairy Inn.

Saito's right eyebrow twitched.

"It's…"

"Oh," Derflinger said. "I see. Well, that's quite a good incentive I think."

"Derf!"

"What!?"

"G-Gah!"

"Gah what!?"

Saito's hands went to his face. "I can't believe this!"

"Believe this what!?"

"It's…It's…"

"Just step inside, partner!"

Saito took a deep breath. "Fine," he exhaled. "Let's do this."

Author's notes

A question I'm sure will be asked is… 'aren't you giving a romantic view to mercenaries'?

Wikipedia states clearly the start of 'anti-rape' laws in the 1410 onwards. Both England and France did so. Napoleon made it pretty clear with the 'If a soldier rapes, shoot him'.

Mercenaries are renowned for cruelty in the lands they pillage, but they do have to follow through the laws of the countries that hire them…it's the 'Honour' of the mercenary. If a mercenary loses honour, he might simply not find work at all.

On the other hand, nothing prohibits him from 'hitting softly'. Many battles actually were a mixture of mercenaries 'feeling' the way battle went and then retreating.

Key example: A battle of 10.000 Italians Vs 12.000 French fought in the beginning of Napoleon's conquest of Italy. The mercenaries lost 2000 men, the French lost considerably less…but the French lost and left the field. On the other hand, the mercenaries backed off the rest of the war.

That's the key problem of mercenaries. You can't enjoy money if you die trying to claim it.

Another question is probably going to be 'The Rape Issue'. The only reason I put this in was to prevent possible questions on 'Siesta' and her fate with Mott. The middle ages, no matter how bad are portrayed, aren't really that bad from the Znt setting. (They're in the 'early modern' age actually. Meaning 1660 going forward.)

There is one last thing. In canon, Albrecht is the sole emperor because he left the rest of Kings to rot in a tower in Gallia. That's…not a known thing yet. Especially if you don't have newspapers.

Which is why Chartreuse speaks of Kings and the emperor being elected in a model of the Holy Roman Empire (EUIV, anyone?)

That's going to change…soon.

And Saito will be right in the middle of it!