The story and characters of El-Hazard were created by Hiroki Hayashi and
Ryoe Tsukimura, and brought to North America by Pioneer LDC. They hold all
copyright to El-Hazard, we hold none. The following story is fan fiction,
and may not be sold or distributed for profit. It is a stand-alone story,
but it takes place in the same continuity as the fan fiction series "El
Hazard: Earth".
We are giving this story a PG rating, with warning of graphic depiction of
violence and some moderately suggestive content.
We would like to thank our pre-readers, Charlie Groark, Greg Smith and
Jerry Yen.
Mark Engels mark_engels@rocketmail.com
Ken Wolfe kenwolfe@mts.net
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Rough Justice: A Tale of El-Hazard
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Nine
----
Makoto stomped past the senior guard, hardly noticing the man's puzzled
stare as he was waved through. Many things weighed heavily on his mind,
none made easier by his recent bouts with insomnia. Everyone knew his wife
needed very little sleep, but of late he had lain awake more nights than
not. He had grown overly accustomed to Ifurita's comforting presence,
either lying next to him or puttering around in their library nearby. Sleep
for Makoto had been elusive and, when it did arrive, tumultuous.
A myriad of half-completed thoughts all seemed to run together as Makoto's
mind struggled to make sense of them all. While just about everyone had
been on edge since the disaster at the amphitheater, it was Ifurita's
behavior that troubled him most. They had seen little of each other in the
days following the Crown's decision to wage a punitive campaign against the
Cerulean nation. His wife had been evasive about her comings and goings,
saying only during the few times their paths crossed such could not be
helped. On more than one occasion over the last several days, Makoto had
considered mobilizing his friends and calling in every favor owed him just
to track her down.
Well finally, Makoto thought as he spied her alone on the balcony. Makoto
felt relieved a breach of protocol such as calling on the military apparat
to find her was now unnecessary.
As she turned upon hearing him approach, Makoto was surprised to see her
smiling warmly at him. Her smile had been an infrequent sight lately, even
during their few recent encounters. While she had plodded about noisily
those times, Ifurita's steps now were quick and light. She approached him
with that familiar twinkle in her eye that prefaced every kiss.
Makoto wanted desperately to forget the other business he knew needed
discussing.
"I am happy you are here," she said as their lips met. "Come and see."
Makoto let her lead him by the hand to the heavy stone railing that closed
off the small balcony. Ifurita took hold of his arm and snuggled up close.
Together they looked out over the airfield below as if they were sharing
another spectacular sunset. Seeing her playful smile, Makoto concluded
Ifurita was quite happy with herself.
The Palace airfield, large as that of a major trading city or naval base,
was normally reserved for private skiffs and cruisers of the Royal Family
and their guests. But the pleasure-barges and speedsters were in their
hangars today to make room for the enormous transport ships that covered the
tarmac. Makoto noted only briefly the activity below them was not quite as
frenzied as when he was last here -- looking for his wife, of course.
"We are ahead of schedule," Ifurita said at last, gazing fondly upon the
soldiers and airmen scrambling to stow their gear. "In fact, we shall
disembark within the hour."
Makoto turned to face Ifurita, looking at her agog. "B-but everyone was
saying you'd be leaving tomorrow afternoon at the earliest," he sputtered.
"That is what we have been reporting, yes."
He snorted disgustedly as he regained his composure. "More disinformation,
then?"
"We felt the fewer people who knew of our true itinerary, the better."
"Sure fooled me," Makoto said as he crossed his arms defensively.
Her smile held no hint of irony. "Then we have bested the Palace rumor
mill, no small feat indeed."
Makoto sighed disappointedly while eyeing the patterns in the floor tile.
"So you'll be going out with the ships after all?"
"Of course. I should be at Justen's side whenever I can. In fact I was
about to return to him." She paused, placing her hands around Makoto's
shoulders. "After I came to see you, that is. Thank you for saving me the
trip."
Their eyes met as Makoto put his arms around her waist and pulled her to
him. He sighed, wishing they could lose themselves in the moment. If even
only for a fleeting instant, he was glad to see his wife back to her old
self once again. But the urgency of the situation nagged at him; his
feelings would have to wait. Breaking their embrace, Makoto held Ifurita
far enough away to lock eyes with her. "Have you really had enough time to
gather all the intelligence you could?"
"I think we have extracted all we can from our informants here," his wife
replied, her voice no longer quite so animated.
"I was talking to Shevlin yesterday. The Intelligence Corps had him up all
night again, repeating everything he said when he'd first turned himself
in."
A shadow passed across Ifurita's face as she averted her eyes. "His
information was particularly valuable," she said woodenly.
"And ten years out of date. Same goes for all the other defectors, Ifurita.
You could go there and find empty caves. Or people who were never even part
of Galus' organization."
"We have considered that, Makoto," Ifurita said matter-of-factly. "We have
evidence that suggests at least one of the perpetrators had ties to Cerulea.
If nothing else we will find clues to the whereabouts of the rest." She
pulled away from him, crossing her arms as her gaze returned to her fleet.
"They shall not elude us for long."
"You know that's not what I meant, Ifurita," Makoto said loudly, flailing
his arms. "Have you considered the possibility of innocents being harmed?"
"We do not desire to kill anyone, Makoto. On the contrary -- we want to
take as many prisoners as possible. That is our reason for using the smoke
grenades."
Makoto hmphed. "I was talking to Qawool yesterday. Sounds to me like
you're planning to use a lot more than smoke bombs. What's this I hear
about Justen using her to flood their lower caves to force them up into the
hands of the Mountain Legion? And with you bombarding the mountain top all
the while? Is that true, Ifurita?"
"It seems you have been busy," she said, regarding him coldly with eyes of
blue steel.
"Don't change the subject," Makoto shot back, placing his hands on his hips.
They regarded each other for a long, troubled moment. Ifurita broke the
uneasy silence, her expression softening before she answered. "Yes, what
you say is true. We want to make sure all possible escape routes are
blocked or covered to collect as many prisoners as we can. Certainly, some
casualties will be inevitable. We shall try to minimize them, of course."
"Well, I'm glad to hear that!" he replied bitterly.
"I take no pleasure in this duty, Makoto!" she shouted, balling up her fists
at her sides. Ifurita breathed deeply, blowing out her breath before
continuing. "I wish we did not need to do this. Truly I do."
Makoto sighed helplessly. "I know, Ifurita, I know. It's just... well, all
this is happening so quickly. We haven't taken time to think one lick about
what we're doing!"
Ifurita smiled sadly. "It has been a long time since we have scrambled so
to defend our friends and countrymen, has it not?" she said before her eyes
unfocused into a faraway stare. "Think of how Prince Justen must feel. All
of this is his responsibility, ultimately."
"Yeah", Makoto pouted. "The world on his shoulders while barely old enough
to shave."
She lifted his chin with one finger and smiled dotingly as their eyes met.
"Just like a certain young man I met once, when he captured my heart."
Makoto managed to return her smile. "So how is he doing?" he asked gently.
"Splendidly. It is largely due to his efforts that we will be able to
counterattack so quickly. He shall make his mother and father proud -- you
will see."
Makoto cast Ifurita a sidelong look. "Lately he seems to be more interested
in making you and al-Farsi proud."
Ifurita's face was suddenly expressionless. "He is under pressure from many
sources."
"So who pressured him to take on this incredible burden, then?"
"You should give him more credit, Makoto. I confess I was also surprised by
his proposal. But he did not make it lightly, of that I am sure."
What a clever way of dodging the question, he thought. "Not half as
surprised as I was when I heard. I wish I'd been there. I'd have given
them a piece of my mind."
Ifurita looked at the floor. "Then perhaps it was best you were not," she
said softly.
Makoto felt his fists clench painfully as the awful realization came to him.
For the first time, he realized the decision to invade Cerulea coming while
he and Traugot supervised the recovery operation had been anything but
coincidental.
But he also realized his point was moot at best. Once Justen had spoken on
behalf of the Crown, it was too late to back out. Or, more likely by
Makoto's reckoning, whoever had planted the idea in Justen's head had made
good and sure it was too late to back out. Even if he and Traugot had been
in the council chambers, no amount of blustering from either of them would
have changed anything.
"We may question the wisdom of this course," Ifurita continued. "Now that
Prince Justen has made it, we must support him in any way we can."
"Questioning ill-considered plans is the best sort of support there is!"
Makoto shouted, unsuccessfully trying to keep the anger out of his voice.
"You know well many other things needs must be considered, Makoto," Ifurita
said sternly as she turned on him.
Makoto's hands trembled angrily as he grabbed both her hands in his. He
struggled to open their link as his emotions boiled over.
#Damn it, Ifurita! Have you considered that even if we do find who did
this, we still can't have Miz and Masamichi back?#
The change in Ifurita's expression and posture was as remarkable as it was
disquieting. Standing stock still, Makoto felt chills as her face contorted
into a cold mask of defiance.
#I know that all too well, Makoto. But we certainly can prevent this sort
of outrage from ever happening again. I shall ensure another Roshtarian
need not endure what Ai has endured.#
#Do you really believe that, Ifurita?#
"Oh, Lucine! Aren't they the cutest thing while they're spatting?"
Makoto cursed under his breath as his head snapped around toward where the
slurred voice had come. With her usual air, Fatora waltzed in as if she
owned the place. Then again, Makoto supposed, she more or less did. With
her favorite goblet in one hand, which since Alielle's infidelity had come
to light had been commonplace, in the other she held her favorite concubine.
By the rump, that is.
Fatora had been going through girls like drill bits since Alielle's
departure. Only within the last year, though, had Lucine been presented to
the Princess Regent. She had demonstrated her staying power though Makoto
could not imagine why. Those of Fatora's consorts he had met before had all
been pleasant company, just as they were trained to be. On the other hand,
Lucine was obsequious with Fatora and surly with everyone else. Her face
seemed to be permanently fused in that same sultry smile; Makoto never once
saw her walk without strutting like some peacock. Despite the tall, dusky,
voluptuous young woman being almost obscenely beautiful, Makoto found her
repulsive. He suspected that only endeared Lucine to her all the more.
Ifurita bowed. "Good afternoon, your highness."
"Onesan told me you'll be leaving today, so I thought I'd come toast your
good fortune," Fatora said, raising her goblet. "So, show me what's
happening."
Fatora and her silent consort walked over to the balcony railing. She put
her drink down on the railing and leaned far out, looking down as Ifurita
deadpanned an explanation of the preparations they were watching. His wife
kept close to the tipsy princess, no doubt standing by to prevent her from
falling over the edge. She needn't have bothered, Makoto noted. Lucine
stuck to Fatora like a barnacle, ostensibly to ward against the same
eventuality. Watching the scantily clad concubine smile fondly at her
mistress in her sickeningly sweet way, Makoto worried he would surely retch.
And damn Fatora, anyway. Was this the same Fatora who almost never took
interest in any affairs of state that now wanted to know everything? "Hey,
look at the size of those energy rifles they're carrying! Are those
telescopes on top of them?"
"Yes, Princess. Those are the Mountain Legion's snipers. The scopes are
treated so that the snipers can see through all but the most powerful
illusion spells. They will be stationed in the woods around the operational
theater watching for anyone trying to escape. They can hit a target at two
hundred yards."
"No kidding? Do they take the ears off their kills?"
"No, Princess, they do not."
"Too bad. I would have asked you for a souvenir." She picked up her goblet
and took a good swig. "Bloody blue-skinned bastards. Kidnap me back in the
day and now try to kill my nephew, will they? We'll show them."
Ifurita turned to face Fatora. "If you would excuse me, your highness, I
must report to Prince Justen before we make final preparations to depart."
"Sure. You give 'em hell now, you hear me?"
Ifurita and Fatora exchanged gleeful smiles that to Makoto appeared
frighteningly similar. "Oh, we shall, your highness. We most certainly
shall."
"Damn straight," Fatora said, saluting Ifurita with her drink. "Carry on."
"Thank you, your highness." Picking up her key staff from where it lay
propped against the stone railing, Ifurita turned to Makoto with a sad,
apologetic smile only he could see. "I shall have to take my leave now, my
lord."
Makoto had been hoping for Fatora to leave first, but obviously that was not
going to happen. "Watch over our Prince for us."
"I shall, my lord." With that, she rose into the air and flew down towards
the lead transport down on the airfield.
"You're right, mistress," Lucine said in her deep, silky voice as the two
women undressed Ifurita's departing form in their minds. "She's a real
dish."
"Your first time seeing her up close, huh? Hey, you think that gets you
wet, wait until I tell you about the time I had her in bed. I was ready to
go worship at the Church of the Almighty Demon-God for certain!"
Lucine giggled. "There's a Church of the Demon-God?"
"Yeah, they figure Ifurita can take them to heaven. Ah, but they just have
no idea!" Fatora cooed. "No idea at all..."
Makoto decided he had heard about enough of Fatora's fantasizing. He took
advantage of being ignored and slipped away quietly.
It was just like Fatora to show up at exactly the wrong moment. There was
so much more he wanted to say to his wife before she left on this fool's
errand. He suspected she had used the Princess' arrival as an excuse to
make an early departure. After spending the better part of two days looking
for her, he felt as though he had done no good at all. He had expected her
to come see him long before now, so he had been content just to wait. But
he had grown restless and set out to find her himself. Had he known the
expedition planned to leave so soon, he would have started his search
earlier.
No point worrying about that now, he thought. There was still much work to
do, although by now he felt he had wasted most of the day. A sudden growl
in his stomach reminded him he had not eaten since breakfast. As he glanced
up through the skylights in the Great Hall he realized it was mid-afternoon
already. Makoto sighed resignedly, thinking perhaps he should at least eat
something before trying to solve all Roshtaria's problems.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The two guards stationed outside the doorway to their rooms bowed as Makoto
approached. Even though Londs had abolished the detail years ago, the
sentries had reappeared quickly after the attack. "The lady Nanami came
calling, my lord," the junior man said as he approached. "She desired to
await your return."
"Only Nanami?"
"That is correct, my lord."
Makoto's brow knit as he struggled to remember the last time Nanami had come
to visit without having Shevlin with her. He gave up; after Ifurita's
hurried departure he believed the company would do him good. "Please have
the servants bring lunch for two."
"At once, my lord."
Makoto waited momentarily as the men opened the double doors for him. He
walked briskly into the spacious sitting room, eager to talk with his old
friend. Seeing her long copper braid over the back of the couch, he smiled.
Suddenly she stood bolt upright and whirled around. The sparkle was gone in
the brown eyes that met his, replaced only with fear and loathing. Makoto's
face fell.
His mind raced back to that awful day many years ago. It was right after
Nanami had seen Nahato on Earth when they learned about the silent invasion
of Galus' remaining Phantom Tribe. He had hoped he would never again see
that frightened, bewildered expression again. But there it was, just the
same.
Oh gods, had she discovered spies in the Palace itself?
"Makoto, thank God!" Nanami wailed. For a moment he thought she would
surely vault the couch between them, but she raced around it instead.
Nearly bowling him over, she clutched desperately at his shirt while looking
up at him with liquid eyes. "You've got to help us!"
"Nanami, w-what's happened?" Makoto asked, trying to keep the panic out of
his own voice.
"They've taken him! They've taken Shevlin!"
"What? Who's taken him?" Did Nanami even know?
"The Palace guard! They took him while I was out buying herbs! Jilyn saw
the whole thing! I ran the whole way here, but nobody knows anything!"
Makoto's mind reeled. This makes no sense!
"Aren't they just interviewing him again? He was one of Galus' top--"
"It wasn't just intelligence officers!" Nanami shouted, giving him a good
shake. "It was a whole squad of armed guards, Makoto! They wouldn't do
that just to bring someone in for voluntary questioning!"
She was right about that. He gently took hold of her shoulders, trying to
calm her. "Nan, this is probably all a mistake. Things have been crazy
around here. Maybe somebody hadn't been informed that Shevlin had already
volunteered for questioning, and was afraid he would skip town."
"But why won't anyone talk to me?" Nanami implored him. "They almost
wouldn't let me into your room!"
That was disturbing indeed. Nanami had much the same status Makoto did here
in the Palace; she could go almost anywhere she liked. "We should find
Londs. He's coordinating security operations here at the Palace -- if
anybody can fix this mess it's him. Let's go right now, okay?"
Nanami sniffed and nodded, giving a soft, muffled sound of agreement. Ura
sat silently watching them from atop the couch back with a look of mild
concern. No doubt the cat-armor had been snuggled up against Makoto's
friend as she waited for him, sensing her distress. In a flash of
inspiration, seeing the orange-maned cat gave him an idea.
"Ura!" Makoto yelled, patting his shoulder. Leaping from the back of the
sofa, the big cat wrapped herself securely around his torso, covering him
like corset armor. He chuckled in response to Nanami's puzzled stare.
"Makes me look like I'm on official business. It'll grease the wheels of
Palace security." He put an arm about Nanami's shoulder and steered her to
the door. "Just try to stay quiet and let me do the talking, all right?
I've become a pro at seeing people whose doormen think they're too busy."
After calling in more than a few favors, Makoto learned Londs was working
from an office next to the detention block. That fact in itself troubled
him. As Makoto and Nanami briskly retraced their steps along the
insufferably long palace corridors, they heard the low thrumming of the
transport flyers' engines. Through the high arched openings that lined the
curved corridor, Makoto saw two lines of the armored behemoths ascending
into the sky. "What's with all the boats leaving?" Nanami asked without
glancing up.
Makoto knew full well he was not to speak of the expedition to anyone
outside the Council. Damn them anyway! They owe Nanami at least as much as
they owe me, he thought. She has a right to know.
"It's a punitive expedition heading for Cerulea."
Nanami stopped as though she had hit a wall. "W-what?" was all she could
manage as she blinked at him, utterly stupefied. "Makoto, do you know
something I don't?"
Makoto knew he had neither time nor breath enough to go into details, never
mind telling Nanami how he really felt. "We found evidence suggesting the
Phantom Tribe in Cerulea was responsible for the attack," he said, unable to
meet her eyes.
"Oh, no," Nanami breathed. "Dear God. We thought that was just some stupid
rumor!"
With that she was off again, sprinting down the corridor. Having not eaten
for some time and still feeling the effects of his sleeplessness, Makoto was
hard pressed to keep up.
The underground block was cramped, ill lit and musty smelling, reminding
Makoto of something right out of a low-budget horror flick. He and Nanami
had to pass two checkpoints before being ushered into a small, low-ceilinged
antechamber to wait.
Makoto looked over at Nanami now and again, noting each time her panic was
slowly but surely being replaced with seething anger. She sat there fuming,
arms crossed, staring at the wooden door. He wondered whether its iron
hinges might begin to melt if she stared at the door long enough. Time
seemed to drag on endlessly while the desk sergeant paid them little notice.
After what certainly seemed longer than a few minutes, the door opened to
admit a guard officer hurrying off as if carrying out new orders. The desk
sergeant disinterestedly waved them in before returning to his paperwork.
Londs' office was even smaller than the antechamber. A single window slit
high up on one bare stone wall shed little light, but a ceiling glowlamp
provided enough to read by. Londs' heavily lined face looked weary and sad,
to Makoto becoming more so seeing them enter.
"I knew at length you would seek me out," he said, sighing heavily while
gesturing for them to sit. Ura slid out from around Makoto's middle,
perching on one corner of the heavy wooden desk. "Close the door behind
you."
Makoto hadn't even slid the latch bolt closed before Nanami came undone.
"What the hell is the meaning of this?" she screamed, slamming both hands
down hard on the desk and sending Ura scurrying. "My husband was hauled off
in chains by a whole squad of armed guards this morning! WHY?!"
So much for letting me do the talking, Makoto thought glumly. But Londs
acted as though he had been expecting this, not so much as raising an
eyebrow during her outburst. In fact, the old man looked somewhat relieved.
"Your husband is being held here in the palace under protective custody, as
are the other former operatives of the Tribe's intelligence network," he
said while Ura cautiously returned to her perch.
"'Protective custody?' What the hell does that mean? Is he under arrest or
isn't he?!"
"No, he is not. But he is not free to leave the Palace either." Londs'
voice went flat, as though repeating some official slogan he had long since
wearied of. "Merely for his own safety, of course."
"His own safety?" Nanami asked only slightly less loudly. "And just who,
pray tell, are you protecting him *from*?"
"From vigilantes who might commit violence against Tribesmen."
Nanami reacted as though she had been slapped. "D-did something happen?"
Londs appeared ready to recite another distasteful official policy but
sighed instead. "No, nothing has happened, at least not yet," he said,
shaking his head. "Nevertheless my superiors believed violence against
Tribesmen was likely given recent revelations. Thus I was ordered to detain
all their former operatives, including Shevlin."
"Ordered by whom?"
Makoto felt his heart sink, trying but failing to find fault with his own
hypothesis. "Nanami--"
"Who gave the order, Londs? Tell me!"
"The Champion requested it, and the Queen approved."
Nanami's words failed her as she stared dumbfounded at the old man. Makoto
protested, more to refute his own conclusions rather than Londs'
presentation of the facts. "No, there must be some mistake."
The man met Makoto's gaze, the sadness clear in his weary eyes. "I was in
the Sovereignty Council meeting when Lady Ifurita requested this action," he
said before pausing to rub his temples. Makoto had never before seen him
look so tired or so aged. He felt badly for his old friend, dealing with
bad business such as this in the eve of his long and distinguished service
to the Crown.
Londs looked back up at the two of them. "Of course Her Majesty and I
questioned the proposal, but the Champion was adamant. She eventually
relented."
"I don't get it," Makoto said. "If you're trying to prevent violence
against Tribesmen, having them marched into detention under armed guard is
the last thing Floristicans need to see."
"It's got nothing to do with protection."
Both Londs and Makoto looked at Nanami. Her tone had softened but could not
hide her overwhelming bitterness. The wild anger in her face had settled
down to a cold fury.
"You just don't trust them, do you? Even after they turned themselves in,
spilled their guts and turned their backs on everything they knew, you still
don't trust them," she ranted, waving her hands in the air wildly. "My God,
Londs -- they've been living here over twenty years! They're more
Roshtarian than most Roshtarians!"
"Many of them have been among us secretly for a good deal longer than that,
Nanami," Londs deadpanned.
Both Nanami and Makoto stared incredulously at Londs, shocked to hear him
say such a thing.
"Londs, that's not fair," Makoto said at last, breaking the uncomfortable
silence. "You've been as supportive of the defectors as anyone. I can't
believe I'm hearing this from you."
To which Londs merely smiled wanly. "Precisely what I told the Champion
when she said to me what I have just said to you."
"And what was her answer?" Nanami asked.
"That it was for their own protection."
"That's what I thought," she said, standing again. Ura once again dove for
cover as Nanami banged both fists hard on the desk, this time upsetting the
inkwell. "I demand to see my husband, Londs! NOW!!"
Londs' face took on a frown of obstinate officialdom as he glowered a moment
at the little river of ink trickling over his ruined papers. "That is
simply not possible at this time, Nanami," he replied, looking back up at
her as she panted angrily. "I have strict orders that nobody is to see them
for at least a week." Abruptly a touch of irony entered his voice. "So
that nobody knows where they are detained, as if there were anyone left who
does not."
He stood and approached Makoto and Nanami while pulling at the front of his
tunic. Towering over them both, Londs placed his hands comfortingly on
Nanami's shoulders. "My lady, you have my word of honor that neither
Shevlin nor the other Tribesmen in my custody have been harmed. I shall see
to it that they are well treated. After a week, I shall arrange for you to
see him whenever you wish."
"Damn it all, I just want to see him for a minute!" Nanami begged as she
groped desperately at Londs' cloak. "Okay, I take your word that he's all
right, but he's probably worried about how I'm holding up. Just for a
minute, Londs. Please?"
The old man shook his head. "I'm sorry, Nanami. However, I shall
personally go see him straight away. I will tell him you were here and
reassure him you are well." Londs held out his hands and shrugged. "That
is the best I can do."
Nanami let go of Londs' cloak and straightened up. "Fine. Since there's
obviously no point arguing with you, I'll be back in a week."
"Before you take your leave, there is one more thing we should discuss."
Makoto felt suddenly uneasy as Nanami glared at Londs with daggers in her
eyes. "Given the situation, we are suggesting the adopted families of
Tribesmen also voluntarily submit to protective confinement. Perhaps you
might stay with Lord Mizuhara until--"
"Damn you, Londs! Damn you to hell!" Nanami shrieked before stomping
towards the door.
"Wait, Nan!" Makoto pleaded, moving to intercept her.
Nanami turned on him, allowing Makoto to see the anger flaring behind her
misting eyes. She jabbed her finger accusingly into his face as tears began
to trickle down her cheeks.
"I'm not even going to bother asking whether *you* knew anything about this,
Makoto. As usual you are utterly oblivious to everything going on around
you. Go stick your head back in the sand!"
She yanked the heavy door open with force that belied her slight frame.
Makoto winced as the iron bindings clanged loudly against the doorstop,
echoing throughout the detention block.
Makoto only managed to take half a step toward the door before Londs called
his name. "Londs, I--"
The old man shook his head. "You know well as I your good intentions would
be for naught." Once again Londs motioned toward the wooden chairs in front
of his desk. "Come sit down, my friend. We needs must talk."
Reluctantly, Makoto did as he was asked. "Londs, just when did Ifurita
suggest this? And what is this Sovereignty Council anyway? I've never
heard of it."
"It is something that does not exist, well, at least not officially. It
consists of the King and Queen, the Champion, the Commandant of the Navy,
the Grand Marshall of the Army and me. It was actually formed years ago,
but this is the first time we have done more than discuss possible threats
to the Alliance."
"I notice Justen is not on your list."
"The Prince knows nothing about it," Londs' replied, narrowing his eyes.
"And neither do you."
Makoto nodded. He deduced from the list of names alone this Sovereignty
Council's sole charter was to uphold the sovereignty of the Roshtarian
crown. But such only served to confound him more. "I was merely wondering
whether the Sovereignty Council had anything to do with Justen's proposal
for the expedition."
"No. We were all just as surprised as everyone else. Everyone, I'd wager,
except Ifurita and al-Farsi," he said, crossing his arms disgustedly as he
reclined in his chair.
Makoto's eyes went wide. "How do you figure?"
"Process of elimination, really. It is my business to know what goes on in
the Palace, so I know exactly whom Justen has been seeing of late. I also
know who has been speaking in the strongest terms about retaliation for the
attack. I find it difficult to believe you did not already suspect them
yourself."
Makoto shrugged. "I did. But I still can't comprehend why."
"Al-Farsi is the easy one. He has friends in the military, was instrumental
in forming the Mountain Legion, and has always been a hard-liner on the
treatment of former enemies," Londs said, counting on his fingers. "His
home province also stands to gain economically if from the geynosanium mines
should Cerulea become a formal member of the Alliance. Either of those
alone would be reason enough for him to support a military solution. As for
Ifurita..." Londs' voice drifted off as shrugged.
"She seems driven by... well, personal reasons. Actually, Makoto, I was
hoping you might enlighten me."
Makoto was uncomfortable talking about this. But Londs had told him far
more than he had a right to know. He owed his old friend the truth.
"She was devastated by the deaths of Lord Fujisawa and Lady Miz," he said
quietly, more to the floor than to anyone else. "Their daughter is our
goddaughter, you know. I don't think even I realized how much they meant to
her. She seemed lost without them." Makoto looked up into the old man's
eyes. "But when we found out about the connection with Cerulea, she
suddenly became focused again. I've hardly seen her in the past week,
Londs." Makoto stood up, twiddling nervously at his mustache. "She hasn't
been home to sleep for days. She can do that when she needs to. I think I
can understand why she's eager for payback, but this business with Shevlin
is so senseless!"
"You think her concern for his safety is not justified?"
Makoto considered the man's question for a moment and then shook his head.
"No, Nanami's right; this has nothing to do with protection. If it did, she
would have at least spoken with Nanami and Shevlin herself. They wouldn't
have liked it, but at least they might have understood. She must see
Shevlin as a threat to what she's doing." He leaned up against the wall,
puffing his cheeks as he blew out his breath. "Shev's Phantom Tribe.
That's all Ifurita seems to need."
"I could not help but notice the Champion's timing," Londs said. "She made
certain by the time you found out about this, she had already disembarked
for Cerulea."
"Yeah." Londs' astute observation only served to confirm what he already
suspected. Ifurita had been avoiding him, perhaps even intending to leave
before Makoto had chance to talk with her at all. "I did see her briefly,"
he said in a small voice, feeling ashamed. "We didn't get much chance to
talk."
"I don't think it is just you she is evading, my friend," Londs said
comfortingly. "The Champion has been virtually unapproachable of late by
anyone save for the Royal Family and Minister al-Farsi. She has immersed
herself in the details of the operation and its preparations. Consciously
or unconsciously, I believe what she is really avoiding is an opportunity
for anyone to question her actions."
It sounded to Makoto like the old man had figured this out long ago. He
stood up abruptly, his jaw set with determination. "Thank you for
everything, Londs. I should be going now." Ura leapt up from the floor,
wrapping herself around him as he turned toward the door.
"I hope you are not entertaining thoughts of going to Cerulea, young man.
The arrow has been loosed; there is no stopping it now."
"I know. But there may be something I can do here," Makoto said from the
doorway. "I'll be at the amphitheater helping Traugot with the analyses."
He did not bother to turn around before pulling the heavy door shut behind
him.
Nanami is right, Makoto thought as he and Ura made a beeline back to his
rooms. I have had my head in the sand until now.
But not any more.
An old song lyric came to him along with an idea, and a smile slowly came to
his face. He felt a lightness he hadn't felt in days as he left the dreary
dungeon. Without even realizing it, Makoto began humming along with the
tune in his head.
"I get by with a little help from my friends."
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
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Ryoe Tsukimura, and brought to North America by Pioneer LDC. They hold all
copyright to El-Hazard, we hold none. The following story is fan fiction,
and may not be sold or distributed for profit. It is a stand-alone story,
but it takes place in the same continuity as the fan fiction series "El
Hazard: Earth".
We are giving this story a PG rating, with warning of graphic depiction of
violence and some moderately suggestive content.
We would like to thank our pre-readers, Charlie Groark, Greg Smith and
Jerry Yen.
Mark Engels mark_engels@rocketmail.com
Ken Wolfe kenwolfe@mts.net
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Rough Justice: A Tale of El-Hazard
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----
Nine
----
Makoto stomped past the senior guard, hardly noticing the man's puzzled
stare as he was waved through. Many things weighed heavily on his mind,
none made easier by his recent bouts with insomnia. Everyone knew his wife
needed very little sleep, but of late he had lain awake more nights than
not. He had grown overly accustomed to Ifurita's comforting presence,
either lying next to him or puttering around in their library nearby. Sleep
for Makoto had been elusive and, when it did arrive, tumultuous.
A myriad of half-completed thoughts all seemed to run together as Makoto's
mind struggled to make sense of them all. While just about everyone had
been on edge since the disaster at the amphitheater, it was Ifurita's
behavior that troubled him most. They had seen little of each other in the
days following the Crown's decision to wage a punitive campaign against the
Cerulean nation. His wife had been evasive about her comings and goings,
saying only during the few times their paths crossed such could not be
helped. On more than one occasion over the last several days, Makoto had
considered mobilizing his friends and calling in every favor owed him just
to track her down.
Well finally, Makoto thought as he spied her alone on the balcony. Makoto
felt relieved a breach of protocol such as calling on the military apparat
to find her was now unnecessary.
As she turned upon hearing him approach, Makoto was surprised to see her
smiling warmly at him. Her smile had been an infrequent sight lately, even
during their few recent encounters. While she had plodded about noisily
those times, Ifurita's steps now were quick and light. She approached him
with that familiar twinkle in her eye that prefaced every kiss.
Makoto wanted desperately to forget the other business he knew needed
discussing.
"I am happy you are here," she said as their lips met. "Come and see."
Makoto let her lead him by the hand to the heavy stone railing that closed
off the small balcony. Ifurita took hold of his arm and snuggled up close.
Together they looked out over the airfield below as if they were sharing
another spectacular sunset. Seeing her playful smile, Makoto concluded
Ifurita was quite happy with herself.
The Palace airfield, large as that of a major trading city or naval base,
was normally reserved for private skiffs and cruisers of the Royal Family
and their guests. But the pleasure-barges and speedsters were in their
hangars today to make room for the enormous transport ships that covered the
tarmac. Makoto noted only briefly the activity below them was not quite as
frenzied as when he was last here -- looking for his wife, of course.
"We are ahead of schedule," Ifurita said at last, gazing fondly upon the
soldiers and airmen scrambling to stow their gear. "In fact, we shall
disembark within the hour."
Makoto turned to face Ifurita, looking at her agog. "B-but everyone was
saying you'd be leaving tomorrow afternoon at the earliest," he sputtered.
"That is what we have been reporting, yes."
He snorted disgustedly as he regained his composure. "More disinformation,
then?"
"We felt the fewer people who knew of our true itinerary, the better."
"Sure fooled me," Makoto said as he crossed his arms defensively.
Her smile held no hint of irony. "Then we have bested the Palace rumor
mill, no small feat indeed."
Makoto sighed disappointedly while eyeing the patterns in the floor tile.
"So you'll be going out with the ships after all?"
"Of course. I should be at Justen's side whenever I can. In fact I was
about to return to him." She paused, placing her hands around Makoto's
shoulders. "After I came to see you, that is. Thank you for saving me the
trip."
Their eyes met as Makoto put his arms around her waist and pulled her to
him. He sighed, wishing they could lose themselves in the moment. If even
only for a fleeting instant, he was glad to see his wife back to her old
self once again. But the urgency of the situation nagged at him; his
feelings would have to wait. Breaking their embrace, Makoto held Ifurita
far enough away to lock eyes with her. "Have you really had enough time to
gather all the intelligence you could?"
"I think we have extracted all we can from our informants here," his wife
replied, her voice no longer quite so animated.
"I was talking to Shevlin yesterday. The Intelligence Corps had him up all
night again, repeating everything he said when he'd first turned himself
in."
A shadow passed across Ifurita's face as she averted her eyes. "His
information was particularly valuable," she said woodenly.
"And ten years out of date. Same goes for all the other defectors, Ifurita.
You could go there and find empty caves. Or people who were never even part
of Galus' organization."
"We have considered that, Makoto," Ifurita said matter-of-factly. "We have
evidence that suggests at least one of the perpetrators had ties to Cerulea.
If nothing else we will find clues to the whereabouts of the rest." She
pulled away from him, crossing her arms as her gaze returned to her fleet.
"They shall not elude us for long."
"You know that's not what I meant, Ifurita," Makoto said loudly, flailing
his arms. "Have you considered the possibility of innocents being harmed?"
"We do not desire to kill anyone, Makoto. On the contrary -- we want to
take as many prisoners as possible. That is our reason for using the smoke
grenades."
Makoto hmphed. "I was talking to Qawool yesterday. Sounds to me like
you're planning to use a lot more than smoke bombs. What's this I hear
about Justen using her to flood their lower caves to force them up into the
hands of the Mountain Legion? And with you bombarding the mountain top all
the while? Is that true, Ifurita?"
"It seems you have been busy," she said, regarding him coldly with eyes of
blue steel.
"Don't change the subject," Makoto shot back, placing his hands on his hips.
They regarded each other for a long, troubled moment. Ifurita broke the
uneasy silence, her expression softening before she answered. "Yes, what
you say is true. We want to make sure all possible escape routes are
blocked or covered to collect as many prisoners as we can. Certainly, some
casualties will be inevitable. We shall try to minimize them, of course."
"Well, I'm glad to hear that!" he replied bitterly.
"I take no pleasure in this duty, Makoto!" she shouted, balling up her fists
at her sides. Ifurita breathed deeply, blowing out her breath before
continuing. "I wish we did not need to do this. Truly I do."
Makoto sighed helplessly. "I know, Ifurita, I know. It's just... well, all
this is happening so quickly. We haven't taken time to think one lick about
what we're doing!"
Ifurita smiled sadly. "It has been a long time since we have scrambled so
to defend our friends and countrymen, has it not?" she said before her eyes
unfocused into a faraway stare. "Think of how Prince Justen must feel. All
of this is his responsibility, ultimately."
"Yeah", Makoto pouted. "The world on his shoulders while barely old enough
to shave."
She lifted his chin with one finger and smiled dotingly as their eyes met.
"Just like a certain young man I met once, when he captured my heart."
Makoto managed to return her smile. "So how is he doing?" he asked gently.
"Splendidly. It is largely due to his efforts that we will be able to
counterattack so quickly. He shall make his mother and father proud -- you
will see."
Makoto cast Ifurita a sidelong look. "Lately he seems to be more interested
in making you and al-Farsi proud."
Ifurita's face was suddenly expressionless. "He is under pressure from many
sources."
"So who pressured him to take on this incredible burden, then?"
"You should give him more credit, Makoto. I confess I was also surprised by
his proposal. But he did not make it lightly, of that I am sure."
What a clever way of dodging the question, he thought. "Not half as
surprised as I was when I heard. I wish I'd been there. I'd have given
them a piece of my mind."
Ifurita looked at the floor. "Then perhaps it was best you were not," she
said softly.
Makoto felt his fists clench painfully as the awful realization came to him.
For the first time, he realized the decision to invade Cerulea coming while
he and Traugot supervised the recovery operation had been anything but
coincidental.
But he also realized his point was moot at best. Once Justen had spoken on
behalf of the Crown, it was too late to back out. Or, more likely by
Makoto's reckoning, whoever had planted the idea in Justen's head had made
good and sure it was too late to back out. Even if he and Traugot had been
in the council chambers, no amount of blustering from either of them would
have changed anything.
"We may question the wisdom of this course," Ifurita continued. "Now that
Prince Justen has made it, we must support him in any way we can."
"Questioning ill-considered plans is the best sort of support there is!"
Makoto shouted, unsuccessfully trying to keep the anger out of his voice.
"You know well many other things needs must be considered, Makoto," Ifurita
said sternly as she turned on him.
Makoto's hands trembled angrily as he grabbed both her hands in his. He
struggled to open their link as his emotions boiled over.
#Damn it, Ifurita! Have you considered that even if we do find who did
this, we still can't have Miz and Masamichi back?#
The change in Ifurita's expression and posture was as remarkable as it was
disquieting. Standing stock still, Makoto felt chills as her face contorted
into a cold mask of defiance.
#I know that all too well, Makoto. But we certainly can prevent this sort
of outrage from ever happening again. I shall ensure another Roshtarian
need not endure what Ai has endured.#
#Do you really believe that, Ifurita?#
"Oh, Lucine! Aren't they the cutest thing while they're spatting?"
Makoto cursed under his breath as his head snapped around toward where the
slurred voice had come. With her usual air, Fatora waltzed in as if she
owned the place. Then again, Makoto supposed, she more or less did. With
her favorite goblet in one hand, which since Alielle's infidelity had come
to light had been commonplace, in the other she held her favorite concubine.
By the rump, that is.
Fatora had been going through girls like drill bits since Alielle's
departure. Only within the last year, though, had Lucine been presented to
the Princess Regent. She had demonstrated her staying power though Makoto
could not imagine why. Those of Fatora's consorts he had met before had all
been pleasant company, just as they were trained to be. On the other hand,
Lucine was obsequious with Fatora and surly with everyone else. Her face
seemed to be permanently fused in that same sultry smile; Makoto never once
saw her walk without strutting like some peacock. Despite the tall, dusky,
voluptuous young woman being almost obscenely beautiful, Makoto found her
repulsive. He suspected that only endeared Lucine to her all the more.
Ifurita bowed. "Good afternoon, your highness."
"Onesan told me you'll be leaving today, so I thought I'd come toast your
good fortune," Fatora said, raising her goblet. "So, show me what's
happening."
Fatora and her silent consort walked over to the balcony railing. She put
her drink down on the railing and leaned far out, looking down as Ifurita
deadpanned an explanation of the preparations they were watching. His wife
kept close to the tipsy princess, no doubt standing by to prevent her from
falling over the edge. She needn't have bothered, Makoto noted. Lucine
stuck to Fatora like a barnacle, ostensibly to ward against the same
eventuality. Watching the scantily clad concubine smile fondly at her
mistress in her sickeningly sweet way, Makoto worried he would surely retch.
And damn Fatora, anyway. Was this the same Fatora who almost never took
interest in any affairs of state that now wanted to know everything? "Hey,
look at the size of those energy rifles they're carrying! Are those
telescopes on top of them?"
"Yes, Princess. Those are the Mountain Legion's snipers. The scopes are
treated so that the snipers can see through all but the most powerful
illusion spells. They will be stationed in the woods around the operational
theater watching for anyone trying to escape. They can hit a target at two
hundred yards."
"No kidding? Do they take the ears off their kills?"
"No, Princess, they do not."
"Too bad. I would have asked you for a souvenir." She picked up her goblet
and took a good swig. "Bloody blue-skinned bastards. Kidnap me back in the
day and now try to kill my nephew, will they? We'll show them."
Ifurita turned to face Fatora. "If you would excuse me, your highness, I
must report to Prince Justen before we make final preparations to depart."
"Sure. You give 'em hell now, you hear me?"
Ifurita and Fatora exchanged gleeful smiles that to Makoto appeared
frighteningly similar. "Oh, we shall, your highness. We most certainly
shall."
"Damn straight," Fatora said, saluting Ifurita with her drink. "Carry on."
"Thank you, your highness." Picking up her key staff from where it lay
propped against the stone railing, Ifurita turned to Makoto with a sad,
apologetic smile only he could see. "I shall have to take my leave now, my
lord."
Makoto had been hoping for Fatora to leave first, but obviously that was not
going to happen. "Watch over our Prince for us."
"I shall, my lord." With that, she rose into the air and flew down towards
the lead transport down on the airfield.
"You're right, mistress," Lucine said in her deep, silky voice as the two
women undressed Ifurita's departing form in their minds. "She's a real
dish."
"Your first time seeing her up close, huh? Hey, you think that gets you
wet, wait until I tell you about the time I had her in bed. I was ready to
go worship at the Church of the Almighty Demon-God for certain!"
Lucine giggled. "There's a Church of the Demon-God?"
"Yeah, they figure Ifurita can take them to heaven. Ah, but they just have
no idea!" Fatora cooed. "No idea at all..."
Makoto decided he had heard about enough of Fatora's fantasizing. He took
advantage of being ignored and slipped away quietly.
It was just like Fatora to show up at exactly the wrong moment. There was
so much more he wanted to say to his wife before she left on this fool's
errand. He suspected she had used the Princess' arrival as an excuse to
make an early departure. After spending the better part of two days looking
for her, he felt as though he had done no good at all. He had expected her
to come see him long before now, so he had been content just to wait. But
he had grown restless and set out to find her himself. Had he known the
expedition planned to leave so soon, he would have started his search
earlier.
No point worrying about that now, he thought. There was still much work to
do, although by now he felt he had wasted most of the day. A sudden growl
in his stomach reminded him he had not eaten since breakfast. As he glanced
up through the skylights in the Great Hall he realized it was mid-afternoon
already. Makoto sighed resignedly, thinking perhaps he should at least eat
something before trying to solve all Roshtaria's problems.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The two guards stationed outside the doorway to their rooms bowed as Makoto
approached. Even though Londs had abolished the detail years ago, the
sentries had reappeared quickly after the attack. "The lady Nanami came
calling, my lord," the junior man said as he approached. "She desired to
await your return."
"Only Nanami?"
"That is correct, my lord."
Makoto's brow knit as he struggled to remember the last time Nanami had come
to visit without having Shevlin with her. He gave up; after Ifurita's
hurried departure he believed the company would do him good. "Please have
the servants bring lunch for two."
"At once, my lord."
Makoto waited momentarily as the men opened the double doors for him. He
walked briskly into the spacious sitting room, eager to talk with his old
friend. Seeing her long copper braid over the back of the couch, he smiled.
Suddenly she stood bolt upright and whirled around. The sparkle was gone in
the brown eyes that met his, replaced only with fear and loathing. Makoto's
face fell.
His mind raced back to that awful day many years ago. It was right after
Nanami had seen Nahato on Earth when they learned about the silent invasion
of Galus' remaining Phantom Tribe. He had hoped he would never again see
that frightened, bewildered expression again. But there it was, just the
same.
Oh gods, had she discovered spies in the Palace itself?
"Makoto, thank God!" Nanami wailed. For a moment he thought she would
surely vault the couch between them, but she raced around it instead.
Nearly bowling him over, she clutched desperately at his shirt while looking
up at him with liquid eyes. "You've got to help us!"
"Nanami, w-what's happened?" Makoto asked, trying to keep the panic out of
his own voice.
"They've taken him! They've taken Shevlin!"
"What? Who's taken him?" Did Nanami even know?
"The Palace guard! They took him while I was out buying herbs! Jilyn saw
the whole thing! I ran the whole way here, but nobody knows anything!"
Makoto's mind reeled. This makes no sense!
"Aren't they just interviewing him again? He was one of Galus' top--"
"It wasn't just intelligence officers!" Nanami shouted, giving him a good
shake. "It was a whole squad of armed guards, Makoto! They wouldn't do
that just to bring someone in for voluntary questioning!"
She was right about that. He gently took hold of her shoulders, trying to
calm her. "Nan, this is probably all a mistake. Things have been crazy
around here. Maybe somebody hadn't been informed that Shevlin had already
volunteered for questioning, and was afraid he would skip town."
"But why won't anyone talk to me?" Nanami implored him. "They almost
wouldn't let me into your room!"
That was disturbing indeed. Nanami had much the same status Makoto did here
in the Palace; she could go almost anywhere she liked. "We should find
Londs. He's coordinating security operations here at the Palace -- if
anybody can fix this mess it's him. Let's go right now, okay?"
Nanami sniffed and nodded, giving a soft, muffled sound of agreement. Ura
sat silently watching them from atop the couch back with a look of mild
concern. No doubt the cat-armor had been snuggled up against Makoto's
friend as she waited for him, sensing her distress. In a flash of
inspiration, seeing the orange-maned cat gave him an idea.
"Ura!" Makoto yelled, patting his shoulder. Leaping from the back of the
sofa, the big cat wrapped herself securely around his torso, covering him
like corset armor. He chuckled in response to Nanami's puzzled stare.
"Makes me look like I'm on official business. It'll grease the wheels of
Palace security." He put an arm about Nanami's shoulder and steered her to
the door. "Just try to stay quiet and let me do the talking, all right?
I've become a pro at seeing people whose doormen think they're too busy."
After calling in more than a few favors, Makoto learned Londs was working
from an office next to the detention block. That fact in itself troubled
him. As Makoto and Nanami briskly retraced their steps along the
insufferably long palace corridors, they heard the low thrumming of the
transport flyers' engines. Through the high arched openings that lined the
curved corridor, Makoto saw two lines of the armored behemoths ascending
into the sky. "What's with all the boats leaving?" Nanami asked without
glancing up.
Makoto knew full well he was not to speak of the expedition to anyone
outside the Council. Damn them anyway! They owe Nanami at least as much as
they owe me, he thought. She has a right to know.
"It's a punitive expedition heading for Cerulea."
Nanami stopped as though she had hit a wall. "W-what?" was all she could
manage as she blinked at him, utterly stupefied. "Makoto, do you know
something I don't?"
Makoto knew he had neither time nor breath enough to go into details, never
mind telling Nanami how he really felt. "We found evidence suggesting the
Phantom Tribe in Cerulea was responsible for the attack," he said, unable to
meet her eyes.
"Oh, no," Nanami breathed. "Dear God. We thought that was just some stupid
rumor!"
With that she was off again, sprinting down the corridor. Having not eaten
for some time and still feeling the effects of his sleeplessness, Makoto was
hard pressed to keep up.
The underground block was cramped, ill lit and musty smelling, reminding
Makoto of something right out of a low-budget horror flick. He and Nanami
had to pass two checkpoints before being ushered into a small, low-ceilinged
antechamber to wait.
Makoto looked over at Nanami now and again, noting each time her panic was
slowly but surely being replaced with seething anger. She sat there fuming,
arms crossed, staring at the wooden door. He wondered whether its iron
hinges might begin to melt if she stared at the door long enough. Time
seemed to drag on endlessly while the desk sergeant paid them little notice.
After what certainly seemed longer than a few minutes, the door opened to
admit a guard officer hurrying off as if carrying out new orders. The desk
sergeant disinterestedly waved them in before returning to his paperwork.
Londs' office was even smaller than the antechamber. A single window slit
high up on one bare stone wall shed little light, but a ceiling glowlamp
provided enough to read by. Londs' heavily lined face looked weary and sad,
to Makoto becoming more so seeing them enter.
"I knew at length you would seek me out," he said, sighing heavily while
gesturing for them to sit. Ura slid out from around Makoto's middle,
perching on one corner of the heavy wooden desk. "Close the door behind
you."
Makoto hadn't even slid the latch bolt closed before Nanami came undone.
"What the hell is the meaning of this?" she screamed, slamming both hands
down hard on the desk and sending Ura scurrying. "My husband was hauled off
in chains by a whole squad of armed guards this morning! WHY?!"
So much for letting me do the talking, Makoto thought glumly. But Londs
acted as though he had been expecting this, not so much as raising an
eyebrow during her outburst. In fact, the old man looked somewhat relieved.
"Your husband is being held here in the palace under protective custody, as
are the other former operatives of the Tribe's intelligence network," he
said while Ura cautiously returned to her perch.
"'Protective custody?' What the hell does that mean? Is he under arrest or
isn't he?!"
"No, he is not. But he is not free to leave the Palace either." Londs'
voice went flat, as though repeating some official slogan he had long since
wearied of. "Merely for his own safety, of course."
"His own safety?" Nanami asked only slightly less loudly. "And just who,
pray tell, are you protecting him *from*?"
"From vigilantes who might commit violence against Tribesmen."
Nanami reacted as though she had been slapped. "D-did something happen?"
Londs appeared ready to recite another distasteful official policy but
sighed instead. "No, nothing has happened, at least not yet," he said,
shaking his head. "Nevertheless my superiors believed violence against
Tribesmen was likely given recent revelations. Thus I was ordered to detain
all their former operatives, including Shevlin."
"Ordered by whom?"
Makoto felt his heart sink, trying but failing to find fault with his own
hypothesis. "Nanami--"
"Who gave the order, Londs? Tell me!"
"The Champion requested it, and the Queen approved."
Nanami's words failed her as she stared dumbfounded at the old man. Makoto
protested, more to refute his own conclusions rather than Londs'
presentation of the facts. "No, there must be some mistake."
The man met Makoto's gaze, the sadness clear in his weary eyes. "I was in
the Sovereignty Council meeting when Lady Ifurita requested this action," he
said before pausing to rub his temples. Makoto had never before seen him
look so tired or so aged. He felt badly for his old friend, dealing with
bad business such as this in the eve of his long and distinguished service
to the Crown.
Londs looked back up at the two of them. "Of course Her Majesty and I
questioned the proposal, but the Champion was adamant. She eventually
relented."
"I don't get it," Makoto said. "If you're trying to prevent violence
against Tribesmen, having them marched into detention under armed guard is
the last thing Floristicans need to see."
"It's got nothing to do with protection."
Both Londs and Makoto looked at Nanami. Her tone had softened but could not
hide her overwhelming bitterness. The wild anger in her face had settled
down to a cold fury.
"You just don't trust them, do you? Even after they turned themselves in,
spilled their guts and turned their backs on everything they knew, you still
don't trust them," she ranted, waving her hands in the air wildly. "My God,
Londs -- they've been living here over twenty years! They're more
Roshtarian than most Roshtarians!"
"Many of them have been among us secretly for a good deal longer than that,
Nanami," Londs deadpanned.
Both Nanami and Makoto stared incredulously at Londs, shocked to hear him
say such a thing.
"Londs, that's not fair," Makoto said at last, breaking the uncomfortable
silence. "You've been as supportive of the defectors as anyone. I can't
believe I'm hearing this from you."
To which Londs merely smiled wanly. "Precisely what I told the Champion
when she said to me what I have just said to you."
"And what was her answer?" Nanami asked.
"That it was for their own protection."
"That's what I thought," she said, standing again. Ura once again dove for
cover as Nanami banged both fists hard on the desk, this time upsetting the
inkwell. "I demand to see my husband, Londs! NOW!!"
Londs' face took on a frown of obstinate officialdom as he glowered a moment
at the little river of ink trickling over his ruined papers. "That is
simply not possible at this time, Nanami," he replied, looking back up at
her as she panted angrily. "I have strict orders that nobody is to see them
for at least a week." Abruptly a touch of irony entered his voice. "So
that nobody knows where they are detained, as if there were anyone left who
does not."
He stood and approached Makoto and Nanami while pulling at the front of his
tunic. Towering over them both, Londs placed his hands comfortingly on
Nanami's shoulders. "My lady, you have my word of honor that neither
Shevlin nor the other Tribesmen in my custody have been harmed. I shall see
to it that they are well treated. After a week, I shall arrange for you to
see him whenever you wish."
"Damn it all, I just want to see him for a minute!" Nanami begged as she
groped desperately at Londs' cloak. "Okay, I take your word that he's all
right, but he's probably worried about how I'm holding up. Just for a
minute, Londs. Please?"
The old man shook his head. "I'm sorry, Nanami. However, I shall
personally go see him straight away. I will tell him you were here and
reassure him you are well." Londs held out his hands and shrugged. "That
is the best I can do."
Nanami let go of Londs' cloak and straightened up. "Fine. Since there's
obviously no point arguing with you, I'll be back in a week."
"Before you take your leave, there is one more thing we should discuss."
Makoto felt suddenly uneasy as Nanami glared at Londs with daggers in her
eyes. "Given the situation, we are suggesting the adopted families of
Tribesmen also voluntarily submit to protective confinement. Perhaps you
might stay with Lord Mizuhara until--"
"Damn you, Londs! Damn you to hell!" Nanami shrieked before stomping
towards the door.
"Wait, Nan!" Makoto pleaded, moving to intercept her.
Nanami turned on him, allowing Makoto to see the anger flaring behind her
misting eyes. She jabbed her finger accusingly into his face as tears began
to trickle down her cheeks.
"I'm not even going to bother asking whether *you* knew anything about this,
Makoto. As usual you are utterly oblivious to everything going on around
you. Go stick your head back in the sand!"
She yanked the heavy door open with force that belied her slight frame.
Makoto winced as the iron bindings clanged loudly against the doorstop,
echoing throughout the detention block.
Makoto only managed to take half a step toward the door before Londs called
his name. "Londs, I--"
The old man shook his head. "You know well as I your good intentions would
be for naught." Once again Londs motioned toward the wooden chairs in front
of his desk. "Come sit down, my friend. We needs must talk."
Reluctantly, Makoto did as he was asked. "Londs, just when did Ifurita
suggest this? And what is this Sovereignty Council anyway? I've never
heard of it."
"It is something that does not exist, well, at least not officially. It
consists of the King and Queen, the Champion, the Commandant of the Navy,
the Grand Marshall of the Army and me. It was actually formed years ago,
but this is the first time we have done more than discuss possible threats
to the Alliance."
"I notice Justen is not on your list."
"The Prince knows nothing about it," Londs' replied, narrowing his eyes.
"And neither do you."
Makoto nodded. He deduced from the list of names alone this Sovereignty
Council's sole charter was to uphold the sovereignty of the Roshtarian
crown. But such only served to confound him more. "I was merely wondering
whether the Sovereignty Council had anything to do with Justen's proposal
for the expedition."
"No. We were all just as surprised as everyone else. Everyone, I'd wager,
except Ifurita and al-Farsi," he said, crossing his arms disgustedly as he
reclined in his chair.
Makoto's eyes went wide. "How do you figure?"
"Process of elimination, really. It is my business to know what goes on in
the Palace, so I know exactly whom Justen has been seeing of late. I also
know who has been speaking in the strongest terms about retaliation for the
attack. I find it difficult to believe you did not already suspect them
yourself."
Makoto shrugged. "I did. But I still can't comprehend why."
"Al-Farsi is the easy one. He has friends in the military, was instrumental
in forming the Mountain Legion, and has always been a hard-liner on the
treatment of former enemies," Londs said, counting on his fingers. "His
home province also stands to gain economically if from the geynosanium mines
should Cerulea become a formal member of the Alliance. Either of those
alone would be reason enough for him to support a military solution. As for
Ifurita..." Londs' voice drifted off as shrugged.
"She seems driven by... well, personal reasons. Actually, Makoto, I was
hoping you might enlighten me."
Makoto was uncomfortable talking about this. But Londs had told him far
more than he had a right to know. He owed his old friend the truth.
"She was devastated by the deaths of Lord Fujisawa and Lady Miz," he said
quietly, more to the floor than to anyone else. "Their daughter is our
goddaughter, you know. I don't think even I realized how much they meant to
her. She seemed lost without them." Makoto looked up into the old man's
eyes. "But when we found out about the connection with Cerulea, she
suddenly became focused again. I've hardly seen her in the past week,
Londs." Makoto stood up, twiddling nervously at his mustache. "She hasn't
been home to sleep for days. She can do that when she needs to. I think I
can understand why she's eager for payback, but this business with Shevlin
is so senseless!"
"You think her concern for his safety is not justified?"
Makoto considered the man's question for a moment and then shook his head.
"No, Nanami's right; this has nothing to do with protection. If it did, she
would have at least spoken with Nanami and Shevlin herself. They wouldn't
have liked it, but at least they might have understood. She must see
Shevlin as a threat to what she's doing." He leaned up against the wall,
puffing his cheeks as he blew out his breath. "Shev's Phantom Tribe.
That's all Ifurita seems to need."
"I could not help but notice the Champion's timing," Londs said. "She made
certain by the time you found out about this, she had already disembarked
for Cerulea."
"Yeah." Londs' astute observation only served to confirm what he already
suspected. Ifurita had been avoiding him, perhaps even intending to leave
before Makoto had chance to talk with her at all. "I did see her briefly,"
he said in a small voice, feeling ashamed. "We didn't get much chance to
talk."
"I don't think it is just you she is evading, my friend," Londs said
comfortingly. "The Champion has been virtually unapproachable of late by
anyone save for the Royal Family and Minister al-Farsi. She has immersed
herself in the details of the operation and its preparations. Consciously
or unconsciously, I believe what she is really avoiding is an opportunity
for anyone to question her actions."
It sounded to Makoto like the old man had figured this out long ago. He
stood up abruptly, his jaw set with determination. "Thank you for
everything, Londs. I should be going now." Ura leapt up from the floor,
wrapping herself around him as he turned toward the door.
"I hope you are not entertaining thoughts of going to Cerulea, young man.
The arrow has been loosed; there is no stopping it now."
"I know. But there may be something I can do here," Makoto said from the
doorway. "I'll be at the amphitheater helping Traugot with the analyses."
He did not bother to turn around before pulling the heavy door shut behind
him.
Nanami is right, Makoto thought as he and Ura made a beeline back to his
rooms. I have had my head in the sand until now.
But not any more.
An old song lyric came to him along with an idea, and a smile slowly came to
his face. He felt a lightness he hadn't felt in days as he left the dreary
dungeon. Without even realizing it, Makoto began humming along with the
tune in his head.
"I get by with a little help from my friends."
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