CHAPTER 6:

A KNIGHT TO REMEMBER

Three years after Harry and Guts joined the Band of the Hawk

Harry sighed as he watched Casca chew Guts out for what he did during their assault on the Black Ram Knights of Chuder. Three years hadn't reduced the antagonism between them, at least not much. He'd grown to like the hulking swordsman, perhaps even be a minor friend, which meant that he often got roped into being peacemaker between the two.

"Oi," he said, cutting across their argument. When they shot glares at him, he said, "Guts, Cas is right. Next time, follow orders, and don't charge off by yourself. You're strong, not invincible. Not to mention you could get others hurt trying to drag you out of trouble." He turned his eyes to Casca. "And Cas…he does care about those under him. He's not a mad dog. Not anymore. Plus, I know Griffith. He probably allowed for Guts doing this."

Casca scowled and turned away. Guts merely looked down at the ground, crossing his arms. Then, Harry said, spreading his arms wide and grinning, "C'mon, group hug!"

"NO!" Casca and Guts yelled simultaneously. The former was because she didn't like being in close proximity to the burly swordsman, and the latter…still had issues about being touched.

Harry laughed. "You two are so uptight! Look, we've hit the big time now. The King of Midland has pretty much hired the Band of the Hawk on an ongoing basis."

"True, but that may increase our enemies, even amongst those who are supposed to be our allies," Casca said, her anger blunted a little for now. "There are rumours that Griffith's renown is causing jealousy and resentment."

"What, because Griffith is getting too big for his britches in their eyes?" Guts scoffed. "Nobles are the same everywhere."

"Not all of them, Guts, but you're right in that many think Griffith is rising unduly above his station," Casca said. "What's more, the rumours of magic being used in the Band of the Hawk are still spreading, and Griffith is doing little to dispel them. If the Holy See takes too much of an interest…"

"We'll burn that bridge when we come to it," Harry said. "Though what was with that Snape-like wanker I saw next to the King? If looks could kill, the King wouldn't need the Band of the Hawk, he'd just send that guy."

"Earl Julius," Casca said. "And don't let anything you say about him be heard by ears loyal to him. He's a very unpleasant individual, the brother of the King, and the leader of the White Dragon Knights. Rumour has it that he's losing favour at court due to the ransom paid to Chuder for his release. He's still very influential, though."

"Which means he's a pain in the arse we have to deal with, one of many," Guts growled quietly, before spitting out, as if it was an expletive, "Politics."

"I hate it too," Casca said, in a tone that said she couldn't believe she was agreeing with Guts. "Unfortunately, we have to deal with it. That means you may have to be around nobles. So, you'll have to be polite, kneel if you have to. I'm not expecting you to like it, Guts, but the less trouble we have with them, the better." A smirk touched her features. "Of course, as we have a wizard with a knack for stealth and a mind for pranks…"

Guts matched her smirk. "Heh. Nice to see that you and I can agree on something. Suck it up publicly, retaliate quietly, is that what you're saying? I can get behind that."

"As long as it doesn't jeopardise things, yes," Casca said. "By the way, Harry, I got some word back about the rumours of other magic users. Supposedly, there's a witch who lives in the forest not far from Enoch. Once things are less hectic, maybe we should go check it out."

"Sadly, it may be some time before you have time to do so," came the familiar tones of Griffith.

Harry leapt into the air, and whirled to find Griffith on the stairs leading up to the walkway they were on. "Fuck, Griffith, stop doing that! How can you be a ninja in full plate armour?!"

"It's a family technique passed down through generations," Griffith said.


Elsewhere in that world, Adon Coborlwitz sneezed. And in another world, the hulking, muscular form of Alexander Louis Armstrong sneezed as well.


"…You're just messing with me, aren't you?" Harry asked. Griffith's smile was the only answer he needed. "How long were you listening in?"

"Long enough. All that I ask is that you be fairly discreet in pranking the nobility."

"As long as I don't have to be subtle…"

"For all I care you could turn Earl Julius' hunting lodge into gingerbread. Casca, Harry, I'd like to speak to Guts alone, please."

Casca sighed quietly, before gesturing for Harry to follow her. As she passed Griffith, she said, "You don't keep him on a tight enough leash, Griffith. Get him to understand that he needs to keep his men alive, first and foremost."

Griffith nodded, and walked up the stairs. Soon, Harry and Casca were emerging from a tower, only to find Corkus standing there, leaning against the wall. "I could hear your little row from here," the ratty soldier said. "He's Griffith's favourite pet. Better get used to it. Of course, if you want him put down, I'm here to help…"

Casca merely stepped on Corkus' foot, causing him to tumble down the stairs. "Oops," she said unrepentantly.

As they walked away from Corkus, Harry muttered to himself, "I know you've got a genuine grievance against Guts, but what's Corkus' beef?"

"He's jealous. Plus, his pride's still bruised that Guts was better than him and his men," Casca said. "As much as I don't like Guts…his skills in battle are without reproach. And you're probably right. Griffith wouldn't draw up his plans without contingencies, especially where Guts is involved. It still frustrates me, how he says sorry so many times, and yet…" She huffed, trying to calm herself. "But you're right. He's not like he was. He just needs to think more during battle, follow orders, not just charge off."

"Oh? I remember what you did when we attacked that Chuder outpost. If I recall, you needed some cracked ribs healed."

Casca scowled. "And YOU ended up with a concussion attacking that guy in a rage. With your own staff, I might add."

They ended up glaring at each other, before the pair snorted, and chuckled. "I think we weren't at our best that day," Harry said. "By the way, what do you think about the rumours that the King will be knighting Griffith?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if the King did. Not because of our achievements in battle. It's a way of ensuring Griffith's loyalty. It'll still annoy the nobles. I'm more concerned about the other rumours Judeau heard about. Chuder's hiring mercenaries as a counter to our efforts. And one of the rumours is very concerning. They say Nosferatu Zodd is one of them."

"…Who names these people?" Harry asked, only for Casca to shoot him an annoyed look.

"Zodd is no laughing matter, Harry. Tales of his exploits have been around for a few centuries now," Casca said. "Some say he is immortal. Others say he is the latest in a long line to take up the name. All who have met him and lived to tell the tale agree that he is not to be trifled with."

"Fuck, that's all I need, another immortal enemy," Harry muttered.

"They're only rumours, Harry. Both about Zodd's immortality and his being hired by Chuder. If we're lucky, we'll go our entire lives without having to deal with him…"


It was later that evening. Harry and Casca were seated together around one of the fires set up around the camp, watching as many of the Hawks, especially the Raiders Guts led, toasted their commander. From enemy to beloved commander, Harry reflected. Guts still wasn't quite used to it.

Harry had been accepted with thankfully less fanfare. But he was thanked every time he managed to get an injury healed. The suggestions he placed for hygiene were implemented, albeit to some resistance from some quarters, but the bouts of illness in the camp went down. The occasions when Harry helped the cooks for meals that didn't require a spit also went down well. Indeed, Harry traded personally cooked breakfasts for favours.

He also began forming bonds with the rest of the Band of the Hawk. To Rickert, he was almost a father figure, teaching the boy maths and English (or at least whatever it was called here). To Pippin, he was a comrade. To Corkus…well, the two tolerated each other at best.

To Judeau, there had been a time when they were gentle rivals for Casca's affections, before Judeau conceded that Harry had won. The knife-fighter and Harry were strong friends, and Harry managed to pick up some knife-throwing tricks. The two sometimes cooperated during certain operations, Harry using a spell to redirect the knives in mid-air to confuse the enemy, or to summon them back to Judeau to reuse.

To Guts, the two were…well, it was hard to call them friends per se, except with a minor friendship. Guts didn't seem to have the knack of making friends. It was more that, as much as Harry despised the Gryffindor-style impulsiveness turned up to eleven and his love of battle, Guts was a straightforward man who despised lying. He appreciated the man's honesty and straightforward nature, even if his lack of tact left something to be desired. And there was something about Guts that felt almost like a kindred spirit.

Griffith…now that was a strange one. The effeminate young man seemed both paradoxically friendly and yet distant. Harry knew by now of Griffith's dream, to rule a kingdom of his own, but he didn't seem like a megalomaniac, more like a naïve child, at least in how he desired the dream, rather than how he would attain it. Griffith seemed to have these odd alternations between a charismatic general, an impish demeanour, and yet something cold and ruthless.

And Casca…ah, now that was something that had grown. In the three years since they finally met in reality, their friendship had grown. It wasn't without its trials and travails, and even now, it couldn't be called perfect by any means. But they had gotten to the point where they had begun to sleep together in bed, albeit in the most literal of senses. Casca wasn't quite ready to take the final step just yet, despite Harry reassuring her about contraception charms. She had, after all, the encounter with the noble who had bought her, to say nothing of her fear that, if the contraception charm failed, she would fall pregnant and thus hamper the Band of the Hawk, something Harry understood. But she promised that one day, they would. Not that it didn't stop Corkus from spreading all sorts of rumours.

Still, they made no secret of their relationship. Indeed, the pair of them sometimes kissed right in front of the other members of the Band of the Hawk, despite the wolfwhistles. Anyone who dared make light of Casca falling for Harry like any maiden soon got disabused of their notions, usually by Casca herself, though repeat offenders often found themselves pranked by Harry.

One of Corkus' cronies (Corkus, showing unprecedented wisdom, actually looked horrified when his crony made the remark, and would later say that he was a fool) had once snarked that Harry must have a thing for boys, given Casca's boyish looks. Said idiot was found tied to a spit the next morning with an apple in his mouth, naked, though fortunately for him, the fire wasn't lit…though given that he was slathered in honey and ants were crawling on him, that was probably a small consolation. Griffith had joined in, with Casca stating that he wasn't exactly fond of such insinuations himself. She had confessed to Harry quietly that Griffith had sold his…services for a time (and not his martial ones, either) to a rather disgusting lord by the name of Gennon in exchange for funds for the Band of the Hawk, shortly after she joined him. Harry was surprised that Griffith would go that far.

In any case, Harry and Casca were now nigh-inseparable. What's more, Harry was now a valued member of the Band of the Hawk, even if he didn't fight in as many battles. It was an ambivalent feeling. While he still felt somewhat out of place in this world, and missed his friends dearly, it was still…nice to have somewhere to belong again…


Not long afterwards, Harry and Casca flanked Guts in the church as the King of Midland knighted Griffith, making him a viscount. Guts had protested coming, naturally, intending to practise instead, until Harry pointed out a few things. Firstly, Harry would gleefully use a Body Bind to freeze Guts and drag him in here. Secondly, Griffith needed a show of solidarity from his men. Thirdly, Harry appealed to Guts' intelligence by pointing out that, if he was here, he could make a note of the various nobles…including those who viewed Griffith with disdain. Know thy enemy. Guts conceded with bad grace, but demanded Harry cook him breakfast the next morning.

Harry made a note of the various players himself. There were the long, tired features of the King, the rather unpleasantly Petunia-like features of the Queen, and the scowling features of Julius. There was the short, oleaginous Minister Foss, and a couple of nobles who supported Griffith, Laban and Owen.

And, of course, there was Princess Charlotte. The Queen was Charlotte's stepmother, having married the King after her predecessor died. She definitely had the look of a classic princess, her beautiful features delicate and gentle. Probably naïve as hell, too.

Still, this ceremony meant that the stakes were getting higher. Things were sure to heat up even more. Harry just didn't know how right he was…

CHAPTER 6 ANNOTATIONS:

So, the post-timeskip Band of the Hawk has been shown. Now, because Harry plays peacekeeper between Casca and Guts, the relationship between those two isn't quite as bad.

Incidentally, I will not apologise for the title of the next chapter: Kneel Before Zodd!

On another note, I recently finished watching the first anime series of Berserk. Hoo boy, what an ending, even if they skip out over how Guts and Casca managed to get out of there.

No numbered annotations this time.