No Longer Alone
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Pulling out the rumpled sheets of paper, Franz sighed. The battle had been a rough one, and most of the letter General Seth had sent him now looked a right mess. Well, it couldn't be helped. Smoothing out the sheets as best he could, he settled back on the wooden chair and began to read.
Franz,
I am pleased at the good news to bring me – both that you are unharmed, and that the Frelian army, led my King Ephraim. As for the contingent traveling under the Lady Eirika, we have met battle once, against several mercenaries in Port Kiris. However, the battle was not a major one, and we survived with only a single casualty.
The sea route has been denied us due to several issues – chief among them that the superstitious townsfolk have reported sightings of a ghostly ship on the waters surrounding the continent. This is an inconvenience, but a relatively minor one. The Lady Eirika has decided that we are to follow the land route to Rausten, which would take us in the same path with the prince Innes. Perhaps, if we are fortunate, we may be able to meet up with him.
Franz frowned. The letter had arrived along with the news that Carcino was in a revolt, with pro-Grado elements being the chief insurgents. If the latter had traveled along with the news, the revolt certainly had to be known to the General. Yet he hadn't made any mention of it, or the possibility of Innes being in danger. After all, the Frelian prince had been passing through Carcino to reach Jehenna.
"Odd." He murmured to himself as he continued reading.
Progress remains relatively unimpeded, and we hope to achieve our goals shortly.
That aside, Franz, there is a rather more serious matter that I wish to address.
In your letter, you detailed the circumstances surrounding your meeting up with a Grad deserter. Granted that I have not met her and that I am unaware of her personality and temperament beyond what you have detailed in your letter, I cannot but remain wary of you trusting her so easily.
I know you have a trusting, compassionate nature, and it is something that I believe is a positive trait in most situations. However, in times of war, the hardening of the heart is sometimes necessary. I will trust your judgment in this matter, especially as I cannot observe her for myself, but I must urge you to exercise caution when dealing with
"What'cha reading?" Amelia mumbled sleepily from her position on her bed.
"Hm? Oh, you're awake." Franz turned to smile at her, folding the letter in half as he did so. "This is the letter from General Seth that I got earlier." Putting the letter away, he stood and walked over. "Feel better?"
"Mmm." She yawned and set up, stretching her arms as she did so. "My chest still hurts a bit, but it's no big deal."
"Heh." Franz grinned. "Natasha wanted me to tell you that your injuries won't anything major, so if you want to go and soak in the sights, feel free."
She tilted her head slightly. "You mean you waited in here just to tell me that?"
He chuckled. "No, not really. I had some stuff to do myself. But I'm off duty now, so…" Before he could continue, there was a knock on the door.
"Franz?" Forde poked his head in. "Thought I'd find you here. Hey, Amelia." She barely had time to nod in reply before the knight returned his attention to his younger brother.
"Lord Ephraim's looking for you and Kyle. Since I've found you, you might as well head to the gates – that's where he's waiting."
"All right." Forde nodded, and he was gone.
Franz smiled apologetically. "Sorry, Amelia. It looks like I can't come along with you. Maybe later."
She shook her head, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Don't worry about it."
"Okay, then." Franz headed for the exit. "I'll see you later."
The scent of the sea was something Amelia hadn't had time to notice earlier – but it was certainly something she noticed now – it hit her with a force that was almost physical as she stepped out from the darkened (and frankly quite stuffy) interior of the town's inn.
Most of the inhabitants had been closeted into their respective homes on orders of General Duessel in anticipation of a battle involving him and Ephraim. While such a battle had certainly occurred, it had done so in a manner that neither of the two would have imagined.
"Well, all's well that ends well." She said to herself. The battle was over now, and the town had shifted rather quickly back to its relatively normal functions. The fact that the majority of the interested parties had no desire to harm civilians was definitely a good thing.
She hadn't had much of a goal in mind when she had ventured out into the town, and after reaching the town square she decided that slumping down onto one of the benches and watching the proceedings of daily life was as good a pastime as any to occupy herself with. She knew Bethroen was considered one of the busier port towns, and it was in sharp contrast to her sleepy home of Silva.
And while Serafew was usually earmarked as a busy town, everything had seemed strangely quiet and subdued when she had arrived there. She was now prepared to think that it was on account of the Grad rulers being… well, lousy rulers, but she still didn't like dwelling on negative thoughts involving Grad soldiers.
"…" She sighed. Earlier, she had fought against Grad soldiers. Okay, the majority of the fighting hadn't much been like what she'd expected, but it had been a fight, all the same. At first she hadn't had the time to ponder it, but now that she did…
"I knew this was going to happen." She murmured to herself as she hung her head. "The instant that I decided to join Franz. I just… have to keep at it."
It was nearing dusk, and the setting sun splashed fiery hues over the townscape as Amelia sat there in silence, relaxing.
She was on the verge of closing her eyes when she caught sight of a detachment of Frelian soldiers exiting a pub, obviously in high spirits. She had never studied the finer details of wartime strategy and the importance of troop morale, but it didn't take much of a leap in logic to deduce that having conquered a supposedly 'invincible' fortress on their first major battle and having successfully neutralized a Grad General on their second was going to result in a rather positive effect on morale.
Just then, she caught sight of Prince Ephraim, out of his combat gear and striding purposefully towards the tiny group of slightly tipsy soldiers.
"Recruit Hinell!" He snapped in an authoritative tone. "Is Recruit Hinell present?"
"Yes sir!" One of the soldiers saluted. "What do you need me for, Lord Ephraim?"
Ephraim stood in front of the – now noticeably quieter and less rowdy – group, arms folded. "Yes, I have need of you to answer a simple question. Recent reports have reached me that details you treating one of the captured Grad prisoners with an inappropriate degree of harshness. Is that correct?"
The soldier blanched. "Well, I wouldn't rightly say-"
"Yes or no will do fine, soldier."
Having engaged in conversation with the Prince before, Amelia recognized his sharp, terse way of communicating, but it apparently caught Recruit Hinell of guard, for he blinked and almost looked as if he were going to lurch away.
"I'm waiting, Recruit."
"Well, Prince Ephraim, sir, he was giving me lip, and wasn't treating me with respect, like he had been the winner in the battle or somesuch-"
He was interrupted as Prince Ephraim stepped forward smoothly, both arms reaching up to grab hold of the unfortunate soldier's tunic. As the tough material bunched up under the Prince's fists, Ephraim lifted the stunned soldier clear off the ground.
Before Recruit Hinell could begin to struggle or offer any sort of resistance, the Renaitian ruler had swung his hands out in a gesture that was a mix between a push and a throw. The soldier impacted – rather loudly – with the cobbled pavement of the town square and as he lay there trying to recover some of the wind that had been knocked out of him, the Prince spoke again in a clear voice.
"Our war is not against Grado – nor its soldiers. Our war is against the Emperor, and whatever madness drives him. If we must fight Grad soldiers to achieve our aim, then so be it – I will not be deterred. But otherwise, we are not to give anyone any cause for further resentment among the populace and military of Grado. Do I make myself clear?"
In between pained wheezes, Recruit Hinell managed a nod.
"Good. Your pay for this week will be docked by half – and believe you me, the next time tales of such excesses reach my years again, you'll be begging for a simple cut in your pay by the time I'm through with you. Now, as you were."
The soldier scrambled to his feet and hurriedly staggered back to the tavern he had just come from – apparently his encounter with the Renaitian Prince had shaken his nerves badly. The remaining Frelian soldiers quickly and quietly dispersed, each to their individual tasks – wary not to provoke anymore of the Prince's ire.
Ephraim sighed as the last of the soldiers vanished, and let his gaze sweep over the town square, only to stop when his sight came to rest on Amelia. After a moment's consideration, he began heading in her direction, and subconsciously, she began to scoot over on the bench to give him room to sit.
"Amelia." Ephraim smiled as he neared her. "Are you feeling better?"
"Ah – I'm just – just fine, Lord Ephraim. Thank you for asking." She blurted out, trying desperately not to trip over her words as she did so.
"Not at all." Ephraim shrugged. "You're a part of the army, and as the army's leader I have to ensure the wellbeing and comfort of my soldiers." He paused, recalling the scene from several moments ago. "Extenuating circumstances aside."
While Amelia wasn't too sure on the exact definition of 'extenuating', she felt she could guess what he was referring to, and she frowned. "That was… well, it was rather harsh, your majesty."
"Please don't call me 'your majesty'," Ephraim mumbled as he folded his arms. "I hear that and I start thinking about my father." He paused. "Anyway, you were saying?"
"Y- yes, well, I just thought you treated the soldier a bit harshly. I mean, I'm from Grado, and it didn't really seem like that big a deal."
"It's called deterrence, recruit. Was I a bit over the top? Perhaps. But that ensures that next time soldiers will think twice before pulling such a stunt again. Besides, splitting an enemy soldier's lip isn't acceptable behaviour in the least." He shrugged.
"Oh. Well, I guess when you put it that way…"
"Mm." Ephraim murmured. Then he glanced up. "So, is Franz coming soon, or…?"
She blinked. "What? I… he isn't with me."
Ephraim raised an eyebrow. "He's not?"
"No! I mean," she flushed as the implications of what Prince Ephraim was saying became clear. "It's not like we're joined at the waist or something!"
Ephraim sighed. "I suppose."
Now it was Amelia's turn to raise an eyebrow. "Actually, I was told from Forde that you wanted to meet Franz at the gates."
"Huh. Odd, I don't recall ever having issued any order of that sort." The Renaitian prince sighed. "Perhaps I should go sort this out. Fare you well, recruit."
"A – and you too, you maje – Master Ephraim!" She called after him.
"It's been half an hour, Forde. Are you sure Lord Ephraim is coming?"
"He told me to meet us here, and so here we are, okay? Stop fussing, Kyle!" Forde shot back.
Franz sighed to himself as he watched the two knights bicker. He wasn't entirely sure if Prince Ephraim's failure to show up was the result of a mistake on Forde or the Prince's part, but he was pretty sure that he didn't care much.
Just as he was about to stand up in order to work some life back into his legs, he saw the Prince rapidly approaching. Standing up, he quickly saluted. "Lord Ephraim."
Ephraim was barely within earshot when he started speaking. "Right, apparently there's been a bit of a mess up somewhere if you all think that I'm supposed to be meeting up with the lot of you. What I want to know is how this mistaken impression came about."
Both Franz and Kyle shifted their rather accusing gazes to Forde, who shrugged. "I was told that you wanted me to report here by Sir Garcia's kid."
"You mean Ross?" Ephraim rubbed his temples wearily. "I don't think I've ever directly addressed him in my life. Alright, look, there's no meeting scheduled or anything – I'm sorry for so much of your time having been wasted, you're free to go get your dinners or your drinks or whatever it is suits your fancy."
The three knights saluted the ruler of Renais once, and then dispersed.
"Hm… still pretty light." Franz smiled to himself he glanced up the evening sky. "Going to grab a nice meal at the tavern is starting to sound better and better." Then he halted in midstep. Maybe I should try to find Amelia and ask her if she wants to join me.
"Where would she be, anyway?" He mumbled to himself. Subconsciously, he reached into his pack, drawing out his skin of water. Taking a long gulp from the contents, he replaced the cork on the pouch and was about to put it away when he heard a gentle female voice calling his name.
He turned. "Natasha? What is it?"
She smiled as she walked up to him. "No, nothing much. I just wanted to see if you were doing alright."
"Well, yes, I'm perfectly fine." Franz smiled. "A couple of close calls in battle notwithstanding."
"Yes, thanks. By the way, how is Dame Amelia?"
"Hm? Oh, she was fine when I saw her last."
"Oh, you mean you are not with her right now?"
"Well, no…" Franz paused. "Is there any particular reason I should be?"
"N- no, it's just…" Natasha chuckled lightly. "You have been spending the majority of time with her these past few days. I just assumed it natural that you would be here. Sorry."
Franz laughed as well as he tucked his water pouch back into his satchel. "I suppose you're right. I don't know – I like spending time with her. Although I'm not sure if she feels the same way."
"If you're as kind and courteous with her as you are with me, I'm sure she has no objections." Natasha replied, a slightly mischievous smile on her face.
"Thanks for the vote of confidence."
"By the way, Franz…"
"Yes?"
"That satchel you have there… it's not standard issue, is it? I haven't seen any of the other knights carrying one."
"Oh, this old thing?" He smiled as he ran his hand over the rough and worn material of his pack. "Actually, I made it. By myself, and all."
"Really?" He couldn't tell if Natasha looked impressed or bemused.
"Yeah. See, this pouch here holds the water bottle, this one here stores some emergency rations, that one carries herbs with curative properties, these are for various materials like rope and torches. Also, I've modified the straps so it won't shake about while I'm riding."
"Well, that's quite impressive. You're certainly good with your hands."
"Eh." Franz quirked a smile. "Thanks. There's really… not much else that I'm particularly good at." He paused. "Would you like one? It'd be pretty handy, I think, to carry all your healing salves and potions and whatnot."
"Well, that'd certainly be wonderful, but… wouldn't it take up too much of your time?"
"Well, I'm not saying I could get it done by tomorrow." Franz shrugged. "The work might be a bit slow, but, yeah, it's no real trouble at all."
"Well, if that's the case, then I'd be happy to accept." Natasha smiled gratefully, before a look of slight alarm appeared in her eyes. "Ah! The time! I've got to go check on the people in the infirmary!" She began to head off. "Goodbye, Franz!"
"Goodbye!" He called after her.
He sighed as he heard his stomach give a slight growl of protest. "Now I really want a nice, hot stew." He mumbled to himself.
Partially obscured by the growing darkness, Amelia had stood there, watching silently as Franz had started talking with Natasha. At first she'd thought about going up and joining in the conversation, but, well, she hadn't wanted to seem like she was rude or anything. Besides, the two of them had appeared to be enjoying their conversation.
Now that Natasha had left, Amelia once more thought about going up to say hello to Franz – maybe they could go get dinner together or some such…
Once more she stopped herself, for reasons she didn't entirely understand. The short conversation she had had with Prince Ephraim floated up in her mind, causing her to stand back.
"Maybe I have been spending too much time with Franz lately." She mumbled to herself. "Sure, he's really nice to me and all… but I don't want to feel like I'm dragging him down." She paused, nodded to herself. "Right. I guess I can leave him be for tonight."
She turned around and gave a little squeak of surprise. "Ge – general Duessel!" She sputtered. For the Obsidian was standing right there, arms folded, a look of bemusement on his face.
"And what might you be doing, lass?" He questioned.
"N – nothing." She stammered guility. "I was just… uh, thinking about where to go for my dinner tonight."
"That's all, hm?" Duessel stroked his beard thoughtfully. "I suppose I can't fault the soldiers for not being fond of the rations that get doled out to them." He paused. "As it so happens, I'm heading for one of the local eateries myself. Would you care to join me?"
"Huh?" She blinked. "Are you – but I can't! I mean, I'm just a recruit, and you're the Obsidian! I even deserted from Grado's Army." She finished lamely.
"You're a deserter, eh? Well, that explains things." Even though there was no trace of accusation in the Obsidian's voice, Amelia still had to hang her head.
"Well, as it so happens, this old fool here has been branded a deserter and traitor to the crown as well." Amelia's eyes widened and she gazed up in shock. To think that the legendary Duessel could ever... Suddenly, Amelia realized just how old and weary the mighty warrior truly was.
"My offer for dinner still stands." Duessel said. "If you want, think of it as two refuges who have nowhere else to go sharing their experiences and a meal."
"Alright, General Duessel." She said softly. "If it's not a bother, then I'll be glad to accept."
The sun had long since set by the time Amelia started back towards the inn. The Obsidian had had matters to discuss, particularly with Prince Ephraim, and so he had departed for the acting command centre where the Prince most likely was.
As she walked, she silently pondered the extent of the Obsidian's plight. They were now both branded deserters from Grado, but she hadn't for a second fooled herself into thinking that their situations were in the slightest iota comparable. She had chosen to leave the Grad army of her own volition, and in practical terms, she hadn't lost much, while simultaneously gaining several friends in the Frelian army.
General Duessel however, had (based on his own recounting of the events over dinner) been suddenly branded an oathbreaker by Selena Fluorspar, herself a general of Grado. After having been forced into a battle for his own life (a battle he would have almost certainly lost eventually), he was now part of the Frelian army, his years of loyalty and service to the Grado crown completely negated.
She shivered. She couldn't begin to imagine what it must be life to have one's entire life's work pulled out from under you, and she sincerely hoped she would never find out.
As she pushed open the door to the inn, she caught sight of Franz sitting hunched over a table. By the light of several scattered candles, she could see whatever he was holding in his hand glinting slightly. With a frown, she stepped closer. Was he… sewing?
"Franz?" She said softly, not wanted to startle him.
"Amelia?" He turned in his seat, a gentle smile on his face. "I was beginning to wonder when you'd get back."
"Franz, what are you doing?" She said as she gazed down at several strips of rough material.
"Hm? Oh, this? I'm making a satchel for Natasha."
Silently, Amelia noted that he hadn't bothered to call the cleric by her title of 'Sister'. Out loud, she said, "Satchel?"
"Yeah, she noticed the pack I always carry with me, and I offered to make one for her." He said as he turned back to his work. "How was Bethroen? Did you get your dinner?"
It must have been when those two were talking earlier. "Bethroen is fine. And yes, I had my dinner already."
"That's good, then." Franz glanced up. "You really should be going to bed soon, too. I know the injury isn't serious, but you need to rest up and get fully healed faster."
She nodded and stood, heading towards her room. As she climbed up the rather rickety wooden stairs, she couldn't shake off a strange tightening in her chest that she knew had nothing to do with the injury she had received earlier today.
The next morning, Franz suppressed a yawn as he stood at the port, staring out at the ships arrayed before him. Close by, General Duessel and Prince Ephraim were conversing.
"So basically, they were unwilling to take to sea because of rumours of a supposed ghost ship going around these waters, so we decided in the interests of expediency to just buy the boats from them."
"A rather large expense." Ephraim sighed as he ran a gloved hand over his face.
"Yes, but it's the fastest way to Taizel. From there we can strike out for the Imperial Palace proper."
"I suppose it can't be helped." Ephraim mumbled. "All right, get those ships boarded. I want us to be well on our way before the sun grows hot."
"Franz!"
He turned around to see Amelia coming up to him, her belongings already stuffed into her pack beside her.
"Amelia." He smiled back in return. "Had a good night's rest?"
"Uh-huh." She nodded. "We're heading off already, then?"
"We really don't have much time. This sea voyage could take a couple of weeks, after all." Franz shrugged. "So, yes, we'll be leaving shortly. According to the lists, we've both been assigned to the same ship that Prince Ephraim is on."
"General Duessel too." She said softly. "He told me about that yesterday night."
"Oh, you met him? Anyway, I don't think there should be much cause for concern – Grado's not known for its navy, so it's unlikely we'll be meeting them in battle on the seas."
She didn't say anything, merely nodded. Franz's smile turned quizzical.
"Amelia, are you all right? You just seem a little… quieter this morning."
"Nah, it's just… I've got a lot on my mind." She offered him a thumbs up. "Just give me some time to think about it and I'll be fine."
"If you say so." He sensed a bit more behind it, but pushing the matter probably wasn't going to help anyone. He dropped it.
"All right, everybody!" He heard the Prince below. "All aboard!"
"Shall we, Dame Amelia?" He asked, indicating the ship.
"We shall, Sir Knight." She replied gamely.
Together, both of them strode up the ramp onto the ship.
Chapter End.
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