Chapter Twenty-Three: Dogs of War

Tactician of Ylisse: Robin

Cordelia found me pouring over a map of the city at dawn, occasionally scribbling on one of a variety of papers I had littered about the area, defining and redefining my plans. To her credit she didn't react to my frayed appearance, only leaning over my shoulder in an attempt to decipher the unruly scrawl on one of the various maps arrayed before me. Of course, the fact I only noticed her in a peripheral sense might have helped in that regard.

"We're going to have a problem taking off if you station the pegasi there." She tapped a spot, farther into the city, that I had marked as a tentative staging ground for the Pegasus Knights.

"I know." Setting the pen down for a moment, I failed to suppress a sigh. "That's one of the problems I looking to rectify before tomorrow morning." Hopefully sooner. I wanted this plan as airtight as I could make it before the final planning conference in the morning, but specific reports were in short supply and Cynthia, the Pegasus Knight of Morgan's little group, could only spend so many hours in the saddle; despite her insistence she could keep going. I refused the offer, preferring to have the girl in fighting shape when the actual battle began, as according to Cordelia and Sumia the blue haired girl could fly circles around almost any of them.

"We'll be ready." At least some of them believed that. Given everything arrayed against us, I couldn't see many ways this could end in anything less than a devastating pyrrhic victory. Sieges favored the defenders, but magic rewrote the rules of battle.

Slumping into my chair, I chose to ignore our chances of victory. "I've been staring at this map far too long." Given that I couldn't remember going to sleep last night, perhaps it was time for a break. If nothing else, a short respite might clear my head.

Cordelia managed a halfhearted giggle, perhaps a bit of morbid humor. "We know. Everyone is worried about you; you've been holed up in here for hours." I bit down on the urge to ask if they held some kind of contest to decide who got to come bother me.

"Half of my plans went out the window the same instant Morgan walked into the city, and the part that didn't still needs work before I'm willing to risk lives on it. Couple our already in progress efforts, ones that cannot be changed, and the task gets ever more difficult." Sympathy flared in Cordelia's eyes. In the back of my head, I knew this conversation would come, whenever one of the others came looking for me. None the less, I found myself at a loss of how to proceed with it. I didn't want to publically declare how long the odds against us were. Fortunately, Morgan and her compatriots weren't talking. Chrom likewise kept silent, throwing himself into aiding with the preparations.

Cordelia opened her mouth to speak, before closing it again, no doubt quashing some empty platitude. Despite any attempt to keep her ignorant, it would be an insult to her intelligence to assume Cordelia didn't figure out at least part of what was to come. "Take a break, at least for a few minutes." Something in her eyes caught me short in my objection. "Give your head some time to clear. Trust me." Given that Cordelia's reputation said she worked herself to be bone, I conceded she perhaps knew what she was talking about. Reluctantly, I rose from my chair, turning away from the plans and maps.

Cordelia watched me stretch, joints snapping angrily at the sudden motions. Gazing out the rooms only window, I let my thoughts drift, somewhere, anywhere, that wasn't the enormity of the task at hand. "Robin?" I turned my head, motioning to indicate I heard. "Can you…can you help me with…" Her eyes dropped, hands wringing.

"Fell Magic?" I guessed after two uncomfortable minutes of silence. The subject was one the two of us did not broach often, Cordelia seeming uncomfortable, and I didn't feel knowledgeable enough to represent any kind of authority. "I don't know much more than you do, Cordelia. Gri taught me bits, and I can guess at other parts, but..." I couldn't speak for Cordelia but after what happened with Validar, and hearing Grima rant and rave behind my ears, I found myself leery of touching the corruptive magic again.

"But neither of us considered the idea that Gri herself possessed so much power, or had thought about what it meant to be associated with magic like that? I…I've fought Validar before." It took my brain a second to catch up and realize that before referred to when her entire squad got wiped out. "I considered him to be the benchmark for the evils one could do with this." A small whisper, a tiny black flame danced in her hand. "She seemed so different from Validar. More in control. Saner. But when she killed him, it was the same feeling…as if I looked at two different versions of the same person." Cordelia stopped for a moment, seeming to collect her thoughts. "How can one person be that powerful? Validar was the most powerful I could imagine one of them being and she destroyed him. I can barely stand in the same room as Validar, who folded the same way before her." Cordelia managed a weak chuckle. "I knew she was strong, of course, but everyone knows if you learn to fight in other ways, your skill in magic is diminished. That a person can master one, but not the other. Even Gri warned me that my advancement in magic would be slower than Miriel or Ricken for example."

"Very few can." Nothing Cordelia said could be refuted, lining up with my own concerns. "Although that is more due to the fact that the majority of people born with magical talent are frail, or less physically adept than those without, as opposed to any serious conflict between skills. The lucky few such as myself, Gri, you, or Sumia, avoid that problem. All that stands in our way is having the time to master both skills." I moved to the window staring out over the city. Sunrise threw long shadows from the walls, cloaking much of the city in pseudo-night for some time yet. Already, I could see soldiers milling the streets, citizens moving back into the safety of the inner city, as our preparations continued.

"Are we…will…" Armor rattling, Cordelia began to pace. "What does it mean, that we have that kind of magic?"

I took a moment to try and break the question down in my head, and formulate my answer. "Nothing." On that, I felt reasonably confident. Gri herself always insisted the powers we wielded did not define us, our actions when wielding them. "Cordelia, what does my cloak symbolize?" While a leading question, the answer promised to be interesting.

"Cloaks of that pattern are often worn by those of high rank amongst the Grimeal. How one earns them is unknown, but their owners tend to be psychopaths, leading their cult in their assorted depravities." A dry, technical answer, more or less identical to my own findings. "Validar had a far more ornate robe, so I suppose it's possible that they are given to priests and priestesses?" Cordelia's armor rattled, probably a shrug.

"Insofar as I have been able to determine, that is correct." Turning back to her, I took a deep breath, hoping the words would sound genuine. "I have no memories from before the Shepherds. Worshiping Grima, even the idea appalls me. Gri, left them, at half our age. For that matter, Morgan received her cloak as a memento from her Mother. None of us would serve Grima. You, fought Validar himself, no Grimeal would do that. It doesn't matter what powers we have Cordelia, or whose cloak we wear. We chose who we are. No one or nothing else does."

You are a wonderful liar, girl. As always Grima wormed his way in, sibilant whispers brushing at the edges of my consciousness. You will all succumb in the end. You will watch all you love burn. Ignoring him as best I could, I watched myriad emotions flashed across Cordelia's features. Worry, disagreement, loss, and others I couldn't identify in time.

"We're going to have to fight them, aren't we? People like Validar?" Resignation tinged the words. Fear, as well, although she hid that well enough.

"Yes." In this, lying would serve nothing. "I'll admit I'm going to attempt to lean on Morgan and her little group for that." Callous as that plan might be, a single glance at Morgan indicated she possessed more raw power than I did, and her compatriots purported to have fought Grimeal before. Relief shone through before a sympathetic wince took over. Part of that decision, however, centered on the fact that I would not be fighting on the front lines nearly as much during this battle as I had in the past. Coordinating the defenses fell on my shoulders which would be a considerable endeavor, at least initially.

"I see." Cordelia wrestled with herself. "Should we…" She took a steadying breath. "Do you believe we can learn more of Grima's magic? Without turning into monsters?"

Yes. Grima supplied the answer readily, as if any answer he gave would be trusted.

"I don't know." Absently, I started tracing the runes on my cloak. "I don't think I have a choice in the end. If I'm going to fight them, I have to know how they think and fight. And if that means learning at least some of their twisted magic, then that's what I have to do." Privately, I wasn't sure if that was simply the lie I told myself or if I really thought it was going to matter. "While we are on the subject, you had asked me about putting defensive runes into a set of armor like my cloak?"

Cordelia nodded, eyes lighting up at the mention. "I had."

"Come find me tonight, we'll make it happen." A thought hit me, a bit spur of the moment. "Actually, no. Gather the Shepherds, we'll do them for everyone. I can teach you the runes quickly and easily." Cordelia, no doubt, would pick them up faster than I did, saving time and energy for me.

"We can do that?" When I nodded, a radiant smile formed. "And for anyone outside the Shepherds?"

"Morgan's group is unlikely to want them, given their dislike of all things related to Grima. If time didn't matter, I would suggest that everyone in the army have their armor etched, but there is simply not time to do so." Cordelia nodded in reluctant agreement. "Now, I need to finalize these plans. Can you tell Chrom that I have not been swallowed by the maps?"

-FE:DUL-

Shortly after taking a break to eat, I set about the task of gathering everyone who needed to be brought up to speed on what my plans were, a task that took longer than I might have expected. Staring at the sea of faces in the Exalts chambers, I tried to clamp down on the rising anxiety about how everyone would react to my words.

"What news do you have, Lady Robin?" Emmeryn's personal guard, Philia, if I recalled correctly, broke the uneasy silence that formed as the final commanders trickled in. Giving it a few minutes to settle down I gathered everyone's attention.

"Plegia will be upon us by nightfall tomorrow." I expected a riot, making the stone faced acceptance a pleasant surprise. A few leaned over the maps I had laid out, frowning at the diagrams and scribbled notes. "Gangrel appears to have mustered at least seventy-thousand soldiers, along with Grimeal irregulars." That drew incredulous shouts from the less experienced in the room. I could see the older Generals and Captains absorb the figure and begin to size up the odds of victory, and almost simultaneously reach the same conclusions I had. Under Emmeryn the Ylissean army had decreased in size, and, if I was being honest quality. Perhaps twelve thousand professional soldiers in all. We had another twelve to fifteen thousand volunteers who had been in the Army prior to the stand down, and another seven to ten thousand barely trained volunteers. At best we were outnumbered two to one, and a more realistic estimate offered even less favorable odds.

"How do we know those numbers are good?" Someone challenged, lost in the sea of faces. "Last report Philia gave said fifty-thousand at most."

"Our newest arrivals provided the initial number, and having reviewed the reports from our scouts, I concur with their assessment." I nodded in the direction of Morgan, who stood off to the side, her arms hidden beneath her cloak, posture stiff. "More concerning than simple numbers, they do not appear to be bringing equipment to lay siege to the walls." Flicking my wrist, a bit of magic unrolled another map, this one far less marked upon. "Reinforcements from Ferox are at least six days' hard march away, if they set out at once, which I imagine they did not." Emmeryn looked ill. "The last group of scouts has not yet reported back, at this point, I have to conclude they were killed, and we can only estimate the location of the enemy." My fingers pressed against the edge of the map, I exerted the minor effort of will to create many, tiny pinpricks of fire, leaving small black dots in a thin line I traced with my finger. "That places Plegian advance forces here." Someone swore. I kept my reaction muted, hiding a strained

"We aren't ready." My eyes were on the map, so I didn't see who spoke.

Of course we weren't ready. Ylisse valued piece, and their actions as a military reflected that. Thus, an invasion of any sort would be under less than ideal circumstances. "We will be." Waving a hand to dismiss the point, I plowed ahead, not wanting anyone to get caught up in the odds of victory now. "Are there civilians left in the outer ring of the city?"

Captain Argus, a veteran soldier from the previous wars stepped forwards. Appointed commander of the militia forces, Sully and Stahl claimed he'd turned them into something better than cannon fodder, and lacking any other means to see them trained, I'd acquiesced. "The first tier of this City is clear Ma'am. We've begun work on shoring up the gates, and preparing fortifications to hold the main roads if the gates fall." Good initiative too, I planned to give those orders.

"Good. We have to face the fact we cannot hold the outer wall of the city for long. We lack the forces to do so, and a protracted siege suits our interests far better than it does Gangrel's. I suspect they intend to breach our defenses with magic and overwhelm with superior numbers." I took a moment to gauge their reactions before going on. "The presence of the Grimeal reinforces this idea, as small groups of them can wreak havoc amongst our lines from positions of relative safety, as well as provide a steady supply and undead fodder to weaken us."

"So those mages have to go." Chrom his eyes darted to mine. "Right?"

I smiled, feeling no comfort in the uncomfortable shifting amongst the assembled. "Yes. We when fall back, the elimination of Grimeal and other magic users will be the primary task of the Shepherds. The Pegasus knights will assist them as they can." I suspected that assistance would be relatively limited, but the option existed. "Should the inner wall be breached, Morgan," I nodded to the purple haired girl, "and I will be responsible for defending that point until it can be reinforced." While committing both our most powerful mages would be risky, leaving such matters to chance was even more.

For a moment, I swore I saw fangs in the girl's smile. "We should be able to defeat anything some two bit mages cook up." Her own wrist flicked, bits of fire dancing from it, a casual display of magic to reinforce her point. I felt a flash of envy and stamped down upon it.

"Gods willing, we will not need to." I took up again, holding everyone's gaze for several seconds. "This entire plan hinges upon losing the outermost wall on our own terms. Such a thing is inevitable, and it will be vital we control it. We will be stationing our most veteran squads on the outer wall in an attempt to prevent the initial engagement from turning into a rout." Sweeping my gaze over the assembled parties I took a deep breath. "Once the wall in lost we will start reaching into our proverbial bag of tricks by…" I rolled out a second map, this one only of the city itself, and covered in detailed markings. Running a hand over the outer wall I began to lay out the details.

-FE:DUL-

With further planning being a fool's errand, I cornered Morgan hoping the girl could explain just what part of Thoron I seemed to miss. Something about the question prompted a great deal of amusement, before she agreed and we retired to one of the disused courtyards. Halfway into her explanation we were interrupted by shouting.

"Emm, this is insane!" Chrom's voice echoed out into the courtyard stopping Morgan mid-word, small bits of lightning dancing over her fingertips. "You cannot be serious!" I assumed Emmeryn's replied filled the silence, the Exalt seeing no reason to shout. A moment later, she stepped into the courtyard tailed by her brother, evidently unhappy, based on his fierce scowl and stiff posture. "Robin, talk sense into her!"

Appraising the Exalt, I did my best to avoid reacting to her abrupt change in attire. Compact robes, lined with leather if the stitching were any indication replaced her more traditional flowing robes, with multiple hoops at the belt for tomes, and a smaller holster for a staff. Combat robes, something I didn't know the Exalt owned. Or, to be more accurate, I didn't know she knew where to find them. "I wasn't aware you were versed in combat magic, My Lady." Her lips drew thin, a hard expression settling onto her face. Determination, and something else I didn't want to place.

"I wish I did not, but I refuse to stand idle while my people bleed and die." Emmeryn possessed magic. The degree of presence she projected made sure anyone knew that. However, the casual aura of a magic user and the solid unyielding aura of a battlemage stood worlds apart and pressing against the edge of my senses, the Exalt radiated the same surety of Miriel or I might before going into battle. "I have failed them far too many times and I refuse to do so again. I will defend my people Lady Robin."

"Emm, be reasonable!" Chrom cut in before I could fully form a reply.

She rounded on her brother shoulders set, expression hewn from stone. "I am being reasonable Chrom. For years I sat and watched Gangrel slowly pick my people apart. Reason and goodwill have failed; despite being given every chance to succeed. The Mad King chose war, and loathe as I am to shed blood, I will do everything in my power to defend those who cannot defend themselves!" Her fists clenched, fury radiating palpably.

Morgan's laughed, shattering the rising tension of the argument. "You remind me of someone, Your Grace, who once did a very brave and stupid thing and beforehand gave that speech all but word for word. And as I told them, no one will think less of you for not fighting. In your case, everyone knows you abhor violence, a quality that has earned you a near unwavering loyalty and dedication that can be seen outside this castle right now." Hand rising to forestall Emmeryn's reply, Morgan's tone softened a great deal, losing some of the hardness the girl carried. "I have served Valmese nobility my entire life and seem far too many petty conflicts devolve into devastating wars. None of those lords could inspire their people to rally behind them as you do. Not with coin, not with martial force, not with torture, or bribery. Never did the threat of retribution from myself and my companions convince the common people to rise up and fight as a threat against your life has."

"What kind of ruler am I if I ask them to lay down their lives and so not stand beside them and do the same?" Emmeryn shot back as Morgan drew a breath. "Lady Robin, my brother, and you, will be fighting, in my name. How could I in good conscience ask you to put your lives on the line in such a way?"

"Because you aren't asking them too." Cutting each other off ran in the conversation it seemed. "Those soldiers out there know what they are getting into. You didn't ask them to lay down their lives. They damn well volunteered, most of them before we even asked."

"Please Emm, see some sense." Never before had I seen Chrom so distraught. "We can't lose you fighting out there." I shoved away the question of who 'we' was, taking a second to think.

"Perhaps a compromise." In practical terms, Emmeryn outranked me, and nothing I could do would stop her fighting if she wished to do so. "Perhaps you could assist the healers? Even with every able bodied cleric and monk, we are still short of those able to use a staff." Chrom immediately nodded.

Emmeryn seemed to weigh the suggestion for a time, before nodding. "That is acceptable." I would need to adjust a few small things in the later stages of the plan, but nothing drastic. "Thank you Lady Robin." With that, she swept back into the castle, turning down the hall that lead to one of three makeshift armories, created after the main castle armor became all but overrun with people.

"Damnit Robin." Chrom deflated on the spot, a heavy weight falling over his shoulders.

"I'll move Philia's squad to that area, and rearrange the reserve troops somewhat." A less than ideal solution, but I already planned to keep at least a contingent with the healers on the off chance someone on the opposing side knew the massive tactical advantage a well-used Warp staff represented. "If someone wants to get to your sister Chrom, they're going to have to go through me, everything I can throw a them, on top of the entire army. She's far from unprotected." Although mollified, as the Prince left, I couldn't help but think he sulked.

As Chrom left Morgan chuckled softly. "Well handled Lady Robin." I fixed the girl with my most acerbic glare, finding no humor in what transpired. "Sibling disputes are never pleasant, so resolving one without animosity can be an achievement." Despite my best efforts some of my curiosity must have shown through. "Cynthia has an older sister. They rarely fight, but their disagreements tend to be legendary." Her hand crept up to her necklace. "I often resolved them, so I'm quite familiar with the possible results." Wistfulness drifted into Morgan's tone for the first time, although for what I couldn't say.

"I see." I wasn't sure I really did, although that didn't matter overly much.

"Enough of my problems however." She waved a hand. "As I was saying, I think the problem you are having is here." Runes flared up about her arm, and I forced my thoughts only on the inner works one of the more complicated pieces of magic in existence, and away from the awe at how someone obviously younger than me could wield them so adroitly.

-FE: DUL-

"Why have you assembled all of us here Robin?" Miriel, to my surprise, arrived first. Bags hung under her eyes, and I felt a pang of guilt; I was asking everyone to work themselves to the bone, but the magical portion of the populace more than most. Establishing magical defenses for a location took time and effort, and we lacked for time, meaning everyone who could evoke the smallest degree of magical energy, and I didn't need elsewhere for other tasks was assigned to ward-crafting along both the inner and outer walls.

"If possible, I'd rather explain this one time." Rather, I only wanted to get yelled at once. Miriel nodded, settling into a nearby chair, eyelids drooping, while the rest of the Shepherds trickled in. A few inquired as to the purpose of the meeting, but most of them seemed content to wait, grouping around the room and speaking in low voices as they waited.

Chrom, haggard and dirty stumbled in last, slumping against the wall next to the Exalt herself. A glance at Cordelia revealed even she didn't know how Emmeryn heard of this, but I couldn't say I would object. Every little bit of protection helped. I caught a surreptitious flare of magic as Emmeryn placed a hand on her brother's shoulder. A bit of color returning to his cheeks, the Prince arched an eyebrow in my direction. "Robin?"

I took a deep breath. "During the strategy meeting this morning, I outlined the majority of my plans to hold off the Plegian army, noting at that time that the greatest threat to us would be enemy mages. At the time, I stated this task would be left to the Shepherds, although I left the specific details vague." Everyone's attention fixed upon me now, and I wanted to squirm. "What I am asking all of you to do is perhaps the most dangerous, yet important task at hand. So long as we have the means, a small group of the clergy will be dedicated to utilizing staves to teleport you, as a group, into the occupied portion of the city, allowing you to strike at a specific target, before withdrawing you via Rescue staves."

"You talk as if you won't be joining us." Maribelle favored me a harsh scowl, arms crossing, no doubt displeased that I, the person inventing the plan would be uninvolved.

"More often than not, you are correct, I will not be." Raising a hand to forestall their concerns, I kept going. If I got stopped now, I'd never finish. "Magic is the equalizer in this battle. An army of a million without a mage to their name will fall to a force smaller than we have here with a few powerful spell casters. For that reason, nearly every spell caster will be kept behind the walls, and well out of danger. The only exceptions to that are Miriel, Ricken, Lissa, Maribelle, Cordelia and Sumia."

"Why shall you remain behind the walls? Surely removing you will compromise the effective of us as a unit?" Virion steepled his fingers. Several nods showed a general agreement.

I tipped my head. "You are not wrong, although I have no intention of sending all of you into a pitched battle. Warp on top of the enemy, eliminate that group, and Rescue back to safety. If you are dropped into a battle, a mistake has been made by me, or someone else, and we need to get you out. Although conventional wisdom might suggest that we, as the defenders, hold a considerable advantage over the Plegian army the presence of Grimeal renders that idea moot. Your job will be to eliminate them, and very little else."

"You're sending us to deal with those freaks?" I couldn't help but think Sully's smirk looked a little to bloodthirsty.

"I am. I need people I trust, and well…" Shrugging, I let the rest go unsaid, before marshalling what flagging courage I had. "Obviously, no plan survives contact with the enemy, and despite my best efforts, you are likely to be engaged in a protracted battle with enemies we know very little about. In the absence of myself, and to prevent stretching our already exhausted mages further, I want to apply the wards that line my cloak to all of your armor." I braced myself as the room processed that declaration.

To my surprise, the reaction turned out to be rather muted. Confusion largely, although understanding of what I suggested formed on a few faces. "A moment." Miriel, perhaps unsurprisingly, put things together first. "The runes and protections inscribed in your cloak are of Grimeal origin. How can we be certain they will protect us against their creator's magic?"

"Didn't those ones you got not work against that Validar, anyways?" Sully again.

"Any magical defense can be overwhelmed by applying enough power. A principle my duel with Validar illustrated nicely, as did his defeat. The only difference between my cloak, and the wards you will create for yourself prior to the battle tomorrow, or that Lissa might conjure via staves, is that the runes in my cloak let the defenses remain in a more permanent state. They will protect just as well against Grimeal as any other threat, so long as the caster of the spell is stronger than whatever is striking them."

"She is correct." Half the room spun, weapons halfway drawn when Laurent spoke. "You are under no threat from the magic that Lady Robin proposes. It will increase your chances of survival in the coming battle." I caught his eyes, searching for the reasoning behind his words, and finding none. Unlike Morgan, whose expression told little of value, Laurent just…didn't. "Morgan suggested that you do this, in fact."

"She did?" Before I caught myself the words slipped out.

Laurent's lips thinned, annoyance if I had to guess. "Yes." No further words were forthcoming. While it didn't surprise me, I had to admit that it was annoying. I would have preferred a more concrete answer than what I got.

"I wouldn't suggest this I didn't think it would help protect you." Fourteen pairs of eyes returned my sweeping gaze. "This isn't a battle like we've faced before. Before, two people with enough power could protect the entirety of the Shepherds. Circumstances prevent me from being with you personally, but I intend to do all I can to ensure you come back alive." I held the eyes of every single person for at least a few seconds. "You're out best chance of winning this battle. And I wouldn't forgive myself it we came out of it and were holding funerals for any of you."

Some eyes never quite lost their suspicious edge, but as the moments ticked on, they dipped their heads in agreement. Chrom, nodded, once. "Let's get this done then."

AN: And... that's a wrap. A few final character moments before things go boom. We're over the planning and scheming hurdle, just the execution to go. Oh, and a character gets a bit a different take on them. I'll explain my weird abrupt Emmeryn head-cannon when it becomes relevant, it's something I think fits this story very well. That's a tease of things for later though.

While hardly the most imaginative use of Warp and Rescue staffs, much like my complaint about horses inside (which I have since learned is fixed in Tharcia, because of course it's the game I'm 2nd least likely to play), I'd like to think this offers some suggestion of the tactical options they present. Obviously, a precious resource, but they present a major advantage if you use them right. Suddenly deploying a cavalry charge on the flanks of the enemy formation for example. Can't do that here, being cooped up in a city. Maybe ideas for later on. Either way, expect more of those sorts of tricks.

Fun, if useless fact. There are 399 sentences in this chapter and 357 commas.

Once again next chapter is in a week, (and already about 30% edited due to a minor goof on my part, 23 comes before 24 kids) so I shall see you all then for Bad Things Happen To People Who Don't Deserve It.

As always, reviews, questions, and comments are appreciated.