Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
I am so, so sorry about the wait. For everyone who hasn't visited my profile recently, my computer died, along with my background information and the story as it was written so far. I thought it was the charger and took steps to get a new one, but it turns out that it's worse than that. I'm getting the computer to a repairman tomorrow, so that should be better. Thank you very much for being understanding.
I've decided to divide False Friends up into two parts, just because of the wealth of events that occur during this chapter. I hope you enjoy!
(And, once again, I'm very sorry.)
#115 – Smarmy
"Where is everyone?" Rebecca asked, frowning. "Nobody's working the fields we've been passing. The crop will go to waste if they don't get it in before winter."
Mark nodded. "There's not many reasons that a territory would neglect its harvest," he agreed. "If there was an emergency of some sort that required all able-bodied men, or if it planned on getting food from…other fields. Either one is indicative of Laus preparing for battle and taking the supplies of the loser to make up for the lost harvest."
"But who? Laus is in the middle of Lycia. It's not like Araphen or Ostia, where they always have to take men to watch the borders." At Mark's glance of surprise, she explained, "My father is the town's magistrate. He has to know about all sorts of places in Lycia, to make sure that he knows how to deal with anything that might come up."
"Right," Mark agreed. "Smart of him. Perhaps he wants to start a war with Etruria or Bern? When I was in Bern a year ago, I heard something about the prince coming of age soon. If Laus wants to strike, there isn't likely to be a better time to sow chaos than then."
Rebecca shrugged. "Laus prolly couldn't take Bern on their own, you know. They'd have to get the rest of the Lycian League behind them. And a bunch of territories say they don't want fighting. Plus, Laus would have to go through a bunch of territories to even get to Bern."
"Mmm." Mark frowned. Was Lord Darin trying to get the support of the rest of the League to declare war? If he was, why would he kill Marquess Santaruz? What possible obstacle would prove to be so great that Lord Helman's death was required to surmount it?
"Lord Eliwood!" Marcus' voice, trained over years to get recruits to sit up and pay attention, carried well. "A knight has ridden forth from the castle."
"A lone knight?" Mark heard as the group grew closer to Eliwood, trying to eavesdrop discretely.
"Yes, my lord," Marcus said. "Lowen says that it's Marquess Laus' son, Erik. He is asking to see you."
"Erik?" Eliwood asked as Mark wracked his brain for any earlier mention of the marquess' son. Something about…being a credit to his father?
"Gah. Why did it have to be that buffoon?" Hector grumbled. Or maybe not.
"I will see him," Eliwood decided. "Bring him here."
"I'm leaving," Hector said as Marcus rode forth to relay the message. "I could never abide him. I'll go and survey our surroundings." As Mark was about to go with him, ready to cite safety in numbers, he saw Oswin follow Hector and thereby eliminate his excuse. He bit down the urge to curse. Plenty of time to ask him about his motivations later, he assured himself.
"Hello!" greeted the man who rode up. "It's been a long time, Eliwood." Mark instantly disliked him. Something about Lord Erik grated on his nerves.
"Erik…" Eliwood mused. "What is your business?"
"My business? What do you mean?" Erik asked, his voice oozing sincerity. "I heard my old friend was here in Laus. I merely thought I'd ride out to greet you!"
Mark sighed. Whatever the man wanted, he was going about getting it rather poorly. Even Bartre, who had proclaimed last night to Mark that "big words made his head hurt!" was looking suspicious, clearly aware that something was not right with the man talking to Lord Eliwood.
A flash of light from the side of his eye caught the tactician's attention. Mark glanced to his left. The patch of trees was completely still. Nothing seemed out of the normal, until…
There it was again! Mark, looking back at the group, saw that Marcus had noticed it, as well, and was casually making his way over to Eliwood's side. For his part, Mark moved towards Matthew. "Can you check out that area to the left?" he asked. "Something's not right."
"To the left?" Matthew demanded, frowning. "I thought you'd want me to look at the place where the flashes are coming from, behind us."
"Behind…?" Slowly, Mark moved so it looked like he was still talking to Matthew but gave him a good view of the area behind them. After a few moments, there was a flash, but not from behind.
"Damn," Mark hissed. "We're surrounded."
"What are you and your father planning?" Eliwood demanded, raising his voice. "I will know the truth!"
"Hm... I'd hoped to wait until you'd told me of Ostia," Erik sighed. "Of whether you've spoken with the marquess or not."
"What are you talking about?" Eliwood asked. Behind Erik, Mark saw Hector approaching.
"Eliwood, I have always despised you," Erik laughed. "How I've longed to smash you and your pathetic morality into pieces! I've dreamed of this day, and here it is at last!"
"Too bad you'll not live to see the end of it," Hector growled in the man's ear. As Erik spun, Mark smirked at the look of abject horror painted on the marquess' son. "Eliwood, this mongrel has troops lying in ambush all around us. Laus regulars, every one. We're in for a rough time."
As Erik postured some more before running to his horse, Mark started thinking rapidly. Only Eubans' mercenaries come from all over Lycia – the regulars are likely from around here. If we can convince their forces that whatever they're doing is bad for Laus, or has been engineered by the mysterious Ephidel, maybe we can get them to stop fighting. If we can get some help from the locals…
"Hee hee hee…a world of trouble you've landed yourselves in, yes?" Mark turned to see an old woman speaking to Lord Hector. I wonder what that's about…