Chapter 36: Resolves
The interior of the Free City of Bervenia was busy with the faithful. Pilgrims kept in orderly lines by Templarate.
Being of the latter, Delita and the rest were afforded a clear path through the crowds and to the Templars Central Command building in the city. A repurposed garrison building taken after the Church assumed direct control of the city; it was among many religious holdings surrounding the great square where Saint Ajora declared a well plagued.
Said well was guarded by a multitude of Templars and other clergy. Save one approach that formed a line that may well reach outside the city.
Their chocobos were taken by young squires and led to nearby stables whilst the dismounted Templars moved inside (graced with bows from those stationed).
The entrance hall was far warmer than Delita had expected. Well-furnished with a number of religious icons he'd not the mind to recall. Other Templars stood to greet them. Meliadoul and an unfamiliar officer among them.
"Loffrey is has been some time!" the other Officer cheerfully said with his rather high voice. "Come, come, let us get you all settled in from the day's dealings. I'm sure you're all quite famished and tired." The officer gave a wave to his men.
"Thank you for your offer, I'm sure the men appreciate it," said Loffrey, soon aided by warm returns of "yes".
Delita among him. So much riding left his hindquarters sore and arms aching.
"Good, good," the officer gave a warm smile. "I've already made arrangements, my men will see you to your rooms. I'll have our chefs work their skills for a nice feast. Let us say, an hour's half of rest before dinner, aye?"
"So be it."
The arriving Templars were segmented off with guides to lead him. Delita ended up as head of his own little group as he waited for their guide.
It was Meliadoul.
On their way to quarters, she struck up a conversation with him. "How do you fare, Delita?"
"Well, and you?"
"Fair. My brother?"
"Good, last I saw him. Even as he works his fingers raw repaying debts he made."
She smiled. "I would say 'twas quite a welcome surprise."
"So was his when he came asking for the gil."
"Where does he impart then? Ramza, Lord Father as well?" A hint of worry crept into her voice.
They knew of their impending arrival but not where the rest of the Templars were sent? Curious. "Your Lord Father remains in Mullonde, safely. Ramza and Isilud go to Lesalia to lend aid to the Inquisition."
"The Inquisition?" Meliadoul awkwardly stumbled at the name. "To say nothing of… What manner of… troubles require such a union?"
She was as doubtful as all in the room.
"Heretics most severe. And any more said would damage reputations."
"What matter is reputation in such situation?"
Only a noble could say that.
"Than consider it precaution. I know not how far a heretic's grip may be." Impossibly far to reach here, but mayhap enough to convince her.
She considered it a moment, and stopped. "Your quarters."
She left without another word.
With no further interruptions the small group entered the room. A number of areas were sectioned off to provide as much comfort and privacy for the occupants as allowed.
The group worked some basic rest, relaxation and hygiene before being called forth for the feast.
The mess hall was large enough to feed ten times as many men as invited. A nice choice of cut meats and tempting fruits served.
The officer in charge introduced himself as Linnett Able. Pleasant words were directed at them as well as setting the men at liberty for the remainder day. Tomorrow would be the time to discuss and begin settling into the new patrols and duties. But for now it was their time.
Delita did not indulge in it. Preferring a simple night's sleep rather to some manner of leisure. There was some other ploy here, he was certain of it, and he would face it as rested as he could.
"Lost consciousness; awash in a sea of silent slumber… Repose."
The magical slumber layered upon the natural in a room beyond sight.
Barich moved forward to pick the lock right after. A few blinks of time were all it took.
Silent as they could five Templar officers plied into the dark room. Their target in the deepest sleep imaginable. Their hands plied through his belongings as swiftly as able. Prying everything apart for the important missive.
Nothing.
Then came their grabbing hands at the man's body.
'Twas Loffrey who found it. Sequestered where light did not shine in solid wooden case.
With some trepidation Cletienne took the locked box. With some mastery of magicks did he pull the envelope contained within. And by the same manner moved out the letter from its sealed containment.
Linnett took it, his eyes tracing the words contained within at the greatest speed.
"'Tis what we expected," the local commander said upon finishing. "She's offering Chancellor Glevanne the Dukedom if he submits."
The Queen just wanted her claws in everything. Not long before her damming gaze was turned on the Church.
"They move as we push them to," said Loffrey. "Reseal the message, no alterations are needed."
Cletienne did as instructed as the other Templars resettled the room. With no further business they left, content in their successes.
The morning call came and Delita was quick to answer. The first among his group by a good many minutes.
Breakfast was hearty and filling and he was done well before the rest of his squad began.
Surely the reason he was summoned to the Commander's office.
The rest of the officer corps were present in the large room. Easily a third the size of the mess hall yet with only a number of chairs and a desk to furnish it.
"You summoned me?"
"Good, good, at least one of the enlisted still has their wits about," said the local commander from the other side of the desk. "Your name, Templar?"
He surely already knew. "Delita Herial, ser."
"Master Linnett Able." The master leaned back in his chair. He was a short man, Delita was certain he was already taller than him. But he was well-built beneath his pink tabard and gold armor. A dark slick of hair and dull brown eyes. "Now, you're here to receive your duty orders."
"Shall I be amongst the true reason we marched?"
"Pardon?" The man was not surprised.
"One would not send such a heavy concentration of Officers with such a limited amount of Enlisted if we were but to reinforce the men present. Nay, I would presume that there is some greater purpose for which they've all been assigned."
Wiegraf grunted at his words but the commander—Master Linnett smiled. "Well, you weren't wrong Loffrey, he's a cut above the usual rank-and-file we have."
"The High Confessor's eye for talent is rarely wrong."
"Well, Ser Herial, you're sense for planning is not wrong. Baron Grimms has requested a number of reinforcements for suppressing the Order of the Ebon Eye. You're head's proven itself smart enough to accompany, should you so desire."
Wiegraf sneered in disgust. "So all talk of raising sword and flag for the commons was lies? I am not surprised."
"The Ebon Eye are not your Corpse Brigade Folles." The Master glared at him. "They are formed of misbegotten noble core and surrounded by men little more than brigades. Claim their cause all they want, their tactics are dishonorable and wrong. They would hunt commons as well as any ill-intent noble."
"We shall see."
"We travel in disguise, hiding from unpleasant eyes to the Baron Grimms. Whence we defeat his foemen, what then?" Favor with Duke Goltanna was surely not the end goal of this.
The man gave a sly smile. "We shall see."
That was not enough! "I've had my limit with unanswered questions and blind orders."
"You forget your place, Herial." The man's formerly open features closed off.
"My place is where I decide it to be, if I do not mistake the invitation's intent."
His rebuttal caused an eyebrow quirk of annoyance upon the commander's face.
"We aid our own," said Loffrey.
"What?"
"A member of the Templarate already works his aid with the Blackram Knights. Our intent is not to end the Ebon Eye but lay claim on certain resources."
Some manner of deception then? "Those are?"
"To be told if your trust is ample. No fool shouts their plans from the roofs to all who listen."
The closely guarded wording meant this was as far as he might press it. "I understand. If you would have me I'd offer my services in this venture."
"So be it. You are dismissed."
So simply then. Delita walked away. The remainder of his time a mix of anxiety and curiosity.
Clad in plain clothing and with equipment stored in a trunk, the Templars in disguise set out eastward into Zeltennia. The Officers, save Linnett but including Meliadoul, Delita, Casey of all people and three more "trusted" enlisted made their march.
The ride over gave talk to their true purpose. Securing a number of Southern Sky cloaks and armors while also placing a man within the Blackrams ranks.
Delita was not the only one for consideration for the latter.
It took two days for them to journey to the Blackram encampment. Which was less a mass of tents and the makings of a small village. Situated a good deal off the normal roads near what used to be a forest. A number of makeshift wooden buildings had been constructed in the middle of a stake and ditch perimeter and a few watchtowers posted. It was a far different mobilization from the Northern Sky's assault against the Corpse Brigade.
A pair of sentries barred their entrance but a few words from Loffrey gave them entrance and directions to the stables, mess and where Baron Grimms made his command. Delita brought his face bare, whilst Wiegraf kept it hidden still.
The inside of the camp was overflowing with men and women keeping busy. A chorus of voices, clangs and shouts. Not all wearing the livery of the sentries in front. 'Twould be no surprise to see Southern Sky in the camp, but a dozen other crests and Orders Delita had never heard or seen were settled in like they belonged.
The Templars moved to the large building in the center of the camp-town after stabling their chocobos. A mighty table dominated the dirt-floored room illuminated by lanterns. A dozen people poked and talked about the maps displayed before them. The lead man, the size of a bear, with a mane and beard of bushy black hair, spoke with a heavy voice as he noticed them.
"Ha, more men to aid us I see!" His beard curled with his lips into a smile. "I daresay they're more of yours Palamedes."
"That they are," said the tall, but somewhat thin, blonde knight to the Baron's left.
"Mayhap a fresh set of eyes will see what all ours miss, come, come," he waved them closer, "see if you may yet salvage this disaster."
No need for an exchange of titles and pleasantries here then.
Loffrey indicated them forward and the whole group took position around the suddenly-cramped table edges. On closer inspection of the maps covering the table, they were local maps of Zeltennia. The camp indicated with a large square and a number of bright red "exes" scattered on near every bit of the parchment. Southern Sky forts and Zeltennian cities were outlined in green. No red markings near them. A number of black-and-red swords cut across certain areas as well.
"You've no lead on the whereabouts of the Eye?" asked Loffrey.
"They harry my men whatever patrol or squad we send yet every movement in force finds us naught. Ever since our last victory they meld with the shadows and only strike when the advantage is theirs. I've lost more men to these dishonorable tactics than I did fighting directly."
"So I've noticed."
"How many Orders do you ally yourself with to accomplish this?" asked Alfredo.
The Baron gave a shrug. "All of them."
"You jape," said Claudino.
"I do not. You've seen Southern Sky, I'm sure, but we've Blue Rose Lancers, the White Feather Riders, Twilight Knights, the mercenary band calling themselves Indomitable, men claiming Eastern Sky, Western and one even calling herself a Northern Sky knight."
"Absurd," said Cletienne, "anyone claiming themselves Western Sky would sooner find fortune explaining whence they disappeared to during the war."
"To say naught of the Northern in Southern lands," Meliadoul chimed in.
Delita suppressed a chuckle.
"Broach the issue with them hence, for now I accept all aid given."
"Then let us give our aid," said Loffrey. "What further more is your situation?"
"We've not a damned idea where their commander headquarters himself. The forces afield are led in small groups when we few times catch them. Never a word from their lips, if they let themselves be caught with tongue at all."
"What admirable resolve," complimented Wiegraf.
"You'd think less after what they've done to homesteads nearby," said the Templar named Palamedes. "Putting these cretins to the sword is mercy."
"So say all 'noble intentions'."
Wiegraf's words were quickly turning everyone at the table against him.
Delita fought down a smile just barely.
He turned his attention solely on the maps to brace himself again. Finding the little gaps where the Ebon Eye might yet hide. None near seemed large enough for the implication of where the command might yet be located, so he cast his search further out.
There were a number of stripes of land to the northern coasts that were open. As well as a large island to the north that seemed passing familiar but he couldn't quite put his mind to answering why.
"Sers," Delita spoke up, "what think you of their command being on this northern island?"
"Nelveska?" said the Baron. "Nay boy, 'twould be impossible."
"'Twas the site of Zelmonia fighters for the Fifty Years' War. There would be camp equipment enough to be within the realm of possibility," Wiegraf gave unusually helpful advice.
"And 'tis been cursed since war's end. Not a soul that's set foot on the isle's come back alive."
"Mayhap because the Ebon Eye camps there," said Loffrey, adding his support on.
The Baron ruminated on the information with a deep furrowing of his brow. "If you think it so able you've your own eyes to check. But I'll keep my men working in Zeltennia proper."
No support at all for what may well be the Blackram's goal. He'd enough of such responsibility passing!
"Then we shall," said Loffrey, quite to the surprise of everyone.
"'Tis far from guaranteed, ser," offered Delita. Even with it as his idea.
"'Be where your enemy thinks you not'," he said. "Barbaneth Beoulve's words. I consider it enough to warrant inspection."
"So be it," the Baron nodded. "My camp's resources are at your disposal should you choose to make use of them."
"Appreciated, Your Lordship. But we shall hold fast our own supplies. Palamedes, remain here."
"Aye, ser."
With another nod, Loffrey had them exit. Walking back through the camp-town, Loffrey said, "We'll spend time for rest for the mounts. Eat, talk, do what you will but return to the stables in hour's time."
Before any answers could be given a woman's voice broke through everything. Familiar, sweet, loud and saying his name:
"Delita!"
Slender arms wrapped him from behind.
"Gylda…"
Author's Notes: Originally I was going to include the trip to Nelveska in this Chapter but I thought it fair similarity to end it on Delita meeting a former friend too.
Asahar4: Thank you for your Review. There are certain plot beats I want to hit and write towards how to make it a reality in line with character actions. If I can't fit something in without someone going heavily out-of-character or doing something idiotic or contrived to drive the plot I'll scrape it. Well, it's not full-proof, obviously. I will say I've got a clear vision for what I want the ending to be, just no detailed plan how to get there.
Guest: Thank you for your Review. The ones who would be important are Ramza's cadet team (Stone, Fulke, Gylda, Margarete, Deitrich and Pelinne) the Templar Officers (Alfredo, Claudino, Linnett, Palamedes) and the fourth Lionsguard knight (Annabelle). The OCs in the prior chapter receiving names is to contrast how Ramza thinks compared to his peers. Delita in this Chapter cares not for the other Templar enlisted names. Incidentally, the Templar OCs are named after the unused Templars.
Thank you all for reading and have a resolved day.