Chapter 50: Talk
"Speak then," the Lionsguard captain demanded of him.
"In moment's time." Ramza first called forth the esper moogle once more. Blue light taking care of wounded knights. "Best blood remain inside, no?" His own loss made his knees weak. Past day's turmoil lent his whole body stiff and tired. Lionsguard needed to be at their best for oncoming difficulties.
"Enough stalling, make your purpose plain or begone."
So much for placating her. "Circumstances should be clear now: The Northern Order is your enemy."
"And you speak as friend?" one of the other Lionsguard said, the very same laid injured at Orbonne. "Do not spread such japes."
"Were I enemy 'twould be simple thing to abscond with Her Highness once more, and left you for rot." 'Twas not how he wanted this to continue. "I speak now, in good faith, that my intentions are true."
"You bartered my life to coerce Her Highness," spat the Lionsguard, "'truth' is that you are but simple charlatan."
"Annabelle, please, stop," Princess Ovelia ordered. The fiery Lionsguard backed down, but kept a glare going at him. "I would hear his words."
"Thank you, Your Highness."
"If you do not fight for Duke Goltanna, whom do you pledge your sword to?"
Righteousness. "To you, Your Highness, if you'd have me."
"And if I accept such pledge, do you reveal your friend, name and source for disbelief?"
"That, I cannot do." 'Twas much the same as announcing himself Beoulve.
She shook her head. "Then I cannot put faith in your words."
Marching the Lionsguard straight to their deaths. Were it not for that, the burdens of travel might force him south to Lionel. Mayhap words to convince Cardinal Delacriox this was a boon? Having other people to coerce—
No. That was thinking like Dycedarg.
Violence was no solution for earning trust now. There seemed little choice but to let them learn the foul truth themselves.
But if they did, then his status would be outed anyway.
He thought alike Dycedarg more than he realized. What matter his name for others' lives?
He pulled free his helmet, holding it tight between hands stained with dried blood. The cold, thick air refreshing to taste over blood and metal.
"I know the Church is duplicitous because they were the ones who ordered me to kidnap Her Highness." The truth more refreshing than the air.
"What?" Word come from all.
"If their intent so pure we could have come to your face with such suspicions. Instead, 'twas take her away, leave you for dead and bring Her Highness to Lionel. My missing friend revealed the truth that she'd be bound for Duke Goltanna if any breath of life remained."
The Lionsguard regarded him with a fierce countenance. Their captain spoke, "This new tale holds no more water than your last. You again make claim whilst lacking proof and I tire of this cycle."
The Lionsguard's distrust were stronger than a castle's walls. There was no convincing her. Might he simply follow them into Lionel Castle? One chocobo could not be shared amongst five and Zaland was not a tiresome ways south...
Delita remained a concern as well. He'd seen no hair of his friend on the northern pass once more. That left south, or a watery grave.
"Even if by some manner what you speak is true," said Her Highness. "You simply have us following the Church's accused plan anyway."
"Delivering Her Highness to Duke Goltanna all but insures a war," the Lionsguard reiterated. "You may have my thanks for your aid, but I cannot let that happen."
"I thought the Church free of the grips of nobility," said Ramza, "an institution that worked for a better Ivalice without the trappings of political gain and vile practice. I did good under their service. But I will not stand idly by if they mean to exploit war for their own ends."
"As you mean to do as well," the Lionsguard accused. An arrow to the heart of the matter.
There was no answer but… "Yes." What choice did remain without war?
No, there remained another answer. One so clear and obvious he chided himself the fool for not coming to it sooner. If but only those who were Her Highness's enemies were to be dispatched, war could be avoided.
But how else but war to dethrone Her Majesty? Duke Larg and Dycedarg. Even mayhap Zalbaag.
Did he have a chance? Did he have a choice?
"Then only one options remains," he said as he fastened his helm back on. The Lionsguard drew mythril once more. "No, no, I mean no ill towards you."
"Then what do you intend?" asked Her Highness.
"Go after those responsible."
"You're mad," shouted the Lionsguard captain. "You cannot simply walk into Eagrose and meet with Duke Larg and Lord Dycedarg."
Bluntly, he could. Dycedarg would see him, and there would be way to have audience with Duke Larg if he strained himself. 'Twould not be hard deception, if he made claim of the Princess's location — lying of course — whilst feigning ignorance at their intent. The Queen would be a more difficult foe to reach, behind legion of Lionsguard mythril… Well, that could wait, he had days to plan.
"Such concern is welcome," he said. "But that way is mine own alone if our ways do part. Stay safe." His armor would sell well enough for a dagger's dirty work. Fists remained an option as well.
Delita remained his goal first though. He'd flipped his concern, four times now? Five? Humorous, in its own way.
He made turn southwards and walked past Her Highness. His legs took shaken steps on fatigued body. He'd need well rest before making his attempt.
"Hold," she commanded him. He faced her once more as she asked, "Is your name free to be given now?"
He was to be dead man walking in their eyes surely. "Ramza." Best not be Beoulve when one Lord Brother was her enemy.
"Your friend?"
"Fulke," he lied. He'd not drag Delita's name into this without consent.
"Now that you have my thanks for true, Ser Ramza," she earnestly praised him.
Two years ago such would have swelled him with pride at being such an exemplar of knighthood to receive Royal decree.
Pessimism took its toll and he felt only cold. (The wind did not help.)
"If we make east, could you find us safe audience with Duke Goltanna?"
He blinked several times. Cleared his head, sucked in a deep breath of air. He had not misheard. His mind reeled about as if under a spell of slowness. "P-pardon?" He half-stammered out.
Lionsguard shouts, unfocused, from below.
Her Highness repeated herself. Her face lined with worry and distrust.
But he had no answer. "My friend could." Was she considering this seriously? Or was it just expanding grasp at knowledge? "Were we to locate him, I'm sure we could traverse Fort Besselat."
The Lionsguard Captain spoke up at him. "The Northern Order patrols in unknown numbers; 'twould take days to scour river's shores for a man who may yet rest at its bottom."
The thought was not beyond his consideration, no matter how much he believed it unlikely. "Then I am at a loss." There was no way he could get through Besselat and if they approached there was no guarantee of anything. He knew not a single man in the Southern Sky to trust, or who would trust him.
No, that was wrong. There was someone who owed him a debt of life. "I may have way to meet with Marquis Elmdore, should we travel into Limberry."
"The Marquis?" repeated Her Highness.
"I've had the pleasure of his company before," under terrible circumstances, "and a Templar's credentials shall see much success meeting with an ordained Inquisitor."
"After all your accusations of the Church you'd have us seek shelter in a man under their wings?" poised the Lionsguard Captain.
"I pray he has more loyalty to the Crown than the Church, or, at least, to Duke Goltanna. Else I've little more than faint hope to meet directly with the Duke." Simply shouting she was the Princess was more like to get them accosted, even with Lionsguard accompanying. "The choice then, is yours, Your Highness."
"I stand by your decision my lady." The other Lionsguard supported their leader. "But I place my offer on Lionel."
"I understand, Agrias."
Right, he'd heard the captain's name earlier. He'd simply forgot in the circumstances.
"Alicia, Lavian, Annabelle, your thoughts?" asked Her Highness. Curious indeed to seek such opinions, but prudent.
"I do not trust him," the Lionsguard Annabelle answered. "I stand by the Captain's recommendation."
"Approaching Zeltennia would require circling many days north and around the Besselat sulice and lake," said another of the Lionsguard. "'Twould be best to approach from the sandwastes, but we lack preparation and supplies enough for our numbers. I do not recommend it, Your Highness."
The last Lionsguard looked at her compatriots with an unfortunate sense of grimace. "I fear I will have to act Lucavi's advocate here," she said. (Ramza recalled the saying as a name for one of the minor offices in the Church that debated the canonicity of Saints.) "If this man's words stay true then Limberry is our only safe recourse. If the Church is innocent of wrongdoing when we seek their protection, the sheer weight of the Northern Order could crush them."
"They would not dare attack the Church so brazenly."
"Nor would we think them assassinate you, Highness." Each word pained the Lionsguard to say. "We cannot underestimate the debauchery they might dare commit. Only the Southern Order holds number enough to oppose the Northern on equal ground."
"I'd rather this not come to war…"
Everyone offered their little nods of approval for that. But the same Lionsguard was the only one to offer words, "The scales of justice balance in your favor, Your Highness. 'Tis not the battle you went to, but it came to you. Will, keep coming to you."
He'd not expected an ally in the Lionsguard but was welcome relief after all the dire tidings.
Her Highness visibly fought back a sigh. "We make travel to Limberry."
Training and poise won out over disappointment and Lionsguard met her ears with "yes my lady"s.
This was a victory. A lousy one, but he had to accept it for what it was.
Quick scavenge of useful gear and bodies laid to rest. Chocobo saddle bags pried free and the departed beasts set aside. Too damaged for any use but monster bait. No sword offered to Ramza before way set north.
Path laid best of what Delita told him of Northern patrols. Torn in two directions, he indeed did follow them north.
One last thought of lost friend:
Stay safe, Delita.
Author's Notes: Talk indeed. He gave what she asked...
Savaris: Thank you for your Review. Wow, that's a whole lot of reading right there. A fair bit of people do seem to be reading it, according to behind-the-scenes graphs. Totally get reading something and not commenting, do that plenty myself, haha. Plus there's a bit of a slow start, some random, uneven pacing and directioning. Hopefully it's getting better now. I'll keep on keepin' on!
Thank you new Follow. Thank you all for reading and have a fiery day.
