It had been two weeks since Jaune departed the main camp of Subetei Ba'atar to ride west into the heart of the Kingdom of Hungary with a portion of the Mongol army. Now, upon returning to what had been his home since the Kievan Rus', it felt like he had been gone for over a month.
As euphoric as it was, the Frank had to keep his emotions inside himself lest he offend any of the soldiers he was riding with. Many of them, his own unit included, already expressed their distaste for him in light of the death of a known Mongol noble, one of the very few among their number who had fallen during their excursion. Ren and Qrow translated that much in the few moments they had amongst themselves. Their lies held, however, and Jaune prayed that it would continue to hold.
Even then, his doubts were resurfacing as he rode past the boundaries of the horde. He was back within earshot of the man who skillfully used deception and political intrigue to destroy entire kingdoms in months. How could he, a slave warrior, fool a master of lies? No less with an excuse that was barely holding up against his comrades?
The other soldiers had already gone ahead, leaving him behind with the baggage train. He watched them return to their friends, their own families. Along with every other man in the hundreds-strong force.
Jaune tasted something bitter in his mouth upon seeing these Tartars—no, 'Mongols'—happily returning to the arms of their own kin. Those same hands that embraced their wives and their mothers, those same hands that held up their laughing children, those same hands that mercilessly loosed arrows into innocents and wickedly struck down defenseless citizens. He looked away if only to spare the spiteful spirit of irony cackling with the voice of the Devil in his head.
"Jaune!"
Was that...?
"Jaune! Over here!"
He had been so lost in thought that Yusehol plodded unrestrained through rows of tents. And now he was being greeted by the two most precious people in his life right now. It took him a full moment to convince himself that they were indeed real and that he was indeed back home. Well, as far as 'home' was defined in this sense.
"Jaune! Hállá Istennék, you're back!" cried Ruby Rose, daughter of Hungary.
Behind her, a beaming Blake Belladonna of the Lombard League wiped her face with her sleeve.
Seeing them both restored the colors that had faded from the world around him. The Frank pulled on the reins, bringing Yusehol to a halt. Ruby stood there waiting. He slipped off his saddle and they wrapped each other in a tearful embrace.
"I missed you," she whimpered. "I missed you so much!"
"I missed you, too," he answered.
"Blake and I...w-we...we did so much..."
He rubbed her back while she sobbed onto the armored padding of his leather tunic. In the corner of his vision stood Blake. The Lombard idled a few paces away with her arms folded over her stomach, happy that he had returned safe. And beside her approached another man. A taller man. A man with a sharp Tartar face—strangely reminding him of Ren in a way—and wearing the coveted segmented plates of Subetei Ba'atar's elite bodyguard, complete with a scabbarded blade strapped to his hip, a bow slung over his shoulder, and an ornate quiver filled with arrows.
Immediately his smile wavered. Ruby felt him detach from her and she cupped his face to direct his attention towards her.
"Jaune? What's wrong?"
Jaune gulped. "Nothing. I, uh..."
The bodyguard spoke in a voice that reminded him so much of his dead master. "Welcome back, Jaune Arc, son of the Franks."
Frightened as he was, the Frank managed to hold his composure and reciprocate with a light bow. "Pardon me, a-ge. I don't think we've met before."
The man chuckled. "Ah, my apologies. I go by the name of Renjidai. I have been tasked by Subughatai Baghatar to ensure the protection of your...friends."
Blake, Ruby, and Jaune all leveled stares at him. Friends? Not slaves, not servants but friends. And this coming from a man who was among the finest and highly revered of the Tartar soldiery, a society of warriors who commonly viewed outsiders below themselves.
"You are a kheshig, noyan?" Jaune remarked.
"Yes."
The Frank wormed his arm tight around Ruby's waist. "I see. Thank you, noyan...for watching over them."
Renjidai pressed his fist over his chest and bowed. "It is my duty, Numan."
"It's okay, Jaune," Ruby assured him. She dropped her voice low. "He's been training us how to fight."
He stiffened. "What?"
Before she could explain further, Blake hastened over and enveloped herself around him. She squeezed her arms around his chest and pressed her cheeks into his shoulder. "I'm glad your back."
Jaune was stunned. Both from the sudden embrace—this was Blake, after all—and the news that this elite Mongol warrior smirking in front of him was training his two girls in the martial arts. What happened when he was away? "B-blake? Wh-what's going on?"
"Let's talk about this inside," she whispered into his ear. "Please."
He glanced to Ruby who now found it difficult to meet him in the eye.
"Jaune, please," Blake pleaded. "Inside..."
"Okay, okay." The Frank reciprocated the embrace. "I missed you, too, Blake."
He heard Yuse whinny and saw Ruby running her hand on the horse's mane. "Hello, Yusehol. Missed me, haven't you? Because I missed you too, you naughty steed. I hope you didn't give Jaune too much trouble."
Renjidai paced beside him, his attention directed to the congregation in the market square where many of the troops were quartering horse loads of pilfered goods. "You will not participate in the distribution of loot, Numan?"
"I only have what I need, noyan," Jaune deflected. "I did not take any that I have no use for."
"May I see what you have taken that you have use for?"
Ruby and Blake traced the kheshig's gesture. There was a clear lump on the back of his saddle: loot.
Jaune sucked in a deep breath before seizing reins from Ruby, taking her arm and Blake's, and pulling along with him. He ignored their gasps and soldiered past Renjidai. "I'll show you inside."
"Numan," barked the kheshig. "Where is Dur'qatai Noyan?"
The Frank ignored him until he pushed through the door to the small yurt that had been his home. Nothing much had changed save for another quiver of arrows in the corner that he was sure did not belong to him or anyone else.
Ruby darted around in the small space of his tent. Like a wild leopard sprinting in circles within a cage, she retrieved and replaced various things, hanging up what little possessions they had on the netting hanging from the beams and neatly segregating the baubles that he barely recalled ever getting. Impressively, she started up the fire by herself and quickly set a pot of stew boiling over it.
"Really into it, huh," Jaune remarked, impressed with how clean his hovel was since he last left it.
"I learn from the best," Ruby chirped.
The Frank smirked. "Wow. Blake got you to shape up."
The Lombard let out a strangled laugh.
"Blake?"
Ruby shoved him an empty bowl and motioned for him to sit in front of the fire. Almost the same spot where he usually sat. "Lunch will be ready soon!"
"Uh-huh. What's your specialty?"
"Horse stew? But don't tell Yuse that."
"Sure." Jaune sat with his legs crossed before the fire. Across from him, Blake shuffled awkwardly across from him. "Blake? Are you—"
"Here you go!" Ruby chirped, pouring his a generous portion of boiling stew. "It's still hot so wait a bit."
He had barely taken a sip and the Magyar had already distributed even servings between the four of them. Four. Him, Ruby, Blake. And Renjidai the kheshig who had been standing in the doorway watching them with the sharp eye of a grinning hawk.
"Thank you for the meal, Tseglata'ani," the Mongol guardsman said, accepting his share.
"'Tseglata'ani?'" worded the unnerved Frank.
"A fitting name for a diligent girl," Renjidai said, squeezing next to him. "Numan, I believe we have much to discuss."
"So let me get this straight," Jaune said over his half-empty bowl. "Renjidai Noyan offered to train you in the martial arts with nothing in exchange."
The girls nodded. Renjidai remained seated across from him, silent and stoic for the most part. The way he had been regarding the Frank was unsettling. Deep piercing eyes, calculating stare, and the fact that his saber sat neatly over his lap with the pommel a bare inch from his free hand.
"Did anyone...catch you or...does anyone else know?"
Ruby shook her head. "No. At least, I hope not."
Jaune eyed her incredulously. "You hope not?"
"We haven't been in trouble because of it," Blake reworded.
"Not yet," the Frank corrected.
"I can shoot a bow!" Ruby blurted out. "Blake can, too. She's better at it."
Jaune sighed. "I can't say I'm not happy with what you've been doing but...I can say that I'm grateful." He warily regarded the kheshig. "For all this, thank you, Renjidai noyan."
"No need to thank me, Numan. I simply did what I considered...helpful in this situation."
"So, Jaune," Ruby prodded, "what did you do out there?"
Lord above, here comes the inquisition. Could he lie to her? Could he lie to Blake as well? Have they not heard of their exploits from the heralds that were sent ahead or were they as aloof as some? Regardless, he had to answer. "Ah, um, we went places...and gathered supplies."
"You raided," Blake intoned.
Jaune sucked in a deep breath. He hoped they would not hate him for this. "Yes. Yes, we raided."
Ruby's voice cut through his skin. "Did you...did you kill?"
He bit his lip. "I didn't see if I did."
"Were there battles?"
Small, sparse engagements save for the one bloody day where a whole village had been erased from the map. "Nothing big. Only a few...encounters. That we won."
"And what happened to those who lost?"
The Frank exhaled into his hands. "You know what happens."
"Did you at least give mercy?" Blake asked.
Jaune looked up to see the Lombard staring him down. He noticed how stiff she was; she had balled her fists over her lap. "I didn't take part in it."
"Take part in what? The raids?"
"I fought when I fought," he growled. "But I did not quarter them into the heart of the village to be slaughtered like prey in some wild hunt."
"Is that what they did?" Ruby squeaked. "They...they rounded the people in the middle of the town and...and..."
"It is the way of our warriors," Renjidai intoned neutrally. "Such is the way of war as is the way of the hunt. There is often no distinction."
The three were silent.
"You were resilient," Blake muttered. "Steadfast. You didn't let yourself become one of them." The Lombard curled her lips with sad eyes relieved. "It shows that you're better."
Jaune breathed easy. "Thank you, Blake."
"Well said, Tseglarlun," noted the kheshig. "However, I hope you do not mind me sating my curiosity. Numan, where is Dur'qatai Noyan?"
Blake and Ruby craned their heads to their master and friend sitting tight and wordless.
Renjidai's voice resonated deeper and more sternly. "Numan, where is Dur'qatai Noyan?"
"He fell in battle," Jaune lied.
And when he glanced back up from his half-empty bowl, he could see that everyone in the tent knew how far from the truth that was.
Cackling flames.
"Dur'qatai Noyan," breathed Ruby, "is dead?"
He nodded stiffly.
"How," croaked Blake, "how did he die?"
"I wasn't there," the Frank continued, finding it the lie easier by the word. "I was hit in the head hard and the next thing I know, he was...dead. Killed in the skirmish."
"Ah, a skirmish," echoed Renjidai. "How did that go, by the way?"
Dear Lord above, this kheshig was going to destroy everything! Alas, Jaune had backed himself into a corner and had no other choice but to continue the illusion. Besides, his master's remains had already been taken care of. Any evidence that would turn up after that could be argued on the grounds of being false and borne of circumstance.
"We were coming back from Strigonium—"
"Strigonium!?" harped the Magyar girl.
The Lombard grabbed her. "Ruby! Let him talk."
"But, Jaune," Ruby stammered, "You were at Strigonium? You reached the city?"
Jaune shook his head. "No, no. We didn't go there. We just...saw it. With our own eyes. It's still...it's still under the control of King Bela. We were only scouting the area."
"So you...made it all the way there. You're getting closer to the heartlands. You're getting closer..."
"Such is the reality of this world, Tseglata'ani," interjected Renjidai. "Numan, please continue."
The Frank sighed. "We rode into a bog on the way back to the rest of the army when we were intercepted by a Hungarian war band. It was a small party but we were also small in number so it was a hard fight. We were also in the middle of a swamp so it was difficult to maneuver as well."
"Yes, I have heard of a similar encounter from one of our messengers," the kheshig mused. "Please, go on."
"I was pulled from my horse. We ended up fighting on foot and I was hit in the head. I don't remember much after that. I only remember coming to and seeing Dur'qatai Noyan dead in the water."
Embers cackling.
Renjidai leaned slightly and stroked his beard. For a moment, he stared into the tiny flames eating up the charcoal in the fire pit. "... Tell me, Numan. Who were you fighting at the time?"
"Hungarian horsemen."
"What kind of horsemen?"
Jaune breathed deep. "Knights. There were a few knights among them."
"How many?"
"I don't know," insisted the Frank. And while he could be lying, he never truly knew if Cardin and that Ozma fellow were the only knights in that war band. Besides, the other riders could have also been knights. Granted, they could have been lesser knights but knights nonetheless.
"There were two knights who were captured recently," blurted Ruby.
Jaune stared at her. No. It couldn't be. There were countless knights in this kingdom. "Really now."
"Yes," Renjidai said. "A 'Tem-palar' and a 'Hosse-pital-yer' if I recall correctly."
And at that moment, the Frank felt the blood drain from his body. Cardin was a Hospitaller while Ozma had the colors of a Templar. Other than Ren and Qrow, those two were the only other witnesses to what really transpired in the bog. This had to be a massive coincidence; Cardin and Ozma could not be possibly be in this very camp right now!
Could they?
"Two papal knights?" echoed Jaune.
"Igen," Ruby said. "We saw them. They were paraded through the camp, in chains like us when we were first brought in. They were probably sold off to someone by now because we have never seen them since."
"When was this?" he demanded.
"A few days ago," Blake answered. Nervously.
"What—" The Frank paused. Choose the words carefully. "Who...were they Hungarian?"
"I don't know," Ruby replied. "I tried to talk to them. They understood me...I think."
"We can't be sure," Blake corrected. "Ruby called out to them and they heard her but we can't be sure if they understood her or were simply startled."
"Right. Okay. Um, I see."
"Is there something about them, Numan?" Renjidai pressed.
Jaune swallowed the lump in his throat upon seeing how close the kheshig's hand was to the hilt of the sword on his lap. Was this man onto him? "Only curious."
"As am I. We often do not return with captured knights."
"Then I guess you have been fortunate," he deflected. "You should know more about them as I have only returned from the west."
The kheshig nodded. "You are right. I was only being curious."
"I hope I have sated your curiosity."
A quick, chilling smile flashed back at him. "You have. For now."
Outside, Yuse whinnied. Jaune set his empty bowl down and stood up. "If you'll excuse me, I have to unpack a few things."
"Loot?" Blake queried.
"Yes. Loot."
And a bag that he had left unopened out of respect for her. If there was to be any consolation for all the effort it took to get it, it better be some answers as to what was in it. In the back of his mind, he hoped that Blake would give him that at least. Besides, he too was curious.
ORIGINALLY DRAFTED: November 11, 2019
LAST EDITED: January 5, 2020
INITIALLY UPLOADED: January 5, 2020
Translations:
Hállá Istennék = Thank God [Hungarian]
A-ge = Sir (nobility) [Mongolian]
Igen = Yes [Hungarian]