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Chapter Twenty-Five: Where our Heroes Learn the Stakes

Arthur was not sure why he had expected Herzliya to be little more trading outpost or military-type compound, but he had. Staring out into the large port city with its high-rise buildings and listening to the whirs and clicks of machinery that powered the city, he felt a little ashamed of himself for thinking Herzliya would be nothing more than a glorified garrison. Herzliya was more advanced than Londonium, Spandow, and even Vindobona—he wondered how many more preconceptions he had of the Byzantium would be shattered over the course of the next month or two. He glanced to the side and spotted Kiku had sidled up beside him, a cap over his ears and a cloak falling to his knees, covering up his tail. He looked uncomfortable but smiled politely.

Arthur and Alfred were not the only ones who had to hide who they were while they traveled.

Even though the nations in the Far East were the Byzantium's neighbors, both Esther and Sadiq had explained that most Kitsunes, and other types of Hybrids that lived in the east and south, were viewed as demons. The attitude extended towards the Fey too, but the Byzantium feared them more than they hated them. Iit was odd to grasp that even though the Byzantium had such harsh views of magic in some cases, they had no issues with sorcerers or Talentborns. He had tried to ask Esther about it, as she clearly did not have the same feelings, but her only answer was, "It just is."

"You look surprised, Arthur-san." Arthur nodded with a slight flush and scribbled on his tablet.

It's quite large.

"Yes, and advanced. Zionists pride themselves in their advancements in technology and medicine—admittedly, most of their discoveries are brought about by their militaristic approach to life and warring with their neighbors, but still, their achievements are notable." Kiku shook his head and glanced out at the city.

Arthur nodded. Have you been here before?

Kiku's eyes got the faraway look they always did when he was asked something he did not want to delve into; Arthur had gotten good at observation during his months of silence. "Yes, when I was younger, and much more judgmental than you."

His smile was teasing a little and Arthur felt himself responding in kind. "Kitsunes and other hybrids are not welcome here in most cases, but I was traveling with Yao-sama at the time and wasn't bothered due to his status. It opened my mind to the many good things about Zion and its culture. Herzliya is a beautiful city—it's a shame we cannot spend more time here, but maybe on the return trip we will have time to enjoy the many sights and alcoves the city has to offer her visitors."

Arthur nodded, his mind distracted and wandering down the inevitable path to their mission, Ivan, and worries about what the nine hells they were planning to do once they found him (his default brain setting of late). He pulled his mind away from those thoughts and gave Kiku a lopsided shrug to say maybe. Kiku watched him silently, something that had once unnerved Arthur but didn't bother him now. Kiku was quiet and contemplative, he always thought over his words very carefully, which was something Arthur had grown to appreciate over the nearly six months he'd been with the Evangeline crew.

"You are concerned about Alfred-san." Kiku said plainly. Arthur turned away to look out at the city as the ship pulled closer and closer to the ports. He shrugged; anyone on board the ship knew he was concerned about Alfred. He was not alone in his concern.

Ever since Nikolai had shared the news of Matthew's kidnapping, Alfred had been withdrawn and terse, like a tightly wound coil waiting to lash out. Arthur did not blame him. He knew how close Alfred was to his brother, but he was worried that Alfred's anger and misplaced guilt over what happened was going to boil over. The only moments he seemed more like himself anymore was when he and Arthur were alone in their cabin at night, when Alfred felt safe and secure enough to let his anger drop. Arthur was concerned what would happen to him now that they would not have those moments alone so easily.

He jerked as Kiku patted his shoulder, a little awkward but kind. "He follows his emotions, Matthew's abduction was a hard blow to him."

Arthur nodded and met Kiku's dark eyes, but before either of them could say anything more, Seychelles called out for everyone to grab their packs and supplies and help the crew bring the ship to dock. Kiku looked like he wanted to say something else, but Arthur hurried to do what Seychelles ordered. He wormed around the crew and deckhands down to the cabins and hauled out his pack from his room. He double checked his satchels to make sure the maps and charts he wanted were all packed and looked up as Alfred entered the room. He did not smile, but he looked less brooding as he grabbed his own packs from the neat piles Arthur had made the night before. His eyes were bright behind his glasses.

"Finally, right? I feel like we've been stuck on the ship forever." Alfred's voice was light and easy, in direct contrast to the hard line of his jaw and the clenched anticipation in his hands.

Arthur was not sure how to respond, but as it was Alfred solved his problem by swooping in and pressing a hard, lingering kiss to his lips. Hells, please do not let him do anything stupid, he thought, careful to keep the thought to himself and not mouth it where Alfred would hear them through the pendant. The thought of Alfred getting in over his head because he was too caught up in his own anger and grief to care about his well-being was something Arthur worried at constantly. With Alfred so close, his breath pouring into his mouth and filling his head, it was unbearably terrifying. Something of his thoughts must have shown because when Alfred pulled away, his brows furrowed down and his body went soft, pushing aside the anger as he wrapped Arthur up close, his nose pressing down into his messy hair.

"Hey, what's wrong? Aren't you glad to be getting off the boat, even if it's into some judgmental and backwards country? Artie—Arthur, look at me." Arthur blinked and tilted his face out of Alfred's collarbone to meet his eyes, a swell of affection rushing through him at the unfettered and concerned look he met.

Alfred had a hard time letting go of all his hurt and rage, but when he did, it was for Arthur—Arthur did not pretend to misunderstand what that meant. What it meant for him as well – he had never had something so big to lose before. He took a deep breath and let it out in one steady, calming stream, relaxing into Alfred's solid arms and torso. His eyes felt suspiciously wet, but nothing had spilled; he willed himself to calm down and to not get so bloody worked up over something that had not even happened yet. Alfred looked more worried, his hands ghosting up and down Arthur's arms. "Hey now, what - why are you so upset?"

I just—worried, is all.

Alfred tilted back enough to force Arthur's eyes up to meet his. Skepticism was plain for Arthur to see. "Worried? You get all blustery when you're worried, not like this."

It's a different kind of worry. I'll be fine, just been cooped up in the boat too long; starting to make me go a bit barmy.

Alfred didn't believe him and Arthur couldn't fault him for it because fuck he was a piss poor liar, but he didn't press any further.

He kissed Arthur's cheek before he shouldered his packs and offered Arthur a free hand to take. Knowing they would have precious little opportunity for this kind of touch for the near future, Arthur took it without hesitation. He managed a small smile for Alfred, who returned it back, just as fragile as Arthur's composure. "Well, I think we'll be on solid ground for enough time for you to get your moods back under control. You're as bad as a teenager, Artie."

Arthur swatted him, hard, at the tease. Twat.

They made their way up to the deck and helped some of the deckhands tie off the sails as they got closer to their port before gathering with the rest of the landing party. Arthur glanced around and took them all in, trying to see them through eyes that would not be familiar with the west. Britannia was a part of Avrupa, but it was such an insular country that he could admit most other parts of the west he had visited had been a bit of a culture shock at first. Sadiq and Esther looked effortlessly at ease next to each other, which he knew took effort because they had made no qualms how much they loathed one another. Esther was dressed in the most feminine outfit he had ever seen her in before. They looked ready—everyone else? Well, their enthusiasm was at arriving was showing, but not much else.

Francis had on a ridiculously large hat to shield his face from the sun and his face wore a pinched expression every time he shifted his probably too heavy packs. Arthur suspected they were filled with too many of his beauty products and Arthur was not going to pity him in the least. Gilbert looked better prepared, but not by much—to be honest, Arthur knew it did not matter how comfortable or prepared Gilbert was. He was too pale to do anything but stick out in a place like this. Rosa kept pulling at the draping robes that covered nearly all her body—Seychelles was also trying to get comfortable in the robes but at least was being professional about it. Alejandro and Basch looked like they were assassins and kept polishing their weapons. Kiku looked a little hunchbacked with his tail tucked back into his shirt and out of place with his ears pinned down.

As for Alfred, well, he looked a little less like an assassin, but too serious for what was supposed to be a friendly, honeymooning group of friends getting toured through the Byzantium. Arthur adjusted his collar and placed a gentle hand on Alfred's forearm. We're going to attract nothing but stares if we all walk down the streets looking like we're out of blood.

Alfred blinked and glanced at Arthur before taking in everyone else. "Hey guys, maybe tone it down on the faces. We look like we're about to go hunting something."

"We are," Basch's words quirked a little at his mouth.

"Well, yeah, but I thought we agreed to not be super obvious about it, right? Was I the only one who got the message from Esther when she told us to 'get our shit together and don't attract attention'?"

"He's right." Seychelles took another deep breath and stopped fidgeting with her robes. "We're not even going to make it through the city, much less several Byzantium countries, without attracting suspicion as we are now. And for the fuck's sake, Francis, would you empty out your pack of some of those useless creams? We're not vacationing!"

Francis pouted a little, but otherwise did as Seychelles asked—sometimes, Arthur got the feeling that Francis liked being scolded, if a pretty thing was doing the scolding, such as Seychelles, most definitely Seychelles was always preferred.

Arthur heard a voice clear from behind him and met Sadiq's unmasked face, his eyes approving as he nodded at Arthur gratefully – he had clearly seen it was Arthur who had spoken to Alfred. He met the stare but did not respond. Arthur and Sadiq may have met a sort of understanding with one another, but that did not mean Arthur thought he was anything other than a bigoted arse most days. Sadiq chuckled and pushed his way to the front with Esther following close but behind him, showing deference to Sadiq; it was strange to see her do anything submissively. Sadiq turned and met all of their upturned gazes with a hard smile.

"When we get off this dock you will no longer be in Avrupa and must act accordingly. That means if either the Zionite or me tell you to do something, to go somewhere, to bow to someone, you do it without question, is that understood? I've made it too close to Ivan to be stopped now."

Esther nodded, her dark eyes flashing at all of them in warning. "Women, you are to stay in the company of a man at all times, understood? Absolutely no wandering off. Alfred, Arthur, you've already been warned by Sadiq to keep your relationship hidden. I wouldn't avoid one another as that would be just as telling, but no lingering touches, not where you can be seen. Understood?"

Alfred's hand tightened around Arthur's wrist for a moment before he nodded and flashed a big grin at Esther as he deliberately took a big step away from Arthur. "Loud and clear, Esther."

Arthur nodded in his agreement. Esther looked satisfied and bowed her head back down as the ship was finally tied down and chained to the docks. Seychelles gave her first mate instructions before taking her spot beside Francis, who offered out his arm gallantly to her as they headed down the gangway. Arthur took up his stride besides Gilbert and carefully looked around at the faces that stared up at them as they unloaded off the ship. He felt a hot white wave of unease at how intensely they stared—

"Welcome, welcome, travelers to the beautiful city of Herzliya! The jewel of Zion, the capitol of trade and innovation! Now, step lightly and mind your feet, the desert creeps into the city streets no matter how much we try and stave it off; scorpion stings would be a terrible souvenir to bring back home! Careful, careful, come now, our journey is only beginning!" Sadiq's voice lilted, boomed and echoed like a circus master's and a huge smile spread across his face as he waved all of them off the ship. Arthur felt off balance by how effusive Sadiq was acting, and even more so when Esther smiled gently at each of them and clung close to Sadiq's side.

He looked around again and saw that while some people were muttering at them, they were also rolling their eyes and going about their business, ignoring them just as quick as they had noticed them. Maybe this just might work after all.

Gathering supplies and worming their way through Herzliya did not take much time.

Sadiq and Esther worked like a well-oiled machine and got their wagons, horses, pack mules, food and tents, water and large barrels to store extra plus a heap of other things Arthur never considered needing. Esther had old contacts she communicated with to get some army-based medical supplies and bandages and Sadiq haggled with a vendor to get their animal feed at nearly half the price it was selling. It was truly admirable how well they worked together, despite their loathing for one another.

They camped out at an inn Esther's cousin ran for two days and then were ready to head out; it was such a quick turnaround that Arthur's head was still spinning a little, even as he found himself out on the road. They had been traveling for almost a week now and were well outside of Herzliya, heading through the roads that stretched from the city to the Anatolian border. They had been fortunate that Zion and Anatolia were currently in the middle of a cessation of hostilities, otherwise they would have had to gone through Araaba and Persica to reach Ruthenia.

Sadiq's voice boomed and told them of different landmarks and historical events as they rode; Alfred, Basch and Gilbert rode alongside him up front while Alejandro and Kiku rode in the back. Arthur rode in the back as well, but as he was not used to horseback, he was sitting in one of their caravans with all the women and Francis. He had felt a little ashamed until he realized that all the women were pouring over the travel charts and maps and mountaineering techniques. If there was one way that Arthur could distract himself, it was through work.

Their pathway through the Byzantium was a little more winding than Arthur preferred, but there was no helping it. The quickest way would be to go through Anatolia and then Persica but traveling through Persica was out of the question. Esther had learned from her army friends that Persica had a new king on its throne and the country was in the middle of a rebellion. There was no way Avrupans on a touring trip would cut through a country in that much turmoil. As such, they were cutting through Anatolia and then through Bulgar, which bordered Ruthenia on the western side. Bulgar and the trickier passage through the mountains, but they'd probably save travel time since the mountain range ran alongside the border. All in all, Arthur estimated that if they kept pace, didn't suffer any significant delays, they'd reach Ruthenia and the KauKhasis Mountains in a little over seven weeks.

Seven weeks was a long time to travel undercover without any slip-ups.

Arthur scratched out some annotations made by whoever previously owned the Anatolia map and added some new ones based off his newer charts and books detailing the different townships and landmarks in Anatolia. Stamboul* was the largest city in Anatolia and was one of the largest cities in the Byzantium as a whole. He noted the best paths to take on the map and crossed out the ones that his texts told him were in disrepair or too dangerous to use; he was so engrossed in the map that he did not hear Seychelles calling him until she slapped him on the shoulder with an annoyed look. He arched his brow at her and tilted his head to her in question.

"I've been calling your name for at least a minute! Whatever you're doing with the maps cannot be that compelling." Arthur smirked and shrugged his shoulders, brushing aside her criticism. She huffed and Francis gave a little laugh as he settled a comforting hand on her leg. "How can you not be bored out of your mind? Gods above, I didn't think we'd actually be confined to the caravan for the entirety of this blasted road trip!"

Esther shot Seychelles an irked look and rolled her eyes. "I told you—you think a continent that treats women as harshly as I've told you would take kindly to us riding horses brazenly beside the men? Unless we were Zion warriors, which of course we are not, we are supposed to be tourists. The One help me, you are all children."

"It's hot in this blasted wagon, Esther. Hot enough that I can feel these bloody robes sticking to me by my own sweat!"

"The pictures you paint, Chelles, my love, are truly compelling," Francis quipped.

"Your hand feels like a furnace, get it off my leg!"

Rosa grumbled but looked asleep in the corner despite all the yelling from Seychelles. Arthur could understand her discomfort—it was hot enough to taste it and she was dressed in heavy robes.

Esther rolled her eyes again and crossed her arms across her chest, glaring down at her feet. "You'll be missing the heat once we get to Ruthenia—that country is blighted with frigid cold nearly every day of the year. Even in Persican summers, where the temperature climbs so high mirages form in the air, all you must do is travel a little north and you'll be surrounded by snow. It's unnatural."

Arthur glanced up and grabbed his tablet and quill from his bag. He tapped Esther and flashed his tablet at her. You've been to Persica?

Esther nodded. "With my family when I was a child and then again as a warrior with the Zion army. It was there that Ivan found me and stole my speed—I was nearly killed by Persican insurgents in the aftermath."

The caravan fell silent at her words and Arthur turned back to his charts. He was marking up a caravan crossing that looked promising when he heard shouts coming from outside the caravan—the shouts were not from any voices he knew. Rosa was up from her nap quicker than a cat and he found himself following everyone else out of the caravan—they moved with experience, like this was something they were used to.

In the last six months he had been with the Evangeline crew, Arthur had been given weapons training on a weekly basis, but he hadn't been in a battle with the crew before. Arthur had heard stories, of course, of when the crew had been in brawls and fights and sea battles, but Arthur had begun to believe those were mostly exaggerated since here had not been anything even close to resembling a fight the entire time he had traveled with them. Sure, there had been the scuffle in the Spandow brothels, but that had not really been a fight.

Outside the caravan though, now that was a fight—and everyone but him seemed to know exactly what to do and how to do it.

Arthur could tell by the face scarves that it was likely bandits who were attacking them and not Ivan's lackeys. This comforted him a little until he noticed the bandits were all carrying weapons. And his long knife was strapped to his pack on his damn horse, which was currently about three bandits away—bloody fantastic. One of the bandits looked his way, noticed he had nothing but charts in his hands—why the bloody nine hells was he still carrying those?!—and decided he'd made an easy target. He rushed him with a muffled war-cry, a curved sword raised high above his head.

Arthur may not have become the most skilled swordsman in the past eight months, but that didn't mean he hadn't gotten into his fair few bar brawls with men who were either larger, smarter, or carrying knives in Britannia. He knew how to handle himself against a flailing mammoth.

He dropped his charts to the ground and he crouched down to his heels, driving his shoulder into the charging bandit's stomach at full force, which sent him flying backwards. Arthur rolled towards the bandit while he was still trying to reorient himself and pressed his knee against the man's throat, locking him in place so that he could grab his forgotten sword and hit the bandit across the temple with the pommel. He went limp immediately and Arthur scrambled to his feet just in time to jump away from bandit number two, who apparently had taken it upon himself to avenge his fallen comrade.

Arthur danced away from the man's sloppy thrusts and slashes but could not find a window to try and take the man down himself. His foot slipped on a rock as he was trying to twist behind the bandit and he went down hard, landing nearly all his weight on his wrist. He rolled up onto his back and found the bandit leveling his sword straight at him, his eyes wild and pinpricked in his battle-lust, but before he could swing the sword down, an arrow caught the bandit straight through the heart and he went down like a sack of potatoes. Arthur blinked and hurriedly got back to his feet, tucking his wrist against his chest, the fingers from his other hand wrapped loosely around the pommel of the curved sword he had taken off the first bandit. Esther lowered the bow, her eyes dark and flinty as she stared down the bandit corpse.

He took a deep breath and looked around through the dusty air—most of the bandits were defeated (dead his mind whispered) and their group looked fine, but—but there were bodies and red all in the dirt and Arthur swallowed back the bile he felt pushing at the back of his throat. The bandits had clearly outnumbered them, but they had taken them to be a defenseless touring group; the result of that mistake was littered in the ground all around their caravans. He tore his eyes away from the bodies and the red and started when he felt a hand touch his shoulder. He found Seychelles, dirty and smudged with someone else's blood, watching him carefully.

"Are you all right, Arthur? Your wrist—let me see it, looks dislocated."

Arthur held it out for her to inspect and watched as Gilbert, Basch, and Alejandro started taking supplies off the dead bandits before dragging them off the road. Rosa and Esther were up the road, Arthur could not see what they were doing, and Kiku was gathering back up their horses and pack mules while Francis helped him. He spotted Sadiq through the settling dust, cleaning off his sword with an already soiled rag; he caught Arthur's eyes and his eyes bore darkly into him. Alfred was heading towards them, looking ragged but a little less bloody than others; his eyes were bright an unhindered by his glasses, which Arthur could see tucked into his shirt.

"Arthur, are you—?"

"He's fine, Al, just a little dislocated wrist, nothing Kiku won't be able to splint—you, however, got tackled off your horse to the ground. Any broken bones I should know about?" Seychelles turned her attention to Alfred, who was still completely focused on Arthur, worry and relief plain on his face.

"Nah, I'm fine I—"

"Live one."

Arthur turned to see Sadiq standing over the man Arthur had knocked out. Seychelles and Alfred both left Arthur and headed towards the man. Arthur felt something cold and heady settle in his head and he felt the bile trying to make a comeback. 'Live one'…that did not sound sympathetic at all and Arthur had a ringing moment of clarity that this was probably no one's first time killing. No one looked especially happy about what they had done, but Arthur knew he was the only one having an internal crisis from all the dead bodies—he was probably the only one out of the whole group who hadn't been trying to kill the bandits who were so obviously trying to kill him.

He felt something else settle in his stomach at that thought, something that he had not felt in a long time—shame.

"Arthur took his sword—I'd tie him to a tree and be done with it." Esther's voice was cool and collected and she stepped past Arthur towards the fallen bandit.

"Ah, but he's not like the other bandits, see that?" Sadiq tilted the man's head up to reveal a mark on his neck—it looked like a sunflower tattoo. Arthur was not sure what it meant, but the curses and gasps gave way that it was something bad. "This one is one of Ivan's. Probably just chance this spy happened to find us, but we can't risk him talking."

Arthur knew what was going to happen before it did; Sadiq's words and intent were not met with any resistance and all four of them were tense as they stared down at the bandit who was apparently a spy of Ivan Braginski. He was, however, surprised when it was not Sadiq who raised his sword and ran the man through—a loud bang from a pistol rang through and the bandit, the spy, was dead.

Alfred was finished and slinging his pistol back over his shoulder before Arthur could really process it and he stared as Alfred glared down at the dead spy on the ground.

Esther looked a little surprised but made an approving noise before turning towards where Kiku and Francis were adding the additional supplies the others had pulled off the dead. Seychelles, also surprised but concern in her eyes as well, placed a comforting hand on Alfred's arm before she followed Esther—Alfred took a deep breath, glanced up to meet Arthur's eyes. There was a silence completely new and foreign to them before Alfred's face fell and shuttered; he turned away from Arthur as well.

Sadiq walked towards him and leaned in close to Arthur as he came up horizontal to him. "This is a war we are fighting, Mr. Kirkland. I'd shed some of that compassion and get used to the idea that your hands are going to be as dirtied as everyone else by the time this is over, if you want to win against Ivan."

He continued past and Arthur could smell the sharp tang of iron in his wake. He did not bother trying to fight the bile after that.

*Stamboul - former name for Istanbul.

Poor, poor bookish!Arthur. Got some angst heading your way, boo.

Next Update - 6/3/2021