Chapter Ten: Enemy Identified
He stares into the mug of ale, his head swimming just a bit, as if he is floating. The foam dissipates slowly until it reveals an amber liquid the same color of her eyes—
With a groan Escanor drops his forehead to the counter with a thunk. Is this how it's going to be from now on? Seeing her everywhere? He scoops up the ale and drains it as that idea settles painfully in his chest, and for the hundredth time he wonders if he should just suck it up and go back. It is an argument he has had with himself in the hours since leaving the tavern, even twice doubling back to go after them before turning around and walking away again.
This tavern is crowded but does not have the same frenetic energy of the Boar Hat. Instead, it is subdued, which suits Escanor just fine. He had a terrible night's sleep; the first one without Merlin nearby in more than two weeks, he had realized, as he made a solo camp for the night. His agitation had kept him on his own until after noontime passed, not wanting the newly regained power that was itching to come out of his skin to cause a problem. Once the afternoon hit, Escanor had headed straight for the next town to find some ale or even some company.
It is normal to feel so badly after saying goodbye to someone, he argues with himself. Even now, loneliness he had not experienced since being exiled settles on his shoulders, tapping for his attention on occasion. It's just that he was around people for the first time in a long time. It was the first time he had someone else to care about—
Escanor shakes his head and signals the bartender for another. He doesn't care about Merlin. Didn't. Wouldn't. This isn't some kind of break up. They weren't even friends.
With a sigh he gratefully hands over a copper for the fresh mug. He is far from intoxicated, but is feeling the pressure much less, and for that at least he is grateful. For a moment Escanor even considers joining one of the groups playing at darts or trying to catch the eye of one of the girls. Yet as he looks over his hunched shoulders and surveys the room, the idea feels even more hollow and leaves him shifting on the stool.
His eye catches something strange and familiar, and Escanor turns a bit to look over the crowd. There—a flash of pale pink, and his brows draw down as he recognizes the owner. Gilthunder sits at a table at the other end of the bar, locked in deep conversation with another man. His companion is broad, dark haired, and dressed in almost royal clothing. Gilthunder, too, has changed: no longer the eager and optimistic knight, now he frowns deeply and seems to be arguing with the other.
He watches them as he sips his drink, and when the glass is once again empty the bartender wanders over. "Another?" he asks.
"Yes," Escanor answers. "Can you tell me, are those knights over there? One looks familiar and I wonder how I know him."
The bartender glances over before busying himself with pouring his drink. "That's the Grand Master, Great Holy Knight Dreyfus. He's in charge now. Probably why you recognize him." He sets the drink down in front of Escanor and leans in to say quietly, "Wouldn't be asking questions if I was you. Have your drink and move on."
Escanor swallows thickly. The Grand Master? If that is true, then he is the one who is responsible for the king's death and the death of his daughters. He is the one who has sent Elizabeth into hiding and put Liones under this military rule. Why is Gilthunder sitting in a tavern with him?
This ale is now his fourth, so he nurses it a bit more, wishing he could hear their conversation. Every once in a while he glances back to make sure they are still there, and luckily Gilthunder has not noticed him. Escanor mulls over what to do—do the others need to be warned? The three knights are working undercover and going about their duties to gather information, that much he knows. But… there is something strange about this, and every time he glances over and sees the stricken expression on Gil's face he becomes more and more sure that something is going on.
Escanor taps his fingers on the wood of the counter. Should he go warn them? He is less than a day from Vaizel, he could make it there tonight if he hurried. Would they believe him? Would Merlin? He grows heated under the collar to imagine her face if he showed up there again, bringing news that they may be betrayed. Is it worth it?
Do you even care? he thinks to himself, and it is immediately followed by, yes. God damn it all, I do care.
He takes a deep breath and knocks back the rest of the ale, his resolve now set. He will slip out without notice and return to the Boar Hat, and if Merlin sends him away… well, Escanor will deal with that when it comes.
He moves to stand when a hand comes down on his shoulder, making him jump. "Hey! I know yous!"
Escanor turns in surprise to see a man with a large red nose and a messy head of curled hair sneering at him. "I know yous!" he says again.
His breath and his watery grin tell Escanor exactly how inebriated the man is. "I don't think so," he says. "Now if you'll excuse me."
"Yeah! Yeah, yous were that guy!" Escanor tries to maneuver around, but the man thumps him on the chest. Then he shouts louder than he looks capable of doing, "I saw yous! Hey Levy, comes see!"
"What?" the one presumably Levy yells in reply from somewhere in the tavern.
"I said, comes see!"
"See what?!"
"See the guy!"
"What guy?"
"Don't trouble yourself, Levy!" Escanor calls. The conversations around them have tapered off as patrons turn to see the source of the raised voices. He pushes to his feet, knocking the man back a bit. "Really, you have the wrong person," he insists.
Yet as he turns towards the door, Escanor finds several people have stepped up, and now he faces Levy straight on. "Whose yous?" he asks, hands on hips, the one tooth in his mouth bent a bit to the left.
"No one," he answers.
"No, yeah!" Levy's friend pats his arm. "Don'tcha remembers? He's the guy! Who drank with that other guy! Remember now?"
Levy frowns as Escanor's eyes go wide. "I don't think—"
"Wait, yous right!" Levy glares at Escanor. "Yous cost me a lot of money that night. Yous were supposed to lose."
Levy's voice holds a trace of a threat, but Escanor cannot help the little snort that comes out. "I think if you saw me the next morning, you'd know I had lost quite a bit."
"See! I told yous!" The hand on his arm smacks him hard as he winces. Why did he admit that? "This is the guy!"
A bit of a crowd has now gathered, watching as the two men argue very animatedly about who knew who was who first. Finally Levy growls at him, "Yous cost me three silvers. I want to be paid."
Escanor frowns. "I'm not paying you. Your fault for making a bad bet."
Levy bristles. "Yous didn't look like nothing! So pay me up or tell me where that place is—what was it? The Boar Head?"
"No, the Bad Hat," his friend says.
"No!" someone else chimes in. "I've heard of that place! The Bored Hut!"
"It's the Boar Hat, you morons." Everyone, including Escanor, turns to the sound of that voice. It rings with unmistakable authority, that even the most foregone drunkards sit up a bit straighter.
Escanor takes a step back and bumps into the stool behind him as the Grand Master approaches. He holds his breath under the knight's scrutiny; then Dreyfus reaches out and grabs Levy by the throat. "You've been to the Boar Hat, you say?" he asks him, but his eyes never leave Escanor.
"Yes—y-yes, s-sir—" Levy chokes. "The uh—it was in Dalmary but—it's gone now and—"
Dreyfus sends him flying, and the other patrons scurry back, many heading for the door. Escanor presses his lips together, staring at the knight. "That wasn't necessary," he says.
"I have no patience for foolish men," answers the knight. "Now explain what he was saying. You've been there too?"
"I… um…" Escanor clears his throat as he sees Gilthunder step up behind the Grand Master. Gilthunder's expression is stoic, cold enough without a hint of a clue that Escanor wonders if he remembers him at all. "I have been, but not for days."
"Where," Dreyfus demands.
His hands clench. He can't tell him, that much is clear; but if he refuses, even more trouble will come. Escanor can feel the knight's power, which he does nothing to mask. There is a tinge to the power he does not recognize, something that leaves a taste of copper in his mouth. The hair on the back of his neck stands up as he tries to assess his power level, but it is impossible with whatever it is that clings to the Grand Master.
The Grand Master is using demon magic.
"Bellford," Escanor answers. "It was heading—"
"He's lying." His eyes snap up to Gilthunder, who now stands shoulder to shoulder with the Grand Master. "There's no way they would leave Liones."
His heart plummets as he stares at the knight, searching for a sign of warning. Escanor had held out hope that Gilthunder was acting under the orders of the resistance, but now it is obvious they are betrayed. "I'm not sure where your intelligence came from," Escanor says slowly, "but I assure you, I left them in Bellford."
"They were in Dalmary three days ago and Bellford is a five days' journey from here," Gilthunder says. "How did you get here so quickly then?"
"Fairy magic," Escanor replies.
"Enough," Dreyfus says. "Holy Knight Gilthunder, arrest this man. And anyone else who knows of this Boar Hat tavern here." He turns and scoffs at the men frozen in fear as they watch. "They can sit in jail until their memories return."
The crowd parts for the Grand Master on his way to the door; but Escanor is ready. As Gilthunder moves towards him, he pulls his knife and ducks, rolling underneath him and taking the knight to the ground. Gilthunder quickly recovers and they stand face-to-face, the customers that remain giving them a wide berth.
Escanor can feel that Gilthunder is powerful, yet he has no doubt he can keep himself from being arrested and make a getaway. But the tavern and those in it may be torn to pieces in the process. "Shall we take this outside?" Escanor says.
"No." The power inside of him reacts as Gilthunder pulls his sword. A bolt of electricity is sent his way, but Escanor easily avoids it; another comes on its tail, and as he dodges the side of the tavern blasts outwards. There are screams around them as the patrons run for the doors and the new hole in the wall, but Escanor smiles. He can hear and see everyone, and can easily sense Gilthunder's moves as the knight sends one attack after another.
The two continue to fight, Gilthunder's sword singing as he sends one flash of lightning after another, Escanor using everything he can get his hands on to block the blows. As predicted, within minutes the tavern is a mess of splinters and glass. It is a bit of a challenge to keep a step ahead of the knight, yet he realizes how much he had missed being able to fight like this since Merlin took his magic.
The thought of Merlin pulls his attention for a split second, but it is long enough for Gilthunder's weapon to nearly catch him. Escanor tilts and avoids it just in time to keep from being run through, but earns a slice through his shirt and vest. Deciding to go on offense, he pulls his knife and parries the next swipe of the sword. "Why are you doing this?" he shouts, aiming a punch at the knight.
He connects with his chest, and Gilthunder stumbles. Escanor takes the opportunity to land a few more blows, until he stands over the knight, who is on one knee and wiping the blood from his mouth. He is glad it is not midday, knowing that fighting someone so powerful would stir that other part of him a bit too much. Despite Gilthunder's betrayal, he wants an explanation more than revenge.
"Tell me why," Escanor demands.
Gilthunder looks up at him, his eyes now sharp. He can see what can only be described as despair inside of them: along with anger, and determination, and a cold steel. "If you loved someone, you'd understand."
Escanor blanches, pulling back from hitting him again. Despite the desire to finish this—and even though his daytime self is safely tucked away, his pride has him wanting revenge for Elizabeth—Gil's words strike a chord inside him as he thinks again of Merlin.
Merlin—he has to get to her, to warn her that they are betrayed.
Escanor spins on his heel and bolts for the door. Outside the crowds have mostly scattered, a few stragglers helping friends who were unlucky enough to be still in the tavern when Gilthunder's attack began He spies a man with a horse and runs over. "I need that!" he shouts.
"Get off yous—hey!"
Flinging the bag of coins Merlin had given him at the man, he catches him in the eye with it and knocks him backwards. Escanor shouts a "Sorry!" as he yanks the reins away and climbs on the horse. Then they are off with a flick of the leather, the wind flying past his face furiously as he heads towards the road to Vaizel.
The city is positively swarmed with people, and Escanor reins in the horse as they enter the outskirts. Vaizel is built along the side of a large hill, the buildings set along intricately designed roads that zigzag among the mismatched buildings that dot the landscape, many of which built directly out of the side of the rock. His heart pounds with memories of the place, the last time had seen a crowd forming in front of the buildings, ready to exact justice on a spoiled prince who had murdered his own family. Yet his resolve keeps him steady as he guides the horse through the throng of people.
He scans the storefronts for the tavern signs, wondering where the Boar Hat could have settled in all this mess. Finally it becomes too burdensome to be riding a horse in the city, and Escanor dismounts, patting the horse's neck as he debates his next move. It had taken only an hour or so to ride to Vaizel pushing the horse as much as he dared, yet there is no telling if he was followed, or when Gilthunder would lead the other Holy Knights there.
A boy no more than twelve or thirteen hurries over, giving him a bow. "Good evening, sir! Need a groom for the horse?"
He looks down at the mop of red hair and scrawny limbs with a huff. "You own a stable then, young master?"
"My pop has one over there." Escanor follows where the boy's finger points. "We can serve two dozen now that the festival is on. A silver a night for the full service."
Escanor winces. "I uh… I don't have any money," he replies sheepishly, thinking of the small bag socking the poor fellow's face as he stole his horse.
"Oh, that's okay!" the boy answers. "You're a shoo-in to win for sure! I've never seen anyone as big as you!"
"Win? Win what?"
The boy laughs and shakes his head. "The Fighting Festival! Isn't that why you're here? It's why everyone else is here!"
Signs are hung advertising the annual Fighting Festival, but Escanor had paid them no mind, only spotting them now as he looks around. "Actually, I'm looking for my friends. They run a tavern with a boar as their symbol."
The boy scratches his chin. "Never heard of a boar bar. Hey! That's funny!" he laughs with a snap of his fingers.
"Hey! Boy!" Someone bellows across the street, making the boy jump. "Get your good-for-nothing ass back here now!"
"That's pop," he winces. "So do you wanna put your horse up? You can pay after you win."
"I uh…" Escanor glances at the horse, then hands the boy the reins. "Sure thing. And if I don't, you can keep him."
"Wow? Really?" He blinks up at Escanor with a reverent smile, patting the horse on the nose. "I don't know, I never had anything as nice as this."
But Escanor is only half-listening, looking around and trying to decide his next move. "If you lost someone, where would you go? Where do people meet around here?"
The boy gently rubs the side of the horse's neck as he thinks. "Well, everyone is going to the Festival sign-ups tonight. They announce the contestants so betting can begin, and there's the first elimination round. You might want to see if your friends are there."
He gives him directions to the center of town, and Escanor gives his thanks. "What is your name?" he asks.
"Arthur," the boy answers cheerfully. "Good luck in the festival!" He leads the horse away and Escanor heads into the crowd.
After spending years alone, the hundreds of people now surrounding him begins to test his resolve. He looks up at the sky to find there is still plenty of afternoon left, yet his confidence in his decision to return to Vaizel wavers. Escanor can feel his lungs grow tighter as the crowd now moves up the side of the hill and towards the center of the festival. It it tight, nearly suffocating, as they move in one direction along the streets.
The people mob around a large flat bit of the hillside, that Escanor realizes will be the platform for the fighting. The bettors call their wagers to the agents who take the official bets while even more do their own bit of gambling on the side. It is nearly impossible to see with people surrounding on all sides, but he must do something to find the others.
Horns blast, calling the crowd to attention, and a short man with an unusually high pitched voice calls out, "Attention! Ladies and gentleman, it is time for the first round of the Vaizel Fighting Festival to begin!"
"Gods be damned," mutters Escanor as he tries to elbow his way through. His goal is to get to the highest ground as possible to look as well as he can among the sea of faces, if he can just get out of the center of the crowd.
"Let all those who wish to enter come forward!"
Even more jostling begins, and Escanor is knocked to the side and bumps into someone. "Pardon me," he mutters, finding himself facing one of the betting officials.
He looks Escanor up and down with his brows raised. "Hey, you heading up there? Go on, it's that way!" he says rather helpfully.
"No, no, I'm not—I'm not fighting—"
But the man takes no heed, shouting, "Everyone move! I have a winner coming through!" Escanor finds himself pushed towards the platform despite his protests, the people surrounding them clapping, some calling for his name so they can wager on him.
"No, stop!" The men guarding the perimeter haul him up onto the stage; Escanor now stands on the fighting platform itself, the other three dozen or so men turning to glare at him and his large stature. He turns to look for a way off when he hears his name.
"Escanor! Wow, you made it!"
"Meliodas!" he cries. Sure enough, the boy appears, flanked by both Gowther and Ban. "What are you doing here?"
Meliodas laughs. "We're here for the festival, of course! We'll get more customers at the tavern if we get through at least a few rounds. They'll want to come and see us up close. Not that I'm worried or anything." As if to prove his point, he flexes his arms a bit.
"Thought you were leaving," Ban says suspiciously.
"I was. Am. Did. But I ran into Gilthunder, and—"
"Little Gil?" Meliodas frowns. "Here, in Vaizel? He said he didn't want to come here."
"No, no, at a tavern. Listen!" It's getting harder to speak the louder the crowd goes, but Escanor hurries on, "I saw him with the Grand Master. I think he is plotting to come here and find Elizabeth!"
Meliodas shakes his head, patting his arm with a grin. "Don't be silly. Gil wouldn't be plotting against us. You probably misunderstood."
He frowns, thinking of the look in Gilthunder's eye, full of danger and pain. "I don't think so. I think—"
"Let's talk about this later!" Meliodas shouts. "I can barely hear you."
"Damn it all!" fumes Escanor. "Would you listen to me?"
But Ban and Meliodas have turned away to talk as the announcer calls for any remaining players. Escanor grabs Gowther by the arm and pulls him close enough to ask, "Where is Merlin?"
Gowther says something, but there is another blast of trumpets and he cannot hear over the din. The crowd roars as Gowther points, and Escanor turns to the spot to see Merlin standing at the edge of the stage.
Her eyes are on him, absolutely furious, and he feels trapped under them. They seem a bit red, whether from lack of sleep or—and damn him to hell if this is true—from crying. He steps forward and calls her name, not knowing if she can hear, but before the word has left his lips she spins and pushes her way through the crowd, away from the stage.
"Merlin! Merlin, wait!" he screams, hurrying to the edge. But before he can jump off, there is another blast of trumpet, and the call, "Let the Fighting Festival begin!"