Here we are with another chapter.
Beta: College Fool
Cover Art: Dishwasher1910
Book 5: Chapter 14
It was technically the second siege I had been a part of, and yet this felt very different to Mistral, larger both in the scale of the fortifications and the army of Grimm attacking us. Magnis' walls were giant, requiring either ladders or siege towers to scale, and there were far more of them winding off to the left and right, wrapping around the houses with an inner-wall surrounding the keep itself. We were all of us spread out and I'd not seen a familiar face for a good hour or two. I did hear their voices occasionally, and since none were raised in screams of agony or grief, had to assume everyone was okay.
My eyes continued to glow a faint blue with no discernible effects to me or my fighting as I methodically chopped through a Grimm that had mounted the wall before me, ramming my shoulder into its body so that it would die off the wall and not be a tripping hazard as it dissolved into nothingness. In a rare moment of calm, I stopped to catch my breath, panting harshly as I looked over the situation.
Though the Grimm had neither siege towers nor ladders and couldn't have hoped to scale the sheer walls, they had their own methods, and it was both simply brutal and foolish at the same time. The first waves of Grimm had hit the wall and started to attack it – not that their claws could do anything. The second and third had been the same, piling up at the base uselessly and doing more damage to themselves than to us.
But they had formed a foundation. As more tried to push in against the walls, they inevitably stood on the shoulders and bodies of their fellows, cutting a little higher, and this continued on and on until the Grimm had somehow formed a ramp of their own bodies, each fighting to clamber over the other until they'd actually reached the top of the walls.
I refused to believe that was strategy or intent on their part, not with how some of the Grimm below snarled and snapped at their fellows, but whatever the case it worked, and they'd been atop the walls in matter of twenty minutes.
But to my surprise, it wasn't the massacre Stoneskeep had been. When the Grimm breached the walls, they were met not with ill-equipped or inexperienced defenders, but two forces who were glut on war, fresh from rest and better equipped and levelled for having survived recent conflict. Though they were still nothing compared to us Heroes, they were able to hold their own – at least for now. It took three or four soldiers to hold off each Grimm, but we had the advantage of being on the walls already, while the Grimm had to rush up piecemeal.
Still, that advantage wasn't going to last. The more Grimm that formed a foothold, the worse it would be, and sooner or later the Soldiers would be overwhelmed and then the true killing would begin. With that in mind, I shucked off my fatigue and hurried in towards a new pocket that had formed, a Beowolf threatening six Soldiers with its claws, they in return fending it off with spear and sword.
"Heads up," I called in warning, ducking under one spearman from behind and slipping into the melee. A claw rushed in for my face, but I swayed aside and caught the second on Crocea Mors, pushing it aside. A spear slipped past me, gouging the beast's face as the Soldier's chipped in as best they could. It wasn't needed but any help at this point was appreciated. If my stamina waned, we would be in trouble. Luckily, the attack distracted the beast long enough for me to disengage and push under its barrel chest, driving my sword deep into its bowels. It froze and retched, before it stumbled back and pulled itself free of me by weight alone.
"Thanks," one of the Soldiers, a woman whose face was slick with sweat, panted. Blood ran from a cut above her eye that looked far grislier than I was comfortable with.
"Will you be okay?" I asked.
"I'll be fine." She might not be, but I translated that as meaning `I'll have to be fine`, since there wouldn't be any rest and every weapon was needed to stem the tide. Her fellow soldiers were little better.
With a nod, I was off again, to the next engagement. That was my task, to run along the walls and offer my aid everywhere, as opposed to hunkering down and fortifying one spot. While I wasn't used to such mobile fighting, at least not as much as Ruby, Blake or Ren were, I could see the value. We didn't need to hold one spot indefinitely, but rather to hold everywhere for long enough for reinforcements to arrive.
Three Canis provided a brief distraction as I cut into them, kicking one off the body of a Valean Soldier before it could bite down. A quick look proved I was too late, the man already gone and staring up at me with a face covered in blood and teeth marks. It should have horrified but it didn't. I met his soulless gaze and sighed, catching one Canis and hurling it off the walls to tumble down the ramp, tripping up several more Grimm ascending. The second was cut in two, and the third fell to a pair of Soldiers from Mistral, with one distracting it while the other drove an axe into its back.
They met my gaze and slammed hands to their breastplates in a salute, as they all had whenever I came to help. I returned the gesture without thinking, even if I didn't know exactly what it meant. Some Mistral symbol of respect, perhaps. They seemed to be holding out better than the Vale Soldiers, but then they'd known a war was coming – being the aggressors – and had probably been in training and drills all through the winter while Vale was busy breaking its ass with diplomatic missions and treaty options. Funny how that would have pissed me off before, yet now I was grateful for it. We needed their discipline.
Down below, in the courtyard, Corvo and Grey fought side by side along with their retinue of lieutenants and bodyguards – the very best of the Soldier Caste in both armies. They were holding the courtyard beneath me, right at the main gate – which had buckled under the force of the Grimm, as we'd known it would. While repeated blows couldn't move solid stone, the thick wood had proved vulnerable.
The defenders had not, however. These weren't fresh recruits or hastily trained teenagers, but veterans of previous skirmishes, battles or Grimm incursions. In truth, they might even have been on a similar level to ourselves and as I'd shown through my own actions, Caste had very little to do with fighting ability. With so many of them down there, it was a gross over-concentration of power, but then they had to contend with far more Grimm than we did. They were holding, at least. That was a relief.
"Jaune!" Ren caught me fifteen minutes of Grimm-killing later. The Monk had a bruise on the side of his face and favoured his left leg a little more than the right, but other than that seemed unharmed. "Weiss is out."
My heart stilled. "She fell!?"
"No, she's out of energy. You know she can't fight well in melee. She was stuck using her spells and those drained her. She's pulled back to the keep to catch her breath."
The relief I felt was short lived, especially once I realised that left another hole in our defences. It wasn't her fault; Weiss literally couldn't fight any other way, but it was still reducing our power by an eighth and given that we had to hold four walls that would leave someone on their own. Ren and I had the West, and though I couldn't recall who was on Weiss', I had a feeling I knew who would try and take it on their own, and Ren confirmed it.
"Blake's going to try and hold the eastern wall on her own. She's best suited for it with her speed and stealth."
She was, and I had to accept that despite the pit that opened up in my stomach. Blake was strong, stronger than I, and I had no right to feel like she needed my help. She didn't. Besides, these weren't normal fights but us running to and fro, stepping into engagements for a minute or two before moving on. That was the kind of combat an Assassin would excel at.
"How are you doing on your stretch?" I asked.
"Well enough." Ren's exhaustion said otherwise. "But you – are you holding?"
"I'm fine."
"Your eye; are you using some kind of Skill?"
"Something like that." I paused to stab a Grimm through the skull, Ren doing the same to another on the other side, deflecting its claws with one blade before he slit its throat with the other, kicking back in a flip to knock its dying body away. "It's nothing to worry about," I said, not sure what my eyes meant at all. Was I subconsciously using a Blacksmithing skill without realising it? I had no idea if that was even possible, let alone if I could do it or how. Now wasn't really the time to worry about it, either. "Have you seen the others?"
"I saw Pyrrha on the corner to the north. She's fine. She said Ruby was, too."
Good enough and the best I'd get at this point. Nora and Yang held the south and those two were strong enough to hold their own. Realistically, if anyone was going to be the first to die it was me, so I figured I didn't have to worry too much about grievous news.
Ren and I split up again a moment later, our moment of rest broken by cries of fright from further down the walls in both directions. I reached mine in time to dispatch a lizard-like Grimm and provide six Soldiers some much needed relief, but I was called further on for some more Grimm within seconds. The tide never stopped.
Behind me, a bell began to toll loudly. It came from one of the biggest buildings in the main keep, a large temple-like structure of some kind atop a flight of steps. It probably wasn't, given that Vale had no state religion, but it might have been something from olden times. At the very sound of the bell, cries of panic began to arouse from the houses below.
"What's happening?" I asked a nearby Soldier.
"It's an evacuation," he replied, gasping for breath and holding a wound in his side. "The bell means all NPCs are to go back to the keep and abandon the main town. I guess we're falling back to the inner walls."
We were? Well, I'd heard nothing from Grey or Corvo, but I supposed that was fair given how busy we all were. From my position on the walls I could see Soldiers streaming off the inner walls to guide people inside, holding the gates while throngs of people made their way through the streets. It would take at least an hour to get them all inside, and we'd be expected to buy that time before we had to retreat. The question of how we'd retreat while the Grimm were trying to eat us alive went unexplained. Some would fall during it, I knew.
A messenger caught me not twenty minutes later, basically to pass on what I already knew about the evacuation. "We're stretched thin," he explained. "It took me this long to catch up with you and the other one, the Monk."
Considering catching us involved fighting one's way across a wall filled with Soldiers and Grimm, I could well believe it. "Who called the retreat?"
"It was Commander Sullivan, sir. He and the Mistral Commander are going to hold the gate when the time comes, and he's asked you and the other Heroes to be the last ones on the walls while the Soldiers fall back."
The messenger certainly had balls to suggest that, though he probably assumed we wouldn't punish him for what sounded very much like a suicide quest. Ren and I couldn't hold an entire wall to ourselves, but then we weren't supposed to. We were just meant to draw the Grimm's attention – all of them – while the other Soldiers retreated. Wonderful.
"He said if anyone can break off and retreat safely in the thick of battle, it would be you Heroes."
He wasn't wrong. It was a thankless and dangerous task, but if anyone could manage it, it would be us. I just didn't like our chances, nor the idea of Blake playing bait for an entire quarter of the Grimm horde.
But what could we do?
"Alright, fine. I take it I'll know the signal when it comes?"
"Three horn's blasts," the messenger reported, rushing off to pass the order along.
My attention turned back to the Grimm.
/-/
Keeping accurate track of time was impossible, but it was somewhere between my second and third wind, when I wasn't even sure what dredges of energy I was running on, that the horns sounded. There were muted cheers from the Soldiers, who sensed with it a chance to catch their breath and recuperate, but only a grim silence from myself. While they retreated, and for the duration of it, I'd have to hold the wall alone with Ren. It was a task for someone like Cinder, a superpowered Class with a ridiculous trump card. Not a Blacksmith.
The horn sounded past three times, determined to get its message out as torches were waved from the inner walls, signalling the retreat. The main gates of Magnis were large and wide, able to fit multiple carts through, but the inner wall only had two, and those were much smaller, capable of being held by two people if required. The Grimm would just come over the walls again, but they'd have to make another ramp of their own bodies and that would put a lot more Grimm out of action.
But we had to buy the Soldiers time first. "Go on," I called, wanting to get it over with lest my flagging stamina fail entirely. "Fall back. We'll cover you. Hurry!"
They caught the message and began to file away, crowding on the staircases while more slid down wooden ladders affixed to the inside of the walls. It wasn't instantaneous, and we'd have surely fallen if it was, but I felt the gradual shift of Soldiers. It was obvious in the sudden influx of Grimm I had to contend with.
One fell as I cut through it, another hamstrung and left to crawl around – sufficiently dealt with for now. There were few Ancient Grimm among them and that was to my benefit, since a single Ursa would have spelled doom for us. I was sure I could take one now, being far higher level than I had been back when I started Beacon, but I was also exhausted and running on fumes. Even a Beowolf was a problem right now.
Luckily, the wave of chaff held true, the Ursa below being too heavy to make it up the Grimm ramp properly and thus slipping and falling into it as they crushed Grimm beneath them. It was the lighter ones, the less-dangerous ones, who scaled it with ease. But quantity had a quality of its own, and as the full weight of their attention began to bear down on me, my sword couldn't be everywhere at once.
A claw caught my flank, under my ribs, finding a spot between my armour and tearing through cloth and skin. The wound was superficial, and I pulled away from it, not even able to kill the offending Grimm for the Canis trying to tear out my throat. It was all I could do to keep Crocea Mors roughly central to my body, protecting the important parts as I was surrounded. Something hit my armour from behind, knocking me forward. A claw rushed for my face, and though I was able to lean back, it still nicked my cheek, under my left eye, and sprayed blood upwards.
I couldn't hold it. There were just too many. I slid Crocea Mors into the body of one, but three more weighed down on it, not enough to drag the sword from my grip, but enough to make my defence sluggish. Teeth bit down on my shoulder from behind, a snarling head flush against mine as the Canis shook its entire body to try and tear a huge chunk of meat from me. Against all odds, that helped me, providing a buffer from attacks for a few seconds – not that the Grimm cared. They tore into their own to get to me. The mass was overwhelming.
And then, the wind rustled. Sharp blades of visible wind kicked up around me, cutting in a circular pattern and tearing several Grimm to shreds. Those that weren't were blasted back, and the second's reprieve gave me the time to pry my sword free, even as the already dead Canis gnawing on my shoulder dissolved. Sadly, my wounds didn't.
"Thanks," I gasped, nodding to Ren. "You saved me."
"Looked like you needed it," the Monk quipped. "Watch out!" He slipped over my shoulder to engage some Grimm, while I turned and did the same to his back, the two of us creating a pocket of resistance in a storm of black flesh and bone masks. "We'll never hold," Ren yelled over the growls and roars.
"We have to," I returned.
"We can't. I'm all but spent and you're on the verge of death."
"I'm fine."
"Damn it, Jaune, you're not!" Ren roared. "Look at you – you're like a river of blood."
I wanted to say that none of it was mine but knew Ren would call bullshit, not to mention I didn't have the time, quickly pressed by a Beowolf which had scaled the walls. Ren was right; I was badly hurt, and the latest attack hadn't helped much. My left shoulder could barely move, something – the muscles, certainly – torn through.
But he wasn't much better. Ren might have moved like his leg didn't bother him, but the gash there – deep enough to reveal muscle – showed otherwise.
"Are the Soldiers far enough away?" I gasped, struggling to hold back the Beowolf. Not quite an Ancient Grimm but somewhere in the middle, I tried to parry its claws and failed, but failed so badly that instead of skewering me, it knocked me safely aside. I engaged again, hoping to keep it busy dodging. "Can we retreat yet?"
"I've no idea," Ren said. "Not like there was any mention of a signal for us."
"We can't hold here."
"Thanks for telling me what I just told you."
I shook my head, and nearly died for it. The blood loss must have been getting to me to not see that claw until the last second. Luckily, my armour protected me, and froze the claw in question – my Rune being in place. The Grimm's shock gave me the time I needed to slay it, shattering the icy arm and driving my sword up into its ribcage. As it fell, falling back and clearing several of its fellows away, I grabbed Ren by the back of his shirt.
"What are you-?" Ren only had the time to gasp as I hauled him back, spun, and then hurled him away with all my Strength. That might not have meant much for the average person or even the average Knight, but I had an A rank in Strength and that meant my strength – for my level – was at an unnatural amount. Ren was also as light as a feather. He sailed through the air, clearing two houses at least before he crashed into a roof, bounced off it, and slipped over the edge. He caught himself, glaring back.
"Run!" I yelled. "I'll catch up."
I wasn't sure he could hear me or not, but there was no time to find out. One of the Ursa had finally crested the wall, stomping its fellows into paste as it did. The Ancient Grimm looked about for prey and saw only me – roaring so loudly that several Canis were blasted off the wall from the force of it. With thunderous steps, it lumbered toward me.
An Ancient Grimm I couldn't kill, not on my own. This was the kind of thing that required a full party with tactics and strategy, and right now I was on death's door. I glanced to the stairs, my retreat, but dismissed the notion. This thing would just jump down after me and probably crush me in the process. Instead, I held Crocea Mors before me, ready for its attack. In the distance, I thought I heard Ren cry out for me to run.
But there just wasn't the time. To turn was to expose my back to the Canis, to fight was to die. I needed distance, distance I'd granted Ren but could not grant myself. There would also be no last-minute save here, with everyone else no doubt fighting for their own lives across Magnis. The Ursa swept one paw down and behind it and lashed out with a straight thrust toward me. As it hurtled in, I angled my sword to block it – not to deflect, but to take it full on – and jumped in the air.
If I couldn't propel myself, I'd find someone with the strength to propel me. With my feet no longer grounded, the claw hit me centre-mass, crashing my sword into my breastplate and knocking the air from my lungs. I sailed back, off the wall immediately and through the air, away from the Ancient Grimm. Past the whistling wind and my own agonised cries, I had the sense of mind to curl into a ball.
My impact with the roof of a house was less than kind. I'd expected to crash into it, but I went straight through, bursting through slate and roof beams to crash into the wooden floor of an attic with a cry of pure agony. Something was broken, I knew instantly. But as I forced myself to roll over, I knew it wasn't my neck or back, so it didn't matter.
Through gritted teeth and pain, I forced myself up, limped to the nearest staircase and tried to descend it. My footing failed, and I rolled down, armour bouncing off each step and the wall as I crashed onto the first floor. Not having the time or energy to stand, I pulled myself to the next staircase and rolled down that, too. I managed to roll into a stumble and a stagger at the bottom, not quite getting on my feet but rather some strange, one foot, one hand and a knee animal-like rush. It brought me to a window and I hurled myself out, smashing through and rolling on the stone floor outside.
Not my best landing, nor my best of anything else. The roars behind me told me the Grimm hadn't been idle, as I knew they wouldn't have been. I tried to stand, cried out in pain, and then forced myself to anyway. Hands caught my shoulder, but it wasn't Ren. It was a pair of Soldiers, people I didn't know, one from Mistral, the other from Vale. They'd actually left the safety of the inner walls to help me.
"Get his right," one hissed, hauling my broken arm, or maybe it was my shoulder, over his. "Come on, we don't have much time."
"I've got him, I've got him."
"Ren," I gasped. "The other-"
"Someone else has him, don't worry. We need to get back." The two half-carried, half-dragged me towards the walls, and the still-open gates, where two more Soldiers waited with torches bared, waving their arms for us to hurry. Behind, I heard Canis approach, loping down the street like packs of wolves hunting their prey. We were moving much too slow to escape them.
Whistling arrows poured over our heads, however, impacting stone with sharp sparks and black flesh with pained yelps. More and more came, a deluge of arrow fire that cut the Grimm down and bought us the time needed for the two to drag me to the gates. I was handed off to someone, multiple someones, who bundled me inside quickly.
"They're in!" someone said. "Close the gates. Close them!"
I didn't see the gates closing, shuttled off to a tent that had been erected nearby, where a man in a white uniform took one look at me and shouted for linen and clean water. As he hurried to source that, another face filled my vision.
"Well met," General Corvo said, bleeding profusely from an empty eye-socket. "Is our Knight still with us?"
"Barely," the healer growled. "And you'll be dead as well if you don't stop moving around, General. Lay down." He pushed the General away and laid a white cloth over his face, turning to me and tutting. "Multiple wounds, bleeding and what looks to be a broken shoulder. Would that we had a Priest here, but I can make you a potion that will dull the pain and accelerate your blood replenishment." The Class `Alchemist` floated above his head, the same as Oobleck's. He was probably a Soldier in one of the armies, but the techniques would still be the same.
I gripped his hand. "My friends. The other Heroes…"
"I'll send word for to check on them," the man promised, "but you need to stay still."
I nodded and gritted my teeth past the pain of cool water rushing over my open wounds. The treatment was neither gentle nor kind, there being too many injured for him to take his time with me. The man – and his colleagues – worked efficiently and with as much care as they could afford, but it was always second to closing wounds as fast as possible.
It was after another of mine had been stitched shut that Ren found me. With no pain relief and no rest – sweat having long covered my face – it was all I could do to meet his eyes when he staggered into the tent. It must have been enough for his face lit up. "You're alive! Damn it, Jaune, you're an absolute idiot."
"Touch my patient and I'll make you into one," the Alchemist snarled, drawing on a needle to tighten two flaps of skin on my side. I tried not to whimper and instantly failed. "There," he said. "That should do to stop you dying on me, at least for now. I'll mix you those potions now."
"Y-You couldn't have done that before?" I asked.
"No. You'd have bled out first." With a business-like nod, he moved to a nearby table where multiple other men and women were busy grinding herbs.
Ren settled down beside me. The Monk's face was pale, and his hands shook with fatigue, so much that I doubted he could hold a weapon. "I can't believe you're still alive. I thought for sure you'd sacrificed yourself so I could get away. How could you do that?"
"I didn't," I bit out.
"I guess you didn't." He laughed. "All those angry words I'd prepared seem so meaningless now. The others are alive," he said, "though no one has come out of this unscathed. Ruby is unconscious but Pyrrha assures me it was due to exhaustion. She moves so quickly but that takes a toll on her body. She just stopped and fell in the middle of the battle and hasn't awoken since. The Soldiers carried her back and Pyrrha held the wall alone."
"On her own?" That seemed so crazy, especially considering the trouble we'd been through. Both of us had nearly died.
"Her Passive helped her," Ren explained. "Since she was technically fighting alone, her Stats would have grown to an even higher level. The bump to Constitution would have given her the energy to keep going, even if she was on the verge of collapse. She made it back with only minor wounds."
"The others…?"
"Yang and Nora were better off than we and are now fighting at the gates to the inner walls. Lots of cuts and scrapes, but they're alive. Blake was badly wounded-" Ren quickly moved to push me down as I tried to rise. "She's alive," he hissed. "She's alive. Something caught her leg. She wasn't able to run back to safety, but she was able to hide and sneak her way back into the walls."
"Where is she?" I asked, straining to see her in the cramped medical tent.
"In the main keep. She arrived before we did and the injured were taken there, at least until it filled up and they had to open this tent out here. I'm sure she's fine, Jaune. I heard the wound was deep but not life-threatening. She's stronger than us."
She was, and I'd always known that but never given it the respect it deserved. I wanted to ignore my wounds and stagger over to make sure she was safe, but she would tear me to pieces for that, for making my wounds worse just to assure myself she was okay. I couldn't offer any healing or help to her, so all I'd be doing was risking my life. If she ever forgave me for everything else, that would just be another example of how little I trusted her, and how often I acted with no thought to the bigger picture. As such, I forced myself to lay down and let things be. "Thanks, Ren. What about you?"
"Alive, injured, but more exhausted than anything," he said with a wan smile. "I don't have the reserves Nora and Yang do, so I'm catching some rest. I'll be going back out there soon, however. As will Pyrrha, I imagine."
And the only ones who wouldn't be, who couldn't, were Blake, Ruby and myself – along with Weiss, but she'd probably recovered enough of her reserves to join in for now. It hurt to be one of the only ones out of the fight and at least Blake had an excuse, having held an entire wall on her own. It was just another sign of the disparity in our levels, and the fact that I'd have to lay here, removed from the fight, while the rest of the Guild risked their lives to protect me, was just another reminder of my weakness.
If I were a real Hero, a real Knight, I might have had some Skills to get myself through this without taking so much damage. I might still be capable of fighting alongside them all. But I wasn't, and I couldn't. Never had I felt my Blacksmith side so much.
"Rest for now, Jaune," Ren said. "We'll handle things from here."
/-/
I must have passed in and out of consciousness for a while, though there was no measuring the time, of course. It had been day when the battle began, but it was the middle of the night when I fully awoke. The sounds of melee were just as fierce as they'd always been, but they told me Magnis still stood. The inner walls were much easier to defend, even if the Grimm kept on coming. In my useless state, I had plenty of time to ask myself how so many Grimm had spawned and why they'd come in our direction with such purpose. There were no answers, of course. The methods of the Grimm were alien to all.
I felt strong enough to stand and did so, the potions I'd been fed running through my system and leaving me with an odd sensation of numbness. I could still feel my limbs, but they were heavy and muted, like I was walking in a pool of water. The pain relief was a blessed kindness, however. The wounds that had been stitched shut no longer burned like ants were feasting on them. It was still a far cry from the instant coolness of Tsune's healing spells, but I appreciated it nonetheless.
Staggering to the tent's entrance, I managed to make my way outside, though only far enough to lean on an open barrel of water. There was a ladle nearby and I greedily scooped some up to drink from it, feeling a little more life come to as the cool water helped me wake up. I scanned the walls, looking for any familiar figures, and caught a flash of red – of Ruby running back and forth. She must have recovered enough to join the fight. I refrained from calling out lest I distract her.
Crocea Mors was still at my side but I forced myself to look away from it. I'd be next to useless if I tried to help, and more a hindrance for the people who had to save me. It was painful, to force myself to stay back while others risked their lives but rushing in without thought was what cost me Blake. I couldn't make the same mistake again.
As I turned away, a light up by the main temple structure caught my eye, the building that now houses the civilians from below. There was a large staircase that led up to it, and four or five people were ascending it, torches in hand. They were cloaked and hooded. A strange sense of wrongness washed over me; a prickling as the hairs on my arm stood on end and something heavy seemed to weigh down on my mind. I couldn't take my eyes off them, no matter how hard I tried.
Why would any of the Soldiers be going up there? The fight was here and if they were healthy enough to climb steps, they were healthy enough to fight. Two more figures, hooded, exchanged words at the base. The taller one nodded and began to ascend, while the shorter hurried away toward the keep. I stumbled towards him, getting in his way.
"Move, fool," he snapped, pushing by.
It was the Noble from Magnis, the Seneschal, and the one Weiss had suspected of being a Greycloak. I watched him head back into the keep and then looked back toward the temple. Suddenly nervous, I moved over to a Mistral soldier catching his breath by the back wall.
"C-Can I h-help you, s-sir," he stammered, trying to sound polite and deferential but far too exhausted for it. He was so tired he'd started to cry without realising it, drawing in heaving sobs of air.
"It's fine," I assured. "I just wanted to ask you something. When you came in with the Mistral army, whatever happened to Corvo's prisoner?"
"The traitor Hero? He was brought with us. Even if he's a traitor, it's not considered right for us to execute him - not Forsaken territory, but it sullies you. Corvo wanted to give him back to Vale so it was out of our hands and no longer our problem. I think he granted the prisoner to the garrison here."
"And where would he have been taken?"
"Well, the keep, I guess."
The keep. The same keep the Seneschal had almost full access to, and the keep which was now on skeleton staff because everyone was too busy holding the inner walls. It was the perfect time to move, to enact whatever plan they had, and no one would notice a Thief escape his cell, especially not if he was hooded and aided by an insider.
Shit. This wasn't good. I couldn't interrupt the others for fear of losing the walls, but whatever the Greycloaks had planned, I wanted to stop. Blake was out, too injured. Hell, I was too injured to put up much of a fight, either, but at least I could move. My first instinct was to ignore everything and rush to the temple. I crushed that thought mercilessly.
"Come with me," I commanded.
"What?"
"A Hero demands it. Will you answer?"
"A-As you wish, Honoured Hero."
Good old Mistral, dependable in their own way, even if it felt a little brainwashed. I staggered back to the medical tents, my follower in tow. General Corvo wasn't hard to find, laid out on a bed with a red bandage wrapped about his eye. I shook him to wakefulness.
"Can you move, General? Can you fight?"
"I can always fight," he replied, wincing past the pain. "Have they breached the walls? Is this to be our final stand?"
"Not yet. I need your help to investigate something. There's no time to explain."
I expected him to question or ignore me, or at least to demand I make that time, he unwilling to risk his life on nothing more than my word. Then again, I'd perhaps underestimated Mistral. "Well then, let's not waste any." He swung his legs out and stood, testing his balance and his twin blades. "I won't be much use with one eye, not without some practice, but I'm sure I can hold my own."
"That's all I ask, General. I don't think we'll be fighting against Grimm anyway."
He caught my ominous warning and called out to some of the other injured by name, some of who rose, healthy enough to fight, if at diminished capacity. One or two were of his personal retinue, with crimson cloaks to go with their black armour, but the rest were simple Mistral soldiers, along with two from Vale willing to join along. All in all, we had twelve men. It was the best I could muster in so short a time. I hoped it would be enough.
The battle continued to rage around us as the ragtag party of the injured made their way to the staircase leading up to the temple, our eyes focused on the pillars above and the lights that emanated from it. It was easily explained away, there being all the civilians inside, but something in my gut warned me there was danger. It wouldn't cost us much to take a look.
Ascending the long staircase, we were about halfway when we were noticed. At the top, two figures detached from the building, slowly descending to face us. I didn't fail to notice the swords at their hips.
"Let us pass," Corvo demanded.
"The Vale citizens lay within," the hooded figure replied. "There is no reason for Mistral Soldiers to be here."
"Then let us pass," I said, gesturing to the Vale soldier and myself.
The two didn't move aside. Instead, they drew their weapons, and in the act revealed the lining of their silvery cloaks beneath the brown ones they wore.
Greycloaks…
It's so hot here! Damn it, I hate heat waves. Everyone is all "Oh, isn't the weather lovely", but NO, overcast never burned a man. It doesn't raise your house to such sweltering heat that you can barely move, and it doesn't drive your dog into a panting mess. Screw hot weather.
Oh right, and the chapter, yeah. Stuff and things happening and the Greycloaks make their move at last. I also practised some "fast battles" here, where individual fights are given relatively little detail and time to speed things up. Were this OGT, each fight would have been in more detail. That's fine when you want and plan for 10 or so chapters of a siege, but this isn't that fic and Magnis isn't going to be a book in its own right.
Next Chapter: 14th May
P a treon . com (slash) Coeur
