["Why would you celebrate a slaughter? / For what does blood spill but more blood?" — Tennaya Shirzen, The Journeyman's Ode]
Cold chills ran down Kiritsugu's body as the waygate light released him, but at least this time he kept his footing. The warrior, however, was not so lucky. She growled as she was practically flung against the nearest wall, just next to him. A little tendril from the waygate spirit curled mockingly at her.
"Tch." Red eyes narrowed. "Really the princess' pet, aren't you?"
"It has good taste, that's all," said the princess with an air of great dignity as she brushed her sleeve off. She fixed Kiritsugu with a hard stare. "Well? She's your mutt. What do you propose we do with her, before my mother finds her?"
"Finds who?" The mother in question swept into the room, looking at each in turn like they were stray puppies. Her mane of red hair hung freely and her robes, while elegant, lacked the extravagance of the formal ones she'd worn sitting on the throne. Yet her presence was every bit as commanding, especially when her stern gaze came to rest on the warrior, whose feral smirk grew. "Hm. I can tell this will be quite the story."
"Mother," began the princess unsuredly, clenching and unclenching her hands a few times. "I... I know we snuck off but... he needed to see. What we're up against."
"Just the two of you on your own?" An elegant arch of an eyebrow. "Without an escort? Without even letting someone know where you'd gone, in case you ran into trouble and needed a rescue?"
Each of the accusations made the princess wince harder. Kiritsugu shifted against the wall and watched. There was nothing to say—it was the princess' choice, she needed to face the consequences.
"He... he needs to prove himself," the princess replied sullenly. "We can't always be coddling him, we'll be putting the entire kingdom in his hands!"
"There is something to be said for introducing a child to the river in stages, rather than throwing him headlong into the rapids." The corners of her lips turned upward. "Or need I remind you of the incident when Elana's elemental had to drag you—"
"No, that's perfectly alright mother, thank you!" The princess hastily cut her off with a desperate wave of her hand. "We came back safely, that's all that matters, right? And we even brought spoils!"
The queen finally turned to the warrior, who greeted her with an insolent grin. "So why doesn't said 'spoils' introduce herself?"
The warrior's gaze flipped to Kiritsugu. It took him a moment to realize she was waiting for instructions. He arched an eyebrow. That seemed to be enough.
"The Thunder of Dhakkan, Lupa Arrernte." She bowed playfully. "I stumbled into your subjects, and we got along so well that they decided they just had to take me home."
"I see." The queen's smile looked a little strained around the edges. She turned to Kiritsugu. "I applaud your initiative, Yuusha-sama."
She thinks I wanted this.
That was one problem taken care of, at least. He opened his mouth to tell her to have the warrior quietly executed, when a doubt assailed him. He had fallen too easily into assuming the queen was his ally. But no one ruled without knowing how to make hard choices, or how to move pawns into place. It could be very useful to have a dark knight in his corner when that eventually happened.
He pushed off the wall, intent on returning to his room. He still needed to strip down his gun before turning in for the night.
"I want her quarters next to mine," he instructed over his shoulder.
A strangled keen from the princess ground his feet to a halt. "You… you can't be serious!"
"My, my," said the warrior. "I didn't expect the great Hero to be so… forward."
Even the queen looked a little taken aback before she smoothly recovered. "I suppose if it's agreeable to you, Lupa Arrernte, then I shall instruct the servants."
Only then did realization dawn on Kiritsugu. The warrior wasn't hard on the eyes, but he really didn't want another woman given to him as part of a deal. It hadn't ended well before, and it certainly wouldn't end well now.
And whose fault was that?
"So I can keep an eye on her," he specified through gritted teeth, unconsciously pulling his coat tighter around himself as he stepped out into the castle hall.
"Oh, I have no doubt that your eyes will be on me, Yuusha-sama," the warrior answered. "And I'd be happy to have a little more than that, too."
The princess choked on air. "You barely know him! And you're just going to… to fling yourself at him?"
"Ooh, good idea." The warrior's grin grew even larger, somehow. "Why don't I jump on you again? We can pick up where we left off—"
"Don't." The ice in his tone stopped her. He glanced at the queen. "I want her ready for interrogation in fifteen minutes."
Fifteen minutes. Enough for Kiritsugu's pounding headache to ease, but not so long that she'd have time to polish a story for them. He headed for the southwestern courtyard and the stone well that sat in its center, pleasantly mossy with age. Hauling up a bucket, he took a long drink.
Frigid. He splashed the remainder in his face anyway, then took a seat on a nearby bench.
Get it together. He drew in a long breath through his teeth. Can't fall apart on the job.
A job that will never end.
Suck it up. For Shirou's sake.
Another deep breath. He looked up into the night sky—twin moons lazily drifting toward the horizon. How much sleep had he gotten?
Doesn't matter.
Even if he wasn't at peak performance, he could put on a show. That should be enough for any nosy goddess whose curiosity got the best of her.
He sighed. Not even a day since he appeared in the summoning circle, and he was already drowning in this new world. There was so much to absorb, so much to process, and all the while he had to look like he knew what he was doing. The faith they'd openly placed in him only disturbed him more.
A simple, friendly people. The town looked different, but it had much of the cheer that he remembered from another village. Another shore.
Stop it. Think about something practical.
Okay. Allies. Who could he lean on if he was forced to?
The princess openly despised him, but that could be an asset in its own right. Her spite was a tool he could use to spur her to action. But it was not a reliable one. So no, not her.
The witch's eyes were full of stars for him, but her clout seemed limited despite her position. It didn't help that she devalued herself so much. Again, there was the thought of breaking her—but the cold claw clacked on his ribs again. Absolutely not.
The queen, then? Beyond a shadow of a doubt, no. Rulers were politicians, and she had many years of politicking under her belt. She was the most dangerous, in fact. There was no way he could rely on her in any capacity.
The warrior, well—
A thud of increasingly familiar boots echoed on the paving stones, interrupting his thoughts.
"Everything's ready, as per your command." The sarcasm dripping from the princess' voice would have been enough to flood a bathtub. "Will you deign to follow, Yuusha-sama?"
Right. Spite was a double-edged sword. If this world's royalty were anything like magi, her wounded pride would cost him sooner or later. It occurred to Kiritsugu that the disconnected, analytical approach hadn't been winning him many friends.
Too late to worry about it now. He stood up without a word, wrapping his coat a little tighter around himself. The princess huffed and started back indoors.
She led him not to the dungeons, but to a room right next to his own in the upper corridors. Right, he had ordered the warrior placed there. And if she was his… retainer in the long term, it made sense to have the interrogation here, rather than this world's equivalent to a basement room with plastic sheets.
The princess rapped smartly on the door, then pushed it open and motioned for him to enter.
The room was opulently decorated and furnished, with a four poster bed and all manner of ornate furniture and tapestries. Very much like his own, which on reflection he should have expected.
Fittingly, what he had expected turned out not to be the case. Rather than tied to a chair with a blindfold around her head, the warrior comfortably lounged on a red leather sofa. She grinned when she saw him.
"Welcome back, Mr. Master. It gets dull without you, y'know?"
He glanced at the princess. "You didn't think to secure her?"
Her mouth had only just opened when the warrior cut her off harshly. "As if they had any rope that could hold me."
"Don't tempt me," the princess growled before whirling on Kiritsugu. "You have what you wanted. Go ahead."
Kiritsugu ignored her in favor of pulling up the nearest chair and settling himself directly across from the bestial woman. His fingers dug about in his ammunition pouch until they closed on the round he wanted. He pulled it out and held it up between finger and thumb for her inspection.
"If you think what I hit you with earlier was painful," he stated, "those were a fraction of this size."
He reached into his coat pocket, pulled out the Contender, and loaded the bullet into the chamber. It closed with a loud, metallic clack.
The warrior's smile widened. "You say the sweetest things."
He placed the gun in his lap, barrel pointed towards her. It was less intimidating in a world without firearms, but the point was communicated.
"So you're a general," he said, more a statement of fact than a question.
She yawned, showing rows of spiked teeth. "When I got my title—Thunder of Dhakkan—I went to the Demon Lord to demand a position leading his armies." Her lip curled in a wolfish smile as she glanced towards the princess. "Some of us hand out ranks based on merit."
"So do we!" the princess threw back. "We've been using a—"
Kiritsugu raised a hand to silence her, then turned back to the warrior. "How many soldiers in your personal army?"
"Rough numbers," she started, counting idly on her fingers, "800 golems, 45 siege mages, 45 battle mages, and 10 officers including myself. Give or take a few on each."
He would need to ask the witch how much firepower that all represented, but from the obvious pride in the warrior's voice, it was significant.
"What percentage of the Demon Lord's forces does that represent?" the princess interjected. The warrior leaned back against the cushions and arched an eyebrow at Kiritsugu.
"Answer her."
"Don't ask for precise numbers, Miss Highnessness."
"What, you can't even hold all the figures in your head?" She turned a triumphant look on Kiritsugu. "See, this is why formal edu—"
"We're the smallest army of the bunch," the warrior interrupted, making the princess fume. "I'd say maybe… five percent? Something like that? The others are all bigger than that. I'd say a few tens of thousands total."
"How many of your troops would defect to follow you?" he asked.
She shook her head. "Their piss wouldn't even fill a bucket. I'm still the new pup of the litter. Most of them are golems, anyway—they just follow the golem commanders." She waved a hand absent-mindedly. "Those guys are probably duking it out for my spot right now, all of the officers."
"So your army would be distracted right now, yes?" The princess asked, leaning forward.
The warrior grinned. "Yeah, but the golems'll still kick your ass."
The princess scowled again as Kiritsugu continued his battery of questions, interjecting here and there as they tried (and failed) to pull out any significant weaknesses. As his throat grew more parched, he looked out the window to the dark night sky. The moons were closer to the horizon, but not as close as he'd expected. Times like this made him wish Maiya were still—
Stop. He choked the thought down before it could lodge itself in his head like a bullet.
He looked back to the warrior. She easily met his gaze.
"You've met the Demon Lord," he stated. She replied with a nod.
"He's a big guy," she said, standing up and holding a hand high above herself. "Somewhere around there. He comes up to a dragon's shoulder, wide as its arm."
Kiritsugu nodded. "He's got to have some weakness. Tell me how I can kill him."
She looked back down at him, canines shining in the candlelight.
"You can't."
