Halkegenia Online v1 – Refactored – Chapter 7
Reconquista's convoy made its way slowly down the back roads, a dozen wagons carrying food and miscellaneous supplies. The guards, around fifty foot soldiers reinforced by a trio of wind mages, were only half alert. It was poor form that left their flanks exposed, but the Royalists had been pushed from this region weeks ago.
"Aye, Tobias, did you hear the Royalists at Blum were routed in three days? That's ten crowns you owe me!" a portly man with the misfortune of burdening the smallest horse said to his fellows.
"Crowns, Hughes? Surely you mean marks!" one of the other noblemen replied.
"I mean crowns!" Hughes insisted. "The Good Cromwell's word and some silver aren't nearly as satisfying as a tenth part gold."
"Bah, and where would I get ten crowns?" Tobias replied.
"The same place you got the last ten," the third nobleman laughed. "And the next."
"Martin! You two are bleeding me dry!" Tobias said in shock.
"Now, now, we're just trying to cure your addiction, see what good friends we are?"
The third mage laughed heartily.
The laughter was cut short a moment later with a call to halt from the front of the convoy. The three mages spurred their horses forward. The cause of the sudden stop appeared to be a felled tree. The sheer audacity at first left the officers at a loss.
"Weapons at the ready!" Tobias heard the call repeated down the line. The air was filled with the sounds of boots pounding gravel and the clatter of weapons.
The air grew still as the last of the guards took position, only the distant sounds of birds and the soft rustling of the trees impinged upon their hearing. Then something else could be heard, a low cracking and the sound of air rushing past leaves and then a loud -crash-. It had come from the rear of the convoy.
Tobias spurred his horse around. He was halfway to the rear when a line of dirt and leaves erupted across the roadway before rising up, a rope strung between two trees. It caught him dead in the middle of the chest. He felt the breath being driven from his lungs and a sense of vertigo as his horse raced out beneath him.
A moment later he was struggling to his feet. Hughes and Martin, having saved themselves from the same fate, now turned their horses about to the shouts erupting across the convoy.
Tobias raised his wand shakily. He saw something, someone, moving among the trees and then more shouts. The twang of a crossbow bolt sounded, followed by sudden cries.
"Where's it coming from!" Hughes demanded.
There was another thunderous -Crack!- as part of the forest started to fall towards them, separating Tobias from Martin and Hughes and sending the horses into a panic. A cloaked form plummeted from above, dragging Hughes from his horse.
Suddenly the ground beside Martin erupted as a second figure threw aside their concealment. That was the last Tobias saw of Martin as he was suddenly confronted by his own attacker. Sprinting from the forest at an impossible speed, a third cloaked assailant rushed at him wielding a sword and shield. Anger boiled in Martin, so that was the reason behind this cowardly attack.
Retainers of the Royalists, bereft of their masters, had reverted to feral dogs. They had guts trying to attack mages on their own. They would try to get in close and force him into a sword fight where a commoner could hope to compete.
Tobias whipped his wand around and began to incant, an air hammer, not particularly powerful, but effective all the same. The wind mage let fly, the air before him grew thick before driving forward.
His opponent couldn't have sensed the attack, but no doubt had read his movements. The shield came up just as the hammer crashed, buffeting the shield and tearing at their cloak. The force of the blow should have knocked them from their feet.
"Tcht." He thrust forward with another incantation, a more lethal air needle. He caught the cloaked figure off guard, his attack punctured a hole in their shield and grazed a shoulder with a short hiss of tortured air as his assailant dove to the side.
He had stolen the initiative, now it was time to turn this around, he rushed forward. Something large and metallic hurtled towards him, Tobias whipped his wand up to deflect. The air blast batted the shield aside just in time to reveal the charging assailant who had thrown it.
He jumped to the side, barely dodging a strike to his flank, then jumped back again as his attacker brought their sword down in an overhead strike. The mage stumbled, falling to the earth, the point of a blade pressed beneath his chin.
"Yield!"
He tossed his wand aside and raised his hands in surrender.
"Good boy."
The figure looked over their shoulder, a foolish mistake. Dropping his hands, a spare wand slid from the cuff of Tobias' shirt. His attacker had no chance to resist. They were slammed against a nearby tree with a solid thud and a clatter of armor before collapsing limply to the ground.
"Damn!" the commoner coughed, and then rolled aside as Tobias pressed forward casting another gust to bludgeon them. The attacks weren't as effective as he expected, but it was keeping his opponent disoriented.
The commoner managed to get their feet beneath them, legs coiling just as Tobias let loose. For a moment he thought he had been mistaken, and he was in fact facing a wind mage. His assailant described an arc through the air that deposited them behind him.
Landing heavily, his adversary rolled and spun around, boots digging into the soft earth and pushing off, bringing their blade up with a shout just as Tobias did the same with his wand. The blade's arc intersected with Tobias' wand and the wand tip, as well as the tips of his index and middle fingers, parted company.
Tobias was too busy screaming to see the fist that sent him spiraling into blackness.
Using the back end of a wagon as a makeshift table, Asuna surveyed the captured map of Albion with an intense look in her eyes. The landmass possessed a distinct elongated s-shape that was thickest near its center. Roads, towns, and cities spread out in an intricate web. Here and there coins had been laid on the map to designate the affiliations of different territories. Silver marks denoted Rebel holdings. The Royalist strongholds were marked by gold crown pieces. There were a lot more Rebels than there were Royalists.
"We're right here," Millia pointed to the north-eastern end of the map where the bulk of the island began to curve towards its northern tip. "That puts us a bit south of York. Last I'd heard, the Rebel army had managed to push past this area."
"It doesn't sound like things are going well for the Royalists," Arguile commented; the Knight was standing arms crossed beside Asuna, stroking his chin. Three days in the real world had resulted in the man developing a fine stubble.
Covered in their mottled cloaks and with their ears covered, as far as their captives were concerned they were nothing but very bold bandits.
Asuna tried not to draw parallels between what they were doing now and the actions of the thieves' guilds that had infested Aincrad. It felt strange, wrong, to suddenly find herself on the far side of that equation. But where the thieves' guilds had stolen merely to maximize their own profits, Asuna and the others were now resorting to banditry in order to survive.
"It is true, the Royalists are losing ground every day," Millia admitted. Her eyes were downcast with worry. "And if the fighting has now moved so far north, it means the Rebels probably hold the majority of Albion's fleet."
"Then for the time being, our objective needs to be to get off Albion before the Royalists are defeated," Asuna concluded. "Otherwise, the Rebels will discover us when they start to consolidate their positions."
"Agreed," Arguile said. "So, the nearest port city is York?"
"This is it here." Millia placed her middle and index fingers beneath a line of Albionian script. "Do you plan to steal a ship?"
"If it comes to that," Asuna replied, half distracted. "Once we're away from Albion we'll be able to plan our next move."
"Finding the rest of ALfheim." Arguile gave voice to Asuna's own fervent prayers.
"Arguile-san," Asuna instructed, "go see how the supply team is doing. Anything that isn't packed soon is going to have to be left behind."
She gave the map one more look. York was about two days travel on foot, make it four if they traveled at night and stayed off the major roads. She was rolling the map up, brushing the coins and other markers into a small pile, when Millia spoke again.
"You should at least try to contact the Royalists."
"You already said they would probably mistake us for Elves," Asuna replied, face composed. Even now Millia didn't seem to fully believe them when they claimed to be human. "It's not a risk we can take. At least, not until we've scouted out York. Once we've done that, then maybe." Asuna tucked the map into a small satchel and slung it over her shoulder. "And in any case, wouldn't we have to travel past York to meet the Royalists?"
"That's true," Millia admitted, following Asuna as she made her way from the lead wagon down the column. "But so long as the Prince Valiant still draws breath, there is hope. And with your fighting power . . ."
"Not all of us are strong fighters," Asuna corrected, glancing to the defeated guards bound in rope lined up along the side of the road. They didn't look like the men that Asuna had faced that first night in this world. They were too young, too innocent, and after their mage leaders had been dealt with, too docile.
When she asked Millia about them, the woman simply shrugged. "They're peasant conscripts."
Asuna frowned, "I thought you said the Rebels did terrible things to the retainers of the Royalists." That had been the reason Millia had given for her own flight.
"They do," Millia said. "The guards and personal servants. But these men are simply the commoners that come with the land."
Asuna's expression soured as she listened. It was clear that Millia thought no more of the peasants than Asuna had of Aincrad's NPCs. They were there, a component of the world, neither to be abused nor cherished.
"You're wrong," Asuna said, eyes fixed forward. "These men are definitely fighting for something."
Millia looked away from the prisoners bitterly. "You say that, but the Windsor family always treated their tenants with kindness. And now, they repay that kindness by dutifully serving new masters."
"And what about their own families?" Asuna said hotly. "If they obey Reconquista, their families will be safe, isn't that worth it?"
Millia didn't say anything, only balled her fists. They soon reached the far end of the line of prisoners. The last three men were the noble officers. Everything from their clothing to their attitudes set them apart. The two sat rigidly upright, seeming determined to maintain their dignity.
The third noble had abandoned all pretense and simply glared up at Asuna while clutching his maimed hand. The severed stumps of the man's index and middle fingers, which now ended above the first knuckle, had been crudely healed and dressed by Millia.
"You could have been a little less brutal," Kino chided Caramella.
"And he could have yielded!" Caramella snapped back. Even with half her face concealed by her cloak, the swordswoman looked irritated. "One of those wind blasts smacked me right in the tits."
"My hand!" the nobleman on the ground shouted.
"My tits!" Caramella shouted back, before noticing the arrival of Asuna and Millia. The woman suddenly flushed. "Ah, Asuna-sama! Millia-chan! Sorry about that, the prisoner was making noise."
Asuna regarded the three noble officers carefully. She still didn't have a good feeling for their abilities in battle, which was why she had made it a priority to neutralize the mages first. And these men were just rear guards. Reconquista's elite troops, the equivalent of the front line forces, would have many skilled 'Line' and 'Triangle' level mages.
"Caramella-san, Kino-san, we're almost done here. Make sure you collect all of their weapons and magical foci, then we'll blindfold them. We'll loosen the bonds on one of the commoner soldiers so he can work his way free once we've gone."
Kino nodded and went to work cutting a strip from the shirt of each man and using it to fashion a blindfold. Caramella huffed dismissively. Millia, for her own part, also seemed displeased by this turn of events.
The men looked amongst themselves. "This isn't some sort of trick, is it?" the portly one asked cautiously.
Asuna shook her head, "We have what we've come for, and we won't be back. This isn't our fight one way or the other, so detaining you or killing you is pointless." The nobles all sank down in relief as Kino covered their eyes.
"Everyone make ready to depart!" Asuna shouted over the clattering noises of crates and bags being unloaded. "If everyone has a full pack, there's no more reason for us to stay."
Cries of 'Roger' and 'Affirmative' came from all down the line of wagons as the former SAO players broke back into the forest. By the time the first man worked himself free they had vanished without a trace.
"I am not a . . . hgnn . . . beast of burden!" Kimura monotoned indignantly. The researcher turned slug type mob's back was covered in lashed down supplies as he slithered undeterred across the forest floor.
Caramella grunted as she tossed down her own monstrously overloaded pack and stretched with relief. Being superhumanly strong was a pretty sweet deal, right up until the fighting ended and you were relegated to pack mule.
"It's not that bad, is it?" Kino asked, setting down his own pack which was at least as overloaded as her own.
"What the hell?" Caramella's eye twitched. "What the heck are you, Momotaro?"
Kino scratched behind his ear. "Well, I was pretty useless in combat because I could never settle on my build. But it meant I ended up with a lot of useful support skills and stats. So I kind of became our guild's odd job person."
"What you're trying to say is that they used you as a gopher," Caramella said flatly. Kino's perpetually chipper smile cracked like porcelain.
"Caramella-san, Kino-san, you're back!" the old fisherman, Nishida, came walking down to greet them. "So the ambush was a success?"
"It was spot on," Caramella said and gave a V for victory, "It looks like that scumbag was right about them using the road to transport supplies." Seeing Asuna and their native guide catching up she reached into her pack.
"Catch."
She tossed an apple to Millia. The young woman fumbled but managed to save her prize. Shining the fruit on the sleeve of her blouse, she took a greedy bite, and then another, quickly reducing the fruit to a thin core.
Caramella suddenly felt the gnawing of her own belly, not just the aching sensation that she had grown accustomed to thinking of as hunger in SAO, but a visceral emptiness. She'd muscled through it for the past three days, but now, with the smell of food in the air, it wasn't something she could ignore.
"Kino, lend me one of your knives." Caramella felt the hilt of one of the knife user's blades being placed into her waiting hand.
"Here." Caramella handed half of the loaf to Millia who accepted graciously. Asuna and Arguile came to join them, Arguile taking a seat beside Kino, while Asuna sat down wearily on a fallen log, regarding her own loaf of bread with a dissatisfied look.
Inevitably, Caramella's eyes wandered to Asuna's back. She knew that the wings were a delicate subject. Still, they nagged at the back of her mind. In the end she had to ask.
"Hey, Escargot-san?" she called out to Kimura who had settled in nearby.
"Yes, Caramel-chan?" Kimura said in that infuriatingly neutral tone.
"Ca-ra-me-la," she ground. "Just wondering, Faeries are supposed to be able to fly, right?"
"Caramella . . ." Arguile began with a growl.
"No," Asuna said, raising a hand. "It's okay. Go ahead Caramella-san."
"I was just thinking. Asuna has . . . well . . . if faeries are supposed to be able to fly, why don't the rest of us have wings?"
Kimura's eye stalks bobbed up and down thoughtfully like the timeout cursor on an old computer. The slug was proving pretty easy to read once someone spent time around him; unfortunately, Caramella had been forced to spend lots of time around him.
"That is correct," Kimura said. "The default state is for the wings to remain stored until summoned. Asuna-sama is probably a special case due to her avatar."
From her seat, Asuna looked away from the conversation with a bitter expression.
"Kimura-san," Kino spoke up, "isn't there some other way to access the wings?"
"I've tried," Asuna said suddenly. The others looked up. "Kimura-san showed me some exercises that can be used to manipulate them without the flight controller. I can move them, but I can't use them for much of anything."
"It may be that the flight mechanic did not transfer over to this world," Kimura said, thinking aloud. "Though the existence of magic in this world would seem to indicate that human flight is possible. Perhaps there is some sort of mental block."
"That mind over matter stuff went out of vogue back at the turn of the millennium," Caramella grumbled as she tore at a piece of jerky.
"Not at all," Kimura replied, eye stalks pivoting to observe Caramella. "Athletes suffer a broad range of physical symptoms and a real loss of performance due to anxiety. People who use nerve linked prostheses frequently suffer phantom paralysis. Caramel-chan's fervent desire to be a man has resulted in her appearance and mannerisms."
Caramella nearly choked on her jerky before coughing it back up.
"That isn't the reason for your appearance and behavior?" Kimura asked calmly.
"I. Will. Hurt. You." Caramella reached for her sword.
Kino quickly placed a restraining hand on Caramella's forearm, smiling nervously. "Okay, so maybe we just have to get around that block. If we really can get our wings to work, wouldn't that make getting off of Albion a lot easier?"
"There was a flight time limit," Kimura replied. "Some equivalent would likely hold true here. Stamina perhaps. It is moot anyways, unless you can learn to summon them."
"So if all this body image stuff is so important, why are you so calm?" Caramella jabbed. "At least we all look like our awesome selves. You're trapped in a giant bag of slime."
"Hmm." Kimura mulled the question over. "I suppose I've never really been bothered by this body." Kimura curled two of his facial whiskers to emphasize. "Perhaps I am simply not that attached to the human form."
"Or you're insane," Caramella added as she took another bite of jerky.
It was still only mid afternoon, but the ravine was already growing dark as the sun began to set behind the tops of the trees. Most of their troop had rested here through the day, they would set out again at nightfall and hopefully make camp again before daybreak.
Asuna suddenly stood up and turned to leave, a spare handful of bread in hand.
"Asuna-sama, where are you going?" Arguile reached out with one hand.
"There's still some unfinished business," Asuna said softly. Only Kimura looked untroubled. The captured mercenary, they couldn't just let him go, and his crimes were too heinous to be forgiven.
Eventually, a more permanent solution would have to be entertained. Caramella swallowed the last of her jerky. Just what were they becoming? Above them, the sky was growing darker.
The City of York sprawled along the coast of Albion, clinging to the bluffs edging the White Isle as it bent sharply northward. Built upon the cliffs, York was defended from the north-east by the open abyss and from the south by a shear drop that plummeted down to the banks of the river Fosse as it spilled off the edge of the floating continent.
With the rebellion nearly victorious and much of Albion in disarray, York, an essential port, was a rare pool of prosperity. Treasure was lavished on the city which was now a key supply point in Reconquista's push north. Ships arrived daily from the continent, bringing with them news and supplies. It could almost be believed that York existed in a happier time.
As midday approached, Yukimura Hayato, Kino, a former mid level knife wielder in the death game of SAO, and now a Faerie transported to the world of Halkegenia, clung closely to Caramella and Millia, trying not to be overwhelmed. Kino was no stranger to big cities; compared to Tokyo, York was barely a village. But over the past two years the boy had also grown accustomed to the scale of things in Aincrad. Now, in this town of a mere twenty thousand, the city boy was struggling not to feel like a country bumpkin.
Caramella noticed his skittishness and drew Kino close, squeezing his shoulder. With their ears hidden respectively by a broad hat and a scarf, and dressed in appropriate attire, they looked like nothing more than unwashed commoners.
It felt like they were taking a big risk walking right into an enemy stronghold, but Kino understood the necessity. Over the past days, they had crept carefully from hiding place to hiding place under the cover of darkness, working their way ever northward. Twice the sentries had spotted patrols and they had been forced to break camp and travel through the night.
Nobody was sure how much longer they could keep it up.
This had compelled Asuna to agree to a simple timetable. They were going to get everyone off Albion within the week. In order to do that, they were going to need a ship. As soon as Asuna and Arguile had settled on their goal they had set to work as if they were about to conduct a military operation.
Kino and the others had listened as Asuna outlined the challenges they would need to overcome in order to make the plan a success. They would need to plan how the team would sneak in, decide on a ship to capture and how they would get aboard without being seen, arrange a pickup location and a backup location to retrieve the rest of their troop, and also plan for an emergency escape.
It had left Kino feeling out of his depth, right up until Asuna had looked him in the eye and asked him to accompany Millia and Caramella on an important mission. To conduct the operation, they would need detailed information about the layout of York. They would also need to find a ship that suited their needs.
It felt like the legendary Flash was asking the impossible of a mere mid level player. But the other Clearers had seemed to agree that his ability to do a little bit of everything had proven invaluable so far. He had felt their confidence in him bolstering his own, and with only a moment's hesitation he had accepted.
The next morning, while Asuna and Arguile watched from afar, Kino had found himself setting out early down the main road towards York in the company of Millia and Caramella. Arriving as the sun rose, they had blended in with the morning masses.
"This place smells like a pig sty," Caramella muttered. The heavy odor of a hundred open air sewers, all gradually making their way cliffwards to form a less than inspiring spray off the cliffs, was carried on the air.
"I rather prefer the country air as well," Millia said, and then emphasized with a smile, "sister." Caramella's face soured.
Millia was in startlingly good spirits for someone placing herself in so much danger. But over the past week a new determination seemed to have blossomed within her.
Kino wondered if it had anything to do with the stories she had told as they traveled. The ones about the Fairy Queen and the Son of Brimir. He tried not to think too hard about it. Millia was a nice person, he didn't want to see her disappointed.
Millia's head seemed to suddenly be on a swivel as concern spread across her face. "There are more Rebels here than I expected."
There were guards at every street corner, and unlike mercenaries or third line troops these men were fully equipped, clad in proper armor and armed with halberds and more than a few guns. Every time he saw a soldier rest his hand on the grip of a pistol he was reminded of his still aching ribs.
"Well, it's a good thing they don't have any business with us now, isn't it sister?" Caramella replied cheekily, giving Millia a slight jab.
The dingy back alley slowly widened as it fed out onto the docks. Kino struggled not to look slack jawed. There were sights, sounds, smells; the voices of hundreds of people all riotously dressed. More of them than he had seen in one place since the Town of Beginnings.
And then there were the ships.
Arriving, departing, moored in wide slips. Tall masts rearranged into wide wings that cantilevered out from the sides of sleek wooden hulls. As he watched, a group of dockworkers labored at a winch, guiding in the ponderous bulk of the latest arrival.
Kino felt a hand on his shoulder. Caramella had become all business. "I know it's like something out of Final Fantasy," she murmured, "but pay attention Kino. We have a job to do."
The boy nodded reluctantly and took a breath.
From beneath a wide brimmed peasant hat, he began to focus on his surroundings. In Aincrad, where every level had possessed its own dangers and wonders, even mid level players had quickly learned to observe everything and admire nothing.
Kino started to take everything in, everything, counting off the streets and alleyways and matching them to the map of the city he was building. There was a guard tower in the far corner of the docks and it looked like the moors would be lit by lamps at night, though not so many that there wouldn't be some good shadows . . .
They wended their way past ships. Sleek clippers with immense sails folded flush with their teardrop hulls, like falcons nesting. Fat cargo ships with many small sails arranged in complicated rigging. And warships, hulls like fat cigars, covered in gun ports. There was no way they would survive if something like that was sent after them.
"That ship looks like it can kick a lot of ass," Caramella sounded impressed.
"She's a ship of the line by looks, so I imagine you're right. Though, the donkeys she spurred were once at the behest of the Royal Family."
"That's not what that mea . . ." Caramella shook her head, "Never mind, you got the idea. So, it's a Royalist ship? Did it get captured?"
Millia shook her head doubtfully. "More likely it defected when the Rebels captured its home port." The young tutor cast her eyes down. "I suppose I can't blame them. The crews have their own families to consider." The last words were spoken like an echo.
Caramella gave a worried look and then glanced to Kino who was as clueless as her. "Anyways," Caramella continued, "we need to find out about the merchant ships."
Millia gave a small nod. "Yes, the Harbor Master's office will have a listing of ship departure schedules and destinations. Though, I don't think we'll be able to book passage without papers . . . "
Caramella stuck out her tongue and followed behind as they made their way through the crowds towards a large tiled building hanging off the edge of the cliffs. There was a sign above the doorway, the Albionian script preceded and followed by a stylized dove.
The inside of the building was constructed of darkly stained wood and lit by both wide windows and skylights. Clerks received clients at counter fronting the reception area. Rather than going up to the desk, Millia turned sharply and walked over to a podium beside the window surrounded by people.
She explained, "It's the mail ship schedule, most captains keep some space for small parcels. This should give us the destinations and departure times, then it's just as simple as going to the dock and asking around."
Squeezing closer, she looked over the shoulder of the others to view the roster.
Once they were back out on the street she spoke. "There are six ships departing for Gallia and four for Germania the day after tomorrow. The Gallian boats are all cargo vessels, but there was a clipper marked for Germania, the Sabrina . . . Is something wrong?"
"For such a big port, ten ships leaving in a day doesn't seem like very many." But on second thought, what did he know?
"There were others, but about half were simple charters across the White Isle. On top of that, there are Reconquista flagged vessels in port right now," Millia explained. "This will probably become a staging area soon."
Instead of returning to the first set of docks, Millia lead them back onto the main street, heading south to where the slips were built high over the river Fosse.
"Oy, careful with that powder!" a voice cried from the deck of a ship.
"Shut your gob, it's packed tight and shut!" a huge man with bronzed skin shouted back from the dock. Muscles bulged as he carried a barrel big enough to hold Kino on one shoulder.
"Just get it into the magazines," the first man shouted before turning his attention back to the deck above. The bronze skinned man planted the barrel on the ground and turned to retrieve another from his wagon.
"Kino, pay attention," Caramella hissed.
"Sorry!" He had already let himself be distracted one too many times.
The clipper Sabrina turned out to be a sleek looking vessel with a knife thin hull. Her wing-sails were folded smoothly along her sides, giving the impression of a cloth draped zeppelin.
They heard a wiry looking bearded man arguing with a rotund customer as they got near. Judging by the fact he could be that fat in the middle of a war, Kino thought he was probably a nobleman. But not the type with lands and a title, his clothes weren't that fancy. He was probably like Millia, a petty noble.
"And I'll have Captain Thorn know about this!"
"Hah! Tell him whatever you like," the wiry man laughed. "What do ya think my Da' will do? Spank me? The Sabrina's a free agent. Unless you think the Good Cromwell would like to make an enemy of every merchant in the Hanza!"
The young man's grin revealed yellowed teeth. "Though for the fastest sails in all of Albion, it might be worth it. Now off with you, I've got more agreeable," the man eyed Millia and Caramella, "and attractive customers waiting."
The nobleman spluttered once, twice, then finally the man turned and stormed off furiously. The sailor turned to the three scouts and greeted them with a wide smile. "And how may I help you this lovely afternoon? Seeking to book passage to Germania?"
"If only we'd the money," Millia sighed. "Alas, noble sir, we seek only to know what cargo you are carrying and if there might be room in your holds for a little more."
"Hardly a noble, Miss, I'd be William Thorn, First Mate. The holds of the Sabrina are small and in high demand, even if hardly a thing is leaving the White Isle these days other than rumors and grief." The man was hamming it up. "Though I can't imagine such ladies as yourselves bringing aboard the latter. May I ask just what the cargo might be?"
"Wine," Millia said immediately.
"Wine?" William asked.
"From the estates of the Windsor family," Millia explained. Kino couldn't miss the way the man took interest.
"And how, mind, did you come by such a thing?"
"We are mere commoners sir," Millia breathed. "We do what we can to survive. For the last few years we've toiled on the Windsor lands. When the Good Cromwell's forces arrived, Reconquista confiscated the family's holdings. However, they missed a few of the cellars."
"Is that so?" William crossed his arms, a grin spreading. "I'm sure the Good Cromwell would be quite sorry to hear he had overlooked such a treasure."
"Truly," Millia agreed. "Which is why we three were tasked with finding a buyer and bringing the casks to market."
"A treacherous journey for a boy and two maidens." William looked impressed.
Kino fought to suppress a growing sense of agitation. He was fourteen, old enough to understand that while this man was doing business, he was also playing a game with Millia and Caramella. Because they were women. He didn't like it.
"Who else to make the journey? Our eldest brother is off to war, and our father is too elderly to travel in these times. Obviously we cannot sell them to anyone in Albion. Few people can afford even the poorest vintage in these times; it would be a shame to sell at such prices."
"I see," William said, stroking his beard. "Well, it's tempting, I'll give you. But it'll be the Captain's decision I'm afraid, and he's out on business until evening."
Millia looked stricken with disappointment. "That's quite alright," she said humbly. "We hardly could be so lucky as to find a buyer on our first try. Still, we must consult elsewhere in any case."
"Aye, I can see how that is, but don't hesitant to come back." William bowed apologetically, "I think the Sabrina may be your good omen if you only let her."
"Seemed friendly enough," Caramella noted out of earshot. "Not that it'll matter. But why wine?"
Millia smiled shyly, "I was just improvising. I needed to think of something that would whet his interest, and I know quite a bit about the wine produced on the Windsor estates. Mostly, I wanted to see if he we would invite us up onto the deck so we could get a look at the cargo they're loading."
"He seemed pretty interested in that wine," Caramella said wearily. "You know the first rule of a bluff is to make sure they won't call it, right?"
"Well," Millia said cautiously, "if it comes to that, there may be a way to acquire a few casks. It just occurred to me that the Windsors used to sell to a trading house in the northern quarter. Since York has kept good order, it's likely that a handful of wine casks are still there waiting shipment. We drain them down and hide inside!"
Caramella let out a long sigh. "This is something you read in an adventure novel, isn't it?"
"How did you know?"
A strange expression crossed Caramella's face. "Right then, We'll talk to Asuna about it, but let's keep that as a backup plan. There's a few other ships to investigate, right?"
"The Queen Ann is the next one," Millia agreed. "She's set to depart for Gallia."
The Queen Ann turned out to be a much larger ship, lacking the elegance of the Sabrina she was wider bodied with many more sails that were relatively smaller.
Kino hung back again as Millia repeated her story to the Ann's First Mate. If he hadn't been distracted by the sights and sounds he might have missed it.
"Faeries?" Kino's eyes widened.
"I'm telling you it happened, a whole island of them off the coast of Tristain. I saw'm myself." Standing along the edge of the dock, a group of sailors was consorting as they smoked. Kino wondered closer.
"Right, more like you had too much to drink and fell outta your bunk," one man said to his fellow as he stamped down on a cigarette butt.
"Wasn't drunk," came the first man's voice, growing low. "Captain had me out on the rigging, I'm not stupid enough to be drunk doing that."
"Eh?" another sailor said. "I've seen you drunk enough to be that stupid." The others started laughing again.
"Enough, if you don't believe me, ask the Captain! The Captain and First Mate spoke with'm."
"Then your Captain must be as touched in the head as you."
"Now wait just a minute," a third man entered the conversation. "I've heard stories about this the last few days. Odd lights flying at night. Our Captain has had us plying far north, so I haven't seen it for myself. Supposing they're demi humans."
"Demi humans?" the sailor who had accused the first of being drunk asked.
"Aye. They look human enough, they've got these tails and animal ears." The man gestured with his hands. "Like cats. Call'm selves something, Catseth, I think."
"Cait Syth," the first sailor corrected. Kino felt his heart thundering in his chest. That was one of the ALfheim races that Kimura had mentioned. "That's what they called'm selves. Cait Syth. And they really did have cats ears I tells ya. You should have seen the ones that boarded us, all youthful beauties with hardly a blemish. And their wings . . ."
"Wings? So they can fly?"
"Are you daft? How else do you think they boarded us underway?" The first sailor waved wildly in an attempt to explain what he was talking about.
"Faeries eh? Ha!" A fourth man shook his head. "Strange times we be living in boys. Wonder if our Captain will try his hand plying the Tristanian routes next."
"Aye, Faeries are good fortune for travelers o' the wind," a fifth man agreed. "Supposen you don't offend them of course."
"I think you'd lot would offend'm just breathing!" the man who had first spoken about the Faeries said crossly, receiving jabs from his companions.
"Eh? What are you doing?!" The man who had been the strongest detractor of the story had caught sight of Kino who had now crept up right next to the group of sailors.
"Wha?" Kino began. Before he could say more he was grabbed by the front of his shirt.
"Aye, a street urchin by the look'o 'im!" the man who had first mentioned the Faeries said.
Glancing down, Kino realized that his hand had come to rest beside a small pouch tied to the man's belt. He tried to come up with an explanation.
"Y-your story sounded exciting!" Kino said quickly. "You really saw Faeries?"
"Poor time to start asking boy." The man who had him by the scruff of the shirt jerked so violently that Kino was sure his teeth rattled.
"Oy, Mullen, just let the boy go, you caught him so what's the harm?" The man who had supported the story about Faeries placed a hand on his friend's shoulder.
"Stay out o' this Rein, last port me purse got swiped, whole journey's pay right out from under me! I've had about enough of it!" He lifted Kino from the ground and was beginning to draw his free arm back.
"Hey now Mullen, don't kill'm!" Rein pleaded. Kino watched as the man's fist began traveling forward, swinging around in an arc that would inevitably connect, painfully.
"What the hell are you doing!" Caramella's voice hammered venomously.
Blinking his eyes, Kino stared at the man's fist, bare inches from his face, and the slimmer hand that held it around the wrist. Through the cuff of her blouse, Kino could see the muscles in Caramella's forearm standing out like bands of steel.
Caramella was a full head shorter than the sailor, but he was losing the fight. His arm was first pulled away from Kino, and then twisted around behind his back. Kino fell to the ground as Caramella put the man into a hold. The tomboyish woman released her victim and delivered a solid kick to his posterior.
This was bad. Seeing the look on her face, Caramella knew she'd made a mistake.
The man named Mullen staggered upright, his face darkening with rage. "Stay out of this you little wench!"
Caramella confronted him, hands held up. "Sorry but I can't stand by while someone bullies a kid. How about we all act like responsible adults, take a breath, and cool off."
"Come on Mullen, this is a bad idea, they'll toss you in the stockades again." Rein tried to calm his friend.
"Shove off!" the big man roared, shifted forward, and charged back at Caramella.
The woman spun aside like a matador and ducked low as the sailor came around with another wild swing. Instead of a closed fist, the man's hand was wide open. Nails scratched along Caramella's forehead.
Reflexively the former army player wrenched downward, tucking into a forward roll that left the enraged sailor clutching only a few loose hairs, and her scarf.
Caramella looked about wild eyed. The sailors had all gone still. The air around Kino suddenly felt thick, like it was holding him in place. Mullen stared at the cloth in his hand. Caramella suddenly paled. The sailor slowly took a step back.
"E-el-ELF!"
The cry broke against the sounds of the dock, shattering them like glass. Quiet. Then all hell broke loose. The crowds, frozen for an instant, exploded outward in a human wave, fronted by shrill screams of fear.
Caramella stood alone at ground zero. She looked to Kino and mouthed 'Millia' before turning and breaking into a run. She snatched up her fallen scarf before crashing into the crowd and disappearing. Kino wanted to run after her, but he caught sight of Millia lost in the confusion.
"Kino, what's happening?" the young tutor asked. "Where's Caramella?"
Kino grabbed Millia's hand and began to pull. "We have to get out of here."
The initial wave of living terror had rebounded as it crashed into the surrounding streets. The people who had seen Caramella first hand had been scattered and formed pockets of shapeless fear repeating cries of "Elf!"
A pair of dragons swept overhead. With sinuous grace, they folded their wings, plummeting from rooftop height and crashing to the ground in a momentum conserving forward gallop.
"Order! Order!" the man atop the first dragon roared as his mount minced over the crowd and formed a living barricade. "In the name of Lord Cromwell I demand that order be kept!"
"Sir!" a foot soldier shouted up to the mounted knight. In one hand he held a primed pistol, the other was clamped around the arm of one of the sailors. "This man made the first call. He says it was an Elf!"
"An Elf?" the knight said severely. The milling crowd was on the verge of panic again. "Order! I will have order or I will have you all in chains!" More than the man's voice, the low growling of his mount silenced the crowd. "Sergeant! I want these docks searched, nobody leaves until I am satisfied."
The soldiers pressed in on the crowd, driving them slowly back. The same scene was repeated along the other streets. Over the fearful murmurs, Kino heard the distant ringing of bells alerting the city to danger. He was stunned by how quickly word of danger could spread in a world without phones or message windows. They were going to be boxed in.
Kino's eyes settled on the far docks. Recalling what he had seen there, he grimaced. This was a bad idea, a very, very bad idea. He'd be endangering innocent people, but if they were captured, he'd be endangering all of his friends. "Millia, stay here, I'll be right back."
"Kino?!"
The boy ducked back into the crowd, pushing past beneath the notice of the bystanders. He was able to get behind the crowd still pressing against the gradual advance of the soldiers. The area around the docks were completely abandoned, even the sailors had evacuated with the calls of "Elf".
There along the side of the docks, the wagon was still half loaded. One of the barrels sat fallen on the ground, Kino unsheathed a knife and carefully pried the lid open.
Something dark and coarse spilled dryly from the barrel. Cupping his hands, he scooped up a double handful of the powder and began to work his way back towards the stalls, laying a trail and silently hoping that this would work like he thought it would.
He fished around in his pocket for the piece of flint he used to start campfires. Then, flipping his knife, he took a breath, said a small prayer to whatever gods presided over gunpowder, and struck the edge of the flint.
The powder ignited with a vicious hiss of flame. Kino immediately broke into a run. He had no idea how big the explosion would be. It couldn't be that big, right?
No sooner was he diving back into the crowd than he learned just how wrong he was. The earth shook with a terrible deep boom and a flash of light and heat. The crowd surged forward all at once, overwhelming the startled soldiers as they became a human stampede.
Fighting against the current, Kino struggled back to where he had left Millia. "Kino!" she cried, and then, "What did you do?!"
The masses fleeing in terror offered them safety in anonymity, but there was also danger. If they fell, they would be trampled under foot. The mob crashed out onto the surrounding streets. There was more room to move out here. Racing ahead, Kino followed the back alleys, Millia panting desperately to keep up.
"Just a little further!" Kino pleaded, he hadn't realized until just then how weak a normal person was.
"I've got her," a wiry shoulder slipped beneath Millia's arm, propping her up. Kino looked up to see the Sabrina's First Mate looking down at him. "Quite a ruckus this afternoon. Nasty business with that powder, yes? Suppose old Captain Jarno shouldn't have leaped ship at the first sign of trouble."
The man smiled, "Not that I mind, so long as the Sabrina is safe." Kino didn't answer. "I just thought I'd be out to collect the Captain you see. It's entirely a coincidence that we're going the same direction. And if it does happen that it was you back there, well, it just so happens we're off to somewhere you might lay low."
Finally, looking at Millia who was barely standing, he decided to chance it. "Why?"
The man gave a yellow toothed smile. "Anything that causes Reconquista some hell tickles me. Besides, that lovely miss you were with made off like a sprite the second people starting shouting Elf. That there is interesting!"
Kino thought quickly. Looking to Millia, he realized he was asking too much of her to keep up. They didn't have a lot of options. "Where is this place we're going?"
William's smile widened. "Aye. We want the Black Dragon, follow me and we'll be on our way."
Even though the man was half carrying Millia, he moved with a distance eating stride that was not quite comfortable for Kino to either walk or run. The young knife user's eyes darted back and forth as their path took them further into narrow back alleys. The sky closed in above them, buildings leaning over the street, turning, then turning again until the sounds of the crowd and even the alarm bells grew distant.
Ahead of them, a sign marked with a coal black snake-like dragon breathing flames hung beside a narrow doorway fronting a dingy windowed establishment. They were almost there when a hand stretched out and grabbed hold of William, dragging him into shadows, and Millia along with him.
"Millia!" cried Kino. Before he had so much as moved, he felt a gentle gust of wind and cold steel at his throat.
A young man appeared beside him, pale skin covered in grime, bright blue eyes shining beneath raggedly cut greasy black hair. "Your concern is commendable, but we mean you no harm," he murmured. Despite the blade he had pressed to Kino's throat, he seemed much more focused on Millia, who was finally finding time to catch her breath.
"Stop!" William hissed quickly. "There's no danger."
"For him maybe," a tall, gray bearded man growled from the dark. "You on the other hand, what are you doing leaving the ship at a time like this?"
"Ah, sorry Da' . . . Captain," William replied quickly. "But you see, I couldn't leave these two on the docks."
"And where did you get it in your head to decide that?" the older man, apparently the Captain of the Sabrina asked.
"You shoulda seen it Da'," William chuckled, "this little urchin probably sank old Jarno's ship."
"The Anna Sophia?" the Captain of the Sabrina asked. "Well, I've been wishing a pox on that fool since he got issued that Letter of Marque. So that's what's causing the bells?"
"Actually, the gunpowder came later," William said. "Seems we might have an Elf in the city." He nodded to Kino and Millia. "And these two might know something about it."
Without hesitating the Captain of the Sabrina cuffed his First Mate across the side of the head. "And your first thought was to bring them here? You bloody idiot! I should'o taken your sister into the skies with me instead, you no good . . ."
"Captain Thorn," the black haired youth said.
"Drinking. . ."
"Captain Thorn," he repeated again.
"Womanizing . . ."
"Mister Duran Thorn!" the youth hissed, bringing the Captain's tirade to halt.
"It's quite alright. Your son did the right thing." Looking to Millia, he smiled warmly. "It's been quite a while, hasn't it Emily?"
'Emily?' Kino thought.
Recognition dawned in Millia's eyes. "Wales?"
Wales Tudor, Crown Prince of Albion, last Admiral of the Royal Fleet, at least when there had been a fleet to command, was left at a loss for words as he regarded the two individuals before him. One was a stranger. The other was someone he had thought dead.
"E-excuse me," the strange boy he had at sword point spoke shyly. "Millia-san? What does he mean by 'Emily'?"
Wales glanced to Emily, who gave a small nod. The Prince lowered and sheathed his blade in a fluid motion.
Emily looked to the boy. "I'm sorry Kino, you've all been so kind to me, and I've only repaid that kindness with deception. Millia is an affectation from my childhood, and Winfield isn't my surname, it was the surname of my tutor when I was a child. I am Emily Florence Windsor, third daughter of the Earl of Windsor."
"Now, the rightful Countess of Windsor," Wales corrected.
Emily turned to him, "Then my father is truly dead?"
Wales refused to look his childhood companion in the eye. "He perished with the Interceptor. He and his crew took two ships of the line with them into the mists."
Emily was left speechless for only a moment. "That . . . would be my father's way. He always said he would die in the skies."
As Wales reached to place a hand upon her shoulder, the boy, Kino, stepped forward and grabbed Emily's hand, squeezing gently.
The sudden contact seemed to console Emily who smiled sadly. "It is alright, I've known for a while now that my father was more likely dead than alive. All that is left is to shed tears. But not yet." Wiping at her eyes, her face betrayed no hint of turmoil. "Wales, just what are you doing in York? Are you trying to get yourself killed?"
Hearing the bossy undertones Wales grinned. "Quite the contrary." He gestured to the Captain of the Sabrina. "Captain Thorn here is sympathetic to our cause."
The elder Thorn nodded gruffly. Truthfully, his reasons for aiding the Royalists were ones of revenge. A half-Germanian, his cousins had been retainers loyal to the Royalists and his brother an Albionian priest who had spoken out once too often against Lord Cromwell.
A merchant by inclination, Captain Thorn had set about investing his fortunes in spite. Bringing the Royalists news of supply shipments and using his contacts to learn of the fleet's patrol routes, it was his intelligence reports which had allowed Wales to sustain his daring campaign against the Rebels.
"So, Mil- Emily-san is really a Countess?" Kino asked.
"She will be, if ever the Rebels are defeated," Wales said with more confidence than he felt. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Wales Tudor. Thank you for watching after my cousin." He smiled, "I know she can be quite a handful."
"Yes, why don't you go shouting your names and family history on an open street?" Captain Thorn growled as his eyes darted up and down the street. The old sailor had let go of his son and was now appraising the two new arrivals. "Best be getting back inside, then these two can explain everything about Elves."
Kino shook his head suddenly. "There's no time! Millia . . . Emily-san? You'll be safe with these people, right? They'll protect you?" The boy's eyes were dark and serious, and Wales suspected, older than they should be.
"It's not our policy to let a Lady come to harm," Captain Thorn assured, jabbing his son in the side. Thorn the younger gave a sound of agreement.
"I will vouch for the honor of these men," Wales swore solemnly.
"Then, Emily-san, please stay with these people for now. I have to go help Caramella."
Emily grabbed the boy by the shoulder. "No, Kino that's too dangerous! You saw the skies, they've set dragons after her!"
"That's why I can't abandon her! This was my mistake. If something happens, please find Asuna-sama and tell her that the sailors on the docks were talking about Faeries in a place called Tristain."
Wales felt his brows rise. Emily answered with a pleading glance.
"Aye, boy, you want to save your friend. I can fathom that," Captain Thorn said. "But we run a tight operation here. You've seen the Prince and you've seen me in his company. Now come along and we'll . . ." As the Captain made to grab Kino by the shoulder, the boy's small frame skipped back out of reach.
Kino smiled. "Take care, Millia-chan." And then in a blink he was sprinting away, not just sprinting, almost flying. Before Kino had gone even a dozen steps Wales summoned forth a cantrip, a burst of wind catching the boy in the legs and throwing him skidding to the ground.
Captain Thorn drew and leveled a pistol on the child's prone figure. "Hold still boy! I don't want to shoot at a child, but you're fixing to get yourself killed either way."
"Please!" Emily shouted, pulling at the arm of the Captain of the Sabrina.
The boy struggled back to his feet. "Don't stop me!" He looked to be near tears. "They're going to kill her!" He froze as a second pistol was drawn by Thorn the younger.
"You're brave lad. You do your friends proud, but how about you cool your heels?"
"Would you care to explain, Emily?" Wales asked softly. His cousin looked pensive. Even when they had been children, she had never been good at hiding things. "Emily."
"They are not what you think," she said quickly. "That is, they are not what Reconquista will claim they are."
"And what will Reconquista claim?"
"They'll claim," Emily hesitated and then began again. "They'll say that they are Elves."
"Elves?" Wales asked, his head whipping back to Kino. The idea that this boy might be one of the great enemy seemed laughable.
"But they're not, they're . . . I'm not sure, but I think they may really be Faeries. Like the fables of Queen Medb. At least, I've allowed myself to hope that they are a sign." Stepping forward, Emily placed her hands against Wales' chest and looked up at him seriously.
Always as children she had trailed along, hungry for adventure but too frightened to lead the way. Not now, however. Where had this conviction come from?
"They saved me. They may look like Elves, but I swear by the Founder that they are not. That's why," she breathed, "that's why if there is anything you can do, you must help them."
Wales looked from the Captain, to Emily, and then back down the alleyway, mind working quickly. He was not stupid. Stupid men did not live long in a war. Even so, he looked at Emily, who by all reason should be dead. With a deep sigh the Prince nodded. "Captain, can I ask that you keep Emily safe for me."
"Oy, you too now? I thought the House of Air had avoided idiocy in their line." The belittling remark by the Captain of the Sabrina went unanswered by the Prince Valiant.
"Wales?" Emily asked, startled, as he stepped away. "What are you doing?"
"As you wish my dear cousin," Wales gave a small bow. "I cannot say what help I might be, but if it is within my power, I will deliver your friends to safety." He glanced at the boy. "But know that this will be dangerous. I cannot be responsible for your life."
Kino didn't reply with with words, instead, he removed his wide brimmed farmer's hat, revealing a dark knit cap. Wales hissed softly as he saw the boy's ears before Kino pulled the cap down over them.
"Kino, was it? Stay with me. And do exactly as I say. First, we follow the dragons."
Caramella dodged left down another alleyway and cursed as it turned into a dead end. The cries of soldiers chased her. To her left stood a door; she charged in, leading with her right shoulder, right into the back of a tavern. Startled guests stumbled up from their seats as she bolted through the room and out the front door.
A shadow swept across the street. From high above, the lithe form a dragon circled back around like the Mechanical Insect Queen Floor Boss of Aincrad's lower levels, staying just out of reach. Which meant the guy up top aggroing all of the foot patrols was probably a whole other Boss in his own right.
"There she is!" The men ahead of her had formed into a line, leveling their halberds.
Caramella leaped up onto an awning, bypassing the street altogether while staying below the level of the rooftops. There was a loud crack and something whistled past her head. Down on the ground a Reconquista soldier was already drawing another pistol.
'Not such a good idea,' she thought, dropping from her elevated vantage and diving onto another side street. She crashed face first into the steel chest plate of a burly soldier.
"I've got her!" the man roared. Caramella delivered a vicious right hook and felt a satisfying crunch as she shattered his nose. She yanked the man's sword from its scabbard as he fell; it felt like an old friend.
As long as she could keep the soldiers from getting a clear shot she still had a chance. Just as long as she didn't run into a ma- Caramella was picked up off her feet and driven bodily into a wall, the force of the blow causing her to collapse in a heap.
She sucked in a breath of air, then staggered to her feet. Another spell gave the whitewashed wooden building beside her a new floor-to-ceiling window.
Another pair of mages appeared from a side street, and then a fourth. For some reason they weren't resorting to lethal attacks. It took longer than it should have for her to realize what was up. They were corralling her.
She ran. She left the foot soldiers behind, but the wind mages were keeping up somehow, probably the same way they were coordinating, via magic. The guy up above on the dragon had been playing the long game, getting the ground troops into position.
Suddenly, Caramella felt the air around her beginning to press down hard. She stumbled, her body trembling as she fought just to stay upright. A troop of foot soldiers was approaching, swords drawn; behind them a quartet of mages chanted and cast in sequence. She felt the oppressive weight lightening before it crashed back down.
"Surround her!" shouted one of the soldiers, giving an exaggerated nod. "We have an earth mage on the way to form proper restraints."
"No!" She knew with grim finality that if she hit the ground she wasn't going to be able to get back up. 'Someone, please, help me, anyone . . .'
"If you can still stand, you'll have a window to move shortly."
Caramella's eyes widened and darted about, looking for the source of the voice. But no one was speaking to her, rather she felt it, like it was inside her head. "There's a drain that connects to a lower street about twenty mails ahead of you on the left. Take that and head south."
As soon as the voice vanished one of the casting mages fell backwards, and for a precious moment the spell holding her in place weakened. Caramella pushed off with hands and feet, sprinting forward.
Twenty mails, that was about . . . thirteen meters? Which would mean . . . here! A narrow stone trench cut between two buildings, plummeting steeply to a lower street. Caramella skidded down the drain, slipping on dried moss and loose stone.
The voice in her head. Had she really just called it that? Had been right. The second and third floors of the buildings were built facing inward so that only a narrow sliver of sky could be seen. So far so good, she bolted south past confused onlookers back towards the chaos.
The drain let out onto a small market fronting a single empty slip. "Now, head east along the dock, there should be a narrow footpath that leads down to a terrace." Caramella's spine tingled as the voice seemed to echo around inside her head. "We'll be there shortly."
"Narrow footpath" turned out to be an understatement. A thin stone walkway clung close to the face of the cliffs. Caramella cursed under her breath as she peeked over the edge. She swore that she would never go anyplace high ever again, and cursed Kimura for not knowing how to teach them to use their wings.
She was eventually deposited onto a semi-circular balcony overlooking the river. This had to be the place. The sound of heavy boots came from ahead, beneath a broad archway that served as the main entrance to the terrace came a squad of soldiers followed closely by a pair of mages.
Caramella found herself with her back to the cliff. She raised her sword, bitterly resigned.
"We have you surrounded, there's no escape," one of the mages spat. "Submit now and the Founder's Mercy will be granted to you."
'Yeah right,' she thought.
The voice rattled around in her head again. Now that she had the time to pay attention, she could sense a faint vibration between her teeth. "I know you've no reason to trust me," the voice said, "but if you wish to live, then play along."
Caramella tilted her head to the left, sweeping her eyes across the crowd. Two figures struggled to the front of the mercenary formation, a filthy young man in mismatched armor with greasy black hair, and a shorter hunched figure in a cloak.
'Kino!'
"Aye! What are you doing?" the other mage shouted.
"Oy, she's just a Gel', we can take her, Elf'er not!" a youth strode out from the line of soldiers, walking with an exaggerated swagger. "Come on Stumpy, it'll be a bonus fer us if we capture'r!"
"That is an Elf, you commoner sell sword!" the mage spat. "I order you to step back at once!"
Ignoring the order the boy thrust forward with his sword, a telegraphed strike that Caramella batted aside before stepping in to counter. To the onlookers it looked like he was giving the Elf a good fight. The soldiers were in fact cheering as the mages screamed for order. Suddenly the youth rushed in, locking swords.
This close, she could see right into his clear blue eyes. "Listen closely, it is absolutely essential that you do not block my next strike."
They broke contact, the youth skirting around her to switch places, so that Caramella's sword arm was facing the cliffs. With a flourish the boy rushed in again, and Caramella left him an opening in her guard. She hissed as she felt cold steel barely graze her side. At the same time the youth hooked his free arm around her sword and let out a dramatic gasp.
"She 'as me!" the youth cried. "A curse upon you, Elven wench!" The boy lurched to the side. Caramella felt her hip pressing against the low lip of the terrace, her eyes going wide as Kino crashed into her. Instead of pulling her back from the edge, he pushed.
She felt her center of gravity slowly shifting out, out, out. Kino pulled, but too late, he was dragged along with her. And then her stomach was fighting its way up her throat as the abyss yawned out to meet her. Caramella screamed, cursing her own stupidity, and cursing the youth who had just killed them.
As soon as they had cleared the edge Wales drew his wand, the task complicated by the woman screaming beside him. Though to be fair, he would be screaming too if he'd thought he was plummeting to his death.
He wrapped his arm tighter around the woman's waist. She tried to struggle, but Kino was able to get his arms around her too, holding on tightly. Wales incanted with a short wave of his wand, he felt the grip of gravity abating as their fall slowed ever so slightly. Beneath them, the River Fosse loomed ever larger.
Striking the water felt like a body blow. All was darkness for one brief moment.
Opening his eyes, he released his breath and chased the bubbles to the surface. He broke through with a gasp, the cliff tops already curving out of view as the river ran deep and swift towards the White Isle's edge.
To his left he saw Kino and Caramella breach the surface too. He quickly swam perpendicular to the current, there wasn't much time before they reached the spill over the edge.
Caramella let out a shout of outrage when she saw where they were headed. "Quickly!" Wales shouted. "Make for the banks there!" Not far past this point, the Fosse would plunge downwards into rapids and both banks would turn into sheer cliffs.
Whatever misgivings the woman had, she did as he said. Despite her dress hampering her she proved a startlingly powerful swimmer, and was even now pulling ahead. Finally, they fought their way ashore upon the Fosse's gravelly banks.
His eyes turned to Caramella and the delicately pointed ears that protruded from her head. It was all too easy to attach the title of Elf to her, and yet Emily insisted she was not. Given the utter lack of magic she had exhibited, Wales was inclined to agree.
The woman, still catching her breath, noticed Wales' gaze. "You freaking idiot! You could've gotten us killed! Where did Kino dig you up?"
Such language coming from the fairer sex, Wales was given pause.
"And you!" She turned on Kino. "I told you to watch after Millia!"
"Millia is safe, of that I promise," Wales replied.
"And why the hell should I trust you?" the woman snapped. "Who the hell are you?"
"He's her cousin, and a prince!" Kino said.
"A prince?"
Kino nodded fervently. "Millia knows him, and she trusts him. We left her with people who will be able to keep her safe."
The woman's anger guttered out as she appraised the boy's words, then she let out a sigh. "You're sure, Kino?"
"I'm pretty sure," he said carefully. "But everything went crazy really fast. I'll tell you all about it once we're away from here."
Caramella nodded slowly and then suddenly wrapped her arms tightly around the boy. "Jeez, how can such a little kid be such a big idiot?" Then, looking back to Wales, "Thanks, for the rescue," she said gruffly.
"It was nothing at all," the Prince replied, sensing that this was the closest he would get to an apology. "But we truly must be going."
Up above, three sinewy shapes flew out over the city and swept down along the river Fosse. Wales cursed inwardly, Dragon Knights.
Even if they made it into the concealment of the forest, there would be little safety. Fire drakes to ignite foliage and wind mages to drive the flames were a powerful combination, and one that had driven more than a few fleeing Royalists to their deaths.
Wales swung about and cast a short air jet aimed at the lead drake's wings. The beast staggered in the air, but it was a trained war mount with a skilled rider. The rider was a good deal more potent, a vortex of air formed and shaped itself into an elongated spear.
Wales was already countering, catching the construct and diffusing it back into its components, then combining it with his own willpower to produce a vortex that mixed with the dirt and sand about them. With careful timing he swept the augmented construct up into the path of the following knight.
"Damn, don't you have anything like a tornado spell or something that can knock one of those things out of the air?" Caramella shouted as they continued to run towards cover.
"If only!" Wales spat back.
"Kino?" Caramella questioned. The boy drew a small, lethal looking dagger.
"That won't touch them," Wales warned.
He felt the hairs on his neck stand on end as a terrible heat erupted behind them, followed by one of the drakes sweeping past, streamers of fire still pouring from its mouth.
Caramella groaned. Suddenly the woman redoubled her efforts, snatching up Wales and leaning into a full tilted sprint. "This . . . is . . . stupid!"
As ridiculous as this arrangement was, it meant he could concentrate on casting. Wales aimed over Caramella's shoulder and let fly with an air spear of his own, forcing the second knight to concentrate on defending himself.
They were almost to the nearest of the trees.
The knights above were quickly tiring of their lack of success. Splitting apart, each began to circle in a different direction. Wales grimaced, a strafing run.
"Miss Caramella, you may wish to part company with me here," Wales said. "If we scatter, there may be a chance for you to escape."
"Gah! What are you saying?" the woman snapped. "You're the only one who can counterattack so they'll go for you first. Letting an idiot like you die would leave a bad taste in my mouth!"
The drakes began their arc inwards from three of the four cardinal directions. Wales caught sight of something moving like a comet. Looking right, he nearly missed it as two shapes streaked into the sky in shallow arcs that intercepted the lead knight at his lowest approach.
The knight had only a moment to respond, blasting once with a cantrip gale, before bringing his wand-cane up in a guard as the second missile crashed into him and swept him from his mount.
The first shape, now resolved into a petite cloaked figure, hit the ground in a skid as it dug in with its feet, coming to a halt in a cloud of dust only a scant few mails in front of Wales. It took a guard stance, wielding a slender sword of gleaming silver white.
The lead knight let loose a cry of fear and rage as he plummeted thirty odd mails from the sky, his attacker locking swords with his cane and preventing him from casting as they crashed into the ground. The dragon, startled and thrown off balance by the loss of its rider, came to the ground in a rough landing, releasing a low roar of its own.
"Caramella, Kino, where is Millia?" the cloaked figure asked. The voice was soft and feminine, and was honed by an edge of urgency.
"She's safe," Kino reported.
The figure simply nodded, turning to the rampaging fire dragon before she glanced at Wales. "I saw you fighting. Do they have any weak points that I should aim for?"
Weak points?
Wales had never heard of any secret to slaying a dragon on foot, save ample magic or a cannon. But considering the way the girl had moved just a moment before, "Not a weakness exactly, but the base of the skull, behind the crest. Strike deeply and the bone will guide your blade to the spine. Other than that, the base of the wings, behind the joint."
She nodded, and then seemed not so much to move, as to blink someplace else. Between the time that Wales realized she had moved and found her again, she had already landed on the grounded dragon's back, crouching as it bucked to toss her. Her sword drove true, the dragon released a roar as its wing fell limp.
The remaining knights closed, intent on incineration.
"Arguile," the girl shouted to her companion, "switch!"
The lead dragon spat a jet of fire.
"Asuna-sama!" Kino shouted at Wales' side. Then, above the wash of flame, Wales saw her descending in an arc that intersected flawlessly with the neck of the second drake. Dazzled, the rider didn't see her until she was on top of him.
The dragon died as the girl turned and plunged her rapier into the base of its skull. The mage knight shouted in surprise as she dashed past him, racing along the spine and tail of his mortally stricken mount, before vaulting back out into the open sky.
The dead dragon slowly listed, its rider leaped free.
Wales didn't give him a chance to land. The Prince enjoyed the luxury of time, incanting an air dervish. The falling knight never saw the ball of writhing knife-sharp air that sent him to his death.
The last Dragon Knight moved to break off his run as the airborne girl headed towards him. An air whip swiped at the impossible girl as she twisted in midair, missing her but ripping away her cloak.
The Prince felt utter disbelief strike him as the form of the swordswoman was laid bare. Beautiful hazel hair shone with a bright luster, whipping about in the airstream, and from her back stretched wings of white that glowed with a pure inner light.
For one moment the being before him was not a girl, or even a Faerie, but something else. Wings raked back, she was an embodiment of focus, a vessel for the blade in her hand, which flashed blood red in the sun.
The knight fell from his mount with only a gurgling scream and once again the girl clipped the wings of a dragon, forcing the stricken beast to land. She rushed up its neck and finished once more with a blow to the skull. The drake stumbled once in a dying reflex before digging a rut into the earth.
The girl fell softly from its snout, wiping her blade and resheathing it without breaking stride.
She was truly only a girl, Her features were exotic, but their softness reminded him very much of his beloved Henrietta. She looked in the direction of the first fallen dragon. Her companion had attacked the beast with several powerful strokes of his two handed sword. The drake lay on the ground, growling in a labored fashion as its lifeblood drained from deep gashes along its throat. Finally, the beast's eyes closed and it became still.
All was silence.
Wales heard a hissed intake of air. The girl stood trembling, hand clutched tightly around the hilt of her rapier. Then, slowly, her body loosened. The wings on her back sank until they nearly brushed the earth.
She turned back slowly to face them.
Finally, something in him bubbled up, and he almost laughed at it all. He'd begun this day setting out to buy his Royalists a few more days of life, and now he had met a Faerie and saved her life at the side of another, only to be saved by a third and fourth. Was this what had given Emily such hope?
Cocking her head, the girl gave Wales a questioning look.
"My sincerest apologies." Wales bowed, "Forgive me, but . . . " he breathed slowly, "you wouldn't happen to by the Faerie Queen, would you?"
The girl's eyes widened and her face turned dark. Truly, Wales didn't know what he had done to receive such a slap.
Looking down upon the scene of the battle, the Captain listened dispassionately to the report provided by his subordinate. Three fire drakes and their riders slain. What was stranger, the dragons had all been killed by sword strikes, in two cases, surgically applied at an angle that could only be achieved by the riders themselves.
His eyes narrowed. He had no doubt that this was connected to the woman spotted in the southern dock plaza. She had escaped him, but only with the aid of accomplices. "Very well Sergeant, see to the bodies of the knights, we'll send for laborers to render down the dragons for reagents."
"Yes, Sir Dunwell." The Sergeant saluted and turned to relay the orders.
"Kyuii!" his drake let out the soft cry unique to wind dragons.
"That is the question, isn't it, Scirroco?"
That woman, Elf, half-Elf, Spirit; whatever she was, she had not been human. If this was the result of her actions, then it was a matter that would need to be dealt with.
"Sir Wells," Dunwell turned to his lieutenant.
"Sir?"
"Send a message to Londinium. I will be taking responsibility for this matter myself."