Chapter 3: Beast of Man

3 Years Later

Daniel walked out of his tent, still somewhat bleary from the first watch of the night before as he rubbed at his eyes. That the watch had the background of siege works clattering and clashing, men shouting at each other at odd hours, and a fair few arquebus shots hadn't helped matters.

The rest of the camp, the soldier's portion at least, seemed abuzz with activity. Gambino must have been planning something. So, he decided to seek the man out.

It wasn't hard to spot him, surrounded by the captains that were his usual retinue. "I imagine we're going to be making a try at breaching the walls, sir?" he said as he came to a stop beside two of the captains.

Gambino nodded. "We've been pounding at the door for the past 2 months now. It's time we used Fair Giselle and Sable Unicorn to kick it down and invite ourselves in."

Daniel nodded. A pair of siege cannon shots t batter down the already weakened gates. He expected nothing less. "What's everyone's orders?"

"Once the gate's open, we are the vanguard. That means, today, that we clear out the keep and the walls while the main Tudor army watches our backs."

Gambino looked around him. "Horace, you'll take your men and work with Rickard's to sweep to the left of the walls. Gerard and Donovan's men will be sweeping the right. I'll take Wendell, and our men will storm the citadel itself."

Daniel's fist clenched at the mention of Donovan's name for a moment before he nodded. "Sounds like a full day. Am I still with you?"

Gambino nodded. "You are. And Guts is as well."

Daniel's eyes went wide. "Sir… he's only 9 years old."

"So?" Gambino interjected, waving the captains away to prepare for the assault. "He's been hanging off your neck, and mine, for years now. He either gets to prove he sticks around, or he gets tossed out. Even with money as good as it is, we can't afford a useless mouth to feed."

"He still needs more training, and even beyond that, any man larger than him poses a serious threat to him. Which are most men."

"The tough little bastard's survived battle before. And that was before you started training him. He should be fine." Gambino paused for a moment before his eyes narrowed. "Unless you don't feel confident that your training's stuck."

Daniel opened his mouth for a moment, then closed it as he shook his head. "No. He's a quick learner if nothing else."

He paused for a moment. "But he's staying by my side. I won't let him out of my sight."

Gambino regarded Daniel silently before finally shrugging. "What the hell. Why not? As long as he's in his armor and ready to go, I don't care."

Daniel nodded, a feeling of defeat welling in his chest even as he felt sure he could keep Guts safe if he needed to. "I'll make sure that he's ready."

. . .

Guts adjusted his helmet to get it to sit comfortably, crouching in the trench with the other men as he shifted the grip on his sword. As he'd grown these past few years, the size of the sword had grown with him. It had forced Daniel to adjust his teaching somewhat, but many of the basic principles remained.

As he waited in the trench, listening to the battle raging around him, the pounding of his heartbeat nearly drove away the sounds that surrounded him. He gripped the hilt of his sword tighter, feeling some small amount of reassurance in the solid, steady feeling that holding his sword gave him.

Then, he felt a firm grip on his shoulder, and he looked up into the face of Daniel's helmet. It was dark and, frankly, somewhat imposing, but the nod it gave him put him at ease even before the man whose face was behind it spoke. "Just stay close to me. Shouldn't be that hard, right?"

Guts chuckled uneasily. Easier said than done, from what little he'd seen of the madhouse that battle could be.

"We're almost ready. Be ready to move when our cannons fire at the gate."

Guts nodded and watched the gate intently. It stood fast, for now, with more than a few crossbow bolts stuck in the somewhat splintered doors, the iron bars that reinforced it dented and charred from fire from smaller cannonballs. Then, he heard the twin booms of their monstrous cannons, watched their pitch-black spheres zip by, and saw the gate explode, massive slivers of wood flying into the air as the doors collapsed on themselves.

He looked up to see Gambino crest the top of the trench and look back at them. "Alright, guys! First one through the gate gets a nice bonus! Let's make some money!"

As the men got ready, one of the soldiers on Guts' left looked over at him. "Don't do more than you can, kid. You slip up, everything's over out here."

Guts nodded as he stood and readied his weapon. Before he could go, he saw Gambino look back at him. "Guts!" he shouted. "Welcome to your first real battle. Pull your weight!"

Gambino turned back to the gate, pointing his sword at the enemy soldiers who gathered on its threshold. "Now, charge!"

With a great shout, they all swarmed across the distance between their trench and the gate, spreading out as the quickest among them slammed into the frontline first, the defenders holding as best they could.

Guts' focus tunneled, even as he tried to make sure it didn't, on the gate before him, the rest of the battle that surrounded the place falling away as he charged. He saw out of the corner of his vision as Daniel slammed into an enemy soldier, sending the man tumbling to the ground before stabbing at him with the sword spear that was completely, utterly his own.

Then, he saw the man coming towards him. Easily twice his size, wearing full plate and a beaked helmet, his sword raised for a cleaving blow that would have cut deep into Guts' skull if he hadn't blocked it.

In the press, as Daniel had called it, he dueled the knight, parrying a thrust to the side and swinging into the opening he created. The blow simply skated off of the man's shoulder, the weight of the blow still causing him to stumble slightly to the side. 'Not enough power.' he gripped as he blocked another blow.

Their blades went back and forth for a few moments more before the knight's blade slipped past a gap in Guts' defense, the tip slamming into his helmet as he leaned back, knocking it off.

Though he was mostly unscathed, the force of the blow sent him to the ground regardless. Then the knight was over him, and Guts reacted by stabbing up wildly, twisting his head away as much as he could.

He found himself more than a little surprised when he felt the tip of his blade make contact, stopping short as he looked back up and saw his sword buried in the other knight's neck, blood falling down its length as the man went limp.

The dead knight fell to the side, and Guts couldn't help but stare at him for a moment as he tried to get up. 'Wait a minute. Don't focus too much!'

He looked back to see a massive figure above him, a many-headed flail raised to strike down at him. As Guts shouted and began to draw back, the weapon came down… and the chain wrapped itself around the blade of Daniel's swordspear, tangling itself as Daniel tried to jostle the weapon away, receiving a hearty smack from the knight's shield into his chest that caused him to stumble back.

As Guts got to his feet, he saw a sword flash in from behind the knight, slicing into the neck of the man's armor and sending a spray of blood out toward Daniel. Guts' eyes went wide as he saw Gambino extract his sword from the dying knight, walking past him before looking back. "Stop standing around!" he shouted. "It's going to get you killed!"

"Now hurry up!" he continued as Guts put his helmet back on. "We've got work to do still!"

. . .

As Daniel stayed by Guts' side, the pair driving their way into the castle alongside their compatriots, he kept his head on a swivel as they entered the castle itself. Now, it got even more dangerous from here. Any room could hold someone waiting with a dagger or a crossbow, or even an arquebus from one of the walls. A fact that he heard in the crack of a shot, nearly deafening in these hallways, going through a man further up in another hall.

"Stay close to me," he said to Guts. "Your sword and my swordspear aren't going to be terribly good for wide swings in here. Focus on thrusts and put the other man's blade into the walls when you can."

If Guts said something, he didn't hear it as they continued on, coming to a stop several times as they checked every room for a potential ambusher. As they heard the fighting continue, Daniel shook his head. 'Fascinating how the master of this castle hasn't called a surrender already. He's either brave or utterly stupid.'

The next door they opened, Daniel peeked in, then looked in for a moment longer as he confirmed that there were no waiting assailants, pushing the door open and walking into what looked like a small armory. "Guts, watch my back."

"Yes, sir." the boy said as Daniel looked around. The room was small, and the wares sufficiently similar, that this grouping of weapons was likely part of some knight or nobleman's collection.

"Quite the find," Daniel said as he looked around. "Whoever has this must be a favorite. Or a collector."

He came to a stop in front of a particular weapon, one that seemed to be held in high esteem even for its simplicity. It was a hand-and-half sword, a decently long one, paired with what looked like a somewhat broad parrying dagger, adorned with surprisingly simple hilts of gleaming metal and leather, both sheathed in a scabbard designed to keep them close at hand.

The sight reminded Daniel of more than a few times long ago when he had wielded such a pair of weapons himself. A distant, feudal future. And, perhaps especially, a dying time. A time of the Abyss, and its watchers in the kingdom of Farron.

Faces, names, and the memories that came with them raced through his mind as he gently picked up the scabbard. 'I've needed a backup weapon anyways.' he thought as he took a moment to belt it around his waist. 'Besides, something like this needs a better home than sitting as some dusty museum piece.'

As he turned back toward the door, he began to hear the sound of cheers echoing through the halls. "Well, then," he said to Guts. "Looks like we won the day."

. . .

A few hours later, back at the camp, Daniel and Guts stood in line, waiting to be paid their dues by the Tudor army that they had helped today.

As they came to a stop in front of the table, the man sitting behind it looked up at Daniel, then down at Guts. "I'm sorry, but dressing your son up as a soldier isn't going to earn you any more money." the man said in a deadpan voice.

Guts said nothing for a moment, simply drawing his sword, still somewhat stained with blood, and resting the tip on the ground in front of him. "Then how did I get this much blood on it?" he asked rather brusquely.

Daniel put a hand on Guts' shoulder as the paymaster looked at the boy uneasily. "Commander Gambino's decided to give the boy some battlefield experience to augment his training under me. He expected this to be a good start."

The paymaster nodded slowly. "That seems… desperate."

Regardless, he counted out pay for the both of them, and they went on their way towards their tent. As they did, Guts looked down at the pouch of coins that he'd been given, somewhat small all things considered, then looked back up at Daniel. "What should I do with all this?" he asked.

Daniel smiled slightly. "Well, it's yours. Right now, I'd suggest that you keep it saved. Then, we could actually get you some decent armor." he punched Guts' shoulder slightly. That he'd gotten out of the battle as unscathed as he had was something of a miracle. "Though, maybe we could convince Artur to forge us some and save some of the cost."

Guts nodded as they went on their way, the topic soon changing to what they would try and get for dinner tonight.

. . .

As the duo passed on, Gambino watched them both with a hard gaze. He felt a now familiar resentment stir in his chest for the both of them as they went towards the cookfires to get something to eat. Each held his ire for entirely different reasons.

For Guts, it was simple. The little bastard had gotten Shisu killed. If he'd just not squirmed, she could still have been alive, his, and this whole bullshit of leading a mercenary band would at least be a little more bearable.

Which led him to Daniel. For as seemingly humble as the man was, he was good at what he did. That being keeping the men in his care alive. It had been financially expedient to keep him around, but now he was starting to hear whispers that perhaps Daniel was better at his job than Gambino was.

He'd have to do something soon to remind the men, and Daniel, who exactly they answered to.

"Gambino." he heard a deep voice call out to him.

He turned to face the broad, dark-skinned man who approached him, looking back into the eye that wasn't put out. "Donovan. What can I do for you?"

"I have a question. Can we talk in private?"

As they went aside and Donovan made his proposition, Gambino thought he saw a way to get at both of his problems at once. "Okay," he said after a moment. "I'll make sure he's out of the way for you. But it's going to cost you."

. . .

As the shadows grew long and the night started to come on, the men beginning to settle in for their much-needed rest, Daniel couldn't quite shake a growing sense of unease.

The timing was right. He had to be on his guard in case Donovan tried something. And with all that he'd changed about Guts, he'd barely gotten within 10 feet of Donovan for longer than he'd had to. The man had escaped a jail sentence by applying for the most dangerous mercenary band he could find, it was said aloud. It was whispered that his sentence, and the crimes that went with it, were actually far worse than Donovan had claimed.

Daniel made sure that at least one weapon was close at hand for Guts to reach as they began to bed down for the night. And the necklace that he wore, a copy of the one he'd made for Guts, felt heavy on his sternum.

As he began to slip under the blankets that he had, he heard the tent flap rustle open, shoving down the fear that threatened to bolt to his brain as he looked at one of the other captains, Horace.

"Gambino wants you over at his tent for some planning," Horace said. "Says our employers have a caravan and the remains of the castle garrison for us that we can ambush to get some more coin."

Daniel blinked as he got up, pulling on some clothes. "Well, this is new. Why's he asking for me now?"

Horace shrugged. "I don't know. He just wants you to be there tonight. Maybe he wants to make you an actual captain at this point."

Daniel read the man like an open book, peering past his eyes to see into the depths of his soul. 'He's being truthful if nothing else.' he silently groused as he finished getting dressed. "Alright," he said aloud. "I'll be there in a moment."

Horace moved off, and Daniel looked back at Guts, who looked back up at him as he knelt. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Keep an eye out for me before you go to sleep, okay?"

Guts looked somewhat confused but nodded regardless. "Okay. See you later."

Daniel nodded slightly, smiling. "I'll be seeing you."

With that, Daniel went out, quite cognizant of the knife on his belt. It still needed that final familiar claw hook put into it, and for the sheath to be adjusted, but it would work for whatever came suddenly.

. . .

Guts waited, sword in hand, as he watched the flap of the tent. Even if he wanted to go to sleep without Daniel, he wasn't fully sure that he could right now. The sword, at least, was a decent enough substitute, as he reached over and grabbed it, holding it close to him.

He shivered slightly, partly from the night's chill that his blankets did little to combat, and partly from the anxiety of waiting for Daniel to come back. Planning sessions, he knew, could last a long time.

A shadow fell over the tent door, and Guts perked up. "Daniel?" he asked quietly.

But the figure that passed through the door couldn't have been Daniel if he'd tried.

"Donovan?" Guts said in confusion. "What…"

Then he saw the gleam in the man's eye. A hungry, uncaring shine that terrified him in a way that battle never could, with a grin to go with it splitting his lips to reveal teeth that could have been fangs.

He stepped forward wordlessly, reaching out to grab at him. Guts did his best to back up, trying to unsheathe the sword that he'd clutched to his chest. Donovan snatched the blade out of his hands with a moment's struggle, tossing it behind him as he pinned the boy in a flash.

"Wha-" was the last thing he managed to get out before a rolled-up cloth went between his teeth, stifling all speech.

. . .

Daniel walked toward the table, the lantern on top of it illuminating Gambino's face, along with Horace, Rickard, Gerard, and Wendell's, as they looked over a map that was spread out over most of the surface.

Gambino looked up as Daniel approached. "Oh, good. You made it," he said, smiling slightly.

Daniel arched his brow. "I've got to say, I'm somewhat surprised you called me. How can I help?" he looked around at the other men's faces. "And where's Donovan?"

In the slight moment that Gambino hesitated, Daniel learned everything he needed to know. 'Damn it. God damn you!'

"He's getting some rest," Gambino said. "And the reason you're here is that, when all is said and done, you have a knack for keeping people alive. We figured if you helped out, we could minimize the casualties."

Daniel found himself in a silent war within his mind as he stepped forward and Gambino began to lay out the plan. His heart screamed at him to go back and save Guts now, spare him from the horror that Donovan was likely making him suffer through. But Gambino had done this for a reason. And he remembered what came next.

Donovan would get his dues, he mused as he laid out some basic ideas, the others building upon them. In that much, he was sure. And if he stayed here, logic reasoned, then perhaps he could keep a few more men alive, keep Gambino from hiring another Donovan…

"Da… Dan…"

"Daniel…"

Daniel's head jerked up, his eyes going wide. "I have to go," he said, almost mumbled, as he turned, a flickering coal of rage stoking behind his sternum as he walked back towards his tent, struggling not to run as he put a hand on his dagger's hilt.

"Daniel!" he heard from a voice that didn't pierce the air, but still tumbled into his mind, thrumming in the necklace he wore. "Daniel!"

. . .

"C'mon, kid," Donovan chuckled, "I'm not here to eat ya. Just relax, and I'll be done before you know it."

"Besides," he continued, "this is just a natural part of being in an army. Sometimes women get boring, y'know?"

Before the man could go on, Guts lashed out, an elbow catching Donovan's jaw as he slipped out of the surprised man's grip, tearing off the gag and kicking at the man's testicles, earning a wheeze from the man as he turned and scrambled for his sword, sat up against one of the tent poles.

But he only got so far before Donovan's leg slammed into his torso, lifting Guts off the ground and sending him flying into the chest he and Daniel shared. As he tried to get his breath back, he found a hand around his throat, lifting him into the air. "Damn, kid," Donovan said, panting slightly. "You fight like a wildcat."

"Da… Dan…" Guts wheezed as best he could.

"What was that, kid?" Donovan said, relaxing his grip on Guts' neck only a little.

"Daniel…" Guts tried to cry out before Donovan slammed him into the ground, once again driving the breath out of his lungs.

"Your little daddy isn't going to be coming back for you," Donovan said with an almost triumphant grin. "And I paid good money to make that happen. 6 silver coins."

Guts' eyes went wide as the gag went back in his mouth, Donovan chuckling all the way. "Yer ass got sold out, kid."

'Daniel!' he cried out silently as it began, the pain and the noise and the fear sinking into his very being. 'Daniel!'

He didn't know how long it went on for, these sensations that violated him to his core, the emotions of helpless anger and rioting shame that threatened to burn him to ashes, but then he heard the tent flap shoved aside behind him.

"What the fuck are you doing?"

The voice was cold, but the rage it held was almost greater than if Daniel had shouted it across the battlefield.

He felt Donovan letting up, letting go. "The hell?"

"You bastard!"

Guts found the strength to look over and see Daniel pick up the sword, his new sword, that lay at his feet, drawing the blade fully from the scabbard and pointing it at Donovan's throat.

"Get out. Get out if you want to live!"

"But-"

Daniel responded with a thrust, almost too quick to see in the dark, that had Donovan stumble back with an audible wince. "I don't give a damn what excuse you have. If you don't get out now, I'll castrate you like the beast you seem to be. Now, get out!"

"Damn you!" Donovan shouted, but even still, he pulled on his pants, taking the rest of his clothes and beginning to go past Daniel.

Before he could exit, Daniel barred the door with his sword, and Guts could swear that he saw the faint outline of his glowing brand. "And one last thing. If I even catch you so much as looking at Guts ever again, I'll have your head on a pike. Am I clear?"

It was silent before Donovan presumably nodded, and Daniel lowered his sword to let the man out.

After a moment, Daniel dropped the sword and approached Guts. It… everything hurt. Hurt in ways that he never even knew could hurt. And as Daniel reached out, he shied away. Couldn't help but see Donovan again in the motion.

Daniel paused, and Guts could see the shame on the man's face as easily as he could feel it within himself. "Guts… I'm… God, I'm sorry."

Then, slowly, Daniel wrapped Guts in a tight embrace, Guts blinking as he felt a prickling wetness roll down a bare shoulder. Tears, he realized.

Then, for the first time he could remember, the dam broke, and tears began to fall silently down his face as well. Or had he just now recognized them?

. . .

2 Days Later

Guts rode on a horse, a rather new experience still even with Daniel showing him the ropes on his horse, Shadowdanse, and stayed as quiet as he possibly could, still hearing the slight clattering of what little armor wasn't wrapped in cloth.

It was dark now, and the band waited along the roadside for the caravan of supplies and fleeing men that Daniel said was coming this way. As they waited, Guts looked over at Daniel, wreathed in shadow, and thought to the day after… that.

Daniel had stalked out of the tent after getting ready. "I'm going to go talk to Gambino for a moment before we go train. I'll be back."

He'd followed regardless, staying out of Daniel's sight as he watched the man enter the tent. He heard what happened next even before he reached the tent's wall.

"You need to get Donovan a tighter leash, Commander," Daniel said the last word with no small amount of venom. "Unless you've somehow given him license to violate whoever he pleases."

"What're you talking about?"

"Don't bullshit me, Gambino. I'm not a child. Last night, Donovan wasn't getting any rest. He was raping Guts. And I won't tolerate it. If you don't promise to keep him under control, there's a better-than-good chance I'll kill him myself."

It had been silent for a few moments afterward. "Alright." Gambino had finally said. "I'll make sure I talk to Donovan and have him get what's coming to him."

He was sure that was a lie, Guts thought as he looked over at the man who seemed mostly unscathed, save for the stitches that he'd gotten from the cut across his cheek that Daniel had given him. He knew Gambino liked his physical punishments when it came to stepping too far out of line.

But he also noticed that Donovan was also looking straight ahead at the head of the column of men and wagons that began to go past them. Daniel had put the fear of god into him, Guts thought with a momentary smirk. Not that it fully made up for what he'd done.

As he waited for the signal, continuing to watch Donovan's back for the moment, he thought back to earlier in the day, after Gambino had briefed them on the ambush they would be carrying out.

He remembered sitting with Daniel, admiring the claw-like blade he'd made the dagger he'd liberated from the castle into, before he went silent for a long moment. "I want to kill him." he'd said quietly.

He'd seen Daniel blink, then nod slowly. "I understand. You're angry at him. You want vengeance. Well, justice in this case, but same thing."

Guts didn't fully understand all of those words, but he realized the meaning behind them. "I want payback."

"Of course." Daniel paused then. "But you have to be careful."

"Of course. It's going to be hard killing him."

"That's not what I meant. Vengeance is like holding a smoldering coal inside your body. It focuses you. Gives you the drive to seek out those that wronged you. But it burns through you as well. It can leave you worse than dead. Empty. Wandering without a purpose afterward."

Guts had pondered on the words for a moment before Daniel continued. "So once you're done… let go."

Then, his focus snapped back to the present as he heard the signal. Three smacks of a branch against a tree from both sides of the wooded path. With that, the forest exploded into noise and motion. The horses explode out of the trees, squeezing into the soldiers that reacted with shock and terror. Guts cut his way through more than a few of them before they began to rout and scatter into the woods, trying desperately to get away from the slaughter.

One man followed his victims doggedly, however, separating himself from the others in short order as Donovan pursued some more helpless soldiers. Donovan, for being a captain in Gambino's band, was a consummate glory seeker. All according to plan.

Guts disengaged as best he could, sure that Daniel was watching his back, and readied his crossbow, watching for the man to get just enough out of sight. After what felt like agonizing moments, he felt alone enough to raise his crossbow and take the shot.

The bolt slammed into the gap between the man's shoulder and chest armor, and Guts watched Donovan falter, look down at the bolt, then look back at him as he calmly reloaded.

"Guts," he said the name as much in shock as he did in growing rage as he urged his horse toward the boy. "You little ba-"

The next shot Guts took went straight into Donovan's open mouth, killing the words in his mouth as he slipped off his horse, the beast running into the night and leaving the man panting, gurgling really, as Guts dismounted and walked over to him, drawing his sword.

He felt a surge of triumph as he saw fear flickering in the man's eyes, a fraction of the fear that he'd felt that night as he hung the tip of his sword over Donovan's mouth. "Say it."

Donovan gurgled in confusion. "Say it!" Guts repeated. "Who did you pay to be able to rape me?"

Donovan coughed up more blood, and Guts could swear the man was chuckling. "Ga… Gambin… o…"

Guts' eyes hardened as he plunged his sword into Donovan's mouth, watching the man's eye twitch wide before losing focus and slacking somewhat shut.

He removed the blade from Donovan's corpse and stumbled backward until he leaned against a tree, breathing heavily. 'Gambino…'

The man who'd allowed him to live. The man who had, in some small ways, taken care of him as he proved his worth. How could he have done it?

He wasn't sure he would ever get those questions answered as he turned back towards his horse, and found Daniel next to it astride Shadowdanse.

"It's done, then," Daniel said quietly as Guts mounted his steed, the boy nodding silently.

"Alright. Come on. The battle's all but over. Let's get back to the others."

As they rode, Guts couldn't help but wonder as he looked over at Daniel. "What now? He said Gambino sold me out."

Daniel sighed quietly. "Gambino's time will come. But not yet. You've done the easy part of getting your vengeance. Now comes the difficult part."

"What?"

"Letting the anger go. It's served its purpose. Letting him lord over your mind in death as he tried to conquer your body in life is no victory. Forget him."

As they rode, Guts pondered on the words. He was right. That did sound hard. But he would at least try to forget the man. Even if he would never forgive him.