CHAPTER SIX: THE KNIGHT ERRANT
"No, no, NO! You stupid, stupid bird! Don't do that! Hey! Listen to me, dammit!"
Setzer kicked his heels deeply into his chocobo's flanks, but except for a peeved and recalcitrant "Wark!", Chocy paid no heed. The bird lowered his head back down into a clump of bushes and started rooting around with gusto; he had found a clump of tasty greens growing beneath the shrubbery, and finding and eating them was of the most catastrophic importance.
Chocy was a well-meaning bird, but he had an uncanny habit of simply stopping right in mid-trot and start grubbing for snacks. This hadn't bothered Setzer initially, but, after a week, the boy was really getting annoyed with the bird's Epicurean zeal. Unfortunately, Chocy proved to be adamant on his foraging binges, sometimes turning downright hostile if Setzer tried to impose his will with anything more than a jab in the ribs. Just as you didn't stand between a mother bear and her cub, you didn't stand between Chocy and his greens--not unless you wanted your eyes pecked out. All Setzer could do was wait it out and curse. And he did.
"Someday, you dumb bird, I'm going to pluck you bald and use your worse than useless feathers to stuff a mattress! Do you hear me? A mattress! And then I'm going to sell you to a slaughterhouse, and you'll be chopped up and made into sausage! You and your damn greens. My entire life is at stake, and all you can think about are greens. You're the bane of my life!"
He spent several more minutes in this strain, but he presently quieted down; his throat began to feel unpleasantly scratchy and slick. Setzer heaved a sigh and gloomily brooded.
For the past week he had been riding north over the plains, and the scenery hadn't changed. All around him was vast verdant grass undulating in the high breezes, dotted here and there with clumps of stringy, dirty yellow weeds under the endless expanse of a deep blue sky. Everything was static and stationary, and Setzer felt sometimes as if he would go insane with the tedium of it all.
Setzer had a bit of a solitary streak in him, but he needed people and friends with him if he wanted to feel happy and truly at ease. The first few days of his junket weren't terribly trying for him, but the situation was now rapidly deteriorating. His present state had become such that he had even started talking to Chocy on a regular basis.
Chocy had turned out to be pretty satisfactory company. The chocobo might have been stubborn, but he was very intelligent for his species, and sometimes seemed to understand what Setzer was saying to him, usually responding to his master's tone of voice with squawks, warks, and coos as necessitated. But at the present, Chocy was simply irritating.
A particularly strong gust bowled over the tall grasses, whipping Setzer's hair every which way and prickling at the skin on his face. Three days into his exile, the boy had removed the bandages off his face permanently; the scars were past the danger of infection, and he hated wearing the scratchy, stifling gauze so much that he couldn't stand them any longer. With the exception of a few dizzy spells, his physical health had not been of much grief to him, and he was a little comforted by his speedy recovery.
As the winds breathed around the rider and steed, Chocy abruptly jerked up his yellow head from the bushes, craning his long neck up and standing perfectly stationary, the muscles underneath his feathers tensed. Most birds do not have very acute senses of smell, but chocobos are blessed with relatively developed olfactory nerves in their nostrils, which are proportionately larger than most birds'. Chocobos are especially adept at smelling out members of their own species, and Chocy was no exception.
"WAAARK!"
In a space of only about five seconds, Setzer found himself going from zero to what felt like a hundred. For one dreadful moment, the jolt nearly looked to send him flying out of the saddle. He clutched at the reins for dear life and yelled out a wordless exclamation, deciding through his shock and terror that Chocy's untimely demise would soon be at hand.
Chocy sprinted forth at top speed for a few minutes, and then smoothly decelerated into an easy trot. Setzer wiped his wind-stung eyes and looked about. I swear to Palidor, if that idiot got us off the trail--
In front of him, tethered to a stake in the ground, was another chocobo, a darker, richer color than Chocy and much more stout and bulky. It hoisted a great leather saddle on its sturdy back along with a crupper and peytral, both considerably rusty.
Chocy warbled softly and ambled over to the hulking bird, his neck stretched out curiously and the feathers on his tail perfectly perpendicular and fanned. The other choc responded in kind, and soon the two were nudging each one another amiably.
Setzer, dismounting and making sure to do it in such a way as to give Chocy a bit of discomfort, wanted to throw the biggest temper tantrum the world had ever seen. His chocobo had probably deviated hopelessly off the trail just so he could make friends, and the youth was not at all pleased.
A dull patch of silver-gray flashed in the sun right underneath Setzer's nose. It was at that moment Setzer discovered a metal-clad figure reclining on a ratty roll on the ground, only a foot away from the feet of the stranger choc.
The man was garbed from head to foot in tarnished, unadorned plate body armor. The different pieces were pounded thin and slender, designed for mobility and lightness; two wicked spikes jutted out of the boxy shoulder plates; the helmet had no plumes and the visor, fitted with four slits for breathing, was snapped shut. The chest, emblazoned with a familiar-looking but currently unidentifiable crest, was moving up and down slowly in perfect, even rhythm, and faint snores drifted up from the visor slits.
Setzer wracked his brain for a few seconds, trying to determine what exactly the sleeping form below him was, when it hit him: a Samurai Knight of Doma. The armor style was too specialized and peculiar for any normal knight, and he remembered the kingdom's coat of arms. He had heard of these Samurai and read about them in books, but this was his first real-life encounter with one.
The knight slumbered so peacefully below, Setzer felt that it was a shame to wake the man. However, the boy decided to do exactly that. He was so uncertain of himself, he didn't even know whether he was actually lost or not, and Setzer needed assurance; not only that, but he desired to talk to a human being instead of a mutinous chocobo.
"Sir?" Setzer ventured, reaching down and taking up a twig and banging it lightly on the knight's helmet, "um...sir?"
"HAI!!" the Samurai's muffled voice bellowed; the armored man jumped up to his feet with surprising speed, grasping his katana pommel. "Darkness and devils! Have at thee, dastards!" The knight whipped his head around, slowly lowering his weapon. "Ah, ye craven cowards, fleest thou so fast? 'Tis no matter to me--I shall meet out my speedy punishment that thou will think a dervish was on thee. Cyrus, ye will be avenged at last!"
A great clatter of clanks and creaks groaned as the man feel to his knees, propping himself against his katana. "Ah, Cyrus, Cyrus, my dearly deceased friend! Thy bones are rotten, but I still remember thee; I will do anything to put thy soul to rest. Ye'll haunt me day and night till this end. Oh, Cyrus!" he wailed, pressing the sword to his breastplate.
Setzer had watched these proceedings incredulously; when the soliloquy was ended, the boy burst out laughing. He couldn't resist--the man's speech was so convoluted and ridiculous, it was exactly like watching a character from a bad opera.
"Eh?" shouted the knight, leaping up again, and he seized Setzer by the hair. "Who art thou? In the name of Doma, stand and unfold thyself!"
"P-please, Sir," Setzer stammered, nearly fainting with shock, "I'm just a boy. I don't mean you any harm." He felt himself released; the boy stepped back, rubbing his sore head, while the Samurai sheathed his katana.
"A thousand pardons, lad--ye art a lad, what? My eyes are not of the best." The knight, a bit of the formality of his speech vanished, lifted up his visor, unveiling squinting eyes lined with crow's feet. He inclined his head firmly. "Yes, a lad ye be."
"It's all right, sir. I didn't mean to wake you up, but I'm lost from the path to Kohlingen, and I was wondering if you could give me directions."
"Gods grant mercy on your shiny pate, I've no aim as to where I am, myself. I am as poor a vagrant as ye." His voice sounded quite abashed.
"I'm sorry. What's your name? How did you come here in the first place? Doma's a far way off, " Setzer asked.
Of all the things to say, that was probably the worst. The Doma knight's eyes grew hazed and cloudy as they had been when he had been rambling, and a great sigh escaped from the helmet.
"I am Sir Bruce Benedick, retainer to the liege of Doma. Once I was the captain of the King's guard, the most regarded and homaged man of all the Samurai lands. Never could I tread without the maids clamoring in their joy nor the villains quaking in their pasty footfalls. Many favors and benisons did the King grant upon me. But I was too hasty in my haps and joys! Five years to this, my beloved and departed comrade and friend, Cyrus Ommersume, was slain in the most vilest treachery. He had been assigned to the post of guarding the carriage of a train shipment on one of our kingdom's railways, and a rascally band of whoreson fiends did siege and plunder the train. My partner, my comrade, was slain by them, and I have vowed to revenge myself and his honor. I have been tramping all over plain, mountain, and swamp, questing for the rogues. That is what chivalrous custom dictates, is it not? Am I not obligated to avenge my friend?" Bruce peered at Setzer hopefully.
The boy merely shrugged his shoulders. "I really wouldn't know. People don't think about those kinds of things in my hometown."
Sir Benedick nodded his disappointed understanding and his head sagged; but then he snapped up without warning, and he gave Setzer a hard look.
"Gods burn me black, boy, how came ye to wandering all by thy lonesome self? Playing truant, what?" he demanded, reaching forth, and pulled hard on Setzer's ear.
Setzer knew his scripted response by heart, but he did not use it. He wanted to have fun with this one.
"Sir, I have no parents. My mother and father were the richest, most noble family in all Jidoor. My mother was a beautiful lady, my father a splendid businessman, who was also a great warrior. Why, he had such a genteel spirit, I wouldn't put it past him if he had some Doman ancestry in him."
Benedick released the boy's ear and stepped back, his visor clapping shut in the process. He opened it up with a creak. "Well? Say on, I say!"
"Just shortly after I was born," Setzer continued, "a terrible thing happened. One night I was asleep in my crib, and my mother, still weak from the birth, was rocking me, and my father watched the scene with pride--"
"Hai, a right good father!"
"Yes. Anyway, it was such a peaceful scene, but alas! it didn't last. My father, great gentleman though he was, had made several enemies over the years, one of them a powerful noble, the evil and corrupt Ruadh of the Black. This Ruadh decided at the tranquil moment to exact revenge for some petty slight, and sent his hired mercenaries under the shroud of darkness to our house. They broke in, and caught my parents, trapped and unarmed. My father made a brave stand, breaking off one of the legs of a chair and using it as a cudgel. He killed three men, but they soon overwhelmed him and ran him through. My mother, overcome with despair and grief, snatched one of the blackguard's daggers and stabbed herself through the heart. But they weren't content to leave it at that. Their leader drew his weapon and descended upon me, carving up my face--these scars which you see, sir. 'Let anyone try to claim he's a noble's son now!' he cried, and the man took me out and abandoned me in an alley.
"Thank the gods, I was saved by a kindly middle-aged merchant and his wife, and they brought me up in their home. It was only recently that they told me of my true heritage. They also told me that hanging around Jidoor was no life for one such as I, and that I must go out and seek my fortune. And here I am."
In this jaded generation, people today would think 'Bah! This is the stupidest thing I've ever heard. I'd never fall for it.' If you actually met Setzer in the flesh, however, a different opinion would be formed. Setzer was a wonderful rhetorician. His voice never betrayed anything but sincerity, wrapping around you like a noose and pulling you deep and close into his words, and his face was smooth yet emotional, the eyes radiating and open. And, of course, consider his audience.
"Ye poor lost lamb!" Sir Benedick cried, and his eyes brimmed with tears; the visor slammed shut again. A muted curse came from the slits, then the voice spoke up: "I am sorry to hear such a tale from one so young. A young man's life should be filled with happiness and warm sunshine. Forgive me for calling forth such unsavory memories from the dregs of thy mind. To think I had a righteous mind to thrash ye for playing hooky! "
"Don't feel so bad about it, sir. You didn't know," Setzer said demurely. It was then that he noticed that the Samurai's armor hung a bit loosely off his body; he remembered that the skin around Sir Bruce's eyes had seemed a little tight.
"You look a little sick, Sir Benedick. Are you okay?"
"Ah," Sir Bruce scratched at his helmet, "it is no disease, good lad. Well--curse it all--my mount, the slug, is not well-suited for celerity. The poor brute cannot run at top speed for any long amount of time without near keeling over; as for my own particular, I am no huntsman."
"When was the last time you ate?"
"'Tis not that bad. I am more often than not able to eat at least one meal a day, and some of the wild and feral fruits on these expansive plains are quite tasty."
"When was the last time you had any real food? Have you had any meat at all since you got here?"
"I bagged a Red Wolf not four days ago."
Setzer's throat contracted in disgust, and he managed to spit out, "Red Wolf! Gods, man, you might as well eat pond scum. That's just plain nasty. I've got the dry heaves! Give me your helmet. I can't be too careful."
"Ye come up with the most unsavory tricks," Sir Bruce sniffed, folding his arms across the broad expanse of his plated chest. Setzer grinned and went over to Chocy, who was still engaged in the all-consuming business of meeting the other bird's acquaintance; he extracted a skillet and the ingredients to make cornbread from the saddlebags.
"If you'll start up a fire, I'll make you something. It's not much, but it's a million times better than the offal you've been eating."
Sir Benedick got down on his knees next to the site of the previous night's campfire, and after some wheezing, a little deadwood, and a lot of smoke, he had a blaze flickering.
Over the fire with one hand Setzer held his skillet while the free one threw in corn meal, some water, and a little salt, mixing them up with a spoon when all had been put in. The hearty, crispy smell of frying corn wafted up into the air, and Sir Benedick sat down on the other side of the fire. He had removed his helmet, revealing a surprisingly older man, somewhere in his sixties, Setzer guessed. His sparse hair was white, and he had a splendidly bushy salt and pepper mustache below a long nose. Sir Bruce inhaled appreciatively, and a heavy snorting sound rattled the whiskers .
"Hmm!" the knight snuffed, "that aroma is positively tantalizing, aye?"
"If it suits you. I find it rather plain, myself. Then again, I've been eating it for the past week," Setzer responded briskly. He patted the meal into something that resembled a square using his spoon and dumped the bread onto one of his travel tins. He passed it over to Sir Bruce, who snatched up the whole thing, crammed it into his mouth, tangling crumbs into his mustache, and wolfed it down in two bites. He gave a belch of satisfaction.
"'Twas the most delicious thing I have ever eaten." Sir Benedick sighed and wiped the back of his hand along his mouth, the crumbs in his whiskers scattering down. "Many thanks to ye, most admirable and merciful lad!"
A pang of pity coursed through the boy, and he felt very sorry for the man. Just then, he got an idea which would, he thought, satisfy both parties. He glanced obliquely at the Samurai.
"Sir Benedick, would you kindly listen to what I have to say to you?"
"A very poor payment for such hospitality, dear boy--what would you speak?"
"I've been thinking about our situation. You're lost, and I'm not a warrior. I haven't met any monsters or thieves yet, but I don't think I would win if I got into a tussle with one of them. You're a highly trained Samurai, I assume, and know how to deal with trouble, yet you can't even feed yourself properly. We're in the same boat, it seems, and the two of us together would last longer than if we went out separate ways. This is what I propose: If I look after you, see that you're well taken care of, would you work for me? On the road it'd be mainly a protection thing, but when we get back to civilization, I'm sure I could still need your services."
"What is this I am hearing?!" Sir Benedick roared, his mustache bristling, and rose to his full height. "Of all the audacity! Can ye see how this becomes the house? I, Sir Bruce Benedick, once the brooch of all Doma's military, reduced to the part of a sniveling mercenary and man-servant to a milksop! Do ye not respect my years, do ye not respect my place? That I should lay all before ye just for the sake of food and roof!"
"There are worse things, sir."
"What about my friend? Would you he never be avenged? Heartless boy!"
"Oh, be quiet," Setzer scowled. "All you've been doing is tramping around for these past five years on this stupid quest for some stupid breach of your little Doman code and nearly starving yourself to death. You've gotten no closer to finding the killers, and you know you never will. And besides, what good would it do? Your friend is dead and gone, and all his troubles are over. He doesn't have any honor to be restored any longer. Be realistic. If we band together, I will pay you good wages, and see to your every comfort. It's not slavery. You could leave at any time. I could provide better for you than yourself. But I've got to be realistic, too. I can't take a charity case at the moment. "
"Never! Order the sea not to break, or the wind not to blow. Ye'll persuade me no easier," Sir Bruce turned his back to the youth.
"Very well." Setzer nonchalantly reached out for his cooking materials and made another batch of dough. One of Sir Benedick's mustaches twitched at the smell.
Mixing the meal over the fire, Setzer continued, "But you know, I really could be very helpful to you. I'm well-equipped. My first destination is Kohlingen. There I'm going to buy some more supplies. I hear that Kohlingen makes some of the best stews in the world, hearty and rich, so creamy that it feels like a trickle of paradise skimming down your throat, warming you up--"
A small sound came from the knight, and he clapped his hands over his ears. "Thy efforts will avail you naught!"
Setzer spoke up louder, discreetly fanning the steam of the cooking over across the flames: "And while I'm there, I'm also going to buy some juicy meat and potatoes, fresh pe-e-eachy fruits, crisp vegetables, and such de-lectable breads that they'd make this stuff taste like sawdust. I wouldn't starve, sir!
"And it'd be a shame that such a noble man as you would be stuck out here, slowly getting thinner and thinner till he eats his own dear chocobo out of desperation. A shame. But," he raised his eyebrows and sighed in defeat, retrieving a small bottle of syrup from a saddlebag, "if the wind sits in that corner, then I won't bother you."
He put the bread on the empty plate, drizzled it in syrup and set it before the two chocobos. "Here, boys, I've got a treat for you."
The big birds warily nosed the food and, since it was not greens, disregarded it. Setzer leaned against Chocy's flank and soaked in the sun, picking at his fingernails. Behind him, he heard the gnashing of teeth and grunts and a high-pitched groaning. The grass rustled slowly, and there was a soft sound of creaking joints, followed by a silence. Finally, chewing noises. Setzer grinned and turned around.
Sir Benedick was on his knees, scooping up the last sticky traces of the bread with his fingers. He scoured the plate clean as a whistle, slowly raised his upper body upright, bent one knee behind him, and reached for his katana. "Heartless, wicked boy."
He planted the blade deep in the ground and gripped its pommel with one hand; he traced a line down the center of his face with the index finger of the other.
"My lord, I, Sir Bruce Benedick of the Doma Samurai, do pledge fealty to thee. I pray you, accept my humble services and eternal allegiance. I shall answer to none but thee." His voice and eyes were mournful and tired. Setzer felt badly about it, and a little embarrassed.
"Come on," Setzer spoke up, trying to regain his cheer, and helped the older man to his feet. "Don't look so gloomy. Buck up! It's not the end of the world. You did the wise thing, Sir Benedick. And it's not forever, you know. "
"Pray, do not call me by my former title," Sir Bruce mumbled. "My knightly days are over. One cannot be a knight and a servant at the same time, Master Setzer."
"Now see here, Benedick," Setzer said sternly, "you stop that moping right now. Don't be so dramatic. If you don't want to be called 'Sir', that's your wish, but I don't see the point in denying it. Listen." He threw an arm around the armored shoulders. "We're not that far off from Kohlingen. You know what we're going to do when we get there? I'm going to buy us some nice bacon for frying in the mornings."
"Bacon?" Benedick raised his head.
"Yes, lots of bacon."
"Eggs?"
"All you can stuff into yourself, my man."
"Ye are a consummate procurer," came the arch reply.
Setzer only laughed, and the two collected up the scattered objects on the ground, preparing to mount and search for the proper trail.
*************
On the plains, evening in the late summer is the most glorious time of day: the air is crisp yet heavy enough that it wraps a body up in a temperate blanket. Stars and lightning bugs twinkle in the dusk and crickets chirp, instilling a feeling of harmony and clarity into anyone who is a witness.
Setzer left his tent flap unbuttoned in order to truly dip himself into the evening's serenity, and the sounds and sights lulled him into a deep napping. That strange falling sensation people experience just before they drop into actual slumber came over him, and his thoughts became distorted and surreal.
And then, a great, deep ruckus of rumbles sounded out, practically next to Setzer's ear. Setzer propped himself on one elbow, looking around in bewilderment.
The noise came just next to the side of his tent; Setzer scowled and bared his teeth in aggravation. "Curse him," he whispered to himself, "curse him."
Why old men seemed to be expert snorers, the boy could never understand. His grandfather, on the rare visits to the house when Setzer was still a child, had been able to rouse the house at the ungodly hours of the morning; Benny's great uncle had nearly been just as bad; Sir Benedick was the worst of the lot.
The snoring continued on steadily and showed no signs of letting up. The old knight's soft palate was more pliable than a piece of putty. Setzer cursed under his breath and shoved his head under his pillow, but the sounds reached his ears as if nothing was there at all. Setzer felt that he would go mad, and was sorry that he ever met Bruce in the first place. A great warrior indeed! Setzer didn't claim to be an authority on heroes and warriors, but he was certain that first-rate snoring was not part of the job description.
Dammit, he sounds just like a rutting Rhinotaur, he thought furiously, balling up the edges of his pallet in his hands, He's worthless! Worthless!
Setzer thought for a moment about going out and stuffing something, perhaps a pillow, into Benedick's mouth. Thinking about the many ways to shut the old man up lifted his spirits a little and was sufficient enough to restrain the boy from displaying the ultimate irreverence to his elders, so he lay quietly, happily daydreaming.
Under the honks and snorts, Setzer suddenly detected a new sound--a heavy shuffling, laced with soft grunts. It seemed to be coming from opposite Sir Benedick; Setzer cautiously rolled over and turned his face towards the sounds. He was fairly certain that it was an animal searching for food, but he lay tensed, and flickered his eyes over to the small dirk lying on top of his immaculately folded clothes.
The snuffling stopped, and then a noise uncannily similar to the snoring took its place. Without warning, the noises approached the tent flap. Setzer lifted himself up halfway and became very still.
In an instant, the most hideous thing Setzer ever laid eyes on thrust itself through the flap: a rough, polished horn on the end of a sniffing, scaly snout gleamed in the scanty light along with a row of jagged, dripping fangs. Two red, glassy eyes in a dark leathery face fixed on the boy.
Setzer screamed, jumped from his pallet, and, snatching up the dirk, tore a hole through the side of the tent. He charged through it, nearly tripping over Benedick, and knocked over the whole tent, leaving in his wake a monster-sized canvas blob which looked very confused.
The trail from Jidoor to Kohlingen coursed along several small rivers and brooks so that travelers could, if they made good time, find new water almost every day. Setzer and Benedick had set up camp only a few feet away from one of these rivers. On the banks grew gnarled, wind-scoured trees, and Setzer ran straightway to the tallest one, calling as he did so, "Benedick! Benedick! Help me!"
He scrambled up the tree, and, as young men in Jidoor usually did not sleep with much clothing on (Setzer was only in his skivvies), the bark scraped and tore his skin, but he did not feel anything. From behind him, he could hear a voice shouting, "What, ho! Arsonists, thieves, murderers, varlets, rogues, character assassins! Come forth and reveal thyselves, thou naughty wretches, and meet thy unmaking!"
By now Setzer had situated himself on a limb, and looked back at the camp. He saw Benedick, in a nightshirt and helmet, waving his sword; but the thing that drew his attention was that the broken tent was making its way towards his tree in spirited bounds, still making its snore-like grunts.
"Gods preserve me! Master Setzer! Thy tent is bewitched!" Benedick shouted, and his sword fell limply to his side.
"Benedick, you twit! Don't just stand there--I'm being attacked!" Setzer shouted back. The monster had somehow gotten out from underneath the canvas, and was now right underneath the youth. It was a Rhinotaur, a female because her hide was not as knobby as a male's and the horn wasn't very large, and she peered up at Setzer with a moonstruck expression. She began to circle the tree and rub her head against the bark; her snorting shifted into a low purr.
Benedick looked at the scene and began to laugh so hard that his knees buckled and his visor clamped shut. "Oh, young Master," he giggled, "there is a strange sort of bird in yonder tree--he hath no feathers save for the ones 'round his loins, yet the ladies adore him! A strange, wonderful bird!"
"Benedick! This is serious! Get over here this instant! What the hell is that thing doing?!"
"I expect, good Master, that the lady is attracted to ye. Perhaps, in thy sleep, ye made a noise that was most becoming to her ear. "
"You can't be serious! I--to hell with it! Just get over here and kill the dumb beast! That's an order!" Setzer shouted.
"Come, come," Benedick said, walking over at last. "I do not see why I should kill a lady simply because she loves ye. Love's not a crime, dear Master."
"She'll attack me!"
"It will be only a gentle attack. A few love-nibbles perhaps, but--"
"Just get rid of her!"
The Samurai clicked his tongue lightly and gave a deep bow. He went up to the Rhinotaur and firmly grasped the creature by its horn. The sinews and muscles in his arm flexed, and he jerked it away from the tree. He gave it a sharp thwack on the snout with the flat of his blade. "Be off with ye, ye hussy!"
Wrinkling up her smarting nose, the Rhinotaur lowed mournfully and cast the tree heartbroken looks as she ambled sadly off.
"What a rake my master is!" Bruce sighed in admiration, and he pivoted smartly on his heel. "I do feel sorry the lasses who burn for ye."
Setzer made the tricky way down the tree and dropped to the ground. His face was flushed a bright red, and he flung Benedick's ratty blanket around his shoulders with an angry motion. "Shut up. It's all your fault. Sew up that rip in the tent and set it back up. You think you could do that?"
"Yes, Master."
Setzer lay on Benedick's roll and faced away from the Samurai, rolling up in a tight ball. Even though he did his best not to hear anything, the sound of low laughter drifted into his ears.
"Great gods, what a lover!"
*************
Northward the two journeyed, across the immutable heart of the grassland, and they reached the village of Kohlingen in good enough time.
Setzer paid for lodgings at an inn and sent out Benedick to purchase new supply rations, promising a fine dinner on completion of the errand. Benedick returned with everything in record speed, and Setzer fulfilled his part of the bargain by treating the old man to a feast at one of Kohlingen's finest restaurants.
Now Setzer was faced with a dilemma. As he and his new servant had traveled the plains, the boy had realized that the plan to take the train across the mountains posed a delicate problem. He was certain that going by train would not be very good for Benedick's mental health, and did not trust Benedick to act with a great deal of decorum. It wasn't unlikely that the Samurai would start screaming about train-robbers and dead best friends and chase people down with his katana. Something needed to be done; Setzer did not want to make his position more precarious than it already was.
He thought and thought about the situation, and soon hit upon a solution. He remembered the abundant amount of bandages in his saddlebags--he had not thrown them away--and saw how he could use them.
Eager to be done with the servant trouble, Setzer did not stay long in Kohlingen. The very day after arriving, he had the chocs saddled and guided them at a easterly course.
It was a half-day's ride to reach the train station, which required that the two take their lunch on the road. Benedick stuffed himself and immediately fell into a deep slumber, replete and happy as a clam. The Samurai's master reclined back against a rock and bided his time.
An hour passed, and Setzer stood up on his stiff legs. He reached for the bandages, and then shook Benedick by the shoulder gently.
"Benedick, wake up. It's time for us to get moving."
The old man, quite groggy from his meal and nap, groaned and sat up; he looked around himself with unclear eyes and mumbled something.
"Listen, Benedick, I'm going to put these bandages around your head and hands, all right? I'll leave you enough space around your nose so you can breathe, so don't be scared of suffocating. Here, give me one of your hands--"
"Why?" Benedick drawled; he frowned, but obediently let Setzer take up his hands and swath them.
"Do you have squires in Doma, Benedick?" Setzer asked very patiently.
"Aye."
"Did you have one?"
"But of course!" Benedick waved his bandaged hand; he was too tired to do anything more elaborate.
"And did you ever let your squire pester you with questions? Did he ever once call your decisions up on the carpet? No? He did what he was told without a word, didn't he? Well." The boy folded his arms and cocked his head.
"Very good, Master."
"All right, now stay still and don't talk while I finish this up. Damn, you've got a big head. I hope I can cover it all," Setzer meticulously wound up his servant's head, his tongue sticking out of one of the corners of his mouth. With a snip of scissors and a sticking of a pin, he finished up.
"Just barely!" the boy said, looking at his handiwork. He had bound the man's face completely save for his nostrils. "That was close. But you look great. Perfect."
"Master Setzer," Benedick's muffled voice entreated from behind the gauze, "I cannot see a single thing! Pray tell, how the deuce am I going to be able to ride?"
"Don't worry about it. I'll guide your bird until we get to our destination."
"And where is that?"
"Benedick, you're a very nice man and a good servant and I am glad that I met you, but you ask too many questions. Why do you want to know? Let yourself be surprised for once. Come on, let's get ready. I'll help you get into the saddle."
It was quite a trick to get the blinded man mounted--on one occasion Benedick got into the saddle backwards and on another nearly bloodied Setzer's nose with a flailing heel--but they somehow managed to do it. Setzer gathered up their mealtime remains, saddled Chocy, and grasped Benedick's bird by the leather reins running along its cheek, leading the sightless all the long way to the train station.
Setzer felt the muscles in his arm go rigid and numb, then they began to scream at him for release; tears trickled their way out unbidden. Often he was tempted to stop or let go of Benedick's chocobo, but he knew that every second they traveled meant that they were that much closer to the train station, and Setzer did not want to tarry any longer. Closer, closer, and closer--he repeated the word in his brain, focusing all his energies upon it, and he clung on.
At long last he heard the faint whisper of a train whistle; in front of him, before the hazy purple backdrop of rocky, zigzagging mountains, stretched the clean white buildings of the station and the great stitching length of track which circled around and disappeared into the distance, seeming to go on forever; the shining sleek train perched proudly next to the boarding dock. Setzer grinned triumphantly and led his servant towards the buildings, comforted that his poor arm would soon be soaking in a basin of warm water.
They came very close when the train sounded out its shrill whistle again. Setzer felt his ears ringing like mad and dreaded the worst.
"Hark! That is the very sound of Hell itself! Oh, Master Setzer, to what abominable place have ye brought me?" Benedick whimpered. He started to shake in his saddle.
"What are you talking about, Benedick? You're hearing things."
"Nay, I say! Ye surely must have heard that dreadful racket, good Master; it nearly shook the earth to its bowels! Do ye seek to torment me?!"
"Dear sir, I assure you, I have not heard a single sound that has been remotely out of the ordinary. I think that you're not getting enough air to your brain--I suppose the bandages don't let you breathe normally. You're just a bit light-headed, that's all. I'll remove those things soon enough."
"Truly?"
"Truly."
Setzer helped Benedick dismount and the two came up to the ticket-booth window, where a cashier was waiting for them.
"Two tickets for the next train across the mountains, please," Setzer said in a voice that was to be heard by the cashier but not by his servant; the cashier looked at Benedick and tapped the side of his nose, his lip curling up to reveal dirty and broken teeth.
"Eh! Now that's the queerest sight I ever saw. What's your game, laddie?"
"Sir, I don't understand what you mean. I don't see what sort of 'game' I'd be playing. Don't you take my request seriously?"
"It's hard to when you've got a piece like that tagging along with ya." The cashier pointed at Benedick.
"I assure you, sir, it's nothing to worry about. It's--well, I can't put this very elegantly, but I'll try. Sir, my servant here is a most unfortunate victim of circumstance. He has been afflicted with a sort of disease which requires him to wear the bandages you see."
"Disease?"
"Oh, yes, sir, but don't let that put you off! It's eaten off his nose and half the skin on his face and fingers, but the doctor said for sure that it's not contagious--"
The cashier made a strange sound in his throat. "See here! I'm not going to let that thing on the train!"
"Why not? I told you, I have it on the best authority that he's of no danger. He won't make any trouble. See?" Setzer clasped one of Benedick's hands and gave it a pat. "Perfectly safe. Do be kind. His hometown's South Figaro, and he wants to live there in his final days before things get really ugly. You wouldn't want to rob him of that last request, would you?" He pulled out the required gold pieces and a little extra.
"All right, all right," the man hissed, eyeing the gold as if it was poison, "just get him away from here." He picked up the coins with an ill-concealed shudder, threw them into the strongbox, and shoved two tickets towards the boy.
"Much obliged, sir. You don't know how much my servant is indebted to you," Setzer said, bowing. He guided Benedick and their chocobos to the nearest porter, who stowed the bags and corralled the birds into a special car reserved for the animals. They climbed a few steps and had their tickets checked, and then sat down on one of the plush velvet seats, Benedick receiving the window side.
"Master Setzer, where in confuscation are we? I really must know, " the mummified man demanded, bouncing up and down tentatively on the springy cushions. Setzer sighed and sank luxuriously into the velvet.
"We're in a place where we can just sit back and relax. Stop being so nervous. Enjoy it! These seats are nice, aren't they?"
"'Tis almost sinful," Benedick observed. "Ye know, Master, if ye are playing me false--"
"Never!"
Such was the conviction and force of this declaration that Benedick fell silent at once and started to quietly amuse himself by running his hands over the velvet. He could feel the texture of the stuff, and the sensation of gauze over plush was a nice one.
Another whistle sounded, and the train began to pull away from the boarding dock. The floor clacked underneath Setzer's feet, and car began to jolt a little.
"Oh, gods, gods!" Benedick whimpered, and his chest began to heave desperately. "'Tis...Ye...Let me off! Let me off! Cyrus! Cyrus!"
Setzer looked at the man huddled up next to the window; annoyance and pity roiled in his chest, but pity eventually won out. He reached over and wrapped his arm around Benedick's shoulders and coached the Doman in taking somewhat even, long sips of breath. Benedick moaned the name of Cyrus again and again, his shoulders shuddering, and put his head between his legs. Setzer kept his hand on the man's broad back and sighed once more. He glanced out the window. The mountains seemed to be rushing up at them now, seeming so much closer though the train had not been going full speed for more than twenty minutes, their purple shifted to deep craggy brown. They were going steadily upwards, and he felt a giddy tingling in the pit of his stomach. The land began to roll out, bathed in the sparkling ruddiness of the sun which was very near the horizon now; Setzer looked upon it, found it beautiful, and the ride did not look to be as long as he first thought.
*************
In the span of a single night, the train wended its way over steep grades and through narrow chasms, crossing over to mountains to where the kingdom of Figaro held sway.
The remainder of the journey passed without incident. Setzer and Benedick traversed the whole length of the parched desert, the sand ingraining itself deep into their noses, their clothes, and underneath their eyelids; Setzer felt that there was no amount of water in the whole world that could ever wash him clean. Firmly packed dunes rose in soft hills from horizon to horizon, some of them were dull gold, some bright yellow, and sometimes the sand glittered a ruddy orange hue. Scorpions and basking lizards scuttled out from the chocobos' path, and they were the only animals that Setzer ever saw in the almost a week he spent in those desiccated borders. The two passed by Figaro Castle, its twisting, elaborate spires rippling as if they were submerged in water, when going through the very heart of the dryness, and Setzer idly wandered how anyone could live in such a withered place and not go mad.
They came to South Figaro, on the edge of wild forest land, and saw the towering leafy giants which were the source of the town's ship lumber; in the distance, Setzer could make out humped hills and the openings of mine shafts. In town, they saw tidy, neat rows of houses and the shops which sold all sorts of wondrous Eastern novelties: fine steel from Doma, rare gems from Narshe, and crazy gadgets straight from Figaro Castle itself--what their purpose was, Setzer could not say. He liked the town, though, and was sorry to leave it.
From South Figaro, Setzer and Benedick were able to charter a proper passenger ship rather than pull off as cargo one of the cramped, dirty trading boats. It was here that Setzer boarded a seafaring vessel for the very first time in his life.
Setzer found that he did not care much for the sea on this, his first voyage. On the first evening he strolled leisurely on the deck subsequent to the business of seeing that his luggage was safely stowed away, walked up to the railing, and curiously bent his head over the side of the deck.
The scent of salts and kelp hung in a heavy mist over the water's surface; he saw little crusty, scummy-looking specks drifting on the lapping waves, mixed with bits of aquatic plants, driftwood, and other objects. Beneath the thin veneer, straggly seaweed strands grew in clusters, almost like they were a crop of some bizarre type. Except for a few fish, the water was so murky and cluttered with weed that Setzer could see anything else. There was something sinister and unclean about the whole thing, he decided; the water stank in his nostrils, and simply looking at the slimy things lurking underneath made him shudder, and he felt an unpleasant tingling in his arms and legs. For a moment, he thought that he had somehow managed to get one of the tendrils of seaweed wrapped around his leg. He withdrew a few paces, pulled his father's coat a little closer around him, and thought about more pleasant things. He and the sea did not agree; he desperately wished to be back on land.
The boat sailed onwards. The bottle-grin haze of the tree-lined shores shimmered faintly in the distance, and then disappeared completely. Each day, looking over the flat expanse of cobalt indelible, reflecting back the gorgeous sky in mockery, Setzer often thought to himself that this leg of the trip was as bad as the desert, if not worse. Yet he could not tolerate being confined into his cabin at all hours, and he spent most of his hours lounging about on deck, his eyes closed as he soaked up sunshine and let the soft hiss of the spray hitting the boat's sides coax him into relaxation.
Benedick was usually nearby. The old man was wont to be found sitting precariously up against the railing of the boat, dangling an old warped pole that a sailor had lent him over the edge, baited with a stale crust of biscuit or some other bit of food nobody wanted. Setzer initially feared that Benedick would topple right over if the waves became rough, but the Doman straddled the posts between his knees in a vice-like grip and let his body ride along with the rhythms of the sea. Nothing short of a tidal wave could have knocked the man off.
Setzer once asked Benedick why he fished, because the boy thought that it was a horribly boring business, and that the reward of a slimy, flopping, gasping fish was poor payment for hours of doing nothing. In response, Bruce shrugged his shoulders, curled one side of his mustache thoughtfully, and said: "We Domans are taught this art from our boyhood that we may learn the virtue of forbearance, Master Setzer--'tis one of the qualities we most admire in a man. Not only forbearance it teaches, but how to focus our concentration, to calm our minds. I find when I cudgel my wits about only this one thing, then no other earthy cares or worries come to blight and sting me. 'Tis rest, only yet I never close these eyes. The thing I see before me swallows me, I swear to ye, and time means naught. And this place is so full of wonderments, the mind near cracks with the weight of it all! Marvelous! Never have I had such a stretcher for the old bean. "
"Ah." Setzer yawned and rolled over on his chair.
"Would ye care to join my company? 'Tis a lovely view."
"It's gross and nasty. I don't like it, and I sure as hell don't want to look at it close up. Nasty." A bitter taste tinged his tongue.
"Very well. Your loss,"
As the boat neared Nikeah, a sudden gale blew them eastward off the course into an a crescent-shaped inlet near Doma, but the ship was never in danger of capsizing. The only thing that came out of it was that Setzer was able to catch a glimpse of Doma castle from afar, and then it was not a very good view. It mostly looked like a blur of gray.
Benedick appeared beside the boy as he squinted at the building; the hands gripping the rails were shaking a bit. Setzer saw the old cheeks were wet. Not really knowing what to say, he ventured to speak, but Benedick stood rigid and never turned his head from the shore, even long after the sun had set.
The boat pulled away from the inlet and regained its route; it passed countless coral reefs, bays, and beaches that all seemed the same. It pulled into the port of Nikeah, and Setzer stayed there for three days. He passed through the town's thriving marketplace, even larger than the one in Jidoor, and it seemed like anything the world produced ended up for sale here. People shouted, hawked, bellowed insults, shoved, and haggled in a dull roar, the crowds so thick around the crates and booths that one could not get a good view of the merchandise until he was right up next to the wares, and then he was caught. There was also a cafe of great local repute, where prostitutes doubled as waitresses. It was actually a very elegant place, and the food was good, so Setzer decided to see it first-hand. Nothing scandalous came out of it, but Setzer had to admit, he received the most solicitous, eager to please service he ever had, even if Benedick nearly died of shame when one of their waitresses kissed him on top of the head.
But Nikeah was soon a speck, too, and Setzer never saw land till his ship anchored in Albrook. This town was the Empire's place of trade, but the selection of goods wasn't as good as Nikeah's, or even South Figaro's. It was a very bland town in Setzer's opinion, and he did not stay long. By now he was tired of being dragged from pillar to post, had seen enough of ports and harbors to last his lifetime, and wanted to end his vagrancy and establish himself. Also, Albrook, being so well-situated to the sea, was one of the main housing places for Imperial troops that were ordered to travel abroad. Setzer ran into soldiers at the inn and the restaurants, but they took no notice of him and talked to each other and to resident civilians whom they knew. He didn't feel very comfortable in spite of this.
The last leg of Ponzo's selected route, Setzer elected to take a ferry up a wide river that ran from Albrook to very near Vector. It was speedier than taking their chocobos, even though the suffering birds desperately warked for exercise. The youth felt a bit guilty about it, and resolved to take Chocy out for rides every day once in the Empire's capital.
Two days were required for the ferry to chugs its way upstream. Setzer found river travel a much more amiable mode of conveyance and spent his waking hours at the ferry's prow, pushing his hands against the rails as if he could make the boat move that much faster by his efforts.
On the second day, Setzer saw a dark blot up ahead. He asked one of the ferry's sailors if they were approaching Vector and received an affirmative answer. Setzer laughed and whooped and ran to find Benedick, who was at the stern. The old man was looking off into space with a sad look. Setzer saw the desolate expression and wanted to divert his melancholy.
"Hello, there," Setzer called, stepping forth, swinging his arms. "We're almost there."
"Most welcome news, good Master, and smiling to my heart."
"I'll just be glad to finally get on and land and stay there. It's been fun, but you get tired of it all after so long," Setzer said, positioning himself next to Benedick and folding his arms on the rails. He bent down his head and began to think of something engaging to say. The water below was a thick brown opaque; a faint scent of ammonia wafted up. From the very start the river had been of the muddy variety, but it had gradually turned darker and cloudier as they moved; it was only now that Setzer was cognizant of the change and the smell.
"Huh! That's odd. What's churning up the mud?"
"That's no mud, Master Setzer."
The youth jerked up his head and eyed his companion. "Do I dare ask what it really is?"
"I do suppose ye can sort it out for yourself," Benedick said curtly; his mustache bristled.
On the opposite bank, Setzer saw two people, a boy and a man fishing, both of them waded waist-high into the water. When the stern was level with the couple, Benedick, having seen that no-one but his master was in hearing distance, cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted, "Twits! Woodcocks! Woolly-wits! Asses!"
Setzer burst out laughing, and he laughed harder when he saw the expressions on the two fishermen. He finally regained his composure.
"What was that all about, Benedick?" he asked jovially. Benedick rested his chin on his folded arms sullenly and grumbled, "Because they truly are the most hoodwinked idiots I have yet seen, Master Setzer. How can ye expect to find any sort of fish in this cesspool? No sense of sense at all! I swear by my sword, the world gets steadily uglier every day. Even I can tell ye that much."
He fell silent and did not budge, his time-leathered face turned back in accordance with the stern. Setzer chuckled quietly and knocked the old man on the head playfully; he walked back to the front of the boat. He could see the capital much more clearly now. He saw the brown river threading its way through the willow-lined banks towards the black silhouette of the Imperial Palace, lights twinkling around its base like votive candles. They were very close.
A surge out excitement ran through him, and Setzer clasped his hands together and began to pray to Stray. He did not know where his luck seemed to come from, but he felt like some entity was watching over him--he could find no other explanation to how he could have survived being thrown through a plate-glass window, managed to leave Jidoor without detection, and obtain a servant in such a brief period of time. Stray had charmed him!
To end his prayer, Setzer took out his Stray charm and kissed it; he remembered his earlier vow, and doubled his resolve. Quid pro quo policy was only fair in his eyes.
Thus it was with a light heart and a bit of religious zeal that Setzer approached the iron gates of Vector steadily closer, and, for one brief moment, he felt that the whole city would be his. Then he thought of J.J hidden away in there, and of his family and old friends. He wondered where they all were, what they were all doing, and smiled affectionately to himself. The memories were not sad to him now, only pleasant and distant.
The boat pulled up to a small pier, and the passengers with their chocs and bags disembarked. Vector awaited.