A Thief on the Throne
As Frederick had promised, the Altean flag billowed alongside the Pheraen crimson above the towering walls of Satar. The flag promised allies within the city, allies Lucina so desperately needed now that Roy had escaped. The sight of the crossed keys on their field of indigo should comfort her. It did not.
Her thoughts were not with the low steps she climbed to reach the duke's residence, nor with Cordelia and Rath who followed her as her escort. Instead, the waters under Thria's bridge roared in Lucina's ears. There she had tossed the Binding Blade into the waves together with Ike. But now, Ike would stand against the sword alone. Against Roy alone.
Lucina dug her fingernails into her palm to chase away these thoughts. She had done all she could for Ike. Tiki's pendant would protect him, it had to. But against Roy…
No, Lucina would not follow the bloody path her imagination painted. The worn steps to the duke's residence, the listless clangs from nearby anvils, and the smell of copper grime sticking to every wall in sight; those impressions were real. Roy's glacier eyes as he drove the Binding Blade into Ike's chest were not.
Lucina counted the last ten steps and breathed, and finally the clatter of flagpoles replaced the roars of Thria's river.
Satar still recovered from the recent battle, evident in the bricks and shards littering the streets. A group of children kicked the metal head of a statue across the rust-laden mud. The duke's residence had survived with nothing but a handful of scorch marks on the outer wall. But the same could not be said about most of the duke's soldiers. Lucina had passed too many wounded men and women on her way here, they had huddled on the overcrowded porch of a healer a little further down the street with empty expressions. The stench of pus still upset her stomach. But she had marched on, half-deafened by the roar of Thria's river and half-blinded by the flimsy hope of finding an ally against Roy.
A couple of Pheraen guards lounged in the lee of the residence's gateway, but they straightened when they noticed Lucina. Or rather the crown on her head. The pair had walked patrols on Lycia's battlements a week ago, but like with so many other towns, the threat of rebellion in Satar had forced Lucina to deploy troops away from the capital. And all this to imprison the duke Marcus in his villa.
Said villa lacked the pomp of other residences across the Empire. Instead, the yard and the hunched building beyond the gateway followed a military design philosophy. Sand rotundas for training left little room for the few withered box trees that cowered from the cold or the lack of a gardener's care.
Cordelia scuffed behind Lucina, kicking dirt and snow mud with each step. By the time they reached the main building, Lucina could not bear the noise anymore.
"If you plan to continue this act in front of the duke, perhaps you should rather wait here," Lucina said. She needed more force than she liked to admit to keep her voice low.
"We had a deal," Cordelia said. "You said you would free Talys. You promised. But instead we are ambling around in the front garden of some small nobleman."
"Duke Marcus is no mere nobleman. He holds the highest rank in Pherae, second only to the royal family."
"Your point?" Cordelia squished the snow under her boots. "Anyone could have dealt with this guy. Rath could have gone alone. Why are we here and not on board the next ship to Talys? Like you promised."
"We would turn our back to the hunter with a saber to face a child with a stick," Rath said. "The heir to Eliwood is far more deadly than his knight on her flying horse."
"My forces are spread thin across Pherae already." Lucina climbed the single step to the front door. She should let the matter rest and concentrate on her meeting with Marcus. But she could not. "How am I supposed to assemble them against Talys when I know that Roy is out there, waiting for me to make a careless move?"
"Then why didn't you ride out with Ike?" Cordelia overstepped all the ranks separating them and stabbed Lucina with an outstretched forefinger. "All you did since you placed that golden thing on your head is sit around on your throne and let others do the hard work. Ike has been throwing himself into skirmishes in your name for months. And for what?"
"I never forced him."
"Tell that to yourself if that helps you sleep. But the one time where you should have ridden out yourself, where you had no excuse because Roy has always been your business, you didn't. No, instead you are sending Ike to the slaughter. That's so convenient, isn't it? To have a bunch of people move out at a flick of your wrist."
"You are shaming yourself with such foul words."
But Cordelia ignored Rath's comment and brought her face mere inches away from Lucina. "Soren did the smart thing, you know? He left before you could sacrifice him in your war against Roy and his shadows. I just wish Ike had done the same."
Lucina had abandoned all anger. Both her voice and her movements reeked with cold calm as she leaned forward. "Are you mad because I sent out someone to stop Roy? Or because it was Ike I sent?"
Cordelia's eyes went wide, and she stumbled half a step backwards.
Lucina regretted her words in an instance. She had gone too far. No number of political worries stitched to the crown she carried around excused her behavior. What had happened to the ease with which she had filled the hearts of Altean rebels with awe? Who was she to lash out at Cordelia for a worry they both shared?
All too aware on the eyes on her, Lucina took a deep breath and cast off the steel of royalty. One step brought her away from the threshold and at Cordelia's eyelevel. She met Lucina's gaze like a startled animal. Hurt. And in dire need of a friend rather than a queen.
Lucina embraced her. And for one moment she blocked out the eyes that watched her every move.
"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I failed to realize your dream. I'm still failing, and you have every reason to be mad with me. But I need you by my side now. The only way for me to continue is to hold the Empire together. And the only way for you and Ike and everyone else to return home is a united empire without Roy. Therefore, I must waste my time with lords like Marcus. Therefore, I cannot lead you to victory in Talys now. But I still need you by my side. Can I ask for that favor?"
Cordelia remained motionless in Lucina's embrace. After a long moment, she freed herself from Lucina's arms and stepped back in line with Rath.
"Okay," she said.
But the awe from the days of their rebellion did not return to her eyes.
Although the sight squeezed Lucina's chest, she called the steel of royalty back to her posture, straightened, and entered the residence.
Her imperial soldiers detained Marcus in his chambers on the second floor. A comfortable form of imprisonment compared to the frozen cells of Johtran. Although perhaps the interior design of the residence did not warrant the term comfortable. Swords, lances, and halberds from all corners of Archanea hung from the walls, a collection that shamed even Lycia's armory. Neither the handful of plain carpets running along the halls nor the equally plain plaster distracted from the glistering steel. The only break from the monotony came in the form of a tapestry with Marcus' crest at the head of the y-shaped foyer staircase.
The crest displayed a rearing horse and stag, stitched in gold threads onto a wood-colored background. Lucina remembered the symbol well enough from her time as a knight under Roy, but Rath stared at the tapestry as though a ghost had emerged out of the fabric to haunt him. His jaw ground.
Without a word, he ripped the tapestry from the wall. The horse and stag crumbled into a heap of gold and brown that sprawled across the stairway. Rath looked like he could imagine nothing more pleasurable than setting the fabric on fire, but Lucina's sharp yell roused him from his mania.
"Rath! We haven't come here for senseless destruction. You have studied the numbers, you know we will need the duke's support if we want to hold Pherae."
Rath worked his jaw for a moment longer before he stepped back from the tapestry. "As always, you speak truth. Such shameful behavior will not befall me again."
Lucina nodded and waited for Rath to join her and Cordelia. But although she continued her way along the hall with a steady march, her mind remained with Rath's seemingly unfounded action for a moment longer. He had to have crossed paths with Marcus or another bearer of his crest before. A story hid here, one that begged for discovery. Lucina filed this information for later use. She would ask Rath for details at a more fitting moment.
The present first demanded her fullest attention; she had reached the doors to Marcus' chambers. Now she would prove whether her journey to Satar was a flight into distraction or the crucial turning point that would win her war.
The two guards at the door bowed with the bare minimum of enthusiasm before they waved Lucina and her escort inside.
The room beyond continued the spartan design from the rest of the residence; without bookcases or life-sized paintings, the chamber appeared even taller. Fitting for the man who stood with his legs apart at the windowfront ahead. No further escape routes presented themselves. Lucina stopped in her tracks when her examining gaze swept the fireplace. Above the mantlepiece hung a curved sword, polished to perfection and embellished with a thin red line on the ridge. A ribbon in the same color wound around the hilt.
Lucina swallowed. A blood oath saber.
Without a doubt.
But before she could draw implications, Marcus turned from the window to face her.
"Have you finally learned to place your feet farther apart?" he asked as he gave Lucina a look-over. "I see your posture has improved."
"Marcus," Lucina said, "it has… been a while."
"True enough. I have gotten older, and you have gotten good enough at fencing to beat the king. It seems some of the things I taught you didn't go to waste after all. Then again… if I hadn't wasted my time with you, we wouldn't be standing in the middle of a civil war, would we?"
"Am I at war with you?"
Marcus stroked his beard. The hair had greyed out further since Lucina had last seen him. But both his posture and the precise movements of his sword hand had lost nothing of their imposing nature. One sword stroke of his could still shatter the technique of lesser fighters.
"Depends," Marcus said. "Although you will have to give me a really good reason for why you betrayed your knightly honor and raised your sword against His Highness. A very admirable sword, I might add. I'd like to know the armory you stole it from."
"I could ask you the same thing." Lucina nodded towards the blood oath saber. "But maybe the better question would be why you are in possession of any sword when I ordered the guards to keep you in custody until a direct order from me."
"Ha! I trained those kids outside. If I wanted to escape, it would be very easy. I wouldn't even need that saber over there."
"Then why are you still here? I can't imagine it is because you feel attached to this house."
A grin tugged at Marcus' lips as he stepped over to his course-crafted desk. "Still quick with your tongue. I always liked that in my pupils."
"Then I assume it's the rust of Satar that makes you feel right at home."
Marcus laughed. "Very good! An ancient city for ancient people. Take a look out of that window there, and you will see rust and copper grime sticks to the houses like a disease. With every year, the disease eats further into the stone, and yet Satar is still standing. When it rains, the rust makes it seem like the walls are crying blood. And recently, that image became closer to the truth than ever, didn't it?"
"You and your sword over there certainly had nothing to do with it."
"Careful, Lucina, you can take it too far with your wit. If you start disobeying orders from your king, for example. Or plunge a sword into his chest. Say, is His Highness still alive?"
Lucina forced herself to keep her breath even. "I locked him up in Johtran."
"Good. If you had killed him, I would end this conversation right here." Marcus realigned a set of scrolls on his desk but made no moves to sit down. "Usually it's the prisoner who has to drag himself in front of the king. What brings you here?"
"I wanted to make certain of your loyalty to the Pheraen Empire."
"Ah, but there lies the problem, doesn't it? You and I have a different understanding of what the Pheraen Empire is."
"Then what about your loyalty to the crown? Your recent actions, including the burning of all decrees I sent towards you, have not exactly spoken in your favor."
"My loyalty was always with the heart of Pherae. That won't change because some Altean ward happened to parade a golden circlet on her head."
"You are a knight. You owe this golden circlet your devotion."
"I'm retired."
"You are a thief." Rath had glared at the blood oath saber in silence so far, but now he had shaken off all leashes and besieged Marcus with increasingly murderous glares. "What was the name of the Lorca you slew to claim this? Speak the truth and quick, while you still have a tongue."
Marcus, for the first time, acknowledged the presence of Lucina's escort. What he saw in Rath did not seem to impress him.
"A Lorca, I see," Marcus said. "You have veered far off the grasslands of Sacae. But you didn't gain any manners in the process, it seems."
Lucina restrained Rath with an outstretched arm. "Rath, please."
"No, let the Lorca talk, I've missed the sound of their little provincial accent." Marcus nodded towards the blood oath saber. "I used to do business for Eliwood in Sacae quite often. Kept everything in order between Ostia and the tribes. My accomplishments there are probably the reason Eliwood awarded me with a duke title for my retirement."
"You dress your sword in blood and call it accomplishment!" Rath shouted.
"I'm afraid you are mistaken, young man. This saber you see there was a gift. From a… dear friend."
"Your lies are like a poison you yourself have come to enjoy drinking."
Marcus marched forward, only three steps but enough to intimidate. The crest on his golden cape brooch flashed like a warning fire.
"Do you want me to prove my claims in a duel?" he asked. "I well remember how you Lorca love to settle your disputes with a duel. I'll let you choose the weapons. Or are you more of a bare-handed type?"
"There will be no need for a duel," Lucina said. Her voice cut through the air, and the tension shifted at once, awaiting her command. "Marcus, do you still cultivate friendships with members of the Lorca clan?"
"I haven't had a reason to visit Sacae in years."
"It just so happens that a Lorca recently attempted to assassinate me. You have surely heard of the incident. It gave hundreds of Pheraens the confidence to carry their resentment against the new imperial leadership to the palace."
"I haven't heard that one. News tends to have a hard time reaching into a prison cell."
"Don't mock me. You admitted yourself that you could escape at any time." Lucina gestured at the blood oath saber above the fireplace. "The assassin wielded a saber quite like this one. I was ordering troops against you at the same time. My death would have been a healthy coincidence for you, right?"
"You are paranoid."
"I admit, when I think back to the afternoons you trained me at the palace's sand rotunda, I find it almost impossible to believe that you would hire assassins to kill me. But I thought the same about Roy. Forgive me my wild imagination. I'm sure you can give me more convincing excuses than he did."
Marcus jutted his chin in a fashion eerily similar to a Lorca. "I'm a knight. I don't hide behind assassins."
"I see," Lucina said. "Rath, you may take the blood oath saber. And if that does not satisfy your grudge to allow us a calm conversation, you may leave. Understood?"
Rath sent a last glare at Marcus' crest before he backed down. "I accept your judgement, heir to Marth."
Lucina bit her lip. Rath hadn't used that title to address her in months. But she said nothing as he freed the blood oath saber from its mounting and returned to his post next to Cordelia.
Marcus watched with his hands crossed behind his back. "Only a thief can command thieves."
"I apologize for the trouble," Lucina said. "I will return the saber to you in case your story turns out to be the truth."
"So you say. Did you make a similar promise to His Highness?"
"Your precious Highness is a murderer. There's no need to prove that story," Cordelia hissed, but Lucina raised a hand to silence her.
She didn't have the time or the nerves to fight with her subjects. Her control over them was slipping from her grasp faster than she could think of countermeasures. Old grudges and broken promises tainted their loyalties. And if Roy emerged victoriously from Thria? Wouldn't Lucina's subjects flock around him all the faster?
With tremendous difficulty, she banned the roars of Thria's river to the back of her mind. She had come to Satar to forge alliances, not lose them in senseless quarrels.
"Roy has no legitimate heir," Lucina said. "Not one from his blood at least. Instead, he planned for me to succeed him. You know this as well as I do, Marcus. Otherwise he wouldn't have instructed you to teach me swordsmanship. Or do you think he would have ordered you back to the court for a simple ward?"
"That makes you no less a thief," Marcus said. "And it shames me that a knight I trained has fallen so far."
"Then you approve of the way he oppressed and murdered the people of Altea? I had to stop him."
"Be that as it may. But you should have never taken the crown for yourself. An Altean girl on the throne of Pherae, where did you think this was going?"
Lucina hated herself for the step she took backwards. Like a squire who feared the hand of her tutor. "There was no one else…"
"There were countless others."
"I had to keep the Empire united to avoid chaos. This is what Naga chose me for."
"Ha! You're too old to hide behind stories of gods. You're the one who swings the sword, and you're the one who has to answer for your actions. When you defeated Roy, you could have taken Altea, the land that belonged to you, and give Pherae to the people it belonged to. But the greed of a thief made you decide otherwise. And here we are now. In the middle of a civil war of your making."
"It doesn't have to be a civil war, Marcus." Lucina reached out a hand. The faintest tremor rocked her fingers. "Help me maintain order. Lead Satar under my rulership as you have done under Roy and Eliwood before."
"Are you so desperate that you come to an old man for help?"
"Your word and your crest still have influence in Pherae."
Marcus stroked his beard and studied Lucina's posture with narrowed eyes. He could stress his age and his retirement all he wanted, he would forever remain the man who shoved squires on their way to success with an armored hand.
"I'm not entirely opposed to your request," he said. "But I am surprised. You want an alliance even though you suspect me of ordering your assassination. Not to mention all the soldiers of yours I killed to keep Satar out of your grasp before."
Lucina tensed. Frederick had done his utmost to hide the list from her, but the parchment detailing the casualties had found its way onto her desk regardless. Almost one hundred names. One hundred men and women she had sacrificed to win Satar. And now she negotiated with the man who had staged the battle in which they had died. The gravestones and burned down pyres stood on a hill less than a quarter of a wyvern mile away. If Lucina looked out of the window, she might spot them beyond the snow-covered walls of the city.
"You refused to talk with me before," she said. Her throat itched with imaginary smoke. "Their sacrifices were…"
Marcus finished the sentence for her. "Necessary? I wonder if you truly believe that. And when I hand you the soldiers of Satar and all the lords who still value my word, what will you do with them?"
"We will use them to reclaim Talys," Cordelia said.
Lucina closed her eyes. She had hoped not to discuss this matter.
"Shanna is going to war with you?" Marcus grumbled a laugh. "I can't say I'm surprised. But it is disappointing to hear that you are playing along with her folly."
"For the moment, I have abandoned all plans to battle with Talys." Cordelia sucked in a sharp breath, but Lucina ignored her. She had to. "My priority first and foremost lies in the stability of Pherae. That is why I came to see you personally. I need your help, Marcus. We have to erase the good-will people still harbor towards Roy. If we allow for sympathies towards him to flourish…"
"What then?"
"Roy has escaped prison, you old fool!" Cordelia shouted. "If the Pheraens keep clinging to him like mindless ants, then we will have the civil war you blabber about so much."
Lucina stepped forward, one hand placed on Falchion's hilt. "Cordelia!"
But too late.
"That changes the situation," Marcus said. His tone still had the power to make Lucina flinch and ease the grip on her sword.
"Then you are siding with him?" Lucina asked. "With a murderer and a tyrant?"
Marcus pointed at her. "King Roy is the rightful heir to this crown. What more can a knight do than follow the call of his king? You might have forgotten this. But I have not."
Lucina smiled without humor. "Loyalty or death – is that all you believe in?"
"You never understood the saying. All you ever saw was the threat, the idea that someone would order your head onto the scaffold if you didn't stay loyal. But that's not what the words mean. A true knight of Pherae will rather die than betray the loyalty to their king."
"Is this your final answer?"
"We would be better off with his head in the dust," Rath said.
Marcus ignored him and kept his attention fixed on Lucina. "My final answer is this: If you kill Roy, you will be not only a thief but a murderous traitor as well. And then I will know the same fate awaits me the moment I'm no longer useful to you. If he kills you instead, I will kneel before him and ask his forgiveness for not stopping your reign when I had the chance."
"You will simply wait until we have killed one another," Lucina said. "Then the crown would go to you, wouldn't it? As the highest ranking noble family in Pherae, all you have to do is wait until you can hoist your crest over Lycia's palace."
Marcus smiled and returned to the window where he stood with his legs apart in a steady stance as before. "Don't underestimate the ability of an old man to wait," he said. "I never sought the crown, but if the passage of fate places it into my hands so willingly… For the sake of Pherae, I will not object. At least then it won't be an Altean thief who runs this nation to the ground."
Both Rath and Cordelia tensed for the leap; they only waited for the order to end Marcus. Falchion hugged Lucina's palm, the steel already hummed with anticipation. It would be so easy. A few steps, one stroke, and splashes of red on the plain walls. But was this what Naga wanted?
Was this what Lucina wanted?
"I should kill you." Lucina's breath rattled in her ears. Did the others notice too?
Marcus kept his eyes on the mountain ranges beyond the window. "And will you?"
Lucina forced her hand away from Falchion. A gesture of her called Rath and Cordelia to relax. The anger still smoldered on their faces, but for the moment they obeyed.
"We are done here," Lucina said and marched towards the doors. "Rath and Cordelia will stay for a few days and make sure the handover of power in Satar finishes without further delay. And, Marcus, if I were you, I wouldn't be so certain about an old man's ability to wait. You will disappear in the fire soon enough."
Marcus laughed. "Still quick to counter. Roy had that same energy when I trained him."
Lucina only stopped for a heartbeat. "I am not Roy. I'm not a tyrant."
"So you say."
The doors slammed shut before Marcus could poison Lucina's ears further.
Notes: This chapter felt longer in my mind, but looking at the word count, it's rather modest. Nevertheless, I always find it a fun one to revisit. It's a nice change of pace from Book I to see Lucina fail so spectacularly in recruiting new units for her cause. And even the units she does have are becoming more and more difficult to handle, as you have probably noticed here. The next chapter will bring you the confrontation in Thira. I hope you look forward to it.
