Fighting Fair

By: Chaoslace

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Chapter 5: Begin Again

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No one was comfortable when the Dread Isle came into sight. A thick, sticky fog had passed over them like a curtain and the ship creaked ominously in the dark waters. Strange shapes could be seen darting just below the surface, and the normally boisterous crew had become hushed and withdrawn. Even Fargus seemed strained by the evil atmosphere of the place; his eyes were dark and focused straight ahead, and drops of sweat beaded on his forehead.

The commanders had assembled the troops to be ready to disembark. They stood in clusters and lines, not talking or joking, just looking nervously from one another to the shrouded isle and then back again. Rumors had started to spread about what lay in wait there, and despite assurances from Lord Eliwood, the shadow of fear settled around them. As they drew closer, it became almost as thick as the fog.

"I don't like the looks of this," Guy whispered to Matthew. They stood together, a little apart from the others, looking out over the railing. Matthew said nothing, and after a few minutes of silence Guy tugged at his hair and started to braid it into a tight cord.

Matthew looked over at him. "Is that a nervous habit or something?"

He tied off the braid and let it fall down his back. "I'm just getting ready for battle."

The thief raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you're okay for that? How's your tummy feeling?" he asked in a mocking motherly tone.

Guy grimaced. "I'm fine now, thank you," he mumbled. He crossed his arms and stared sullenly at the rocky shore. It's so humid, he thought, shifting uncomfortably, even in his light tunic. He noted Matthew pacing restlessly behind him. It's getting to everyone.

They waited for another half hour as the ship made her way carefully through the reefs. Through the fog a dark forest became visible not a hundred yards from the shore. As they made their landing, Captain Fargus came down from the top deck, speaking with Lord Eliwood.

"I know the forest is dangerous, but this is damn near the only safe place to get near the wretched island," he said, eying the treeline warily.

"I understand," Eliwood said. "Thank you so much for your trouble."

"Aye," the old pirate said, then shook his head. "You mooncalves take care of yourselves down there. I don't like the feel of the air here, not one bit."

"We'll be fine," the lord assured him calmly.

Guy watched his commander from where he stood a few steps away. How can he be so collected? he wondered. It's like he doesn't even have feelings. "I wish I could be that cool," he murmured under his breath.

"He needs to stay cool," Matthew said, still facing the shore. "If he showed even a little bit of fear, it would shake the army's resolve, down to the very last man." He turned towards Guy. "Leaders can't afford the luxury of humanity."

Guy looked at him quizzically. "Matthew, what's gotten into you? You sound like the end of the world is coming."

The thief gave him a surprised look, then shook his head. "You're right. Dunno what I was thinking." There was a slight jostling that indicated the ship had come to a stop. "Right! Seems like we're here!" He picked up his bag and strode away whistling, the picture of perfect joviality. Guy was the only one that saw how forced it was. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously, then grabbed his satchel and stepped in line to exit the ship.

* * *

"I hate this!"

The piercing exclamation came from Serra, who had stepped off the planking right into an ankle-deep puddle of mud. Her robes had been dirtied almost to the knees, and she was stomping around angrily trying to shake some of it off.

"I hate hate hate it! I'm never going to get these stains out!"

"We could toss you in the harbor," a nearby Erk suggested mildly. Behind him, Bartre put down a large box he'd been carrying and sniggered.

Serra tromped over and sat down heavily on the crate. "Maybe you think it's funny," she said, crossing her arms.

"Actually, I rather do," he said. "So sorry."

"Break it up, you two," came an authoritative voice. They turned to see Hector approaching with a small box under each arm. "Bartre, do you have that crate? I think that's the last of it, so let's get this stuff over to Merlinus."

"Yes, sir!" Bartre said, then crouched to get a grip on the crate. He grunted and lifted it in one smooth movement.

"HEY!" Serra shrieked. "I'm still on here, stupid! Put me down, put me down!" she yelled, bashing the poor fighter on the head with her staff.

"'Fraid I can't do that, Miss Serra," he said in a muffled voice. "Got to... get this to Merlinus... phoo. It's heavier 'an it looked... OW!"

By the time the large man and the precariously balanced cleric arrived at the merchant tent, the rest of the group had disembarked and Lyndis was taking a quick head count. One of the pirate crew had stayed with them, a sharp-looking man by the name of Dart. He spoke with Hector in hushed tones, then the lord nodded and turned to make his way his way through the crowd. Matthew, who had been sitting on a tree stump and securing his boots, looked up to see him approach.

"Matthew," he said.

The thief stood quickly and bowed. "Young master!" he said. "Can I do something for you?"

The lord grinned and gestured to the air around them. "How are your sharp eyes with this fog?"

Matthew sniffed. "It's not too bad." His mouth turned upward in a grin. "Would you like me to do some scouting?"

Hector thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No, I don't want anyone separated from the group. Dart says there's a way through the forest, but we can't see beyond the treeline. Eliwood and Lyndis thought we might go take a look for ourselves, and I could use your help."

"You got it!" The thief secured his cloak around his shoulders, then followed his master to where Lyn and Eliwood were standing and talking. Next to Eliwood was the girl, Ninian, her eyes still dark and unfocused. She wavered and he placed his arm around her back protectively. Lyn leaned forward and put a hand on her forehead, then frowned slightly.

"How is she?" asked Hector as they approached.

Lyn shook her head. "I don't know," she said. "She's still unresponsive, and so cool to the touch."

"Still doesn't remember anything?"

"No more than before. She seems to remember me somewhat, and Eliwood especially, but not much else."

Matthew took a step forward. "What do you think happened to Nils, milady?" he asked quietly.

Lyn looked over at him. "I wish I knew, Matthew," she said, concern showing in her face.

Ninian murmured and Eliwood looked at the others sheepishly. "Do you mind if she comes with us? I don't want to leave her alone."

Lyn and Hector exchanged quick looks, and a slower individual than Matthew might not have even noticed it. He did, however, and kept his smile to himself. Amidst the three commanders, he felt better somehow. He knew that they felt the ominous air too, but the warmth and confidence they shared encouraged him. It isn't so bad, he thought. After all, this is my element.

He was about to graciously suggest that Lord Eliwood and Ninian stay behind together when the young girl cried out sharply. The three lords looked at her in alarm, and her eyes were wide open in fear.

"I..." she said, struggling to get the words out. "Something is there..." she pointed towards the dark forest with one trembling hand. She pulled away from Eliwood and took a few steps forward. "In the forest... something... dark..." Lyn ran forward and grasped her shoulders, pulling her gently back and trying to soothe her.

"Ninian," Eliwood said, grasping the hilt of his sword with one hand. His expression hardened, and he looked over at Hector. The lords nodded to each other, then drew their weapons and moved forward slowly.

Matthew slid his dagger from its wrist holder, but kept it light in his palm and concealed beneath his cloak as his eyes searched the thick fog.

"Matthew," Hector whispered. "Do you see anything?"

He was about to shake his head when he saw a dark shape moving behind the treeline. "Someone's there," he hissed. "I can see them now."

"Show us," Eliwood growled low under his breath.

Silently, Matthew crept forward. He kept his eyes locked on their target, which had stopped moving. He could see a vague human outline as they grew closer, then shapes and colors began to reveal themselves.

"I see him too," said Hector softly. "What is he waiting for? A messenger maybe?"

Matthew squinted, then recognition dawned over his face. He stood up straight and gestured for the others to put away their weapons. "Don't worry. It's a friend," he said, smiling broadly.

They stepped forward, and Hector and Eliwood saw her at the same time. A young woman was leaning back against a tree, her eyes closed and arms crossed over her chest. Straight red hair fell across her forehead and just barely touched the bottom of her ears. "Leila!" Hector exclaimed, laughing softly. "We thought you were an enemy!" He strode forward. "I'm impressed that you managed to find us here. Good work as usual!" He patted her heartily on the shoulder, jostling her and causing her arms to fall to her sides.

Matthew's heart stopped.

Her face was the same, her expression so peaceful and composed, her cheeks still flushed. But the rest of her... The front of her vest was torn and stained dark red with blood, revealing a deep, angry gash from her breastbone to her abdomen. Hector pulled his arm back and she crumpled, sliding down the slick trunk of the tree before falling onto her side.

"My god," said Eliwood softly behind him. The words hung in the air for an impossibly long time before sinking into his skin. Hector said nothing, just backed away slowly, his expression hardened and angry. The three of them stood in silence that way for several minutes before Hector spoke again.

"Matthew," he said hoarsely. "I... I'm sorry..."

"About what, milord?" Matthew said, unable to tear his eyes from Leila's torn and broken body. "It's a dangerous profession," he said, almost mechanically. "We both knew the risks."

Eliwood stepped forward to put his hand on the thief's shoulder. Matthew shrugged him off and turned to face the two lords. "I was going to ask her to give it up, when this was all over," he whispered, a small smile touching his lips. "I guess I waited too long, huh?" He laughed, once, a sharp sound that cut through the heavy air. He shook his head and his face became serious again. "Well, it's not going to happen now."

Hector looked at him for a long time, his eyes full of pain and regret. "Matthew..."

"Milord," Matthew cut him off. "I'd like to be alone with her, if that's okay." He turned away, his shoulders heavy. "Please," he added softly. "Someone needs to give her a proper burial."

Hector looked at Eliwood, then back to Matthew. He nodded reluctantly. "Alright. Come back to camp as soon as you can." With that he turned and left, gesturing for Eliwood to follow.

Matthew sank to his knees and pressed his hands to the soft earth. The soil was moist and cool, and he started digging with his hands, pulling up clumps of earth and grass and tossing them to the side. His vision blurred and he worked faster, tearing at the ground until his fingers were scraped and bruised. When the soil turned to clay, he ripped out his sword and hacked at it viciously, sending bits of the raw red earth flying into the air. "Where was I?" he cried out, striking down hard. "Where was I! Goddamn it!" His sword hit a rock and clattered out of his hand, jarring his wrist painfully. He moaned and leaned forward, covering his face with his hands. Tears fell from his eyes, mixing with the dirt on his hands and smudging his face.

A noise behind him made him grab his sword and whirl around. "Who's there?" he called out suspiciously, wiping his eyes with the back of one hand.

"It's me," said a familiar voice, and Guy emerged from the fog. "Lyn sent me to-"

"Well, don't," Matthew snapped, turning back to the hole he was digging. He levered out a large chunk of clay and let it fall heavily to the side. "Just go away, Guy."

There was a long silence, and he checked over his shoulder. The swordsman was still standing there, his arms crossed over his chest and a resolute expression on his face. Matthew growled and stood up swiftly, his battered sword still in one hand. He stalked up to Guy and grasped him roughly by the front of his tunic.

"M-Matthew!" he said, startled. "What the-"

"Shut up," the thief snarled. "I don't know what ideas you got about friendship or teamwork from that touchy-feely commander of ours, but I do know one thing. I work alone." He shoved Guy backwards. "It's part of the job, you know? I work alone. She worked alone. I don't need you, or anyone, okay?" Guy tried to take a step forward and he stopped him with the point of his sword. "So go back to your friends. Leave me to my work."

Guy just looked back at him, his eyes full of hurt and confusion. Matthew's heart ached, but he didn't lower his sword. After a long moment like that, Guy took a step backward and nodded, then disappeared into the fog.

Matthew let out a long breath, his arm falling back to his side. He turned and walked resignedly back to the shallow grave he had dug. He knelt and measured it with his arms, very carefully making sure it was large enough. When he was convinced, he went to the forest's edge and gathered an armful of soft pine branches, taking them back to line the bottom. He laid it in carefully, constructing a sweet-smelling bed of greenery. He rocked back on his heels, then stood and turned to face Leila for the first time since he'd been left alone with her.

She still lay on her side, the red hair fanned around her head in stark contrast with the dark earth. A pang of grief and regret struck his heart and he winced. He approached her slowly, almost reverently, then knelt.

"Leila," he whispered, gathering her into his arms. He bit back tears as he smoothed her hair back. "I'm so sorry," he choked. "I know you're probably mad at me for being upset." He stood slowly, lifting her up. "But I miss you so much right now." He took her to the earth-bed that he'd laid out for her. "I just need a little time. Then," he paused, his words caught in his chest. "I'll be fine." He hugged her to him once last time, then bent and laid her down on the soft greens.

He straightened her clothes and folded her arms over her stomach. Her expression was still calm and peaceful, and it made him smile a little. "Thank you," he said, then kissed her forehead and set about filling in the earth around her.

Once he had covered her grave, he patted down the soft mound and placed a large piece of red clay at the head. He took out his dagger and carved "Leila" into the surface of it. Taking a step back, he bowed his head and said a silent eulogy. He was just about ready to turn back to the camp when he heard a sound.

"Guy, what did I-" he started to say, turning. His words fell short when he found himself staring into the faces of three grinning mercenaries. They were dressed in dark blue jackets belted with brown leather around the waist and the upper arms. Each had a mean-looking sword at his hip.

"Oh, hello there," Matthew said, taking a step backward. He reached for his sword, but realized that he had left it at the forest's edge. Not that it would do him much good after being dulled on the compact clay. "I don't suppose you're on our side, are you?"

"I guess that depends on who's side you're on, little man," one of the goons said, laughing harshly.

"Hey, check this out, boss," the shorter one said, nudging the clay headstone with his toe.

The leader stepped forward and leaned down to read the inscription. "Le-i-la," he read. "Baw haw! Lookie here! Must be a friend of that bitch we laid out here earlier." His lips turned into a sneer. "You find her, little man? Like our handiwork?"

Matthew growled low in his throat. "Did you kill her?" he asked, his voice cold.

The man laughed again, then kicked the headstone hard with one booted foot. The clay crumbled and went flying into pieces. "Maybe I did. Maybe I'll kill you too. Would you like that? Be with your lady friend again?" His cronies snickered and drew their swords, advancing on either side to surround him.

The thief backed away slowly, unsheathing his dagger under his cloak. No way out, he thought, his eyes darting around. No weapon to speak of. He crouched slightly, readying his dagger. At least I can take down their leader before I die. But he didn't kill Leila. I don't know who did, but it sure as hell wasn't him.

The three mercenaries were almost on him when a voice rang out sharply through the fog. "Three on one?" it said amusedly. "That doesn't really seem fair, now does it?"

They turned, searching for the source of the voice. "Who's there?" the largest one grunted. "Show yourself!"

Matthew knew better than to miss this opportunity, and he was on the nearest mercenary in a matter of seconds. He buried his dagger deep in the man's right shoulder, causing him to roar and whirl around. Matthew easily dodged the incoming blow, which went far wide due to the dagger wound. The others didn't have a chance to respond before a hurricane of blue steel descended on them, slicing the smallest one once, then twice in the back. He fell without a word.

"Guy!" Matthew cried out, dodging other swing from the injured soldier. "I've never been happier to seen anyone in my life!"

"Leave me alone," said Guy between his teeth, panting heavily as he sparred with the leader. "I'm working."

Matthew laughed, then lunged forward, crouching low to cut right into the unfortunate mercenary's gut. The man screamed, then fell to his knees. "I'll be taking this," Matthew said, easily liberating his victim's sword, and then using it to fell the killing blow. "You won't be needing it, anyway."

Guy had gotten the advantage in his fight, and it didn't take him long to exploit it. Though the man was quite strong, he wasn't too skilled with a blade, and Guy baited him in. When he raised his arm to strike, Guy flicked his own sword up, easily disarming him. The man sputtered, then sank to his knees.

"I didn't kill her! I swear I didn't! Have mercy, please!"

Matthew walked up behind Guy, who turned to look at him. "What do you think?" he asked.

"It is two against one... not exactly fighting fair..." Matthew said, a grin spreading across his face.

Guy grinned back. "Sounds good to me," he said, and the two of them raised their swords above their victim. The man shrieked and ran away, tripping over one of his fallen colleagues before disappearing into the forest. Guy started to follow, but Matthew grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"Let him go," he said. "He's not worth it." He bent down and wiped his new sword on the ground. "So, spill it. What were you doing here?"

Guy flushed a little. "Well, I didn't exactly leave when you told me to."

Matthew looked at him in disbelief, then a smile spread across his face and he started to laugh. "You were hiding this whole time? Oh Guy, I'm so proud of you! Sneaking around like a thief."

"Very funny. It was my swordwork that saved you back there, don't forget!"

Matthew patted his friend on the shoulder and nodded solemnly. "That it did. Thank you very much, my friend." He took another look around, then glanced to the sky. "We should go back. They'll be worrying soon."

Guy nodded and the two of them set off together for the camp. "So, uh, Matthew," he said after a moment.

"Mm?"

"This means we're even, right? I saved your life, so... I don't owe you any more, right?"

Matthew chuckled. "I don't think so," he said. "You owe me one for every piece of meat!"

Guy gaped. "What? You saved my life one, I saved your life once! We're even!"

"Nuh-uh... you wrote it on the oathpaper, remember? You still owe me twice over."

Guy stopped in his tracks. "What? That's - That's not fair!"

Matthew looked at him, his eyes dancing in amusement. "My dear friend, that's exactly the point, isn't it?"

The swordsman smacked his forehead with his hand. "Give me the strength to suffer this man," he moaned, then turned and started trudging back towards the camp.

Matthew followed along cheerfully, his hands in his pockets. After a few minutes he paused, letting his friend go on ahead a bit. He faced back to where he'd buried Leila. "Goodbye," he said under his breath, smiling. "Thanks for looking out for me. I'll take care of him, I promise. And the others too." With that, he bowed, and then turned back to return to his friends.