-Dark Flame-
(C) Fire Emblem
Original ideas copyrighted to Nintendo and Intelligent Systems
Fan Fiction by Becki
Chapter Eleven: Unknown Loss
"There are scattered brigands all around the city walls, most have already penetrated through and are terrorizing the civilians." Nathaniel, the informant said formally, pointing to a crudely drawn map on a rough table. "Most are axe users, but there are mercenaries scattered without and a few archers. They are great in number, perhaps fourty units. The casualties are raising as I speak." He said bitterly.
"Captain?" Breya said. Rath frowned.
"Lady Breya, you and your cavaliers head west, properly armed and prepared." He couldn't help but feel apprehensive, he wasn't so experienced in military tactics. It seemed far too late to back down, for he had lessons weeks ago on such a situation.
"Also, Captian, I have been informed that a nearby mercenary group is lending us their aid. They have a few well trained units for you to order."
"Very well." Rath said, his mouth a tight line. "They will head east. Our sword-using militia will come through the center with the archers behind. We'll close the enemy in a circle as tight as possible. You are dismissed to carry out your orders." It wasn't hard for him to be formal and tight with this, it was already in his personality. All officers departed to start battle.
Nathaniel left to gather more information, and Rath mounted his stallion and joined the center flank.
"So, you come from the Sacae?" A timid archer asked her. The nomadic trooper smiled gently and stared ahead towards their destination, her eyes narrow.
"Hm. I am of the Kutolah tribe. I know you must think it strange that I left my home. I, a woman and Sacaen to fight in a mercenary group."
"So why do it? The people of the plains hardly ever wish to involve in other's matters." The young archer said, walking alongside her horse as the neared the town in need.
"...You can say I'm on a personal journey." She said casually, brushing dust from her yellow clothing. "I'm.. searching for someone.. I once knew."
"..." The archer stopped as a man approached them, unarmed.
"Are you the mercenary group assigned to aid Araphen?"
"Yes." The Nomadic Trooper said taking charge, looking down at him from her horse. The archer tensed. "We have seven units with us."
"The Captain as ordered your group to pass to the east. We are planning to circle the brigands. Do you understand?"
"Yes." The woman said, brushing her braid behind her shoulder. "We will arrive there immediately." She turned and faced the others.
"Let's ride."
The first brigand downed by his arrow fell to the ground with a clatter, his axe slipping from his hand. Rath grimaced and loaded another arrow to his bow and looked at the mess. It was a commonly used tactic. The archers behind would weaken the enemy while the swords at front finished them off. He looked forward to see whether the two sides started to close in like he had described.
Rath was at the front lines. The flank was evenly spread out with a good amount of space between each fighter. Rath was lightly defended and had no armor save for his leather shoulder and chest guard. However there was a rare of a time the enemy ever got through even enough to nick his stallion's snout with his axe, for he would always be downed with three or four arrows by the prepared archers.
The formation was starting to shake. A few times some units were forced back or forward. It was starting to break. When Rath saw this it was already to late to get back into position.
Upon downing another bandit with a nimble shot of his bow, Rath left what was left of the formation, stopping the stallion and issuing orders to stop any panic before it happened.
"Fight at will!" He said over the battle noise and mess. The formation was broken, but the central group pushed through towards the heart of the town. There were still innocents within battle. Most were locked away in their houses, but their wooden doors proved very little protection against the sharp metal swords and axes.
Keeping an arrow loaded in his short bow, Rath slipped through the rows to go further ahead. He heard someone call to him, saying something about his safety, but he didn't stop to heed it. Shooting once, twice. Arrows flew from the bow string, leaving a buzzing vibration in his fingers. If the first arrow didn't stop them, another one of some archer behind did. When Rath was out of the safety of the range of the archers of Araphen, he was in a more vulnerable position.
The group of bandits grew thicker, and Rath was further ahead of his group. He was an archer, with no hand-to-hand fighter with him. All the more reason for them to attack.
When they charged in for the attack, the Captain of Araphen reared his stallion and gave a single shot. It was hard to miss, especially because of their bulky figure. They seemed to have little experience, with tactics that involved running like a berserker and hacking at anything that was there.
There was a cry that stifled through the chaos of battle. Rath heard it almost immediately, it stood out against the harsh tones and contrasted greatly from the clashing of weapons. A child's cry. Before there was any time to act and just enough to think, more bandits threw themselves his way. Keeping his horse towards the wall of an alley so nobody could sneak up behind him, he kept shooting. Praying that his arrows would last, he knew there were too many bandits advancing on him.
Slipping the shortest glance towards his group, he saw them advancing slowly, there was no chance for anybody to come to his aid quick enough. His arrows were running short.
Timing carefully, he shot down one fairly large brigand, and as he fell Rath quickly and effectively kicked the side of his horse to goad him into a run, pulling hard on the reins. The horse shied, pawing at the air at the sudden gesture. The axe men that had run toward him paused in shock as the horse threatened to crash down on them. Yet another advantage of mounted units.
Dashing over the dead body of the large brigand, the gray stallion fled this area of the scene. Rath listened intently for the cry again, and heard it, closer this time. Without a moment's hesitation he shot at a mercenary and didn't pause to see him fall.
At all costs, he must find the source of this cry, or punish anyone who dared to harm an innocent.
He knew all to much how difficult it is for a child to witness such a monstrosity. It was far to late for him.
Raising her sword, the Nomadic Trooper glared through the window of her bangs. Her cheek was bleeding freely, scarlet staining her light clothing. Her horse bucked back its head, the hairs of its mane flaring into her face. Ducking low she swung her thin, long sword at a brigand. The formation was falling on the east side as well as the center. The seven of the mercenary units, trained and experienced as they were, were failing at the large numbers of the enemy.
"Keep together!" She shouted over the battle. A cavalier rode beside her, his steel lance shining with scarlet. The timid archer stood behind her, loading and shooting of arrows. She sheathed her own sword and took up her short bow. Stringing it wordlessly and with great skill, she shot at the back of the wave of brigands, cutting off the source before they could get to the first line.
"There's.. too many of them!" The archer gasped behind her. The Sacaen frowned.
"Numbers are meaningless!" She said, stringing another arrow. Closing one eye, she aimed carefully and the arrow found its mark. "Keep moving forward!"
When they downed the last brigand in the threat of attacking close by, She turned in her saddle and counted the mercenaries.
"Six.." She said out loud. "We're missing one!"
"Aeron fell." The archer said, his chin trembling. The Nomadic Trooper's face fell, and she whispered words of passing under her breath.
"Are there any injured?" She asked, wiping her cheek and smearing blood.
"I don't know how long I'll last." The cavalier said with husky breath, his fingers pressed to his side, the stream of crimson leaking through. Someone passed him a vulnerary, and the Nomadic Trooper looked around the group again for further information. Nothing serious from most of them.
"Father Sky." She gasped as more brigands approached.
The burly man groaned, dropped his weapon and clutched his stomach, fingers tight around the arrow that protruded his flesh. The young boy-no more than a child-stepped back, his back to the wall. He was too afraid this time to cry out. The rider who had shot down the bandit lowered his bow and rode closer.
The boy shivered and cowered. Rath extended a hand to him, silent. The boy stared up, his face smeared with blood and bruises on his knees from falling. His eyes looked so frightened, with a look that asked what would become of him. The Captain's eyes were piercing and unrevealing, frightening perhaps, but clear.
Leaning forward, the boy lay a small hand in the Sacaen's palm. As he helped the child up on the mount, Rath had not said a word. No questions or rebukes. Meek in his silence, but it was also eerie. The boy clung onto the neck of the horse eyes shut tight, not heeding the stallion's grunted warning.
His arrows were severely lacking in number. Missing his target was not an option if he needed to survive this battle. He played the same strategic maneuver and kept his back to the wall, shooting at anyone who came close. The child whimpered and buried his face in the disgruntled horse's neck.
When Rath was on his last arrow, he was still composed. He was never afraid of death. It was only natural that he would expect it at anytime. But he was nonetheless relieved as well as surprised when a javelin struck down the brigand he had planned to aim at.
Breya stiffly rode over and pulled her javelin casually from the brigand's back. More cavaliers came from between the alleys.
"Captain." She said dryly, and looked at the cowering boy questioningly. Rath didn't answer, choosing to use his last arrow to shoot down the brigand behind her instead.
Whatever had happened it wasn't good. The Nomadic Trooper noticed that the Bandits had begun to retreat, but they were now heading east in retreat. This caused a flood of brigands in the mercenary group's direction.
Two of them after Aeron had fallen. That gentle mannered archer who had passed out after an axe in the shoulder shuddered and fell into the cold hands of death. A mage's magic tome was exhausted and he fell victim to target. The Sacaen whispered kind, respectful words, her eyes narrowed with sorrow. The archer was so young, so innocent. The mage was planning on studying after he raised enough money for education.
She stood with a cavalier, who also was ready give up on life as well. The wound in his side was not staunched, and his hand gripped tight on it. A fighter and a newly appointed Falcoknight stood before them, their weapons against the enemies. Out of seven, the four of them remained. The Nomadic trooper shot through the wings of the pegasus and aided the Falcoknight in cutting down the unit.
It was not long after the fighter was killed. The Falcoknight sliced his killer down with her slim sword.
The wounded cavalier rode to the front line before the Nomad could stop him, willing to sacrifice himself first before the women. And he died nobly in the pitiful attempt to protect the females.
Blood dripped from the Sacaen's fingers, staining her beautifully carved bow. She laughed and cried at the same time, shooting again, and again.
"Why?" She thought, then said it out loud. "Why? I just wanted to see him.. again.." The Falcoknight was also fighting with tears blurring her eyes.
"Ilia." She said in a mourning, patriotic sort of voice.
The Nomad thought of drawing her sword, but thought against it.
"If I die, it is with a bow in my hands."
The Falcoknight kicked her pegasus into a final flight out of despair, but was taken by a handaxe. The nomad closed her eyes, one hand on her bow, with the other hand over an empty quiver.
"I'm sorry.. Rath."
"Victory!" There were cheers as the soldiers of Araphen saw the last bandit scurry for their escape. Rath raised his eyes and looked at the bloodied battlefield. It was no intended battlefield. The houses of the civilians were splattered with red, the cobblestone path turning brown in the sun. Rath let the boy down from the gray stallion, and a gracious, weeping mother came and embraced the child.
"Thank you, my lord." She said through relieved sobs, her hand on the back of her son's head. Rath said nothing but almost flinched at how she addressed him. Had she not seen he was Sacaen?
Breya approached him and Rath slid his bow into his empty quiver.
"What are the casualties?" He asked, bracing himself for the answer.
"Two of my units fell. Some others are wounded, though few are severe. The sword fighters did well, there were no deaths, but a few major injuries. The archers, the same. But all seven units of the mercenaries were felled. None of them survived when the brigands ran."
"...." Rath turned towards the east.
"However, there were more bandits than we were told. The Marquess will be pleased with the small amount of casualties compared to the numbers." She said tightly. Rath heard no more, and nudged the horse forward through the streets to study the damage done.
The civilians began to come from their shelters, the villagers completely aghast at the result of such a long battle. As things started to clean up, something caught the Captain's eye.
Dismounting, he narrowed his eyes to view a brigand with an arrow embedded in his back.
The arrow had colorful bands around the back and front of its shaft. Colorful even while the wood was seeping with blood. The feather, tattered though it was, was undeniably a hawk's. There were more arrows like this, he noticed, so perfectly aimed at the vulnerable areas of the body.
"Captain!" He heard Breya call. Mounting again, he headed back toward Castle Araphen.
Whoever can tell me who the Nomadic trooper was gets a cookie XD Although it's kind of obvious. I know, you're probably thinking 'how could you turn that into a game?!'.
Sorry for my lateness, I've had a major writer's block ; Hope you continue to read and follow through with the upcoming last chapter!
Becki