A/N: Sorry this took so long. I couldn't stop editing... and even now I'm still not happy with it. But I was tired of it hanging over my head so I decided to just get it over with and post it.
Thank you so much to everyone who sent me notes and reviews!
Disclaimer: Don't own Suikoden 3, never have and never will. Not making any money off of it, either.
Chapter Seven
My brother was three and a half years older than I, nearly to the day.
When he began to train with other Harmonian boys his age, he would come galloping home, excitement in his eyes and laughter on his lips, eager to tell me what he had learned, what he had done. And then, because he was kind and eager and energetic, he would teach me, all the while pretending that he was the gruff commander and I was the ten year-old boy in much need of practice.
He would strut around our yard, hands behind his back, a juvenile parody of the men who taught him the magic of bows and arrows, daggers and swords, shields and spears.
And I listened.
And I learned.
And I became just as talented as he.
And then our father saw, and he learned that his daughter was not was she seemed... and he was proud. So very proud.
My most cherished times were these. Of days of dappled sunlight on auburn hair, of glittering mirth in his blue eyes. Days filled with work and sweat, but days that were so rewarding, so alive, I thought I would burst with happiness.
And they were shattered by war, a black bloody game of life and death.
My brother never lost a game.
But he lost that one.
Chris glared defiantly at the hooded form above her, silently challenging it.
"It's no use pretending that you have strength left, you wretched girl." Chris tightly gripped her dagger in anger and disbelief. 'How...?' "Get up."
Chris glanced around her, fishing for time and with it, a plan.
"I said Get. Up."
"I... can't." Chris was fairly sure she could, if she tried... but the shadow woman didn't need to know that.
With a sudden wrench of her hand, the cloaked woman grasped the other's shirt collar and forcefully jerked her forwards so that she was sitting. Chris' dagger dropped off the edge of the bed and landed on the floor with a dull thump. "I will drag you, if I have to. Get on your feet." Chris glanced wildly at her abandoned weapon. How could she have released it? The cloaked form yanked Chris toward her for emphasis. "I said –" Chris looked up at her assailant with steely eyes. And that was when it hit hit her.
The bow.
The quiver.
The white-fletched arrows.
A shadow figure, one that seemed to know far too much.
"You!" Chris struggled back. "It was you!"
"Your point?" Anna replied icily. "I told you. Get Up. These are no games I am playing." With another forceful pull, Chris was on her feet, and found it disturbingly easy to pretend to be incapable of holding herself up. She slumped sideways towards the wall, and as Anna, with a muttered curse, stepped to intercept the fall, Chris straightened, years of training for knighthood giving her the strength she needed. Putting all of her remaining force into a fierce punch, Chris counted on catching the stranger unawares.
But the blow was stopped, only centimeters from Anna's nose.
"You stupid girl." Anna whipped out her dagger and, before Chris even had time to think, smacked the side of her head with the heavy pommel. Chris crashed to the floor, unconscious, hitting the wall with her elbow as she fell.
Anna bent and slung the unconscious woman over her shoulder. She headed quickly for the exit, and fumbled with the lock for a second, before swinging it open and hooking her foot around the door in order to close it behind her.
She was relieved, as the common rooms of the Dancing Dragon Inn were dark and empty on the late Wednesday night. Anna scurried as quickly as she could through to the back door, Chris still limp over her shoulder, across the back courtyard, and into the stable.
"Boy!" There was a rustling, clanging and soft "Ouch!" before the little stableboy hurried up to her. "Get me the white mare."
"But, m'am-"
Anna paused, and changed tactics. "I need the mare, dear child, to take my dear cousin home." The boy looked up at her, questions written on his freckled face. "She's sick, you know, and we must get home SO very badly. You must understand!" Anna threaded as much warmth into her voice as she could muster. "Please understand, child. Could you please fetch me the mare? It's my dear cousin's horse, after all."
His eyes suddenly shone. "Really?" He grinned. "I was so curious about th-"
"NOW, dear."
"Oh... umm... yes, ma'm." He turned quickly, and scurried into the depths of the stables, glancing just once over his shoulder at the strange, hooded woman and her 'dear' unconscious cousin, a small frown on his freckled brow.
Borus woke with a start.
He was sure he had heard something, a soft thump that had wakened him from his sleep. Whatever the sound had been, it did not reoccur, and a still silence smothered the room.
But with each second that passed, with each breath that he held in the thick stillness of his room, he was more and more positive that it had come from the room next to his. Chris' room.
Perhaps he should check. Make sure she was alright.
He rolled groggily out of bed, and stumbled about in search of clean clothes before heading quickly out the door.
He stopped in front of the door to Chris' room, and listened. Silence reigned. "Chr- Ria? Are you there? Can you hear me?" He called softly through the wooden barrier. "Hello?" Was he just being paranoid?
He knocked lightly on the door, and was surprised to see that it shifted under the slight pressure. It was open. The innkeeper's wife would -never- have left it that way.
He pushed open the door, hand on sword hilt. "Ria? Are you here?" His eyes widened in horror as he took in the scene before him.
The bed was empty, the blankets spilling off one edge and pooling on the floor.
Chris' dagger, the one he had placed under her pillow incase of emergencies, was lying abandoned on the floor, glittering coldly in the feeble moonlight.
Voices in the courtyard. A horse's hooves on cobblestone.
He dashed to the window just in time to see Chris' fine white mare, like a ghost in the night, take off down the alley with two figures on its back. And one was slumped, unconscious, thrown like a bag of potatoes over the saddle.
"Chris!" He whispered, his anger sparked and flaring to life. He bolted out of the room, swearing loudly and vehemently, and continued to do so until he had charged right out into the middle of the street and could only hear hoof beats through the darkness before they faded to a halt. He momentarily considered running in the direction that they seemed to have gone but quickly decided that traveling on horseback would be the better choice.
He ran straight back to the stables and banged on the open doors until the little stable hand came running. "Get me my horse, boy. NOW!" The horses shifted nervously at the thunderous intrusion, and the stable boy gave him a slightly fearful glance before muttering "Yessir!" and dashing off to fetch the knight's horse.
This couldn't have, shouldn't have, happened. This was one of the reasons why he had a room beside hers. He paced back and forth, bitter anger and guilt fueling him on.
"Sir?" The boy approached him timidly, the horse's reins in his skinny hands.
Borus whirled around, and gruffly snatched the reins from the boy. "Who was that, the person who just rode away? Why were they here? Why did she take Chr- Ria?"
"I've seen her before, sir... but she was snooping about tonight, sir, and I dunno why sir, she said she was Ria's cousin, sir, but I dun believe her, sir, she acts all nice at one moment, sir, but then's horrible the next, sir. Ria was sick, she said, and they were going home, sir."
"HOME?"
"Yes, sir, home, sir. That's what she said." The boy kicked his foot in the dust, and nervously kept his eyes on his scruffy boots.
"Well, she was LYING. Ria doesn't have any cousins that I know of that are out to ki-"
"Meybee, by home, sir, she meant her temporary home? Like an Inn, sir? I know of many people that call this place home, sir, after they stay here for a bit, sir, when they's away from home, sir."
Borus nodded as he hurriedly got into the saddle. He hesitated, and then quietly stated, "Thank you, boy," before escaping from the Inn's courtyard.
Anna hurriedly dismounted, dragging Chris down with her, and booted the white mare towards what appeared to be a half-asleep stable hand. Chris was showing signs of awakening soon, and Anna wanted the situation under her control when she did.
The spidery old innkeeper gawked as she entered his establishment, half dragging, half carrying an unconscious woman. He immediately stumbled out from behind his small desk and assisted Anna in bringing Chris upstairs. "She's my cousin and she's rather unwell at the moment." Anna offered as her only explanation as they trudged up the wooden stairwell. When they reached room 17, Anna halted. She dug around purposefully in her purse before pulling out a considerable amount of potch. She looked him straight in the eye. "We were never here." The spindly innkeeper looked rather astonished as she poured the money into his bony hands but after a moment's hesitation, nodded slightly and placed the potch in his pocket before trundling back down the stairs.
Anna unlocked her room and slid inside, dragging Chris behind her. She shut the door quietly after her and immediately began preparations.
Borus almost laughed at how hopeless this seemed. Here he was galloping down the road in the middle of the night, chasing after a shadow who had stolen Chrisand Chris' horse. And to top it all off, he was heading in the direction they had just been running from a few nights before.
Wait.
Borus slowed his frantic pace. 'This is where we were on Sunday when...' He halted completely, then wheeled his horse in a tight circle. The closed windows of houses and storefronts glared at him vacantly through darkened panes, while a feeble light beamed through the glass of a small inn. "The Knight and Squire" was written in peeling red paint above the door.
"Meybee, by home, sir, she meant her temporary home? Like an Inn, sir?"
An Inn.
The Knight and Squire.
Could this be it?
A stable hand seemed to be sleeping in a pile of hay beside the building. Borus dismounted and nudged the teenager with his boot. With a startled, high-pitched yelp, the boy jumped upright, almost colliding with the knight on the way. With barely a pause, the teen began to ramble, "Welcerm' to the Knight n'Squire, Sir, how can I help 'ee? Yer horse needs stablin'? Lemme get tha'!" All Borus did was nod, and the lanky teen was leading his mount gently away.
Borus shrugged, then headed straight for the Inn's front entrance.
The thick wooden door opened with a squeal of hinges. Borus strode purposefully inside and immediately confronted the bony old innkeeper. "I am looking for two women, sir, one possibly cloaked and hooded, the other has dark hair, blue eyes... she may or may not have been 'sleeping' or 'sick.' The former may have been since Sunday, possibly earlier, and she may have said that she and the other woman were cousins or otherwise related..."
The innkeeper paused, his thin eyebrows raised in silent question.
Borus sighed in exasperation. "Answer the question. WERE they or WEREN'T they here?"
"I..."
Borus glared.
"I-I-I... dunno sir." He took a shaky breath. "...M- may have... May not ha-"
"MAY have!"
"Your descr-"
He pounded his fist on the desk. Enough of this rambling. "Look, sir. I appreciate that you are protecting your patrons, and at any other time, I MIGHT have been impressed. But today I AM NOT!" His voice became increasingly louder as his anger grew. "One is a very dangerous woman, who has tried to KILL the other on an occasion just days back. Now you WILL TELL me if they came here, or I WILL get drastic." He placed his hand on his sword hilt, daring the innkeeper to refuse him.
The old man regarded him with wide, nervous eyes, before stuttering. "I- I- Th- They aren't h-h-here!" His long, thin fingers fluttered through the records and twiddled a pencil as he switched his wide-eyed gaze to fall just over the young knight's right shoulder. "P-p-perhaps they went down the road? T-t-to the f-f-Fox and Pheasant?"
Borus raised a blonde eyebrow.
"I-i-in fact, I-I-I'm sure I saw them go past... they were g-galloping, I th-think. Awful rush."
Borus glared. There was no time to be wasted. 'But if this man tells the truth, I cannot rightfully assault him in any way. But he stutters and flutters and does not meet my gaze. Perhaps I just make him nervous. Perhaps he is hiding something from me. But if he said that they galloped by... and if this Inn is not too far off, then how can I judge him to be a liar? Perhaps, if I hurry...' "Where is it?"
"J- j- j- just around the first corner, on the left, sir, thataway," He gestured with his hand in the opposite direction from The Dancing Dragon. "Y-you can't miss it. The Fox and Pheasant."
Borus narrowed his eyes, but turned and rushed out the door and began running towards the next Inn.
No time to lose.
"...Have you seen, by chance, two women... one perhaps 'sleeping' or 'sick,' the other possibly saying they were cousins? The one may or may not have been staying in your establishment since Sunday, perhaps earlier... They would have been in a great rush, coming in not too long ago..."
The innkeeper of The Fox and Pheasant stared blankly back at Borus. "Hmmm... not that I recall, sir, and I have been sitting here all day. You say that one may have been sick?" He shook his head. "It would have stuck with me, sir. They have not come by."
That settled it.
The stuttering. The glances. The fidgeting. The indecisive 'I don't know's...
She was there.
The Knight and Squire.
And he was hiding it.
He was far too lost in thought to thank the innkeeper as he turned on his heel and bolted back to The Knight and Squire.
No time to lose.
"They're HERE, and you know it, old man!" Borus yelled, fury and fire in his viens, as he pounded through the doorway. If he was too late... If this woman... killed Chris...
If he had been seconds faster, moments quicker...
If he had realized sooner...
If he had seen through an old man's charades...
If he had protected her from that arrow...
If he had stopped her from leaving...
If there were...
If he was...
If...
If he could never tell her...
"TELL me where they are! I know they're here! You don't understand the SEVERITY of this situation! Her DEATH would be on YOUR shoulders, old man!" The innkeeper didn't fail to notice the knight's hand stray dangerously close to the hilt of a finely-made dagger.
"Th-th-ther're-"
Borus loosened the dagger in its sheath.
"Th-they're here." The innkeeper blurted. He would rather face the wrath of his guest than the fury that burned in this man's eyes. "Room 17."
Borus stuck out his hand. "Keys." It was not a question, and the innkeeper meekly placed the requested item in the knight's palm. Borus nodded in form of thanks and swiftly disappeared up the stairs.
Anna knew it was inevitable.
The knight would figure everything out sooner or later.
She had been counting on later.
Late enough that everything would be complete.
A seal in blood, and a rune in hand.
But she had been counting on later.
And as she heard the thunderous crash of the Inn's front door, she knew that her time was trickling quickly through her clenched fingers.
No time left to plan, to think, to arrange everything just so.
No time.
The captain could not be killed yet. It wasn't time, No Time, the rune's new bearer would not be guaranteed, the guarantee was vital, a fickle rune could flee, No Time, the Seal, the Dagger, the Rune, the Man, No Time, furious footfalls, closer, closer, closer, closer, No Time, water, blood, water, time, No Time, an unconscious woman, a chair, swimming to the surface, No Time.
No escape.
A key in the lock.
No time.
Metallic ring of a dagger unsheathed.
No time.
The door crashed in on its hinges.
Time.
"Any sudden move, and you know EXACTLY what will happen." Anna had Chris' head pulled back, a dagger to her throat. Borus could only stare in horror. "Drop your weapons, sir."
Borus glared viciously, but dropped his sword with a hollow thunk on the wooden floor boards.
What other choice did he have?
