Eight
Reis Kadmus had hidden when the Divine Knights came, though it wasn't by choice. Beowulf, after stating that he wouldn't risk losing her twice, ordered her into one of the secret passageways of the Nelveska Temple. So here she crouched, peering through a small hole in the wall, her son sitting quietly on the dust collected floor next to her. She didn't need to tell him to be silent, for he knew what would happen if they were discovered. According to all records, the eleven-year old boy didn't even exist, and the last thing Reis would allow was for him to fall into the church's hands. The Divine Knight in charge had a tight grip on the hilt of his sword, eyes locked onto the ex-temple knight commander. Beowulf simply stood, unarmed and unarmored, with his arms crossed. He stood proud and confident, evident even with his back to Reis. The Divine Knight's moved slowly around him, taking great care with the "heretic".
"Beowulf Kadmus, you have been charged for heresy against the Glabados church, we are ordered to hereby take you into custody until you can be tried for your crimes. If you resist, we will use force." The leader said coldly, a slight smile coming up his face. It seemed obvious that he wanted Beowulf to fight.
Please darling, don't resist them…Reis suddenly understood why their wedding had been secret, as had her existence in general. This wasn't going to end as long as the church existed, and Beowulf had known that. That was why he kept them in the dark, thinking that the love of his life was still a beast on the run. It was for her safety, and their son's.
"I know you…" Beowulf began, uncrossing his arms. "You're Artiax Wodring, aren't you?"
The Divine Knight frowned, sizing up Beowulf again.
"Yes, that is my name. I'm the leader of the Glabados Divine Knights, and I've come to arrest you." He said, but found Beowulf ignored his sentence altogether.
"It is you. The last time I saw you, you were just a young boy. What are you now, sixteen?"
"My age is none of your concern heretic! Surrender or we shall take you by any means!"
As a show of this, one of the Divine Knight's grasped Beowulf's left arm roughly. The Temple Knight's head shot toward the left, giving Reis a glimpse of a focused and burning gaze. Beowulf moved so fast, Reis barely followed it, as he jammed a closed fist into the Divine Knight's face, knocking him sprawling to the ground. He turned to the next, as the one of the other three knights tried to tackle him. The Temple Knight had taken the time to learn extensive hand-to-hand combat from monks in a monastery within Zeltennia, which few people knew. Beowulf grabbed his arm, dragging the knight to the side and throwing his shoulder and head into the ground harshly.
Beowulf was turning when he was struck, Artiax's elbow smashing hard into the older man's head, and knocking him immediately unconscious. Reis winced, and almost called out for her husband. The Divine Knights carried him out, and tended to the wounded men. Reis waited about ten minutes, to be sure that the men were gone, before she stood. She offered her hand to their son, who took it without a word. His eyes were red, cheeks still wet. Even though the boy hadn't seen what happened, he had heard it just fine, and knew what the implications were. Reis stepped out of hiding, pulling her young boy along. His blonde hair was caked with dirt, as surely hers was as well. The boy's dark warm eyes scanned the room, a silent hope residing that his father hadn't been taken. Beowulf had prepared both of them for this, however, and they had always been ready for it.
That didn't mean it hurt any less. Reis walked to the front of the temple, escorting her son outside. There were no guards, and Reis could see which direction they had gone. The prints of several chocobos, four yellow and one red, heading off toward the southeast. She looked to the sky, trying to figure out what to do now. So far, Reis was proud of her ability to stay calm and composed. She'd have time for tears later, right now, her son's safety mattered most.
"Mom, what're we going to do now?" He asked quietly, letting his mother's hand go.
Reis took a breath, mentally working her sentence toward her lips. Ever since her time as a dragon, the woman had a difficult time speaking. She had made great leaps in the past year, but still slurred words often. She had also managed finally to use some of the human tools and weapons that she had once mastered. Between her and Beowulf, their son was learning much about the world and warfare.
"We're going to find you somewhere safe to stay, and then I'm going to get your father back."
"No! Mom, you'll get hurt!" Her son shouted, turning to her, a look of fear on his small face. Reis bent down, scooping the young boy into her arms and hugging him fiercely, hot tears dripping onto her shoulder.
"It'll be fine, Clemence, I promise."
Nine
The journey back to the Imperial Capital took longer than expected, because of Orlandu's condition. They had patched up his wounds a bit at Bethla, but the stress from the trip was weakening him, and Meliadoul could see it easily. Even as they rode through the gates into Lesalia, the man's eyes were drooping. He was tired, and weak from pain and blood loss. Even so, the stubborn old man refused to ride with Meliadoul, so she could watch over him. They got two yellow chocobos from the garrison, and rode them as fast as possible. As the two knights made their way through the city proper, Meliadoul felt the eyes of every person who passed. They probably knew who she was, but seeing her in the kingdom was news. Even more so since perhaps the most powerful knight in the kingdom rode next to her, wounded and exhausted. Neither of them had slept for at least a day. Meliadoul leaned back, letting her left hand fall to the hilt of her Save the Queen, as she looked the city over. Much of it had remained the same since the last time she had walked these streets, over a year ago. The Divine Knight closed her eyes, feeling a heavy weight pass over her face. She let her lids remain down, trusting that the chocobo knew where to go.
When she opened them again, Meliadoul was surprised to find that they had stopped right in front of the front gate to Lesalia castle. She looked over at Orlandu, who was dismounting painfully. Meliadoul hopped down, stretching stiff muscles and making her way slowly toward the gate. She grasped both of the chocobo's reins, pulling them gently behind her. They warked in content, obviously happy to be home. Meliadoul walked them in through the gate, nodding at the guard. He didn't stop her, seeing that Orlandu was walking next to her, but stared nonetheless. The two knights made their way through the courtyard, Meliadoul's brown eyes scanning the grass and trees. It was beautiful, and Meliadoul was impressed with Delita's care for his grounds. The king was doing well for his city, it would appear. Meliadoul rounded a corner, and spotted a group of men practicing swordplay. They carried wooden training swords, smacking them against each other's weapons. She watched them for a minute, before finally seeing Agrias Oaks standing off to the side, watching her soldiers with a slight smile. She was wearing trousers and a dull tunic, both padded for the purpose of sparring. The Holy Knight glanced in their direction, frowned, and began to walk over. She gave Meliadoul the briefest glimpse, before walking up to Orlandu.
"Cid, what happened? Where've you been?"
"It's a long story," Orlandu began, his voice strained. "And I'd love to tell you it, later."
"Of course." Agrias said, nodding. She put two fingers in her mouth, whistled, and motioned for two young squires across the training grounds. They sprinted over, obviously knowing that when a Holy Knight calls, you move. As soon as they arrived, Agrias pointed at Orlandu.
"Help Lord Orlandu to the chemists, and tie up these chocobos."
"Yes Lady Oaks." One of them said with a nod. One boy escorted Orlandu, while the other walked both chocobos off toward the stables. Meliadoul watched them go, a bit put off the fact that her friend had so far completely ignored her. Because of that, she was surprised when, without warning, Agrias wrapped both arms around Meliadoul and hugged her fiercely. Meliadoul was surprised, and it took her a moment to hug her friend back. After a beat, both women released, and Meliadoul swore she saw tears in Agrias' eyes.
"You don't know how relieved I am to see you're safe. I'm very happy to see you." Agrias said with a smile, motioning for Meliadoul to walk with her. Reaching up, the Divine Knight pulled her hood back, letting her matted brown hair fall free.
"I have to say though, I didn't expect you to come here. I didn't even know if I would ever see you again."
"I couldn't hide forever." Meliadoul said, looking away as she walked. "Spending so much time with Ramza should have taught me that…"
Agrias squeezed her shoulder, forcing the younger woman's gaze back. She smiled and stopped.
"It's fine. You're here now, and that's what counts. What made you decide to come back anyway?"
Meliadoul frowned, thinking back to the events of not even a week before. Damien's face was fresh in her mind, as was his smile, and his eyes. Thinking of him made her flush, before she concentrated back on her friend.
"I guess I was forced to realize that when I was running, I was letting everyone else down. I wasn't doing my duty, as my father, or brother, would have wanted."
Agrias turned her head slightly, giving Meliadoul a suspicious look.
"And how were you forced to realize this?"
"Well," Meliadoul began. "I met this knight…"
Ten
Hollow footfalls heard through the empty passageway. Sunlight filtered in as the day worked its way toward night, making dancing flames on the white floor from the colored windows. Some of the windows were open, letting a cool breeze flow through the passageway as the footsteps neared the large room, each sound followed by the swish of moving clothing. Finally reaching the door, a delicate hand wrapped around the handle, and pulled. Inside the room, Orlandu lie on his back, his adopted son sitting in a chair next to the bed. Olan looked over, practically leapt from his chair, and dropped to a knee, his head bowed deeply.
"Olan, please stand." Ovelia said sweetly. "You know you don't have to bow to me. You knew me when I was but a girl, and if anything I should bow to you."
"As far as I'm concerned," Orlandu said with a chuckle. "You're still a girl."
"Even so father, she's still my queen." Olan stood, offering a chair to Ovelia. She accepted it, though she didn't like being treated like this by someone so close. Sitting next to Orlandu, she took one of his calloused hands.
"Uncle, are you all right?" She asked worriedly as Olan stood next to her, crossing his arms.
"Oh I'm fine my girl, just got shot a couple of times."
Ovelia gasped, and Orlandu just laughed quietly.
"Really Ovelia, I'll be just fine, thanks to Meliadoul."
"Meliadoul? She's one of Ramza's old friends too, isn't she?"
Orlandu simply nodded, and Ovelia heard the door to the room open. Glancing back, she saw Delita's aide, Balmafula, enter. She wasn't too fond of the girl, as Delita used her to do all of his running, and he spent a good deal of time with her. Ovelia ignored her presence, turning back to Orlandu.
"I'll have to thank her myself then. Do you know where she is now?"
"The Divine Knight is meeting with the King now. He sent me to see if Orlandu was going to be okay."
"Tell his majesty I'll be fine, but I do need to get some sleep…"
Orlandu hinted toward his weariness, and Ovelia rose. She smiled down at Orlandu, and then turned toward the door. Balmafula opened it for her, bowing her head. Ovelia walked out, and was followed out by both Balmafula and Olan. There all three of them stopped for a moment.
"I'm going to go talk to my husband." Ovelia said, still getting used to calling Delita her husband. Sometimes the thought of it still made her blush. "Could you two make sure nobody disturbs uncle?"
"Of course my lady." Olan said. "I was just going to ask if I could stay here anyway."
Balmafula just nodded once. Ovelia walked away, heading off and around the corner, toward the inner areas of the castle. Olan watched her go, leaning against the wall next to Orlandu's chambers door. He glanced over at Balmafula, who stood with her arms crossed. She wore an elaborate cloak that the King had given her for being in his service. Olan was dressed in similar garb, expensive and very stylish in his opinion. His hair was still in the same style as it had been for years, a loose ponytail falling to his neck, the way he liked it.
"It feels strange…" Balmafula said suddenly.
"What does?" Olan asked with a frown, glancing over at her.
"Being on the other side of the battle. I spent my whole life working for the Glabados Church, and now I find myself under the command of the King of Ivalice, and directly against them."
"Everything changes when you read the Germonik Scriptures, I know." Olan said, nodding. The scriptures were discovered in the search for Ramza, by Balmafula, no less. Up until then, she hadn't really believed all that had been told to her. After reading the parchment, however, she had the entire story thrust upon her. After that she became the King's aide, and worked alongside Olan in their duties. She had been good company, and Olan enjoyed being around her a good deal. It had been her that joined Olan at Alma Beoulve's funeral, though she wouldn't admit to seeing what Olan knew she saw. It was them, Olan knew. Somewhere, Ramza and Alma were alive and hiding. Hopefully, they were finally at peace.
Eleven
Meliadoul bowed before the King, and he motioned that she and Agrias stand. Neither women had changed, because they hadn't had time. The King's aide had met them outside, about a minute after Meliadoul had finished telling her friend about Damien and the events in Bervenia. The king had wanted to see them both as soon as possible. The women left immediately, meeting Delita in his throne room.
"Meliadoul Tingel, I've never met you, but I know Ramza put his faith into you. I also knew your father, and your brother Izlude. I'm sorry about what happened to both of them."
"The church's fault, not yours."
"Still, I would have liked to have Izlude here now."
Meliadoul was confused, and the look on her and Agrias' face made this evident to Delita. He smiled slightly, standing from his throne and beginning to pace. A long cape followed behind him as he walked.
"A loyal man, young as he was. His downfall was not knowing the church's true intentions, or I'm sure he would have chosen to go against them, as you did. Perhaps even join with Ramza as well." Delita turned to Meliadoul, smiling. "I met him when I was busy getting into the workings of the Glabados Church, to double cross them. We talked for a while and became friends as long as I was there. He was so loyal to the church, and mostly to Vormav, that there was no way I could tell him the truth about the war. Not without him betraying me to the Lucavi."
"You and my brother were… friends?" Meliadoul asked, wondering why Izlude had never mentioned this.
"Yes, and I really do wish he had survived the war. I would have liked to have him here. It's my hope that I can rely on you as I'm sure I could rely on your brother."
"As long as your cause remains the same, you can. I came here to take down the church, just as Agrias did."
Delita nodded. Walking toward a table near them. He scooped up a wrapped package that rested on the wooden tabletop, and carried it over to Meliadoul. He held it to Agrias, who took it and turned to Meliadoul.
"Open it." She said bluntly. Meliadoul did, the colors blue and gold becoming visible beneath the cloth. Meliadoul pulled the robe free, noticing immediately that it was the exact replica of her current robe, except for the color change. A change she silently liked. Also inside of the package was a scabbard, the same color. It was empty, obviously meant for her sword.
"This is for you. The colors of Ivalice, should you choose to wear them." Meliadoul glanced up at the king, puzzled.
"Why then, do you wear red as apposed to blue? Those are the colors of Glabados."
"Those are the colors of royalty. The church stole them to make people more comfortable with the change they're trying to force. I'll not give up my colors for their benefit."
As soon as the sentence was finished, the door to the throne room slid open, and all eyes turned to the door. Queen Ovelia entered quickly, her dress a similar shade as that of her husbands. Meliadoul and Agrias dropped to a knee as one, and the queen was to them in a moment.
"Please stand, both of you."
They did, noticing that Ovelia was smiling at both women, and glancing at her husband.
"It's good to see you Agrias. I feel like you're too often off in the field these days." Ovelia said to her once personal bodyguard. Now she had dozens, stationed throughout the castle.
"You know my queen, any time you need me, I'll drop everything to serve you."
"Thank you Agrias, I know." She said, turning to Meliadoul.
"You're Meliadoul Tingel, right?" Ovelia asked.
"Yes my queen."
Ovelia practically beamed, and then did something that took everybody in the room save Agrias by surprise. Just as Agrias had, Ovelia hugged her. Meliadoul was too shocked to do anything but blink, as Agrias began to laugh quietly. It wasn't something that the leader of a country was known to do, but Ovelia obviously didn't care about being proper in that aspect.
"I never had the privilege of meeting you, but Agrias has told me plenty. I want to personally thank you for helping uncle at Bethla."
She let Meliadoul go, stepping back with a smile still visible. Uncle meant Orlandu; though Meliadoul had no idea they were of any relation. She didn't think much on it.
"You're welcome in my kingdom as long as you wish to stay." Ovelia said with a great deal of enthusiasm.
"And here I thought it was my kingdom." King Delita said with a smirk. Ovelia made a face at him, making Meliadoul finally realize what was so different about her. She was so young, so vibrant, that was obvious. What really made her seem so off as the queen, was that the girl was so good at heart. So nice and sweet, even in the few minutes Meliadoul had known her. It was hard to believe that anybody could ever be her enemy. The queen walked up to Delita, hugging him for a second before turning back to the two knights.
"Agrias, do you think you could give Meliadoul a room so she can sleep comfortably tonight? You can kick out some of the King's guests if you wish. This is top priority."
Delita rolled his eyes, and Agrias couldn't keep from laughing a bit. There were plenty of empty rooms in the castle.
"Of course Ovelia. I'll do it right now."
"Thank you. We're having dinner in a couple of hours, as you know Agrias, you're both welcome to eat with us. I'm going to drag uncle along so that he can tell us just what he was doing to get himself injured. For now, see to it that Meliadoul finds herself at home."
"Of course my queen." Agrias said. The knights bowed, before turning and walking out of the throne room. As soon as the door was closed behind them, Meliadoul let out a sigh.
"Is she always like that?"
"You mean so energetic?"
"Yes, it took me completely by surprise."
"It takes some getting used to. She never used to quite like that. Of course, she's never been this happy before. Even though Delita's done some very dishonest and unforgivable things, he makes the queen happy. For that, I have respect for him. Now, let's find you a room!"
Twelve
For a week, Beowulf had been locked in a cell, fed small rations and ridiculed by the guards. Men that, once upon a time, he had trusted and led into battle. The Temple Knight stared up at the ceiling of his new home, as he had for the past seven days, or eight, he couldn't be sure anymore. This long, and nobody had come to say a word to him. Just kept him locked up, letting the once proud knight rot in a cell. Beowulf was happy, however, that his wife and son had gotten away. If the church had gotten their hands on the boy, the war would have gotten a lot more complicated. So for that, Beowulf thanked God, though he wasn't sure if God listened. The man knew what his fate would be, as did any man branded a heretic. He would be executed, but only after they had tried to get as much information out of him as humanly possible about the others. They wouldn't get anything.
A loud clank nearby drew Beowulf's attention. He glanced over to see the cell door open, and two Temple Knights standing in front of it.
"The High Priest wants to see you."
Beowulf rose without a word, following the two Temple Knights out of the dungeon and up into the castle itself. He wasn't sure just what castle, since he had been unconscious throughout almost the whole trip back. Logic would dictate that he had been taken to Zeltennia, since it was so close to the place where they had found him. Beowulf honestly hadn't expected the church to search the Nelveska Temple. Apparently somebody told them of its significance to his wife. As they walked into the first actual hallway, Beowulf noticed that it was in fact Zeltennia. The knights escorted him toward the main hall wordlessly; each man shooting nervous glances back and forth. They surely knew who he was, and both man were worried about the current predicament. No soldier wanted to know that his or her commander was a heretic, a godless monster who sought to destroy the world. If only they knew.
One Knight shoved the door open, as the other man escorted Beowulf inside. He walked proudly, not about to show that he had been beaten by merely a week alone. He'd been through worse in his life than the church could ever throw at him. Even as confident as he had made himself, he wasn't prepared to see the man he hated most in the world standing in front of him, and felt his strength give a bit. It came right back, however, as he ran at the man, only to be caught by two Divine Knights. They stood in front of him, hands on his arms to stay his charge. After a moment Beowulf gave up fighting.
"Buremonda, what the hell are you doing here?"
The man just laughed, adjusting the thick robe that covered his body.
"Haven't you heard Kadmus? I'm the High Priest now. I believe a little respect is due."
"Respect? You earned yourself a place in hell when you betrayed Reis. She trusted you!"
"That may be," He said angrily. "But she loved you. It's not my fault she decided to take the curse that was meant for you. It's a pity you never found her to thank her, isn't it?"
Beowulf almost shouted back, until he realized the danger that would put Reis in. Instead, the man put the most depressed look he could fake onto his face, and hung his shoulders low. Buremonda practically beamed with joy at the pain his enemy was in.
He really doesn't know I saved her…Beowulf felt better, knowing that the church wouldn't even bother looking for the woman.
"Good, because it's time for you to move on my friend. You need a job, and I have an opening."
"What are you talking about?" Beowulf asked, incredulous that the man would even dream that he had anything to offer.
"Once again you will lead the Glabados Temple Knights into battle. For the glory of God and Saint Ajora, you will destroy the king and his armies."
Beowulf laughed hysterically, stepping back from the Divine Knights.
"You're out of your mind if you think I'll fight for you, or for the devil Ajora."
"You spread blasphemy right here, in front of the High Priest?"
"You're damn right, come down here and I'll show you what we heretics are capable of doing."
It was Buremonda's turn to laugh, as he motioned to a Temple Knight. The knight left the room, as Buremonda rose from his large chair, making his way down toward Beowulf.
"I'm afraid you're going to help the church, whether you like it or not." He began, as the Temple Knight walked back in. "For, you see, if you do not…"
Buremonda pointed at the door, directing Beowulf's gaze to it. In walked a man and a woman; both dressed in black and red, with another person between them. It was a woman, which was obvious from the shape of the body and the length of the brown hair that spilled out over her hanging head. She was dressed in all white, billowy trousers and a torn shirt. It wasn't until the woman in black raised the girl's head that Beowulf realized who it was.
"Rafa!" The two assassins let her fall, the girl's body landing harshly onto the floor. Beowulf rushed to her side, rolling Rafa onto her back and looking into her face. She was alive, but wasn't awake. Her face was bruised, as was surely a good portion of her covered body. Her shirt and pants were ripped, showing that she had struggled when she was taken. A nasty looking cut was above her left eye, which had stopped bleeding at least a day before. Which meant she'd been imprisoned for at least a day without any care for her wounds. Beowulf slowly felt his rage building, knowing the corner they were putting him in.
"You see Kadmus, if you don't comply, not only will we kill you, but this poor girl will die too. You know what happens to heretics, even women."
Beowulf cradled the woman's head, looking her over for any serious wounds.
"If you join us, we'll give her the medical attention she needs, and a comfortable place to sleep. Otherwise, she won't be waking up."
Beowulf closed his eyes, biting down on his rage as much as possible. He'd never felt so much hate, so much anger, as he did right now. Not even when Buremonda had cursed his love. The things they were asking him, they were horrible. They wanted him to go against his own friends and king, and kill good, wholesome people. But holding one of those friends in his arms, feeling her body shake from the shock of a vicious beating, he had no choice.
"I'll do it."