Author's Corner:
Not much to say this time, but I feel the need to apologize for the previous chapter. As was noted, the last part of the chapter was rushed (a bit), as I really don't like to write about large, grandiose fights over a meaningless plotline. (For example, it seems that in FE7 that every time someone joins, you must fight some sort of grandiose battle in order to recruit his or her services.) I hate writing those chapters because it's just a brawl with nothing to support it. Pardon me for my stubbornness.
Hammer of Terrascars – Chapter 4
Bloodline
March 31st, within the gates of Araphen,
Araphen, second largest city in Lycia behind Osita, is home to as diverse a crowd as the myriad merchants who populate the streets. According to Etrurian military accounts, it possesses enough problems to rival that diversity as well. Though boasting of considerable population size, Araphen is also infamous for its poor security and military capabilities. The reigning marquises have frequently sought the services of mercenaries to fill the ranks of the Araphen Guard, a testimony to the strength of the native force. It is rumored that the various marquises of Araphen prefer to line their purses with gold than spending their taxes properly training/equipping the city's defenses. As bandits plague Araphen considerably more than the average Lycian state, I wonder how safe we are in light of the recent skirmishes we have undergone.
"What a magnificent city," Lyn exclaimed as she gazed upon Araphen's looming walls. The group of travelers made their way beneath the high arches that guarded Araphen's formidable gates.
"Araphen, second largest city in all of Lycia," Sain replied, "Filled with shops of all sorts, more markets than you'd imagine possible, and, of course, bountiful taverns with beautiful young ladies."
"We didn't need to know about that," Lyn muttered.
"By the way," Wil remarked gazing around, "Where did Sir Kent go?"
"I believe he was headed towards the castle," Drake commented, "Said he would be procuring the aid of the marquis for our endeavor. How he will succeed in this is currently beyond me."
"Speaking of Kent," Sain interrupted while pointing down the road, "There he is!"
Checking his horse's pace before Lyn, Kent dismounted, "Milady, let us make haste to the castle. The marquis agreed to aid our cause and has prepared supplies for us."
"Really?" Lyn replied, "That is fortunate."
"Araphen and Caelin have enjoyed close ties with one another in the past," Kent explained, "Once the marquis understood our situation, he was quick to extend a helping hand."
"In that case, let us head towards the castle at once."
As the group slowly made their way through the crowded streets of Araphen, Drake couldn't help but listen to the various rumors surrounding the city.
"What do you think about Lord Torson's claim to the throne?"
"Fool he is," a drunk slurred, "Only way to the throne for him is by the sword."
"He doesn't have the forces to pull off a coup," a drinking buddy agreed.
"But didn't he threaten that he'd return with outside help?" A pipe-smoking old man wondered out loud.
"Empty threats," someone else droned, "Why, if I were him…"
"MATTHEW!" A shrill cry of joy caused everyone along the street to turn his or her eyes, scarcely in time to see a pink-haired cleric flatten a young man with a bone-crushing hug.
"S-Serra!" The young man, whom everyone assumed to be Matthew, stammered nervously, "What are you doing here?"
"You're Matthew?" A purple haired mage behind Serra spoke, "I'm Erk and the appointed escort," here he grimaced, "Of this pink haired menace to all life," he muttered in an undertone.
"Hm? Erky, did you say something?" Serra craned her head and leveled him with a look.
"Err… No, I didn't," Erk lied, "I was just commenting about the contract that Matthew's agent and I had agreed to."
"What about it?" Matthew asked as he gingerly got back to his feet with Serra still clinging on to his neck like a leech.
"He mentioned escorting a frail Lycian priestess to Ostia," Erk said slowly.
"And what of it?" Serra asked detaching from Matthew, who was rubbing his neck
"She," Erk stated flatly, "Is nothing remotely close to frail."
From what we've just seen, Lyn and Drake exchanged a look; I'd be forced to agree with that comment.
"And furthermore," Erk continued, "Since I've met with my contractor, I can safely hand her over to you," Erk grinned while Matthew groaned with despair, "And continue on my way."
"Uh, how about not?" Matthew ventured, "The contract did say escort her to Ostia, did it not?"
Erk's face fell, "Look, I'll return your money if I have to, can you just take her?"
From Matthew's thoughtful expression, it could be readily assumed he was weighing the profit margin versus dealing with Serra for a leg of the journey. Then he remembered Serra's embrace and shuddered violently.
"I think not!"
"Eh?" Matthew and Matthew both turned to see an enraged Serra glaring at them.
"You are MY escort, Erk!" Serra said softly in a dangerous tone, "A noblewoman such as myself simply CANNOT be seen in public without a handsome, tidy escort at her side! Though," here she looked thoughtful, "I wouldn't mind having two escorts easy on the eyes… So Matthew, you're coming too."
Matthew and Erk flinched before what she said sank in. After a pregnant pause, they stared at one another in horror before pointing fingers at each other, "This is so your fault!"
At this point, there were so many bystanders watching the live drama before them that traffic was just a little bit too congested along the narrow street.
"Alright you midgets," a tall mercenary interrupted impatiently behind them, "Surely you can take your dispute into a tavern of some sort. You're holding up traffic."
"Quiet!" Serra admonished, "I'm busy here!"
Stunned at the vivacity of the cleric, the mercenary gaped for a brief second before cursing and drawing his sword. He was about to split the girl in two when someone caught his arm from the side.
"Shame on you sir," Sain barked, "For drawing a blade upon a lady!"
Lyn raised an eyebrow and mentally reminded herself to gag Sain in any public appearance. Wil was reduced to a coughing fit as he tried to contain his laughter in vain while Florina merely blinked in confusion. Kent and Drake smacked themselves on the forehead, "Here we go again."
The mercenary looked at Sain, "Who the hell are you?"
"Me?" Sain said with a flourish, "I am…"
"Save it, Sain," Lyn growled, "I'm in no mood to hear that speech again."
"Why of course," Sain replied, "Milady Lyndis…"
Drake's head snapped up at Sain's words. Idiotic buffoon, he groaned inwardly, why couldn't he have just cut out his tongue and fed it to himself! It is too early for Lycia to know of Lyn's identity!
The mercenary did not miss the name either, though he did a tolerable job masking it. His sole reaction was briefly widening his eyes, but even such a small motion cannot escape those familiar with observing minute details such as Lyn, Drake or Matthew. Smirking slightly, the mercenary and his cronies surrounded Lyn and her companions. Sensing an imminent explosion of violence, the bystanders and merchants scattered from the streets, barricading themselves within their little homes.
"That's torn it," Drake muttered. Saint Elimine knows how many people know of your presence now, Lyn.
"Nice going Sain," Lyn remarked.
Sain seemed to wilt, albeit a tiny fraction, "Milady knows I meant no harm. I had forgotten that Lycia is slightly different than where we came from."
"No use crying over spilt milk," Wil said while drawing his bow, "I do believe these people mean to do us harm." He jerked his thumb at the mercenaries.
"What is going on here?"
Friend and foe alike turned to look at the rider who directed his steed easily along the street towards them. Clad in the unmistakable colors of a Sacaen nomad, the warrior reined in his fiery steed before glaring coldly at the assembled group before him. Although there were no particular emblems upon his horse, the rider had the seal of Araphen emblazoned over his left chest.
"Captain of the Araphen Guard," Kent muttered softly.
"What did you say?" Lyn asked.
"Captain of the Guard," Drake explained, "The majority of Lycian states distinguish between soldiers and ranking officers by the location of their territorial seals. If the sigil is inscribed on the soldier's right, then he is a rank and file footman. If the sigil is inscribed on the left, then it is usually an officer. Given that Araphen is famous for its lack of military personnel, I'd wager they only have one officer in the entire outfit: Captain of the Araphen Guard."
"…" The nomad remained silent, though a barely perceptible nod confirmed that their words were true. Roving his eyes over the two parties before him, his gaze stopped upon Lyn.
"Captain, eh?" The mercenary called out, "You there, by order of the marquis, Lyndis is to be slain immediately!"
Despite the shock written upon the faces of Lyn and her companions, the nomad turned calmly and fixated the mercenary with a glare, "I received no such order from the marquis. Who are you to order me?"
The man sneered, "Your marquis will soon be replaced by Lord Torson, the rightful lord of all Araphen! I'd suggest you curry some favor by bringing him the head of this Caelin upstart."
"I had come intending to give aid to a Sacaen tribeswoman, but it appears I've been mistaken," the nomad replied nonchalantly.
"No, you're right," Lyn exclaimed, "I am Lyn, of the Lorca."
"Lorca? There were survivors?" The nomad studied Lyn in disbelief.
"What I say is the truth, I swear by this sword," Lyn said boldly, hefting the Mani Katti before her.
Any true Sacaen would recognize the sacred sword of the plains instantly, and the captain was no exception.
"I see, I believe you," he replied, "I am Rath of the Kutolah. Well met, Lyn of the Lorca. Those that belong to the plains fight alongside one another."
"A thousand blessings upon you for aiding us," Lyn called out in the time-honored Sacaen bond of comradeship.
"And a thousand curses upon our enemies," Rath responded in turn.
"So you will not aid us?" The mercenary spat venomously, "Then we shall slay you as well! At them boys!"
"Oh, a fight, a fight!" Serra exclaimed happily.
For a cleric of St. Elimine, Drake noted, this one sure is a belligerent one. Mental note to self, never cross her path in a negative fashion.
"Hmph," Serra grumbled, placing her hands on her hips, "Twenty odd mercenaries picking on a lady and half a dozen escorts is hardly what I call fair. As a noblewoman myself, I simply cannot stand for such a rude welcome for someone of similar rank. Matthew, Erk, as part of my entourage, you shall assist me in aiding this young lady."
"What?" Erk said worriedly, "I already discharged my duties by handing you to Matthew!"
"Trying to wiggle out of this, eh?" Matthew said while grabbing Erk's collar, "You're coming with us until you see Serra to Ostia. Which means obeying her orders to without question." What luck, Matthew smirked inwardly, I was originally sent by Lord Uther to ascertain the existence of Caelin's heir, and lo and behold I run into that person in Araphen! If I play my hand correctly, Ostia will have a new ally and I'll earn myself a raise! Not to mention any treasures on the way as well…
Serra beamed like a cat that got the cream while Erk groaned in utter despair.
"Damn," the mercenary bit out, "You and you, go inform Lord Torson about this, I'll deal with these brats. Be sure to bar the gates as well." Two of the mercenary's party took off for the castle while the remaining soldiers drew their weapons and approached Lyn's group.
"They outnumber us," Drake said quietly, "Form a line across the street. This way a numerically inferior force can hold back a larger party by dealing with an even number of foes at separate instances instead of the entire enemy in one gulp."
Sain and Kent readied their lances and moved their mounts to either side of Lyn. Matthew finished the line by placing himself on Kent's left while everyone else gathered behind them. "Shall we get this show started now, curs?" Sain called out scornfully.
Stung by the challenge, the mercenary force charged forward like a swarm of angry bees. However, as Drake had guessed, the narrow street allowed only five to six enemies to engage Lyn's forces at one time. In a one-on-one confrontation, Lyn, Kent, Sain, and Matthew could easily hold their own against the mediocre skill level of their opponents. Adding Rath, Wil, and Erk's range support from the second rank easily tipped the scales of the skirmish in their favor.
"Too easy," Drake muttered, "Florina, take to the skies and see if anyone is coming around to ambush us from behind. Be wary of any archers!"
"O-OK," she stammered, keeping her eyes trimmed on the ground while mounting her pegasus.
After half a candle mark of vicious hand-to-hand combat, the mercenary force fled for the castle, leaving half a dozen of their one-time comrades, including their leader, lying cold in the dust. Mercenary forces across Elibe, with the notable exception of Ilia's disciplined air fleet, tended to function somewhat akin to bandit forces in a pitched battle. Though operating with a higher degree of skill and equipped with superior weapons than their brigand counterparts, mercenary divisions were infamous for having the strongest soldier of fortune lead a ragged band of sword brothers. Naturally, when the said strongest fighter falls in combat, the remainder easily lose heart and often retreat to lick their wounds while electing a new leader. The Ilian mercenary force was a rare exception, providing highly skilled fighters who were loyal to a fault towards their employers. Unfortunately for any would-be buyers, these pegasi riders also tend to be quite pricey, and those who refused to pay the required sum were inclined to look elsewhere for troops.
Heaving a sigh of relief and wiping the sweat off her brow with the back of the hand, Lyn stopped to watch everyone around her. Wil was examining if any arrows used in the fight could be reused while Florina was still circling overhead looking for trouble. Erk and Matthew were in a heated argument, presumably concerning the reason they were dragged into this mess. Serra was inspecting a gash on Sain's horse, with its owner flattering the cleric's 'unparalleled beauty and grace' until Kent put a stop to that attempt.
Some things will never change wherever we go, Lyn thought as she watched Kent lecture Sain concerning the proper conduct of a knight in the presence of a lady. She wagered that whatever Kent was painstakingly preaching would go in one ear of his friend and right out the other.
"I suppose the primary difficulty is entering the castle," Drake's voice drifted from behind her.
Lyn turned around to find Drake and Rath discussing the situation. Intrigued by the bits and pieces of their conversation and her own suspicions, Lyn interrupted, "What did the mercenary mean by the marquis wanted my head?"
"There was no such order from the marquis," Rath shrugged, as emotionless as ever, "I was ordered to direct the Caelin heir to the castle, that was all."
"Then whatever did the soldier mean?" Lyn persisted.
"By any chance," Drake interposed softly, "Did someone besides Lyn drop by in an unexpected manner?"
Rath gave him a sharp glance, "Someone did. Lord Torson of Araphen." Rath winced slightly at the title.
"The marquis' brother?" Lyn asked.
"More like half-brother, I'd suppose," Drake supplied, "I have heard of him in Etruria, where he sought refuge after being denied the throne of Araphen."
"Correct," Rath replied, "Though the elder son of the previous lord, Lord Torson was denied the throne for some reason I do not know. Exiled by his half brother, the current lord, Lord Torson swore to return one day and claim his rightful inheritance. Yet when he was exiled, he left alone with no retainers, so how did he gain access of the castle so quickly?"
"My thoughts exactly," Lyn said, "If he was exiled, where did he get the soldiers to help in this coup? Subjects loyal to his cause in Araphen?"
"Unlikely," Matthew jumped into the conversation from behind, "I've been in Araphen for some time now, and from the common gossip in the streets, it seems Lord Torson was even less popular then his brother, the reigning lord. Highly improbable he obtained help from Araphen. Must've been a foreign source."
"Etruria?" Lyn tried again.
"Doubtful," Matthew again replied, "Etruria is commonly embroiled with its internal conflicts and recently has no interest in foreign affairs of other nation states due to a power struggle between the two prominent houses Reglay and Caerleon."
Rath and Lyn both nodded, though Drake fixated a stare on Matthew. Coughing nervously, Matthew went back to his conversation with Erk, aware that the tactician's eyes were on him.
Uncannily resourceful for a thief, Drake thought, I must be paranoid, but where did he obtain such information? The street informants are usually not privy to such classified data of Lycian states, and I can testify to that Etruria surely does not give away information of this magnitude to anyone who asks.
"You two are looking too far," Drake said softly, "The answer is right under our noses again."
"…What makes you say that?" Rath ventured.
"Lyn's name," Drake reasoned, "How many people outside of Caelin would react to the name 'Lyndis?' Our mercenary friend, who unfortunately is quite dead, reacted quite favorably to Sain blurting out that name. In short, he was hired to remove Lyn and would have been a direct link to the person who sent him."
Rath raised an eyebrow, silently prompting Drake to explain, but Lyn had caught on immediately.
"Lundgren," she gritted her teeth. Drake noted with a small smirk that his patient fishing had borne fruit as he perceived Matthew's head jerk up at that name.
"I'd presume," Drake continued, "That Lundgren had somehow found about our poor Lord Torson's plight and offered him a deal. This pact would run something along the lines of 'I will supply you with troops to fulfill your vengeance, in return, remove this pesky upstart heir for me.'"
"So what do we do now?" Lyn asked, though still fuming at the mere mention of Lundgren's name.
"Since the original marquis wishes to aid us on our journey and the usurper wishes to kill you, Lyn," Drake outlined, "I'd suppose we'd aid Rath in a rescue attempt. Would I be correct in assuming that Rath will be trying to aid the marquis with or without our assistance?"
Rath nodded while gripping his bow tightly in hand.
"I do not question your skills, Rath of Kutolah," Lyn said, stressing his tribe only to inform the Sacaen that she was serious, "What I do question is our numbers. We have barely the numbers to throw off a mercenary band, how do we assault a castle with guarded walls?"
Rath looked around to see that no stray ears were listening behind leaning close, "There is an ancient underground passageway installed in the castle. Originally built as an escape avenue for the marquis in the event that the castle was overrun, it is also operable from the other end, which is in this city. There are three switches that will open the passage from within the city, granting us access to the interior of the castle without the guards noticing."
"Would the mercenaries know of this?" Drake wondered, "If not, perhaps Lord Torson would have foreseen this?"
"Not possible," Rath countered, "The passageway is well disguised, and cannot be detected if one does not know where it is. Secondly, only two people in all of Araphen would know of this secret, the ruling lord and the captain. Upon ascending the throne, one of the first secrets divulged is the existence of this tunnel. Torson would never know the assault is coming."
"Are the switches guarded?" Lyn asked.
"That I'm not sure," Rath admitted, "I can safely venture that two are not guarded, as one is hidden in the basement of a civilian home while the other is within a gatehouse on the outer walls of the city. The final one, however, is located at the primary barracks within Araphen, and of all the places besides the castle itself, that will be the most heavily guarded location. Unfortunately, underneath the switch also lies the entrance to the passageway.
"In that case," Drake said, "Gather everyone here, I have a plan."
A few moments later, outside a particular house Rath had pointed out, Serra and Erk were waiting for the signal. Erk was grumbling something along the lines of the Manual of Escort's Responsibilities never mentioning what he was going through. That was swifly put to a stop as Serra tweaked his ear menacingly. Sighing with reluctance, he drew a fire tome from his bag and began to chant softly. Moments later, a merry blaze was licking hungrily below the second story window.
Taking a deep breath, Serra screamed, "FIIIIIIIIIIIIIRE!"
They say that nothing can disturb the afternoon nap of any citizen in Araphen, Drake thought as he observed the building churning out its residents, I, however, beg to differ. The said occupants, furious at the incident curtailing their beauty sleep and the small tendrils of flame lingering on their house, advanced furiously towards Serra. Civil tongues became a secondary requirement, as testified by the angry gestures and comments being exchanged. To her credit, Serra didn't second them anything, in which a verbal bout ensued.
"Well excuse you," she huffed, "My escort here was simply protecting me from a rude cad when he accidentally set fire to your house. No harm done right?"
Of course, no one noticed a small pegasus knight fly into the backyard and enter through the window, headed towards the basement.
One down, Drake noted as he saw Florina emerge safely and fly off with the musical chatter of furious voices still raging, two more to go.
Near the main gates of Araphen city, two dismounted cavaliers were lounging about underneath the shade of a tall tree. Despite the coup that was apparently underway at the castle, the two soldiers saw little reason to incorporate themselves within the conflict. Quick change of command, no change in pay, no change in food, therefore no change in attitude.
"Excuse me," a deep voice boomed, "Is this Araphen?"
One of the soldiers lazily opened an eye, "And why do you ask?"
"I come seeking the rest of my friends," the ax man said, "They said they'd meet me in Araphen."
"And you are?" the other soldier asked.
"Dorcas," came the reply, "Just a farmer from around Sacae."
"Bah," the first soldier waved his hand, "Be gone. Farmers don't have enough money to search for."
After Dorcas passed, the soldier turned over to his side and immediately sprang upright. His companion turned a queer look at him.
"Now what?"
"My shield!"
"What?"
"Someone stole my shield!"
"Ha, foolish knave," his companion roared with laughter, "When?"
"That's not funny, give it back."
"Give what back?"
"The shield of course."
"I already have my own," the soldier yawned, "Why would I want yours?"
"You have one?" His comrade looked over, "It's not over here."
"What? Hey, don't steal my shield because you lost yours!"
"Thieving, half baked excuse for a soldier!"
The two former comrades whirled upon one another angrily.
"Thief, eh? Have it at you!"
While the heated wrestling match between the two soldiers was attracting a crowd of curious onlookers, Matthew slipped down the tree on the opposite side from where the soldiers were brawling. Calmly replacing the two shields on their respective horses, he led the two beasts of burden inside the city where Kent and Sain were waiting with Dorcas.
"Two warhorses, complete with helm and shield delivered as ordered," Matthew drawled out.
"Did you manage to get into the gatehouse, Sain?" Kent asked.
"Sure did, pilfered two sets of armor as well," Sain said pointing to his overloaded horse, "No clue why Drake wants it though. Pshaw, and I thought Caelin armor needed better forging, look at the condition of this breastplate!"
"What is this about anyways?" Dorcas asked.
"You'll find out in a minute," Matthew said while thinking, two down with only one to go, I hope Drake knows what he's doing.
The half a dozen spearmen before the Araphen barracks couldn't believe their eyes. There in plain view, a nomad and two Araphen cavaliers were escorting a captive Sacaen girl. From her appearance, there could be no mistake that she was the missing Lyndis. Hurrying inside, one of the guards hurriedly reported to Boor, commander of the mercenaries.
"Lyndis, huh?" Boor grunted, "Excellent, our job is done then."
Coming outside, the ponderous knight nodded towards the nomad, "Much thanks, I'll take it from here."
"I think not," Rath replied, "As Captain of the Guard, it is my duty to see the prisoner to the marquis."
"But Lord Torson is at the castle," Boor said confusedly, "What are you doing at the barracks?"
"Simple," Rath said, "I'm leaving her in the dungeons under the supervision of these two behind me," he gestured towards the helmed cavaliers behind him.
"Why not just give her to me?" Boor asked, "I am the commander of the mercenaries after all."
"That's my promotion," Rath said, jerking his thumb at Lyn, "Why would I give her to you?"
With that, he dismounted and took Lyn into the barracks, followed closely by the two cavaliers on foot. Turning red with rage, Boor turned and crossly dug the butt of his lance into the ground. He couldn't argue with the Captain of the Guard, but he didn't want to see his bonus slip out of his hands either. A couple of minutes passed by before a young man dressed in a brown cloak ran full tilt around the corner and stopped panting heavily before the knight.
"D-did, did you see?" The youth wheezed, "Captain Rath anywhere?"
"He just went in," Boor said, pointing towards the barracks, "Why?"
"You just let him in? I'm an informant of Lord Torson, name's Matthew," Matthew screeched, "He has turned against Lord Torson and is aiding that Lyndis!"
"What? Are you sure?"
"Positive," Matthew hacked, "Half a dozen of ours were cut down by their crew, and the survivors witnessed Rath helping her."
"Damn!" Boor raged, turning purple at being made a fool of, and stormed into the barracks. Behind him, Matthew turned and gave a thumbs-up signal.
Bewildered by the thief's action, one of the guards looked towards where Matthew was signaling. Squinting his eyes against the sun, he was rewarded by an arrow thudding into this thigh. His squawk of dismay was halted when Matthew pulled out a sword and stabbed the surprised spearman in the back. Hooting with laughter, Matthew sprinted off while chanting, "They fell for it! Hook, line, and sinker!"
Recovering from their shock, the remaining five spearmen charged after the elusive thief.
"Get him," one of them roared, "And his little sniping buddy too!"
"Hah, fool," another muttered, "He ran into a dead end."
Sure enough, Matthew had ran into a dead end and turned around at the end of the alley. The five pursuers smirked smugly before plugging the alleyway.
"Surrender, scum! Before I…" The soldier collapsed, with an arrow sticking out of his back.
One of his comrades turned and yelped with fear as Dorcas' fearsome ax smote him deeply in the shoulder. Realizing they had run into an ambush, the three remaining soldiers formed a triangle with all of them facing outwards. Unfortunately, they never noticed Florina diving down upon them until one of them perished beneath her lance. Screaming, one of them lunged towards Florina, but was felled by a blast of fire magic from behind. The last soldier, seeing himself quite alone amidst a group of enemies, quickly discarded his weapon and surrendered.
"Whew," Matthew said while wiping his brow, "Thought they had me for a second."
"You weren't supposed to stab the guy in the back," Drake observed drolly, "I thought you were just going to taunt them."
"I thought I'd get their attention better with the pointed end," Matthew said cheekily.
The soldier, who was hauled upright by Dorcas, gulped nervously as Matthew held a sword near his throat.
"Now, my friend," Drake began calmly, "I suggest you start speaking about Caelin's involvement, otherwise our friend Matthew here will have to extract information the old-fashioned way."
"A-and that is?"
"Why, torture of course."
"I-I swear, I d-don't know anything," the man babbled, "Only Boor is actually from Caelin. T-the others like myself, w-we're just mercenaries that Boor recruited. P-please, please don't kill me!"
"Florina, one question," Drake said while turning to Florina, "Do pegasi like meat raw or cooked?"
Missing Florina's scandalized blush, the captured mercenary fainted completely.
As he trudged through the barracks, Boor was seething with fury. As he passed through the first floor of the military facility, he silently vowed he would rend that miserable nomad apart piece by piece. Puzzled, he reached the dungeons but found the area deserted. Abruptly, he heard faint whisperings coming through the trapdoor that led to the foundations below. Clutching his lance, he descended clumsily down the stairs, and narrowly avoided being decapitated by a sword stroke.
Jabbing with his lance, Boor landed on the stone floor with a thud. Twirling his lance around him, he created a brief circle of protection around him as to buy him time to study the surroundings. The nomad and Lyndis were tinkering with some sort of device while the two cavaliers stood before him armed with swords.
"As Drake had promised," one of the helmed knights spoke, "Only the armored knight would come after us."
"And swords are better than lances in close combat," the other finished, "Long time no see, Boor."
"What?" Boor wondered, "How do you know me?"
"You forget us quickly," the first knight pulled off his helm, "Must have been brainwashed by Lundgren's lies."
"Sain!" Boor bellowed, "Then you must be…"
"Or by his gold," Kent said tugging off his helm, "You're right Sain, these Araphen helms do smell terrible."
"Not as filthy as the traitor I see before me," Sain replied.
Boor, frothing in anger, pounded towards the pair. Sain stepped to the left while Kent stepped to the right, catching Boor two powerful blows on the shoulder and the thigh. Screaming at the pain in his shoulder, Boor glanced at the cut.
"H-how?" The man gasped, "M-my armor cannot be penetrated so easily."
"Matthew was kind enough to obtain this for me from your armory," Sain said, tossing an armorslayer from hand-to-hand, "A bit unwieldy for normal combat, but perfectly suitable against ponderous knights such as yourself."
"Now perish," Kent growled, "As a traitor to House Caelin, you deserve no less."
"M-mercy," Boor begged on his knees, "Don't kill me! I'll do whatever you want."
"Coward," Lyn said as she kicked Boor from behind, who fell flat with a strangled cry, "Slaying you would only dirty my blade."
Rath, however, finished turning the rusted switch and pulled an arrow from his quiver. Gripping it tightly like a dagger, he bent down and stabbed the helpless knight in the back of the neck. Glancing up, he said softly, "As captain, my duty is to remove insurgents of Araphen. He led an armed uprising, punishable only with death."
Lyn sighed, "You're right, but Drake may have wanted to question the fool."
"What's done is done," Rath said, as if in apology, "Let's push on to the castle," he gestured towards the revealed passageway.
As they passed along the moldy tunnel, they could distinctly make out an argument that was steadily rising in volume from the other end.
"Where does this lead to?" Kent asked from the rear.
"It happens to lead directly behind the throne," Rath answered.
"What better place to ambush," Sain said.
"Quiet," Lyn said softly, "Listen."
"So brother, concede your defeat yet?"
"That would be Torson," Rath supplied.
"You with your peasant for a mother will never ascend the throne of Araphen!" Someone else snapped.
"I'd assume that's your lord," Lyn whispered, to which Rath nodded.
"How dare you," Lord Torson raged, "I forbid you from speaking of my mother in such a manner."
"You're nothing more than a bastard of Araphen, Torson," Marquis Araphen uttered in contempt, "Father was so ashamed of you that he refused to acknowledge you as a member of the household."
"Lies!"
"Its true," the marquis sneered, "And you had grand dreams of being in my place. I hail from the purest union between Araphen and Etruria, whilst you will never be more than a common brat!"
"Why you…" words failing his anger, Lord Torson pulled back to strike the marquis.
Quick as a snake, a hand emerged from the curtains behind the throne and clasped the arm inches before it made contact with the marquis' face. From behind the throne, Rath emerged with Lord Torson's arm tightly in hand, with Lyn and her retainers following.
"Ah, Rath," the marquis actually smiled slightly, "Excellent work, what a performance."
"My mercenaries will be here shortly," Lord Torson growled angrily.
"Your mercenary leader, Boor, is quite dead," Rath said emotionlessly.
"I still command this castle!"
"You commanded this castle," Drake corrected as he opened the door, "They just lowered the drawbridge and surrendered unconditionally upon learning Boor has fallen."
"You coup has failed, dear brother," the marquis said mockingly, "Rath, take this man to the dungeons, I wish to speak with this girl."
After Rath left, the marquis looked Lyn up and down, "You are Marquis Caelin's granddaughter." The statement was not a question.
"Yes, my name is Lyndis," Lyn replied.
"You understand that my half-brother used your inheritance dispute as a method for attacking Araphen?" The marquis thundered.
"M-my apologies," Lyn stammered, "I had not known my granduncle capable of such an act."
"I had intended to aid the daughter of Lady Madelyn," the marquis continued, "But upon meeting this Lyndis, I retract my offer."
Kent sucked in a breath, "But, milord!"
"You failed to inform me that she has the tainted form of a Sacaen savage."
Lyn glanced sharply upward while Sain's hand drifted to his sword.
"Why, you!"
"Sain," Drake said warningly while looking at Sain. We already have enough of an enemy in Lundgren, that glance said, do not increase our hassle by adding Araphen to the mix.
"Furthermore," the marquis continued silkily, "Marquis Caelin is ill and may not even last long enough for you to reach Caelin. In that case, Lord Lundgren will become the next marquis, and I hardly need him as an enemy on the council!"
Lyn took a deep breath before looking the marquis in the eye, "I am proud of the blood that flows in my veins," if looks could kill, the marquis would be a pile of meat by now, "By Father Sky, I will not accept the assistance of one who blasphemes my heritage."
Turning stiffly on the heel, Lyn quitted the chamber followed closely by Kent and Sain. As Drake left the room, he saw out of the corner of his eye that another nomad was entering the marquis chamber. Smirking to himself, Drake situated himself along the hallway awaiting the next member of their mercenary group to emerge.
Lyn was still fuming as she left the castle accompanied by Kent and Sain. Sain was all for going back and knocking some sense into the marquis, but cooler heads prevailed.
"The marquis mentioned that my grandfather was ill," Lyn said, "We must press on to Caelin."
"We've been sorely tested as soon as we set foot upon Lycian soil," Kent said, "It'll only become more difficult from here on out. However, as your loyal retainer milady, I shall see this out to the end."
"As will I!" Sain added defiantly.
"It appears we will as well," Drake said, pointing to himself and Rath.
"Rath?" Lyn's eyes widened, "But, how?"
"I chanced to overhear your conversation with the marquis, and I shall serve him no longer," he replied, "I would be honored to join you."
At that moment, Serra popped up behind Lyn, "Excuse me, has anyone seen Matthew?"
"Hm?" Matthew asked, showing himself from behind Rath's horse, "What is it?"
"Where have you been all this time?"
"I've been inquiring information at the castle," he replied.
"The treasure room was very helpful," Drake said yawned.
"Indeed it was," Matthew said unconsciously, "Filled to the roof with gold and precious gems of all sorts, a thief's dream... Wait, what did I just say?"
"You didn't…" Kent began.
"He didn't what?" Sain asked.
"Treasure room, castle," Serra said counting on her fingers, "Gee, I wonder what you were up to…"
Matthew was sweating at this point, desperately looking for a way out.
"Tell you what," Drake said, yawning again, "We'll overlook this…"
"You will?" Matthew asked hopefully, "Sweet, I'll do anything!"
"What?" Everyone else exclaimed, incredulous at the mention of a reprieve.
"Provided you donate all your profits from here on out into Lyn's war funds," Drake finished as he plucked the bag of loot from Matthew's hands.
That's all, read and review if you're able to! I apologize for the tardiness in the update frequency!