Firelight

A/N: Thanks to the few who reviewed the last chapter! I hope those who are reading enjoy this one as much as they did the last!

Chapter Four: Plans Fail

The castle was quiet. Everything in Eirika's head was telling her that the quiet was not a good thing. She hadn't been home in months, but even when Ephraim had been away and the king busy, the castle had been full of noise. After a while, Eirika decided she just wasn't used to the silence and started looking.

She did her best to ignore the throbbing pain in her side. She'd looked at it; a rather sickening blue-purple bruise spread across her entire left side, darker and more painful to touch where Valter's boot had landed. She was still breathing, though, which she took as a good sign.

A look around Ephraim's room had her fervently hoping that his secret exit—they each had one, just in case—wasn't under or behind something heavy. She was barely managing standing, let alone shoving aside the bed or the wardrobe. The bookshelf she thought she might have been able to handle, but only if she removed all the books first and could stop the sound of it falling from echoing throughout the whole castle.

The door rattled on its hinges. She heard the lock click, and an instant later the door swung open. Valter and Riev stepped inside.

"You will be pleased to know, dear Princess," Riev began in his oily voice, "I had the pleasure of watching the progress of your army's little crusade. How touching, that they have such loyalty to you."

"As much as you delight in taunts, Riev," said Valter coldly, "I want you to finish your message and leave."

Riev gave Valter a withering look. "Fine." He turned back to Eirika with a sneer. "You may not be quite so pleased to know how they were stopped. From what little I saw, victory for your army…is impossible."

Eirika bit back any harsh words she might have wanted to say. What little she had already said had only made things worse, and her silence seemed to upset them more than any words did. She liked that.

"The Maelduin I sent after them were particularly impressive. I stayed long enough to watch some of the fight. There was a small boy, with red hair…and a man on foot with red armor…the Maelduin seemed particularly fond of them. The way the boy just crumpled…" Riev laughed wickedly. "I wish only that you could have seen it for yourself."

Still snickering, Riev stalked out of the room. Valter watched his retreating back with an icy glare. When he disappeared around the corner, the wyvern knight's sly smile fell on Eirika, still standing defiantly beside Ephraim's bed.

"Such a display of stubbornness, Eirika," he said in an amused voice. "Standing must be almost too painful to stand. Ah, forgive me my…inopportune play on words. Still, you make yourself look quite foolish."

Eirika fought off the rising urge to attack him, reminding herself that she had nothing to attack him with, even if she could get close.

"I suggest you make yourself comfortable, Princess. While Riev may be inclined to underestimate you and your followers, I am not. A few losses may slow them, but they will not be stopped. They have learned stubbornness from you."

He stepped closer, his smile widening. He looked crazed. "Of course, it is only your stubbornness that I value. It offers me such a challenge."

He was gone before she could slap him, though her hand did move through the air where his face had just been. She clenched that hand into a fist, staying on her feet until the door was shut and locked behind him. She let go of her anger then, realizing that all it would do was waste her energy.

She sighed, sitting back down on the edge of the bed. It seemed a bit hopeless, really. Even if she did manage to escape, the chances that she would get caught were so high she didn't want to think about them. By instinct her hand reached for the hilt of a sword that wasn't there. She wasn't sure whether she was more uncomfortable being unarmed or having that instinct at all.

Getting up again, Eirika knelt and looked under the bed. She was hoping for either some kind of secret door or something with which she could fight; she found neither. Annoyed, she got back up and searched the wall behind the bed, and again found nothing. She tried the bookshelf next, and then the wardrobe, checking inside but finding only clothes. Leaving the doors open, she sighed and looked around the room.

She checked every place she could think of. It took about an hour, and at the end of it she was still weaponless and still trapped. She sat down on the bed again, looking at the two tall windows. This room was one of the highest in the castle, but if the windows were the only way…she shook her head. She didn't want to think about trying to climb down from such a height, even if she could use the sheets and Ephraim's clothes to help her.

Thinking of the clothes made her look up at the wardrobe again. The doors were still open, and something seemed off. She got up and went over to it, frowning.

The sleeve of one of Ephraim's shirts fluttered in a breeze that couldn't possibly have a source. Reaching her hand into the wardrobe, Eirika grinned. She felt a breeze, too. She stepped inside, reaching out a hand to run it along the wooden back of the wardrobe. She was even more pleased to find not a piece of wood but a curtain, at one side of which was a long pull cord. She pulled it, and the curtain slid aside to reveal a hole cut into the wall at about waist level. It was just big enough for someone about Ephraim's size to crawl into.

She still had nothing to help her if she got into a fight, but this opportunity was too close not to take. Valter or Riev could return at any moment, and she would much rather be gone when they did. She looked once more out the window, at the mostly overcast sky. She could see the sun still; it was about two hours past sunrise.

She reached out and pulled the wardrobe doors closed behind her, prepared for the darkness that enveloped her. Finding the pull cord again, she stepped close to the hole and pulled it, closing the curtain in front of her. Biting her lip to keep from making any noise, she crouched and started to crawl through the hole.

She'd gone about ten yards when the tunnel opened up to a space tall enough for her to stand in. She carefully climbed out of the hole-tunnel, taking a long moment to sit leaning against the wall, waiting for breathing to get easier again.

Eirika didn't know how long she really sat there, listening intently for sounds of pursuit. She stared straight ahead, into the darkness of the tunnel beyond her. She regretted not thinking to bring some kind of light source with her. Still, after she caught her breath and managed to stand again, she continued forward into the darkness.

She hadn't gone more than a few steps when the floor fell away beneath her. She tried to catch her balance, hands reaching for some kind of purchase on the smooth stone, but she only succeeded in twisting to land hard on her right side. It knocked the breath out of her, and what little hold she had on the edge of the drop was lost.

Still trying to catch her breath, she started to fall.

Vanessa considered taking off. She came perilously close to nudging Titania into the air, but stopped herself at the last second. Prince Innes was dealing with enough as it was. The least she could do was keep him company.

"And furthermore, if you would not speak with such a cold demeanor, we may have already been allowed into one of the villages! You are insufferable, Innes!" L'Arachel was ranting. Innes rolled his eyes. "How dare you gesture so while I'm speaking to you!"

"Yelling at me, is more like it," Innes muttered, wishing he carried his bow. He would never actually strike her with it, of course, but he could at least entertain himself with imagining it.

"Don't make it worse, Prince Innes," Vanessa whispered, and Innes looked up at her. "Maybe if you ignore it, she'll stop." Vanessa thought this was quite an idea, but Innes didn't look convinced.

"This is all your fault, Prince of Frelia! We would all have been rested and prepared if not for your cynical manner!"

"I wasn't the one waving an empty staff around like a lunatic."

"I completely forgive poor Natasha for that, and you should too!"

"I wasn't talking about Natasha!" Innes snapped. "She never went anywhere near the town gates, and she isn't the stubborn—"

"Prince Innes!" Vanessa sighed in relief at Seth's voice. Overtired and irritable as he was, Innes had no idea how close he had come to no longer being in possession of his head.

"What is it, Seth?" Innes yelled sharply. The paladin rode back to them, a look of relief mixed with urgency on his face.

"Princess Tana has just returned with Neimi," he said flatly. "They've spotted a village, about an hour's fast ride from here."

"What's that on foot, then?" Vanessa asked, the first flashes of hope beginning to show themselves.

"Two hours at the fastest pace we can take," Innes answered with a dark frown. "If we can take it."

"If we can make it," Vanessa echoed quietly. "So many more of us got hurt in that fight…"

"Speaking of that, how are you doing?" Innes asked almost gently.

"Oh, stop, Prince Innes. I'm fine." Vanessa had been pointedly ignoring the sting in her left arm where an arrow had gone through it. She did look down at it now, though, flinching at the red spots against the light cloth wrapping it. "It was just one arrow."

"Arrows are especially dangerous for Pegasus knights. I should know." Innes sounded stubborn. "Maelduin have no business carrying bows. …You're not tired or anything?"

"We're all tired, Prince, including you. I meant it, I'm just fine. We'll get to the village and rest and restock soon." She smiled at him, and he scowled deeper. Vanessa didn't mind, though. After so much time spent with the Prince of Frelia, she recognized when he was trying to hide kindness.

The army marched onward, going as fast as they were able. Foremost in just about everyone's thoughts was reaching the village and sleeping. No one forgot they were trying to rescue Eirika, but that didn't have as prominent a place as more immediate needs did.

Seth was still riding at the head of their little caravan, and now it was Tana who rode beside him, with Neimi riding on the pack of her Pegasus. The latter kept glancing back toward the convoy cart, thinking of Colm. Neimi thought she was doing quite well, though—she hadn't cried in days.

Tana was worried, too, and the feeling seemed to be piling higher and higher with each thing that happened. The promise she had made to Eirika, the battle in the desert of Jehanna, Prince Ephraim returning only to be defeated and lose his sister, traveling all night with no rest…and now this new fight. It all built up into a kind of mental spiral that Tana really didn't want to think about.

But it was all she could think about. She had been one of the few to escape the morning's battle unharmed, but that just left her open to thinking. She had the utmost respect for Seth, but the Silver Knight wasn't much of a conversationalist. She looked over at him and knew by his expression that he had his own worries.

Seth felt Tana's gaze but didn't meet it. He was tired. It was a hard thing to recognize and an even harder one to acknowledge, but it was there. He could almost feel himself slumping forward in the saddle; the duty-bound paladin in him expressly forbade it, so he sat up straighter.

His thoughts were now split in three. One third still lingered on rescuing Princess Eirika, though he kept trying to convince himself to believe that she could handle whatever situation she might be in. The other two thirds of his attention were on two of the occupants of the supply convoy.

He did meet Tana's eyes then, but she had already gone back to staring straight ahead. He wished he had the clarity that she seemed to have right then, and not the confusion and weight that was threatening to take him over.

Tana stared straight ahead now, focusing on the ground before them, trying very hard to stay awake. The only people who had slept were those riding in the convoy, and they were still riding. She desperately wanted to join them, even if she could only sleep for an hour.

She thought it was strange, too, that it was she and not her brother who had sort of taken control of things. Innes was forever worrying about her, especially during battles, but he'd said nothing in protest to any of her half-orders. She sighed, shaking her head. She wasn't in any mood to analyze her brother, either.

She glanced back at the convoy cart, letting the feeling of deep sadness pass before looking away. So much had gone wrong. They were supposed to defeat Valter and then return to Renais all together, to claim victory. Every hour that passed seemed to take them farther away from that goal. Tana didn't know if she could stand to lose anyone else.

Seth didn't, either.

When she finally came to a stop, Eirika held still for several long minutes, afraid any movement would start her sliding again. Thankfully, the drop had quickly resolved into a steep and twisting slide—better than falling straight down, but it made her feel like she might lose what little she'd eaten.

Getting control of her stomach back, Eirika shifted a little, relieved when she didn't start moving again. Reaching out a hand, she couldn't feel anything immediately in front of her, but there were rough stone walls close by on both sides. She tried to stand and immediately fell back down, ears ringing and head pounding. The ceiling, also made of solid rock, was barely inches above her head.

You were foolish to try that without checking first, she scolded herself, rubbing the top of her head. The situation is bad enough as it is. Don't make it worse.

Squinting into the darkness, she could just make out a vertical line of light about two feet in front of her. It reached from floor to ceiling of the small space she was in, and if she listened carefully she could hear noises coming from the same direction as the light.

She crawled toward it, one hand in front of her to let her know when she hit the wall with the crack. It gave against her hand, and she pulled it back quickly. A search of the corners revealed two sets of hinges on each side.

It isn't a wall. It's a set of doors. Small doors, too. There are people out there…and the door gave. It opens, it isn't locked.

Eirika's breath caught in her throat. One of those voices she recognized. Riev. If he finds me here… She didn't let herself finish the thought. As quietly as she could, she backed away from the door, crouching back by the end of the slide. Sitting like that set her side on fire, but she didn't want to risk making any noise.

After about an hour, she no longer heard Riev's voice. Still trying not to make any noise—the other voices were still there—she shifted herself so she was sitting, leaning back against the bottom of the slide. She stretched her legs out, and her feet barely touched the doors.

Soon she started to smell food. She sat up suddenly and very nearly knocked herself out on the low ceiling. Closing her eyes—dizzying dark was worse than just dark—she smiled to herself.

The light through the doors is coming from the kitchen! Riev must have been eating…I will have to talk with Ephraim about this, though. His secret exit ending at the kitchen is entirely unfair.

She almost laughed at her own thoughts. Attributing them to hitting her head twice on solid stone, she opened her eyes again as the voices grew louder. If this really was a kitchen cabinet, she realized, then it was that much more likely that someone would open it and find her.

She could do little besides pull her feet away from the doors again and wait. It was still morning, and if the kitchen now was anything like the kitchen she'd known, it wouldn't be empty until nightfall at the earliest.

Thoughts of Seth and the others assaulted her as her mind started to wonder. Had Riev been telling the truth about Ewan and Forde?

He can't have been. There's no way…Forde is one of our best! He couldn't fall, even to a Maelduin…and Ewan…Saleh would have protected him. Everyone would have. No monsters have ever stopped us before. They have Ephraim to help them, they're not leaderless. Riev has to be lying to me.

Her eyes widened, there in the darkness, as she argued desperately with herself. …But if it was true…how could he know so specifically? He couldn't just guess on what they looked like…it would be too risky. He has to know…he has to have seen. …Ewan, Forde…

The worst part was being able to see it all so clearly in her mind. She wasn't too familiar with Maelduin, but Lute had mentioned them being some sort of larger, stronger cousin of the Tarvos. She didn't know why she was recalling Lute so clearly, either. But she could certainly picture a very large, axe-wielding Tarvos—several of them—charging toward her army.

She shuddered, trying not to think about it. There was little else to think about in the dark, but she gave it her best effort. After a while, she decided she needed a more detailed plan for after she escaped the kitchen.

If she escaped the kitchen.

Rennac was not happy. Granted, he was still in one piece and nothing hurt all that much, which was more than just about anyone else could say. He was grateful for that. He also wasn't walking anymore; everyone without a mount was now sharing one with someone else. This was the source of his unhappiness.

Someone had had the remarkable idea of having him ride with L'Arachel. He swore yet again that if he ever really found out who that someone was, they would learn why it was a very bad idea.

L'Arachel was talking about something, he realized. Possibly she was still yelling at Innes, who was close enough to hear her but too far away to do anything about it. Rennac was relieved to no longer be the object of her frustration, but the twinges of sympathy he kept feeling for Innes were unnerving.

"The village!" came Neimi's excited cry from above. Tana's Pegasus swooped low over their heads, and Rennac ducked out of reflex. He could hear Innes snickering at him for it. He decided to pay the prince back as soon as he had the chance.

They rode faster, Rennac holding onto L'Arachel for dear life. He caught this about three seconds later and abruptly let go, resolving to stay on by balance alone instead.

It was Cormag and Artur, high in the air on Genarog, who reached the village first. They looked at each other, caught somewhere between disbelief and resignation. Cormag got down off his wyvern and walked closer, unable to really believe it until he touched the broken, charred wall of a house for himself.

The village was in ruins. There were no people, no homes, no shelter. No place for rest or food. There weren't even people to throw them out.

Seth and Innes caught up next, reacting in similar ways. As Tana landed, Seth turned to her with a grave look on his face.

"Turn them around," he said quietly. "We'll need to find somewhere else."

"Quickly," added Franz, who had come up behind them looking crestfallen. Cormag felt sympathy for the young cavalier, especially after what had happened to his brother. It couldn't have been much easier on him having to ride with Garcia, who was an excellent fighter but not much of one for consolation.

"I don't even know where we are," Tana mused quietly. "Are we even headed in the right direction?" She sounded hopeless.

"That'd depend on where you're going," said a rough voice. A tall man in worn clothing stepped out from the shell of one of the houses, giving them an appraising look. "And who you are."

His eyes swept over Seth once, then came back to him and widened considerably. "The Silver Knight," he whispered, more to himself than any of them. Seth just nodded. "My apologies! I'd heard…the rumors say that all of the soldiers of Renais were killed, even the great Silver Knight."

"The rumors are untrue," Seth replied evenly.

"That's apparent. Is there something I can do for you?" he asked, stepping farther forward and speaking in a friendlier tone.

"We'd love to know where we are right now. And where the nearest village is," Franz added quickly. "We're headed for the castle—" Seth's glance silenced him before he could continue, and Tana looked at him apologetically.

"Toward the castle, huh? Nearest village is about two hours' fast ride west of here, if you want to stay in that kind of direction."

"Right now the direction matters little," Seth replied. The man thought for a long moment, then nodded.

"Still to the west, then. They'll recognize you, they should let you in soon as they see you." Seth nodded, signaling to Franz and Cormag to go tell the others. With another nod to the man, he turned and rode away.

"Thank you," Tana said with a dark frown in Seth's direction. "You have no idea how much help you've been."

"Happy to be any help at all," he replied with a wave. She waved back, then took to the sky again.

Cormag glanced back at Artur as they turned westward. "Not airsick, are you?"

"Not yet," Artur replied shakily. He'd just gotten over being afraid to look down when they had landed, and now he had to start all over again. "You're certain Genarog doesn't mind?"

"If he minded, you'd know it." Cormag grinned, which only made Artur more apprehensive. "Besides, he seems to like you."

"I can't imagine why," Artur mumbled, trying desperately not to look down.

Cormag though of replying with something like 'neither can I,' but another look back at the monk told him he probably shouldn't. "You think you can stand two hours of flying?"

"Oh, yes," was the optimistic reply, and Cormag shook his head. "I just have to get it in my head that Genarog would catch me if I fell off." There was a definite implied question in his cheerful statement. Cormag just laughed, and he heard Artur groan.

Amelia watched them for a while, thinking of all the other wyvern riders she'd been acquainted with as a recruit in Grado's army. None of them were quite like Cormag, and no one could have rivaled his brother, General Glen. She was pleased to find that these thoughts no longer made her homesick for Grado, just for her family.

She was also pleased to be back on her horse again, even if she was tired and sore and had to share with Gerik. He rode behind her, with his hands lightly on her waist. He had surprised the young cavalier by being completely comfortable on horseback.

"Not holding too tight, am I?" he asked amicably; she could hear the smile in his voice. "I hate to say it, but we can't exactly afford anyone falling off a horse."

"No, it's fine," she replied, turning to give him a smile in return. "I'm just glad to be riding. The fresh air is a nice change."

"Must be. You're sure you're alright to ride?"

"You show a lot of concern for someone who isn't part of your mercenary band, you know," said Tethys' musical voice from somewhere behind them. Amelia felt Gerik turn, and she imagined he was giving the dancer some kind of look.

"We're all part of the same band now, Tethys." All of them turned to look at Marisa, who was sharing Forde's empty horse with an unarmored—and unhappy—Gilliam. She said nothing else, though, simply turning her attention to the road again.

"She's something else," Gerik mused aloud, and Amelia smiled to herself.

"Is it exciting, being the leader of mercenaries?" she asked when he'd had sufficient time to dwell on the thought of Marisa. Gerik, hearing this only vaguely, snapped himself out of it and went over the question in his head.

"Well…it comes and goes, in a way. Joining up with Prince Innes and Princess Eirika has probably been the most exciting thing to happen in a long time." He shook his head, remembering. "Innes is a very lucky man, to have found friends in those two."

Amelia just nodded, looking up at Cormag and his wyvern again. She recognized that she was making a very pointed attempt at keeping her mind off the time this was taking, and the reason they had to rush. She did glance back once at the convoy, but she looked away quickly.

Gerik looked at Marisa and Gilliam again. As far as he could tell, the general consensus had been that they should ride together because the silence would be what each of them most wanted. Looking ahead, he tried to puzzle out what had landed Rennac with L'Arachel. After several long minutes, he concluded that the rogue was just plain unlucky.

Eirika didn't dare move, though she thought the hungry growls coming from her stomach should have been enough to give her away by now. She hadn't eaten since the day before, and the constant delicious smells coming in through the door were almost too much to resist.

As far as she could tell, no one had come near the cabinet all day, though she had braced her feet against it again upon realizing that the doors would open inward. Anyone who tried would think it locked, and hopefully stop trying. It was going to be agonizing to wait for dark, especially with food so very close by, but she knew that trying to escape any other time would only invite trouble.

Still, she thought, some kind of kitchen break or something would be great right about now…if only to give me time to get something to eat…

A distant bell sounded. There was a sudden intensity of noise and movement in the kitchen, and Eirika slowly sat up, moving closer to the crack in the door. After several minutes of deafening noise, the kitchen grew entirely silent.

Eirika was suspicious of this, especially after having just thought that something like this needed to happen. The opposing sides of her mind argued about opening the doors for a while, but in the end she was too hungry and too tired of just waiting. As quietly and slowly as possible, she opened first one door and then the other, relieved when there was no loud creak of the hinges.

She slipped out of the doors and closed them again. So far the kitchen seemed empty. She stood to look around and found no one. She did find a loaf of fresh bread on one of the counters, and she'd eaten half of it before even reaching the half-open kitchen doors.

She peeked out of these, too, looking carefully down first one hall and then the other. No one was nearby, so she slipped out, darting across the wide hall and ducking into the alcove behind a pillar. She finished the loaf of bread and felt better for a moment, before having to lean against the pillar to support herself as pain shot through her side.

You're going to have to ignore this. Getting anywhere in here without being noticed is going to take speed and silence. Just pretend it doesn't hurt anymore. Telling herself that didn't seem to be working all too well, but she couldn't think of anything else to do.

She did know where she needed to go. There were several exits to the castle itself, not counting the front doors, and it was highly unlikely that Valter had guards at all of them. Steeling herself, she ran as fast as she could down the hall, stopping and peering around the corner first before continuing. There was no one in this direction, either, and she assumed it must be lunch.

Still, not even Valter was arrogant enough—though Riev might be—to have every last one of his guards and soldiers eating at the same time. She moved from hall to corridor to hall in short sprints, and with long breaks when the pain from her ribs became too much to stand. She found herself near an open window, and the soft breeze blowing in was refreshing, but the angle of the sun reminded her that soon lunch would be ending and the halls would be full once again.

She froze at the sound of hard, heavy footsteps approaching. Turning a corner, she saw the shadow of a pointed helmet on the carpeting at the end of the hall, and as quietly as possible she went through the nearest doors, closing them behind her.

She pulled the locking bar down across the door, then frowned at it. Very few doors in the castle had bar locks anymore. Slowly turning around, her eyes met a literal wall of books. She let out a soft sigh of relief. It was the castle library.

No one would be here, especially not with the castle occupied, and at this time of day. Still, she went in silence around the rows of books, trying to orient herself without stepping into the open center area of the library. When she finally worked out where she was, she hurried though the bookshelves until she reached a small, rough staircase. It was meant for servants, but it led up to the other three levels of the library.

Slowly and breathlessly, she climbed the stairs to the third level, ducking behind a bookshelf as soon as she could and making her way around the perimeter of the floor. There had once been a librarian in the castle, she recalled, though her faint memories of the tall, thin man were centered around the ages of five and six. Somewhere on the third level was his old workroom.

She looked at the door. It locked from the inside, and it needed a key. She gave the door an experimental push. It opened with a loud squeal, and she grabbed the knob before it could let loose any more noise. Slipping in, she shut the door behind her, eliciting the same rusty screech, and turned the lock. When she heard no voices or footsteps drawn to the sound, she sighed in relief and turned to survey the room.

It was small, about twelve feet by twelve feet, and bookshelves full of books in disrepair lined one wall. There was a sturdy table with drawers and a chair; a lamp was on the table, and another hung under the window. On the other side of the room was a smaller, round table draped with a faded cloth, and against the far wall was a small, worn, patched sofa.

Eirika sat on this, surprised at how comfortable it was. It didn't look so, with the feathers that stuffed it falling out in places and one of the pillows missing. It was softer than the stone she'd spent most of the morning on, though, and she found herself dozing off. Jolting awake again, she looked at the door.

Valter probably didn't even know this place existed, and the stone door was locked. She hadn't lit either of the lamps, so there was no light to give her away. Overall she felt safe here, though she knew it was a false feeling. No place in this castle was safe now.

She lay back down on the couch again, staring at the low stone ceiling in the dim light. She wondered where Seth and the rest of her army were, if Riev had been telling the truth. She worried for Ephraim—when last she'd seen him, he had been impaled on Valter's lance—and now she feared for Forde and Ewan, too.

She felt herself drifting off again, her half-asleep mind assuring the rest of her that her army could take care of itself, and she would just have to trust in that.

The cart jolted over a bump in the road, and the back of Saleh's head smacked into the wall. He lazily opened one eye, still dozing for a precious few seconds before he remembered he shouldn't be.

He opened both eyes and shook his head to clear it. It was getting to be quite warm; that and the motion of the cart must have lulled him to sleep. He was just as tired as the rest of them, with the exceptions of Seth, who never seemed to tire, and Ephraim, who had slept.

He was sitting against the front wall of the convoy, staring out the half-open back. Beside him, between he and the wall, was Ewan. Saleh looked down at his student with worry he usually kept hidden; the boy hadn't moved. He was still noticeably pale and very, very still.

Saleh closed his eyes, remembering the early morning's battle. Ewan had certainly held his own against the onslaught, but an unexpected blast of dark magic from one of the Mogalls had thrown him. Saleh had been occupied with his own enemies for the next several minutes, but when he looked again Ewan had an arrow in his left arm and was casting a thunder spell. The axe-wielding Maelduin that he was aiming at stopped short of the spell and reared up on its back legs. One of its flailing front legs had caught Ewan in the head, and the boy had dropped to the ground instantly.

Saleh couldn't remember the next few minutes, either, though he had the general sense of casting some kind of immensely powerful spell. His next clear memory was of gently lifting his student from the ground and carrying him back to the convoy.

He looked around at the rest of them, thinking it was quite crowded in there now. Colm sat near the back, staring out at the road disappearing behind them. Ross sat, too, looking defiant and stubborn, as he usually did. Joshua was sitting against one side, with Natasha beside him, asleep with her head on his shoulder.

Kyle was a few feet away, sitting with his back to Saleh. His attention seemed focused inward, something to which Saleh felt he could relate. Ephraim, too, was lost somewhere in his own mind, and hadn't spoken since early that morning. Shaking himself from these thoughts, the sage looked down at Ewan again.

"You're worried." Ephraim's voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it seemed to echo in the silence that had filled the cart. Saleh met his eyes and found himself staring into an intensity that mirrored Eirika's almost exactly. It struck Saleh that he'd begun a conversation with Seth this way the night before.

"So I am," he answered just as quietly. "But there isn't much that can be done at the moment."

"We'll reach a town soon," Ephraim said, though he seemed to be trying to convince himself more than Saleh. The sage considered whether or not he should say anything to this. Ephraim stopped him before he could try.

"My sister…you're her army, not mine. She…somehow she got all of you to take up the cause. I don't know how she did it, and I don't know that I could have done the same in her place. …She trusts you, doesn't she?"

"Me personally? I imagine she does."

"Yes, you, but not just you. Everyone. Her army." Ephraim gestured to encompass everyone.

"With the possible exception of Rennac, yes," Saleh said with a halfhearted smile. "Why?"

"I was in Grado. I…Grado attacked Renais, so I…I had to find out what they wanted, what made Emperor Vigarde change his mind. I had to…" He trailed off, shaking his head. "When I found out Eirika was in Jehanna, I raced to catch up with her. With all of you, because I also heard she had a whole horde of people traveling with her.

"I was going to tell her—tried to, there in the sands around Jehanna Hall—what I had found out about Grado, about Vigarde, and about the Sacred Stones. But we got…sidetracked. I assume that once she knew…she would have told all of you. Or at least some of you."

"Do you trust us with this?"

"If Eirika would have…then I do. Someone has to know, because all of this needs to stop."

Ephraim moved closer to Saleh and began to talk very quietly. He would have preferred it if Kyle had listened, too, but the cavalier seemed preoccupied.

Kyle was watching Forde. He didn't see much purpose in it, and the way he was sitting was making his injured leg alternately throb and go numb, but he felt responsible. They had argued, Forde had ridden away instead of continuing the chain of insults, and now…

"The argument was pointless," Kyle said to no one. He was shocked when a quiet, strained voice answered him.

"Yeah. Thought so, too." Forde was squinting up at him from where he lay on his stomach on the floor of the cart.

"Forde! You don't have to say any—"

"I do. Stop looking like that. You're making me worry." Forde laughed as best he could, but this only deepened Kyle's frown. "C'mon. Can't be that bad." When Kyle didn't answer, Forde's smile faded a little. "Kyle." Kyle flinched.

"It…it is," he muttered quietly, shaking his head. "Forde, listen, I—"

"Nobody died, right?" was the quiet interruption.

"No, of course not."

"See? Not that bad." Forde's smile widened again, though his voice grew weaker. "Stop trying to apologize. I think I owe you one…so let's call us even." Forde laughed to himself as Kyle sighed. "What got you?" Kyle noticed that Forde was looking at his leg.

"I was careless."

"Too serious. Always were."

Before Kyle could say anything else, the cart stopped. This also brought a stop to Saleh and Ephraim's quiet conversation; the prince made his way to the back of the cart as Vanessa and Lute landed behind it.

"What's going on?" Ephraim asked, and Vanessa gave him a tired look.

"We've arrived at the town Seth mentioned. He and Tana and Innes are trying to convince them to let us in." Vanessa sighed. Ephraim noted with interest how she dropped formal titles when she was tired.

He thought for as long a moment as he thought he should allow himself, then pushed the back of the cart open all the way. "Let me see your lance."

"What?" Vanessa had obviously been lost in her own thoughts; Lute had been watching with trepidation as a dragonfly buzzed along. Ephraim swung his legs over the back of the cart and held out his hand.

"Your lance." When Vanessa hesitated, he sighed. "What could convince the people of Renais better than their missing Prince?" He had to smile at the feel of a lance in his hands. Steadying the blunt end on the ground, he hopped off the back of the cart.

"I can think of no other way to demonstrate how much we are in need of assistance," Seth said flatly to the gathering of people at the entrance to the town. "We carry with us the Crown Prince of Renais."

"You are his subjects," Tana added, almost pleading. "Help his army."

"We truly want to believe you," answered one woman. "And you," she continued, looking at Seth, "you are the Silver Knight. But we have heard that Prince Ephraim lies dead in Grado. Two of Emperor Vigarde's most trusted are in command of the castle; we cannot afford to harbor you."

"Emperor Vigarde is dead." Everyone, even Seth and Tana, turned toward the sound of that voice. Leaning heavily on his borrowed lance, Ephraim walked slowly up to stand beside Seth's horse. "I'm not."

"Prince Ephraim!" was the collective gasp from the townspeople. Almost immediately a path was made through the crowd. Ephraim nodded, and Seth rode forward. Tana followed him, and Ephraim chose to walk beside her.

"What possessed you?" she hissed. Ephraim smiled up at her.

"It was the only thing that made sense." He was breathing hard and it hurt to walk like this, but he was walking. "After all, you weren't getting anywhere on your own."

Tana considered pouting about this, but under the circumstances it didn't seem worth it. Ephraim continued walking, and so did Achaeus, but Tana was suddenly very must stopped.

"Emperor Vigarde…is dead?" she asked, stunned.

"That is going to take a bit more explaining." Ephraim shook his head. "Before I relate that long tale again, we need to find a place where everyone in that convoy can rest, and then we need to find an armory."

"Can food come before the armory?" asked a weary Amelia. Ephraim looked back at her; she was grinning.

"By all means."

When Eirika woke again, she was ravenously hungry and there was no light coming in through the window. It took her a few minutes to orient herself again, but once she did she got up off the small sofa and listened. She heard no noise, but that didn't mean there were no people.

Dim starlight filled the room with hazy grey, but it let her find the door. She turned the lock and slipped out, the rusty creak echoing even more in the night than it had in the day. She hurried down the flights of stairs and to the library's least-used entrance. She hesitated before lifting the bar to unlock it—there would probably be guards in the hall—but knew she had to find some food and something to drink or she wouldn't have the strength to do anything else.

She lifted the lock and opened the door barely a crack, scanning the lamp-lit hall. She couldn't see anyone, so she stepped out, closing the door behind her. Her stomach dropped when she heard the bar fall back into place.

She crept along the halls, occasionally happening upon a sleeping guard, or, more often, one who was embarrassingly drunk. Still others were awake and alert, and she never turned down their halls. It would be a longer trip to the kitchen, but she could still get there.

She was completely surprised when something hit her in the back of the head. She sprawled forward, ribs burning, as a sickeningly familiar laugh sounded behind her.

"And you thought we wouldn't notice your absence, dear Eirika?" Valter asked. Eirika looked up at him, particularly at the ugly gash crossing his eye. She knew it wasn't what she should feel, but she was quite proud of having given that to him.

Again her silence enraged him more than words ever could. "We shall simply have to find you a place from which it is far harder to escape." Rough hands lifted her and half-dragged her down halls and down stairs.

The impact on the rough stone floor of the dungeon cell—Renais Castle had only one, and King Fado had been opposed to even that—set her side on fire again. Valter laughed his usual cackle, and the door closed with a clang behind him.

As soon as she thought she could, Eirika drew herself to her knees.

"I apologize for what he does." Eirika stiffened at the voice, at its familiarity, from her past and from the past few days. "He's been corrupted by something he cannot control."

Slowly, Eirika turned. Standing on the other side of the cell, outside the bars, was a face she hadn't thought to see again.

"Lyon?"

He smiled. "Hello, Eirika."

Your thoughts? I think it's going rather well, actually...