Chapter Two: The Whims of Fate
They had arrived in Bulgar only yesterday, and already the oaf was off trouncing with the local village barmaids.
Kent unleashed a string of profanities under his breath as he navigated the bustling town's busy streets. Normally, it would be appalling to hear such curses coming from him, but now, Sain had worked his last nerve. The fool had vanished seconds after leaving the inn that morning, and anyone who knew him didn't have to rack their brain to figure out what he was looking for. And, unfortunately, Sain had no trouble finding it – or rather, her.
The real trouble was locating Sain himself and dragging him away before he started flirting with a woman who didn't take kindly to his lecherous comments.
Kent made a mental note to mortally wound his companion when he found him.
If I find him, the cavalier reminded himself bitterly, turning his hardened gaze left and right. Nothing looked familiar anymore. He repeated his string of curses, now focusing less on his AWOL companion and more on his surroundings. This had been his first visit to Sacae, much less the busy city of Bulgar. It was frighteningly easy to get lost.
And he was most certainly lost.
"Not that it matters," he muttered with a grimace, choosing a random direction and beginning to walk again, "Sain refuses to tell me where he's off to anyway." In any other circumstance, Kent would've most likely just left Sain to his escapades and completed their mission on his own, but this was no ordinary circumstance.
Lord Hausen had received a letter from his daughter, Lady Madelyn, just months before, after almost twenty years of lack of communication. The letter spoke of the life she had found on the plains of Sacae with her husband and daughter, as well as the rest of the tribe she had settled in with. Kent himself had not seen the letter, but the Marquess had been more than happy to announce every detail when he told the citizenry of the news.
For Kent, it had been a refreshing change of pace. Previously, Lord Hausen had been completely indifferent to the situation with his daughter. After the Lady Madelyn had vanished, he had been both furious and depressed. Eventually, talk of his daughter ceased, and she became nothing more than a oil painting on the castle walls.
Upon receiving the letter, however, the Marquess had become ecstatic. He spoke constantly of his granddaughter, a young woman of eighteen that he had never known. Many of the people, though, were convinced that it was not his granddaughter that created such a change in their Marquess, but the fact that his daughter had finally taken the initiative to break the barriers between her and her father.
Lord Hausen was intent on seeing his newfound family, reuniting with his daughter as well as meeting his granddaughter and son-in-law. He made arrangements almost immediately to bring the three to Caelin, as he could not leave his throne to travel to the Plains. Regardless, Madelyn had not mentioned specifics in her letter, so it was not known what part of Sacae she and her family lived in.
Thus, Kent and Sain had been summoned.
They had been sent under direct orders from the Marquess to locate and bring back the family of three. The job was simple... theoretically. They would travel to Sacae, get information about Lady Madelyn and her husband from some of the natives, and find them.
Sain, apparently, didn't have the attention span for that sort of thing.
Kent paused again, stopping short as a flock of four chickens hobbled across his path. They walked single file, clucking cheerfully as if they were children, not poultry. It was amazing that they had been allowed to wander the city, and more amazing still that they hadn't been trampled yet.
"Ah...! Oh no, come back!" A young Sacaen girl shoved her way through the crowd, hastily apologizing to no one in particular. "Please! Ah! Ah! Excuse me! I-I'm sorry; my chickens...! Ohhhh! Father will kill me if they get hurt! Please come back!"
The girl lunged forward, managing to secure her arms firmly around the bird straggling at the end of the line. She fell to the ground, coughing as a cloud of dust flew up around her. Warned by the girl's sudden movements, the other chickens scurried away, raising their wings as if they were panicking. The Sacaen gave a cry of disdain, clinging to the one chicken in her arms as she scrambled to her feet and hurried after the others. "Nooo... Come back!"
Kent frowned, watching the scene play out before him. Finally, his knightly virtues kicked in, and he decided to abandon his search for Sain for the moment. He bent down, scooping up a pair of frenzied birds in one simple move. One thrashed in his grip, squawking angrily as it attempted to free itself. The other, however, didn't seem to have any qualms about being captured. In fact, it studied Kent with unnerving interest, as if the knight fascinated it.
The last chicken ran in a small circle, as if proud to be the last one standing. Kent took a step toward it, only to realize that he had no room to carry it, even if he did succeed in catching it. The free chicken clucked knowingly, taunting the knight before him.
As if sensing this, the calmer bird in his arms wormed its way out of his grip, perching neatly on his right forearm. But, instead of jumping off as he had expected it to, it climbed up to his shoulder, clucking all the way. At first, it seemed content with that spot, but suddenly it changed positions. Kent winced as the bird leapt up, landing gracefully on top of his head.
He didn't know which was worse: the feeling of the bird's claws in his scalp, or standing in the middle of a busy city with a chicken on his head.
Ignoring his rather embarrassing... predicament, Kent approached the last chicken again, this time successfully plucking it off the ground before it even got the chance to realize what had happened. It made a low sound, one eerily similar to a growl, and snapped its beak at its traitorous companion perched on the crimson knight's head.
The girl's face broke out of despair and into relief as she hurried over, clutching her chicken close to her chest. She dipped into a shallow bow, the chicken squeaking in protest as she did so. "Oh! Thank you so much! I was worried I would never be able to catch them!" She was out of breath, the run finally catching up with her as she began to pant lightly. "It's good to see that you are different than the fool I met earlier."
"What?" Kent eyed the girl curiously, already having an idea of who the 'fool' she spoke of was. He handed the chickens in his arms to her, one perching obediently on her shoulder as she took hold of the other, more rebellious bird in her arms. The last hen simply switched persons, hopping from Kent's head to its owner's. "Another knight?"
The girl nodded slowly. "Yes. He was very... odd. Do you know of him?"
As if on cue, Sain shoved his way through the wall of people, not bothering to offer any apologies. He made a beeline for the young girl, but stopped several paces away, as if frightened of her. "M-Miss Mayim... Are... you all right?"
The girl glared, and Kent was vaguely sure she would slap his companion had her arms not already been full. "Yes, Sir Sain, I'm fine. Though I must say you didn't help me much by opening the locks on my chicken's cages!"
The emerald knight winced noticeably. "Ah... Yes, my apologies," he said, staring at the ground. "Yet, you did say that the birds needed some fresh air, and I just simply could not let such a beautiful flower such as yourself wear herself out from work." He smiled at her, trying to quell her anger. "And I must say, not even fury can dull your radiance,"
Mayim opened her mouth to retort, but Kent beat her to the punch. "Sain..." he growled, glaring as his companion looked up at him, "I specifically told you that we have no time for your... sightseeing." He spat the last word as if it were diseased. "We must get the information we need and depart as soon as possible." He turned his gaze back to the Sacaen, his manner softening considerably. "I apologize for any other trouble he has caused you,"
Mayim cocked her head, suddenly intrigued enough by Kent's words that she set her dispute with Sain aside for a moment. "No, no need to apologize," she said, "But... If it's information you seek, I may be able to help you." She shrugged her shoulders in a gesture that indicated the birds covering her body, "After all, I need to repay you for helping me, sir."
"You don't need to repay me for correcting my companion's blunder..." Kent responded slowly, ignoring Sain as the emerald knight rolled his eyes skyward. "But I would appreciate any aid you could give us..."
"I'll gladly help, then. What sort of information do you need?"
"We're looking for a woman named Madelyn," Sain piped up, obviously trying to redeem himself after causing the ruckus with the chickens. "She and her husband... uh..." Sain paused for a moment, racking his brain for a name.
"Her husband, Hassar, and her daughter, Lyndis," Kent finished smoothly, ignoring the death-glare Sain sent his way. "It is urgent that we find them. Do you know where they might be living?"
Mayim's face darkened, and a pained emotion flickered across her features momentarily. "O-Oh..." She looked away, her shoulders slumping slightly. Even the chickens in her arms had gone silent, their beaks chewing on the worn fabric of her dress nervously. "You're looking for... The Lorca tribe..." she murmured.
"Is... something the matter?" Sain asked quietly. His childlike mood had evaporated, replaced by a rarer, more serious Sain. Even he himself knew that now was not the time for antics. It was plain as the eye could see; Mayim knew something that could complicate their mission beyond repair.
Mayim turned back to look at them. "If... you're looking for Madelyn and Chieftain Hassar... I'm afraid you've come six months too late." Both knights stared at her blankly, not catching on to just what she was saying... Or, perhaps, they just didn't want to believe it.
"They, along with the rest of their tribe, were killed by bandits. The Lorca was scattered; there's probably less than ten survivors."
Kent felt the color drain from his face. If Lady Madelyn had passed away six months ago, that meant... She died only days after sending her letter to Caelin.
The Marquess would be crushed.
Mayim shifted uncomfortably, unnerved by the knights' silence. "But, there is a fleck of good news," she said quietly. Both listeners looked up eagerly, hoping for any sort of relief for the burden that would soon be placed on their Marquess's shoulders. "There is a rumor... I don't know if it's true or not, as I am not part of the Lorca, but..." She paused again, trying to form words, "I've heard people saying that the Chieftain's daughter is still alive. That Lyn is living by herself on the plains."
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Cynthia whistled cheerfully to herself as she swung her legs over the side of the bed. Lyn had finally allowed her to get up and walk around two days ago, and the Sacaen had agreed to let them leave this morning. Simply the thought of traveling again was enough to put the apprentice tactician back into a giddy mood.
She reached down, pulling her boots onto her feet. She stood and bounced slightly, checking to make sure the footwear was still snug. Satisfied with that, she set to work on her hair, her hands catching the long, mahogany strands and pulling them back behind her ears. She began to entwine her hair into a tight plait, her fingers dancing behind her as if it were second nature.
She watched Lyn as she worked. The Sacaen was darting about the room like a butterfly, muttering off a list of things that she needed for the trip. She seemed to be getting more irritated with the situation as time passed; every so often she would make a face and curse, indicating she had none of whatever it was she needed.
"We're going to have to stop in Bulgar," Lyn told her friend as she dashed to another corner of the room. "I ran out of vulneraries, and we're going to need more provisions than I have, since there's going to be two of us on this journey." She began her list over again, halting to count each item off on her hands. Every two fingers, her face would contort again and her mouth would emit a profanity.
"That's all right. I don't mind." Cynthia said absentmindedly as she lifted her braid to tie it off at the end. "I've been to Bulgar before. It's a rather nice city, in my opinion." She released her hair, letting the plait swing behind her back. She touched her shoulders, almost self-consciously, then let her eyes drift about the room. "Hey... Lyn?"
"... Yeah?" the Sacaen responded, her voice muffled. She hadn't looked up from her work, and her head was buried in one of the numerous chests pushed up against her wall.
"Was I wearing a cloak when you found me?"
At this, Lyn raised her head to look at the tactician. "Uhm... I think so. Green, right?"
"Uh-huh."
The Sacaen ducked down into the trunk again, her hands tossing aside various articles of clothing. "Yeah, I remember now. Yeah, it's right here." She straightened up, pulling with her an olive-green fabric. She held it out to the tactician, watching as the girl gratefully swung it about her shoulders. She smiled wryly as the traveler seemed to snuggle into the clothing. "Attached to it, I see."
Cynthia blushed, looking down at the fabric around her. "Well... sort of," she admitted, twirling the cloak absently, "It... was a gift..." She fingered the cloth for a moment, a rather nostalgic look coming across her face. She paused for a moment, then shook her head and smiled. "Never mind, it's silly."With that, she leaned over to smooth the covers of Lyn's tiny bed, gently lifting her heavy, leather-bound book into her arms.
Lyn cast a look around the room, choosing to focus more on the journey at hand then her friend's momentary odd behavior. "Well... I don't think there's much else to pack..."
The traveler's smile grew, and she spun on her heel, making a beeline for the door. "Then we might as well go," she said cheerily, pushing aside the cloth door and stepping into the early morning sunlight. "Like you said, we're low on supplies and we need to make the trip to Bulgar."
"... ... But..." Lyn trotted to catch up with her friend, but paused momentarily at the door. She let her eyes travel once more around the room, trying desperately to memorize each and every detail. Everything dear to her, everything she had left... She was about to leave it all behind.
Cynthia stood several feet away, watching the Sacaen silently. She waited patiently, knowing full well what her friend was up to. Her ecstatic smile faded into a solemn one, and she tipped her head gently to the left. "... Lyn...?"
The Sacaen didn't acknowledge that Cynthia had spoken, simply stayed where she was, memorizing her ger's features. There were so many things she longed to take with her, but she knew that it would just meaninglessly weigh them down. But if she brought just one... She hesitated again, then glanced over her shoulder. "Can... you wait for just one minute?" she asked quietly, "I want to get something..."
"Sure."
Nodding swiftly, Lyn disappeared back into the ger. The cloth swung back over the door as she released it, closing off the room from natural sunlight. But... Lyn didn't need light to find what she was looking for.
She drifted over toward her shelving unit, kneeling down so she was level with it. Her fingers drifted over the polished wood almost longingly, as if memories were sealed deep withing the crevices. She lingered for only a second, then reached to the back of the shelf, her hands closing around a small box, the wood light and unpolished. She flicked the top open, revealing a small, sterling chain adorned with one emerald at the clasp. It was an ordinary bracelet, but Lyn treated it as if it were an unreplaceable treasure.
And, to her, it was.
She slipped the chain around her right wrist, maneuvering her hands to work the clasp easily. After a few tries, it clicked into place, and she allowed it to fall limp against her arm. Satisfied, she swept across the room, not giving anything around her a second look.
If she was going to leave this place, she couldn't risk looking at anything else.
"... Are you ready to go?"
Lyn appeared back in the doorway. This time, however, she did not hesitate. She let the cloth door slip from her fingertips and close off the ger. She smiled faintly at her companion, who hadn't moved from her place a stone's throw away. "Yes," she responded, her voice strong, "I'm ready."
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"Ahh, here we are, finally to Bulgar! I was starting to worry if our rations would hold out until now!"
Lyn giggled as her friend bounced ahead of her, obviously ecstatic to be in the town. They had been walking for three days, with no company other than each other. They had run into a few other Sacaens, but the visits had been brief, if not nonexistent.
"We don't have time for sightseeing, Cynthia," the Sacaen reminded her friend gently. "We need to decide where we're headed next, and buy whatever we need for that trip, understand?"
The tactician nodded eagerly, spinning so that she faced her friend. She continued to backpedal, glancing over her shoulder every now and then to prevent herself from running into anyone. "Yeah, yeah, I know," she said with a laugh, "You can decide where we go. I've been almost everywhere already anyway."
"Let's find an inn first," Lyn said, trying to find her bearings in the marketplace. She had been to Bulgar hundreds of times before, but the city was so crowded it always took her a few moments to figure out where exactly she was. Smiling and nodding, she headed off to the right, moving swiftly through the streets. "The inn's this way," she called back, hoping the tactician was right behind her, "We can get a room and go from there."
Cynthia trotted at a steady pace just behind her, her brown eyes wide as saucers as she took in her surroundings. "I've never been here when it's this busy!" she exclaimed, "Wow, I didn't know Sacae had so many people in one place!"
Ahead of her, Lyn scoffed, dodging a small child as he ran past, giggling uncontrollably. "There are lots of places like this in Sacae!" she said, raising her voice over the din of the people around her, "In fact, most tribes have more people than this!"
Cynthia made a sound of pure wonder, but did not continue the conversation. Instead, she let her eyes take in her surroundings, something she had overlooked the other times she had visited Sacae's largest city.
Bulgar was indeed very large and very populous. Sacaens from all over the plains visited Bulgar as a commercial center of sorts. Different tribes mingled together easily here, going about their business and exchanging news with each other all at once. More than a few times, people from other tribes had approached the pair, astounded that Lyn had survived the assault on the Lorca. Cynthia honestly couldn't tell the difference between any of them.
The pair broke out of the marketplace, stumbling out of the sea of people and into the relatively empty town square. A medium-sized fountain was situated in the center, spouting gallon after gallon of pristine water. Rows of buildings surrounded the area, ranging from secluded armories and shops, to the long-sought inn Lyn had spoke of.
The Sacaen led the way, her faithful companion trailing in the same fashion she had when they had walked through the marketplace. Lyn had regained her bearings, moving through the town as if she had lived their all her life. She swung open the door of one of the buildings, and stepped into the lobby of Bulgar's Inn.
About four or five circular tables were placed around the room, surrounded by about six chairs each. They looked worn and weathered, a common trait among inn furniture. A bar was set up in the back of the room, and a shelf behind that, lined with pristine glasses set upside down. A counter was situated near the front of the room, the top covered with papers of all sorts. The lobby was empty, save for one person.
"G'afternoon, ladies!" The innkeeper grinned at them from his place behind the counter, gesturing for them to come closer. "I was startin' to worry if I'd get any customers today!" By the wrinkles on his face, Cynthia assumed he was about middle-aged, though his figure was much nicer than any forty-year-old she had ever met. His eyes were a warm green, matching nicely with his hair and beard. Green seemed to be a distinguishing trait for the Sacaens. "What can I get'cha? A room? Meal?"
"Both," Lyn said pleasantly, "A room for the night and a meal for when we return." Pointing to herself, she continued, "My name is Lyn," she turned and pointed to the brown-haired foreigner beside her, "And this is my companion, Cynthia."
"A pleasure to meet ya' both," the man said with a nod, "Room six, that's yours." He scratched something on one of the papers before him, "That'll be... Three-hundred-eighty gold."
"Thank you, sir," Cynthia said politely, inclining her head in a small bow. She reached into her pocket, drawing out a multitude of gold and silver coins. She deposited them one by one on the counter, smiling brightly. "There you are."
The innkeeper stared at the coins, his eyes flickering over them, counting them. After a moment, he nodded, satisfied, and scooped them into a drawer under the counter. "Pleasure doing business with you, ladies."
Lyn nodded and turned back towards the door without another word, the young tactician following suit almost immediately. They emerged back into the town square, which, oddly, seemed to be even more empty than it had just five minutes before. The only sounds came from the fountain at the center, the water gurgling happily in the warmth of the afternoon.
Lyn looked at her travel companion, opening her mouth to speak. What came, though, was definitely not the Sacaen's voice at all.
"Oh! Be still, my beating heart! What dazzling beauty in such a remote place!"
There was a tell-tale sound of hooves on brick pavement, the rhythm indicating a horse in a light trot. Lyn abandoned whatever she had been about to say, choosing instead to glance curiously to the side. There wasn't anyone else in the town square, so it had been obvious to whom the rather... lecherous comments had been directed to.
And, from whom they had come.
A chestnut stallion pranced toward them, its rider a rather foolish looking man in green armor. He brought his horse to a halt beside the girls, smiling charmingly down at them, "Ahhh, truly you both must be angels from on high! Never have I seen such stunning radiance!"
Lyn cocked her head, folding her arms and raising an eyebrow. "Do I know you?" she asked bluntly. The Sacaen took a step in front of her companion, as if protecting her from a horrible beast.
Cynthia did not protest at all to being protected. In fact, her brown eyes had grown wide, and she did her best to hide behind Lyn's taller form, clinging to older woman's back like a small child in a strange place. But it wasn't the man she was focused on.
It was his horse.
"No, it is a sad state of affairs, but I'm afraid you do not," the man continued, ignoring the eye roll from the Sacaen on the ground. "But, truly, it must be Fate that has brought us together on this day! Such beautiful women as yourselves should not be traveling alone! Most certainly not!"
Cynthia poked her head over Lyn's shoulder, tearing her eyes away from the animal, and to the man in the saddle. She cocked her head, mimicking Lyn's earlier movements almost exactly. "He's a knight..." she said quietly, indicating the lance strapped to the saddle.
The man seemed to grow even more ecstatic upon hearing that. He turned his horse so that he could get a better look at the trembling tactician, who gave a small yelp as the animal approached her. The knight didn't seem to notice.
"Fair maiden!" he began enthusiastically, bowing slightly in his saddle, "You are correct! I am indeed a gallant knight of Lycia. I hail from the proud territory of Caelin, home to men of passion and fire!"
Lyn scowled, grabbing her friend's arm and dragging her behind her again. "Shouldn't that be: 'home to callow oafs with loose tongues'!" she demanded hotly, "Honestly! And here I believed that Lycia's knights were honorable men!"
"Sain!" Cynthia flinched as the new voice was accompanied by the sound of pounding hooves. Another knight pulled up beside the first, this one adorned with red armor. He pulled his horse in front of his companion's, turning to face the women on the ground. "My apologies, ladies," he said wearily, running a hand through his hair.
Lyn's anger seemed to quell a bit, satisfied that not all hope was lost for Lycia's knights. She placed her hands on her hips. "Thank you," she said, her voice stiff, "I'm glad there are still some knights who know the meaning of virtue."
He didn't respond. He simply watched as the girls made their way around the knight's horses and walked away, disappearing into the stream of people that led to the market place.
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"That girl..."
Sain grinned, taking the muttered comment as an indication of something completely different. "Quite a beauty, wasn't she? Sacaen blood gives women that exotic charm, I think." He tapped his chin, falling into his own twisted musings, "And the other one? Quite a catch, too, I must say. Though, still, her Sacaen friend outshines her. The little one couldn't have been Sacaen, a bit too plain for that. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she was Lycian, but..." Again, a grin formed on his lips, "I haven't seen a girl to match her beauty in all of Lycia."
"You say that about every woman you meet, Sain." Kent wasn't in the mood for reprimanding his friend, and Sain was taking advantage of every second of it. And, for the moment, the crimson knight couldn't care less.
There was something about that girl...
"Sain... Did you get a good look at that young woman's face?" Kent asked suddenly, snapping Sain out of his lecherous thoughts. "Was there something... odd about her?"
"Odd?" The emerald knight cocked his head, racking his brain for anything that seemed out of place. "Well, maybe. Her skin was rather fair for a Sacaen; most are tanned dark. That and the angles of her face were much softer than most Sacaen's. In fact, her face resembled her companion's in a way..."
For the first time in his life, Kent was thankful for his friend's womanizing.
It was then that he realized just why the girl had seemed so familiar. He had seen that face many, many times before. Except, when he had seen it, it had been framed by the shimmering chestnut hair of the Lady Madelyn in her portraits, not the forest green hair of a young Sacaen..
But, if those pictures were any indication, that girl had to be, without a doubt, Lady Madelyn's beloved child.
"Let's go, Sain," Kent said flatly, nudging his horse into a trot. "We've got to find her."
Sain hesitated for a moment, surprised at the sudden order. He urged his horse to move forward at a pace that left him a beat behind his companion. "What? Why?"
Kent didn't look back, simply chose to scan the crowd for the woman's companion, it would be easier to find a head of brown hair in a sea of green, rather than the green itself. "Just look at her face," he explained, "She looks so much like..."
Sain finally caught on, pulling his horse beside Kent's. "What! Really? That girl is..."
"Yes! Now, hurry! Help me find her!"
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"Are we done? I feel like we've been shopping forever."
Lyn nodded briskly, dropping the last bit of vulneraries into her satchel. She went over the list in her head, then nodded again, adding a smile to the movement. "Yes, that should be everything. We should have enough provisions to get us to Ilia with some left over."
Cynthia returned the smile, trailing the Sacaen as they made their way through the marketplace. The busy part of the day had ended and the stands were beginning to close. The people filed out as fast as they had come, leaving the entire market relatively empty.
"I've been meaning to ask you, Lyn..." the tactician began, "Why did you pick Ilia?" She waited a beat, and her friend didn't respond. "It's not that I'm against going there," she continued slowly, "I just never thought that those from Sacae would be interested at all in Ilia."
"Well... normally, we aren't," Lyn said, speaking slowly as if she was choosing her words carefully. "But I have a friend in Ilia... I haven't seen her in a while and I thought it might be nice to pay her a visit instead of the other way around."
"Oh. I see."
The pair walked on in a comfortable silence. Cynthia hummed lightly to herself, closing her eyes and tipping her head back. She never imagined that shopping could wear one out, but it had indeed. She couldn't wait for a good, inn-cooked meal and a comfortable bed.
"Hey... Cynthia."
"Hm?" The tactician opened her eyes, looking back at the Sacaen ahead of her. Lyn had stopped moving and was pointing to something that Cynthia couldn't see. "... What is it, Lyn?"
"... Aren't those the knights from before?" Lyn asked, irritation worming into her voice. "Are they... following us?"
Cynthia stepped forward, peering around the booth that had been blocking her vision. Just as Lyn had said, the two Lycian knights from before were situated not too far away, but neither of them seemed to be looking in their direction. "... No, I don't think so. They look like they're trying to find something, though."
Just as she spoke, the green knight turned, his eyes falling exactly on the two girls. His face seemed to light up, and he turned eagerly to his companion, pointing at them as he spoke. The red knight turned, and he located them fairly easily as well. Relief seemed to cross his face, and almost immediately, the two kicked their horses into a trot.
Lyn grimaced. "Yeah, they were looking for something all right. Us." She turned, grasping Cynthia's wrist and pulling her in the opposite direction. "Come on, I don't want to bother with them right now."
"W-Wait! Lyn! Where are we going?"
The Sacaen nodded towards the gate, gesturing with her free hand. "We're just going to act like we're leaving. Maybe hide in a bush or something. They'll think we left and give us some peace and quiet."
"But, Lyn..."
Bulgar never closed its gates. Most Sacaens were trained in the ways of battle, whether it be with a bow or a sword, so the entire town could take up arms against bandits if need be. At night, as an extra precaution, two guards were stationed at the entrance. Now, though, the sun was still a ways away from the horizon, and there was still quite a bit of light left in the day.
The girls exited the town, and Lyn veered to the left, headed for a patch of bushes. Even Cynthia had to agree, it was pretty much a flawless plan. As long as the knights didn't go searching for them, and they didn't allow themselves to be seen, it was likely they'd be able to give them the slip.
But, it seemed Fate wasn't done playing with them yet.
"Go on, it'll be better if we separate. It's easier to hide one person in a bush than two."
Cynthia grudgingly obeyed, taking a deep breath and diving into the foliage as if it were a pool of water. She expected the sting of small branches and twigs digging into her. She expected the irritating feeling of leaves in her hair. What she didn't expect was her head colliding with something soft and warm.
Cynthia yelped and sat up straight, her hands massaging her skull gently as a stinging pain permeated from where she had bumped her head. But, before she could even question what had happened, she felt her body being shoved backwards, and something cold press against her throat. Her eyes shot open, taking in the form of a sneering bandit, his axe pressed to her neck and his free hand holding her down.
Apparently, she had tried to steal his hiding spot.
"Not a word, little girl," the brigand snarled, grinning as she whimpered under the weight of his axe. "You scream an' off goes yer head!" His grin transformed into a mock-pout, and his voice took on a nasally imitation of pity. "Such ah shame. You a pretty one, ain't 'cha? I could sell you for a pretty penny, I could."
"Unhand her, vile villain!"
There was a flash of steel in sunlight, and the squelch of a weapon making its mark. The pressure on Cynthia's throat loosened, and the hand fell away from her chest. She let her eyes open to a crack, and gasped at the bloody sight before her.
The bandit had slumped to the side, a glimmering sword protruding from his chest. The blade was stained with blood, but what little was left clean winked at her in the late afternoon sun. The brigand's axe had fallen limp; he hadn't even gotten the chance to register the attack, much less try to counter it.
"Are you all right, Fair Maiden?"
Cynthia looked up, her eyes meeting the grinning face of the green knight from before. This time, however, he was without his mount, apparently having chosen to rescue her on foot. She nodded dumbly, astounded at the recent turn of events. He returned the favor, then reached over her and grabbed the hilt of his sword. He tugged it free, grimacing at the crimson coat of blood it sported. "You see? I told you that beautiful girls such as yourselves shouldn't travel alone."
Cynthia stared blankly, her mouth unable to form complete sentences. He returned the sword to its sheath, then offered her a hand. She took it gratefully, and he helped her to her feet. She felt blood rush from her head, and she touched a hand to her temple to steady herself. "H-How did you know... where I was?" she gasped finally, staring up at him again, wide-eyed.
"Why, your beautiful Guardian Angel told me," he said proudly. He gestured with his right hand, and her eyes fell on the form of Lyn, her sword out and covered with blood. The other knight was beside her, still in his saddle, and seemed to be arguing with her. Not too far from where they were standing was another horse, chewing idly on the grass at its feet.
Sain cocked his head, studying the tactician for a moment. "... You are all right?" he asked again, "You're dreadfully pale."
"... Y-Yes, I'm fine," Cynthia said, swallowing hard. "Just... a little shaken..."
"Cynthia!" Lyn had spun around, recognizing the faint sound of her friend's voice. The Sacaen dropped whatever conversation she had been having with the knight and sprinted over, stopping a short distance away. "You're all right!"
"... Yes." Cynthia forced a weak smile, and gestured to the man beside her. "He... saved me."
Lyn glanced up at the knight. She narrowed her eyes briefly, but bowed her head in a gesture of gratitude. "... Thank you."
"Ah!" Cynthia, realizing she had forgotten, immediately ducked into a much lower bow, her hair sliding over her shoulder and coiling on the ground. "Yes! Thank you so much! I-I owe you my life!"
Sain grinned, soaking up every moment of the positive attention. "No need for gratitude, my angels! Your man-at-arms Sain will always be here to protect you!"
"Sain, that's enough!" The crimson knight rode up beside them, his face serious. "There are others we still need to take care of, remember?"
"Yes! Right!" Sain paused to give the girls one final, sweeping bow, then hurried off in the direction of his horse. He seemed ecstatic at the thought of a battle, and swung swiftly into his saddle. He drew his lance and pointed it into the trees, a triumphant grin on his face. "If it is a battle they seek, a battle they shall have!"
Lyn bristled at this, her hand tightening around her sword hilt. She lifted it to shoulder-level, pointing it menacingly at the emerald knight several feet away from her. "No!" she shouted, her voice seething, "I told you this over and over again! This is my battle, and you will stay out of it!"
Sain pouted, lowering his lance and turning to look at her. "But..."
The other knight glanced down at her, folding his arms thoughtfully. "Surely there must be something we can do to assist," he said quietly, "Is it possible to compromise?"
"There is a way, I think..." All three turned their attention to the shaken girl on the sidelines. Now, though, the color had returned to her cheeks, and she didn't seem frightened by the bandits any longer. Instead, she was eyeing Kent's stallion warily. "I... I can give you orders," she said, "I'm a tactician. I can balance it out so Lyn gets to fight and you get to help." She turned her gaze to the fuming Sacaen, "... Is that all right, Lyn?"
The plainswoman scowled, "I suppose it will do. These knights are so stubborn; I guess there's no other way."
Sain gave a cheer, lifting his lance into the air once more.
"It's agreed, then." The crimson knight nodded, "We will have the young lady command us." He turned to Cynthia, and indicated the green knight prancing around in circles on the grass, "That is Sain," he said, "And my name is Kent. Order us as you will."
The traveler nodded. "All right, then. My name is Cynthia. I assume you and Lyn have already met." The Sacaen in question snorted at that comment, and Kent only nodded solemnly. Sain called something about knowing their names before he even laid eyes on them.
–;.;–;.;–;.;–;.;–
Cynthia situated herself behind Lyn, watching as the knights took their places on her flanks. Satisfied, she scanned the area, searching for the remaining bandits. According to Lyn, the brigands had been planning a raid on Bulgar, and were hiding in the bushes until nightfall. Apparently, Cynthia wasn't the only one who had run into a brigand in her attempt to hide.
"There. You see him?" Lyn pointed vaguely with her hand, indicating a cluster of trees. At first, the tactician saw nothing, but then there was the glint of sun on steel. It lasted only a moment, but it was easily identified.
"There's that one, and then there's their leader." Lyn grimaced pointing somewhere further back, "As much as I hate to admit it, he looked a little too tough for me to handle on my own."
"Okay..." Cynthia turned over possibilities in her mind. The easiest, she decided, would be to send one of the knights after the first bandit, and then send the other to go with Lyn and strike down the leader.
The question was: Which knight went where?
"Sain!"
The emerald knight bobbed his head, eager for orders. "I am at your command, my Fair Maiden!" he responded, "Just ask and I will obey!"
Cynthia rolled her eyes, a small smile forming on her lips. "Sain, I need you to take out the bandit in the trees. There." She pointed where Lyn had said the first bandit was. The knight gave a sharp nod and nudged his horse forward, brandishing his lance like some storybook hero.
"Lyn, Kent." The last two members of her little militia glanced at her, ready to be dispatched. "You two cross the bridge and engage their leader. When Sain is done, I'll have him help you out."
"Right." Lyn sprang forward, dashing with her hand on her sword like she had done in their first battle. Kent followed suit, urging his horse into a gallop. Cynthia followed as well, but at a much slower pace, so as not to draw attention to herself.
Sain slowed his horse only slightly when he reached the cluster of trees. He had located the bandit fairly easily once he had gotten close; brigands never were bright enough to hide themselves well. "Coward!" he shouted into the brush, lifting his lance threateningly, "Come out here and fight!"
There was a snarl, and the bandit leapt from the depths of the brush. He swung his axe downward, making an attempt at a haphazard cut down the front of Sain's steed. The emerald knight tugged hard on his reins, forcing the horse to rear. The bandit roared as his axe plunged downward, missing its target completely, and dug deep into the earth below.
Sain pulled his reins again, this time to turn the horse mid-rear, so that its hooves had a clear place to land. He brought his lance down at an angle, aimed directly for the brigand's back. The weapon, however, met only steel as the brigand tore his axe from the earth and intercepted Sain's lance. The two fought for dominance over the other, but it did not last long.
The bandit's axe overpowered Sain's lance, knocking it away like a pesky fly. Taking the opportunity, the bandit leapt forward, this time aiming his axe at the knight himself. Sain pulled his horse away in a last attempt to dodge, but the axe nicked him, cutting beneath his armor and into his side.
The emerald knight cursed as his horse tore away, circling back for a charge. Blood poured at a steady, throbbing rate, creating a crimson trail behind him. The bandit didn't chase after him, simply stood where he was. He grinned at the knight, spreading his arms out as if daring him to try again.
And try again he did.
Sain kicked his horse again, this time pushing it into full gallop. Another kick, and the stallion knew to charge. It lowered its head, giving the rider ample room to wield his lance, and Sain positioned his weapon at just the right spot.
The bandit raised his defenses. He lifted his axe, as if intending to cut down the horse before Sain was even in range. He didn't, however, take into account the sheer length of the knight's weapon, leaving him completely prone to attack.
Sain took advantage of the bandit's ignorance, leaning forward and plunging his lance heavily into the criminal's shoulder. The brigand gave a strangled cry, clawing at the weapon lodged in his body. Sain grimaced, grasping the lance's handle, and tore it violently free as his horse charged past. The bandit fell to the ground, screaming, clutching the wound in a futile attempt to stop the bleeding.
Within seconds, he fell limp.
Sain circled back, letting his horse slow down its pace. His adrenaline rush gone, the full force of his wound hit him. He cursed under his breath, sliding the lance back into its holster, and gripped his side tightly with one hand. His breathing had become ragged, and warm blood still gushed at a steady pace from his wound.
"Sain!" The emerald knight looked up, the tactician's voice reaching his ears. She was standing several feet away, her hands cupped around her mouth. "Sain, are you all right!"
"Y-Yes! No need to worry!" He gently looked down at his hand, grimacing at the amount of blood that coated his palm. Truly, it had not been a very deep cut, and it would not bleed for much longer, but it certainly did bleed a lot.
"Sain!" She shouted again, drawing his attention away from the wound and back to her. "Cross the bridge and find Kent and Lyn! Get a vulnerary from them first, then help them fight the leader!"
He nodded to show he understood, and tugged on his reins with his free hand. The horse snorted, lifting its head from the ground where it had been snacking while its master was preoccupied. It picked up its pace with a silent order from Sain, crossing the bridge and galloping toward where the final battle was being held.
–;.;–;.;–;.;–;.;–
Lyn ducked as the leader swung frantically at her. She and Kent had been wearing him down over the course of a few minutes, and the battle was turning out to be relatively easy. He wasn't coordinated enough to deal with two enemies at once, and found himself time and time again open to attack from one while he was busy trying to cut down the other.
This was one such time.
Again she dodged one of his frenzied swings, this one missing her side by a large margin. She raised her blade into a defensive position, and he swung again, colliding roughly with her weapon. Like before, his strength was far greater than her own, and would overpower her easily given enough time.
But before, she didn't have a partner to get her out of such messes.
Kent's steed whinnied loudly as it charged past, almost as if it could feel victory about to be taken. The crimson knight's sword made contact with the bandit leader's back, digging deeply into his flesh. The bandit roared in pain, his axe releasing its hold on Lyn's blade, and giving her the perfect opportunity to end his misery.
She thrust her sword forward, the blade sinking deeply into the leader's chest, piercing his heart in one fell swoop. He doubled over Lyn's sword, his only last words an unintelligible fit of coughing before he finally fell silent.
"A fine battle, milady." Kent returned on his steed, sheathing his sword with a metallic hiss. "You handle your sword well."
"... Thank you." Lyn pulled her sword free, kicking the limp body away as she drew it out. "You're very good yourself."
"Ahhh, my lovely angel! Such a spectacular display! Never in my life have I seen such graceful beauty!" Sain announced his arrival, once again, guiding his stallion in a gentle trot. Though his voice was as energetic as ever, the emerald knight himself was worse for wear. His left hand was planted firmly on a wound on his side, and his face looked pale and weary.
Kent urged his horse forward, riding beside his companion, "Sain, were you injured?"
"Ah, yes..." Sain lifted his hand, revealing the blood-soaked wound underneath. "It is just a scratch, but I'm under direct orders from our lovely tactician to dress it. And, of course, it would be discourteous to gray that beautiful chestnut hair from worry!"
Kent rolled his eyes, leaning over to reach a pack strapped to his saddle. He brought out a small bag, and handed it to the knight beside him. "Here. Drink the liquid vulnerary. We'll wrap it up with a normal one in a moment."
Sain grinned, already digging into the tiny bag. "Yes, Mother," he chuckled, bringing out a tiny clay bottle. He downed it in a single swig, and replaced the flask where he had found it. "Ahh, thank you, Kent! Already I feel ready for another wave of those villains!"
"Don't curse us, Sain, I'd rather not have to deal with brigands at night," Lyn said flatly. Her fears were well-founded, as the sun had already begun its trek beneath the horizon, casting a faint shade of blue over the Sacae plains. They would have to leave soon if they didn't want trouble with the city guards.
But, the guards were the last things on the Sacaen's mind. "Sain, do you know where Cynthia is?" Lyn asked absently, sliding her sword back into its sheath.
"I'm right here." The tactician in question appeared out of the darkness, appearing slightly winded, as if she had been running for a long time. "Sorry to worry you." She smiled sheepishly, lifting her cloak to show the others a shallow rip in the fabric, "I got caught on a root."
Lyn shook her head, a smile forming on her lips for the first time in over an hour. Now that Cynthia was back, she could move on to the next thought plaguing her. One that had been nipping the back of her mind the entire battle.
"Now, before we do anything else..." Lyn placed her hands on her hips, turning a hardened gaze on the two knights before her. "Why were you two looking for us?" she demanded, "Why did you follow us?"
Kent frowned solemnly, and swung out of his horse's saddle. He remained at the stallion's side, preoccupying himself with checking the saddle's straps and buckles. Finally, he sighed heavily, stopping his work and looking over at the Sacaen woman. "Your name... is Lyndis, is it not?"