CHAPTER FOUR | Complex Web
A/N: Told you update will be soon.
BERN CAPITAL | The Tactician Guild
Anko wandered inside a wyvern stable that was ridiculously situated in the middle of nowhere in a forest of the capital—what an odd, odd place to keep a wyvern. Most of the wyvern knights of Bern kept their wyverns in the royal stables—not in the middle of a forest, not at all.
The inhabitant of that stable was missing, though. All that remained were stacks of hay and a single cot for the man who slept there—ridiculous man, sleeping near his mount—and then there was the crate of carrots the wyvern loved to indulge in. Anko never knew why she agreed to this. Or why she even volunteered it, to be exact. She could not imagine her father's reaction to having a wyvern stable built on top of the entirely underground Tactician Guild. Well, at least the Guild now had an easy landmark for their members to spot.
The cry of a hawk came to break the silence, and then Anko turned to see the bird perching onto the stable's open window.
"Ah. There you are," said Anko softly, as she approached the hawk, noticing the small rolled note tied to its leg. She pulled the note out, and read it to herself.
Currently in Araphen. Was not aware that we were going to Lycia. Lord Hector of Ostia alive. At least for now. His wounds are grave. Lycia in ruins. Don't know when the return will be. Probably tomorrow or late this evening. Am not permitted to leave the Keep yet. Military exercises and activities too many. Will clean the stable when I can. -H.
Anko reread the note again, and then shoved it into her pocket. Tomorrow or late this evening. Quite positively, it would have to be tomorrow. The travel would take that long. But then again, it depended on what had to be done in Araphen in the first place. Definitely a military attack, but of what kind? For what cause? The note did not include an answer to those questions. And, if it were this evening, then the meeting had to be finished quickly, and all their guild's members taken care of. Zephiel must not know they ever set foot on Bern soil.
And for a second, Anko's thoughts turned lighter as she caught a good whiff of the sable. Eww. Come back soon, Heath, and clean up this mess. I am NOT cleaning after Hyperion.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Jaffar spectacularly and flawlessly smuggled Kumiko out of her own castle. The act of going away in secret was absolutely necessary—because though Kumiko was Queen, the loyalty of much of the castle was on their King. Anyone could tell on her. In fact, Kumiko felt that strict orders were given to watch over her, but the skill of those men where simply nothing in comparison to the man once called "Angel of Death". Jaffar.
To the queen, he was an invaluable ally, along with his wife Nino. She could go into the most dangerous places she could think of with only Nino and Jaffar and believe they would be safe. Nino's mastery of magic was without parallel, as was Jaffar's prowess in battle. They were her best friends, attendants, and at the same time, bodyguards.
"You made it." Anko didn't seem surprised the moment she opened the door for the queen. There was a chill outside, thus Kumiko and Jaffar were garbed heavily. The queen wore a white velvet coat with a hood and Anko couldn't help but snicker when she thought that it was such an expensive coat, anyone would have to be blind to not realize that no one but the queen could have possibly worn it. The guards they kept at the Keep were certainly blind if she had slipped past them. Or, Jaffar was just that good.
"I see you even have your bodyguard with you."Anko glanced up to Jaffar, regarding him with a smug smile, to which Jaffar furrowed his eyebrows ever so slightly in question. He has never changed—never one to make small talk and awkward when people paid him attention. For the most part, he would not care for whatever Anko said about him, and her remarks must be innocent—however, she was a spy, and her work was not far from the one he was familiar with, so they tended to look at each other as challenges.
"Anko," Kumiko began, as she entered the receiving room of the guild, Jaffar following her movements very closely, closing the door behind them. "You're going to get me out of trouble with the king on this one, aren't you?"
"Has he arrived yet?" Anko asked.
Kumiko shook her head. "No, but I don't know if that would make me feel glad or not."
"Well, I'm sure I can think up of something to save my own skin for this one," Anko said. "After all, I don't think you'll get in much trouble for this. Unless you make the trouble for yourself. But I think the king won't have you killed no matter what—but my head he can have at any day. I am much worried for myself because of this meeting."
I however, think the opposite, Kumiko thought. He could kill me any day—YOU, however, are an invaluable ally to him and someone he cannot do without.
Before Kumiko could say something, Anko said, "I'm going to go fix something warm to drink for you and Jaffar here," and excused herself from the room.
So Kumiko turned to Jaffar. The man regarded her with a seemingly blank look which would have made another feel awkward, but Kumiko was much used to it. "Jaffar, thank you for sneaking me out of the castle," she said, "You can leave me here now. If His Highness finds both of us missing, he will immediately link you as responsible for it. I want you to stand by Nino as well. She is much safer with you."
Jaffar nodded. He agreed that that was sound and logical. But… "How will you return to the castle?" he asked.
When she was silent for longer than he wanted, he rephrased the question, "Kumiko... will you ever return to the castle?"
"Perhaps. I shall think of it," she answered. "If I want to return, I'll find my way. I probably will, but I am not in the best of moods now. But, don't worry for me. I'll be perfectly fine here in the Guild."
Jaffar knew that—of course, Kumiko will be absolutely fine in their guild stronghold, under Anko's protection as well. What he was worried about, though, was Kumiko losing favor with Zephiel. "...The king is always looking for you," he said. "What if he arrives and finds that you are missing?"
"If worse comes to worst, just tell him I am here at the Guild. That would make him turn to Anko. But he trusts Anko a fair amount, so she'll be safe. He has always allowed me to visit the Guild as often as I pleased, anyway."
"…Something tells me that now is not part of those times where His Majesty will allow you to go and do as you please."
Kumiko sighed, getting a bit irritated. Jaffar had agreed to lead her here—what was the matter with him now? "Jaffar, you don't have to worry. I'll be perfectly safe."
Jaffar gave a few plaintive blinks—Kumiko was not understanding his point at all. I know you will be safe. I just doubt Nino and I will be if you lose the king's favor. "Come back soon, Kumiko. That is all I ask."
And then he took leave.
"He's gone?" Anko's voice carried as she entered the receiving room once again, holding a cup of soup. "Pity. You should have at least let him take a sip."
"He had to. He must be there to look over his wife. Anyway," Kumiko said as she took a bowl of soup from Anko, taking it for herself and sipping it, "Where are the others?"
Anko grinned. "All there in the meeting room. Waiting for you."
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
The Tactician Guild—composed of individuals both intelligent and cunning. All tacticians, all with a mastery of war and battle tactics. Some fighters, some spies, some mages, and one, a queen.
But one thing was clear. All of them made money through war.
Kumiko walked into the meeting room—more precisely, the dining room—and found five individuals seated there on the old, moldy dining table of wood, pondering an issue or the other. When she entered, all those five faces turned towards her, and the weatherbeaten, aged faces of her friends greeted her.
Fifteen years... is such a long time.
"...Nice to have you, Your Highness," The greeting came from Xarin, spy of Ostia, but it came with no cheer at all, the greeting almost sounding sarcastic. But that was how Xarin was. Always one to sound sour. She looked the part, too, Kumiko noted in a moment of wicked humor. She seemed weary from travel, deep brown hair a bit of a mess, the edges of her lips pulling down to a dangerous frown. And did she actually smell like wine? Ah, the cold beauty of the Guild, Xarin. Still the same. Aged yet beautiful, but still the same. Still a lethal spy, no doubt.
She ignored the seemingly barbed greeting from the spy, as Anko ushered her to a seat on the dining table, and Bern's very own Master Spy proceeded to scoop out hot chicken broth for the members of her guild. Anko would, in her very own home, never seemed like the country's Master Spy living in a web of intrigue. She was a homeowner, and that was that. She has done her fair share of aging herself. But Kumiko has seen the spy all along those fifteen years, and so she was less shocked of the changes in her features—the lines in her face, the occasional grey in her hair... not surprising at all.
Kumiko turned to Knarrd and Miguel, Magic Advisor and Military Advisor to Etruria, respectively. They had turned to face each other and Kumiko found that they were actually caught in a game of cards, no doubt to pass time. Miguel, the brash brute of the Guild, still looked the part—his lengthy hair and beard seemed to grow thicker from the last time Kumiko saw him, and he frequently had that expression of grunt on his face that reminded Kumiko of Ostia's Lord Hector. A man who, once having found a reason to fight, fights to the end. That was the kind of man Miguel was. He has gotten bigger over the years, all those years as a Knight. He was such a sharp contrast to Knarrd-small, silent, calm. He was, eerily, the only person on the Guild who did not seem to age much. And effect of the Magics, Knarrd says. His continued use of the dark arts or one thing or the other related to it has made way for this.
Jenro, Military Advisor to Pherae, Lycia, was seated beside Xarin and trying to occupry her attention with a discussion about his latest writing endeavor. Ah, Jenro. The Guild's very own scholar. He was still the same—still in that same lanky body drowned in clothes. His thick glasses were a standard, and his dark hair perpetually styled wildly showed only a few signs of grey, as he was actually one of the younger tacticians, just about Kumiko's age.
And lastly, Mark, their leader, the "Famed Genius" sat at the head of the table, silently scanning on some notes in his logbook. His brown hair was cut and styled neatly—he must have just had it cut recently—and his eyes looked tired but alert behind his glasses. In an odd way, Kumiko was reminded of Alecto, their mentor who was long passed, and it seemed that Mark, with each passing year, has grown to become like him. Kumiko admits, Mark is the better—no, the best—tactician among them all. His leadership skills were also to be praised, but he garners no glorious fame, not like the fame she received. "Because I'm a man," Mark used to say. "It's natural for men to have knowledge in tactics, so if ever you do well, not a lot of people notice it."
Kumiko gazed around the hall again one last time as she took her seat beside Mark. It had been so long, she thought. Far too long since their group had been together like this. The last time was probably fifteen years ago, when their mentor died. And even back then they had been distant to each other. It had been so long—the time when they were all a family. They were all tacticians now, for their own countries. Much had to be talked about. Would that awfully long time apart each other make them fonder of each other now? Or would it only result in dissention and separation? Miguel, hot-headed as ever, might want separation. Xarin would always see the negative in everything. Knarrd would only second whatever Miguel said. And Anko would always be unpredictable-
"We're still missing Nerisa," Mark told Kumiko as she settled herself. "I believe she'll have a wonderful excuse such as a hailstorm up her sleeve when she gets here," he said, as he looked up to her with an easy smile.
Kumiko giggled—Mark at least was a relief to see. They had been like siblings and they were most close—he had been like a brother to her. And he had never changed. Neither war nor tactics can ever change Mark, she thought. And he was their leader. Despite Anko technically "owning" the Guild since they were once looked over by her father, the responsibility of leading them was specifically passed onto Mark. A quiet calm entered Kumiko as she realized, Mark would never let their group fall apart. Never.
And finally in a few moments, Nerisa arrived, with such daft excuse in tow as Mark predicted. And then all took their seats, and Mark spoke:
"Well, since we're all here, I think it is appropriate for this meeting to commence now."
And with that statement the members straightened, all eyes on Mark. Chats stopped, the food was set aside, and Anko, who was serving, finally took a seat, opting to sit apart from them, beside the low table she had set to hold the food. It was almost as if she were refusing to sit with them, Kumiko noted, displaying where her loyalty was already. Kumiko was not the only one to notice it. She actually saw Xarin give the quickest threatening sidelong glance at the other spy.
"Though I'd love to have chit-chats with all of you,"-Mark fixed his glasses and began,-"we all know business comes first. We are here to discuss the details of this current war that Bern is waging on the entire continent. First off, I want reports from everyone. I want to hear from Lycia."
Jenro, tactician to Pherae, said, "Lycia is the recent target of Bern, so war wages at every mountain border. The dukes of Lycia, headed by Lord Hector of Ostia, would have immediately formed the Lycia alliance army, but..."
"But for all we know…" Xarin drifted off, and then continued, "Well, the supposedly meeting in Araphen of the dukes was attacked by Bern. The Lycia Alliance Army is now headed by Roy, son of Lord Eliwood of Pherae, but he gets little if no help from the other dukes—or what remains of the other dukes. Basically, everyone just cares for their own land and not for Lycia as a whole. If this goes on, Lycia will fall."
"W-Wait," Kumiko interrupted, noticing a hole in Xarin's statements. "Lord Hector?" she asked. "Why can't Lord Hector lead the Alliance? Why must Roy do it? Where is Lord Hector?"
Xarin looked at Kumiko gravely, and said, "Bern led a surprise attack on the meeting of the dukes in Araphen… and then attacked Castle Ostia. I survived Araphen… but I am not sure of the others. Including Lord Hector... I cannot be sure if he is well, but we're heard nothing from him…"
Shock took Kumiko along with a gasp, and she sunk deeper into her chair, whispering, "No…"
"…I have just received information that Lord Oswin is dead," Xarin continued. "We couldn't find Serra, and I honestly wish her well. Lady Lyndis died trying to defend Castle Ostia."
Xarin's statements wore on her more and more, and Kumiko neared tears. While she knew from Matthew's letter that Ostia's Lady Lyndis had passed, she had hoped that not almost everyone from Ostia that she held dear… "And Matthew?" Kumiko managed to ask. "I know Matthew. If he were safe, he would come with you here. Where is he?"
"He's wounded gravely, in a way that might render his entire right arm useless." Xarin consciously avoided glancing at Anko, knowing she couldn't give much away. Matthew was probably Lycia's Master Spy, and an asset, even while unable to fight much. "His skills probably wouldn't be the same, ever. I've been trying to kick some sense into him, but no luck." Xarin said, intentionally being more negative. She thought otherwise, though. She knew the wound would be nothing to a master cleric, and she knew Matthew would never rest knowing that he hasn't done anything to avenge Ostia.
Kumiko, however, bought her words. All eyes were on her, as she shook her head, as if willing to prevent tears from flowing by the action. "Oh… Who… Who lead the attack on Araphen and Ostia? I want to know!"
"You wouldn't want to know," Jenro said.
Anko knew the answer, but kept her mouth shut. Xarin was the one who answered. "General Narshen of Bern led it, but your husband was there in Araphen, making sure everything goes as planned.."
"Damn him!" Kumiko yelled, slamming her fists in the table as she did. Everyone else was startled and gasped as Kumiko's tears of mixed anger and mourning poured down. She shuddered and sobbed, not knowing what to feel.
"Kumiko, please..." Mark spoke, tone clearly worried, as he got up and gathered the woman in his arms, and pulled her back to her seat. He didn't stop stroking her and she didn't stop crying when he said, "I'll hear from Ilia."
Nerisa sighed before speaking, taking in the atmosphere that the meeting was slowly taking. "Seriously, Mark. Ilia-everything to that snowy country is now under Bern. The Pegasus Knights are still putting up their best resistance, but no luck so far. Many of our Knights and Mercenaries are gone. We've never had the numbers, so that is nothing but bad news. We've given up on resistance for now, if only to stop the dwindling of our numbers. But that doesn't mean there is peace in Ilia. Homes are ruined. Coffers are ransacked. Contracts are manipulated by Bern. They guard our borders well, so we can't even sneak out to fulfill our contracts. A few do, and they must consider themselves truly lucky. Everything is just genereally... so horrible..."
Nerisa looked near to tears as well, her statements drifting off into quiet sobbing. Mark felt the pain in his heart grow as the conversations went on. Kumiko, in his arms, was also sobbing, but she was slowly starting to gather heself. "And from Etruria?" he asked, turning to Knarrd and Miguel.
"We are trying hard to remain neutral," said Miguel, "And I fear the king is oblivious to everything that's happening. He has not been the same since the death of the Royal Prince Mildain. The council controls almost every decision in Etruria of recent. Etruria will remain neutral for as long as she can."
"The citizens want nothing of the war," Knarrd elaborated, still calmly sipping his tea, as if unaffected by the tension in the room, as oblivious as Etruria herself. "Bern will have to think twice or more before she attacks Etruria-of all the nations, Etruria can be the only one to beat Bern. The Etrurians, of all nationalities, have a sense of superiority and pride in themselves and will refuse to involve themselves in this if it means keeping their illusion of peace."
Mark then said, as Kumiko finally drifted from him and dried her tears, "Well… I was in Sacae when the attack happened… and oh, you bet I was surprised when I saw those wyverns in the air and a horde of knights and cavaliers after. All I could do was run for it. And that's how I'm still alive today."
"How very brave, Master Mark. That truly is the thinking of a 'Famed Genius'."
And for once, tension was eased when the group found themselves giggling to Anko's words.
"Hah. Very funny," Mark raised an eyebrow, though he had just been laughing himself. "Now, I'd like to know if you can still laugh after I ask you about the situation from Bern's point of view."
"I'm just a spy," Anko said, voice nonchalant, "And I don't know specifics about the war. I do know that I've been ordered to redo my background check on every person in the castle-anyone who isn't a native of Bern is kicked out. Or if someone seems suspicious, I... just get rid of him. We don't like losing by being backstabbed, you know."
"You truly talk like one who hails from Bern," said Knarrd, "You have pride that Bern is the best country there is when it is a matter of war, right?"
When Anko just shrugged, Mark turned an expectant gaze at Kumiko, which ushered her to speak.
"I still see no proper reasons why this war has started," she said, "But I'm trying my best to find out. I fear His Highness has been hiding things to me of late. What his goals are, I don't know. I believe his generals may know, but..."
"Then ask his generals!" Nerisa suggested.
"Tried that. Didn't work," Kumiko almost instantaneously replied.
"Then seduce the king to get him to speak." Xarin suggested.
"I-I can't do that!"
"Hah!" Miguel let out a rude chuckle. "I'm sure it'd work if you do it!"
When Mark noticed the queen turn a deep red, he said, "I believe that's enough pressuring Kumiko. It's not really her job to pry-that would be the job of our spies."
"But what are we going to do?" Nerisa asked, sounding utterly concerned. "This war goes on, and as an elite group of tacticians, we have to take some sort of action as well... Father would never sit still if he were alive. He would want us to do something."
"I think we should just go on with our own jobs," Xarin said. "We still have contracts to different countries, and our guild stands by its rules of loyalty to those who pay us."
"What do you mean, Xarin?"Miguel asked. "We go our own ways?"
"Yes," she answered sharply. "I work for Lycia. I side with Lycia. You work for Etruria. Then do what Etruria commands you to. Anko works for Bern. She does what Bern Keep tells her to."
Anko let out a snort, noticing how Xarin singled her out. They have never gotten along much, and it was not just because of their opposing interests of now. "This is the Guild. My father's guild," Anko said. "My loyalties are to Bern and His Highness but I will not betray my father by selling anyone of you out."
You've already sold me out, Kumiko thought bitterly. You've already sold me out to Zephiel for your own purposes.
"This is a grave time," said Mark. "We are well aware that Bern is the strongest force in the continent. If we don't act, the balance of the continent would be disrupted—"
"You're talking like some god," Miguel snapped, causing Mark to flinch. "Talking about the balance in the continent and all that."
Mark lost his words. He and Miguel have never been the closest friends, their personalities clashing with each other often, intimidating the other without meaning to.
"Balance is important," Jenro said. "If there's only one country, one ruler, there are no wars, no skirmishes, no business for us."
Business! Kumiko thought, bitterly. This isn't about business. It was about lives, about death, about meaningless sacrifices...
"The beneficial thing to do would be to unite against Bern sometime or the other," Miguel suggested. "Once Etruria's help is acquired, that would be possible. His Highness to Etruria cannot ignore us forever. He will move sometime. While Sacae, Ilia, and Lycia are in ruins, they are not totally obliterated. We have to act while that time has not come."
"That would be great, and I see the sense in it, but..." Mark's words trailed off as he glanced at Anko. He never knew which way she would swing.
Anko caught his glance, and knew he was worried for her. "But you would be facing me in war, is that it? Yes, by all means, you'd be clashing with me. While I would never harm any of you personally, I can't say I would support this endeavor either. I'm Bern's Master of Spies. I am loyal to my title and my king."
An awkward silence filled the room, a silence fueled by the certainty that Anko was as stubborn as a rock—her opinion cannot be changed. And at the same time, they all knew Anko was a snake—she might as well sell them all out.
"...We're going to fight Zephiel."
Everyone stirred and turned to Kumiko, who had broken the silence with her determined statement. "We're going to fight Zephiel," she repeated, as firm as the first. "If he doesn't change his mind, we would have to fight him."
"And it's your job," Anko added as gravely, "to change his mind. And if you do not succeed in that, then by all means you are welcome to fight him. …And me."
BERN CAPITAL | Some Tavern
Xarin arrived just in time to catch a cloaked man, tall but lean underneath his heavy cloaks, staring at a scantily dressed barmaid. The barmaid was all aware of this, and when she served his drink she winked at him, and he returned it.
Xarin sat a seat away from him on the bar. He turned to her, putting on the appearance of surprise as he looked at her from head to toe and then let out a low whistle, as he got up and moved to the seat next to her.
Xarin rolled her eyes and said, as if to the air, "You know, Leila would kill you if she were alive."
The man, Matthew, managed a laugh, tossing his head back, the soft tavern lights highlighting sandy brown hair into gold. "But she's not alive," Matthew said, with a grin. "And shut up and play along. You're not acting professional. This is Anko's turf and she's got spies everywhere here. Imagine if one of those spies found out that I were here…"
"You use spywork as an excuse to act inappropriate," Xarin muttered, to herself. She reached out across the counter and took the mug in front of him, drinking it straight.
Matthew made a face. "That was mine."
"You're going to kill me with the bill," she answered. They ran off from Ostia with limited resources, after all, and Matthew knew it. "And have you—"
But all of a sudden, he inched closer to her and draped an arm over her shoulder. She stiffened, and then shrugged the hand off her. Matthew smirked, but then just spoke. "Yes," he said, a low whisper. "I have everything done as you ordered, sweetheart."
She wanted to groan, and punch his face, but she held it in. "Good," she said, blandly. Matthew felt irritated, in the slightest. He has never worked with Xarin in the field, but he heard many amusing stories from other spies that Xarin literally transformed when she had to act in the name of work. And now he has to work with her, but she still has to act like the cold woman that she is. Maybe I should give her another assignment, Matthew thought selfishly to himself, smirking as he thought of making Xarin act as his sweet innocent sister, or a submissive girlfriend, or a flirty barmaid—I wonder what personality Xarin put on when she seduced that scoundrel Erik only to later point a dagger to his throat? Ah. I'd like to see how she did that.
"What?" Xarin asked, when she noticed he was silent.
He snapped, and turned to her, still with that smirk. She would kill him if she found out what he had been thinking of. "Nothing, sweetheart. Just wondering if you were a good kisser." Oh goodness, I think I sound like-what was his name?—oh, Sain. A suave Sain at least!
Xarin stomped his shoe with the heel of her own, and he flinched, but he was laughing. When he was through laughing, though, he warily glanced behind his back. "But I think I found one," Matthew said, tone nonchalant but with an underlying hint of urgency, if such a thing was possible. He ordered another mug of ale from a barmaid, the same barmaid who winked at him earlier, who was now eyeing Xarin carefully. When the barmaid was out of earshot, Matthew whispered, "That woman by the door—the barkeep's wife?—has been staring at you since you came. She's probably a spy. I can't believe I agreed to walk into my personal definition of hell on Elibe—Anko's turf. You never know if that snake's for you or against you."
"You've worked with her once, haven't you?" Xarin asked
"I-I don't know what you're talking about," Matthew looked away from her, flustered. "I don't see a reason for Ostia to have to work with Bern. How was the meeting? How's Kumiko?"
"She wants to wage all-out war on Bern. Anko is still sitting with Bern, though. Everyone else just brought along sob stories like what we have from Lycia. And Etruria remains, as we thought, ignorant. Should I tell Kumi that you're here?"
"…Typical Kumi," Matthew said, the hand around Xarin's shoulder idly dropping down to Xarin's lap, caressing the skin there that was laid bare by her short skirt. "I agree with her, though. Nothing left to do now but fight. And don't tell her that I'm here. She might accidentally alert Anko about it. And we all know that she's technically my archenemy now."
Xarin gave an agreeing snort, and then glanced down at his hand lightly massaging her thigh, and she dangerously told him, "So, do you think it's time I punch you in the face and further prevent your wounds from healing well?"
The barkeep's wife started hovering around the tavern, stopping at the table behind them, making small talk with that table. Matthew clicked his tongue irritably. "Congratulate your friend for having a spy in every inn and tavern. Or, in my opinion, in every corner of Bern. Or the world. Yes, I think it's time. You know where to see me next."
And his hand started trailing upward Xarin's skirt, but immediately she grabbed his hand, stopping him, and punched him in the face, flinging him to the floor for better measure. The tavern gave a collective gasp as Matthew lay on the floor, blood coming from the sides of his mouth. Xarin left a pouch of gold to the bar counter, her payment for her drinks, and left the tavern in a bad mood.
Oh, the pain I have to go through because of work, Matthew sighed to himself, as he lay there on the tavern floor, pretending to be passed out. But I'll do this. I am Ostia's Master of Spies. I'll redeem Ostia .I'll redeem you all, Lord Hector.
Later, the barkeep's wife would tell Anko's agents that Xarin merely took a drink in the bar when a man made indecent passes at her, with which she found right to attack him. Xarin was doing nothing suspicious at all.
Bern Capital | The Tactician Guild
In the end, no firm decision has been made. Mark called the meeting done at the conclusion that they had to wait things out for a while and see what would happen.
The evening was already deep and dark, though none of that can be felt in the underground Tactician Guild. There was, as usual, a dimness about their Guild as it was underground, but Anko (or, was it Heath?) finally installed magical lighting material from the Magic Shop. Said lighting flickered as Kumiko passed by the hall to her old room, the magic spirits in their contained bulbs probably dancing or flittering about, Kumiko thought.
She walked by the boy's room—the room that Miguel, Knarrd, Jenro, and Mark used to share—and stopped when voices from inside startled her.
"You should hear him! You should hear him, trying so hard to be some knight in shining armor, about to whisk her away from her awful marriage!
Kumiko paused, suddenly curious about this conversation. It was Miguel who spoke, and Kumiko could not believe it—fancy words like whisk and knight in shining armor were rarely a part of his vocabulary. And who was the person in question? Who was trying to be a knight?
"Oh, goodness' sake Miguel, get over it—why don't you try falling in love? You might become as stupid." It was Nerisa who spoke now.
"Love? There's a right place for such a thing. Not in the middle of war! When it is war, it is all but logic. We have to do the right thing that would get us to victory. Mark knows what to do. But he delays it for Kumiko's sake! I swear! He sides on her all the time! He would try not to make things hard for her. He even did her laundry way back when we were younger!"
Kumiko gasped in disbelief—it was about her! And Mark! Is this how their friends—no, their colleagues, simply put, for they were no longer friends!—thought about them? Mark is a wonderful leader—is that just how they viewed them? Do they disrespect him—because of me?
Kumiko turned around and walk away, not wanting to hear any more of it.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
"Mark."
The male tactician looked up from the book he was reading when Kumiko called him. He would never admit it, but he knew every possible tone and tune of that voice, even in his sleep. Kumiko. His childhood friend. The one he tried his best to protect for the most part of his life. No—for all his life. For he knew that even now, he was still thinking of Kumiko's welfare, still trying to put her first. And she was standing there before him, brown-blonde hair still damp, white velvet dress making her look like the snow goddess of Regrada herself.
A goddess who already belongs to a god, unfortunately, and I be a mere mortal.
He made some space on the couch for her to sit, but then she proceeded to recline on the couch and rest her head on his lap.
It was what she would do, so many years ago when they were young, every time something troubled her. She came to him like this every time she wanted someone to listen and give her good advice—when she needed an older brother, perhaps.
No more than an older brother.
"…I'm sorry, Mark," she said. "I know my position in the country makes everything so much more hard for the guild…"
"No, it doesn't," he quickly said—he lied. He was staring down into her face, the face of an angel, and he couldn't resist tucking some stray hair on her face behind her ears. And then he said, with a sigh. "We're just being careful. Better to act when you already know everything that's at stake. Rash decisions are unwise."
"No," she shook her head, and her blue eyes showed some form of anger at Mark. She knew he was lying. "If I weren't queen, our action would be clear—we would all unite against Bern, wouldn't we? And you and I both know what is needed in this situation—a quick, firm decision. Slow judgment might mean disaster. This war might become more large scale than it already is-"
He sighed, and dropped the book he was reading to his side. She was right. He knew she was right. "But it's not just you," he said, recalling something. "...We have Anko to consider, too." And then he whispered, "She's an angel at best, and a snake at worst. Who knows when she'll sell us out to Bern?"
"Not Anko," she said. "This is her guild. We all grew up together. She would never betray us. But she is most loyal to Bern. She is most loyal to the king. She will not put us in harm's way, but she would not risk being in his disfavor, either. And though I hate it, I can't do anything against him as well. He's my husband."
The last statement was such a fact that it hurt, and he wished she didn't have to say it. And so there was silence.
She snuggled into his green robes. He sighed in frustration, though he knew her proximity made him feel good. How long has it been since the friend was that close to him? How long has it been since she last sat with him like so? So much time has passed. So many things have happened.
She married. And she married a king.
In a short while, the gravity of the situation began to dawn on him. Should Anko see this scene and report it to the king, he knew he was as good as dead. He knew what kind of man the king of Bern was. How he held onto the things he set his eyes on.
But I'll never get to hold her this way again. He pushed the thoughts of the king to the corners of his mind, and he began to stroke the woman's hair in a comforting way. "Don't blame yourself, Kumi," he told her. "I'll try to think of something..."
"It is my fault," she stubbornly said. "I know I am the one making things hard for us now. Do me a favor, Mark, and forget my station as queen, forget my husband, and just do the right thing. You know we must act against Bern."
"That will leave you in an uncomfortable position," Mark said. "If we are actively fighting Bern while you are one of its monarchs—"
"Then I can gather information for you. Then I can help you from inside."
Mark's face turned into a frown. "You're not capable of that treachery, Kumiko. And I'd like to be cautious and think that if anyone ever sensed that you will do that—like Anko or His Majesty himself—you would be in danger and be put in harm. I would rather watch and see how things progress in a while. Etruria is yet to act."
Kumiko sighed. Miguel was right. You favor me too much. I am the cause of all this. You place too much value on me, Mark.
"You know," she lightly tugged on his robes, her eyes on his, but looking distant, as if thinking of things far-off and gone. "...I always wonder what could've happened if... if we didn't get separated. That time, in the mountain borders of Bern and Sacae... bandits chased us and you went on your own to distract them. I found myself on the Sacae plains, and I met Lady Lyn and worked for her... Eventually I met Lord Hector and Lord Eliwood and I worked for them as well... And along the journey I met His Highness, Zephiel... Mark, what if you were the one that met Lyn? If that was what happened, then I wouldn't have met Zephiel, then I wouldn't have to be queen..."
He shook his head at her. "Now, what is this about? Are you regretting your husband? That's not an honorable thing for a wife to be doing..."
"Yes, Mark. I do regret the man. I wish I never met him back then so I'd never have to be in this terrible fate, tied to him. If only I could-!"
As much good it should be for Mark to hear those words, they did not, and it only stung him, and stopped her from saying more by placing a finger on her lip. "Shush, Kumiko. We can't change the past now, can we?" No matter how much I want to, we can't. I don't want to get my hopes up. "You are queen. You have to face it. You may not notice it, but you have the power to change things. Do what you think is right for your country."
She said nothing. Mark used to be so protective, almost bordering on obsessed. He used to give in to her every request and whim, and take her side at all times. He was like a brother to her. She wished he would treat her like a child again, but that was not the case anymore.
"You may just be one woman," he said, trying to be comforting, "but for all I know, you can change the history of the continent."
"...Thank you, Mark." She only said it because she did not know what else to say. She looked up to him with a smile, albeit almost forced.
He smiled back. And for a moment Mark forgot to guard his words, and then, the words spilt out:
"I wonder, too... If you had become my queen instead...?"
"...What?" Kumiko, surprised, got up from his lap, and seemed bothered.
Ah, Kumiko. Always so innocent about love. Innocent to a point of dense, I dare say. I have always loved you. Too late now, though.
All he did was smile, as he got up, held her hand and gave it a light kiss, and he trailed off to his room after giving her a mock bow.
o0o0o0o0o0o0o
Later, Kumiko was still seated on the receiving room couch, thoughts seeming to be distant. That was when Anko sat at the chair across her, snapping her to her senses.
"Oh, Anko," Kumiko greeted, almost a whisper.
"No plans to go back to Bern Keep?" Anko asked.
All Kumiko's answer was to shake her head.
Anko clicked her tongue. "Not a wise course of action. I can, undoubtedly, give you a place to stay for the night—this is always home for you, too, you know, but... Wouldn't Zephiel get mad at you for this?"
"I don't care if he gets mad. I'm also mad at him, so he's getting what he asked for."
"You're lucky he favors you so, but it won't last forever, you know."
"If he keeps me, it's not because he favors me, it's because he wants me as some sort of prisoner."
Anko made some sort of perturbed face. "You have such a bleak view of marriage. I'm sure Zephiel favors you for some other reason. You're still attractive, in case you haven't noticed."
"No, I haven't noticed, and that's not true," said Kumiko. How would she notice, surrounded by beautiful people as well? Growing up, Anko, Xarin, and Nerisa were attractive as well. And she has mingled with nobles, princesses and queens—what was her beauty in comparison?
But, oh, has she not more that once looked in the huge mirrors in her changing room in Bern Keep, after trying on gown after gown, and delighted at how beautifully she looked in them. And had she not blushed and indulged in the praises of many a man of the court, for her sapphire eyes, brown-blonde hair, sun-kissed skin? She knew she was attractive—it ran in her blood, the blood of the nobles of Regrada—but thinking back it had probably done her more bad than good, to be beautiful that she attracted, a way or another, without her knowing, the king of Bern.
"So, what will you do?"
Kumiko snapped from her thoughts and looked up at Anko. "About what?"
"About Mark," Anko said, much to Kumiko's surprise.
"I have no issue with Mark. We get along fine, as usual."
"Not in that sense," said Anko. "He… likes you, you know."
"Of course Mark does," Kumiko nervously said, as if to brush off the question. "He's my childhood friend, like yours."
"No, Kumiko, not 'like' in that sense. 'Like' in a way that 'I-wish-she-were-my-wife-instead'."
Kumiko has just confirmed that, from the words that came from Mark moments ago. Sure, it could have been a joke, but... All jokes are half-meant, right?
Kumiko just shook her head. "I can only love Mark like a brother. He always spoiled me. Right from the beginning. When I needed someone to take my side I turned to Mark. When I needed someone to fight for me. I figure it's not him I want, but his constant taking of my side."
"Ouch," Anko said. "You're not as dense as people think, Kumi. You do notice. Sometimes, you do."
Kumiko nodded slightly to herself. "Yes. Sometimes I do. I just fail to conclude unless I feel that there is solid evidence."
"Then what about His Highness? You do notice he favors you more than ordinary? I dare say, he may love you."
"Now that is impossible!" Kumiko told Anko. "He favors me, yes. Fancies me, yes. But in a way a child is fascinated with a favorite toy. If he loved me, he would listen. If he loved me, then he would have never, out of nowhere, asked me to marry him two years ago. That was too abrupt. He barely knew me. He cannot love me. Love takes time."
"It's been two years already," Anko pointed out. "Maybe he has fallen in-love with you during those two years? If he treated you like, as you said, some fancied toy, he should be sick of you by now and seeking another toy. But no he is not."
"Zephiel doesn't like women. Even the pretty, young things in court fail to get his attention."
I know, Anko thought, I know. Because he is a single-minded man who knows what he wants and will only have that. He chose you. So it will always be you. And Zephiel will always be careful. Women are distractions, and he knows that. Women bring ruin, and he knows that. And you are the only distraction he has allowed to enter his life.
The conversation was cut short when the guild door suddenly burst open. Heath-in his full armor, panting heavily, and soaking wet from the rain outside—emerged from the door. The two women turned to him, surprised. Anko almost spoke, but Heath declared, "The king has returned!"
Kumiko visibly gasped. "And Kumiko," Heath said, "Please return to the castle, or else the king will probably have my head! He's furious!"
"Looks like he's missing his favorite toy," Anko remarked, but by all means her tone was serious, not a drip of sarcasm in it. "Go amuse him, Kumiko. We cannot risk the king getting angry at any one of us. Most especially you. Be kind to him. Be kind to him for once."
But Anko's advice would be left unheeded.
End of Chapter.
A/N: Told you it'll be up real soon. XD If there were too many scenes with OCs to your liking, I apologize. Err, but then again, that's what I'm known for. My readers from Journey are familiar with these OCs anyway.
…Anko and Heath? I'm trying to work out if this is a pairing in my head, but it's all fogged up to me. I don't see it as clearly as I see Xarin and Matt. Anyway, the two have yet to truly personally interact in this fic, so I'm not sure at all.
Gaaahhh… I managed to squeeze in Matt there didn't I? I SHOULD STOP. SOMEBODY STOP ME.
Hmmm.,. Countdown to until we finally get to see the Etrurian politics… in three chapters? No, two? No, in the next chapter? I cannot offer anything concrete yet until the events in Bern Keep are concluded. When the Bern Keep segment is done, I can rightfully focus on that. Just like in FE7, you are only introduced to the politics of the continent in general in a narration that happens only after you finish Lyn's tale and start on Eliwood's/Hector's. XD
Review please, your opinions are what keep the chapters coming. Even constant pestering for the Journey might get me to get some writing on that done. XDD
PS: Or maybe prayers and wishes would work. My bf (or ex-bf, whatever) has just called up quite a while ago but based on what he said, I'm feeling hopeful. He said he'll call again this May, and I do hope that he does. Writing is hard without your muse. Haha! I'm hopeful but if it doesn't happen, I'll have to learn to deal with it, but I'm just happy enough for now that he remembered. Gotta learn to be content with what you're given. If it doesn't go as you want, there's always going to be something good to make out of it, in the end. But I sure do hope he calls!
PPS: At 8000 words, this is my longest chapter for Bern. My chapters for Journey comes to 50,000 words, just a piece of trivia. I can pretty much come up with 8000 easily, but 50000? Takes a while!
