Chapter Nine

The party was skirting around the city of Zaland, mostly keeping to the tree line and outer fields, when they were next attacked. It seemed that Sir Kletian had sent along another group of Templars to track them down, perhaps as revenge for his humiliating defeat at Ramza's hands.

They spotted several cloaked and armored figures swaggering toward them. Ramza halted, and they all waited for the Templar Knights to approach. The group stopped when they were perhaps fifty feet away from Ramza and his party. The leader of the Templar group called out to Ramza, as a formality, that he and his friends could surrender now, or else be slaughtered.

Meliadoul felt a jolt of horror twist through her. She recognized the leader of this Templar band.

It was Sir Percival.

Ramza called back across the gap, to the Templar group, that their surrender was not an option. He offered that the Templars could walk away, if they did not wish to lose their own lives.

Meliadoul's fists were clenched tight on her sword and shield. The way Percival had treated her had been cruel. He may not be the absolute worst person she had ever met, but he was definitely a real asshole. Even after all these years, seeing his face left Meliadoul with an immediate feeling of hatred. Now that they stood on opposite sides of a soon-to-be-battle, she thought how good it would feel to sink Save the Queen through his flesh.

Meliadoul recognized the actual moment that Percival identified her from across the field. She saw the sick smile crack across his features. Percival suddenly called out to the rest of his teammates, "Try to take the traitor in the green cloak alive, if you can! That is Meliadoul Tingel!" he grinned widely. "I had her maidenhead, and I should not mind the chance to have her again!"

Meliadoul's vision was turning red at the edges. She ignored his leering smile, which was turned in her direction, ignored the fact that all of her comrades had just heard Percival speak those disgusting words.

She was chomping at the bit. She wanted his blood, now.

As both parties began to move, Meliadoul rushed directly at her old enemy. Percival was still smiling, as if this was some kind of funny game, and not a fight to the death. As she ran, she muttered her chant under her breath: "Armor won't help the heart stay sharp..." She then shrieked, "Shellbust Stab!"

A holy blaze made Percival's armor disintegrate around him, as he flinched in pain from the blow to his body.

"You fucking bitch!" he exclaimed.

He was starting to take this seriously now, she noted with grim satisfaction.

Their swords clashed together. Meliadoul was fairly strong, but Percival was a very large man, and she could not compete with him for sheer upper body strength. After feeling the impact of their swords striking together twice, she had to retreat a couple steps.

Her best bet was to evade him for a few swings. If she could dodge until he put himself into an unbalanced position, then she could drive her sword home. Thank the gods she had been training so hard with Agrias lately. A mere month ago, Percival might have easily made mincemeat of her in a swordfight.

Meliadoul managed her evasion, for a bit. She even managed to hit him with another Shellbust Stab. But Percival eventually took her by surprise (he was not, after all, one of her father's highest-ranked Knights for nothing), and her dodge was not successful. She barely got her sword up in time, to block his blade from hitting her body.

The force of the blow sent her stumbling onto the ground, and knocked Save the Queen out of her hand.

As Meliadoul frantically scrambled on her back for a split second, Percival laughed to see the fear on her face. "Mayhap I shall go ahead and kill you, after all," he growled.

Suddenly, Percival was engulfed in flame. It was no normal fire. It looked almost as if the flame burst directly out of Percival's clothing somehow, before blazing outward. Meliadoul actually screamed in surprise, before she realized this was Malak's work. The Netherseer was a few yards behind, his arms raised as he chanted. A second blaze quickly slammed out of and around Percival.

The hell fire seemed to burn in a way that normal flames would not. Percival managed only to give a strangled moan of horror and pain, before his body began to essentially melt. For a moment, he flailed, and a wave of steaming blood splashed all over Meliadoul's legs. Along with bits of nastier things she did not want to contemplate too closely. Malak's fiery blast slammed down again, in a spot just to the left of Percival.

Still on the ground, Meliadoul scrambled out of the way like a crab, as fast as she could. She managed to get her hand back onto her sword hilt as she went.

What was left of Percival crumpled to the ground, like an empty sack.

Meliadoul's eyes darted left and right, frantically. She was relieved to find that it looked like the rest of Percival's team had already been felled by her comrades. The looting of gil and gear was beginning. Rafa and Cid were chatting, at ease, next to one of the corpses. It seemed they had been enjoying the show of Malak's hell fire. Cid always insisted that Rafa stay behind him in a fight; he did not like it any more than Meliadoul did, that a girl so young was involved with their party. Ivalice normally did not allow anyone under the age of sixteen to fight in the armies.

Meliadoul saw Malak lowering his hands, his casting complete. He looked exhilarated, empowered rather than exhausted, after the use of his magic. Meliadoul got up and sheepishly thanked him for saving her from Percival. The solemn Netherseer responded that it was 'nothing at all', though he did look rather pleased with himself.

That night around the campfire, Meliadoul felt extremely awkward. Everyone was either avoiding meeting her eye, or else giving her pitying glances. They had all heard what Percival said about her, before the fight. Wulfhilda was sitting closer to her than normal, it seemed, as if trying to offer comfort with her presence.

Even when they all cleaned themselves off in a pond, the women had not been their usual chatty selves. Of course, Meliadoul had been quite busy, trying to wash the remains of Percival off of her clothing.

The only person who had actually spoken to her that evening, for a moment, was Cid. And that was only to shake his head and say, "Rushing at a Knight three times your size like that… Stupidest thing I have seen in years."

Meliadoul had no witty retort. He was right, it had been stupid. If she were in a happier mood, then she might have argued with him just for the sake of arguing. But not today.

It irked that she had not been able to defeat Percival by herself. She could just add that to her ever-growing list of personal shortcomings. Unable to kill her nemesis. Unable to even notice that demons had been taking possession of her father and his advisors. Unable to stop them from killing Izlude. Unable to keep Prudence and her other soldiers safe. Why had they ever put her in charge of anyone? She was clearly not as talented as she had always believed she was, back at the academy.

Eventually, as most of them were getting ready for bed, Ramza approached Meliadoul. He asked if they could have a word in private, and she nodded. She simply hoped he wasn't planning to ask her to leave the party, for the crime of being generally useless.

Ramza grabbed a lantern, and they wandered a little distance into the woods, far enough away from the others that their conversation, hopefully, would not be overheard.

"I suppose this is about the fight earlier," Meliadoul guessed.

Ramza nodded. He set the lantern down on the ground, then straightened to face her again. "Those men… You must have—I mean… did it upset you that we had to kill your father's Knights? You must have known some of them well."

Meliadoul took a deep breath and shook her head. "No. It does not bother me at all that we had to kill them. I assure you."

Ramza asked, "Was it true, what that man said about you?"

Meliadoul looked down at her feet. She hated to dwell on the memory. "Yes. Unfortunately."

Ramza did not say anything. Damn him and his silences. She ended up explaining, even though she had not really planned to.

"It… It was years ago, when I was young and stupid. I went with him to his bedchamber. And once we got inside," She shook her head, looking for words. "I ended up wishing I had not."

"And your father allowed the man to stay in his service?"

"Hah! I never told my father! Too humiliating."

Ramza summoned his courage and asked, "Was that Knight the only person you ever bedded? Is that why you claimed you hate men?"

Meliadoul cringed. "Ugh! Ramza what is wrong with you, today?" she exclaimed. "You wish to pry up every secret I hold?"

"Definitely," he replied, giving that mischievous smile that always made her stomach feel fluttery.

She rolled her eyes and chuckled, but said, "No. I had a lover after him, but that did not end well, either."

Ramza hated to hear that she had liked another man. He was surprised at how much that knowledge felt like a stab to his own chest. He hid the feeling, but raised his eyebrows questioningly.

Meliadoul tried not to let any hurt leak into the tone of her voice when she explained, "He was secretly courting another woman, while he was with me. I know it was years ago, but… the pain from that sort of betrayal lingers, I suppose."

"So, have you been missing him all this time?" Ramza asked jealously.

"Oh, gods, no!" She crinkled her nose. "Looking back, honestly, there was nothing worth missing. I am sorry for the woman who won him."

"All right. So, you decided to hate every man in the country, because he betrayed you?"

She smiled. "Well, it seemed the reasonable choice at the time."

Ramza made a face, but stepped closer to her. Close enough that it felt completely natural for her to put her hand on his upper arm. She looked up into his dark eyes, beneath his furrowed dark brow. Gods, he really was strangely beautiful when his face was solemn.

"Did you never think that perhaps you might meet a man who was neither a brute, nor a fool?" he asked.

She allowed some of the deep sadness she felt to show in her eyes. "Does such a creature even exist?" she asked.

Ramza kissed her soundly on her mouth, his arms wrapping around her. He did not grab her roughly, the way Percival once had. But his grip was firm, confident. His lips on hers were warm and perfect.

Meliadoul sank into the feeling. The smell of him was intoxicating, somehow, even though his clothing had surely not been washed in a few days, at least. She breathed him in greedily. And gods, to have the freedom to touch his chest and arms and shoulders… he was so solid, so steady. Her hands stroked over him of their own accord, before she finally looped her arms around Ramza's neck.

When he eventually pulled back from their kiss, Meliadoul's body followed his, leaning forward to seek his warmth. He held her close for a silent moment, and she rested her face in the crook of his neck.

"The others are going to come looking for us, if we do not return now," Ramza murmured into her hair.

"Let them," Meliadoul pouted. "I could happily stay right here with you for hours."

He smiled, and his hands gripped her back a little more firmly. "I would if I could. I was assigned first watch shift tonight, though. They are probably already grumbling about my absence."

"Oh," Meliadoul sighed, relinquishing her hold on him.

"There is always tomorrow night," Ramza said, his hand lightly touching her lower back as they began to make their way over to the camp.

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