Capriones 8/12/2006
Disclaimer: We shall make use of several of the characters from The Slayers, none of whom belongs to us.
Chapter Nineteen -- Acceptance and Misgivings
Filia's eyes flickered from the savage forms of the new marauders back to Valgaav, who was withdrawing his sword from the corpse of the slain sorcerer. At least she and Valgaav had performed their planned attack well!
"Valgaav! Coming our way!" she cried out in desperation, her pretty face twisted in anguish.
Valgaav tensed, preparing for the worst, and then brushed the hair back from his eyes, revealing to her a smile.
"Stop that!" she cried out. "We have to think up something fast! How did we not see them before?"
"Look again." He plucked at his shirt as a hint.
"Oh Val... You're right, they aren't robed!"
The newcomers were in fact attacking the few remaining men of the Red Guard, chasing them down and executing them on the spot.
"But who were they? Capriones?" she asked, knowing that it was impossible.
"Oh, you can do better than that, priestess. They're not even half-human. Those are men from the village, beast men. They must have been aware of the cleansers before we were. We just saved them some trouble, that's all. Let's go back and get our horses. See what they've got to say."
"Who the horses?" Filia asked, suddenly feeling very stupid indeed.
Valgaav rolled his eyes. "Yes, the horses. Right smart talkers, horses. And being that we Caprione folk knows their language makes us damned clever, eh?"
Filia felt her face flush red, embarrassed by her foolish question and his uncharacteristic mockery of the common people's way of talking.
"That's unnecessary!" she said with a snort. "I was just confused. That's all. I expended a lot of energy and it left me a little light-headed. Obviously, you meant that we should ride out to speak to the beast men, which is perfectly reasonable."
Filia took a few steps, but Valgaav was in her way, smiling, and looking down at her.
"Most men like their ladies to be charming," he told her.
"I really don't care for charm." She looked directly at him. "I never possessed, nor admired it in others. It always seems chameleon to me, and I cannot be sure what color the animal underneath might be really."
Valgaav laughed, and he found himself warming to her honesty. "Ho! So that's why you hate Xelloss so much. You see right past his charm!"
"And through the thin veil of what amounts to be yours! Oh look, there's a, ah, man coming our way and he's bringing our horses."
Filia turned her hot face away from Valgaav, who was unfazed by her weak attempt at insulting him. She had complemented him when giving her impassioned speech and Zelgadiss had confirmed her honesty, so Valgaav knew that Filia admired him, regardless. He imagined someone had hurt her badly in the past and now she shielded herself from all forms of attack with harsh words and insults. She wasn't like Lina at all. Lina was inexperienced.
"Hello!" called out the approaching beast man.
The beast men were grateful to the strangers for their courage and generosity in battle. One, a man with the head of a wolf, took particular care letting Filia know just how obliged his was.
"You're not thinking of going up that mountain tonight, are you? You'll break your neck or one of your horses' legs. For your bravery and service stopping the assault on our village, you must let us put you up at our finest inn for the night. And dinner too, my personal guest."
His tongue lolled to the side as he panted, giving him a lopsided look. Filia was afraid he might lick her, like dogs did, something she hated, and so she grabbed his hand, or paw, and shook it.
"Oh, you are very welcome, Mr. Er...?"
"Dilgear, miss."
"Mr. Dilgear, thank you. Those cleansers are nasty men. It was our pleasure to get rid of them."
"And we'll be happy to accept the offer on the lodgings for tonight," Valgaav put in. "Consider any debt we've had with you even."
"Ah, you Capriones . . . Always working the deals, settling the score, and with such courtesy! Just accept our appreciation and forget it."
Filia bristled and nearly corrected his misinformation that she was Caprione, but a warning look from Valgaav silenced her.
"You'll like the food," Valgaav said to her aloud. "Vegetarian."
One glance at the bull-like man leading their horses, and Filia sniffed. "I should think so."
Not long after, they enjoyed a delicious, although simple meal shared with a couple of the beast men. Bread and greens, a bowl packed with vegetables in a bubbling, herbal broth, and honey wine was satisfying and nourished Filia's soul like no meal she had enjoyed since leaving her clan. Knowing that they were safe for the night, Filia was ready to turn in for the night.
"Before I retire," she said to Valgaav. "I wanted to tell you how impressed I was with..."
"That's all right," he stopped her. "We made a great team. It felt good."
"Yes, it did, didn't it?" she smiled generously. "Well, good night then."
"Yeah, sleep well."
Filia nodded and closed the door to her room. She fell into a deep and dreamless sleep immediately.
Valgaav remained restless a while longer. The excitement of the battle was still in his blood, although giving way to other urges as exhaustion set in. He freed his mind to wander at will, touching on events in the battle, but repeatedly returning to his companion for the journey. He tried to clear his mind of everything and sleep, only to discover he was trapped in a labyrinth. He had no choice but to sort out his feelings for Filia that night.
He could recall every detail of their friendship, if that was the term for it. Sometimes it was almost enmity. He had loathed Filia to begin with, admiring her only for how much she nettled Xelloss. Even now she frequently angered him with her opinionated manner and her bossy behavior. There was nothing romantic about her, nothing feminine or appealing. She didn't treat him with deference or try to be gentle or pleasing.
Now, that wasn't entirely true. In a pinch, there could be no one stronger than her, no one braver. He valued those qualities more than he could measure, and they also infuriated him. He was so much more attracted to women that were fun, uncritical, sweet. He could think of several in the camp who knew just when to speak, how to flatter and laugh; who knew how to be weak in the little things it was so easy for him to supply; and those ladies who at the same time were in the position to improve his position in the clan. Even Zelas' demands didn't require him to give up much of himself to accomplish.
Filia, however, asked that he sacrifice so much, whether the cost would prove to be too much he didn't know. She challenged the fabric of his nature even down to the content of his dreams. He had a dream the night before where he led a party of painted warriors through a narrow, rocky pass, on a foray the nature of which he couldn't remember, but had left him breathless with excitement. He had scrapped his plans to marry Zelas to attain status as her heir, if that had ever really been an option open to him, knowing that it hadn't been because of any deep-seated belief in Xelloss' cause or at his insistence. He was here because of Filia.
But why, he wondered?
What was it about her that so captivated him, driving him to leave his comfortable lifestyle and charge off on this fool's errand? He pictured her as she had been, standing a few feet away from him in the heat of battle. She wasn't young. She was still unmarried, a most unusual circumstance for women her age and station, which he took to be nearing thirty, older than him. She was not breathtakingly beautiful, but there was serenity in her which lent her an overall appearance of loveliness. Her eyes were steady and straight, and pure blue. Her fair hair was worn pulled back beneath a heavy headdress of her shrine, and at her wrist was tied a pink ribbon with a bow.
Why not?
She improved the more he thought about her, and while wondering about the significance of the pink ribbon, he fell asleep.
(O)
After the battle in the forest detained, dirtied, and exhausted them, Lina and Gourry had been in no condition to enter a palace in the wee hours of the morning. Who knows what indications of a recent fight might mean to some curious spectator, or who might pay for such information? On the outskirts of the city, Gourry changed route, taking them to a small out of the way roadside inn. While Lina rented a room with two beds, he saw to it that the horse was well cared for. Only a few hours before the dawning of a new day and weary to the bone, both young people tumbled into their beds.
Lina and Gourry awoke groggy-eyed and later than they had intended. They took a meager breakfast, and then spent the remainder of the morning cleaning the dust, blood, and scorch marks from their faces and clothing.
"You look better," Lina told him, wiping a smudge off her cloak near a splatter of blood she'd been unable to remove. "Damn! And it was brand-new, too! Well, with my hair down it won't be noticed. Eh, don't worry, I'm keeping my hair hidden until we get inside the palace. But, let's hope its cloudy and dark out today."
Gourry purchased lunch and gave Lina a hand up onto the horse again. Without further delay, the companions continued their journey.
"So, you think they'll serve us a big dinner at the palace?" Gourry asked.
"Oh, yeah. All you can eat and delivered right to you at the table. They call them 'courses' and there's lots of them, I guarantee."
"That sounds great, Lina. I could sure use a few courses right now."
"Me, too. Wanna hear about the last meal Phil served there?"
"Yeah, that'll make the time go by," he chuckled.
Lina described in lavish detail every dish she'd ever had, and the miles flew by. Their expectations were high for a sumptuous dinner at the palace, but their conversation on the topic died as they entered the capital city of the kingdom of Seyruun in the late afternoon.
The streets were quieter than Lina had expected. The noise and spirit reminded Lina of what the larger more metropolitan Atlas City had been with its constant bustle of life; that is, before Cardinal Rezo snuffed out the city's vital spark. The contrast, between the Atlas City of the past and what it had deteriorated to today, both sickened and terrified Lina. She remembered visiting Atlas City when it was the teeming capital of an empire with its opulence and squalor, the bursting confidence of its trade, and the tide of wealth and expansion.
She thought back to her home, years ago. News of Cardinal Rezo's "New Order" in Atlas City had hit Lina's nearby birthplace of Zephillia hard, since it housed many dark magic sorcerers. Lina's sister, Luna, joined Rezo's youth corps, the Cephied Knights, but as a spy to undermine his efforts. Lina chose a different path. She had been forced to defy and then lash out against Rezo, his followers, and his Red Guard. Lina was too young to let the fear of dying get in the way of her rebellion. She vowed to use her magic prowess to the fullest to achieve her own concept of a "just end," which was to retain the freedom to cast magic, or die trying. Her renown as a sorceress and of a rebel spread with the Red Guard's vicious slogans, kindling hatred and fear of magic users.
"Inverse witch decimates shrine – Burn Witches before they burn you!"
"You have no defense against them – Turn in Sorcerers to the Red Guard!"
By the time of the fall of Sairaag, she had became an outlaw taking jobs where she could get them from those that still trusted her and had need of her services or from those who hadn't heard of her yet. As Rezo's reach extended, the "cleansings" continued; more magic users were rounded up and exterminated, followed by the destruction of more villages and cities. When she last fled its confines, Atlas City was a glorious ruin sinking into a gentle despair under Cardinal Rezo's dominion.
Now, as they rode through Seyruun Lina recognized the signs; Seyruun was dying as well. The magic that gave the world its vigor was suppressed and replaced by despair and hopelessness. The past was all around as an aching memory filled with beauty that crumbled.
Lina and Gourry rode along with a few other travelers in the autumn sunlight over the White Magic Capital of the World's famous marble pavements. They observed wanderers and expatriates talking in hushed tones, while local Seyruunians went about their daily business, outwardly docile, seemingly apathetic. Cardinal Rezo's elite Red Guard strolled with casual arrogance around the streets and squares of the city they did not love.
Lina tugged at her hood, securing her hair out of sight, not wishing to draw attention to them with a telltale wisp of red hair. Gourry stared straight ahead, steering them toward the palace, whose spires could be seen from anywhere in the city. Silently, both vowed to change the balance, starting with Prince Philionel.
They arrived at the magnificent entrance to the palace just as the early dusk was falling. The fretted and carved facades of the palaces facing the west were bathed in gold. Through shadowed windows shone the flickering of thousands of candles in salons and ballrooms. A groom took Gourry's horse, admiring the animal's powerful frame and mild manner. Gourry was about to advise him as to the steed's care, when an armed palace guard signaled Gourry to enter through the main gates.
"Don't worry, Gourry," Lina assured him. "They treat horses great here."
As she and Gourry approached the palace entrance, the doorman drew to attention at his post. He stood taller than Gourry, height being the most important attribute for his job, and from that advantage briefly peered down his nose at Lina, who appeared to be a novice valet, at best.
"Yes?" he directed, finally, at Gourry.
"Tell Phil that Lina's here to see him," Lina commanded.
The doorman raised a single eyebrow in question, but continued to address Gourry.
"Are you expected, sir?" the doorman asked him.
Lina pushed closer, demanding attention. "No, but my mother wasn't expecting me either. That's not the point. Tell the prince that Lina Inverse is here to see him."
"Lina...Inverse... Oh my," the doorman said, clearing his throat nervously. "Certainly. That can be arranged. Ah, but you must leave your weapons at the door. Palace rules. I'm certain you can understand."
"What was that? My weapons? Okay," Lina said lightly, handing her sword over without a fight.
Magic was her best weapon, and they couldn't take that from her so simply. Gourry, however, wouldn't part with his sword, not that Lina could blame him. His sword of light was pretty spectacular, but rules were rules. She was about to punch him senseless and take the sword herself, when she had a sudden and clever idea.
"It's not really a sword," she told the guard. "Just the hilt. Show'em, Gourry."
Gourry's confused expression and lack of response frustrated Lina to the point nearly regretting not having brained him earlier. She reached over and covertly pressed the button unlatching the steel blade from the hilt. Grabbing the ornamented pommel, she pulled it up and handed the hilt over.
"See? Just a handle." She shrugged meaningfully. "Empty scabbard. Long, sad story. Why he wants to wear that thing is a wonder to us all, but that's the way some guys are about their favorite toys. So, you gonna let us in, or what?"
Gourry was allowed to keep it, and they were permitted entry. They stepped past blazing torches, the smell of smoke heavy in the air, as the doors swung open by liveried footman revealed a vast hall, grand yet so sad within its malevolently-occupied decadence.
Lina and Gourry were led through the great arched doorway. To either side rose matching flights of stairs. Lina remembered being told by friendlier doormen, in kinder days that the stairs to the right led to the family residences. She had stayed in rooms to the left. They continued onto the main room, which was so large it stretched from one side of the building to the other. It was filled with light, gigantic mirrors reflecting the glitter from many tens of crystal-hung candelabra. Lina could see the discomfort in the set of Gourry's jaw. She tossed him a reassuring smile, while unconsciously straightening her shoulders.
"I've been here before. Phil's an okay guy."
Gourry smiled back down at her, but he was decidedly uncomfortable in the setting. A servant appeared, asked for their full names, and then indicated that they should accompany him. As they past a casual grouping of dignitaries on their way to the throne, the look of concern remained in Gourry's eyes. He ignored the curious stares, focused on the grandiose chair, and found the man he figured they had come to see.
"That him?" Gourry asked, blinking at the throne fleetingly.
"Yeah."
"Mr. Gourry Gabriev accompanying Miss Lina Inverse," the servant said, presenting the pair to Prince Philionel.
"He's Amelia's father?"
"Yep!"
"Xelloss' got his work cut out for him, then."
"Zelgadiss, too," Lina added with a grin.
End Capriones, Chapter Nineteen.