Blazing Waves, Burning Rain

by Ormiss

[Suikoden III] [Chris & Hugo] (Epic retelling of Suikoden III, with a strong focus on the Chris/Hugo pairing.) Tagline: In a world that twists around the promise of power emanating from the 27 True Runes, can the minds of two opposites who are thrust against each other in battle see past the illusions and find each other's hearts?

18. Chapter 17: Scar of Destruction

-Chris-

"The Ironheads hide their faces behind helmets. They hide their faces, because they are afraid to let the Spirits see them. They have grown apart from the land, like a flower that withers and dies. But where the flower turns to soil and feeds the earth, the Ironheads till the soil until it lies fallow and dead beneath their boots. They are a disease that infects through gold and silver coins. They are a plague, and a plague knows no mercy."

—Lament of Korgodth, First of the Saraak Warrior Chiefs

Chapter XVII: Scar of Destruction

(--)

-Chris-

Chris shielded her eyes from the midmorning sun as she looked out across the encamped caravan from the doorway of the wagon. The Wind Seekers were milling back and forth, rolling barrels of water and wine; pulling wheelbarrows rattling with bundles of cured meat and spice jars. She could see little sign of preparations for returning to the road. The tall grass had been stamped out into a level field to form a green, and the men were arranged in teams raising poles decorated in twigs and flowers to tower over the field. Where sun-bathed rock shot up from the green, Wind Seeker women draped in striped and fringed shawls stood around a crackling open fire, bracelets jingling as they carved the sides of boar meat and basted it with spiced gravy from long brass ladles, preparing it for smoking under a tawny awning. This was not a caravan preparing to leave.

Chris quickly tied her hair into a ponytail and lowered herself onto the ground. She could see Bylsma surrounded by Wind Seekers, listening to their concerns and giving directions. Chris stalked right up to her, nudging her way through the throng around the woman.

"I do not see moving wagons."

Bylsma wore a pleasant smile on her lips as she turned to face Chris. She raised an eyebrow. "Why, dear Helen, have you forgotten about the festival?"

Chris gaped. The Wind Seekers around her were filtering away to go about their work, some muttering under their breath or giving her angry looks, leaving the two of them alone on the green. She knitted her brows.

"The Grasslands are being invaded. Have you forgotten?" She nodded at the Harmonian encampment, off to the side near the edge of the circle of wagons, where the soldiers were arrayed in rows and lines among their orderly tents for the morning inspection. Huarn had emerged from his tent and now paraded along the columns, scrutinizing each man under his command. "This is neither the time nor the place for a festival," Chris said.

Bylsma chuckled. "Come now; we wouldn't let this little squabble of a war keep us from the Feast of the Five Moons. It is not our way to order our lives around the arguments of soldiers. 'Never a year without fear.'"

Chris had heard that expression before. Skirmishes between Zexen and the barbarians had become almost a tradition as deep-rooted as the passing of the sun and moon. For the unaligned tribes living on the fringe of Grasslands society, war was just another facet of their lives; a natural hazard to adapt to. The Wind Seekers were not the only ones who had grown accustomed to incessant warfare, but she had always seen it in a different light. She had always believed that there could be no alternative. No other choice than to fight. Chris glanced back to see Hugo emerging from the wagon and hopping down from the driver's seat. She was not quite so sure anymore.

Chris nodded. "I understand. However, I urge you to reconsider."

Bylsma's smile showed teeth. "This is not for you to decide, Helen." She pulled her arm from its sleeve, holding it before Chris to display the Symmetry Rune. The sinuous crest pulsed with a silvery light from beneath the skin, most of the glow drowned out by the sun. "You have simply to obey your elder, and our traditions. Yes?"

Hugo strolled up beside her. He split looks between the two women, then asked, "Are we stopping?"

Chris' shoulders slumped. "Yes."

Hugo grunted, then leaned in to whisper, "You should never have sworn that oath, dear."

Chris flushed scarlet with embarrassment. She gave him a dirty look.

Bylsma smiled. "Good. Now, you two should be preparing for the feast. You wouldn't want to confuse our guests." She cocked her head at the Harmonian camp. Captain Huarn, having finished his inspection, stood leisurely watching them with his hands clasped behind his back.

Chris wiped her forehead, gritting her teeth at the woman. "You do not need to remind me."

Hugo shrugged. "How can we help?"

Bylsma took a step forward and placed one hand on each of their shoulders.

"You are newly wed. This Feast of the Five Moons is in your honor. It's to remind you of your commitment to each other."

Chris and Hugo exchanged glances.

"What?" she asked.

"You will spend the day in preparation," Bylsma said, dropping her hands and backing off. "When the sun sets, the feast will begin."

They were stopping for an entire day? Chris groaned. "Is there any way we could carry out the festival sooner?"

Bylsma's eyes narrowed. "At sunset. No sooner. In the meantime, the two of you should spend some time apart."

"I'll help you with that," a voice said. A woman sauntered up from behind, putting a delicate hand on Hugo's shoulder. She smiled sweetly. "I am Rakma, tiam to the elder."

Chris gave a start, narrowing her eyes at Hugo.

He seemed to sag under the woman's touch. He scratched his neck, glancing between Rakma and Chris. "Tiam… It means she is daughter to the elder's late sister, who has returned to the Spirits."

"You don't mind if I borrow your husband, do you?" Rakma asked with a tittering laugh.

Chris smirked. "I must ask that you return him in the same condition you received him."

Rakma laughed, tugging at Hugo's arm. Chris' lips twitched, but her smile did not falter. She felt an immediate dislike for the woman. Something about how she kept sweeping her one hand across the side of her face and tossing her hair. Did she think that she was subtle? Chris hoped not.

Hugo started to protest, but sighed when he found no support in the eyes around him. "Fine."

Rakma glanced back several times as she led Hugo off across the green, smiling and talking. With slouched shoulders, for once Hugo looked ungainly.

Lily was suddenly beside Chris, scowling at Rakma's back.

"You shouldn't leave him with that woman. Who knows what will happen." Her hands worked along the brim of her hat, as if no position would satisfy her.

Chris stared at her. "Do not be silly."

Lily raised a finger at Chris, shaking her head. "She's flirting with him. I can tell."

Chris rolled her eyes. "It is as Caesar said. You are a very perceptive woman."

Lily nodded absently, keeping her eyes on the couple as Rakma led Hugo to a group of women roasting meat and vegetables over an open fire. The women stopped their work to chat, and were soon laughing about something or other. Lily spared a quick glance at Chris, "I know. It's due to my cultured upbringing."

Chris groaned. "Lily, Hugo is just a boy. You cannot seriously believe that he would be interested in someone like Rakma."

Lily frowned at Chris. "You ought to take better care of your husband."

Chris threw up her arms.

-Rina-

The Grasslanders encountered the first of the Harmonian vanguards half a mile from the Uluath River. The horses' hooves were still damp from the crossing of the ford when the light cavalry thundered into sight. Bellows rose from the crest of the Grasslanders' forces, where Karayan warriors, still displaying mournful red bands on their sleeves, crowded alongside saraak shock troops leveling halberds and voulges at the enemy. Behind the closed front ranks, Rina could pick out small groups of Safir bowmen, their ears pierced with mementos of their fallen comrades. Lucia stood shoulder to shoulder with the frontline, brandishing a barbed whip in each hand.

Horses reared in panic, and the Harmonians made to retreat, but the Grasslanders struck from cover and took them by surprise. Rina raised her hand and invoked the power of the Mother Earth Rune to ripple out into ruptures in the soil beneath the hooves of the Ironheads' horses. Stones shot from the earth as the ground buckled. The steeds stumbled and fell, throwing riders and screaming as bones rattled and cracked. A cold smile played on Rina's lips. She was satisfied to see the Harmonians crumple. Her own ears were still raw with iron rings, each one a memento of a friend she'd buried in the Safir mountain home. The Harmonians would repay that debt in blood.

The outstretched Harmonian line met the Grasslanders with an audible crack. Steel clanged against weapons and armor and bit into flesh, severing muscle and tendon and spraying blood within the chaotic mass of people and animals. The group broke, and Harmonians fled from the edges of battle. Serrated arrows found their backs, mowing the fleeing soldiers down in the tall grasses.

The Harmonian lieutenant shouted out orders, standing firm at the heart of the battle. He was surrounded by half a dozen cavalrymen still seated on their horses, and another dozen or so unhorsed and clinging to their spears and bloodied swords. Then Lucia was among them, leading a small group of her own elite. She danced through the web of steel. The whips flashed, and men fell around her. The lieutenant spurred his horse towards her, raising his sword to take her head for a trophy. She turned, wrapped a whip around his arm, and tugged. He jerked and fell from the saddle. In one fluid motion, Lucia clutched the horse's empty saddle and hung from the side, snapping the coil of her whip at the man's neck. The lieutenant went still.

The remaining Harmonians were cut down. In a minute, the din of battle had receded, replaced by the cawing of ravens as the birds wheeled overhead, awaiting a feast. Rina pressed her lips together. At Uluath River, the ravens would have their fill.

-Hugo-

The sound of tall grass bending underfoot accompanied Hugo and Rakma as they strolled through the outskirts of the caravan. Curls of smoke rose from the green between the wagons, and a muddled din of chatter interspersed with merry laughter nearly drowned out the clang of steel and scuff of boots on bare dirt coming from the Harmonian encampment in the caravan's midst.

Rakma had paraded Hugo through group after group of her people, a flurry of thinly veiled greetings introducing him to most anyone, from the elderly matrons draped in fringed shawls and segmented clay necklaces to fresh-faced children, scurrying around the men as they labored, or playing games with twigs and clear glass beads in the dirt.

"You're not much different from us Grasslanders," Hugo said, gesturing towards the green. He glanced at Rakma, but no more. For whatever reason, the woman kept smiling, reminding Hugo of a black-tailed fox stalking a rabbit through a thicket of gnarlwood bushes. He couldn't shake the feeling that he had too much in common with the rabbit.

Chandelier earrings of polished brass clinked in Rakma's ears as she swayed her head. "We are Grasslanders, Hugo."

He grunted. "But you're also Zexen."

"Yes."

Hugo shook his head. "It doesn't make much sense to me. Why don't you stick with either side? Wouldn't that be simpler?"

A wide grin split Rakma's face. "And you would have us side with the Clans."

He shrugged. "You seem more like clansmen than Zexen to me."

Rakma laughed; a soft tittering sound. "That's because you watch us with a clansman's eyes. You see much that is the same, but not quite enough… And the Zexen see much that is the same, but… not quite enough. We cannot change the way we are, Hugo. The way the Goddess made us."

Hugo grunted. The way the Spirits made us. "You spend most of your lives in the Grasslands. The Zexen won't protect you." He swept his hand at the wagons. "You're not equipped to protect yourselves. You trust to the clans to protect you."

Rakma smiled. "We've never asked you to protect us."

Hugo stiffened, but then stopped to exhale slowly. "No." But how could they ignore their plight?

They had stopped near the edge of the Waterwood, a small forest Hugo knew to be about an hour's trek from edge to edge through berry bushes and sparse bramble thickets. Rakma's lacquered acacia bracelets clattered as she stretched her hands out behind her back, puffing her chest up.

"Let's talk about something else. About her."

Hugo stared at Rakma. "Who?"

She laughed. "Your wife, of course."

"Oh."

"We are supposed to be cousins, after all. I'm supposed to know all about you."

Hugo sighed. "I'm starting to dislike my new family."

Rakma laughed, hands planted on her stomach.

Hugo glowered at her. "Anyway, there's not much to tell."

She peered up at him. "So there's nothing between the two of you? I find that difficult to believe."

"Believe it or not," Hugo said, half turning away. "It is what it is. We used to be enemies." The thought filled him with memories. It felt like an eternity since he climbed into her bedroom with a dagger drawn. "Now we're… friends." He shrugged.

"Friends," Rakma said. She studied her fingernails. "Isn't it funny how quick she was to accept your ruse?" She gave him a piercing look. "Isn't it funny how quick you were to suggest it?"

Hugo stared at her, feeling his cheeks slowly fill with color. He shook his head, waving his hand dismissively.

"It was just a spur of the moment. It means nothing. We are barely friends. We tolerate each other; that's all."

"So you say," Rakma said with a nod for emphasis. "But are you sure she feels the same way?"

Hugo tried to laugh, but the sound got stuck in his mouth. He'd never thought of it that way. But no; that was impossible. The moon would sooner rise at dawn. Chris couldn't possibly have feelings for him. He quickly quashed a memory of his dreams from his mind. It meant nothing. He frowned at Rakma. The woman was putting the most absurd ideas into his mind.

"I'm going for a walk."

Rakma grinned. "Don't run too hard."

Hugo glanced back at her as he left. Run? From what? Was she taunting him? He shook his head. Women made no sense at all.

Least of all Chris.

-Chris-

Boots struck dirt in rapid succession, followed by the ringing clang of steel on steel. Sweat pearled on the soldier's strained face. Huarn reached in and put his elbow in the man's stomach. He grunted and collapsed his guard, receiving a swift kick to his chin. His sword clattered against the fresh dirt.

Wheezing, the soldier laid on his back trying to catch his breath. Huarn put his foot on the hilt of the dropped sword and gestured for the man to be removed from the ring. Two square-jawed soldiers in their training tabards separated from the line to drag the man off, tracking dirt off into the grasses surrounding the sparring ring.

Chris stood at the edge of the cleared dirt, hands clasped at her waist as she watched the spectacle. Lily stood at her side, elbows out and fists against her sides.

Sword out, Huarn paced four steps in one direction, then retraced his steps, eyes passing over his soldiers. Huarn turned to look down his nose at Chris.

"I've heard it said, Helen, that the Silver Maiden is an accomplished swordsman."

Chris smiled. "I have heard many rumors, all conflicting."

Huarn swung around and kept pacing. "Of course, I find it difficult to believe that a Zexen knight could be a match for a properly schooled Harmonian swordsman. And I especially find it hard to believe that a woman could."

Chris' smile did not waver. She felt a measure of pride at that.

"As you say, Captain Huarn."

He scoffed, then bent down to pick the discarded sword from the dirt. In one single motion, he rose and threw the blade at her.

Chris froze, fighting her instincts. She remained in place as the blade whirled towards her.

With a dull thud, the blade bit into the earth between her legs, swaying like a tall sheaf of grass in a breeze. Chris exhaled slowly, glaring at Huarn.

"Pick it up," he said.

Chris leaned down and gripped the hilt, resisting the urge to test its weight. She pulled it up like a wooden paddle, holding it upright, parallel to her breast, the way she imagined a beginner might.

"I am afraid to disappoint you, Captain Huarn. I am no fighter."

Lily placed a hand on Chris' shoulder and stepped forward.

"I'll fight you."

Huarn bowed his head at the girl, smiling.

"Pardon, Lady Pendragon, but that won't do. A sword fight between the daughter to Tinto's mayor and a Harmonian captain? I wouldn't want anyone to misinterpret."

Chris could not imagine anyone would misinterpret Huarn's intentions. She shook her head, strolling past Lily and into the ring.

"How do I hold this?" she asked, pointing the sword at Huarn.

"Like so," Huarn said, leveling his own weapon at just the right angle towards her.

Chris mimicked him, but dropped her stance several inches too low. Goddess, it was difficult to fight the years of training and conditioning.

Huarn moved in a flash. He slammed his sword against hers, causing her hands to ring with the force. She winced, backing off and shaking her hands one at a time.

"I told you, I—"

"Here I come," Huarn said. His eyes gleamed furiously, and his hair tossed with each step as he advanced in a blur of motions. His sword danced, clanging against hers from both sides, striking sparks once, twice, three times. Chris held onto the sword for dear life, gritting her teeth as she tried to repress her reactions. The flat of his blade smacked against her arms, cutting cloth and leaving bruises. She backed off, barely keeping her balance. Huarn pressed the attack, driving her around the ring as he delivered punishing broadside blows to her arms, legs, and sides. Grunting with pain, she slouched, bunching up like a wounded wolf. She could see anger flaring in Huarn's eyes, frustration building with each stroke of his sword. As his fury built, so too did the force of the blows. Chris yelped with each hit. Finally, with a strike to her hand, she let go the hilt.

As it clattered to the ground, Huarn erupted with rage. He howled, leaping forward to plant his knee in his stomach. The blow knocked the air from her lungs, and he followed with a shove, pushing her back. She hit the ground hard, head ringing, world turning briefly dark and then returning in a blur. Her limbs ached.

"Stop! Stop it!" Lily shouted.

Chris shook her head, looking up. Lily was standing above her, arms outstretched to either side between her and Huarn. The captain's face was scarlet with rage and slick with sweat, his breast and shoulders heaving like an agitated bear. He wielded his sword like a club.

Chris could see people all around them; Wind Seekers gathering at the edge of the scene, their eyes wide with shock and disbelief. Their shocked murmurs were low but audible in the silence following Lily's outburst. The Harmonian soldiers surrounded their captain, hands on their weapons but frozen in place, like perched hawks ready to alight at the first sign of trouble.

Huarn turned to spit, sheathing his sword. He ran his hands through his hair, and pushed Lily aside to look at Chris. His eyes were still flashing, and his hands quivered with rage and frustration.

"Well, you can't fight. But that doesn't prove anything. Honestly, I'd hoped the rumors were true." With a shrug, he turned and stalked away.

Directing a scowl at Huarn's back, Lily reached down to help her up. After a moment, Bylsma pushed through the crowd and took her other arm, and the two women dragged her to her feet. Chris pushed away, standing on her own shaky legs.

"Are you alright?" Lily asked, frowning.

Chris shook her head. The world was still spinning. Wiping sweat-clogged dirt off her clothes, she looked down at the ruined garments. The jacket and breeches were cut in dozens of places, and dirt had smudged the fabric in large streaks.

"I need a change of clothes." She wrinkled her nose. She stank of sweat. "And a bath."

-Hugo-

Hugo's eyes widened as he recognized the figure crouched by the wagon, pulling on the second of a pair of scuffed leather boots. Nash had changed most about his appearance, dying his hair a surprisingly convincing hazel and replacing his fine green jacket with a fringed leather vest striped in shades of red and yellow and black that he must have found in the caravan.

"I was starting to think that you left," Hugo said.

Nash looked up. As recognition dawned on his face, he grinned.

"Not quite, my lad, not quite." Pulling on the boot, he stood up and glanced at Hugo. "I see you're not with your lady love."

Hugo smirked. "We decided to spend some time apart."

Nash nodded. "Wise. I've found that all relationships begin to wear on you after a while." He smoothed down the vest, peering at himself from different angles.

Hugo scratched at his neck. "Nash, I wanted to ask you something."

Nash gave a start, looking up. "What's that?"

"Do you, uh, ever… dream?"

Nash raised his brow. "Where I come from, everyone does."

"Sure, but, I mean, do you ever dream," Hugo paused to clear his throat, "About someone? A person?"

A smile slowly spread on Nash's lips. "Sometimes. You'll have to be more precise. Just the other day, I had a dream about my late mother."

Hugo's cheeks burned. "Not that kind of dream."

Nash chuckled, leaning down to tie the worn laces on his boots. "What are you really asking, Hugo?"

Hugo stared at the air, shrugging and pacing about. "I mean, we're both men. What I mean to ask is, it's natural to dream about women, right?"

"That's more a statement than a question, but sure."

Hugo nodded. "And it's natural to dream about beautiful women."

"Sure, why not."

Hugo swallowed, crossing his arms and tilting his head to study, with great interest, the crude red-and-blue animal-shaped motif painted on the side of a wagon. "So, uh, it doesn't mean anything, right? It's just a natural thing. For men."

Nash came up behind him, placing a hand firmly on his shoulder.

"Hugo, I insist that you keep dreaming about beautiful women. After all, it's far preferable to dreams about withered old crones."

Hugo turned to face him. Nash's face was drawn, without the trace of a smile. Hugo shoved him.

"Don't joke around. I'm serious."

Nash chuckled. "Sure, sure."

Hugo averted his eyes. "What if it's just one woman?"

Nash grunted. "Limiting, don't you think? I'd say it's fine as long as it's the most beautiful woman."

Hugo kept his mouth shut.

Nash sighed. "Sure, it doesn't mean anything, I guess. Who's the woman?"

"No one in particular."

"Ah." Nash nodded. "That one."

Hugo glared at him.

Nash glanced at the edge of the caravan, where a group of children were running and laughing along the side of a wagon, twirling and tossing a length of rope festooned with feathers between them.

"Not that it has anything at all to do with what you just talked about, but you missed quite the show, just now." Seeing the puzzled look on Hugo's face, he grimaced. "Your wife had a falling out with our good Captain Huarn."

Hugo froze. "What are you saying? What happened?"

Nash shook his head. "Nothing serious, but she left to take a bath in the woods."

The scent of wet wildflowers and thornbush berries came to Hugo's mind. The secluded pond in the Waterwood was a fixture of his childhood. In peaceful times when they were children, Lulu and he had spent many lazy days in those waters.

He nodded. "So she's alright. That's good."

Nash's eyes narrowed, and he glanced at the edge of the woods. "Say… Speaking of beautiful women, Chris is going to be as nature made her in that forest."

Hugo cleared his throat. "So?"

"So it's my opinion that we have a duty to the creed of manliness here. We would be letting men everywhere down if we didn't try to sneak a peek."

Hugo gaped. "What?"

Nash nodded.

"She might even be insulted if we didn't."

Hugo's eyes widened. "She would not."

"When the runes weave an opportunity of this sort, we have to take advantage of it. Don't you think she's beautiful?"

"No!"

Nash blinked. "You don't think she's beautiful?"

"That's not what I—" Hugo groaned, raking his hands through his hair. "I mean—"

"You know," Nash added, "Lily's there too."

Hugo fingered his collar. "That's not the point. We aren't going to do anything like that."

Nash went silent. Then he shrugged.

"Suit yourself. I'm going. Someone has to do the right thing." Hugo would have sworn the man was serious!

"Fine. Go." Nash wouldn't. There was no way he would.

Nash started off towards the edge of the Waterwood. He glanced back, grinning at Hugo. Just before he disappeared behind a wagon on the edge of the caravan, he turned back to wave.

Hugo stood his ground. Of course he was only joking. His heart pounded. He was joking, wasn't he? Nash had been gone for less than a minute when Hugo decided he had been serious. Cursing the True Runes, he set off after the man.

-Chris-

The smell of wildflowers was thick in the clearing. The serene waters of the pond erupted as Lily leapt in, splashing water over Chris and over the sun-dried rocks peeking out from the banks of the tiny lake. Unflinching, Chris wiped water from her cheeks and continued to peel off her dirty clothes. Wincing at the sight of the bruises and welts covering her arms, she cursed Huarn's name under her breath. She glanced down at the bundle at her feet; clothes she had borrowed from Rakma in a hurry. The undergarments looked comfortable, but the slender wool dress in stripes of purple, white, and red sported a conspicuously high-cut skirt, and left the arms bare. Bare! She would feel naked. The wide girdle looked uncomfortable, and the black stockings were barely decent. Without clothes of her own, Chris had to remember the saying about beggars and choosers, but she could not help but think that Rakma had chosen the most outrageous outfit at her disposal.

Lily's face broke the surface, her brown hair plastered to the sides of her face.

"C'mon. What's taking you so long?"

Chris knitted her eyebrows. The water looked so… dark. "Are you sure this is sanitary?"

Lily burst into peals of laughter, shaking water from her hair. "Don't be a goose! Were you expecting a handful of servants to wash and braid your hair?"

Chris opened her mouth, then frowned. "Of course not." One would have done just fine.

Dropping her jacket, Chris slipped the straps of her blouse past her shoulders, hugging the garment against her chest as she paused to look in both directions.

"Are you not worried that someone might see us?"

Lily arched her back, splashing water with each stroke of her arms, gliding across the pond. "Don't be such a prude. We're in the middle of the woods. Anything that sees your knightly rump here will be more interested in having it for dinner than anything else."

Chris sighed, frowning worriedly as she slipped out of her remaining clothes and hurried into the water. The hairs on her arms stood on end at the sudden chill, but she ducked down to her chin, breathing quickly. Lily had a sullen look on her face, eyes narrowed.

"What is it?"

Lily shook her head. "Nothing." A mischievous smile built on her face. "So, tell me about you and Hugo."

Chris toed through the muddy bottom, sticking to the shallow parts. "There is nothing to say. We are just trying to survive." Leaning her ear to the surface, she wrung a lock of hair in the water and was at once pleased and distraught to see that the golden yellow color stuck to the strands.

Lily scowled, sending ripples out around her as she treaded water. "Don't dance around the subject. Of course there's something going on. You two should be at each other's throats like snakes and mongooses, and here you are, pretending to be married?"

"It is a charade, nothing more. An inconvenience."

"So you keep saying. But it doesn't add up." Lily tilted her head. "Admit it; you think he's handsome."

Chris gave a short laugh as her cheeks filled with color. "Do not be ridiculous. He is just a boy."

Lily leaned back, smirking. "Right. And you're a wizened oak. You know, for an old hag, you have surprisingly smooth skin."

Chris shrugged. "I am considerably older than he is. I very much doubt that the thought would even cross his mind. Boys his age do not concern themselves with such things."

Lily's eyes crinkled with laughter. "Is that what you think?" She shook her head in apparent amusement. Then, she sighed, weaving whirlpools on the surface with her fingers. "It hardly seems fair, you know, for you to have such perky breasts even though you're a knight." She frowned. "With all those early days and all the harsh regimen, I would've thought…" She finished the thought with a shrug.

Chris coughed, washing down her shoulders. Her eyes widened as she noticed a mark on her arm, and held it aloft. It was the crest of the Hunter Rune, still glowing faintly where it sat branded into the flesh of her right bicep. Was the same true for Hugo? She had seen his bare arms on several occasions; how had she not noticed?

;Lily wrinkled her nose, swimming closer. "What's that?"

"It is a rune. It is something Hugo and I—"

There was a rustle of leaves behind them, and someone burst through the undergrowth. Yelping, Chris threw her arms around her chest and ducked beneath the surface. The rush of water roiled in her ears as the world went deaf. When she emerged, moments later, spitting water, she stared wide-eyed at the dumbstruck young man standing on the rocks.

Hugo had frozen in place like a statue, his eyes filling with terror.

"Where's Nash?" he blurted out.

Chris gaped. Lily thundered through the water, shouting, "Hugo! What were you thinking?" The girl swept her arm across the surface, sending a spray of water splashing into Hugo's face. He just stood there, his hair dripping wet against his forehead. He pursed his lips.

"I was just—"

Chris felt heat building in her face, and her breath quickened. "Why would you expect to find Nash here? Are you expecting company? A partner to help better frame the experience?"

Hugo stared at her, mouth working in silence.

"Well?" Chris snapped. "What are you waiting for? Leave." Her chest heaved with each breath.

"Leave." Hugo slowly nodded. He seemed to test the word on his tongue. "Right." His face burned a bright crimson as he turned and strode away through the bushes.

Chris and Lily waited in silence for several minutes before Lily spoke.

"Do you think he's gone? What if he's hiding?"

Chris exhaled slowly, then shook her head. "No. Hugo would not do that." And yet, he had done this. But as her temper began to cool and her heartbeat slowed, she became more amenable to the idea that there had been some sort of misunderstanding. Her cheeks flared again. There would be explanations; that much was sure.

Someone cleared her throat, and a voice sounded from the bushes behind them.

"I feel," a woman said, strolling into view, "We should make our presence known, now that Lucia's boy has made such an unexpected appearance." The woman filled out a wool dress-jacket with embroidered details of green thread, lined with rabbit's fur and slit at the thighs to reveal a pair of near-hidden brown shorts on legs otherwise bare to the boots.

"It wasn't unexpected," a childish voice said. Behind the woman, a girl in a long flat dress leaned out to wave at them, eyes shut as she smiled.

Chris tensed. "Who are you? You look like Grasslanders." It occurred to her that she had no weapon with her. In the pond, she was an easy target.

Dark brown hair, held in place with a lacquered wooden comb, fell in waves as the woman leaned her head against one shoulder, smiling pleasantly. "I am Yumi." She placed a hand on the girl's shoulder. "And the little tyke is Yun."

Yun's lids popped open, revealing big, bright eyes. A wide smile split a face still showing traces of baby fat. "We're from Alma-Kinan. We've come to take you back with us."

-Rina-

Hails of arrows streaked over Uluath River, sailing back and forth between the approaching Grasslanders on the west side and the hastily erected Harmonian encampments on the east bank. The waters of the ford sloshed with the boots and hooves of warriors contesting the passage, and the river splashed and swirled with each falling body. From her vantage point atop a hillock, surrounded by Safir archers and a small Karayan bodyguard, Rina squinted at the scene, singling out a group of Harmonian reinforcements racing for the ford, and unleashing her Mother Earth Rune upon them. She struck each group in turn, wherever they were separated from the Grasslanders. She opened the earth beneath their feet, or raised ridges of stone to slow their approach, or sent sprays of rock from the ground to batter against their armor and break their bones.

The Harmonian rune bearers kept their distance, their magic brought to bear sparingly upon the Grasslanders. Still there was no sign of the rune bearer who had ambushed them the night before. A mere Cyclone Rune! She hadn't been so humiliated since she was three feet tall. Rina growled, and fangs of stone erupted amid a group of Harmonian cavalry. Could they have surprised them? Perhaps that rune bearer had been killed in a chance encounter with their troops. Still there was something gnawing at her; a doubt in the back of her mind that said that the Harmonians must know what they're doing. She'd fought them before, in Dunan, though Bishop Sasarai had been younger then. He would be shrewder now, and more experienced. She could not imagine that their strategists would be so inept. The Grasslanders pushed them from the river crossing, inch by inch but at an astounding rate. The Harmonians were falling back at an orderly pace, but she saw no signs of true resistance. She wiped sweat from her forehead with the back of her palm and kept focusing her attacks on the retreating soldiers, trying to keep them from organizing. The rune burned against her skin like a fevered ache.

The first saraak and Karayan warriors were spilling out across the grassy east bank of the river when the earth began to shake. Rina gasped and bit her lip as the rune on her forehead flared and seemed to sear her mind. She blinked away tears and looked for the source. A mounted figure had stridden into view on the ridge of the hillside overlooking the river. Surrounded by a bodyguard at least two dozen strong, their breastplates glinting in the noonday sun, Rina knew him even at a distance of two hundred yards.

Bishop Sasarai.

She snatched up the power of her rune and focused it on the bishop. But it was too late. Sasarai turned on the ridge, and she saw the faintest gleam of light from his hand. Then the earth howled beneath her. Screams filled her ears as she lost her feet, and she felt dirt press against her cheek and shoulder. Her head rang, and something pierced her foot and drew blood. She was on the ground, shaking her head and stumbling away from the impact site, where the ground was a crater of raw soil as if a giant had taken a tuft of grass out of the hill. That man… he had a True Rune! She gasped for air, forcing herself to her feet.

The tide had turned in a moment at the ford. All along the crossing, the ground was scarred and wounded by deep craters filling with water between jagged mounds of rock and dirt from which limbs and weapons stuck out at odd angles. The Grasslanders were in full retreat, and the Harmonians chased them across the ford, cutting them down like reeds in the blood-swilling waters. Rina's mind reeled as she watched the scene play out. She heard moans around her, even as arrows began to thwack against the ground just yards away. She tried to wrap her head around what had happened. After Bishop Sasarai's attack, she could see that hundreds must be missing, buried beneath earth and water in the muddy slosh of the Uluath River.

And the slaughter had just begun.

-Hugo-

Hugo found Nash with his back against a wagon, whistling as he whittled on a piece of bloodwood, wood shavings littering the grass around him. His legs were splayed out before him.

Hugo glowered at the man. "You were never serious about looking at her, were you?"

Nash lit up at seeing him. He raised his brow, smiling. "You injure me. Voyeurism is a filthy habit."

Hugo stared at him. His hands balled up into fists at his sides, he thought about strangling the man.

Nash's eyes returned to the raw bloodwood in his hands. "So?"

Hugo sighed, throwing his hands up. "So what?"

Nash gave him a sidelong glance. "Did you see her?"

His cheeks burned. "I wasn't looking."

"That's not what I asked."

"No."

Nash raised an eyebrow. "No what?"

"I didn't see her." Hugo shrugged, clearing his throat.

Nash nodded to himself. He looked up. "Well, keep working on it. I'm expecting a detailed report." He made a grasping motion. "I bet she has firm—"

Hugo's eyes widened. "Stop!"

"…and the cutest little…"

Hugo turned on his heel and pressed his hands against his ears. He had his own images to wrestle down, without Nash making things worse. Chris had a right to be upset with him. She respected him—trusted him—and he felt like he was abusing that trust. She would think him no better than a dog if she knew what filthy thoughts he tried to suppress.

He stalked away from Nash. In his mind, he weighed a thousand possible apologies against the twitching brow of Chris Lightfellow.

-Serfein-

Serfein adjusted the collar of her cloak, wiping sweat from her neck and letting a welcome breeze in against her shirt and breeches. She stood on a small rise overlooking a field of barrows. Each grave was a mound of stones between three and five feet across, sometimes capped by a single standing stone jutting out of the smaller rocks. All were unmarked, and erected in long rows stretching across the empty field. There were hundreds, perhaps thousands of them, all overgrown with holly and sage.

She stopped beside a small barrow and adjusted the strap of her gun against her shoulder. The grave's stones had spilled out of position, crushing the wildflowers around the marker. She reached down, testing the weight of a single stone in her hand.

A crackling sound startled her. She shot up and scanned the horizon. A ringing sound filled her ears and began to build in intensity. Within moments, the noise reached a crescendo, and at once, fire erupted from behind a hill, shooting into the air like a pillar of flame from a Rune Cannon aimed at the sun. But there were no ships here, and certainly no Rune Cannons.

Serfein ran to the crest of the hill, and looked down upon a charred hole in the ground, thirty yards away. She hesitated. The grass had burnt clean around the pit, but the soil itself seemed to glow with an angry red glare, as if the sun had seared the skin of the world itself, which now showed a welt. As she made to approach, the ground began to shake.

Serfein looked around. She expected an earthquake, but this was something different. Animals began to charge into view. Wild boars thundering past, tusks flailing against anything and everything that came near. Rabbits hopped from hiding place to hiding place. Gazelles dashing about madly. A lion, snapping its teeth without direction and loping along the edge of the hill. The animals stampeded, as if driven by the pulse of the glowing pit from which the violent eruption had surged forth. A squirrel darted between Serfein's legs, and as she turned, a wild dog slammed against her leg, knocking her aside with a snarl. The dog rushed past her, paying her no heed.

She cocked her rifle and stared as the fields surrounding the hill filled with moving beasts. In the glowing pit from which the fire had been born, she could sense the influence of something sinister—a magic far older and more mature than she'd expected to find in the Forbidden Grounds. If she knew her history, it could be one thing only.

Slowly, Serfein began to feel the same thing that had roused the animals. A heartbeat, drowning out the sound of her own heart. Something was awakening, and the eruption she had seen was only the beginning. Clutching her cloak against her body, Serfein sprinted towards the Wind Seekers' encampment. Behind her, she felt the heartbeat build in intensity.

-Chris-

"I thought you said you were here to observe things," Chris said. She glanced back as she pushed through the bushes. Branches whipped her cheeks. She bit her lip and groaned.

"That's not all of it," Yumi said. The woman swayed past trees and bushes, strolling with natural grace through the forest. "We're very concerned that you must return with us at once."

"Not really," Yun said. The girl followed in Yumi's wake with a smile stuck on her face. Her eyes were closed, but her hands were grasping at branches and brushing against bark along her way. "Things will happen as they happen."

Yumi glowered at the girl. "Don't you have something more helpful to say?" In response, Yun's smile broadened.

Chris shook her head. "I do not believe you are my enemy, but—"

"We could've killed you while you were taking a swim," Yumi said. The most innocent smile spread on her face.

"—But," Chris said, "I am still alive. So, I grant you that." A branch stung her cheek. She grasped and cracked it, then tossed the broken branch aside. "Still, you expect me of all people to accept an invitation to Alma-Kinan?"

Lily nodded, brows knitted. "Yes, don't you know that Grasslanders don't like Zexeners at all? Of course you do. You're Grasslanders. Do you really expect her to come with you?" The woman followed in Chris' footsteps, seemingly oblivious to the trail that Chris blazed for her.

Yun hid her smile with a hand. "I already know that you'll come. You just haven't decided to yet."

Yumi glanced at the broken branch at Chris' feet. "The women of Alma-Kinan are more willing to embrace other cultures. We do not hate the people of Zexen, as the other clans do."

Chris looked at her through lidded eyes. "It is my experience that the men are more belligerent."

Yumi burst into laughter, tossing her hair. The laugh turned into a grin, and she shrugged. "We don't have that problem."

Chris raised an eyebrow at Yumi, but the woman did not respond.

"At any rate," Chris said, "I see no reason to accept your invitation. I have more important matters to attend to."

Yun tapped her lower lip. "Perhaps I should tell her."

Chris stepped over a rotted log at the edge of the forest. The circle of wagons was ordered like little footlockers less than fifty yards away. She stopped, and turned to look at Yun. "Tell me what?"

The girl was silent. Then she shook her head. "No, I'll tell her when it feels right."

Yumi looked at the girl and sighed. She turned to Chris. "We will remain, and you can come with us when the time is right. Is that acceptable?"

Chris looked at them in turn. "As long as you call me Helen."

-Hugo-

Hugo felt ill prepared to face Chris when he saw her walk into the circle of wagons. She had not seen him yet, so he hesitated before padding over to her. He drew a deep breath.

"Chris—"

Four sets of eyes turned to him. Before Chris could say anything, a Kinese woman flashed a grin at him and said, "So, you're the husband." Garbed in a fur-lined hunter's dress, the woman's hair fell in waves over her shoulders. Like all her kind, Hugo suspected she was older than she looked.

He felt sweat bead on the back of his neck. Was Huarn looking? He didn't look back. He bowed his head at the woman, and at the girl at her side, and touched his fingers to his forehead. "The Spirits sing of your presence." It had been a while since he'd met anyone from the reclusive forest tribe.

The woman and the girl both repeated the gesture, replying, "I am pleased that they have brought word of me." They smiled at each other, sharing a grin, then turned to Hugo. "I am Yumi," the woman said, "And this is Yun."

He drew a deep breath, the nodded. "I am Hugo."

"Yes, I know," Yun said. Again, she giggled.

Chris raised a brow. "Do you know each other?"

Lily was giving Yumi a strange look. "Yes, do tell."

A smile played on Yumi's lips. "We know Hugo better than he knows us, I think."

Hugo nodded. He glanced at Chris, trying to read the look on her face. But her features were blank; drawn. He couldn't figure out if she were upset or not. So he assumed that she was. He was about to speak when he heard a voice.

"There you are," Bylsma said. Silver rings glinted in her braids as her hair bobbed. She adjusted the long sleeves of her dress as she came up beside them. Her eyes turned to the Kinese women, and widened. "And you are…?"

The women introduced themselves. "We're here for the feast," Yumi added with a smile.

Bylsma looked at Chris. "I trust this won't be a problem?"

Chris sniffed and gestured at the green, where the final preparations for the feast were being made. "As you said, no one would miss the Feast of the Five Moons."

Bylsma smirked. "We can't risk too much." She turned to the newcomers. "What are you doing here?"

"We have business with Helen," Yumi said. The smile was gone from her lips. "That's all you need to know, Wind Seeker."

Bylsma's eyes narrowed, and she wrinkled her forehead. "Girl, don't forget that this is my caravan. My people to protect." Her eyes flashed, and she turned to Chris and Hugo. "You're responsible for them. Do you understand?" She raised her hand to display the crest of the Symmetry Rune.

Hugo snarled. "Enough. We'll dance to your tune, but if you use that rune again—"

"Rune?" Yumi said. Her eyes widened as she studied Bylsma's hand.

Yun gasped. "That's…"

Yumi grabbed Bylsma's wrist. Her eyes were dark. "What in the Spirits' name are you doing?"

"Is there a problem?" Huarn shouted. Metal insignia clinked against his armor as he walked, and his scabbard went tap-tap against his leg as he strode into view. He stood ten yards away, a small smile spreading on his lips as he took in the scene. All involved had frozen in place, eyes staring ahead at each other as if the Harmonian captain would go away if ignored. Hugo felt as though the slightest prick would burst the bubble.

Bylsma snatched her arm back, then turned to smile at the man. "A feast is a serious matter. Sometimes, temperaments run high."

Yumi tensed, but with a look at Chris, she too forced a smile.

"Good," Huarn said, "Because my men are getting hungry. And thirsty." He cradled his sword. "Quite thirsty."

Hugo sought Chris' eyes, and they shared a long look. Her mouth opened as if to speak, but she said nothing. After a time, she turned her gaze away and strode past him. Sweat slicked Hugo's neck as he followed. It would be better to get it over with.

-Huarn-

Candles lit the long tables with dozens of flickering glows. Wax ran down the candlesticks and onto the starched white tablecloth. Huarn shifted in his seat and tapped his fingers against the surface. Chairs seemed taboo to these people.

Hugo and Helen sat at the head of the table, surrounded by what Huarn had been assured were friends and family. The newcomers, a woman and a girl, were introduced as relatives of the groom, though he could see no close resemblance. Then again, he had a first cousin whose nose would put a swine's snout to shame. He guzzled wine from his mug—the spices gave it an earthy quality, or perhaps it was the worn clay mug—and studied the woman closer. This one was no swine at all. The dress seemed modest, but he'd caught his men staring all the more at the woman's curves, and for good reason. Those full, moist lips; he could but imagine what good they could do for a man. He took another swig and slapped the mug down. What was it with Hugo and beautiful women?

"Helen," he said. The light went out of her eyes as she ended her conversation and stared at him. "Maybe you'd be interested to hear that hostilities between Holy Harmonia and the Grasslanders have been initiated."

She stared into her mug. "I had heard that your people initiated hostilities some time ago."

Huarn steepled his hands. "Not true. The Most Exalted Bishop Sasarai does not come with hostile intentions. We've come to pacify this potential hotbed of violence."

She furrowed her brow, then took a sip from the wine. "It did not seem violent before you arrived."

He chuckled. "Your knights have fought the Grasslanders on no less than twelve occasions during the last two years." Eleven, more precisely, but he hoped she'd rise to the bait.

Helen turned to smile at the Wind Seeker girl that set a plate filled with juicy boar meat and steamed vegetables covered in a dark sauce before her. She did not touch it, but looked at him. "You are still convinced that I am the one you are looking for."

He shrugged, leaning back to leave room for his own plate as another girl set it down. Hugo was caught in conversation with the Pendragon woman, but his eyes were wandering to them between smiles and nods. "As I said, my spies assure me so," Huarn said.

A small smile played on her lips. "You should look for new spies."

Those eyes. They had some hold over him. He smirked. "Perhaps." He reached down and stabbed a knife into the meat, treaded a piece on the blade, and munched on it. The meat was just as tender as it had looked, and the spices nearly burned his tongue. Could she be another woman entirely? For a moment only, he wished Serfein was there. Then he banished the thought. There was enough time to break the façade and find the truth. All he had to do was to trust in his own instinct. And his instincts told him just how to unmask the Captain of the Knights.

-Hugo-

Hugo finally managed to excuse himself from Lily's garrulous stories and turned to Chris. She balanced the knife in her hand like a sword, frowning at the untouched meat on her plate.

"Don't you like boar?" he asked.

She blinked, then raised a brow at him. "I see no fork."

"What's a fork?"

She gave him a cold look. "You cannot be serious."

He laughed. "We're barbarians, remember?" At least she was talking to him—maybe she wasn't so angry after all. Then again, women had a way of hiding the fire until you couldn't see the smoke anymore. He leaned in. "Let me show you. Besides, I see Bylsma giving me the eye and I think tradition says I'm supposed to cut the meat for you."

"I see no reason for that. I can cut it myself."

"How else would I prove my manliness?" He stabbed his own knife down and cut loose a triangle.

She gave him a look like he'd told her he had wings. "I beg your pardon?"

He grimaced, shrugging as he held up the meat to her. "I guess women used to be really impressed with a man who could cut his meat. Here, taste it."

She gave the knifed meat a dubious look. Glancing at him, she swallowed and leaned in sideways to nibble at the meat. "This is absurd," she mumbled, producing a handkerchief and dabbing it at her lips as she pulled away. "How will I eat it?"

He handed her the knife. "It's easier if you hold it yourself. I'll just use my hands," he said with a shrug.

She paused. "You are joking."

Hugo already had a slab of meat in his mouth. "Hm?"

"You are not joking." She fluttered her eyes and sighed.

He nudged her shoulder and lowered his voice. "Watch it that Huarn doesn't see right through you."

She shrugged, looking at the meat. "Chris or Helen, you married a Zexen. You shall have to live with it." She paused to frown down at her lap and adjust the breast of her shirt, groaning.

He chuckled, scratching at the Fire Rune on the back of his hand. It was itching like the bite of a dozen flies, all of a sudden. Damned second-rate dockside rune sage. He glanced at Chris. Since she'd returned from the forest she was dressed in Wind Seeker garments, and for some reason it made him notice things about her, like the dark freckles on her cheeks he'd never seen before. A series of moles on her neck. The way her hair tapered off beside her ears. She had longer fingernails than he'd imagined, too. He wondered how that worked with the gloves, and with a sword. Perhaps they'd grown since they left Vinay. How did she keep them so clean?

"Is something amiss?"

He looked up to find her staring at him, a look of concern on her face. He smirked. "No, nothing. I was just thinking about… things."

She nodded soberly. "Things. Yes. Things are complicated, these days." She took a timid bite out of the meat on her knife.

That was the truth of it. He looked down, sighing silently. In his mind, two images warred for his attention. Chris' naked shoulders above the waterline, and Lulu's dead eyes. The sleeveless shirt covered her shoulders now, impossibly smooth as they had seemed, but Lulu's eyes still hammered at him. In his mind, he could see himself through those unseeing eyes. And he hated what he saw. He wanted to apologize to Chris for what had happened earlier, but at the same time, under the admonishing gaze of Lulu, could he bring himself to give her that satisfaction? He stared into the still wine in his mug. He has sworn an oath. But each day, he found himself drifting further and further from what remained of his resolve. Could he forgive her? What would Lulu want him to do? Would he understand? Could Lulu forgive?

Something stirred the wine in his mug once, then twice. Something distant. Something getting closer.

-Chris-

Chris glanced at Hugo. He seemed an ocean away, all of a sudden. She sighed, taking a sip out of her wine. She looked at the nibbled meat on her knife, and put it down. The meat did not taste all that good, anyway. What was he thinking about? She was angry with him, but this was not the time to bring it up. And she was torn about it, too. Absolutely, there was the outrage, but at the same time, she could not help but feel that Hugo had in some ways suffered at her hand. This was a small thing—a significant thing—and she felt guilty thinking about admonishing him. There would be time to explain proper conduct to him. And then there was the flighty side of her mind which rejoiced when he laughed at her; that whispered about how his eyes were so bright and full of life when he was not scowling at her. She wanted that. After all, the more he smiled, the more she could hope that he would come to terms with their bloodstained past. Nothing else. There could be nothing more than that.

Tracing the ring of the mug, she looked over to where Huarn sat wolfing down another serving of meat. For once, the soldier's eyes were not fixed on her. She heaved a sigh of relief. Perhaps even the hawk would lose interest eventually.

"Helen?"

She half rose out of her seat as she turned to face the new voice.

"No, please sit," a young woman said with a smile. She pushed dark brown hair behind her ear as she squatted down beside Chris. "Do you mind?"

Chris plopped back down, then shook her head. "How can I help you?"

The girl laughed, casting her eyes down. "You've already helped me. Do you remember?"

Chris studied her features long and hard. "You are the girl who was being mistreated by the Zexen soldiers at Brass Castle."

The woman nodded. "That's right. It was a brave thing you did, helping me. I wanted to thank you."

Chris shifted in her seat. The woman's beaming smile was almost too intense in its adoration. "I merely did what I felt had to be done."

"I am recently married, too," she said.

Chris made to speak, but nodded instead, smiling. Didn't the girl know? No matter. So much the better if she played along.

"Congratulations," she said.

The woman bit her lip, glancing at a man perhaps a few years older than her, laughing and conversing with several other men at a table on the outskirts of the feast. The seat beside him was vacant. "Thank you," she said. She looked past Chris, at Hugo, and her eyes lit up. "It must be exciting."

Chris smiled apologetically. "I do not follow."

"Being married to a Karayan, I mean. They're so passionate." She giggled.

Chris spared a glance at Hugo, and then smiled dryly. "So I have noticed."

The girl flushed, tracing her finger against a tendril of molten wax on the tablecloth. "He must be a brute in bed."

Chris blinked. In bed? She shrugged, sharing a knowing smile with the girl. "He does not even use the bed, most of the time. He just roughs it out on the floor." Like a vagrant. She'd never understand that. Who doesn't want to sleep in a bed with proper linens and a soft mattress?

The woman's eyes widened as she gaped. She seemed taken aback. "Really?" she gasped. The candlelight revealed that her cheeks were blooming with color, but she seemed somewhat emboldened by the answer. "Isn't that… uncomfortable?"

"He does not seem to mind."

"But, for you?"

Chris raised her eyebrows. "It is no concern of mine. I am satisfied either way."

"I see," the woman said, nodding to herself. "That's remarkable. You two must be so in tune with each other." She sighed. "I fear I'm not settling into married life nearly as well."

Chris did not know what to say to that. She made to speak when Huarn suddenly rose from his seat, hoisting his mug with a big grin.

"A toast!" he said. "A toast, to the bride and groom!"

-Hugo-

Hugo was jolted out of his thoughts. Huarn's words had silenced the crowd, putting an end to the festive sounds Hugo had noted somewhere in the distance as he brooded. Lutes stopped strumming with a note of finality. Couples halted mid-step in their dance. The Wind Seekers had risen from the seats to watch Hugo and Chris. The Harmonian officers had their sleeves rolled up to partake of wine and boar's meat, but they sat straighter now, eyes darting about as if expecting a violent reaction. The common soldiers milled about the circle of wagons, like wolves circling a flock of sheep. Chris and Huarn were staring at each other, but where the captain's face was split by a tight-lipped grin, her features were tense with anticipation.

Hugo raised his mug and stood up. "To the bride and groom." He put a hand on Chris' shoulder. She looked up at him and flashed a small smile, but her eyes were filled with worry. Or perhaps it was the churning feeling in his own stomach he saw reflected on her face. He could almost imagine the ground quivering beneath his feet.

Huarn emptied the mug in one motion, and slammed it down on the table. He leaned forward on the palms of his hands. "I'd like to see a kiss."

Hugo felt a chill at the nape of his neck. Chris' eyes widened and she shot up. He felt his fingers close on her shoulder, and tried to relax the grip, smiling. Shouts of encouragement filled the air. The Wind Seekers were clapping their hands. He glanced at Chris before saying, "I don't want to make my wife uncomfortable."

Huarn tapped the hilt of his sword. "But I insist."

Sweat beaded on Hugo's forehead. He stole glances around, at the Wind Seekers in their ignorant cheer, and the soldiers—a ring of cold steel—that hemmed them in. A quick peck on the cheek might work. He looked at Chris, whose eyes seemed at once overlarge, like full moons hanging in the night sky. Her hair was pale against the night sky, seeming more like her natural silver than the dyed blonde. She'd never looked more vulnerable to him.

"No," he said. He took his hand off her shoulder. "I won't do it."

Huarn's eyes tightened, and his back stiffened. Several of the officers around him stood from their seats, but the captain remained silent.

Hugo felt a hand touch his back, and he turned to see Bylsma settle in against the table like a concerned mother. A smile was plastered onto her face, but the crinkles around her eyes betrayed her distress.

"Do this. Properly."

Hugo stared right back at her. "No."

Bylsma flourished the back of her hand. The Symmetry Rune seemed to glow like an angry sun, almost blinding to his eyes. Hugo gritted his teeth. His temples ached with a hot rage. "I told you never to use it again."

"You leave me no choice." The rune flashed. "Kiss her. Like a husband kisses his wife."

The balanced pattern of circles and lines etched itself into Hugo's vision and through into his mind. There was a feeling like rope coiling and tightening around his throat, and he could almost imagine that he could hear the creaking of the hemp. His body felt heavy as iron as he turned to Chris. He looked into her eyes, and she stared back. She seemed surprisingly calm.

"Hugo, I—"

He shook his head. "I know." Even turning his head to face Bylsma took all the strength of turning a waterwheel against the stream. "There's always a choice," he said. He activated the Fire Rune and gritted his teeth against the heat. "And I'd rather die."

Fire lanced through his arm like needles pricking the skin. He staggered down. Pain pulsed along his flesh, spreading to his fingers and shoulder. Still his body felt like iron, forcing him towards Chris. Bylsma's eyes had widened, but her mouth was tight. He blinked away tears and channeled more power into the rune. The jolt made him gasp. He clutched at his arm, but kept raising the heat. The spell gripping his mind wavered, but remained. He smelled burnt flesh; heard sizzling. He bit down on his lip until he drew blood, and sent more heat into his arm. It didn't seem to work. For a moment, he thought he would pass out, or burn his arm right off. Better that than to force himself upon her, like this. He'd rather die. He forced his lips to smile, fixing his wide eyes on Bylsma. Slowly he felt the spell waver, and with a sound like steel slicing stone, the image of the Symmetry Rune burned from his mind. Gasping for air, Hugo dropped to his knees, clutching his arm as the supernatural heat drained from the limb.

Leaving only the pain.

-Yumi-

Yumi found herself gaping at Hugo as he settled down onto the ground, thin tendrils of smoke rising from his charred arm like steam from a tempered blade. Everything had come to a stop. Cheers and claps had turned to gasps and cries and then to silence, and now there was no sound at all, except for the chirping of crickets in the Grasslands night.

Steel slid against wood as Huarn drew his sword. He leveled it at Chris and shouted, "Seize them!" It was as if the Spirits had all been turned loose at once. The green erupted with activity; tables slammed against the ground, and porcelain and clay crashed as Wind Seekers scrambled for cover. Pots and pans clattered as soldiers kicked their way through the commotion, and men and women screamed as they were pushed aside or hemmed in by Harmonian hands.

The ground shook. Yumi turned in time to see a wild boar thunder through the gap between two wagons. Then a second one followed, and another. Wild dogs and horses stampeded into the circle of wagons like saraak warriors assaulting a wagon fort. She saw a man go down, trampled by a horse's hooves, and another was throw aside like a rag doll by the tusks of a boar. Wagons rattled and shook, and rabbits and squirrels shot beneath the vehicles, crowding the green within like ants fleeing an anthill. A lion roared somewhere.

Yumi grabbed Yun's sleeve and pulled her along. "Don't tell me you saw this coming." Yun's eyes were wide and her mouth hung open. Numbly she shook her head.

A soldier stumbled back after being pushed by a boar. Face to face with the rabid animal he retreated until he bumped into a table. Yumi leaned in and elbowed the man in the face. He grunted and splayed out b ck-first over the table. She climbed the table, hoisted Yun up, then grabbed the man's crossbow and fired a bolt at the boar. The animal squealed like a dozen pigs and went into a frenzy, knocking over another table. She looked around.

"I don't see Chris anymore."

Yun nodded and closed her eyes. Her body quivered as she spoke, "It's alright. Things won't turn out good if we go after her now. We should wait."

Yumi ran a hand across the girl's cheek. She hoped her touch would prove reassuring. "What for?"

Yun bit her lip. Her eyes popped open. "I can't see things so clearly just now…"

It was all Yumi could do not to laugh. Boars tore ruts in the ground as they smashed poles and tables and roughed up tents and ropes. Candles lit the dry grasses, and fire was spreading through the green. Can't see things clearly? That's about right. She loaded another quarrel into the crossbow, trying to still the shaking of her hand.

"It's alright, Yun. It's alright."

Just then, the wind began to howl.

-Chris-

Something shoved Chris onto the dry grass. When she got up, she was separated from the others. Beasts came tearing through the feast tables, cracking wood and breaking plates. A tablecloth caught on a boar's tusks as it thundered through, and the beast leapt and bucked, trying to shake it. Chris used the diversion to sneak around the edge of a table. She looked around for Hugo, but couldn't catch a glimpse of him in the chaos.

One of Huarn's lieutenants was on the ground, unseeing eyes staring up at the sky. His chest was collapsed by the beat of unshod hooves. She scurried over and snatched up the man's sword, then hurried past him into the shadow of a wagon. Smoke was rising from the green in half a dozen places where the fire had spread to the stamped-out grass. Two soldiers ran past, but did not see her. She wrung the hilt in her hand, staring through the smoke to make out Hugo's form. Where did he go?

There came a roar from the gap between two wagons. She turned in time to see the two soldiers facing down a lion. One man screamed as the beast clawed him across his chest. He stumbled back, and the other man jabbed his spear at the lion. The beast leapt forward. The spear's tip buried itself in it shoulder, but it bowled through to knock the man flat on his back. The lion roared again and bit at his shoulder. The man screamed as he struggled, trying to keep the beast from biting his throat. The other man was on his feet, but he danced around the pair embroiled in a battle on the ground, looking much too indecisive.

Chris shot to her feet, asking forgiveness of the Goddess. She sprinted ahead and darted in just in time to bury her sword in the lion's eye. The beast howled and shook its head, knocking Chris aside. She leapt to her feet and slashed. The lion gave one last roar, and blood squirted from its throat as it stumbled onto its belly and went quiet.

The standing soldier helped his comrade onto his feet and the two fanned out to point their spears at her. She sighed, backing up against the wall of a wagon and looking around.

Huarn stepped in behind the men. He smiled, looking down his nose at her. "So, you can use a sword."

"If you have any honor, Captain Huarn, let me go."

The man laughed. He shrugged, lifting his sword in the motion. "After all the trouble I went through? I couldn't deny myself the satisfaction."

Another figure burst in between the wagons. The soldiers shifted position.

"Captain Huarn," Serfein said, dropping her cowl to show an intense look. Her breast heaved with each loud breath. Her cheeks and forehead were slick with sweat. "Something strange is about."

Huarn gestured at the chaotic mess of burning tables. "I noticed."

Serfein shook her head. "There's a True Rune nearby. In the Forbidden Ground."

Huarn's eyes widened. He glanced at Chris and then back to Serfein. "Are you sure?"

"Do I ever joke?"

Huarn cursed. He sheathed his sword and motioned for another group of soldiers to rush in and surround Chris. "We're leaving at once," he said to Serfein. "We'll have to take her with us." He turned to look at Chris.

"Will you come peacefully, or do I have to have you knocked unconscious?" He frowned at her. "It's no fuss for me."

Chris glanced at the soldiers who'd fanned out around her. Each man held a spear jabbed at her, and they were mere feet away. Their reach was greater, and no man looked obviously inexperienced. There was the gap between the wagon's wheels, but she'd spotted boots on the other side as well. Against half a dozen soldiers, there was nothing she could do but go out in a blaze of glory. And as long as she did not know where Hugo was, she could not throw her life away. She had a responsibility to look after him.

She tossed the sword to the ground. "I will come peacefully."

Huarn nodded. A smile spread on his face.

There was a rush of air, and a wall of gusting winds was born in the middle of the green. It was a wall in truth, separating Huarn and his soldiers—and Chris, unfortunately—from the other side of the circle of wagons. Serfein wrinkled her nose.

"How did the Pagans get a hold of a Cyclone Rune?"

Huarn shrugged. "Rune sages have no pride anymore. Any oaf can buy a rune, these days."

-Borus-

Borus' horse reared and kicked at the beasts surrounding it. He leaned low and slashed at a boar. There was a loud squeal, and blood splashed his greaves and colored the steel in the light of the moon. Screams filled the night, but there were too many to make sense of. The circle of wagons was lit from inside by some uncontrolled fire, and smoke rose not just from the green inside but also from some of the wagons on the opposite end. Debris floated in the air above the wagons, caught on a wind too strong to be natural.

Borus cursed the barbarians. This was where he would find Lady Chris? What were they doing to her? His blood boiled as his mind raced through the possibilities. Snarling, he spurred his horse on, lashing out with his sword against the beasts.

-Hugo-

Hugo's knife bit deep into the wild dog's shoulder. Blood pooled from the wound, and the dog yelped. A second stab opened its throat and the beast collapsed. Hugo breathed raggedly and looked around, clutching his aching arm.

"Where's Chris?" he said. He swiveled and turned about. She was nowhere to be found. A dozen growing fires lit the insides of the wagon circle, but a wall of wind cordoned off the area, separating him from the center of the green. The wind at once fanned and hemmed in the fires, which unless checked would spread into wildfire and burn clear large stretches of plainsland before coming to halt at the banks of rivers and at the feet of rocky outcroppings. Leafs and branches, bits of loose turf and pieces of broken clay surged upward on the wind, which he recognized as the work of a Wind Rune—but it was more powerful than he'd experienced before.

"Chris?" he had to shout to be heard above the wind. Someone howled in pain, and he turned to see a group of Harmonian soldiers vanish between two wagons. He heard shouts, and thought he heard Chris' name mentioned in the bedlam. They might have her cornered. Cursing, he started towards the gap. He leapt across a fire, feeling its heat wash against his legs. He had to find a way around—or if necessary, through—the wall of wind.

Something gripped his waist. He felt a rush of cool air, and stopped right in the step. A gale buffeted his clothes and flapped his sleeves and the lapel of his shirt. He struggled against the grip, but could not budge.

"Hold it right there," a voice said.

Hugo turned his head and glared at Bylsma. "You keep constricting me." He jostled and jerked, but did not move an inch.

Bylsma's forehead glowed with the emerald crest of an elaborate Wind Rune. Others were with her; Wind Seekers who had been pulled together for long enough to salvage their belongings from the fire and the chaos and begin to withdraw in earnest. A group of bare-chested men were pushing a wagon out from the circle. Bylsma's lips were pushed tight together as she shook her head at Hugo. "Your mother would skin me alive if I let you run off on some fool's errand."

"Let me go."

Bylsma sighed. "You'd only do something foolish if I did."

He wanted to run, to leave this place. He wanted to find Chris. But no matter how hard he struggled, these were no mere rope bonds to slip or break. This was a fist of air clutching his body like a hilt in a desperate hand. It was the weight of a mountain in the shape of the clouds. He was stuck.

All he could do was grit his teeth.

Bylsma walked up to him. It seemed that the Harmonians had been cut off from the caravan by the wall of air, just as Hugo was held by her spell. Despite the howl of the wind and the crackling of flames, a strange calm had settled over the green.

Hugo's cheek stung from Bylsma's slap.

"How dare you?" she said.

He glared at her. "Enough. You brought this upon yourself."

Her eyes flashed, and she clenched her fists. "A simple little thing like a kiss, and you go and burn your arm half to cinders? Are you mad?" She diverted tendrils of the rune's power to his arm, and the cool breeze soothed his skin like a salve. "I've got half a mind to leave your wounds without healing, to teach you a lesson."

He shrugged. "I told you not to use the rune. You had no right."

She fixed her eyes on him. Her mouth tightened, and she looked as if she were about to say something, but instead she just shook her head and muttered, "Spirits…who could have thought to do such a thing…" In his mind, he could tell that the spell of the Symmetry Rune had been shattered into nothingness, and the same had to be true for Chris now.

Hooves pounded against the turf. A horse neighed, and the rider cursed. "You!" Borus charged across the green so that Hugo thought he and Bylsma would be run over. Ten paces from the two, Borus leapt from the horse and drew his sword in one motion. He was fire and lightning, his eyes flashing with dark rage. Blood colored his greaves, and his hair was wild and unkempt.

"Release me," Hugo said to Bylsma. His body alighted on the ground as the grip loosened and disappeared. No longer propped up, his body ached with weariness. Despite Bylsma's healing, his arm felt as though it burned from within.

"You're responsible for this," Borus said. The knight's sword was sheathed in blood.

Hugo flexed his wrists and cracked his neck. "What are you talking about?"

Borus thrust his sword against Hugo's throat and backed him up. His breath stank of cheap rum, but he seemed sober enough now, with murder on his mind. "Where is she?"

Hugo met the knight's gaze. "The Harmonians have her. I'm going after her."

"You lie," Borus said. He slammed his knee into Hugo's groin. Hugo groaned and stumbled back, then bounded back up and held his dagger out with a snarl.

"Spirits curse you. What's wrong with you? We're on the same side."

"Don't make me laugh," he said. There was nothing but grating rage in his voice, and he forced the words out past white lips pressed hard together. "We will never be on the same side, you son of a barbarian whore. Where is Lady Chris? If you've hurt her…"

"That's enough, you Ironhead coward." Hugo's arm clenched up with pain as he activated the Fire Rune. He raced towards Borus, summoning a vortex of flame.

Borus took a step back and held his gauntleted fist up. Through the metal plating, Hugo saw an angry red glare. A wall of flame rose between them. Hugo's fire dissipated, and the flames caught on his sleeves. He threw himself down, rolling and quashing the fire before it spread. Getting onto his feet, he found Borus voicing a harsh laugh.

"Fire? So you make me laugh after all." His hand still glowed with the light of the crest beneath the gauntlet. "This Rage Rune was given to me by the knight who taught me to fence. It's more than enough to deny anything a mud-dweller like you could ever hope to conjure up."

Hugo snarled. He raised his dagger and charged. Darting in, he slashed. Steel clanged and Borus deflected his blow. The knight's sword flashed, and Hugo felt something crack against his skull. The hilt withdrew and Borus swung around. The flat of his blade hit Hugo on the head, knocking him back. As he rose back up, Borus planted his foot in his stomach and threw him onto the ground. Before Hugo could rise, the knight was there, pressing his boot against his neck. Hugo struggled to draw breath.

"You're nothing but filthy savages," the knight said, "Nesting and breeding in the ditches. You stand in the way of all reason, emerging from your caves only to snipe at civilized people. Poor Sir Roland's head no doubt adorns some bloody pike outside one of your mud huts!"

"My people," Hugo began. He coughed and spat, then forced out the sentence, "My people don't desecrate the dead."

Borus gave a single note of laughter. "Indeed! Then why didn't we find a body?" He did not wait for an answer. "Goddess, you're worse than rats. One day we'll root the lot of you out."

Hugo grabbed the knight's boot and twisted. With a yelp, Borus kicked his other foot against Hugo's head. Everything blurred for a moment, and his head ached from the blow when his vision returned. Borus shoved his face sideways, shunting his cheek against the turf and putting a foot on his other cheek.

"Move a limb, and I'll cut it off."

Hugo tried to resist, but he found that his arms were so tired that he could not even lift them off the ground. He could not move a limb even if he wanted to.

"Where is Lady Chris?"

A crossbow bolt bit the dirt beside Borus' foot. The knight stirred and looked around.

"Calm down, Sir Knight," said Yumi. She reloaded the crossbow and pointed it in Borus' direction. "If you want to find Lady Chris, you'd better listen to Hugo."

Borus glared at the woman. He looked around, and Hugo could see that the knight was now surrounded by dozens of Wind Seekers. He did not seem deterred.

"I'll cut my way out of here if necessary."

Caesar pushed out of the crowd. Hands in his pockets, he strolled up to the two of them. "Gee, I believe you. But really, think about it. The Harmonians have Lady Chris, you know? How about you two strike a truce, and you can both help get her back?"

"Help?" Borus nearly spat the word out.

Yumi's bosom heaved as she shrugged. "It's up to you. I can shoot you right now, and you can cut your way out of here with a bolt buried in your stomach, if you're able. Or you die, because I'm not going to let you hurt Hugo anymore. Or, you can wash the blood from your sword and sheathe it, and we can start to talk about how to rescue Lady Chris."

Borus weighed down on Hugo's face, glaring about at the people watching him.

"Well," Yumi said, "What are you waiting for?"

Hugo felt the boot lift off his face. As he stretched out onto his knees and spat blood, Lily came running over and held his shoulders. Brows knitted, the woman dabbed at the wound on his forehead. He winced as the touch jolted his nerves.

Borus sheathed his sword. He looked down at Hugo.

"This had better not be a ruse."

-?-

Nesting in the earth, the Vessel seethed. After decades of slumber, a handful of visions served as memory. Fire, Water, Lightning… Scenes of chaos pulsed and shifted in its mind. But now, when it was so close to the surface, something new, something raw, like rain-damp dirt, reached its consciousness and intruded on its obsessions. A scent of fire. A higher order rune had been used. And it was close.

The Vessel pulsed with anticipation. It was close to the surface, and when it erupted from the soil, it would make its desires into truth.

It would have its revenge.

-Chris-

Chris kept her eyes on the road as the Harmonian unit traveled towards the Forbidden Ground. Still she kept stumbling on protruding rocks and jagged depressions. A dozen soldiers surrounded her, escorting her further away from the Wind Seeker encampment. The Harmonians looked as haggard as she felt. Many were missing articles of clothing and armor, and insignia and helmets sat astray on most. Some showed obvious signs of battle, and there were gaps in formation that she suspected would not be filled until the soldiers had a chance to regroup during a proper night's rest. It was a battered and bruised squadron which followed Captain Huarn.

"I wonder," Huarn said, "Do you expect the boy to come for you?"

Chris's heart skipped a beat. She glanced up at the man, but said nothing. Hugo would be safe with the Wind Seekers. The Harmonians had gotten what they came for—her—and they were satisfied. The chaos that had erupted during the feast would be enough blood for now. Bylsma and her people would heal him and nurse him back to health, and he would be fine. His words echoed in her mind. I'd rather die. The vehemence in those words had been all too clear. There was no doubt that it had been his true feelings, stronger than she'd seen in him before. He had saved her pride and dignity—spared her the need to act—but for what reason? She had thought he viewed her as a friend, now, but… after all, she had killed his best friend. There was no denying that; no possible redemption or forgiveness. He had made that much clear.

She blinked away tears, and straightened her back. It was to be expected. She would carry on. She would do what had to be done, with or without him. But something felt hollow inside her heart.

(--)

Author's Notes:

I'm referring to the Alma-Kinan women as Kinese, to make the adjective less unwieldy.

If you have the time, I'd be grateful for any and all feedback you could give me. Were any parts boring or longwinded? Did anything seem useless or unnecessary to you? Did some characters act strangely? Did something not make sense? Let me know, and you can help me improve my writing!

Next Chapter:

The tide of battle has turned, and Bishop Sasarai drives the Grasslanders before him, marching on Chisha. The 282nd West Company seeks a True Rune, but will find something else entirely—something born of a True Rune. Something deadly. Will Hugo and Borus be able to put their differences aside, if only for a moment, to help Chris overcome the Harmonians? Will even their combined efforts be enough to overcome a new threat that could destroy them all? Find out next time, in Blazing Waves, Burning Rain!