Chapter 3
Lucina glanced around the crowded residential street in Silva's outer strata with a sense of pride and satisfaction as the Feroxi warriors rushed to the aid of the locals, all at Mari'ko's orders. The young woman had taken Robin's teachings to heart, and was organizing the aid and evacuation of the locals before even beginning to think about engaging the enemy. Even better yet she had sent runners to the other three groups, warning them that she would be delayed and giving them detailed suggestions she had come up with on the fly on how to compensate for her force's absence.
It had been a snap decision on Robin's part when he'd arrived, to change the groupings; Isaac and Mari'ko had about the same level of magical competency, but Mari'ko was slightly more confident than the big Ylissean boy. Apparently Robin had subtly tested them during their march and found that Isaac needed the slight boost with his mage training more than Mari'ko did, prompting him to make the change.
Lucina smiled slightly as the girl climbed up on a crate to get a better view of what was going on, her battle-dress strikingly similar to Lady Say'ri's yet of a pale shade of pink rather than the Chon'sinian Empress' favoured white.
"Are there any more wounded?" Mari'ko shouted over the clamour, her normally quiet voice cutting through the noise like a knife.
"Nay, tactician," one of the closer Feroxi warriors answered. "We've gotten' em all out."
"One squad stays here to guard the non-combatants!" Mari'ko shouted, her voice carrying authority far belying her years. "That's ten warriors! Everyone else, grab a weapon and keep up!"
A lusty roar went up from the locals as weapons were held aloft; Mari'ko had also pleasantly surprised Lucina by adapting to the changing mood of the local populace. Given the Feroxi love of fighting and the eager mood to run the bandits out of town the civilians would have simply gotten underfoot and disrupted their plans as they moved. Mari'ko had made the right decision to fold them into the battle-group. It was something that Robin would have done, which had further served to convince Lucina that her decision to hand command over to the girl had been the right one.
Robin had been explicit about his orders; the students were there as observers only. However Lucina had been younger than Mari'ko by at least five years when she had led her first soldiers on the field with Cullen back in the future she had come from, and trusted the girl to be able to cope. She would remain by the Chon'sinian's side, but would not interfere unless necessary.
"Lady Lucina?" Mari'ko asked somewhat hesitantly, snapping the older woman out of her reverie. "We are ready to move."
Lucina nodded, giving the assembled host a quick glance to ensure nothing was out of place. All of the warriors looked to be in high spirits and were prepared to move on the town's central markets, where according to Gaius' intel was where the bandits were located, and the civilians in the area had been evacuated out to the forest.
"Very well, Tactician Mari'ko," Lucina said with an encouraging nod. "Lead the way."
The girl nodded, holding her sword high as the signal to march. The Feroxi around her let out another loud cheer and started moving in the general direction of the markets, although 'stampeding' might have been a more accurate way to describe their movements.
Mari'ko and Lucina followed along, caught up in the flow with the press of bodies. Lucina turned to check a side street, taking her eyes off the path ahead of her for barely a moment, before she walked straight into the Feroxi warrior in front of her, a large woman that oddly reminded her of Vaike.
"Why have we stopped?" Lucina asked quickly.
"Lady Panne!" Mari'ko called out, waving above the heads of the Feroxi around her.
Lucina perked up, glancing around the shoulder of the warrior before her and catching sight of a brown form the size of a horse barrelling down the narrow street towards them. Lucina felt her stomach tighten a little as she realised that the Taguel was visibly flustered and she couldn't see Gaius anywhere, and years of experience took over.
"Make way!" she roared, parting the crowd of warriors with naught but those two words.
Lucina strode forward through the path that opened almost instantly, her tone of voice demanding obedience. Mari'ko stumbled a little as she followed the fencing instructor, awed at this sudden change of character.
"Where is Robin?" Panne asked as she skidded to a stop, the Taguel not even bother to shift forms again.
"By now he should be in the marketplace," Lucina answered without hesitation.
"I must find him," the giant rabbit insisted.
Lucina nodded, making a snap decision.
"Mari'ko, go with Panne," she ordered, turning on her heel to face the girl. "Find Robin. Do whatever Panne tells you to in the process."
The girl's eyes widened slightly before she nodded, accepting Lucina's judgement and stepping forward to Panne; she was too young and inexperienced to lead the Feroxi on her own if Lucina went with Panne, especially when she had been sent as Lucina's observer in the first place.
"We will need to take the back roads," Mari'ko said, striding right up to the Taguel. "It will be faster, and I have most of the map memorized."
"Good," Panne said, crouching low to the ground. "You will slow me down. Get on."
Mari'ko froze, eyes widening slightly again before she nodded and swung a leg over Panne's shoulders. To the girl's credit she only hesitated for a moment.
"For what it's worth, Mari," Lucina called out before Panne could bolt. "You were doing a splendid job today."
"Thank you, sensei," she said, a small smile quirking the corners of her mouth.
"Protect her, Panne," Lucina said, stepping back.
The Taguel nodded, glancing up at the human clutching her fur out of the corner of her eye.
"Hold tight, young one," she instructed. "And shout your directions as we come upon them. Time is of the essence."
"So we're just going to… stand here?" Isaac asked hesitantly.
"Yes," Aversa sighed.
"Even though there's a battle going on?" he persisted.
"What part of 'rear guard' did you not understand?" Aversa snapped. "Do something smart and use this time to practice your magic. I will call you if we have to move into the town, so stop pestering me and practice!"
Isaac stiffened at his teacher's reprimand, the impatient Aversa letting out a sigh as the Ylissean boy turned away with a frown on his face.
"Do you know why we are the rear guard?" Aversa asked in a sigh.
Isaac turned slightly back to the older woman, raising his brow in a silent question, wary of provoking the clearly displeased Aversa any further.
"It is because the mages and archers are a liability in closed confines such as a city," she explained. "Especially one such as Silva, where roads have been thrown together around and between buildings as an afterthought. Do you understand?"
"Yes, mistress," Isaac said woodenly, a note of disappointment creeping into his voice.
Aversa and Isaac were positioned at the head of Flavia's archers, left behind as the 'rearguard'. As he stopped to think about it, Aversa's point made sense to Isaac. It would be pointless for the archers to deploy in the city, with its narrow and winding streets, unless it was necessary. Robin had changed his mind about the pairings right at the last minute, and instead of charging headlong into danger with his friends he was here. Standing. Bored and anxious next to his magic instructor.
"So go and use this time for what my dearest brother intended you do with it, and practice your spellcraft," Aversa said, turning away from Isaac in obvious dismissal.
"Yes, mistress," Isaac sighed, moving a small way away from the archers in case he lit something or someone on fire with his sup-par spellmanship again, conceding to the fact that he was essentially being left out of this battle.
"I hope the others are having more fun," he muttered, spreading his feet shoulder-width apart and opening his spellbook to the 'elfire' pages.
"This is not fun!" Galle shouted, dodging beneath the axe of one of the bandits and back-peddling away from the bigger man. "This is so not fun! This is-"
Robin was there in a flash, running the burly and unkempt man through before kicking the lifeless bandit off of his rapier.
"Will you focus already!?" Robin sighed. "It's just a couple of bandits, this is noth-"
The tactician cut himself off mid-sentence, turning to throw a few bolts of lightning magic at some charging bandits as they rounded the corner.
"And I thought you said no magic!" Galle complained loudly.
"Do as I say, not as I do," Robin grinned.
The older tactician turned, trusting Galle to keep pace with him and the rest of the Feroxi. They were almost on the marketplace now, leading the unit at a mad pace towards the sounds of fighting. Anna's group, being comprised of the more heavily armoured mercenaries that she made a habit of hiring, had taken the most direct route to the marketplace acting as the shock-troops. The Feroxi were supposed to sweep in from both flanks and take the Bandit force unaware, but according to their runner Lucina and Mari'ko had been bogged down in the residential quarters, so Robin and Galle would hit them first and hope that the others caught up before the bandits could slip out the opposite flank.
The sound of battle grew as Robin's force neared the market, the smoke wafting on the air also rising above the buildings, giving the older tactician flash-backs to the last time he'd been in a burning city, back in Valm. It had been the capital, after the battle that had seen Walhart deposed and the resistance leader Priam dead; Robin had wandered around for hours looking for Lucina in the aftermath, afraid that she had disappeared again…
The bitter memories fell to the back of Robin's mind as his squad burst into the chaos of the marketplace, a roar escaping his lips. Curiously, the usually quiet and sardonic Galle was emulating him, the boy screaming at the top of his lungs as they charged at the head of the rabid Feroxi warriors.
The bandits at the side flank glanced up, having apparently managed to keep Anna's mercenaries mostly out of the marketplace and stand their ground. A row of large kite-shields and spears was all that Robin could see of the mercenaries, but he could hear the Captain shouting orders to advance over them in a Valmese accent, with Rance and Anna no doubt not far away. The few bandits smart enough to be standing watch over the flank let out dismayed cries before falling beneath Robin's charge, the tactician himself cutting deep into the enemy formation. He lashed out, precise blows incapacitating the bandits by striking at tendons and exposed flesh as he flashed through their ranks like a black and silver blur.
Robin was careful about how he fought, though; he had been explicit in his orders that the bandits be taken alive if possible. He and Chrom had talked at length during his long hospital stay after the final battle with Grima, and both had been appalled at the sheer loss of life after the half-decade of constant fighting. There were so few people left in their generation that Robin balked at the thought of taking lives wantonly. Wounds could be healed, bones mended, tendons magically reconnected, but lives couldn't be brought back. There was a chance, however small, that these men could still reform.
Of course, Robin thought with a grim smile as he ducked beneath an axe aimed at his neck, that didn't mean that the bandits felt the same way.
Galle was at his side instantly, their earlier roles reversed as he lashed out out with a harsh and brutal series of kicks to the offending bandit's knee, ribs and then jaw before the younger tactician spun away, leaving Robin to headbutt the reeling bandit into unconsciousness.
"That was good," Robin said admirably. "Although I did want you to practice more with your sword."
Galle raised one brow and opened his mouth to say something, his voice catching in his throat as Robin shoved him in the shoulder and forced him out of the path of a flying hand axe. The younger man paled a little as his teacher pirouetted and threw another thunderbolt back in the direction that the axe had come from.
Galle shook his head, gripping his sword one handed and lashing out at another passing bandit with a closed fist. His blow smashed into the larger man's unprotected back, just at the base of his neck, dropping him in a spasming heap. He spun then, landing another kick into the ribs of a second bandit, forcing him back onto Robin's blade. The older tactician marvelled at the younger man's skill; not a movement was wasted, and every blow was sharp and brutal. He most definitely did not recall teaching Galle that style.
"Do you even need a sword?" Robin laughed. "Who taught you to fight like that?"
Galle shrugged, flexing his bruising hand a little. "I just kinda picked it up."
"Well," Robin said with a proud smile as he cast another wind spell over his shoulder. "You'll have to show me some moves once we get back to the school. You fight like a bastard."
"Uh… thanks…" Galle muttered, clearly unsure how to take his teacher's comments.
Before Robin could continue with his strangely worded praise another shout of alarm came up from the opposite side of the bandits, making both tacticians glance up over the heads of the warriors.
"It's about time they showed… wait," Robin said, eyes narrowing slightly as he watched the form that emerged from the narrow streets into the markets.
Panne bounded through the bandits, tearing her way through the men barring her way without even breaking stride before she skidded to a halt before Robin. A visibly shaken Mari'ko slid from the Taguel's back, wide-eyed and wobbling a little before composing herself.
"What happened?" Robin asked without preamble.
"Gaius sent me to get you," Panne said quickly, her flanged voice strained. "He told me to tell you 'he is out of sweets'."
Robin's eyes momentarily widened at the code-phrase before he sighed and nodded, reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a small leather cord. Mari'ko and Galle both watched silently, eyes wide and barely daring to breathe as for the first time since meeting him years ago Robin drew the hair out of his face and tied it back, clearly displaying the burn scar above his left eye. That, coupled with the scar across the bridge of his nose, made the older man seem even more imposing.
"Galle, go get Flavia. Tell her that play-time is over. We crush this rebellion now."
"R-right," the young Plegian stammered, practically tripping over himself to follow Robin's orders; he'd never seen the older man this serious, and it admittedly unsettled him.
"Mari, I want you to try and hold things here," Robin went on, striding towards Panne. "Galle will be right back with Flavia, but I'm trusting you to maintain order until they arrive."
"Yes, sensei," she replied with a slight bow.
Robin nodded before climbing up onto Panne's back. His face softened somewhat as he lightly brushed his hands over her rabbit-form's shoulder fur, grinning a little as she shuddered.
"Morgan told me Yarne was ticklish, too," Robin chuckled.
"I can still make you walk," Panne deadpanned before darting off at a sprint.
Mari'ko watched them disappear into the nearest alleyway before spinning on her heel to take stock of the current situation, a rising feeling of pride growing in her breast at being entrusted with such an important task on her own, even if it was only for a short period of time.
She glanced up as she heard Rance's distinct, manic laughter, the mercenaries he was at the head of finally breaking the bandit line and rushing the marketplace. The shield wall parted, allowing the other student tactician and Lady Anna to rush forward alongside a squad of mercenaries being led by a hardened-looking man of middle-age wielding a two-handed axe.
"Forward, warriors of Regna Ferox!" Mari'ko bellowed, brandishing her sword. "Let us finish this before the Khan arrives!"
Mari'ko was in no way a competitive person, but with a slight grin she told herself that she would be damned if she let Rance steal her spotlight.
Galle grimaced as he shoved his way through the rushing crowds of Feroxi soldiers and civilians, looking for a standard or an honour-guard or something that might give him some indication of where Khan Flavia was.
That was one of the things that bothered him the most about the Regna Ferox military; the utter lack of cohesion. Plegia and Ylisse's armies both had a similar command structure, and although the Valmese officer-hierarchy was based on bloodlines it was similar enough that he would have been able to guess where the command staff was stationed. Feroxi war-bands were, in Galle's opinion, a mess. The Khan would move about wherever they wanted, quite often at the frontlines where they couldn't properly command, leaving their junior officers to handle the actual running of the army. Robin's lessons had prepared him for the same style of leadership, but Galle never intended to lead from the front. It was inefficient and ludicrous for a tactician to fight on the frontlines. Galle would advise military leaders, the way a tactician should, and-
With a grunt the young tactician trainee fell to the ground, the solid wall of a Feroxi warrior accidentally shoulder-barging him from her path knocking him flat.
"Sorry kid," the older woman said lightly, stopping and dragging him to his feet by the scruff.
She blinked a few times before her face hardened and she rested her giant gold-hued sword on her shoulder.
"Aren't you one of Robin's kids?" Khan Flavia asked the glowering Galle.
"Yes, and I was sent to look for you," he snapped. "Something's happened and my master suggested that you move into the marketplace with a slight modicum of haste."
Flavia quirked one brow, indicating with one hand the warriors surging around them towards the direction of the markets.
"We're working on it," she pointed out. "Robin say why I had to hurry?"
Galle shook his head irritably. "No, but Mari'ko is holding the market by herself and-"
"And by now Anna and Lucina's groups should have converged as well," Flavia cut him off. "I already called off the sweep of the outer wards to move into the city proper, so you can relax, kid. I've never seen Robin get flustered over anything like this. C'mon, stick close and we'll rout the bastards before supper time."
Galle seethed at being ordered around so wantonly as the Khan brushed by him, especially being ordered around by the barbarian-queen herself. The Plegian boy took a deep breath as he followed her, reminding himself that all the nations were currently at peace, and his racism was unjustified. Khan Flavia was simply doing her job.
Being Plegian didn't mean that Galle could hate everyone indiscriminately like some of the older men from his village did. In the end it had been Ylisse and Regna Ferox that had saved Plegia from itself. Even if the Ylisseans were mostly overly pretentious and the Feroxi were mostly brutish thugs, who was he to judge? There were always outliers in every culture.
They came out into the marketplace while Galle was still debating international diplomacy with himself, shocking him quite rudely out of his reverie. With sharp eyes the trainee tactician glanced around, taking in everything in a moment.
The damage didn't look too bad, in his opinion. Of course there was some collateral damage to the storefronts, and no doubt the stalls had been ground to kindling beneath the feet of the bandits and warriors, but nothing that couldn't be replaced. What was more worrying to Galle was the sight of Rance standing on a box barking orders.
"You lot, circle around east! Go door to door, make sure everyone's safe!" the local tactician trainee was shouting. "You lot, push on to the Mill-Ward near the river! That's where the bandits are supposed to be- Galle! Galle, over here! Hey! Over! Here!"
Just as the Plegian boy was starting to feel a spark of respect for his classmate the feeling was dashed when Rance started jumping up and down and waving his arms to get his attention.
"I see you, you idiot!" Galle sighed, pushing through the crowd. "Weren't you giving orders?"
Rance's reply was lost in Khan Flavia's booming voice as she leapt up onto the box he had just stepped down from.
"Right! Who's coming to the Mill-Ward with me!?" she roared, a feral grin on her face.
The reply was deafening in the closed-space that was the market, the roar of the crowd of warriors and armed civilians bouncing back off the nearby buildings and making Galle wince. It didn't help that Rance was screaming at the top of his lungs next to him, either.
As the majority of the Feroxi warriors coalesced into one great mob and followed Flavia Galle found himself standing with Rance, surrounded by Anna's mercenaries and a few of the more even-tempered locals.
"Those were some pretty good orders you were throwing about before I got here," Galle said. "I didn't expect that from you. I'm impressed."
"They were the Princess'," Rance shrugged honestly. "I was just doing the shouting because her voice was hoarse from yelling earlier."
"That makes much more sense," Galle muttered with a comprehending nod.
"Wow, thanks for your confidence in me," Rance groaned, rolling his eyes before giving the Plegian boy a playful punch in the arm.
Just as Galle was deciding whether to shove his sword down Rance's throat or to enquire as to the whereabouts of their only female classmate she reappeared in the northern side of the market with Anna with a sour look on her usually expressionless face, making his decision for him.
"Don't worry, dear," Anna was saying in her usual carefree tone. "I'll charge Robin for the herbs, so you just worry about the fighting."
"Everything okay?" Rance asked as he and a frowning Galle approached the two women.
"I just had to give Mari here a concoction to make her throat feel a little better," Anna said innocently. "It most definitely had been tested in the past and found to have a low mortality rate, so I don't see what she was so grumpy about."
"Jeez, sounds great. Where can I get one?" Galle deadpanned, raising a brow. "Are you trying to convince us, or yourself here?"
"Sheesh, if that's the face she's making I can't imagine how bad it was," Rance said sympathetically.
"Do we not have work to do?" Mari'ko croaked, brushing by the boys to begin organizing the sweeping search pattern to ensure no bandits were still hiding in the city. "Come. We should have this organized before Lucina-Sensei arrives."
"Just how bad was that stuff?" Rance whispered to Galle.
The other boy responded by rolling his eyes and following after Mari'ko, intending to act as her voice so that she didn't hurt herself further. Rance sighed and turned to the manically grinning Anna, preparing to continue to follow her lead with the mercenaries.
"I am not drinking anything you give me," he warned her.
"Aw, you're no fun," Anna pouted.
Robin half-leapt, half-fell off of Panne's back as she finally drew to a stop, shaking his head and willing his breakfast to remain where it was.
"And I thought that… flying was bad," he groaned.
Panne's mouth opened but she swallowed her words, her response lost as a pair of light feet dropped to the rough dirt path right next to them.
"It's about time you two showed up," Gaius said, swaying dangerously. "I didn't know how much longer I could distract 'em for… had to set the warehouse on fire and everything…They still got most of 'em out, though…"
"Gaius!" Robin called out as Panne darted forward to catch her mate.
"You owe me… so many honey-cakes for this…" the thief sighed as Panne lowered him to the ground. "I'm fine. Just tired…"
The thief's cloak was in tatters and singed in places, but aside from a few scratches on his arms and face Robin couldn't see any serious wounds. Panne sighed, standing again after propping Gaius against the side of the nearest building and looking at Robin expectantly.
"You going to be alright?" he asked.
Gaius just waved them off, closing his eyes and attempting to catch his breath. Robin gave the other man one last quick look to make sure he was okay before he grinned and shook his head, jogging over to the warehouse across the road from their hiding place with Panne close behind. Around the road a few blood-splatters were accompanied by even fewer bodies; however the fact that Gaius had held the area alone for so long was no mean feat. Robin definitely intended to repay the man with his weight in sugary treats.
Frantic sounds of activity came from within the building, and smoke rose from the opposite end. Robin cursed himself for forgetting to ask Gaius what, exactly, he would find inside the building, but if it had been that dangerous the thief would have reported to him with Panne as well, rather than try to delay the bandits. As he passed Robin could see evidence of where Gaius had barred the doors and even moved some lighter crates in front of them, explaining why he was so tired. Smoke was billowing out of the gaps in the slatted sides of the buildings that acted as high windows, the sounds of panic and hustling from within beginning to increase in pitch.
Carefully tugging the large doors open a fraction to look inside with one hand as he drew his rapier again with his other, Robin leaned forward to peek inside.
He instantly pulled his face back, though, as a thick cloud of smoke wafted from the opening.
"What in the hell did Gaius do!?" he coughed, blinking the tears from the smoke out of his eyes.
"He distracted them," Panne answered without a hint of emotion in her voice.
"Yes, thank you for pointing out the obvious," Robin deadpanned, crouching down to where the smoke was thinner before leaning forward again.
What he saw within wasn't too out of the ordinary given the circumstances; there was a fire crackling through the bales of hay along the back wall of the space, where about ten or twelve workers were hastily trying to put out the blaze; Robin couldn't get an accurate count on the people through the smoke. A single wooden crate, easily the size of Anna's old cart, sat on an even larger cart, clearly about to have been moved before the fire had 'broken out'.
"What's in the box?" Robin asked in a hushed whisper.
"I do not know," Panne said, a strange tightness to her voice. "But whatever it is, it makes me nervous."
Robin glanced up at the Taguel leaning over him to look into the warehouse for a moment before nodding.
"We'll worry about it after we stop these guys," he declared, standing and pulling the door all the way open, smoke billowing past them in a great cloud. "I'll put out the fire, be ready to back me up if they become hostile."
Panne nodded, following at Robin's shoulder as he held up his hands and began to cast a spell he hadn't used in a really long time. He almost faltered, considering reaching for his spellbook to make sure he wasn't screwing anything up, but decided against it and shouted the last of the incantation.
"Fimbulvetr!" he roared.
The ambient temperature in the warehouse plummeted as Robin and Panne's breath misted in front of their faces. Large slabs of ice rose up around the flames, trapping them in a vacuum and extinguishing them in a manner of seconds, right in the faces of the stunned men trying to extinguish them. They whirled around with stunned looks, dropping buckets full of water that had frozen solid as they shivered in the unnatural cold.
"Gentlemen," Robin greeted with a confident grin as ice crystals still danced and swirled around him. "How's it going?"
Owain had to grin as he led a small horde of angry Feroxi locals through the smaller secondary markets just outside of Silva's slums, Severa at his side like always.
The bandits that had terrorized the villagers for nearly a week were in full retreat now, fleeing before the might of his sword-hand. They had passed through the marketplace like a battering ram, where he had given an energetic wave to his old ally Anna and what was obviously one of Robin's students with her, a local boy judging from his lighter clothes, before crashing into the town after their cowardly foes.
They had been given the easiest job, considering Owain's ability to rile up a crowd; they were simply chasing the bandits and getting them away from the civilians; the slums were empty now, thanks to his cousin Lucina's efforts, and Aversa's group would be going around the outside of the village to cut off their retreat while Flavia and Anna's soldiers penned the bandits in with Owain's mob. It was a flawless plan, and one that Owain was thrilled to be a part of; it had been far too long, in his mind, since he'd felt this excitement.
They rounded the corner of one of the shacks that made up the majority of the buildings in the slums, the thin and winding roads having slowed the bandits' progress greatly as they had become lost in the warren-like turns. Owain roared with a mixture of excitement and battle-rage as he spotted the enemy ahead of them, holding his sword high. He slowed, though, allowing the locals to charge ahead of him and Severa and engage the retreating bandits.
"What's wrong now?" Severa huffed, crossing her arms.
Owain shook his head.
"I dunno," he muttered, running a hand through his hair. "I just got a feeling like… we missed something, that's all."
Severa scoffed. "If we miss something then Lucina, Flavia and Aversa will catch it. Stop wasting time worrying."
"You're… doing a great job," she added quietly, looking away from him.
Owain couldn't help but play dumb at his partner's cute side.
"What was that last part?" he asked, sidling up to Severa.
"Nothing! I said you should stop daydreaming and catch up with the warriors! Gawds, use your sword hand to clean your ears out sometime!" she shouted, her face going crimson as she stomped off in the direction their horde had taken off in.
Owain shook his head, doing his best not to laugh and failing miserably as he jogged to catch up with the others. Severa still wasn't true to his emotions, but then again he couldn't really talk.
"Be still, sword hand! Before this day is out we will carve our names onto the bedrock of this world and all who see it shall tremble in fear!"
Aversa sighed and crossed her arms, sinking to a hip as she studied the slums spread out before them from the safety of the forest. Not too long ago a runner had come from Lucina and told her to move to intercept anyone that came out of the city's slums facing the forest. She had decided to leave half of her archers behind, in the unlikely event that the units in the city actually needed support, so now she and Isaac were standing among the thirteen Feroxi archers and hunters that had opted to follow.
"What do you think?" she asked over her shoulder, her tone dripping with the insurmountable boredom she was feeling.
Isaac started, surprised that he was being called on for tactical advice from the woman that had once led Plegia's entire army singlehandedly. An army that had still lost in the end, but she had still put up a good fight…
"A-about what, mistress?" he asked quickly, clapping his spellbook closed.
Aversa rolled her eyes and planted her hands on her hips impatiently, going back to watching the smoke rising from the slums in various places as the Feroxi chased the bandits around willy-nilly.
"Give me your thoughts on the situation," she said exasperatedly. "I may not be your tactics instructor, but I'm still a tactician. I want to see what my dearest brother has taught you."
Isaac nodded silently, a spike of anxiety eating into him at being put on the spot like this. He hated it when the magic instructed did this to the students; she loved catching her students on the wrong foot, especially in the advanced class. She said it was to help them expect the unexpected, but Isaac and Rance were in agreement that she was just a sadist.
"We're clearly still acting as the rearguard," the young man started, taking a deep breath to steady himself. "Given the local predisposition for chaotic behaviour placing us out here is a necessary tactic to ensure no stragglers escape."
"And if this army were all Plegian?" Aversa asked, crossing her arms again.
Isaac swallowed, thinking quickly.
"There are more mages in a Plegian army," Isaac said, thinking as quickly as he could. "Yet still not as many as a Ylissean group would field. In this situation I would have the mages and archers split up and join the groups assaulting the bandits in the town, and have a single regiment of footmen to watch the outskirts."
Aversa gave the boy a malicious grin as she turned to him, and Isaac realised he'd clearly gotten something wrong. In the distance some of the Feroxi archers let out excited whoops and cheers as the first of the bandits attempted to make their escape in the woods, a sharp contrast to Isaac's gloom.
"Wrong," she announced. "Look at the space between our position in the forest and the city; you should have placed the archer regiments in the forest with a squad of footmen as backup."
Isaac sighed, visibly deflating.
"However the rest of your planning concerning the mages was adequate," Aversa added, watching as another small group of bandits attempted to flee the city, only to be brought down in a hail of arrow-fire.
Isaac perked up a little, the ghost of a smile reaching his lips before Aversa turned to him with a frown.
"Why are you not down there practicing your spells?" she snapped.
"Y-yes mistress! Sorry mistress!" Isaac cried, clasping his spellbook and making for the tree line where the archers were.
Lucina watched carefully over the Feroxi forces that were dragging the captured and wounded bandits to the central marketplace on Flavia's orders. It wasn't that she didn't trust the Khan to care for the prisoners, but in her future the remaining Feroxi warriors had been savage and merciless, and those present had just been invaded. In her experience 'better safe than sorry' was more than just a suggestion.
"It appears that they were in the process of leaving when we hit the town," one of the junior officers reported to Flavia. "Most of them maintain they were hired as 'bodyguards'."
The Khan snorted next to Lucina, tapping the longsword Ragnell against her shoulder guard a few times in thought.
"Did they say who they were hired by?" Flavia asked, watching as more bandits were corralled into the growing horde in the middle of the square.
The officer shook her head. "No, Khan Flavia. Most of 'em were probably hired by their direct superiors."
"Find a leader," Flavia ordered. "I want to know who and why they attacked a town in my territory."
The officer practically shouted an affirmative before she darted off, hollering orders at the top of her lungs. Lucina noticed Flavia sag a little as they were left alone, the Khan looking much older than when they had fought against Grima together.
"I'm getting too old for this crap," she sighed, turning to face Lucina as she echoed the younger woman's thoughts.
"It's pretty bold of them to be attacking outright like this," Flavia said. "What do you think?"
Lucina shrugged. "I'm sorry, Khan Flavia, but I am still unfamiliar with the concepts behind banditry. In the future everyone knew that we had to work together to survive. But I think that we won't know anything about what happened here until the investigation is done."
Flavia sighed again, looking at the ground for a moment before a flash of colour caught her eye.
"Oh, there they are," she commented nonchalantly, drifting over to talk to some more of her subordinates a moment before Lucina was practically tackled off her feet.
"O-Owain!" she shouted as her cousin barrelled into her, picking her up and spinning her around in a tight bear-hug. "What are you- put me down!"
Severa appeared behind the blonde man as he released her, Owain grinning ear to ear until Severa slapped him upside the head.
"Is that any way for a 'hero of legend' to be acting?" she asked, before turning to Lucina. "Hello, Lucina. You look good."
The blue-haired woman nodded, casting a worried glance in her usually boisterous cousin's direction as he stood smiling silently at her, his eyes bright and happy even if his voice was silent.
"Is everything alright, Owain?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.
Severa snorted before bursting into laughter as Owain's face contorted into a frown, a hint of red tinging his cheeks when he looked away from the girls.
"He shouted himself hoarse urging on the locals," Severa explained, still laughing.
Lucina let out a small giggle before she caught herself, cleared her throat, and smiled kindly at Owain.
"Perhaps you had best seek out a healer, Cousin," she suggested. "The sight of a silent Owain is simply… wrong."
"See, I'm not the only one that thinks so," Severa added, elbowing him in the ribs.
The two women laughed at Owain's discomfort, the swordsman eventually letting out a sigh and grinning along with the two old friends.
"It's good to see you again, Luce," Owain croaked, giving his cousin a lighter hug this time.
"Seriously, go find a healer," Severa demanded, giving him a light shove. "Gawds… what would you do if I wasn't around to worry about you?"
Robin resisted the urge to grin through his dishevelled hair, now back to its usual position in his face obscuring half of his vision, as the bandits that had been in the warehouse glared up at Panne lording over them as their impromptu jailor, chaffing at the bonds now holding all their hands behind their backs. They had surrendered without a fuss after Robin's show of magical force, grumbling and cursing quietly as they were bound and left under the Taguel's watchful glare. Some of Flavia's warriors were on their way to take the prisoners into custody, but until then they were Panne's problem.
The battle for the city was winding down now, too; most of the bandits that had moved in had been killed in the initial assault, although a few small groups had gone to ground on the city's slums; Flavia was hunting them out now with Severa and Owain's help while Aversa led the archers around the outer perimeter of the area to ensure that nothing got by them.
"So what's in the box?" Robin asked again, kicking through the ash and slush that were the leftovers of his spell.
He and Gaius approached slowly, the slightly recuperated thief grinning ear to ear.
"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he assured the tactician. "Open it and find out."
"Well now I just gotta know," Rance muttered to Galle and Mari'ko, the three of them filing obediently behind the two Shepherds.
Galle rolled his eyes as Mari'ko silently followed, a brief flickering of her gaze in the Feroxi boy's direction the only indication she had even heard him.
"I think it's pretty safe to assume, then, that I'm about to find out why they decided to attack the city?" Robin asked Gaius, ignoring his students for the time being.
"C'mon already!" Rance practically exploded. "We ain't getting any younger! Open the freakin' box! Sir!"
Casting an amused grin over his shoulder Robin slowly approached the crate and laid both of his hands on top of it. There was a soft ruffling sound inside, similar to the sound that Robin had come to familiarize with the sensation of being yanked off the ground by either Sumia or Cordelia while they were riding their pegasai. Something was off, though. The contents of the box were giving off a much muskier, animal scent than a pegasus did.
Wings, then? Robin thought, carefully removing the bolt from the latch and flipping it open. Are these bandits smuggling juvenile pegasai or something?
As Robin gingerly opened the crate, lowering the front panel down to the ground, the crate's occupant let out a low growl.
Eyes widening Robin sucked in a breath as he crouched down, stabilizing himself with one hand still on the rim of the crate. He had seen a lot of amazing things in his lifetime; hell, he'd even assisted in killing a God, but nothing could have prepared him for the sheer ludicrousness of what he was looking at.
An avian raptor's head, similar to an eagle in appearance, stared at him with piercing green eyes as large, snow-white wings fluttered behind it as two taloned feet scraped threateningly at its wooden floor. However, from about the shoulders back the crate's occupant stopped being a bird and had the body of a feline beast, its rear legs and hindquarters belonging on a lion rather than a bird. Similar in size to one of the hunting dogs that Robin had seen in Valm, the creature was obviously still a juvenile.
"Is this… really…" Robin stammered, looking in awe at the small creature.
"Yup," Gaius said with a satisfied tone. "It's a gryphon. I managed to sneak a peek into the other boxes, and I overheard the bandits saying to take this one last because he was the smallest."
"So there's more of them?" Robin asked.
Gaius nodded, Panne glaring warily at the small creature from the thief's side while the three students all craned their necks to get a better look at the creature.
If pegasai could be considered uncommon and wyverns could similarly be considered rare, then gryphons were almost as unheard of as fictional unicorns. Said to long ago have gone extinct, there were tavern stories about seeing them in the wild, occasionally catching glimpses of the long-thought-extinct creatures through trees in the rugged northern forests or eastern Ylissean mountain ranges. Robin was unsure why, exactly, they had become so rare. Pegasai made better mounts, and wyverns were apparently more of a challenge to hunt, so why had gryphons faded to obscurity and legend? He wasn't sure, but looking at the timid creature now he could see why they were considered by so many to be treasures; even hunched up and quivering in fear the little gryphon exuded an aura of majestic dominance.
"Rance, throw me some jerky," Robin said, never taking his eyes off the gryphon.
"What? Why?" the Feroxi boy asked, obediently digging around his pack for some. "And more importantly, how did you know I had some on me?"
"Because I know my students," Robin answered, catching the small hunk of dried meat and offering it to the gryphon.
"C'mon out, little guy," Robin cooed. "No one's going to hurt you…"
There was a tense moment where Robin held his breath as he eyed off with the little creature, doing his best to project a non-threatening aura. Just as he was about to sigh in defeat the gryphon slowly began to creep forward, sniffing warily. As he reached the jerky he gave it a thorough inspection before snapping it in his beak and retreating to the corner of his crate.
"Aw, he likes you!" Rance laughed.
"I think that, objectively, the gryphon might just like the meat," Galle pointed out.
Mari'ko moved forward, apparently oblivious to her classmate's discussion, crouching down next to Robin with her hands resting on her knees. She quirked her head to one side while looking at the gryphon before reaching out an open hand to it, never breaking eye contact with the creature. Robin watched with awe as the small gryphon crept forward again, this time sniffing carefully at Mari'ko's hand before nuzzling gently up to it, the way a house cat might have.
"I don't believe it," Galle muttered.
"Okay, so I guess the Princess made a friend?" Rance shrugged.
Robin quirked a brow as the gryphon crept forward a little more, Mari'ko putting a more strength into her stroking of the creature's feathered head and neck. For a moment her face softened and she muttered something in her native tongue, and the gryphon leapt bodily into her arms. Mari'ko was almost bowled over by the large creature, but apparently it was lighter than it looked, as she regained her balance and looked with a blank face to her teacher.
"Okay," Robin shrugged, standing up straight. "I guess he's your problem now."
Far in the south, near the border mountain range that separated Plegia and Ylisse laid the Ylissean city state of Themis. Having been razed nearly a decade ago by the 'Mad King' of Plegia Gangrel, the once beautiful city had bounced back surprisingly fast. Where Ylisstol had a tendency for building upwards and filling the city with great spires and towers, and the city state of Jagen far in the mountainous east tended to simply build atop the mountains or remain in their already constructed forts, Themis was a squat city that spread outwards onto the fields surrounding it. A little further south the Themisian Flood Plains made the perfect place for the horsemasters to train and breed the mounts that the region was famous for, and horses featured heavily in the City's iconography. Under the careful eye of Duke Roark, left in the position of power by the late Duke Themis during the war with Plegia, the city had recovered its former glory and then-some. The region's chief magistrate, Lady Maribelle and her husband General Kellam had both had much to do with the rebuilding process, too, and in the last few years the city had even become a hub of trade between the two neighbouring nations. In fact, much of the trade conducted between Ylisse and the Valmese states also occurred in Themis, making the city irreplaceable to the Haildom.
Or so everyone kept saying. The truth was that, to the Highborn Merchant Class that occupied the city's finer districts, the place itself didn't matter. They would gladly do business in a Plegian swamp if it meant greater profits.
Such merchants had been quick to seize power in the chaos that had occurred after the continual warring, first with Plegia and then with Valm, paying no heed at all to how close their world came to crashing around them when Grima was revived. They only thought of longevity of their profits, and that was how they would remain. It wasn't love or friendship that made the world turn, but greed and coin.
That was what Idallia, the eldest daughter of the Rommel Merchant House and current head of the family, told herself as she strode down the halls of the Themis Merchant's Guild. Her long, pale purple hair fluttered delicately behind her, the only concession she made to her gender; everything else about her spoke purely of practicality, so much to the point that in the past she had been mistaken for a man. A tight leather fest covered a simple cream blouse, and dark workers pants, while of a high quality, could not be disguised as anything besides their true form. She nudged the black rimmed glasses she wore further up her small, thin nose as her immaculate work boots clattered on the smooth stone with every step, the sound echoed by the continual presence of her wiry clerk, Hin'rath. The scraggly man's unkempt shoulder-length black hair and vacant gaze belied just how dangerous a mind he was, but in reality Idallia kept the man around more for his eidetic memory than any other reason; his ability to memorize anything she put in front of him and then recall it at a moment's notice was more than useful to her as a merchant. The Rommel Clan held shares in most of the businesses in the city, if not owning them outright; there was a lot she needed to keep on top of, and Hin'rath's ability saved her a lot of reading.
Usually Idallia was considered to be quite an attractive woman; however her normally pretty features were pulled down in a tight frown at present as she stormed through the guild hall, prompting the lower-ranking clerks wandering around to leap out of her way out of fear of earning her ire. While there was no basis for her terrifying reputation, there were always rumours and stories…
"My lady, perhaps you should calm down before entering the meeting," Hin'rath suggested dully, the man's monotone voice like the sound of dry leafs of paper rubbing together.
"Shut up, Hin'rath," Idallia growled, her tone warning and her fists clenching.
"I would just like to point out what happened last time you attended such a meeting in a foul mood…" the clerk sighed, stopping abruptly as his employer came to a halt.
She cast a withering glare over her shoulder, not needing to be reminded of the sheer size of the contract her foolish youth had cost her during her early days as head of the household, before returning to stomping through the hall in fuming silence. Hin'rath simply sighed before following his mistress, shaking his head slightly at her impulsive attitude.
And why wouldn't she be mad? She had just lost an important foothold in Regna Ferox thanks to the cheap labour she had hired being mistaken for 'bandits'. If this ever came back to her it would destroy her Clan's public image, and no amount of explaining would be able to make it go away. She wasn't coming out of this debacle empty handed, though; five juvenile gryphons, creatures long thought to be extinct, were en-route to the city as she fumed, the sixth having been captured by a local force of warriors. Losing one sixth of her profits wasn't all that bad, though; she would still easily be able to recoup her losses from the Silva debacle by selling the creatures to the nobles that collected such rarities.
Idallia stopped in front of one of the nondescript doors that lined the hallway, taking a deep breath to compose herself. It wasn't often that all of the Guild leaders gathered in one city, so she needed to present herself accordingly as the Representative of the Themis branch of the Guild.
Slightly calmer, Idallia pushed the door open and strode in, knowing that there was no need to knock while she was among equals. As she took in the familiar sight of the four other merchants sitting waiting for her Hin'rath closed the door behind her before darting forward to draw out her chair.
Three older men and one woman of middle-age looked to her expectantly as she plastered her best fake smile on her face.
"Good morning, Alvin. Good morning Mar'kale. Good morning Abdul. And good morning, Lady Anna."
The four senior merchants returned her greetings as Idallia took her seat. They were all representatives of their certain area of the world's merchant guild, however each man or woman at the table had begun life as a peddler or apprentice, and each of them still had keen minds and wits. These meetings always tended to exhaust the younger Idallia, but the fact that she was on the council at such a young age was truly an honour.
"I pray we wrap this up quickly," Mar'kale growled through a thick beard, always the first to complain. "This city stinks of horse."
The oldest among them, Mar'kale had started life as a blacksmith in Chon'sin, choosing to go into business after his apprenticeship ended. Now the man owned almost every smith in the small nation, not to mention having many trade deals all over the world for his goods. It had been a long time since the big man had swung a hammer himself, but he still retained his bulk beneath his homeland's native robes from his days working the bellows.
"That has to be some sort of record," Alvin chuckled, the Ylisstolan merchant grinning to Abdul. "Barely twenty seconds and already complaining. How long did it take him to start moaning about the heat when we met in Plegia Capital?"
"Nearly five minutes," the last man at the table said, his bushy black eyebrow quirking almost all the way up to the strange wrapped head-dress he wore.
Alvin and Abdul had been in business together for a long time, despite their respective homelands' quarrels. Alvin, the fruit merchant, figured there was always demand for fresh produce and lumber in a desert nation, while Abdul surmised that rare spices and exotic bric-a-bracks from his nation would always be welcome across borders. Both men were in their mid-fifties, and while the slimmer Alvin wore a crisp suit Abdul sported long, flowing robes more suited for his home in the desert. While Alvin had spent some time in the Ylissean military, specifically during the crusade that saw Exalt Emmeryn thrust into power, Abdul was a merchant through-and-through.
"Now, now, boys," Anna chided jokingly. "Let's not gang up on the old man just because he's… old. If you were bald like that you would be cranky, too."
The older woman cast Idallia a wink, her long red tresses beginning to grey at the temples but her mind still as sharp as when she had been a travelling peddler, the type she now represented on the guild council. Although 'Anna' was technically the merchant's Clan name, she and her family all chose to sport it as their given name, offering no end to the grief of anyone that had to deal with them on a semi-regular basis. The Anna matriarch was similarly dressed to Idallia, wearing red and yellow working clothes under a deep red silk shawl that had apparently been a souvenir one of her nieces had brought back from Chon'sin.
Idallia sighed quietly as the old man harrumphed, responding to the teasing by firing shots back at the other merchants the way they always did. She tuned out as the four older merchants descended into the same bickering play-fighting they always did, silently wondering how her Grandfather had been able to stomach dealing with the childish fools.
"Curious, what is happening in Regna Ferox right now," Abdul said, snapping Idallia out of her reverie.
"I keep saying we need a representative from the north," Alvin sighed. "Especially now that things are so unstable up there."
"I get periodic reports from my niece," Anna pointed out. "The Khans are still maintaining their power. Barely."
"How is this going to effect the prices of lumber, though?" Mar'kale pondered out loud.
"It shouldn't be too bad," Idallia chimed in. "Silva's a small supplier; most of the Plegian and west-Ylisseans tend to buy from the Ylissean mills, anyway."
The four others nodded agreement, and Idallia almost let out a sigh of relief.
"Strange, though, that the bandits would occupy the city rather than sack it and retreat," Alvin pointed out, leaning on the table.
Idallia felt her tension rise again, desperately trying to come up with a way to change the subject. Fortunately for her, it looked like she wouldn't have to as Mar'kale let out a hearty laugh.
"What are you worried about, boy?" the Chon'sinian all but bellowed in his mirth. "Do you have some secret wine-groves in the north we don't know about?"
"Bah, if only," Alvin groaned, earning more laughter from the rest of the table. "It's been a harsh year for the wineries; it will going to go down as a rare vintage in the future."
"Because he didn't make enough to save as well as drink," Anna added cheekily.
"Oh, like your wine cellar's any smaller than mine," Alvin grumbled.
Idallia covertly sighed through her nose, deciding that things had been far too close. She would have to be careful who she sent to do her work abroad in the future.
Idallia sighed later that afternoon, sinking into one of the armchairs in her study. As always, Hin'rath was at her side, filling a fine crystal glass with her favourite brandy to take the edge off the day.
"Your brother has returned to the city, mistress," the clerk reported, his tone as bored as ever.
"Have him meet me here," Idallia sighed, taking a long sip from her glass. "Leave the bottle, though."
Hin'rath nodded, placing the crystal bottle full of the fine amber liquid on the nearby table before scurrying from the room.
Idallia sighed again, sinking deeper into her chair. She was seriously considering killing her brother for being unable to control the mercenaries in Silva. They needed the foothold in the north for the next stage of their plan, and they needed to establish it now. The Khan Tournament was only a few short years away, and the Rommel Clan needed to be well-established in Regna Ferox by then.
She perked up slightly as footsteps echoed outside her study, sitting up properly in her armchair just as her brother burst into the room, still filthy from the road.
"Hello, sister," he said, his voice betraying how bone-tired he was.
Idallia decided that she wouldn't kill him, but she wouldn't be gentle about this either. Her crystal glass shattered on the wall beside her brother's head as she crossed the space, slugging the younger man in the jaw in her rage.
"Dammit, Maris, you almost cost us everything!" she roared in his face.
Maris didn't flinch, although his eyebrow rose a little at his sister's blow. He was the warrior in the family; easily a foot taller than Idallia and twice as broad. He had served among the Themisian Light Cavalry during the war with Valm while Idallia had only been a reservist, guarding the camps and running for her life during the flight from Steiger. Still, though, the younger man respected his sister, and knew he had screwed up royally in the north.
"We can recoup the losses with the gryphons," he assured her. "Even just selling one or two will easily cover what we lost-"
"That's not the point!" Idallia shouted, running a hand over her face as she turned away from Maris' impassive features. "I told you right at the outset to be 'subtle'! Do you even know what that word means!?"
Maris scoffed as he crossed the room, pouring two more glasses of brandy and offering one to his sister.
"I'm not stupid, sister," he told her. "Here. Take a drink. Relax. You'll live longer. I could use one, too… Do you have any idea how unpleasant it was to sneak out of Silva by wading through the river? I lost three men to hypothermia."
"However, it was worth it. We already have buyers for two of the gryphons," Maris went on, pacing to the window overlooking the Themis marketplace below them. "Hell, I almost want to keep one for myself."
Idallia sunk back into her chair, glaring at the glass in her hand before downing the contents in one gulp.
"Then keep one," she sighed. "You're the cavalryman without a horse. And you did find the gryphons. Keep one as a mount if you really want, but sell the rest."
Maris nodded, leaning against the window frame and grinning at his reflection. "I knew there was a reason I agreed to join the family business."
Idallia groaned as Hin'rath materialized at her shoulder and poured her another drink, choosing not to mention that if Maris hadn't gone hunting for the gryphons in the first place and stuck to their plan then the 'bandits' wouldn't have gotten bored in Silva and wrecked the place.
"I suppose, in the long run, we can just buy the Silva Mills," Idallia groaned into her glass.
"There's your optimism again," Maris grinned, draining his own glass. "But we have one more problem to deal with."
"Lovely," Idallia sighed. "What now?"
"Khan Flavia herself led the Feroxi forces that retook the city," Maris told her. "And she wasn't alone. Grandmaster Robin himself was with her, and he brought his school's entire staff with him."
Idallia practically leapt out of her chair at this revelation, almost dropping her glass in the process.
"What?" she breathed. "He was… there? I thought he was done with politics!"
"Apparently he wanted to get some experience for some of his students," Maris went on. "We need to find some way to get him out of the picture, though, if we want to carry out our objectives."
Idallia nodded in agreement, thinking quickly. What they needed was something that would distract him for a long period of time. The Rommel Clan didn't have the resources or allies to instigate civil unrest and start a war, but they did have a small standing army, with a lot of veteran soldiers trained in covert operations to make use of.
"Burn it down," she said at last, still staring into her glass.
"What?" Maris asked evenly, moving to stand in front of his sister.
Idallia didn't answer at first, draining the rest of her drink slowly this time and letting the alcohol burn its way down to her stomach, savouring the flavour of the drink.
"The school," she said after she lowered her glass. "While Robin's away. Burn it to the ground."
Maris let out a harsh sigh as he checked the straps on his saddle one last time before rising back up, running a gloved hand through his short light-purple hair.
His sister, as always, was right. They needed to take Robin out of the equation if they were to move on the north, and the best way to do that would be distracting him. According to their reports it had taken the Grandmaster nearly two years to properly establish his school; it would be cutting things fine if it took him that short an amount of time again, but they could work with that window of time.
Idallia, as always, had been right. The quickest way to solve this mess was to burn down the Tactician School in Nauta. Not just do 'some' damage, but to raze it to the ground so he had to move entirely. It wasn't the only way, but it was the fastest, and time was not something that the Rommel Clan had a lot of.
All around him in the small stables the other members of his party, nine of the best soldiers that his sister employed, were making their own preparations. They were all veterans of Valm, like Maris was, although some wore their experience a little plainer to see than he did; scars criss-crossed bare arms and snaked up necks and jaws; two men both wore eye-patches, and one moved with an obvious limp. Like him, they were all older men; despite pushing thirty Maris was still the youngest man in the group, the oldest being in his early fifties if Maris remembered correctly.
But they were veterans, each and every one, and more importantly they were all loyal to Maris and his sister, and would carry out their orders without hesitation.
"Ten against the old Grandmaster?" one of the men muttered. "What did we do to get stuck with the suicide mission?"
"You can relax, Adrik," the oldest man said in a calm voice. "Robin's not going to be there. None of the teachers are."
"It still takes three days of non-stop riding to get there, Maurice," Adrik complained. "And they're a lot closer than we are."
"So we torch the fort and run, just like Steiger," Maris said, checking his sword before sliding it back into its sheathe with an audible clacking sound.
"I don't like having to do this to the old Grandmaster, either," he went on. "But if we don't want to have to deal with him later, we need to get in and distract him now. Put a little fear into him. Make him realise that the days of following the old order are over."
"Of course, sir," Adrik said, growing quiet again.
Maris nodded to Maurice, the oldest man grinning slightly. They had been part of the same squad back in Valm, so knew each other's habits well by now. The only reason Maurice hadn't retired yet was because Maris had requested him personally for the Rommel's private army.
"Right boys, let's get this over with," Maris said, swinging up into the saddle of one of the young horses that had been commissioned to replace those that had been lost in Valm. "Mount up. We ride to the Longfort, pick up our supplies from our contacts on the other side, and make for Nauta. Don't fall behind."
The other men all followed suit, the sudden explosion of movement making Maris' mount tense up. With soothing noises he stroked the horse's neck, frowning. It just wasn't the same as his old partner, but then again nothing ever would be. Satisfied now that his mount was calmer Maris dug his heels into its sides, urging it out into the night. They had a long way to go, after all.
AN2015: For those who care, I actually decided on the name 'Future's End' before I found out that DC Comics had used the same name for a run of Justice League stories. I came up with it first, dammit!