Kidnapped?
The first thing Lucina thought was that she was lying. Perhaps some strange marketing scheme that she'd come up with to gain attention. The panic in her eyes seemed genuine enough that even Lucina could have been fooled into thinking that she was telling the truth.
Except... what did Anna have to gain from pretending one of her daughters had been taken?
Attention, perhaps, but attention was never the woman's final goal. It was always money. All this fuss wasn't worth it if it was just attention she was getting. Maybe one of Anna's daughters really had been taken.
With a huff, Lucina pulled the fabric down over her face. If Anna had lost one of her daughters, it was none of her concern. It would all sort itself out.
She turned back to the merchant, fiddling with the fabric wrapped over her head. "So... you would not take a ladle for silks as fine as this one? Then do you have any that you would..." she trailed off, and her lips pulled into a frown as she realized the merchant wasn't paying attention. "Ahem."
The merchant blinked, and when he faced her again, his smile was strained. "Oh! Sorry, what were you saying?"
"I was asking if you had any cheaper fabrics? Ones that you would be happy to be rid of for... something like this tattered cloak?"
It was not ideal, Lucina would admit, to sell such a precious item. It had stayed with her through the end of the world, and she had gotten so used to wearing it, it was almost like it was an old friend. Through it had been battered and worn over the years, though some of it had burned away in the battle she'd fled from in Ylisstol, it was still hers, and–
And that wasn't the point. The point was, she needed these supplies, even if she had to make a few sacrifices for them.
"You're quite insistent on this, aren't you?" the merchant asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I have no other choice," Lucina replied.
"In that case, I'll go back and see if I can find anything for you." With one last strange look her way, the merchant disappeared behind a pair of tent flaps.
Over her shoulder, Lucina heard Anna already rambling something out to the guards, details such as where she'd last seen her daughter, what she looked like. Lucina tuned it out, instead looking around at the colorful fabrics laid out over the merchant's table. She ran her hand through one of them, her fingers gliding over the fine texture. Sewing was one of the few things her mother had taught her before she died, so all Lucina would need was material to put together an appropriate disguise.
Not for the first time today, she wished she had Owain, Inigo, or Noire's skill in sneaking things away. She couldn't argue that these fabrics were well worth their price, and she would have gladly paid it, had she her purse, or any gold at all. As much as she might not like it, stealing was what she might have needed to resort to, were she confident in her skills in not being caught.
"–shall lead the search for little girl. Gregor is experienced in following footsteps, so he should find little girl for others, no?" A familiar, rough voice snapped Lucina back to the present. She looked up, and she noted, with some confusion, that Gregor stood at the head of a group of armed guards and men.
What was he doing up there? Is he going to lead a search party to look for Anna's daughter? she thought, frowning. Why would he go out of his way to help a woman like her?
With one last word between them that Lucina couldn't hear, Gregor and the rest of the men with him turned and broke into a sprint toward the town gate. As Lucina watched them go, it suddenly occurred to her that maybe she should step in. She had no stake in this search, that was true, but she could still tag along to make sure Uncle Gregor didn't get hurt.
Not that he'd need help from me, she thought. He's Uncle Gregor. I'm sure he'll be fine.
Behind her, the tent flap fluttered open again. Lucina spun around just in time to see the merchant walk back through, something brown draped over his arms.
"Here you go," he said, and he dropped the fabric in his hands over the table. "It's a little worn, but it's the cheapest I have."
Cheap was one way to put it. The cloth was practically falling apart, strands sticking out at the edges as if one pull would bring it all undone. It looked old and ratty, not to mention all the holes, but at least it was something she could use.
"It will do. Thank you," she replied. She pulled her old cloak over her head and pushed it across the table, and as the merchant took it, Lucina pulled the fabric toward her.
"It must be horrible, what that woman is going through," the merchant said. Lucina, busy with folding the cloth, only hummed in agreement, and the merchant added, "If it was my daughter, I can't imagine how I would feel."
"Uh-huh. Do you know where I would be able to purchase a needle and thread?"
Without a word, the merchant crouched under the table and produced a small crate brimming with spools of thread and a bag of needles. "If you want to buy one of each, it will cost you five gold for both."
That was five more gold than she had right now. Wincing, Lucina patted a hand over herself to see if she had anything else to trade away, but she all she still had was the soup ladle.
"Would you accept this soup ladle as payment?" she asked, raising it up over the table again.
The merchant shook his head. "Sorry, miss. You're going to have to do a little better than that."
"I'm sorry, this is all I've–"
Lucina cut off as something slammed into her back. Caught off guard, Lucina stumbled forward, but she managed to catch herself before she lost her balance. The same could not be said for whoever bumped into her, if the large clatter behind her was anything to go by. A few people shouted in surprise, and Lucina was about to apologize when the other person spoke.
"Ah, Gregor is sorry, he was in a rush and not looking where he was going."
Lucina froze. For a minute, she couldn't decide whether to respond or to run away. The one thing that her mind settled on was that, no matter what, she could not turn around.
"It's–" Lucina coughed, before she continued in a deeper voice, "It's fine."
"It is? Oh, that is good." She heard him climb to his feet and wipe his hands over his clothes, before he spun around to face the others. "Gregor is fine, do not worry. Now, let us get going! We must hurry!"
Noises of agreement rose from the group gathered behind him, and what Lucina assumed was a small crowd broke off down the street. Only when the sound of their footsteps had begun to fade did Lucina dare to steal a glance after them.
Was that... Uncle Gregor? Lucina narrowed her eyes, and she glanced down at herself curiously. She was by no means heavy. A lifetime of fighting the Risen had made her strong, yes, but she was still rather light, especially compared to a mighty warrior such as Gregor.
Maybe she really had surprised him, but there was still no way she could have knocked him over.
"Odd," she muttered to herself. She glanced at the shrinking group of people heading toward the exit, then back to her hands.
It could have simply been paranoia. Perhaps he had been a lot weaker in the past, and there was no reason for her to worry. But in the off chance that there was something wrong...
"Miss? Excuse me? Do you still need the needle and thread?"
The merchant's voice snapped her back to the present. Lucina looked back over her shoulder, and she considered it for a moment. After a brief hesitation, she asked, "I... is there any other way I could pay for it?"
Another branch snapped underfoot as Gregor pushed his way through the trees. Above him, birds scattered into the air from the racket he was making, but he paid them no attention. He had a girl to find.
A branch rose to block his path. A swift swing of his sword split it in half. Even as the branch was still falling to the ground, he peered past it and into the thick bushes littering the forest floor. Nothing seemed out of place, nothing that could indicate that anyone had been through here recently.
The forest was a big place. There was a lot of ground the girl's kidnapper could have gone over, and it could take him and the rest of the townsfolk all day to find his trail. That made it all the more important that they complete the search as quickly as possible.
Gregor hopes little girl is unharmed. He knows how vile bandits can be, he thought with a grimace. Gregor will not fail. He is swell-sword, after all. He will find her, he has no doubt, but he was paid to protect woman and family from harm. He cannot let the vile bandits touch little girl!
A bush rustled in the corner of his eye. In an instant, he spun to face it, his sword held out and ready to attack, but to his relief, it was one of the town guards who stepped out.
"Has guardsman found anything?" he asked, lowering his blade.
The guardsman shook his head. With a sigh, Gregor turned away and continued his trek into the woodlands.
"Hey!" the guardsman said, carefully picking his way through the bushes as he followed Gregor. "You know, it would probably help if you told us what exactly we were looking for."
"It would?" Gregor gave the man a confused look. "Gregor thinks he was very straightforward."
"Yes, well 'something strange' is not exactly the best description. How do we know if something looks strange?"
"Ah. That is not hard to see," Gregor replied, only stopping to bat aside a protruding fern. "Man carrying heavy thing like child, he cannot be very careful. Finding trace of movement, it should be very clear, no?"
"I suppose so."
"Yes, guardsman must look for things like broken branches, or bent ferns. Forest does not swallow footsteps, so it is not hard to find path where bandit has gone through like... like..." Gregor stopped, and a frown crossed his face.
A second later, the guardsman caught up. When he saw Gregor stop, he did the same, following Gregor's gaze to the trail left through the forest floor, to the bushes strewn aside and saplings snapped at the base like a cannonball had come through.
Gregor could have dismissed it as a very large animal lumbering through the woods, but the deep gashes left in the floor made it clear that something heavy had been dragged through here. The grooves that looked like the soles of sandals only made it even clearer what had happened here. To his right, he found at the end of the trail lay the campsite he had stayed at the night before.
His eyes widened, and he cursed under his breath. What? Bandit was there? How did Gregor not notice?
"Guardsman" Gregor replied, and he turned to face the guardsman. "Gather others, bring them here. Search party must make haste if they are to catch bandit."
"Will do." The guardsman saluted him, and he disappeared back into the forest. As soon as he left, Gregor turned back to the trail.
Just when he was about to start running after it, he spotted a flash of purple on the side. Narrowing his eyes, he knelt down to find a scrap of cloth stuck in a thorn bush. He pulled it out, and he examined it carefully.
The last time he'd seen them, the merchant and her family had not been wearing any purple. That meant that this could not have come from the daughter. So where could it have come from?
The bandit. That was the only answer.
A memory flashed before his eyes. A blood-stained axe. A purple loincloth, fluttering in the wind. A raspy breath tickled his ear.
Slowly, he rose to his feet. Gregor's lips pulled down into a scowl, and his head craned to peer at the end of the trail disappearing into the woods.
"So," he whispered, tightening his grip on his sword, "he is here."
Bit of a short chapter this week. Not feeling too hot on writing, and I've had to do more life stuff, so the updates might be a bit on the slower end from here on out. Thinking about the uncertain future is a tiresome thing. I really do enjoy writing this story, but sometimes I just can't find the energy for it when I've got to do something else.
On a more positive note, I'm finally going to be fully vaccinated... sometime soon, so if I ever vanish, it won't be because of covid, which I'm thankful for. Until next time, I wish you all well, and stay safe!