Author's note: I've noticed these current chapters end up shorter than I think they will. So even though I know I have a lot of subjects I want to touch on in this camp chapter, I'm not sure it'll end up being as long as I think it is.

On that note, Hector ending up with the box is kind of interesting because it makes me wonder what he'll do. Of all the current characters, Hector (or Matthew, but Matthew's a different story) is the most likely to hide something. I don't know how long or if he even will keep this secret come next chapter though. I want Hector to not come off as a douche.

Chapter 38: Knocked Down

An excerpt from Tactician William's Diary:

The battle at Laus was just the beginning. In spite of that, the toll it took on our small group was heavy. There were no losses, and in fact we added Guy to our ranks, but the near fate that befell us did claim Lord Helman. It brought home a point that was difficult to consider. Eliwood's quest was not a simple search and rescue anymore. The Black Fang were now out in force even in Lycia, and they wanted Eliwood's head. Add in Hector, and you had half of Lycia's potential future in the palm of my hands. The hands of a tactician who was feeling just a tad overwhelmed.

The day had finally come to a close. As Will had suspected, they had not managed to cover too much distance until the night overtook them. However, it was likely that within a day or so they would find themselves at the border of Caelin, which they would then use to cross into Laus. Within the week, they would be speaking with Lord Darin. Will marveled at the speed they were making. Perhaps because unlike Lyn's initial journey, this one started with a sense of urgency. Lyn's gained it as time went on, their journey to Caelin constantly hampered. Not that they hadn't been coming across troubles already.

Will sighed. The one thing they still really needed were more spell casters. He was also noting that with Guy in the mix their supplies were growing in number. Part of the reason they had made such poor time during Lyn's journey was how much they needed to carry. They had never hired a caravan to help them, not that any would while Lyn was suspected of being a fraud. Now that he was traveling with Eliwood, he supposed he should give some real consideration to hiring a caravan to carry their supplies if they got the chance. It would mean they could carry plenty of back-up weapons and staves, which could only result in good in Will's mind.

All these thoughts swirled in his head as he sat at the fire, waiting for Lowen to finish cooking their meal. "You're sure you're okay with being the chef?" Will asked for what must've been the third time. "We can set up a schedule and have people take turns."

"I honestly enjoy it." Lowen said. "Perhaps in another week or so I'll take you up on that offer, or if I'm especially tired, but cooking always puts my mind at ease."

"How so?" Will asked. His experiences with cooking hadn't been bad, but he wouldn't call it relaxing. "Isn't it somewhat stressful with the timing and the tasting and making sure you don't burn the end result?"

"For most people it's definitely like that." Lowen said. "For me, it's more of a reminder of home."

"Home?" Will asked. His mind drifted towards Lyn and the others, who likely even now waited for at least another of his letters if not his arrival. He had tried writing them telling them of his joining Eliwood on his quest, but too many things had happened and now, especially when he was exhausted, words seem to fail him when putting quill to paper.

"You'll think it's silly." Lowen chuckled.

"Try me." Will said, interested.

"When I was a kid, my village was attacked by bandits." Lowen began. "I lived on the far outskirts of Pharae. I think our village was much closer to Santaruz castle than it ever was to Pharae." He smiled at the reminiscence. Will thought he saw Lowen's eyes gleaming, but his hair quickly covered them again. "The knights of Pharae still came and protected us."

"Sounds more like why you became a knight." Will said.

"It is." Lowen laughed. "For me, anyway. My father, who was inspired by the knights as well, was too old to begin training by that point. So he did the only thing he knew how. Cook. He made a meal to thank Eliwood's grandfather, who was the Marquis at the time. The Marquis loved it so much, he asked my father to become their cook right then and there!"

"That… sounds crazy." Will said, though he found himself chuckling along with Lowen.

"I know! So, he became their cook. He's still there even now! While Father was the cook, I trained to be a knight. When I passed my exam, Sir Marcus agreed to train me personally! I was so honored." Lowen continued.

"So, what does that have to do with the calm cooking?" Will asked.

"Ah, right." Lowen said. "I suppose the reason isn't as deep as I thought initially. My father often told me this when I was having a hard time in training: If the stomach is empty, empty too lies the heart."

"So people who go hungry can't have compassion for others?" Will asked.

"Right." Lowen said. "After that, I began bringing extra rations with me wherever I went, to make sure I didn't go hungry. Eventually, I realized food kept me calm, kept me thinking straight. That extended to cooking, which I would always do for Lord Eliwood when I had the chance."

"So it helps you collect your thoughts." Will said, simplifying the entire tale.

"Well yeah, but the context helps." Lowen defended.

"I suppose it does." Will admitted. He certainly felt like he understood the teal haired knight a little better now. Especially since it was so hard to see his eyes.

Oswin and Marcus were currently tending to the weapons. After a full day, their weapons had seen a lot of battle all at once. Luckily, none of their weapons seem to have seen any noticeable deficiencies that needed immediate attention. A bit of sharpening and they would be good to go. "Can I ask, Sir Marcus?" Oswin asked, turning to his companion.

"What would you like to know?" Marcus asked.

"Why didn't you go with Lord Elbert?"

"Ah." Marcus said, crossing his arms. "It is a difficult question to answer. I have served Caelin faithfully for twenty years now. I enjoy the privilege few knights ever see, the title of Paladin."

"I know all that." Oswin said. "It's why I'm confused."

"Well, why do you serve Lord Hector?" Marcus asked. "Simply because Lord Uther asked you to?"

"I have served Ostia faithfully for over ten years." Oswin said. It was a small point of pride for him. "Not once has Lord Uther or Lord Hector made me regret that decision."

"I see." Marcus said. "Well my case is much the same. I serve Lady Eleanora and Lord Eliwood just as much as Lord Elbert. When Lord Elbert asked me to remain in Pharae to protect it should something happen to him, I thought nothing of it."

"Until he really did go missing." Oswin said.

Marcus grimaced. "If you ask whether I regret not accompanying him knowing what I do now, I cannot deny a small part of me wishes I had been at his side."

"I see." Oswin replied.

"However, there is no evidence to suggest that Lord Elbert isn't perfectly safe." Marcus continued. "Even if he is not safe, my being at his side may only have made Pharae's current situation worse."

"What could've possibly happened…" Oswin sighed.

"I do not know." Marcus said. "I feel poorly for Isadora, whom we left back in Pharae. She wished greatly to come."

"Why is that?"

"Her fiancé, Harken, left with Lord Elbert." Marcus said.

"Then why insist she remain?" Oswin asked. "It seems having her come would be a better idea than someone like Lowen."

"Someone must remain to protect the castle." Marcus said. "And while I do not doubt Isadora's skill, her heart may lead her to make a mistake she cannot undo."

"Hmm…" Oswin mused.

"You have a difficult task as well." Marcus said. "You must keep Lord Hector motivated. There will come a time when things get difficult for them both, and we as loyal retainers must be ready."

"Your faith in the tactician is slim?" Oswin asked. "Lord Hector has his personal problems with him, sure, but his skills cannot be easily denied."

"It is only thanks to those skills that we may stand a chance in this venture." Marcus said. "I desperately hope I am wrong."

"So." Matthew said, sitting down very deliberately across from Guy at the mess table. "So so so…"

"Spit it out." Guy growled. He was quickly regretting his decision to join mostly because of Matthew's annoying grin. The man would just not let sleeping dogs lie.

"You know Will." Matthew said.

"I do." Guy answered.

"Elaborate?" Matthew requested.

"Eat me." Guy replied.

"Well what if I told you I know him too?"

"I would say obviously?"

"I meant before now."

"When exactly are we talking?"

"Ah-ha!" Matthew cried, "I got you interested."

"If only so you'll shut up…" Guy muttered.

"I knew Will during the battle for Caelin." Matthew said. "He's the tactician that helped Lyn take back her home without a single casualty, after all."

"Wait." Guy said, his mouth opening slightly in surprise, "No casualties?"

"Injuries, sure," Matthew said, "but not a single death."

"Okay fine," Guy admitted, "You did get me interested."

"Then first… give and take, my friend." Matthew smiled cheekily.

"Fine." Guy growled. "I met Will approximately ten months ago. He, Wallace and Lucius came to the Kutolah tribe. For a short time, they trained there. The air of the plains helped Will run farther and meditate deeper."

"The Kutolah… Rath's tribe?" Matthew asked.

Guy gaped. "You know tribe leader's son Rath?"

Matthew laughed. "Yeah, if it's the same one. Archer, horse named Hailey, silent warrior type?"

Guy nodded. "Sounds like him. I knew the chief said Will was a friend of his son's, but I wasn't sure if it was truth."

"You doubted your tribe leader?" Matthew asked, eyebrow raised.

"Not doubted!" Guy quickly amended. "More like… we hadn't heard from Rath in a long time, so it was strange to hear about him from someone we didn't know."

"I see." Matthew said. "But no juicy details on Will?"

"Wallace seemed to keep him away from learning the Kutolah sword style, though we were willing to teach him." Guy said. "Perhaps he thought Will wasn't ready? I'll admit, Will walks much taller now."

"He hasn't gotten any taller." Matthew responded.

"It's a Sacaen expression." Guy sighed. "It means he's more comfortable with his body."

"In shape." Matthew corrected.

"If you want to be rude about it." Guy shrugged.

"It's true, he's a lot better than a year ago." Matthew said. "Even so, he hasn't done much fighting yet."

"Does he need to?" Guy asked.

"I… suppose not." Matthew admitted. "He might be best as a strategist anyway."

"Now he's just better at keeping himself alive." Guy added.

"Always a good thing."

The two sat there, eating in silence, before Guy realized something. "Hey! You promised me an exchange!"

Matthew clicked his tongue in annoyance. "Fine. Let's see. I met Will at the same time as Rath, actually. It was in Araphen, and the Marquis had just fallen under attack…"

Dorcas was sitting by the fire after dinner. It had been a nice meal, but after meals he had taken up the habit of fingering the small locket his wife had given him before he left. It contained a picture of his precious daughter, lovingly painted by the town artist. He had even given them a nice discount for it, for which he was exceedingly grateful.

"Dorcas!" Bartre called, walking over to him. The gleam in his eyes told him his quiet time was over. "So this is where you've been!"

Dorcas sighed.

"Now, we fight!" Bartre demanded, never mind that the sun had already set.

"What?" Dorcas asked, confused. "I don't understand, are we supposed to duel in the dark?"

"Call it what you will, but now we fight!" Bartre laughed. "There comes a time when every man must test his mettle!" He slapped his muscled torso. "So far I've lost fifty-eight against you and won fifty-seven. I won't lose today!"

Dorcas sighed. Right now, all he wanted to do was pray for his wife and daughter before going to bed. "Fine. You know what? Why don't we just say you won this one, then?"

"Idiot!" Bartre shouted. "How can you say that? And you call yourself the toughest axeman alive?"

Dorcas didn't even understand Bartre's scoring system, this just pushed it over the edge. "I don't remember ever saying that." Having had enough, he stood up and walked to his tent. He forgot he happened to be sharing it with the man who was now running after him.

"Wait, Dorcas! Wait!"

"Sit." Serra demanded, though in a much softer voice than she usually used. Eliwood had been treated and was essentially good to go, but Serra insisted he spend the night bandaged up and off of his leg just in case.

"As you wish." He conceded. His leg had been throbbing rather fierce throughout the rest of the march. Eventually, Will had called it and Eliwood knew it had been out of consideration for him as he lagged behind everyone else.

"You need to take care of yourself better, laddie." Wallace said, laughing.

"And YOU need to tell me when arrows scratch you." Serra said, poking the jovial general. "It could have been poisoned, you dolt! Or did you forget what happened to Will?"

"Ah yes, the infamous poisoning incident." Eliwood said. "Lyn managed to regale me with the end of that harrowing adventure in her last letter."

"So, you write to Lyn regularly, hmm?" Serra said. "Interesting."

"I've never had the chance to speak to a Sacaen at length before." Eliwood admitted. "It's quite interesting how differently she sees things."

"Everyone's different if you take the time to learn." Wallace said. "I retired to be a farmer until I was called back to battle."

"A farmer?" Eliwood asked.

"Yep. I love me my crops." Wallace said. "Right now Will and all you youngins need me, but once everything is over I'll head back to my farm. I want to grow a whole horde of potatoes."

"Potatoes?" Serra giggled. "Shouldn't you be more ambitious?"

"I like potatoes." Wallace said, defending his choice of words. "I may try tomatoes after the first season, but potatoes taste good and keep well in the Caelin climate."

"That reminds me…" Eliwood said, looking at the older knight, "How did you end up training Will?"

"I assume you mean after we left Caelin? If you really meant that the way it sounds it's because the kid asked." Wallace answered truthfully.

"Yes, that is what I meant. I've heard tales of your strict regimes." Eliwood said.

"I would like to know how you manage to tone him so well." Serra said. The two looked at her oddly. She blushed and said "Hey, he's single right now. I'm single to. Am I not allowed to see the hotness you've imbued?"

Wallace let out a loud laugh once more. "Fine then, I'll tell you. It was two days after we left Caelin…"

Will had just finished changing into his full Lorcan outfit. Wallace had himself a small chuckle at how prideful he was in his new clothes, but Lucius simply smiled happily at Will's wonder. His old outfit had been tattered to the point of uselessness, and Will quickly realized he would have to get rid of it at last. It had held him through his escape, his near death on the plains and the entire journey with Lyn, but it had run its course. "I know where I'd like to head first."

"Where to then laddie?" Wallace asked.

"The Kutolah." Will answered.

"Why there, may I ask?" Lucius requested.

"To see if they'll make an extra pair of these." Will said, tugging at his new clothes. "The Sacaen tribes are more likely to know how, and I'm not about to ask Lyn to spend another number of months just for a back-up."

"A decent plan." Lucius said. "There will be plenty of time to train you on the way."

"Speaking of which…" Wallace grinned evilly. "Let's break in those new duds of yours, shall we?"

Will suddenly got a very deep sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

Two hours later Will was flat on the ground. After being forced to run for fifteen minutes straight (He had been surprised he had managed to keep running the entire time) he had felt like he was about to die. "Interesting…" Wallace said. "Some slight asthmatic tendencies, likely due to weak heart and lungs. Best treatment for that is more training. Now get curling!"

Curlers (Or crunches) were worse than the running. After a mere five Will's stomach felt like he was about to burst, and he was still tired from the running as well. Wallace refused to let him rest for longer than five seconds, whacking his lance close to Will's ear every time he rested for too long. By the time Will reached twenty-five, he was figuratively dead.

Then came the Push-ups. These were the same as the Curlers in how awful they were. The first ten went fine (to Wallace's slight surprise and delight) but when he reached fifteen he had gone from steady to a crawl. Wallace kept on him once more, refusing to let him rest until he reached the full thirty.

Will was quickly understanding why Kent and Sain had given him such a look of pity when he told them Wallace was willing to train him. This was absolute madness. After those three main sets Wallace proceeded to force Will to stretch. Will seemed rather flexible for a man (Wallace commented that women were almost always more flexible so it wasn't fair to compare the two genders) but Wallace still found ways to torture him. He was bent over each leg in turn while reaching for his foot, which was agony.

"Your core is especially weak, Laddie." Wallace lamented. "That's the hardest part to get in good shape. But I keep my promises."

The stretching moved to his upper body, and once again he proved rather flexible. Will felt nervous when he neck made a cracking sound the first time he rolled it, but Wallace helped him adjust and do the exercise properly from then on.

Then came the lunges. His thighs were burning just like the entire rest of his body, and he felt like he was about to throw-up his entire breakfast all over the grass if this continued any longer. At that moment Wallace called for a ten minute break, which ended the first hour.

They started the second hour with squats followed by squat jumps. He was not going to last much longer at this rate. It was then that Wallace told him to sit back down. He tossed a wooden practice sword to Will, who gripped it in confusion.

"Both hands." Wallace instructed. Will complied. "Now, you're going to sit there. You swing your sword all the way to the left, then all the way to the right. You do this fifty times on each side."

Will was now thoroughly convinced this was punishment. Punishment for what exactly he wasn't sure, but punishment all the same. When he finally finished the set, his arms feeling like lumps of steel, Wallace demanded he run another fifteen minutes.

This time Will really did vomit. His entire body felt like it was rejecting him, and even as he vomited he could feel Wallace's looming presence behind him. Even after vomiting he was not allowed to stop, finishing the fifteen minutes.

"What have we learned?" Wallace asked, eyebrows raised.

"That there's… a reason… you're called… the trainer from hell." Will gasped.

"No. Moderation." Wallace said.

"Moderation? You nearly smacked me every time I let up!"

"You pushed yourself too hard at the end. You didn't notice I was leaving you more room to go at an easy jog for the finish. I'm pushing and reforming your limits, not trying to get you to malnourish yourself." Wallace smiled.

"coulda fooled… me." Will gasped.

"Eat something." Wallace said. "You'll need energy for the day ahead."

"So, what do you think?" Lucius asked curiously as Will tried desperately to force himself to eat. The workout had worn him to the point he didn't even feel like eating, but he understood why Wallace wanted him to.

"Kid needs a lot of work." Wallace said. "He's slow for an assassin, weak for a fighter, out of shape for a traveler… but he can get there. At the very least, he didn't complain until the workout was done."

"I see." Lucius said. "For the moment, I'll refrain from my teachings. I think he needs a bit of a break."

"We'll also need to cover ground if we plan to reach the Kutolah." Wallace said. "You think three weeks is a good enough buffer?"

"I think so. Plenty of time for training." Lucius said.

Will bit into the jerky roughly, feeling a shiver go down his spine.

"That rough?" Eliwood asked. "I've had training with Marcus before, but it's never seemed as rough as you made it sound against Will."

"Laddie has a talent for tactics." Wallace said. "He doesn't have a talent for battle itself. You've also seen his nature at work. Killing has never been a big badge of honor for him."

"Right." Eliwood said. "I'm just surprised you were that rough on him. That was for a full year?"

"No." Wallace said. "That was the beginner's course."

"You mean it got worse?" Serra gasped.

"As he improved physically, I had to continue to test his limits, make him push himself." Wallace said. "If he got complacent with his abilities, he wouldn't have gotten half as far as he did in a year, even with my training."

"One year." Serra said. "To think, you improved him that much… Can I send some patients who need some serious overhaul to you next time?"

Wallace laughed. "I doubt your patients come to get mashed into a pulp before being rebuilt."

"Well, true." Serra said, playing with her pigtails. "But they could sure use it. I mean whoo."

"Isn't it weird to talk to guys about other guys?" Eliwood asked.

"Not really." Serra said. "Wallace, Marcus and Oswin are too old for me. Rebecca's being all mysterious right now, so I can't talk to her. Matthew would run away from me, and I don't really know anything about Lowen. Lord Hector always ignores me. You're not really my type, Lord Eliwood, but you seem like the kind of guy who listens to a lady even when she's talking nonsense."

Eliwood wasn't entirely sure what to make of that comment and Wallace's laughter didn't help matters. Was he supposed to be flattered? Insulted? Somehow, he felt like he would never know the answer.

Rebecca winced, clutching her pulling hand as she let her bow clatter to the ground. Her hand was pulsing angrily from having fired so many shots that day, but it still hadn't been enough. She hadn't been able to help anywhere near enough. Her fears of killing were also causing issues, even if Will was kind enough not to talk about it. She felt like she was embarrassing her village and Lord Eliwood with her service, so she had resolved to practice.

Currently she was a little ways away from camp, using the trees to block the camp from view. This would hopefully prevent anyone from spying on her while she trained. The last thing she wanted right now was someone telling her to stop. She was glad she had an armguard, as the later she practiced the more times the string would whack off the guard. If she hadn't worn it, her inner arm would be rubbed red and possibly worse. She glanced at the targets she had set up. She had set up several targets at varying heights, and using a single quiver she tried to hit them all.

Unfortunately, she had failed. She had hit two targets dead on, which was at least a start. The third hit had barely made it onto the target. She would have considered that a shoulder shot before experiencing combat, but she knew now that it would be a miss instead. As she walked over to collect the arrows, she knew she would have to stop. Her arms were beginning to shake, and her aim would only get worse if she continued. She couldn't afford to be useless in the case there was a battle tomorrow.

"I suppose… even though I don't want to… I should ask for help." Rebecca grimaced. "If Will knows Wil… maybe Will knows some good tricks? Or at least a way to practice on moving targets?"

Rebecca sighed, knowing the answer wasn't going to come to her easily. She finished gathering her arrows, placing them back in her quiver. She took down the targets, knowing she needed to return them to the camp. She brought them back first, before returning for her bow. If she was going to find her brother, she needed to be stronger.

"What are you going to do with that mine and torch?" Lowen asked.

Will shrugged. "I'll keep the torch in case we run into deep fog or need to go underground, obviously. The mine, however… I don't even know how you ended up with that."

"To be honest," Lowen replied sheepishly, "I'm not entirely sure either."

"It may be useful if we get stuck somewhere." Will said. "I'll just have to store it extra carefully."

Hector sighed, kneading his brow with his hand as he read and reread the letter. Lord Helman's last request had been to get this box to his grandson, and Hector had meant it when he promised the dying man. However, having read the letter several times now, he could only come to the same conclusion every time. It was a conclusion he hadn't even thought possible. "This is…"

Hector wanted to crumple the letter, but he knew that would be the wrong thing to do. How was he going to break the news to them? If he did, would they even believe him? Would they think he was playing some cruel joke as payback? Eliwood wouldn't, he never did, but…

"Argh, I can't think when I'm tired!" Hector berated himself. "If I can't figure it out now, I'll just figure it out in the morning!" With that, he folded the letter and placed it back inside the box. Then he lay down on his bed, closing his eyes as his head hit the pillow. To Hector's credit, he fell asleep almost instantly. The morning would hopefully bring the answers he sought.