A long trek through the camps of the legions and across the plains of battle eventually brought the Elrics into Madrigal. As Bernard led them through the city, the brothers saw destruction and suffering everywhere.
The fact that the city still stood at all seemed miraculous. Most of it lay in ruins, with many buildings either singed by flame or crumbled in heaps of rubble. Passage down the debris strewn streets proved difficult. Occasionally, a squad of troops would come hurrying along the way, shouting for water to put out fires or carrying the wounded to infirmaries.
"Where are all the townsfolk?" Al asked as he surveyed the desolation, despairing grief in his voice.
"Many fled north to Tandem after Shiver crushed the southern army three weeks ago," Bernard kept his eyes straight ahead as he answered, no longer moved by sights he too often saw in his lifetime "A handful stayed. Of that number, almost all are surely dead. The garrison here lost over two thirds of its strength. Most of the men still alive are badly wounded."
The brothers felt engulfed by the loss around them. They saw smoking ash, smelled drying blood, heard the cries of the dying carried on the winds that sorrowfully whispered over the rooftops. The siege of Madrigal was won. But the victory preserved only a little of a once bustling city.
"We're here lads."
The Elrics looked up at the first fully intact structure of the day. The imposing edifice rose from a hill, granting it a commanding view of the entire city. A crenellated wall made of humongous rocks enclosed a small space at the crest of the hill, and within stood broad stone building capped by high tower. Ed craned his neck to see a weathered but proud orange pennant fluttering from the tower's flagpole.
"The Keep Armadur. Madrigal's stronghold," pride flowed into Bernard's voice, "Legends say that a Trow expedition put up these walls millennia ago. Now it serves a last bastion for the town. On the second night of the siege, the Fallen broke through the outer walls. Rabican fell back here and regrouped, finally pushing Shiver out of the city by the fourth day. After he did that, the commanders began to dream that we could take Shiver by surprise. By the time the order came down from the rest of the Nine, a lot of the men felt ready to take a crack at Shiver's army. Of course, no one dreamed we could achieve so great a success."
"How great was the victory?" Al asked.
"I'd hesitate to call it a victory. I can scarcely believe Shiver's dead. And our forces could not complete the pursuit of her troops. The scouts say that some of the shades in her service still walk, and they are rallying their remaining forces in the wilderness between here and Comfort. I expect there's several more days fighting ahead.
But the enemy has certainly lost the better part of their host. And without a Fallen Lord to lead them, I doubt they'll attempt another offensive. We have the edge. If we can surround them, cut them off, I daresay we can claim a total victory.
Now I have a great deal to attend to back in camp. The two of you better get inside."
Bernard motioned to the stone steps leading up to the Armadur's massive wooden gate. The doors hung open, each almost a yard in width. A pair of warriors stood on guard in the threshold.
"Alright then, we won't keep you," Ed trudged off for the stairs. He did not so much as glance at Bernard.
"Thanks. Maybe we'll see you later," Al gave a friendly nod to Bernard before following his brother.
Bernard watched as the Elrics climbed into the fortress. He wondered at the sight for a moment, curious about the intent of the Nine and about the true nature of the strange brothers. Then he turned on his heel, and started back through the ruins. He began a long, solemn trek back to camp.
0000000000000000000
After a few minutes wait, a soldier led Ed and Al deep into the Keep Armadur. They climbed a narrow spiral staircase and wound through a couple dark hallways before their guide brought them to a door guarded by two men. Both men dressed in a style similar to Truan, and also carried formidable broadswords.
"Highlander, are the generals waiting?" the guide spoke to one of the guards, who nodded in response.
The guide knocked the door.
"Enter!" a voice bellowed from within.
"I can go no further," the guide stepped to the side and ushered the Elrics forward.
The door shut behind the brothers as they entered the chamber.
Though it lay at the heart of the fortress, the chamber was well lit. Torches and candles lined the walls. A decent fire blazed in the hearth at the middle of the room, and smoke rose out through a skylight.
The room contained three long tables arranged around the hearth, along with numerous chairs. Large maps, thick books, stacks of parchment, yellowish quills, and military figurines cluttered the table surfaces. The Elrics also noticed a few abandoned goblets and plates of food. On one table they saw a crystal ball and several small stones carved with runes. Discarded parchments and bones from past meals covered the floor. A pair of dogs gnawed at the larger scraps.
Four figures sat at the furthest table, on the opposite side of the hearth. The figure to the middle raised a hand and motioned the Elrics forward.
"Come."
Ed took the first step, listening as his brother clanked along behind. He carefully took in the features of the men before him.
The figure who spoke looked of middle age. He possessed a mature, noble face with a clean shave. His countenance seemed molded more by character and experience than by just the passage of years. His dark brown eyes at first glance suggested a sense of gentleness and warmth, but behind that initial impression Ed sensed a carefully hidden power and deep determination. The man hid his hair beneath a leather cowl, which rose into a tall point bending slightly backwards. He wore leather armor underneath a long robe of matching color, and sat perfectly upright in a splendidly carved wooden throne. In Ed's estimation, the man seemed a consummate leader, perhaps even a king.
The leader was flanked by two others. To his left, a severe looking ancient leaned on a gnarled staff. This man appeared about average in height and as wizened as a raisin, though he too possessed no hint of a beard. His hooked nose sat squarely between a pair of deeply set gray eyes with a gaze as sharp as any blade. He covered his bald head with a dark metal skull cap that almost pinched his temples. The ancient man wore a heavy blue robe decorated with golden suns. Ed supposed the ancient one an advisor of sorts, someone with considerable insight and wisdom.
To the right of the leader, another man squatted on a stool. This man appeared quite tall and broad in the shoulders, though slight in overall build. Ed could tell little about this man's face, which was concealed with a mask. The mask was a masterpiece of craftsmanship; a smooth male face cast in silver, ornately carved with symbols that Ed almost mistook for transmutation circles. On closer inspection, he realized the symbols bore a closer resemblance to the strange tattoos on Truan's body. The masked man wore a sky blue cloak edged with silver upon his shoulders, and kept the hood over his brow. Bandages scribbled with runes covered his entire body, including his hands. On the table before him lay a beautiful long-sword, carved in symbols similar to those upon the mask. That a man marked by little muscle and countless injuries could wield such a weapon puzzled Ed. He could not guess at the role of the enigmatic masked man.
Behind and to the right of the leader, a fourth man leaned against the throne. Ed quickly realized this man could easily wear Al's armor. The man clothed his huge, strapping frame in only a wolf-skin cape and loincloth, plus a pair of sharply studded wrist-guards. A string of animal teeth hung prominently from his neck. The huge man covered his head with a heavy metal helm which hid even his eyes. From his belt hung a thick broadsword he could comfortably wield with one hand. The formidable weapon would look like only a large kitchen knife in his immense fist. The man's obvious martial prowess impressed Ed immediately, and reminded him of his friend Major Armstrong, the immensely proportioned Iron-fist Alchemist.
The four men studied the brothers for a moment. Then the ancient one spoke in creaky voice.
"Edward and Alphonse Elric, welcome. We know of your deeds and thank you for your service. Many men owe their lives to you. We hear that you matched one of our best fighters in combat. And, most impressive, you each have a little magic in you."
"Only you displayed your abilities, so you wonder how we know about your brother?" the masked man anticipated Ed's concern, speaking in a younger but rasping voice that sounded obscured by something, perhaps more bandages, "We four possess senses and powers beyond the reckoning of mere mortals. We know you are more than just boys."
"Show us," insisted the huge man, his voice clearly the deep bellow that earlier beckoned brothers into the chamber.
Al stooped and hesitantly removed his helmet, revealing the empty dark space within the metal shell housing his soul. Ed rolled back his sleeves and pants to reveal his prosthetic limbs.
"Fascinating," the leader spoke this time, his voice both warm and yet imposing, just like his eyes, "a spirit bound to an inanimate object, capable of motion and speech like any man. And arms and legs crafted out of metal. How did you do it?"
"You don't want to know," Al gravely responded.
The leader waved his hand in approval. As Al replaced his helmet and Ed smoothed his clothes, the leader addressed both brothers.
"You each have nothing to fear from us. We hold many questions for you, but I am certain you hold questions of your own. Let me begin by answering some of yours."
He rose from his throne. While leader was not as tall as the huge man or the masked man, he carried himself in a way that inspired respect.
"I am Alric. King of the Province. Leader of the Nine Avatara, the only wizards still left on the side of light. I assumed my throne in the midst of the conflict with the Fallen. In my time as king I've known only war, never peace. My order and I wage an eternal struggle with Balor and his minions, hoping to safeguard the people until we can one day drive darkness from the realm."
He gestured to the men about his throne.
"These here are some of my councilors and generals, members of the Nine."
"I am Cathbad," croaked the ancient one, "Advisor to King Alric and librarian. My place is usually behind the lines, my boys, but do not doubt the power of my magic."
The deep set gray eyes flickered at the last statement.
"I am Kael," the masked man spoke in a low voice, barely above a whisper, "Chief druid to the ancient highland gods. Although it has been a month since I last rode into battle, my claymore has drunk many blood offerings to the gods in times past."
He caressed the long-sword with his tightly bandaged hand.
"And I…," the huge man paused a moment as he straightened from leaning on the throne, "…am Rabican, general of the Northern Army."
"As you may already know, last night Rabican led our forces upon the plains of Madgrial and swept back the Fallen, vanquishing Shiver the Voiceless One in single combat. The rest of our order is away" Alric added, "Campaigning or pursuing missions in distant places. Yet we remain in regular contact."
A pair of owls fluttered down from the skylight and perched upon Cathbad's shoulder. He caressed each before removing small rolls of parchment from their talons.
"Thank you," he breathed into the ears of the birds before sending them back up through the skylight. He unfurled the parchments and read silently for a few moments.
As Cathbad processed the reports, Rabican moved to a map of the Province on the nearby table and began shifting miniatures around, updating the latest troop positions.
"Very good tidings here, listen. Maeldun's reassembled the 21st legion and combined the remnants of the 3rd and 17th. He's secured Shoal and is preparing to reoccupy Bagrada!"
"Excellent!" Alric thumped his fist upon the table, "If we can retake the other passes over the Cloudspine, we can stop up the enemy's reinforcements. And with Shiver gone, we can concentrate on isolating the Watcher."
"Unfortunately, our scouts haven't reported anything on the Watcher. It seems the Mad Goat has slipped away once again."
Alric stroked his beard and joined Rabican. Cathbad bent over a journal and began scribbling notes. Kael slowly rose and moved across the room, his bandages restricting him to a shuffle. He hunched over the rune stones and began muttering unintelligibly.
For a time the men seemed to forget the Elric brothers. The boys puzzled over the scene until Cathbad looked up from his writing.
"Sorry boys, but we've been eagerly awaiting word from the field. These things take precedence."
Alric and Rabican went on placing miniatures about the map, attempting to devise an effective strategy. Each plan they tried seemed inadequate after further examination, which led to whispering and then rearrangements.
Kael continued to mutter strange words as he ran his hands over the runes in slow, deliberate motions. Ed could only assume that the druid was entering a trance in order to consult a deity for guidance. He almost snorted at the thought.
Ed acknowledged that he could never truly know god. Sometimes he even doubted the existence god, never certain whether the laws he accepted as an alchemist stemmed from some intelligent design or just a coincidence of nature. But if it did exist, god was at best indifferent and at worst cruel. He shuddered at the memory of the thing that greeted him so many years ago at the entrance to the Gate, grinning while it tortured him and his brother. It did not care that the boys made their mistake out of grief and ignorance. It took account of neither the sorrow the boys felt at the loss of their mother, nor the enormous burden of the curse it placed upon them. If god could not empathize, why should people ever worship?
"The gods do not speak. The signs…I see only chaos," Kael sighed with lament.
Rabican slammed his fist onto his table, crushing a miniature army in the act. No stratagem seemed to work in their favor.
Alric paced away from the table, hands folded in thought. His brow furrowed as he came to a grim realization.
"We cannot prevail without guidance once again. Bring … it."
Rabican swept out through the door to the chamber. A few moments later he returned with two armored warriors bearing a small but apparently heavy chest. Made of thick dark oak, reinforced with iron and several hefty locks, the chest looked impregnable. The warriors heaved the chest onto the table, and proceeded to undo the locks with keys kept on their person. At the final lock, Alric stepped forward and muttered an incantation. Suddenly, the lid sprang open.
The Elrics watched as Alric reached into the chest, and could barely contain their astonishment as the wizard pulled out the contents.
A severed head.
The thing looked well preserved, with no scars or decay of any kind upon its olive skin. Alric grasped the head by its long black hair, which fell in thick curls from the brow. It had a handsome face, and with its eyes closed almost appeared asleep.
Until the eyes shot open. And it spoke.
"Greetings Alric. Such a pleasure to see you again."
The young alchemists quivered in horror.
"Time certainly has flown since we last met," the thing spoke smoothly, in an unsettlingly haughty tone. Its mouth hissed a little as it spoke, for the air rushed out quickly through its dismembered throat.
"Indeed. Your counsel proved most useful to us. You have our thanks," Alric raised the head to eye level and nodded in gratitude. He gave respectful homage, yet his voice contained a hint of revulsion.
"It is done, then?"
"Rabican saw to it. He followed your instructions precisely."
"Excellent," the head gave a smug grin, "You did me a service by slaying Shiver, as she is called in these times. It is I who am in your debt. How may I assist you now?"
"Our forces pushed back the remnants of Shiver's army the past night. They are far from defeated, but significantly diminished. I cannot hold confidence in our victory until…"
"You think the Watcher will pounce upon you from the wilderness? No need to fear him now, the Mad Goat is indifferent to Shiver. He'd only aid her if Balor ordered him directly.
No, the Watcher is searching for something now."
"What does he seek?"
"My intuition tells me, and you may never doubt my intuition, that he's looking for an ancient tome of power. A great treasure. The Total Codex."
That book again, Ed thought, Why is it so important?
"I know of the Total Codex," replied Alric, "Do you say the Watcher seeks it here? Apparently Balor was much less than thorough when he razed Muirthemne."
"Balor wields power you cannot know Alric, but his sight is limited. And with so many mindless slaves as minions, it's almost certain that a few stones go unturned."
"And I suppose your sight can tell us where to search for the Total Codex?"
"Alas, I cannot discern its location. But you have many other means by which to find it, I am sure."
The head's eyes flicked about the room, and its gaze fell upon the Elrics. They steeled themselves and met it with stern determination.
"Fresh recruits to your little order, Alric? You've gone from the Nine to the Eleven?"
"For someone without a neck, you sure enjoy sticking your head in other people's business," Ed snapped.
The head leered down at him. The hissing became more pronounced, like a snake rising to attack.
"I would watch your comments about other peoples' appearances, whelp. You and your brother barely have one body between the two of you."
What is this thing? Ed could barely contain his disgust. The head unnerved him. He felt Al's gauntlet touch his shoulder reassuringly; better to not offend the strange creature a second time. Alric did not seem to like the head, but he respected it on some level.
"The Elric Brothers," Alric introduced them, "Newly arrived yes, and while not yet members of the order, they are indeed capable youth."
"All well and good Alric," the head resumed its smug tone, "You need every man you can get now. Were it not for me, your army would have its back to the sea. I suggest you continue to heed my counsel and begin searching for the Codex. Do not call on me again until you find it, there are things I must attend to now."
With that, the head shut its eyes and said no more. Alric lowered it into the chest. He nodded for the guards to replace the locks and carry the container away. Then he turned to the Elrics.
"The Head. A weird and twisted ally indeed, but the knowledge it possesses saves the lives of my men time and time again. It knows many secrets of the Fallen Lords."
"What makes you think you can trust that thing?" Ed grimaced.
"Its intelligence never fails us," Cathbad answered, "We found the head before Shiver and the Watcher arrived in the Province. Our order had sent several reconnaisance units over the Cloudspine several months ago. We wanted to see what the enemy were up to, and if we might recover anything of value from the ruins of Muirthemne.
Truan of the Hundred Battles, I believe you've met him already, got word that Soulblighter's forces were scouring the ruins in search of a lost artifact. After some careful tracking and one can only imagine how much swordplay, he recovered the Head from the ruins."
"But what is it? Didn't it used to have a body?" Al inquired, more respectfully than his brother.
"We don't know anything beyond what the Head has told us; that it once was an advisor to Connacht and an enemy of Balor. Regardless, the Head has helped us win a great victory. And despite the fact that we keep it under lock and key, rumors spread through the camps faster than you can imagine. Many of the men know about it, they feel a profound sense of gratitude towards it. Some feel that they owe the Head their lives."
"The men follow anything that gives them hope," Kael added, "We've failed them, the gods have failed them, they've failed themselves. But the Head has brought a change to everything. Strange and unnatural it may be, but heeding its counsel helps our cause."
Cathbad and Rabican nodded in assent. Alric merely stroked his chin in thought.
"We must be certain of that counsel though. Rabican, summon Truan and gather the fastest runners and riders. We must blanket the Province with our scouts and locate the Watcher.
Kael, Cathbad, scour through what books we have left. Go back through the chronicle of the destruction of Muirthemne, and the records left by legionary officers who survived the flight westward. Look for any references about artifacts of power, anything that might have been swept into the Province with the tide of refugees. Inquiring with the chiefs of the Journeymen may prove useful as well."
Alric thoughtfully looked over Ed and Al.
"You two may yet prove useful. You possess magic beyond your years. You saved a troop of my men. My guess is you may be able to do it again. The men already welcome you, and we need any source of morale we can muster."
Alric picked up a quill, continuing to speak as he scribbled something onto a dispatch.
"Edward, Alphonse, these are your first orders. I am reassigning you to Captain Bernard. He may not like it, but he can work with you. Train you. Teach you. Your first lessons will occur as you assist the 13th legion with clearing the woods of Shiver's remaining forces. Stay focused, follow the Captain's orders."
He stamped the paper shut with wax. He handed it to the brothers, his eyes smoldering with a deeply hidden power.
"Good hunting."