A Black and White Cross

Chapter 8

Emotions

Leone lifted her head from the binoculars slowly. She had been sitting in the same position for a little over an hour, listening in on the conversation. She still had a terrible hangover, her head was pounding and she simply felt like crap. Her hair felt more wild than usual as she ran her hand through it. She squinted her eyes against the headache, but all she could see was the fire and flames of that day. It had taken her more than a year to suppress the nightmares, but the day they had found that boy on that godforsaken hilltop the nightmares had come back with a vengeance. The only reason she had slept at all the night before was that she had consumed a full barrel of mead. She could still see it if she closed her eyes for a few moments…

"Damn it." Mine said as she looked through her Heads-Up-Display scope. Akame, Leone, and Sheele surrounded her on the mountainside overlooking the small village. It was dark out, and Mine was the only one with night vision capability.

"Hmmm? What is it?" Sheele asked, distant as usual.

"They beat us here." Mine said simply.

"What? How the hell did a mere mercenary regiment get here before us?" Leone asked in frustration. It had taken the Imperial Arms users nearly four days to travel the massive distance from the Capital to the outer Province of the Lioness, and every day away from the Capital was another day away from her usual bar haunt.

"They only had to move a few miles from Leona, while we had to move a few hundred." Akame said flatly. A growl rose in Leone's throat but something stopped her. Her senses, as well as her strength and reflexes, were boosted significantly by the belt Lionelle, and so she usually saw things before her comrades.

"Look." She said. The others turned their attention to the village below them, but it took a few moments to catch what Leone's sharp eyes and ears had observed. A small flicker of light in the darkened windows of the village, a faint scream carried on the wind.

"So it begins." Akame said dramatically before dropping off the cliff face.

"Show off." Leone said before jumping off in a summer sault. Sheele simply sighed at something no one else could see and fell off herself, going

"Weeeeeeeeeeeeeee…" in a high pitched voice. Mine snorted derisively before setting up pumpkin to fire on the mercenaries in the village.

The wind rushing past Leone's face gave her a rush and caused her to let out a feline howl as she transformed. This was actually Leone's first real combat mission since joining Night Raid, so she was really excited, despite her frustration at being dragged away from the plentiful supplies of alcohol in the Capital. She hit the ground with a shockwave that cratered the rough highland soil around her. She threw her head back in another howl as she rushed into the village.

"Sis! Sis, wake up!" Leone startled awake. The first thing she noticed was a massive headache that hit her like a mallet. She closed her eyes and moaned as someone pushed a cup into her hand. She drained the contents without thinking, it could have been quicksilver for all she cared. Some bread-like substance was pushed into her hand and she consumed it just as quickly, not bothering to taste it.

"You ok now Sis?" someone asked. She opened her eyes to find Tatsumi kneeling in front of her with a worried expression. "It looked like you were having a nightmare, so I woke you up"

"What?! I fell asleep?" She said, jumping up, causing Tatsumi to fall on his rear.

"Don't worry, they've just been having breakfast, just small talk." Tatsumi said, now from his back. The tension drained from her shoulders and they slumped a little.

"Good, good. You… you go find yourself something to eat, ok? I'll keep an eye here." She said, her face a little more drawn than what the hangover explained. Tatsumi looked at her worriedly again, she was trying to keep something form him, but he couldn't understand what or why. What he did understand was that she was his friend, and he would respect her wishes. He gave her that famous smile.

"Ok, I'll be back in a bit." He said. She gave him a small smile back as he walked out of the storeroom in order to sneak out of the wall. Leone turned back to the binoculars and earphones.

Esdese sat quietly at the table as she sipped her tea. She had showered herself and changed into her uniform, but she didn't have the great general bearing she usually carried about her. Her attitude was closer to that of a philosopher, contemplative and sad. The odyssey of her lover was shaping up to be remarkably similar to her own, only unlike her own, he had had nothing to latch onto. When her village was destroyed she had gathered her defenses and buried her scars in her philosophy of 'Survival of the Fittest' that her clan had passed down for generations. Alba had not had that. He had, instead, simply gone forward from the loss of everything he had known.

The young boy in question sat across the small round table in their bedroom. He had been silent for most of the meal and had eaten slowly. His eyes were distant and every once in a while a solitary tear would appear in his eye before being blinked away. His age hit her then. For the time they had known each other he had been very logical and mature, but right now, he really was nothing more than an adolescent. A boy on the cusp of being a man, and forced over the edge prematurely in order to survive. He sighed and put down his coffee mug.

"Very well." He said as he got up and moved back to his chair. She got up and stood behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"You don't have to go on, I-"

"No, you asked who I was, and I have yet to answer your question." He reached up and squeezed her hand, giving her a sad but determined smile. She smiled back before returning to her position on the couch.

The town that Colonel Asshole had dumped us in, Al'Rabbask, was a major pilgrimage sight for the Rasugas, and so was a high strategic priority for them. We arrived late in the afternoon, and despite the chill of a winter wind, the sun was blazing hot. Many of the men were dead tired from a forced march through the desert and the Captain nearly had to whip them to establish a half-decent camp outside the low mud walls of the village. There were no trees in the desert to build a palisade and the ground was dry and sun baked and so it was nearly impossible to dig a ditch/wall in, eventually we simply stopped trying and set out a few sentries around the perimeter of the camp. In the end, I don't think it would have mattered if we had dug in or not. Sometime in the night I got up to use the latrine we had set up behind some bushes. It was dark and I was half asleep, but it was too quiet. I didn't hear the sound of snoring men, or of the night watch from the town, only a few meters away. Like the Captain had taught us, I had left my tent in full gear, just like I slept. I had the hand-and-a-half broadsword I had bought back in Leone, along with a long combat knife, a bow, and some arrows, and a steel heater shield with a rampant griffin, the symbol of the company. I didn't really think about it at the time, but looking back that lack of stimulus had put me on edge, triggered something that made my reflexes faster, my muscles stronger.

Eventually I finished my business and started to slowly make my way back to camp. About half way there, everything just erupted. Men started screaming and weapons started clattering, but I had heard those sounds before in the drills the Captain would run on use every so often. What I hadn't heard before was the screeching war howl of the Cats, and it put the fear of god in me. I had never been so afraid, not when my village was razed, not when I was attacked by footpads, not even when the mercenaries had searched my home while I was in the cellar. I am ashamed to say that I jumped in a natural depression and nearly pissed myself. The dark brown leather armor preferred by the Griffins blended in perfectly with the shadows cast over the depression from several now-burning tents. I gripped my bow tight and sat there, listening to my friends, my family, getting slaughtered. From a logical perspective, I wouldn't have made a difference. One thirteen year old would have been nothing but mincemeat in the melee, but that's not the way it felt. I felt, and still feel, like everyone was dying because I was laying in that ditch. Because I wasn't there to help.

After a few minutes the screams of men and the howls of cats began to subside and I looked out over the embankment. I couldn't see anything, but I could smell blood and charred flesh on the wind. I was about to throw up when I saw a number of Cats leaving the camp. My fear seemed to drain out of me along with every other emotion at the sight of the small group. They were all armored in an expensive and high quality chain mail that I didn't recognize, seeming to be made of silver more than steel. Their distinctive thin curved sabers were covered in scarlet blood, many of them were chortling the strange laugh of their people.

I lifted my bow. I really had no idea what I was doing, I didn't really have any idea on anything at the time, my experiences in fantasy and my training with the Griffins took over completely. Back in Aachen, I had quite a bit of time hunting the deer and wild goats that inhabited the mountains around the village, and had grown proficient in the use of the bow. I levelled it off horizontally, crouching in the ditch, and notched an arrow. They were only about twenty five or thirty meters away, so it wasn't a particularly hard shot, but the chainmail was an unknown quantity, so I could only hit their unprotected faces. I pulled the bowstring back and let go.

I had aimed at the one in the front of the group with the gaudiest decoration on his armor. The arrow flew true and entered the cat's right eye, sinking a good six inches into his skull. The other six or seven cats standing behind him snarled and brought their sabers up in a guard stance. I fired another arrow, but the quick reflexes of the cats' allowed them to swipe it out of the air with their thin swords. I growled and drew my sword, mounting my heater shield on my left forearm.

I ran out of the depression, screaming at the top of my lungs, my sword and shield raised. At the time, I thought they hesitated because they were surprised or scared, looking back, they probably were just befuddled as to why a human cub was running at them screaming. That hesitation caught at least one of them, I thrust my sword in the gap between his chainmail skirt and shirt and got up under the ribs and into the chest cavity, a perfect killing stroke. I pulled out and whirled around to encounter one of his friends bringing there saber down to chop my head like a melon, but I brought my shield up and it bounced off to one side. I swung my own sword up in a diagonal arc from bottom right to top left, but it left no damage to the strangely resilient mail. I did lay a long scratch across his muzzle and one eye before turning to face the next as he howled in pain. The next one came in more cautiously behind his tall tear-drop shaped shield and the others began imitating him, boxing me in with a half-circle of armored warriors. I started to back up until by back was against a burning tent, the light casting the cats' faces in shadow.

I began to taunt them in as brave a voice as I could muster, although it probably sounded more pitiful than courageous. The one I had wounded earlier was on the far right of the circle, and I decided that he was my best bet to get out. In the middle of a sentence I dashed off to the right, surprising them again. The one I had wounded lowered his shield in order to bring his saber down with full force, but he mistimed the blow. I came in under his guard, my shield raised and with as much force as my little body could muster. I hit him just below the waist and knocked him off balance. I used my forward momentum to continue forward and I planted a foot on his shoulder, pinning him down, as I brought my sword u to his throat. Right before I rammed it home, a voice rang out across the battle. It was a word in the flowing language of the Rasugas, and so I didn't understand its exact meaning, but it had the ring of command about it and the entire skirmish fell silent and still. The voice said something else and I heard the rasping of steel behind me. I felt a slight breath of air on the back of my neck as the saber that had been mere centimeters from severing it was sheathed.

I kept frozen, my sword hovering a hands breadth away from the throat of the cat beneath me. After a few moments a pair of worn of worn boots appeared in the upper of my vision and a languid, flowing voice filled my ears. It asked what my name was, I told him, it asked me where I was from, and I told him that too. Then it asked me who my father was, which I thought was a peculiar question. I told him that I didn't know and he said that that was a shame, that I had brought much honor to my lineage. He said that my swift and merciless ambush had even restored the honor of my pride after its defeat. It took me a few moments to parse his words, but then the red fog of battle lifted from my senses and I saw what was around me. Among the burning tents and spire were...

Alba choked as tears sprung to his eyes once more. Esdese made a sad little face as she came back to the present. Despite the ditch scenario, she felt like a little girl again, listening to the danger beast hunters tell stories of their exploits around the feasting table. But the problem was that Alba felt like a little boy again: afraid, alone, despairing. Everything was taken from him again, his new family slaughtered to a man, and in his own mind at least, it was all his fault. After a few moments the tears seemed to retreat somewhat.

"Sorry." He managed to say.

"No, no it's ok. You lost your family, your home, again. I've seen lone survivors of units break and cry or just simply break, never speaking again, the fact that you are where you are is a testament to your strength." She said, a comforting look on her face. He gave her a smile back, but it was a lonely, forlorn smile, and through it Esdese saw a dark abyss created from years of pain and hopelessness, and it was her job to fill it.

Alright, I got a detention for this chapter, so you better like it.

I know, the back story is long, I got it, but Alba's a pretty complex dude

Is the Leone/Tatsumi side story ok?

Still want reviews!