Ch 5:

Games

They reached Araphen after about a day and a half of travel. It wasn't hard to get into the town; the gates were wide open, inviting all to enter and see the canton's heart. Two guards lounged at their posts, making sure no-one who was obviously a bandit got in. They looked the travelers over with a bored eye and, seeing only a small group accompanied by a Lycian knight, waved them through the gates in a moment. Wil vanished into an armory, after taking money from Sain, and came out bearing an fresh supply of arrows.

Sain stopped them in front of the castle entrance and led them to a grassy lawn where they could wait out of the way. "We must wait for Kent," he explained. "Someone has undoubtedly told the marquess that we have arrived. Now, we should wait to be summoned." Dev shrugged and sat down on the grass. Lyn sat down beside her. She was fidgety, shifting her weight, her limbs, her eyes all over the place.

"Lyn?" Dev asked. Lyn looked up, startled, and laughed weakly.

"Ah. I'm-- ah. Sorry." Dev continued to look at her. "I'm just nervous. That's all. I've never met a noble before."

Dev sat back. "I see. Don't worry. Even if he's a complete jerk, nobles tend to step softly around each other, especially in Lycia, where they're all equal. If he knows that you're the marquess Caelin's granddaughter, then he'll most likely be civil. Hey, who knows. He might even be nice."

Lyn shook her head and sat back, leaning on her hands. "How did one so young become so cynical?"

Dev laughed. "I wasn't being cynical. I was being realistic."

"All cynics say that."

"Oh? And you've known so many, I suppose?"

"Mmm. You're still doing it."

"Lyn!"

Lyn's mouth quirked up in a smile. "What?"

"Stop calling me a cynic!"

"Stop being one." Dev threw her hands up in the air.

"Aagh. I give up. Fine! I'm a cynic. Happy?"

Lyn looked at her friend in shock, clearly very hurt. "Dev! How could you think I'd be happy if you're so upset?" Dev felt bad about that, she hadn't meant to insult Lyn.

"That's so cynical." The hurt look was gone. So was Dev's bad feeling.

"LYYYYYN!"

...

Sain moved Star over as his lady and liege bolted by him, laughing madly, their tactician hot on her heels with a manic grin on her face. He chuckled. It was a good thing the Lady Lyndis was happy; she'd been quiet and distracted all the way to Araphen. No frown should ever have marred such beauty as she possessed. Dev wasn't usually this excitable, either, although judging by the fact that she'd gone to quite a lot of trouble to get the (admittedly beautiful) Sister Serra to ride with him from the inn, that may have been because of him.

Some people simply found his manner difficult. It was an awful shame that three of the lovely ladies in their camp were among them. He sighed and leaned back against Star. Oh! Well, here was another person who found him difficult.

"Ho! My boon companion!" he called. "How goes the day! Are we to go in?" Kent shook his head, looking worried.

"No, and keep your voice down. You are a knight of Caelin, god preserve us all. Have some dignity."

"Is something wrong, Kent?" he asked, actually keeping his voice down, doing as Kent said. It would never do for the lovely ladies to be worried-- or jump to conclusions.

"The captain of the guard is doing patrols. I couldn't get anyone to tell me anything, but from what I gathered, this is odd." He patted his sword almost imperceptibly. Sain rested his hand on his lance, looking as if he was lounging against the horse.

"You don't think they'd try here? Only a complete knave would do so when we are availing of the Marquess Araphen's hospitality!" Kent shrugged.

"It matters not what I think. Only what happens, and what we must do if it does." Sain shook his head. His partner was so very serious. He leaned back, ready but relaxed, and watched his liege being chased around the castle lawn by her mad tactician. Really, right in front of the palace. What could happen?

"Lyn! Get back here now! Man, when I catch you, I'm gonna-- Lyn! Move, move!" Lyn spun around, looking at her friend, who barreled into her at full speed. Both were knocked to the ground just as a throwing dagger flew above their heads, embedding itself in the dirt at Wil's feet.

"Damn!" Sain swore and leapt onto Star as a swordsman drew his weapon and charged. Hadn't he been a guard? He'd been acting like one, and he was wearing the uniform. Yet what competent attacker would walk up brazenly? This was what Kent had meant, oh damn!

He wasn't going to make it in time; as fast as Star was, the swordsman was too close, and Lyn was too stunned to take her sword out. Dev didn't have her staff, but at least she was ready for his approach.

He urged Star on. What an utter lout he was! A chivalric failure! Why hadn't he been closer?

...

Lyn struggled to her feet, gripping her sword hilt tightly as she shouldered Dev aside to stand in front of her. She drew the Mani Katti in a sweeping arc meant to drive the assassin back as well as clear the blade of the scabbard.

It didn't work. He merely ducked under the blade and dropped his own sword. Steel flashed in his left hand and bright, sharp pain traced itself along Lyn's thigh. She fell to one knee and cried out, trying to alert the others to their plight. The assassin chuckled and raised his weapon to strike again, only to be knocked back the same instant by a well-aimed kick from Dev. Snarling, he backhanded her across the face, sending her sprawling-- he was far bigger than either of them.

He drew his weapon again and Lyn was dimly aware of both Dev and Sain charging and yelling, each nearly close enough to strike the assassin--but not first. He was closer, and Lyn couldn't get up, and she could only wonder why this had to happen, when all she had wanted was to see her grandfather, just once-- No. It would not happen. She shifted her weight onto her good leg and drew back her fist, screaming a Sacaen war cry--

She was not prepared to see the assassin topple over dead, an arrow in his throat. She stared at him for a moment, not quite comprehending that the fight was over until Dev skidded to the grass in front of her.

"Lyn! Lyn! You okay?" There was blood in her friend's mouth, and her words came out clumsily. Lyn nodded, gathered her wits, and put her hand on her friend's shoulder. She got up, relying heavily on Dev for support, and waited for Serra to come tend to her wound. She fixed Lyn up quickly enough as Lyn looked in the direction the arrow had come from.

A tall man, in his early twenties, sat astride a swift-looking, fine-boned sorrel stallion. A short bow rested in his hands, another arrow already nocked as he regarded Lyn silently. The horse, the tack, his clothes, even his bow and arrows were all of Sacaen style, if not exactly as she had known the garb and items of her village.

"Sir! Are you from Sacae? From the plains?" He regarded her a moment longer, then the others, and shook his head, turning his horse back the way they'd come.

"I am sorry," he told her, watching the knights. "I had thought a plainswoman was being attacked. It appears that I was mistaken." He started to leave.

"Wait!" she called, running after him, now that Serra was done with her and had moved on to Dev. Her leg was a little stiff, but it would not hamper her greatly. "I am from Sacae. I am Lyn, of the Lorca."

His eyebrows rose incrementally. "The Lorca? I received news that they were destroyed. I was not aware that there were survivors." Lyn nodded.

"A few, now, scattered to the winds. That is all." He shook his head sadly.

"I am Rath, of the Kutolah. Are these men after you?" She nodded. "And your companions, they give you aid?" She looked back at them, and nodded again.

"Yes. They are my friends, loyal and true."

He did not answer. He was watching Kent. "The knight in red," he said eventually, "came here earlier, asking audience for a Lady Lyndis, of Caelin, daughter of the late Lady Madelyn, and, as such, granddaughter of the current marquess. Are you this person as well?" Lyn stared for a moment, trying to separate her own identity from such a list of titles and associations.

"Yes," she told him. "I am traveling to meet my grandfather. He is the only family I have left." Rath looked her over, then held his hand out to her.

"Then come. We will drive these scum away from the castle, and from you as well. I am the captain of the guard here."

"Thank you, Rath," Lyn replied, taking his hand and shaking it. "A thousand blessings upon you."

"And a thousand curses upon our enemies! Where are they?"

...

Dev flexed her jaw. It felt alright; none of the teeth seemed loose or crooked, anyway. She tried talking.

"Do I sound alright? No slurring, no lisping?" Dorcas nodded, and Sain said something to the tune of her voice being as lovely and melodious as ever. Good. She thanked Serra, then stopped to sniff the air.

Could she smell smoke? She looked over at Erk; he was looking back at her, utterly confused. It wasn't a spell, then, or at least not his spell. She looked behind her, at the castle, just as bells began to ring and shouts began to rise into the air.

Ah. There was the smoke. And she'd been hoping that the assassin had been acting on his own. Oh well. Here they went again. She looked around for her staff and saw it lying on the ground where she'd left it.

She regarded the others; all looked shaken, but ready for battle (except possibly Erk). A stableboy had already responded to Kent's whistle and was bringing a saddled and bridled Fidele to the knight. Sain was already mounted and having a whispered conversation with his partner. Wil had his bow strung; Dorcas's axe was out. Florina gripped her lance with white-knuckled hands, but sat tall and straight on her mare's back. Serra brandished her staff at everything around her in over-eager haste, while Erk flipped through the pages of his Fire tome, whispering words to himself and staring into the middle distance.

They were as ready as they were going to get, then. She ordered Florina to circle above the castle, checking the positions of the enemies, and all the others to keep an eye out for them. They would figure out that their comrade had failed soon enough. Or they already had, and that was why the fire had started. Either way, they had a fight on their hands. While they waited, Lyn came back, the archer who'd saved them following her.

"Your name?"

He eyed her, his expression inscrutable, before replying. "Rath." She nodded.

"Right, Rath. What do you know of what's going on?" He shrugged.

"Not much. We must get inside the castle, though." He pointed to a large, squat building, separate from the rest of the palace. "There is a switch, in there. We must trip it and two others to gain access to the marquess."

"We must destroy these curs, utterly and completely," Kent interjected. "Our first duty is to the Lady Lyndis, not the Marquess Araphen." Rath looked at Kent, his expression revealing surprise. Recovering quickly, he nodded.

"I understand. The castle guard, however, will rally to him. Expect no aid but for mine." Kent donned his helm in response.

Dev noticed something glint in an alcove. "Where are these other two switches?" Rath pointed to another building, on the other side of the castle entirely, and then explained that the other one was inside. They would not be able to trip it until the other two had been tripped. "Well, then, go trip the switch. We'll be safer inside the castle anyway. Erk, Dorcas, go with him." They jogged after the horseman, Erk clutching his book, Dorcas gripping his axe.

She checked the alcove again, this time seeing a flash of red and the glint of sandy hair. It disappeared quickly. Wonderful, she thought. Now I know he's there, and he knows I know, and I know he knows I know. If he's worth his salt, he knows I know he knows I know. And, frankly, I just don't feel like playing that game right now.

"If you don't come out now, I will sic the archer and both the knights on you. So let us see your pretty face before they puncture it." After a moment's hesitation, a sandy-haired young man in simple, well-made green and brown, covered by a red cloak, appeared from the shadows. A long knife was sheathed at his belt. Lyn jumped backwards and both the knights placed their hands on their weapons. Wil nocked an arrow on the string and kept it trained on the stranger's chest.

"Whoa!" he called. "Easy on the puncturing. I've got a girlfriend back home." Oh god. Please, please don't let him be another Sain. "Name's Matthew. I couldn't help overhearing your little predicament."

"What predicament?" Lyn asked, clearly suspicious. She hadn't put her sword away yet.

He grinned, walking slowly toward them, hands up and far away from his belt knife, eyes watching Wil's bow. "The one where you need to get into the castle before the fire spreads too far, but the other switch you need to trip is way on the other side of the building, and only one person has the keys, so you're stuck waiting until your scout comes back to tell you where all the bad guys are that you need to kill. That predicament." Lyn blinked.

"Well, Dev, do you think this sneak has anything going for him?" Dev watched him very carefully. He was very observant, anyway. More observant than an assassin, unless an especially clever one had been sent. Then again, it would be very interesting if a Caelin assassin had blanched at the sight of, and kept glancing nervously toward, an Ostian cleric. Especially as that cleric hadn't said a single word yet. Very interesting indeed.

For the moment, however, it seemed prudent to ignore such things. "Perhaps. Knowing our problem hasn't gotten us out of it."

He shrugged. "There I can help you."

"You have keys to the castle?"

He bowed, smiling charmingly. "I have keys to every castle, lady..."

Thief. Useful, certainly, but is he trustworthy? "No lady. Just Dev. This is Lyn. Why do you want to help us?" He pointed at the corpse.

"Your side looks like more fun than his." Dev shook her head-- that was a very bad reason. If he expected her to believe it, he was dumber than she thought. "Of course, I expect payment..."

Lyn narrowed her eyes. "How much?"

"Say... two hundred gold? Will that do? I'm only opening a door, after all." She nodded and handed the money over.

"I'm off!" he yelled. "Oh, and could somebody follow me? I'm not a big, strapping fellow like yon knights..." Dev shook her head and signaled Wil and Sain as Florina spiraled down. As she did so, she caught the thief's eye. He met her gaze with a wise, appraising grin before he turned away.

I know he knows. He knows I know.

I hate these games.

...

Matthew stuck his head around the corner, checking the entrance of the building containing the switch. Two mercenaries stood there, each carrying a sharp sword and looking around with keen eyes. Their enemy was someone who knew Araphen well, then-- he doubted those switches were public knowledge. He tapped the knight on the leg and pointed the soldiers out. The man rode toward them with a suspicious glance at Matthew.

"Huh," he murmured to himself. "Well, I'm not particularly popular, am I?" He tried to remember if he'd ever seen the green knight before, even though he'd never worked in Caelin. After a moment's pondering, he failed to dredge up either a memory of his face or his name and decided it wasn't that. Just because no-body ever remembered him didn't mean he forgot them. He glanced back at the archer. Jeez. Matthew was getting a cold look from him too. Were these people that self-righteous, that they had to look at a thief this way?

The knight waved him over, watching him the whole way there. He didn't let go of his lance. The archer hadn't unnocked his arrow, either. It finally occurred to Matthew when he saw that-- they thought he was an assassin. Well, he wasn't, and maybe before the end of the day he'd convince them of that. Maybe a daring dive to save the Lady Lyndis's life... She certainly had her mother's looks. Not that he'd ever met the Lady Madelyn, but he'd seen the portraits. He'd made sure that he'd seen the portraits.

He produced his lockpicks from his sleeve and set to work on the lock. A burning sensation in his fingers announced a spell set on the mechanism; a quickly-sketched symbol and a whispered word were enough to dispel it. He grinned, satisfied. This was a custom spell, and well-cast, but it had to be unlockable by one with no magical skill whatsoever. And no matter how strong a defense was, the right bit of information could always bring it down. That was his specialty. Finding it, recognizing it, remembering it, and having it to hand when it became useful. He doubted any of these clods would figure that out, mighty fighters though they were. The mechanism clicked and he peered through the keyhole, before whispering, "Two, one swordsman, one mage," to the knight. He opened the door and let them through, slipping past the fighters to trip the switch.

"Alright!" he called when he felt it fall into place. "Come on, back to the others!" The knight impaled the swordsman with enough force to pierce the armor on his back, and tugged his lance free, letting the limp corpse drop with a wet thud. Matthew grimaced. That was so bloody messy. He followed the fighters outside and jogged around the side of the castle. The others had already tripped the first switch and entered the castle.

The Lady Lyndis was fighting off an enormous knight with her blade, aided by the axeman. Her knight and the Araphen captain were acting as rear guard, while a pegasus knight kept soldiers away from a red-robed mage, kneeling on the ground. Serra was next to him (why in the names of all the gods that had ever existed did she have to be there?) healing the mage's arm, while the green-cloaked girl said something to him in low tones.

Matthew's mouth quirked up in an involuntary smile. Alright, alright, he was worried. That one was something else for sure. If she didn't know why he was there just then, she would probably know by the end of the day. He'd never been found out before, but then, he probably hadn't matched wits with someone as smart as that girl seemed before. She'd certainly figured him out fast. What was more, if he was reading her right, now she was figuring out what to do about him. Until the battle ended, though, she was stuck with him-- Lyndis had hired him, after all.

Which meant he had a little bit of time to find something that would keep her quiet. Her bag seemed like a good place to start.

...

Dev watched Erk get up and move his arm around experimentally. "All better?" she asked. He nodded.

"Feels alright..." He swallowed and doubled over, choking off his words. Dev placed a hand on his chest and forced him upright.

"Stop that," she told him. "That's what got you injured in the first place. Do you think you could keep it in until after the battle at all?" He opened his mouth as if to speak, then snapped it shut abruptly and swallowed hard. Dev sighed. It didn't seem as if he was going to get any better very soon; his skin had a decidedly green tinge to it. She looked at him again. His build was very slight. Even for a mage, he was slim.

"Erk?"

"Hmm?"

"How old are you, exactly?" He swallowed again before he managed to answer.

"F-- ah-- Fourteen. Why?" Dev groaned. She'd known he was young, but fourteen? What sort of idiot had sent a fourteen year old boy on a mission in bandit-infested Bern? He was damn lucky they'd found him, or he might not have made it. She wasn't about to tell him to clear off, but at this point, it was pretty clear that he wasn't going to be of any use in a battle.

He heard the groan. "I'm a perfectly competent mage," he told her, trying to look impressive.

"But you're not a competent soldier," she told him. "There's a difference." He looked at her for another minute, then sagged.

"Yes. I understand. I'm sorry, I--" She waved it off.

"It's alright. Not everyone can be. But that means you kind of have to--"

"Get out of everyone else's way?" She nodded and he bowed to her. She looked around; Sain and Wil were back. Where was Matthew? She didn't like him being where she couldn't watch him. A muffled sound from beside her reminded her of Erk just as she decided to go and search him out. The battle was practically over anyway, she thought, as she pointed him toward Kent and called Wil over to provide cover fire for Florina and Erk's retreat.

After one last check to make sure no-one really needed her around for direction, she slipped off, looking for the thief.

...

The Lady Lyndis's horse was in a stable at the gate, with the horses of the guardsmen. A huge blue roan, he stamped his feet angrily as Matthew approached the bags strapped to his saddle. Matthew, however, was not one to be chased away so easily. He had already targeted one of the bags, made of well-stitched, but worn, leather. It was not of Sacaen make, but Bernese, and it was military-issue, too. That was bizarre, but boded well for him. The odder a person's history, the more likely they had secrets. He produced a carrot from his pocket.

"Good horsey. Nice horsey. I don't think that's your mistress's bag, now, is it? No it's not, it's that Ilian girl's. Why don't you just let me have it? It's none of your concern anyways." All the time he was sidling towards it, holding the carrot out. Once he was close enough, he unhooked the bag and dropped the carrot on the floor, backing away from the horse very carefully. This proved difficult: it was now blocking the stall exit and rolling its eyes at him. He held his hands up and climbed onto the water trough, hiding in the hay loft. This, too, was partitioned, to keep visitors from giving their mounts too much hay. Ah well. The stupid horse would get distracted soon enough.

Rifling through the bag proved more boring than anything else. Spare clothes and some scraps of cloth for patching (which the bag showed extensive evidence of) were in the main pocket of the bag, while the others contained a sewing kit, vulneraries, soap, dried meat, bread, brushes for hair and teeth, a few gold... The standard traveler's kit. Who cared. Among the odder items were a Bernese soldier's crest, cracked down the centre, and a tuft of pegasus feathers. Neither particularly interested him. The crest had a name, Gretha, engraved on it (which indeed might have been hers), but it also had a date of birth impressed in the metal, and of death, engraved on the rim. Discounting the fact that she was obviously alive, no way was she thirty-four years old. Pegasus feathers... well, they most likely bloody knew she was Ilian, so he couldn't hang that over her head.

He was about to give up when he felt a tiny button through the cloth. He grinned. A secret compartment! They were probably standard in these bags, for confidential missives and such, but it was a very good bet on where incriminating papers would be hidden. He opened it with a deft touch, and pulled out a paper-- the only one in there.

His shoulders sagged almost immediately. A letter from her big brother. From eight bloody years ago. Still, it might have been coded (although a codemaster who would write that much like a twelve-year-old was a rarity), so he skimmed through it anyway. It didn't fit any codes that he knew.

One of his eyebrows quirked up halfway through-- this boy was addressing a 'Fiara'. Hadn't her name been Dev? Hmmm. Fiara. That rang a bell, somewhere deep down. He'd heard that name somewhere before, in the course of his work. Or had he been talking to an older colleague on leisure? Ah well. He kept reading, more attentive now.

Nothing else seemed particularly interesting. He was telling her she was a nut for wanting him to back out of a trip he was taking soon (well, had taken nearly a decade ago.) He went on and on about the honor of the Ilian knights and how pegasus knights weren't the only important troops in the country and other patriotic twaddle. One interesting word in the entire bloody letter and he couldn't even remember why it was important--

Signed , Sarano ven Velkhir, this third day of the month of the Wyvern, 971.

Matthew blinked. Velkhir. So that would mean the letter was addressed to Fiara ap Velkhir.

He let a low whistle escape his lips and winced-- what had possessed him to make a noise? He listened out for any other sounds around him. A low murmur reached his ears, along with a rustle of hay. He strained his ears to their limit and made out words.

"--chase him up there? Clever boy, Thunder. Clever, clever boy. And I thought you didn't like me." A low nicker came after this and Matthew sighed slumping back down. He had definitely never matched wits with someone as smart as this girl before. He rolled the letter up and shouldered the bag, steeling himself. Foolishness now was not to his benefit.

The most impressive tactical prodigy Ilia had ever produced was waiting for him in that stall, and he was about to engage her in a match of wits. Oh joy.

...

Dev leaned up against Thunder's flank and waited. She'd known there was something wrong with him. Well, now she had a letter in her pocket, signed and sealed by the Marquess Ostia, no less, that said he was a spy. It had been a clever hiding place-- a secret compartment on the underside of the saddle most people would have assumed he didn't have. Some guards would tell you anything for twenty gold, though, including where a visitor they hadn't had had stabled a horse that he didn't own, as well as which tack wasn't his.

On the other hand her bag was missing, and noises were coming from the hay loft. It was probably thanks to Thunder's intervention that he was up there at all, and not just long gone. She'd thought that horse hated her. Now he was sniffing her cloak for titbits, serenity emanating from every line of his body. Apparently he'd decided that if Lyn liked her, he did too. She gave him a sprig of mint from their traveling packs. She didn't much like the taste of mint anyway.

Her bag began to descend from the loft, hanging from the strap, until it touched the ground with a gentle thump. Matthew's head poked out of the hole a moment later. He saw her, disappeared again, and dropped from the loft feet-first. He held up a scrap of paper.

"All cards on the table?" he asked. "It would make things go so much more smoothly." She smiled and produced the letter she'd found.

"You want to know what I know? You are an Ostian spy, paid by the marquess to keep an eye on Lyn and the succession of the Caelin throne. Am I right?" He shrugged.

"Yeah, more or less. I get expenses and a monthly pension after I retire, though, not actual pay. You," he said, "are Fiara ap Velkhir, former apprentice tactician to the Ilian High Court. You, for all our information, were set to become one of the finest tacticians in Ilia. But you disappeared nearly eight years ago and have never been seen on your native soil since. Am I right?" She quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Almost exactly eight years ago. Other than that, yes." He'd missed the debacle in Bern, but what he had was enough--and impressively accurate, apart from that 'finest' nonsense. "So. Which of us holds the higher bet?" He twirled the paper he held between his fingers.

"I'd say I do. After all, I report to a higher authority-- you seem to be running from it."

She shook her head. "Ah, but who can you tell that will know what you're talking about, or care? Trust me, none of those people are anywhere near here. On the other hand, if I tell Lyn you're spying on her, you are in for a very nasty encounter with her or the two knights. Right?"

He scratched his chin. "Perhaps. I can always run home to Ostia, and they won't be able to touch me."

She grinned. "And I can always just run. I've gotten very good at escaping notice." What a brilliant bluff, if she did say so herself. As transparent as a mountain stream. They thought she was dead, for all she knew; she hadn't been 'escaping' anything. Besides, what did they really care about her?

It seemed to have worked, though, for all its simplicity. He considered her argument as he pocketed her letter. "Well, then, I'd say we have brought each other to a stalemate." He grinned. "Until circumstances change."

"I suppose." She pocketed the letter. "And, of course, if they ask where we were--"

"We were playing a game. And it was ever so entertaining. May I get out now?" She nodded and prodded Thunder out of the way. He stepped aside with a snort and she led Matthew out, closing the stall door behind them. "I assume that if I call you anything other than Dev, all bets are off?"

"Yes. And keep your nimble fingers to yourself in the future. I assume you are determined to come with us?"

"Of course. I am on duty, you see. I can't just abandon a job because some annoying prodigy found me out." He grinned at her. "Oh, and since we're stuck with each other, why not be civil? We don't have to hate each other."

She gave him a look she knew was odd. "Diplomacy? From a spy?"

"Where better to get it?" She rolled her eyes and shook her head.

"Sorry. Find someone else to be friends with. I don't like political games." He skipped in front of her.

"Those aren't the only kind I play, though. I'm quite the companionable conversationalist." He fell into step on the other side of her and leaned in close. "Or, of course, I could act as quite the efficient scout."

Dev eyed him suspiciously, expecting a trick. "I thought you were the Marquess Ostia's vassal? What would Lord Uther say if he heard about this? And what about taking sides?" Matthew flapped a hand at her and laughed.

"He wouldn't care, as long as I do my job for him well. Besides, I was practically ordered to take a side: I have to report to Lord Uther on the most well-advised course of action should things in Caelin come to a head. And frankly," he continued, "considering the recent rumors of the Marquess Caelin's ill health..."

"Sudden?" Dev asked. "Serious?"

Matthew nodded sagely. "Indeed. You have no idea how refreshing it is not to have to explain these things, incidentally. Oh, don't snort. Be glad you're not as naive as the young master, that you can discern these levels of meaning. Anyway, keeping these recent events in mind, it is my opinion that the Lord Lundgren is altogether too ambitious for the good of Ostia and Lycia in general." Dev considered his argument and nodded. It seemed sound enough, and he was definitely an Ostian agent. All his argument hinged on was his loyalty to Ostia. There was no definite way to test that, however. Well, chances were there to be taken and not endlessly considered.

"Okay. Scouting? How do I know how good you are? If we needed information about something, how would you get it?" He shrugged.

"How'd you find my horse? The right question, in the right ear, with a shiny piece of gold to refresh a memory, or a mug of ale to lubricate a throat. Simple games, simply won."

"Okay, smartass, why are we in Araphen, then?" He ticked off his reasons on his fingers.

"Common sense says to stock up on supplies and keep yourselves and your weapons ready for anything that may happen, and that's what a lot of people would assume. My own information says that it's to ask the Marquess here for aid on your little trip, and that's what I believe. Under normal circumstances, I would say you had a good chance, too." In response to Dev's questioning look,he continued. "The Marquess here hates Sacaeans, thinks they're scum underfoot. Then again, he was very enamored indeed of the Lady Madelyn before she eloped, so he would be tempted, I'd say, to turn a blind eye to her Sacae blood and see her as Madelyn's daughter, and that alone." His piece said, he eyed the column of smoke coming from the castle and asked, "So what do you think of your chances?" She snorted. After this fiasco?

"A rabbit in a fox's mouth has better prospects than we do." Matthew nodded, sauntering along with his hands in his pockets.

"Yeah, I'm thinking that too."

...

The reached the castle gates just as Lyn came storming out of them. Dev stopped short; she was in a real temper.

"Dev! Come on! We are leaving this place and its-- marquess!" Dev bit her lip and attempted reason.

"Lyn, come on, we don't have to go now, do we? I mean, well, we still have to get our horses ready, and we need new supplies like vulneraries and such..." Lyn waved a hand in a negating motion.

"We leave now!" Dev watched her tear up the path to the guardhouse and leaned on her staff as Kent trotted up, leading his horse.

"I take it we can expect no aid whatsoever?" Kent shook his head.

"Well, yes, but that's not why she is angry. The Marquess Araphen refused aid on the grounds that she is Sacaen." Dev frowned.

"He called her blood tainted!" Sain was almost as mad as Lyn. "Imagine, the gall to say such a thing!" Kent rounded on his partner.

"And you had to lose your tongue and disgrace not only yourself but your liege!" Sain seemed genuinely taken aback by this. He shifted uneasily from foot to foot and looked down.

Matthew looked from tactician to knights and bowed out. "I'll just go get my horse ready, shall I?" Dev jumped and checked her pocket-- the letter was still there. He was already gone anyway. Kent looked at Dev, his question in his eyes.

"I hired him on for the rest of the trip. I didn't think we'd get any help from the Marquess after this catastrophe." She waved her hand at the castle. Kent winced and nodded.

"As you see fit," he told her, although his voice betrayed his disapproval. "I suppose another sword-arm would be useful." He nodded at Sain. "We should get ready to go as well."

"Yeah," Wil agreed, passing them by. "It doesn't look like she's waiting up." Dev grimaced and ran down the path. Lyn was not leaving Araphen without them.

She caught up outside the gate, on the road. Lyn was trying to get Thunder to gallop down the road without them. Thunder, thankfully, was having none of it. He shied and snorted, but refused to move forward. Dev ran up and grabbed Lyn's leg.

"Lyn! I know you're upset, but we have to wait for the others. They need to get ready." Lyn frowned and looked down.

"Alright. Sorry. I should have waited." She patted Thunder on the neck, then stopped, staring at Dev.

Dev grinned. "What?"

"You're leaning up against Thunder--"

"Yeah. I guess he decided a friend of yours is a friend of his. Right?" Thunder shook his head energetically and Dev laughed. "Right!" She swung herself onto the back of the saddle. "So I'm riding with you from here on out. Okay?" Lyn smiled.

"Of course! If he lets you. I'm surprised he's being so nice."

"Believe me, so am I. You know, we have just about enough horses now to let everyone ride, if Serra will ride with Florina."

Lyn looked behind her. "Now?"

"Matthew has a horse. He's coming." Lyn was getting mad again now.

"You let him come?" Dev stared at Lyn, all innocence.

"What? You hired him. Besides, it'll be good to have another sword-arm." Neither heard the hooves approaching them as they argued.

"You also have my bow." Lyn jumped in the saddle and swung around to face the newcomer. It was Rath. "I would travel with you. Is this acceptable?" Lyn nodded.

"Well, yes, of course, but we are are riding from danger into more danger--"

"Then I am all the more pleased I can offer my assistance. You have my aid, Lyn of the Lorca. And this," he added, pulling a pouch from his belt.

Lyn looked inside it and saw the glint of gold. She gaped-- it was probably more than she'd seen in her entire life. Dev was impressed.

"And this is for us?" she asked. He nodded.

"Rath, this is-- I can't--" Lyn's stuttering was brought to an abrupt halt by Rath's answer.

"I have offered my aid. I cannot now retract it." He rode away, stopping a short distance down the road and watching the horizon.

"What did you do to impress him?" Dev asked.

"I-- I'm not sure. This is almost more than I can accept." Lyn watched Rath, bemusement showing on her face, and fell silent. Dev let the silence fall. Well, now Serra could continue to ride with Sain, if Dorcas could ride with Rath. Florina would scout-- having an aerial scout was unbelievably useful (other types notwithstanding). After a moment, she dismounted and left to tell everyone about their new traveling arrangements.

...

Kent guided Fidele to the side of the road, where Wil stood. "Get up. We're to share a saddle," he told the archer. Wil met Kent's eyes in shock and Kent realized something. "You've never ridden, have you?" Wil shook his head.

"Errr... no. No, I haven't. And that horse looks very, very big, so I'll just--" Kent dismounted and strapped Wil's bow and quiver to the saddle.

"Alright. You'll sit in front, then, so I can stop you from falling off." A shout from across the road alerted him to Sain, watching him. Once he was sure he had Kent's attention, Sain gestured clearly to Lady Lyndis with his head. Kent nodded. He was right. Now was the time for them to apologize for their failures today. Any punishment she meted out would be less than they deserved. He told Wil to stay and get acquainted with Fidele, then joined his partner beside their liege's horse. Sain waited for Kent's lead.

Kent cleared his throat, getting her attention, as well as that of their tactician. He bowed deeply as she turned to him, turning his eyes toward the dirt of the road.

"Kent?" she asked, worry and concern in her voice. "Is something wrong? Has something happened?"

"Yes, milady," he replied. "Something has happened. I--" Sain cleared his throat, "--ah, we, have failed in your service. Had it not been for the intervention of the lady Dev and Rath, you might not be alive now. You, and your grandfather, have entrusted us with the honor of your protection." He did not look up, could not look up. He did not deserve to look at his liege. "We have not lived up to that honor. Forgive us."

The Lady Lyndis said nothing, and Kent prepared himself to stand and leave, without her forgiveness. She was right-- he did not deserve it. Neither of them did.

His thoughts were interrupted by the creak of leather, an the tap of a boot on dirt. He felt the Lady Lyndis's hand on his shoulder. He looked up, hesitant. Her eyes were full of kindness and sorrow.

"Sir Kent. I cannot accept your apology. You have done nothing wrong. You brought us to Araphen in order to find aid for our journey, did you not? To find aid for my journey. You have been injured numerous times on this journey, yes? That was for my sake, and for my grandfather's. You have done everything you possibly could for us."

"It is a knight's duty to serve, milady. All this and more are nothing but that which I owe to you, since the day I took my oaths."

"Then you fulfill your duty admirably and loyally," Lyndis told him. "Continue by my side, and hold your head up high. Do not doubt your worth again." She turned to Sain, who stood bowed at the waist, his hand on his heart. "Everything I say applies to you as well. You both are honorable, good friends and true. I need you here, by my side." She looked up, past Sain's head, and pressed her lips together, as if trying not to laugh. "I think that just at the moment, though, Wil may need you more."

Kent turned around. The poor archer, having ignored Kent's order to simply get to know the horse, had managed to swing his right leg over Fidele's back and was now trying to drag himself into the saddle, his left leg groping for purchase. Fidele did not seem happy with the arrangement at all, and looked as if he would dump Wil on the ground at any moment. Kent bowed to his liege, and raced off to prevent a disaster. His horse was not the most forgiving of its species.

Once Wil was reasonably comfortably seated on the pommel of Fidele's saddle, and unlikely to fall off, Kent hooked his lance and his scabbard to the straps made for them. Sain appeared beside him as he did.

"She is something else, huh?" his partner asked. Kent glared at him and Sain held up his arms in a peace gesture. "I didn't mean it like that! I just suppose I never expected her to be so..." His voice trailed off, as if he couldn't find the right word.

"Considerate?" Kent volunteered. Sain shrugged.

"Yes, that will do, I suppose. Even Lord Hausen would have given us a proper tongue-lashing if that had happened around him, just for starters. Then we'd have been demoted, punished, publicly dishonored, and all the rest. Her-- She's not even mad." He laughed, a smile growing on his face. "She's actually worried about us."

"Yes," Kent replied, pensive and quiet, checking Fidele's girth. He let the strap loosen for a moment. "I'll admit, Sain, when we began this, I had the same opinion as the Marquess Araphen. I thought she would be an uncouth barbarian. But now..."

Sain nodded, his actions subdued for once. "Yeah. I know what you mean, my brave, severe-hearted companion. I'll follow her for the rest of my days, if she permits it." Kent shook his head. Fool. He'd follow anything with long hair and they both knew it.

He let a smile creep onto his face. "As would I, Sain. And not," he added, swinging into the saddle behind Wil, "because she's wearing a skirt, either." He nudged Fidele onward before Sain could object, although his partner's yelling followed him down the road.

"Kent! That was unfair! Hey! Kent!"

...

Yay! Another chapter done! Next chapter will contain more than one game chapter, I think. I don't know. Anyway, notes upcoming... now!

First thing: I've been reading over the earlier chapters recently, and some of the details in them are erroneous or misplaced, according to the revised backstory of the tactician that I slowly made up and changed without really noticing. (This is what happens when you don't plan.) Therefore, I have given them slight revamps, just changing details. The chapters should be up now-- only one and two were changed in any way that's even noticeable. It's hardly groundbreaking. I am also going to spend a day or so figuring out a timeline involving events and ages of characters and such.

I will also, next chapter, begin to characterize with more attention given to story archetypes. I will have to research them first (I know just enough about them to be interested in doing this, but I want to be really sure.), and match these characters to them. When I have, if anyone is interested, I will give them a list of the characters and which archetypes they fit. If enough people are interested, then I'll go ahead and tell you in these notes, or in my profile or ...somewhere. Ah, I dunno.

Also. For the next little while, I will also be busy with the Emblem awards (why did I volunteer to judge? Didn't that film festival teach me the perils of volunteering for things?) and so updates will be slightly more infrequent, especially when you factor in the return to school. Oh well. Here we go again. Stupid green jumper. Horrible green tie.

Sagewolf out. (Before I embarass myself.)

P.S: Thank you to everyone who's read the story so far, and also especially to everyone who's reviewed, fav'ed or alerted it. Hope you're still enjoying it. I am fairly sure that I've replied to everyone's reviews so far, but if I did miss yours out, just say so. I won't do it again! ...These A/N are evilly long too, aren't they? Oops.