"Ramza, wake up," he heard Delita's voice from the bed next to his. He could do little more than give a groan as he rolled over and pulled the covers over his head.
"Ramza, wake up. We need to get an early start if we're going to find the Death Corps in Zeklaus," Delita reminded him of their mission for today. The change in Ramza was immediate. He was up and pulling on his clothes in a matter of seconds. He looked and saw that Delita was all read to go. Algus was not far behind him.
"What time is it?" Ramza asked, yawning as he lazily tromped over to the window and threw open the shutters. Light flooded into the room. It was clear that it was just after dawn. Ramza squinted as the light painfully cut through his vision.
"Close the damned window, Ramza!" Algus threw his hand over his eyes. It was still dark in the room when he woke up.
"The saying says to both rise and shine, Algus. The window stays open. Besides, it will put some light on the subject and keep me from putting my clothes on wrong," he smiled looked down at his shirt which was on backwards. Delita laughed. Algus rolled his eyes.
"What's for breakfast?" Algus asked.
"We bought some bread and cheese from the market last night. Also some apples for the road. Our skins are all filled with fresh water, we need only head out," Delita reported.
"No meat?"
"Not unless you care to buy it with your own money," Ramza replied, "our war funds are thin. Then again, Dycedarg did not give me money to trek a troop through the desert now did he?" Ramza was enjoying the idea of chasing down the Death Corps a little more by the moment. It would be dangerous, yes. They could get killed, yes. It would certainly be more of adventure than guarding the castle.
"Suit yourselves then. I'm going to have the innkeeper cook me ham and eggs," Algus put his quiver around his shoulder and walked downstairs.
"We shouldn't leave him alone down there, Ramza. He'll never pass for a commoner and they don't take kindly to nobles around here," Delita warned.
"Ugh! Fine, we'll wait until his highness has had his ham and eggs, then we'll head out straightaway. Too bad we can't buy Chocobos," Ramza grumbled.
"No kididng. That would make our trip much easier. We'd need twice as much food and three times as much water though," Delita pointed out.
"True. But riding a Chocobo beats the hell out of walking--through a desert no less," Ramza added.
"I'm not disagreeing with you. But, we don't have the means for that. Let's go watch Algus finish his breakfast. They checked the room over to make sure that they had left no other belongings.
"Where are the others?" Ramza asked.
"They arose at dawn, have eaten breakfast and are probably already at the meeting point," Delita replied.
"Good. One less thing to worry about."
They waited patiently as Algus verbally abused the waitress, as she brought him his food. First, his eggs were not cooked enough, then they were cooked too long. Then, the waitress, although she was quite attractive, suddenly became an 'stupid sow.' Ramza shook his head. They were sitting so that he could not see them.
"It's horrible the way he treats people," Ramza looked over at Delita.
"Not people...just commoners. We're pigs remember?" Delita's voice had a bite and tinge of bitterness it it.
"I don't think that, Delita!" Ramza replied defensively.
"I can say this in no other way but to say it how it is: not all nobles are like you, Ramza. Most of them are like Algus, treating us like animals."
"My brothers are not like that. They are friendly with you," Ramza pointed out.
"For your sake," he argued, "believe me when I say that they look at me with contempt. They know that I am a commoner but the stay themselves for your sake. If not for you, I would not be seen around Igros, nor would I be in the military academy."
"I'm sorry that you feel that way, friend," Ramza gripped his friend's shoulder affectionately.
"You're more like your father," Delita pointed out. Ramza beamed. There was nothing in the world that he like to hear more than that he resembled Balbanes Beoulve. The man was honorable and just in every way. A true patron of the people, so to speak. He always taught Ramza to live with integrity and to treat others as he wanted to be treated. Nothing could compliment him more.
"Thank you, Delita."
Algus had finished his meal, had got up and noticed that Delita and Ramza were sitting across the tavern waiting for him to finish. First he looked confused, but as he walked their way he became indignant.
"You could have joined me," he said pointedly.
"We were just here in case you got into any trouble," Delita smirked. Ramza shot him a look of warning and decided that this was not the conversation he wished to have to start his day.
"Come on, friends. We have a long road ahead of us if we're gonna save the marquis," Ramza bit his tongue and looked around. He had said that so nonchalontly and a little bit too loud. The last thing they needed was for the Death Corps to overhear that they knew where the marquis was and that they planned to save him.
"Ramza, are you mad?" Delita whispered, grabbing him by the arm and leading him out of the inn. "You're lucky no one heard us."
"I thought that secrecy was part of what we were doing," Algus added smugly.
"I'm sorry, I spoke for I thought. No matter. We're off now, to Zeklaus. Let's hurry."
Walking through the desert was nearly unbearable. Ramza made an inward decision to never return again unless absolutely necessary. They decided to move at as grueling a pace as possible, to save time. It was best to fight in daylight, even in the deseret. The desertmen excelled in combat at night and would hide under the sand, emerging like snakes from a den to strike without warning. Not Ramza's idea of a good time.
"It's so hot," Algus complained fruitlessly for about the fifteenth time.
"Complaining about it won't make it any cooler," Delita grumbled. They were all in a bad mood. It was so arrid and barren and dead. Ramza tried to put himself in Elmdor's shoes right now, if he was still alive, that is. He was, most likely. The Death Corps had demanded a ransom for his life, uncharacteristic of them to say the least. Either way, the marquis would be alone, frightened, possibly dying of thirst. All the time he would be wondering if his next day would be his last and if anyone would come to his rescue. This spurred Ramza on to want to save him all the more.
"We're here," Delita interrupted Ramza's train of thought. When one walks in the desert they become a kind of mindless zombie, mechanically putting one foot in front of the other trying to think only of the destination, and of water.
Ramza looked. It was an oasis and in the middle where ruins of an old temple. No doubt a very good hideout for the Death Corps. He could not imagine too many mercenaries chasing them down across Zeklaus. The thought made Ramza's stomach churn.
"How will we approach unnoticed?" Ramza pondered out loud.
"They won't expect us. That swordsman could not have made it across this desert as fast as we did, not unless he was mounted on Chocobo," Delita assured.
"What makes you think that he wasn't?" Algus looked alarmed.
"I doubt he could afford one. Only the highest ranking officers in Death Corps have Chocobos, he was a lowly swordsman in league with Gustav, nothing more," Delita defended his point. It sounded valid enough.
"Let us waste no time, arm yourselves and press on. The enemy's lair is dead ahead," Ramza ordered the rest of the troop. They inched forward through the oasis and towards the temple. The roof was gone, only walls and windows remained. There were a few buildings surrounding it that were still mostly intact, which was probably where the marquis was. Delita read his mind and spoke before Ramza could say anything.
"The marquis is probably in one of those buildings," he pointed.
"Most assuredly. We could try to sneak into it and rescue him unnoticed," Ramza offered.
"Doubtful. He'll be guarded heavily. We'll do best to draw them out, no?" Delita asked. He had a point. Getting cornered was not exactly satisfactory combat terms. Either way, they pushed foward.
"Split," Ramza ordered, "Delita and I will approace from the south entrance, Algus, take the troop and round those trees to approach the west entrance," Ramza ordered.
"With pleasure," replied Algus, the gleeful smile of battle already crossing his face. They were close now, so close they could hear voices.
"Then you've heard?" they heard a man say, "About the Hokuten? They mean to strike us for true."
"Aye, I've heard. So...what's to become of us?" asked another.
"I say we forget this business and run. There's naught for it," replied the first.
"Agreed. If we follow Wiegraf, he will lead us only to our graves," said yet another.
"Aye, that much is plain. Gods be good, Gustav's ransom of the marquis will fatten our purses enough that we can quit this life for good and all," concluded the first.
"The Hokuten! They're here!" exclaimed a voice coming from the west entrance. Algus had been discovered. And so, the battle began.
"Surrender the marquis or surrender your lives!" Ramza yelled. Their fighters emerged from the entrance, six of them. At least in this fight they would be evenly matched, Ramza thought hopefully.
"Be mindful, these men are used to fighting in the desert," Delita warned. Ramza did not reply verbally but took the wisdom in.
Two of the men the Death Corps brought out to fight had no weapons and no armor. To one unlearned in the ways of fighting they would have charged these fighters head-on expecting to make an easy go of them. Ramza knew better. Zalbag had told him once of desertmen and how they used their bodies and a strange power they called 'chi' to fight with. They were not to be underestimated.
"In my experience, they are much easier to beat from a range, then to fight them head on. With no armor they are more agile and harder to hit," he had said.
Algus must have figured this as well because he fired and arrow at one of them, missing him my mere inches. Delita was fighting both swordsmen at once. The Death Corps archer was firing away at them. He was not like the unskilled fighter they had faced in Dorter. He was deadly and precise. Ramza watched as an arrow hit the chemist who had saved his life earlier.
He was still a long way away from him so he snatched a fist-sized rock from the sand and charged forward. Out of the corner of his eye he could see the fists and feet of the desert men flying wildly as they teamed up to assault Algus. Algus kept a sword at his belt and flailed it in an arc to keep them at bay. The enemy archer caught sight of Ramza and trained his sights on him.
It was now or never, Ramza thought. He stopped and hurled the stone as hard as he could towards the archer. To his satisfaction, the stone hit the archer above the left eye. He released his arrow which landed uselessly in the sand. Ramza charged again and instead of swing his sword he just rushed the archer with all of his might, knocking him on the temple stone.
As he approached he felt his feet come out from underneath him. The archer had foot-swept him. The archer, now armed with a small dagger leapt onto Ramza and tried to stab him. Ramza abandoned his sword and used his arms to guard the blow. He winced in pain as the blade glanced off of his arm. He felt warm blood dribble down his forearm and he guarded the attack.
The man was strong, a lot stronger than Ramza had expected at least. They were pretty evenly match and there was no doubt that his enemy had the upper hand.
"Noble scum!" he wretched and heaved as he tried to force the blade down. Ramza slipped his foot up so that he could put a wedge between him and his attacker. He heaved the man from on top of him with all his might. He was up on his feet in a flash. A glimmer of steel sparkled in the sunlight and he dove for his sword. Rolling to his feet he turned to face the archer, who looked ready to run.
In a flash the rest of the troop was on the archer, including the chemist who had taken an arrow to the shoulder. With a battle cry the archer leapt for Ramza but Algus put and arrow in his back and he fell onto Ramza's blade.
"These sand rats are long in the laying. It is well no others have found us while we tarried here," Ramza said as they looked at the aftermath of the battle. Delita, with the help of the troop squire had slain both swordsmen and the desertmen looked like pin cushions. Ramza put his foot on the body of the archer and pulled out his sword.
"The marquis is bound to be around here somewhere," Ramza spat the sand out of his mouth, "let's go find him."
In a building not far away, Wiegraf stood, sword drawn facing Gustav. The marquis de Limberry was unconscious on the floor tied up. The tension was so taut the very atmosphere radiated with anticipation for a fight.
"You've taken leave of your senses, Gustav," Wiegraf said, staring his subordinate officer down.
"Have I? What hope does your fool revolution hold? Dreams do not fill a man's stomach or make soft the packed earth on which he beds!" Gustav shot back. Gustav looked very much like Wiegraf, they could have been brothers. Both kept their blonde hair short and parted in the middle, both were tall, strong men with broad shoulders. Even their voices were both deep and booming. They had long been friends but Weigraf could not see his revolution demeaned by the likes of kidappers and murderers. Unfortunately, desperation had made Gustav just that. He caused an insurrection that had split the Death Corps asunder.
From the sounds of the clashing steel outside the door, the Hokuten had nearly killed what was left of Gustav's following. In a few moments, Gustav would join them in being made an example of what betrayal and insurrection costs.
"You see naugt beyond the end of your own nose. The Crown strays, Gustav. It must be led back onto the path," Wiegraf replied cooly.
"And you think yourself the man to do this? More the fool you are, Wiegraf," Gustav was set on dying today, Wiegraf decided.
"You have spoken you fill? Then we are done," Wiegraf concluded with a note of finality. Gustav charged at him, swinging his sword in a broad downward arc. Wiegraf was quick, even in his armor and strafed to the left ducking his head under the blow. He spun and plunged his sword into soft flesh, all the way through Gustav.
"Aug...ghh..." Gustav dropped his sword and stood their, bug-eyed and pale. In one swift motion, Wiegraf slid the blade out of his body. The blood errupted from his chest and he fell to the ground, spasmed a little and died. The moment he hit the floor the door burst open and a young handsome man with a blond ponytail stood at the entrance.
"Wiegraf!" he bellowed. Another young man, scrawny, with short blonde hair and with a sour expression looked across the room to see the marquis on the floor not moving.
"The marquis!" his face looked like he could not quite believe it. There was another young man with them, this one looked like a commoner. His hair was dark, he was tanned and looked like he had seen the most sorrow of the three. They were young, sixteen at best, cadets, no doubt, from the Hokuten.
Why would someone send cadets to rescue someone as important as the marquis de Limberry? Wiegraf wondered. The second young man advanced to go to the marquis's aid. Wiegraf was outnumbered and he had to play it smart. He pointed his sword at the marquis and took a step towards him, facing the three young men.
"No further!" he warned.
"How dare you threaten me!" the scrawny young man replied.
"Stay yourself, Algus," warned the dark-haired young man.
"The marquis is unharmed. You are free to return him to Igros," Wiegraf assured them.
"Why release him?" the young man with the ponytail asked curiously.
"The marquis's abduction was ill done. Such craven methods do not serve our ends. Let me walk free, and I will release the marquis to your care. A fair bargain," Wiegraf offered, all the while he kept his blade trained at the marquis, waiting to strike if necessary.
"You mock us! You are in no position to bargain! You are outnumbered three-to-one!" the one called Algus shot back. Wiegraf hoped that he would not have fight in this stone hut. There was not much more to the room. They must have used this room to hold the slaves before the sacrificed them, Wiegraf thought. He knew that three-on-one were not good odds, but he also knew that they were here to save the marquis. If he threatened to kill him, they would listen and probably let him go.
"Enough, Algus! He speaks the truth," the dark-haired young man pleaded. Suddenly the marquis stirred.
"Ahh...unh..." he tried to force out a few words. Wiegraf advanced along the wall and motion for the young men to do the same away from him. As soon as he was at a safe distance he bolted out the door and into the desert sun. Around the building a Chocobo was waiting for him to take his flight. There was not much time. He needed to get to Fovoham and fast.
"Let him go, Algus!" Delita stood in the way to keep Algus from running out the door to pursue Wiegraf.
"Why do you stay me?" he asked, puzzled and indignant. Delita sighed.
"The Death Corps is finished in any case. There is naught to be gained by a quarrel here," Delita rebuttled assuringly. If ugly faces could kill a man, the face that Algus gave Delita for standing in his way would have surely caused him to burst into flames.
"The marquis is well. He is weak but he would seem unharmed," Ramza observed from across the room. He had knelt beside the marquis. Algus turned on his heels, maintaining his bitter looked and walked over to see for himself.
"We must see him back to Igros," Delita stated the obvious. He was in no condition to travel alone, that much was for sure. They had a long trip ahead of them, at least four days travel back to Igros. They had to go through Dorter, Sweegy Woods, Gariland, cross the Mandalia Plains before they finally arrived at Igros.