Chapter Seven: Dynast Princesses, bartered rings and spiteful pirates

Balthier was fairly sure that he had intimated as to his opinion of the Dalmascan crown city of Rabanastre more than once before in times past, but he now found himself reminded of exactly why he disliked the city so much.

Having precious little to do but blithely ignore the murderous looks of a supposedly deceased Princess and swelter in the arid heat, Balthier decided to list the reasons he loathed Rabanastre.

Firstly it was always hot, dry and smelled faintly of Chocobo dung, though why that was he didn't wish to hazard a guess.

Secondly Balthier was of the opinion one could always judge the nature of a country by the quality of the people born to it. On those merits Balthier was almost of the opinion the Empire should have razed the city to the ground for the good of all Ivalice.

Thirdly, Rabanastre had some of the worst architecture he had ever seen, the Cathedral with its completely pointless spherical appendages being a prime example.

Also whoever had laid the first stone in Rabanastre had no sense of how to build a city. Streets wound about and double-backed upon themselves until one ended up walking in circles and going nowhere, even with a map.

Fourthly……

' Balthier?'

Fran was watching him, her expression clearly indicating that she could at least guess at what he was thinking and found his ire amusing.

Reluctantly giving up his list game he forced his attention back to the group of peculiar oddities he was, seemingly inextricably, tied to.

' Yes Fran?'

Even as he replied to his partner, letting her know through the tone of his voice that he was, oh so glad, that he could bring her amusement, Balthier noticed the Princess glaring at him still.

' It was unfair of you to take the ring.'

Fran murmured as they walked a little ways from the Princess and towards a group of Bangaa huddled around an open cooking fire.

' It was fair recompense for that farce onboard Shiva, not to mention her deception regarding treasure in Raithwall's tomb.'

' It was not the only price you could have levied, this one cuts to the heart.'

Balthier shrugged, ' If our dear Princess is not willing to make sacrifices then I fear for the people of Rabanastre should she ascend to the throne.'

Fran simply shook her head, ' It is not so much to lead the Princess to the Garif.'

' And what of the Shiva? You were hurt.'

Fran cocked her head to the side and scrutinised him, Balthier could see the flicker of gratitude heavily veiled in the depths of her reddish eyes.

' So you would take the Princess' husband's ring in vengeance for something not of her doing or design?'

Balthier sighed conceding defeat, ' I have every intention of giving it back, Fran. You know this.'

The tiniest flicker of a smile touched her eyes and her lips, ' I know.'

Satisfied that he had learnt his lesson Fran moved off, Vaan and Penelo were returning from whatever it was they had needed to do to make ready for the journey. It was time to get going.

The travelling through the puddles and boggy ground of the Giza Plains during the Rains was slow going. It was a relief to take his Vega back from Penelo and fight from the back of the group.

Rain did not bother him over much, Archadia had its fair share of various forms of precipitation, though not to this volume admittedly. Boredom was a much more feared affliction.

There was some brief respite from the drudgery when Vaan was almost crushed under the leaping weight of a Gigantoad, other than that it was slow, arduous work to make it to the Garif village of Jahara.

When it became apparent that the High-Chief was to be no use at all to Ashe, or it appeared, anyone at all, Balthier found himself oddly unsurprised to discover little Lord Larsa Ferrinas Solidor lurking in the village eyes alight with political intrigue and frankly un-Archadian idealism.

When Basch was finally moved to question the altruism of himself and Fran in providing yet more aid to his over-bearing princess's increasingly futile quest, Balthier was resigned to the long haul.

His assertion that he was simply remaining to find out how the story ends, was more or less true, as much as anything he said could be considered true.

It was during the long trek across the Ozmone Plains towards Golmore, and the village whose name shall not be spoken that Balthier found himself sandwiched between Basch on the right and Larsa on the left.

Having too much pride to argue the point, despite knowing magick was not truly his forte, it had been decided that he should act as a support and magick user in any fiend skirmishes as Fran insisted on taking point and marching ever onwards towards a place she had once told him she would never return to.

Larsa, being endowed with a supply of curatives whose number was only dwarfed by his generosity in their distribution, was also bringing up the rear. Basch, Balthier suspected, was simply hoping for a respite from the silent disregard of his regal ward.

' You are from Archades, are you not, Balthier?'

Larsa, bright blue eyes filled with that disturbing intelligence and lack of the spite Balthier was used to seeing in Archadian gentry, looked up at him expectantly.

' I am from and destined to many places, tis the way of Sky Pirates.' He evaded without flinching.

On either side he could feel Basch and Larsa's regard on him, Larsa, ever the quick one, seemed to recognise he over-stepped himself.

' Forgive me, I meant no offence.'

' Indeed Balthier, I had thought upon hearing your speech that you were Archadian born also.'

Basch's voice rumbled in it's own customary unusual accent. There was just the slightest hint of wry amusement, reminding Balthier vaguely of Fran.

'And you, yourself, Captain, where was it you hail from originally?'

Deflection was not a certain escape but it was the best he could muster in his own defence at present. Why could he never seem to shake off the shackles of his past?

' Landis. A Kingdom fallen over a decade since.'

Basch did not sound disturbed to be speaking of his homeland, he had clearly made his peace with it. Good for him.

' Landis?' Balthier made a show of trying to remember a fact he had never forgotten, 'Felled by Archadia wasn't it? Much in the nature of Nabradia, if memory serves.'

It occurred to him distantly, as he watched Larsa flinch and Basch frown, that he really should make plans for he and Fran to part ways from this party post haste. Surely they brought out the worst in him?

'Aye, she was.' Basch agreed darkly, 'But that was many years ago and I have since found a new place in the world.'

Balthier restrained himself from voicing the instant retort, that if his new place in life involved being accused of regicide and strung up in a dungeon for two years then perhaps he would have been better off dying with Landis, though it was difficult.

Thankfully it was at this point that a herd of Wu descended on the party leaders and Balthier was called upon to shoot gigantic bird creatures and use his dubious healing magicks on his compeers, ending any and all further discussion.