Chapter 7- Riou's Recruits
Next morning, as the sun was rising from behind a bank of clouds and Flik had just finished pulling on his pants, there was a knock at the door of his room. Heedless of his half-dressed state, Flik walked over and opened the door, asking, "Yes?"
Instantly he was set upon by a furry mass of little black eyes and great gaping teeth that was just about the size of his own head. Flik swung up his arms to ward the blow and was rewarded with a sharp pain on the right wrist as the…thing clamped its mouth down. From the door, Flik heard a girl shout, "NO, Bonaparte! BAD, Bonaparte!" A young girl with cascading brown hair stepped into view. She was wearing a very large, white beret and an almost immodestly short blue dress with cut-out shoulders. She reached out and grabbed the…Bonaparte from behind and started tugging. Setting his feet, Flik braced himself the other way and, with a giant popping noise, Bonaparte finally released its death grip on Flik's arm. Suddenly free, Flik staggered backwards across the room and thumped his back on the post of his bed, collapsing onto the floor.
With a concerned gasp, the girl flew across the room to examine Flik's injured arm. Holding his slightly bloodied hand and looking up at him with her huge brown eyes, she said, "I'm so sorry, my Bonaparte is usually so gentle with strangers. He must be in a bad mood this morning." Bonaparte meanwhile trotted over to the lowest shelf of the bookcase and started gnawing on a book.
Flik, suddenly blushing, managed to blurt out a cogent, "Eh?" Carefully, he tried to reach around the girl with his left arm, attempting to get at the rest of his clothes. She however jumped to her feet, rushing over to the rescue of Flik's books. Flik took the moment to stuff himself awkwardly into his yellow shirt, while listening to the girl scold Bonaparte. Getting his head clear, he saw the girl holding Bonaparte with one hand, while poking the thing in one of its six eyes. Then he noted exactly which book Bonaparte was chewing on. It was the diary of his years with Odessa!
With a strangled groan, he launched himself across the room, upending the table, only to get smacked in the forehead by the diary as Bonaparte spat it away. It dropped onto his bed, and Flik grabbed it up, cradling it close to his chest.
"Oh, I'm so sorry, Mr. Flik. I don't know what's come over Bonaparte today. He's usually such a nice Bonaparte."
Flik looked up at the girl across the room. She was now holding Bonaparte with both hands, though seemingly oblivious to the latter's efforts to scramble away. With a resigned sigh, Flik asked, "Who are you? And what has brought you up to my room this morning?"
The girl smiled, which made it ever so difficult for Flik to be annoyed. "I'm Millie and this," she thrust forward Bonaparte, who greeted Flik by trying to worm his way out of Millie's arms to rip off his nose, "is Bonaparte, isn't he cute?"
The blood from Flik's injured wrist was now dripping down his fingers and splattering onto the floor in small droplets. He could only think to reply, "Um…"
Luckily, Millie was quite willing to talk right through him. "Riou helped me find Bonaparte when he was lost, yesterday, so I've decided to tag along with him and help him out. That nice lady, Leona, said I'd make a perfect messenger and told me to come up to announce that I'd joined. Oh, and that archer Kinnison and his pet doggie, Shiro, they also joined. Isn't that great?"
Flik massaged his aching forehead. "Yeah, that's great," he answered, noncommittally. It seemed that Riou was a master of finding both people and trouble. Flik sighed. Why did it feel like his whole destiny was suddenly slipping out of his hands?
"Um…Mr. Flik?" Millie queried, in a slightly less exuberant voice. She had stepped a little closer to him. He suddenly gulped. "Your hair is a mess, and your arm is still bleeding," she continued.
Flik suddenly sprang to his feet and, as politely as he was able, hustled the effusive girl to the door. "Yes, thank you very much. Why don't you go back to Leona, now, okay?" He managed to shut the door before she managed to answer, sliding down into a relieved heap.
Some time later, after bandaging his wrist and fixing his hair, Flik walked out to the grounds in front of the main building. Looking around, he found the practice yard to be strangely empty. Wondering where everyone was, his curiosity was piqued when he sudden cheer rose up from the archery range. Sprinting over, Flik found an immense crowd, maybe everyone in the fort, was clustered around one archer. Muscling through the crowd, he heard snatches of conversation.
"-That's seven in a row. This guy's amazing."
"-One of Master Riou's companions, along with the big guy and the cute girl."
Finally shouldering his way through to the front, Flik attempted to get a good look at this archer. However, he was greeted by the form of a huge white growling wolf. Only the fact that the wolf had a blue cloth tied around his front left leg distinguished it from any other wolf.
Flik was at the point of drawing his sword when a calm voice spoke up, "Down Shiro, down. This man's a friend of Master Riou." The wolf let out an ear-splitting howl, but subsided, allowing Flik a good view of the archer. He was a young man with shaggy brown hair and long sideburns. He was wearing a yellow coat, pale blue tunic, and cream colored pants. A long, red scarf was wound about his neck and trailed over one shoulder, dangling almost to the ground. Grabbing another arrow from his quiver, he carefully drew back his simple bow and, almost casually, released the arrow. It flew towards one of the more distant targets, almost four hundred feet away, hitting with an audible thud. Almost immediately, one of the people at the far end of the course ran out to check, waving his arms vigorously after a quick inspection.
"Another bulls-eye," someone in the crowd cried. "That's eight in a row!" People started clapping and Flik found that he too had begun to clap.
"You must be Kinnison," Flik said, stepping forward.
"Yes," Kinnison replied, while waiting for the men to prepare the target, once again.
"What will you be doing for us, besides your excellent archery?" Flik asked, trying to provoke a conversation. Kinnison however stoically ignored him, focusing once again on the target down range. With practiced expertise, he fired another arrow, which was promptly noted as another bulls-eye.
"Shiro and I, we know our way around forests, so I guess we'd make excellent scouts. We could guide men to ambush positions. Anything to stop Highland." He prepared another arrow.
Flik stepped back, slightly discomforted by Kinnison's intensity. "Well, I'll just leave you in the care of Riou. I hope you do well." With that, Flik turned and walked away. The resounding cheer of the crowd only served to confirm the result of Kinnison's next shot.
The remainder of the day went by slowly enough. It began to rain during the afternoon and this continued through the night. The next morning though, the day dawned clear, though the ground had been turned into a soupy muck. Flik led some of the horse archers out on a quick patrol, returning just after noon. Leona was busy serving a line of hungry soldiers from a vat of bubbling rice, but she motioned Flik over when he entered.
"A strange man came through about five minutes ago, heading upstairs. He may be one of Riou's recruits. I sent Millie up to find out, but you may want to see for yourself."
Flik nodded. "Thanks." Walking up the stairs, he gradually became aware of an argument in progress. Millie seemed to be upset with the stranger.
"You can't just barge in here and throw your stuff in this room. It belongs to-"
"Tut!" said the stranger, who had a melodious, if somewhat effeminate voice. "The very first thing that you'll need to do is change the bedding. Ugh, those colors don't suit me at all, and change the drapes, while you're at it. Let's see…oh, that bookcase must go and doesn't this place have something a little more ornate to serve as a table?"
By this time, Flik had arrived at the doorway of his room. Millie, Bonaparte in tow, was standing to the side of the door, while the extravagant newcomer held forth about the changes that he required. He almost seemed to dance around the room, his cream colored headdress and cloak swirling about, revealing that he appeared to be wearing a long, purple gown. His brown hair was shoulder length and curled in towards his face. Flik felt rather put off right from the first glance.
Meanwhile Millie looked up and noticed Flik in the doorway. "Ah, you're here, Mr. Flik. Now you can tell this fruitcake to get out of your room."
The fruitcake in question was busy declaiming on the need of a large bowl of fruit to go on his imaginary ornate table. He only became aware of Flik's presence when Flik stepped into the room and grabbed one of his outstretched arms. "Ah, yes, the manservant. Well, if you could just change the sheets, you know, to something…wine red, say. And I want the drapes to be canary yellow. And you can just throw out that ugly bookcase, but I do hope that you've got a slightly better table for me. Now, chop-chop and hurry along, my good man."
Flik tried very hard to keep his voice from hissing. "Who…are…you?"
The stranger smiled, seemingly oblivious to Flik's tone. "My name is Zamza, originator and expert in the use of Fire Dragon magic, here by Master Riou's request to become magic instructor to this merry band of…whatever it was again. Now, are you going to change those drapes, or not?"
From behind him, he heard Millie giggle. Flik's right hand clenched as he imagined wringing Zamza's neck. Instead, he replied, calmer than he felt, "I believe that there is some sort of mistake. This isn't the room that you want." Inspiration shot through Flik's head like a bolt of lightning. "Really, I couldn't imagine that you'd wish for a room this small."
Zamza frowned, apparently thinking this through. "You are quite right. Somebody of my greatness would certainly deserve a room at least twice this size."
"Absolutely," Flik concurred, grinning. "Why don't I show you a much better room?" Without further ado, Flik led Zamza outside and across the practice field, in the general direction of one of the barracks. He tried to suppress a chuckle as he noted Zamza looking warily at the mud and gathering his robe slightly. Arriving at the first barrack building, Flik entered and found the senior sergeant on duty, Karl, at his desk.
"Karl," Flik began, without preamble, "this man is here by Riou's invitation. Find him a spot, preferably as far from everybody as you can make it. Try not to overwhelm him too much." Looking back at Zamza, Flik saw that the mage appeared to be sizing up both wings of the building.
"Barracks are only half-full, sir. I'll see what I can do."
"Thank you." Flik turned and walked out, not wishing to see how Karl would deal with the situation.
The next day was quiet, almost ominously so. Flik found himself fretting about the lack of a response from Muse, and he proceeded through his portion of the training irritably, snapping at the men for slight offenses. It didn't help things that late in the day the sky clouded up again and it began to precipitate, a fine drizzle that hung in the air. Worse yet, after dinner Flik sat down to a very depressing meeting with the senior sergeants.
Edrick, the sergeant in charge of finances, began the meeting with, "Commander, things are looking pretty bleak on the financial side. Muse hasn't sent any money in a month. I'm starting to wonder if they didn't vote to disband us and just forgot to send a messenger."
"What can we do about it, Edrick?" Flik asked.
"Sir, we need money. Either that, or we put the men on half-pay, or dismiss half the men. Otherwise, we have barely enough money to last two months, if we hold expenses to the bare minimum."
In his stomach, Flik felt the contents of dinner trying to escape. "Fine, I'll personally ride for Muse in the morning. Maybe I can squeeze a little more potch out of them." The rest of the meeting went downhill from there. Each of the sergeants had problems to report: the training wasn't going as well as they hoped, supplies were short, and the recruiting drive seemed to be lethargic. By the end, Flik was rubbing his temples. It was obvious that the mercenaries were in little condition to fight a major battle. When the last man had finished speaking, Flik sighed and said, "There's little enough that we can do about all of this now. If I can get enough potch out of Muse, some of our problems will go away. Anyway, thank you for your reports, gentlemen. I bid you all a good night."
The meeting adjourned, Flik slouched off to bed. The rain had picked up, drumming steadily on the roof of the building. To Flik, it also felt as if it were drumming on the inside of his head. Little chills raced up and down his body. The hallway seemed to spin in his vision and he was suddenly very nauseous.
Closing the door to his room, he leaned back and tried to steady himself. The darkness was complete, but also a blessed relief. For a few moments, he felt and listened to his heart racing, beating loudly in his ears. He could not remember the last time he had felt this bad. What had caused it, he wondered? Maybe it was a touch of Senan flu?
He pushed back from the door and, pausing only to detach his cape, collapsed into his bed: boots, sword, and all.
"Odessa…Odessa!" Flik coughed, gagging on thick smoke. Off to his right, he could dimly make out the reddish haze of something burning. He tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword and pulled his shield close towards his chest, seeking reassurance in their weight. Then he plunged in towards the fire.
It was a village that was burning, flames hungrily licking at the frames of wooden houses. Shadows of people flitted in and out of the smoke and darkness between the flames. Flik took a step backwards, feeling sweat breaking out on his exposed skin. He looked around, trying to catch a glimpse of Odessa. A red cape seemed to swirl in the smoke over towards one house and Flik bolted towards it, yelling to catch its attention. The figure turned, not Odessa, but a soldier clad in sable mail with a sword at the ready, the ragged red cape fluttering out behind.
Flik lunged to the attack, swinging up his shield to deflect his opponent's sword while stabbing out with his own. Neither sword nor shield met anything corporeal, and Flik stumbled through an image of smoke and flame. White sparks snapped at his face, little points of pain on his cheek. He turned, trying to catch his bearing. Another soldier of smoke and fire was approaching, sword raised up over its head. Reflexively, Flik lashed out with his sword, but the smoke around him twined about his arms, hindering his efforts as though it were substantial. A cold sweat suddenly broke out all over his body as, with a desperate effort, Flik struggled to break his shield arm free and block the descending ebony blade.
The sound of wood splintering and a sharp pain in his left wrist shattered the image. He was falling through darkness, but only for a moment, as he landed back first onto the floor. He lay there for a moment, heart hammering in his chest, and tried to gather his thoughts. He was soaked in sweat and wrapped up in his own blankets. The rain beating on the roof and the wooden floor at his back helped him to orient his position, as he worked his way out of the tangle of his bedding.
Just as he had finished that, there was a knock at his door. "Mr. Flik, are you awake?" The voice was Millie's. He groaned, trying to work out an answer. Luckily, the noise was answer enough. "Sir Viktor is waiting in the planning room, something important has come up."
That propelled Flik to full wakefulness. His previous sickness had departed with the sweat, and he was now ravenously hungry. "Thank you. Could you ask Leona to send up a bowl of the leftover stew, please?"
"Sure thing, Mr. Flik." He listened to Millie's bouncy footsteps fading. Then, after testing his hurt wrist, he picked up the piece of the headboard that he'd inadvertently smashed and placed it on the table. For a moment, he wondered about the state of his hair, but dismissed that and walked from the room.
In the planning room, Viktor greeted him with a cheery "You look awful, Flik."
Flik dismissed the comment, coming around to stand next to Viktor at the far side of the map table. "What's this emergency that's rousted me out of bed?" he asked.
Viktor shrugged. "I don't know, but Riou and his company have just returned, apparently with important information."
Flik rubbed at his hurt wrist, wondering just how long he'd have to wait. The answer came immediately, as the door swung open to admit four waterlogged messengers. Three of them were Riou, Jowy, and Nanami, and the fourth…Flik blinked in surprise.
Viktor smiled broadly. "Well look at this; the little bookworm's all grown up." He stepped around the table and swept the newcomer, or rather, old friend, up into a crushing bear hug.
Apple, for who else could it be with that short brown hair and huge round glasses, protested loudly. "Stop that, you big oaf!" Viktor released her and she stepped back, straightening out her yellow coat. Then she continued her tirade. "How dare you! Sneaking off like that at Gregminster Castle. We all thought you were dead and now I find you here playing King of the Mercenaries. Don't you realize it's been two years and you haven't sent so much as a letter?"
Flik's thoughts jumped back to two years ago. At that time, Apple had been very much a young girl, trailing along in the wake of her mentor, the strategist Mathiu Silverberg. Two years had changed much. No longer a young girl, that time had given her the subtle, graceful curves of a woman. Her glare, however, was just as fiery as two years ago, and now it turned towards Flik. "Well, what do you have to say for yourselves?" She tapped the toe of one of her boots -which matched the color of her coat- impatiently.
Flik and Viktor exchanged worried looks. Then Flik worked up his courage, saying, "You told me you were going to write the letters, Viktor." Apple turned to fix her stare back on Viktor. Viktor, knowing full well that neither of them had ever thought about the need for letters, shot Flik an aggrieved look. Riou sniggered slightly, as if reading their thoughts. Nanami, still wet from the rain, sneezed lightly. Jowy looked as though he was already asleep on his feet.
Apple fidgeted with her coat, even though it was perfectly straight. "Never mind, we have much more important things to discuss." She took a breath before continuing. "The Highland Army has attacked and burned Toto Village to the ground."
Flik, feeling his knees beginning to buckle, reached out and steadied himself on the table. "Are you sure of this?" he asked, lamely.
"I saw the destruction with my own eyes," Apple answered. "As did Riou and his friends. This little girl Pilika is the only survivor." Flik noted the little girl he had not seen before, with brown hair and a pink dress, one hand clutching at a teddy bear, while the other held onto the back of Jowy's shirt.
Viktor's smile had disappeared, replaced with a frown. He looked towards Riou and Nanami, seeing their confirming nods. The room was silent for a moment before he finally spoke. "This is far more than mere border skirmishing. What is he up to?"
Again Apple had the answer. "It's obviously an invasion. I think he means to take and hold as much of Muse, and maybe even of the whole Jowston Alliance, as he can. And you can be sure that he won't ignore this fort."
Viktor pounded the table in frustration. "An invasion, just like that? What about the cease-fire? What about peace? I can't believe that all of Highland is ready to back him in an all out war."
Apple shook her head. "He's set it up well. That fake massacre of the Unicorn Brigade has all of Highland screaming for a war of vengeance. It'll be a while before cooler heads prevail. Long enough for Luca Blight to do some serious damage, if we're not careful."
That sobering news brought silence. Viktor sighed and turned to address the children. "Riou, Jowy, thank you for bringing us this news. We have some important strategy to discuss, but you should all get some rest now."
Neither Riou, Jowy, or Nanami protested the dismissal; they were far too wet and tired to do much more than slouch out the door. Apple, still dripping water, pulled over one of the chairs in the room and sank down into it, an exhausted sigh escaping her lips. Moments later, Millie knocked on the door and came in, bearing a bowl of savory stew. Flik's stomach growled, but before he could take even a step, Apple had leapt up and taken the stew right out of Millie's hands. It was all he could do to keep the disappointment off his face as Apple began to ravenously slurp the stew down.
"Mmm…It's amazing what tastes good when you haven't had anything to eat for a day or so," Apple said, after placing the now empty bowl on the table.
Flik, who had been studying the map, now asked, "How did he get to Toto? He certainly didn't come down North Sparrow Pass."
Apple stood up, regarding the map, as well. "No, he didn't. Instead, he marched out of Fort Retto, here," she pointed to a spot just across the northern border of Muse, "and pushed south all the way across Muse Principality to take Toto from the north."
Astonished, Viktor blurted out, "From the north! But certainly forces from Muse tried to stop them?"
Apple shook her head. "No, after one skirmish at the border, they fell back to Muse City, thinking that the capital would be the target."
"This isn't good," Flik commented. "Do you know anything about their numbers?"
"At least ten thousand," Apple answered, tersely. "I saw the banners of Lord Solon Jhee's Second Army, Lord Kiba Windamier's Third Army, and some of Prince Luca's White Wolves."
Flik's eyes unfocused, momentarily. "Ten thousand…we don't have the men to stand against a field army."
"No, you don't." Apple smiled. "But, if we can hold out against them for a couple of days, I think I have a plan that might defeat them."
Both Viktor and Flik looked at her, dumbstruck. Finally, Flik spluttered, "You have a plan? I mean-"
She glared in response. "I studied under Master Mathiu Silverberg, the greatest military mind of this or any other age! Of course I learned something from him. Did you think that I was just following him around like a love struck little girl?"
Actually, that thought had crossed Flik's mind, more than once, during their time in the Liberation Army two years ago. To preempt any more tirades out of Apple, he said, "I'm sorry. Why don't you tell us about the plan?"
For a moment, it looked as though Apple would continue berating them, but finally she nodded and gestured towards the map. "This plan is all about supply. Luca Blight, having crossed fifty miles of Muse territory to get to Toto, is now operating outside of his supply range. Even with foraging, he'll only be able to keep this army in the field for a few more days before he'll be in serious need of more food."
"This doesn't help us much," Flik interrupted. "He'll be able to get supplies down North Sparrow Pass."
"Please," Apple chided, "wait until I'm done before you raise objections. Continuing: because of the supply situation and his own tendencies, I expect Luca Blight to be aggressive. He'll probably attack Ryube and this fortress as soon as he can march his army down here. This gives us an opportunity. An army, marching in from Muse, through Toto, would be able to get in between Luca's army and North Sparrow Pass, cutting off any hope of supply from that route. He'd be trapped here, in East Muse, and his army would disintegrate from the lack of food. It's perfect!" She clapped her hands together.
"Where will you find this Muse general that'd be willing to lead his army in such a bold way?" Viktor asked. "Most of the generals that I know like to squat behind stone walls, rather than fight."
Apple nodded, an answer already at hand. "General Hauser and his army have just returned from the Tinto-Grassland border. I am sure that if we could get a messenger to him, he would understand this plan."
"Yes," Viktor replied, slowly. "He has a good reputation, and he's not from Jowston originally, so he'd have to be an excellent commander to get an army."
"There's still this problem of us holding them off long enough for Hauser to get into position," Flik said. "I'm not really sure that we can do it."
"Well…that is a problem," Apple conceded.
"What if we use the Fire Spears?" Viktor suddenly jumped in, banging his fist down on the table. "We've been saving them for a moment like this."
"You have Fire Spears?" Apple asked, wonderingly.
"Viktor…" Flik warned, knowing the condition of said spears.
Viktor was already walking towards the door. "Down in the basement, we've got hundreds of them. We'll burn the Highland Army all the way back to Kyaro!"