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Title: Maoh, A Day Late

Summary: Since Yuri managed to get abducted out of his own castle, a rescue is organized.

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Part V, Chapter 3

In this world

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Scowling furiously, Yuri slammed his foot into the door of the carriage, but the wood refused to do more than rattle a little under his assault. He kicked it again for good measure, though all he seemed to accomplish was making his leg hurt.

This time, the thing sitting across from Yuri didn't stop him, only watching him placidly from behind Miko Shibuya's face.

There had been only a single moment when Yuri thought this thing might be his mother, an unexpected sliver of shock and longing cutting straight through his heart. He had frozen, staring up at that familiar face. Then, reality had caught up with him. It was just an illusion.

Emotion of a different sort had clouded Yuri's judgment instead. Pure fury and indignation had flooded his veins, and unthinkingly, Yuri had climbed into the carriage after the puppet, angry questions already on his lips. The door had closed and locked shut behind him.

The click of the lock had startled Yuri out of his anger. In his moment of hesitation, the cloaked figure that had been sitting beside Miko's double had slid out of the opposite door and quickly blocked off that avenue of escape as well.

The carriage had suddenly begun to move, and when Yuri tried to protest, the puppet wearing his mother's face had leaned in and held him still. If Yuri had not already been aware of its nature, the cold, unyielding feeling of its hands on his shoulders would have made it clear. This thing was not a human or a Demon.

It was much stronger than one too, Yuri thought with a grimace, massaging at the slowly blossoming bruises on one shoulder.

'Abducted from my own castle,' Yuri mused, caught between frustration and embarrassment. 'What will Wolf say? I'm never going to live it down.' He sighed. 'Well, at least they'll come to get me soon. It's not like could have missed the part where a mystery carriage took off with me.'

Across from him, the puppet continued to smile blankly. Yuri scowled again, just looking at it rousing his temper. "You can drop the charade. I can tell you're not my mother," he snapped. His eyes narrowed as something occurred to him. "How do you even know what she looks like?"

The puppet gave no reply.

Crossing his arms, Yuri settled down to wait in the dark, swaying interior of the carriage. Although he had no doubt that his friends would come to his rescue and, in this case, he was looking forward to it, he almost hoped they would take a little while longer, so that he could find whoever was behind this and get the answers he needed.

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The soldier Gwendal had been giving orders to grew more and more pale with each word. It was frankly alarming, for all that Gwendal refused to show any such emotion.

"Out with it," he finally snapped, making the guard flinch violently. "What is it?"

"Sir," the soldier swallowed heavily, "is there... something wrong with the Von Spitzweg family?"

"Don't concern yourself with that," Gwendal said shortly, mostly because they had not decided on a cover story. He supposed he could say there was some kind of new illness going around... but better not to spread rumors, especially if the situation could be resolved with relative ease. "Just cover the roads and make sure no one goes in."

Gwendal was used to being obeyed immediately, and the fact that the soldier still hesitated made his feeling of unease grow.

Before Gwendal could prompt him again, the guard blurted out, "A carriage arrived just now, from the Spitzweg territory. They had the family seal, so we allowed them entry, but if... if there is some kind of trouble..."

"When was this?" Gwendal demanded urgently, already striding out of his office, toward the courtyard. 'How is that possible? According to Raven, there shouldn't have been anyone left at Castle Spitzweg at all!'

The courtyard was empty, Gwendal could see as he made his way to the gate. It made no sense. Seeing his approach, the other guards had moved from their posts, despite the fact that it was clear they wanted nothing more than to hide somewhere until the storm of his displeasure had passed.

"Well, where is it?" Gwendal barked. "Where's the carriage from Spitzweg?"

"They already departed," one of the guards ventured. "They were only here for a few minutes."

Gwendal's eyes narrowed. That didn't make any sense either. The entire situation was growing stranger and stranger, and he didn't like it at all. "What did they want? Who was inside?" he asked rapid-fire.

"There was a woman inside," a guard ventured, quivering away from Gwendal's glare. "She-she had a message for His Majesty..."

"And?" Gwendal snapped. "Did His Majesty speak to this individual?"

The soldier nodded, making Gwendal grind his teeth. "For a little while. He left with Lord Weller right afterwards."

"Find them, now!" Gwendal barked. He didn't know what was going on, but every sense was telling him that something was wrong. He paused for only a moment before adding, "And track down that carriage. Pull them over."

The gathered soldiers scrambled to obey, rushing away in all directions.

However, it wasn't one of them who found Conrart. It was Wolfram.

His scream echoed across the castle.

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Wolfram had washed the blood of his hands, but it remained soaked through the sleeves of the travel clothing he had worn in preparation for their departure. Judging by the way he kept twisting his hands together, the feeling of it had not faded either.

There was little Gwendal could do but lay a comforting hand on his slumped shoulder.

Standing, Wolfram shook his head. "Yuri was right," he muttered. "I never wanted that."

"Can you tell me what happened?" Gwendal asked with all the gentleness his usually afforded only to small, cute animals. In that moment, his youngest brother looked more delicate than any kitten he had ever held.

"...I finished my packing, so I was looking for those two," Wolfram explained slowly. "We'd need to set out soon if we wanted to reach the foot of the mountain before evening. But I couldn't find them anywhere... One of the maids said she'd seen Yuri pull Weller into the gardens, so I went to check, and..."

He shook his head again, unable to continue. Gwendal didn't press. The scene he and the guards had rushed in to find was still painfully clear in his mind - Wolfram kneeling beside Conrart's prone, bleeding body, a crimson-tipped dagger and what at first appeared to be the king's form lying crumpled nearby.

The other form had been only a puppet, dressed in a replica of Yuri's favorite black uniform and a short black wig. Somehow, every guard on duty at the gate and most likely Conrart himself had been fooled by it. Gunter and Murata had taken custody of the cursed thing and had only just emerged, the expressions on their faces suggesting that their findings were not favorable.

An image of the situation was beginning to take shape in Gwendal's mind, and he did not at all like what it suggested.

The door across the room opened, and a young woman in the white uniform of a medical officer stepped out. Her dark green eyes were troubled as she turned to regard the people waiting for news of her patient.

"How is he, Gisela?" Gunter asked, drawing nearer. Murata trailed behind him, seemingly lost in unpleasant thoughts. From another corner, Celi and Raven came closer as well, the duty of comforting the former queen having fallen to her childhood friend while Gwendal tried to regain at least some control of the situation.

"Lord Weller's injury is not life-threatening," Gisela said. That much she was certain of. "It is not even exceptionally serious. He will need to recover for a time, but I have stemmed the blood flow, and I do not foresee any difficulties, barring unexpected complications."

She hesitated, setting Gwendal's already strained nerves on edge. "Well, what is it?" he demanded.

"...To be honest, I'm surprised that this kind of wound could have knocked out Lord Weller," Gisela admitted. "I tested the blade for poisons, just in case, but I didn't find anything."

"It might have been from emotional shock," Gunter suggested quietly. "If he thought that His Majesty had attacked him..."

Celi drew a sharp breath, her grip on Raven tightening. Gwendal could understand - just imagining what Conrart must have felt made his gut twist queasily.

"How was that possible?" Gwendal asked, his voice sharp as he tried to wrestle down his anger.

Gunter shifted awkwardly under his glare, but Murata seemed too preoccupied to notice. As he looked up, pulled out of his thoughts, his glasses caught the light ominously.

"The puppet was animated and made into a temporary familiar," he said, his usually cheerful voice low and angry. This was the Great Wiseman speaking, no longer just Yuri's old friend. "The puppet is able to create an illusion that makes it appear to be the person it was created in the shape of. In this case, Shibuya."

"Wait, but then where's Yuri?" Wolfram wondered.

"...The guards said he got into the carriage, only to climb back out almost immediately," Gwendal said heavily, his mind almost rebelling against the very idea of must have occurred. "Most likely... the one they saw exit the carriage was this puppet, and the king..."

"...Has been abducted?!" Gunter exclaimed, his already drawn features paling alarmingly.

"We have to get him back!" Wolfram shouted, jumping to his feet.

"The patrols I sent somehow failed to catch up to them," Gwendal noted sourly, "but there shouldn't be much doubt where they were headed."

"Back to the Spitzweg territory," Wolfram said grimly. "Then what are we waiting for? Let's go!" Only Gwendal's hand on his shoulder prevented him from storming off.

"We can't make a spectacle. There's no telling what the other Ten Aristocrats would do if they caught wind of this," Gwendal cautioned, though he himself was less than pleased about having to worry about politics at a time like this.

"Then let me go with just a few people," Wolfram shot back. "We can move faster that way as well!" And time was of the essence in their situation.

"Please allow me to accompany you," Raven said, bowing. "This is... too much. I can't believe His Excellency would resort to such a thing."

"I'm going too," Celi announced, to her sons' surprise. Her expression - decisive and impatient with their delays - was one Gwendal was by far more used to seeing on Wolfram's features. Noticing Gwendal about to protest, she cut him off sharply, "Don't try to stop me. This is my brother apparently behind this. I will be going, no matter how you feel about it."

"I'll be coming as well," Murata said quietly, providing no further explanation.

Next to him, Gunter was clearly struggling to hold himself back from volunteering as well. He and Gwendal exchanged a quick look - their presence would be needed at the castle, to handle the fallout, coordinate the forces and marshal the reinforcements that Gwendal was sure they would need before this was over.

Gwendal looked over the proposed advanced force with a skeptical eye. While physically uninjured, Wolfram appeared to be at the end of his emotional rope, between finding his older brother bleeding out and his friend and liege being abducted. Gwendal had always thought that Wolfram had more strength in him than people gave him credit for, but was sending him on such a potentially dangerous mission in any way advisable, in his current state?

Their mother and Raven would probably be able to handle the emotional strain better, but they were both deeply involved in the situation and their judgment would be entirely compromised. Could he really count on them to came the right, logical choice when the time came?

And the Great Wiseman was clearly hiding something again, his drawn, unhappy look sending a faint shiver down Gwendal's spine. Whatever he was thinking, it could only be bad news. What could possibly be worse than miasma and the king being kidnapped from his own castle?

Could this group possibly be less suited and prepared for their task?

He should have known better than to ask.

The infirmary door Gisela had emerged from opened suddenly, Conrart standing in the doorway. Clean bandages were wrapped tightly around his middle under his unbuttoned shirt. Despite leaning against the doorframe more heavily than necessary, he was standing on his own two feet and his eyes were clear and focused.

"I'm going too," he said, prompting a storm of protests.

Taking one look at him, Gwendal knew there would be no changing his mind. Watching as Gisela tried to reason with him, Celi tried to guilt him into staying, and Wolfram snapped something in an attempt to hide his own concern, Gwendal briefly contemplated knocking Conrart out or sedating him. It wouldn't work, he knew. He recognized that look. Conrart would not be deterred.

Somehow, someway, Gwendal felt like Yuri was to blame for this. And from experience, he knew that kind of madness couldn't be fought.

"We don't have time for this," he snapped, catching everyone's attention. "You're all going. Get dressed, saddle your horses and head out. We're already too far behind as it is. Gunter and I will follow with a full contingent of troops. In the meantime, don't do anything stupid."

He strongly suspected that last was little more than wishful thinking.

Nodding sharply, Conrart stalked off, surprisingly steady on his feet.

"I healed him as much as I could, but if he fights, the wound will likely reopen," Gisela cautioned Gwendal, shaking her head before departing as well.

"Gwen..." Celi began, before shaking her head. She knew better than anyone how stubborn Conrart could be.

"It's alright, Mother," Wolfram spoke up, pausing on his way out. "I'll look after him. ...Yuri'll be upset if something happens to Weller."

Even with the weak qualification, having such a sentiment come from Wolfram was unexpected and somehow touching. His brother really did have steel under that selfish, spoiled exterior, Gwendal mused.

Thinking the same, Celi smiled fondly. With a light caress to her oldest son, she headed out to change, Raven following at her heels.

Gwendal's gaze lingered on Murata and Gunter, the only ones still remaining in the room. Gunter had stayed back, drawing the Great Wiseman aside. Despite his clear concern for the king, Lord Von Crist had been the one to notice the clear gap in their knowledge of the situation.

"I would suppose the puppets are being used as pre-manufactured golems. In a way, that may make them easier to animate. However, to give them a life-like appearance, even temporarily, enough to fool not only the guards, but even Conrart... I've never heard of a magic like that before," Gunter said quietly, his gaze free of judgement but intent on Murata.

"I'm not surprised," Murata muttered, his usually lighthearted expression forbidding and dark. "It's not a skill practiced by the Demon Tribe here."

"Or by any esoteric skill handler I've ever heard of," Gunter noted. "And I do not think Stoffel would know of such a thing either."

"No, he probably wouldn't," Murata agreed, tilting his chin down to hide his expression.

Gunter studied him for a moment, almost unwilling to follow his thoughts to their conclusion. "Then," he finally said, "the issue here is not simply that Stoffel has been poisoned by miasma. It would not, after all, grant him skills of which he has no knowledge."

"No. It wouldn't," Murata said. He turned away suddenly and headed for the door.

"You know what is happening here," Gunter called out, part-question, part-statement.

Murata paused. "I know what I desperately hope it's not," he replied without turning back, and without giving them a chance to question him further, disappeared down the hall.

His rapid footsteps sounded almost like he was running.

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((Never mind. You guys are forgiven. For now.))

((So have a chapter where a fat load of nothing happens, haha.))