No Longer Alone
Disclaimer: I own nothing
"Councils of war…" Forde brushed his hair back as he gazed at the oaken doors. On its far side, Ephraim, Eirika, General Seth, Prince Innes, and King Hayden were in session, discussing the best course of action to take.
Franz remembered that the strange girl tagging along with Prince Ephraim – Myrrh – had also been present, at the request of the Prince. Idly, he wondered what that was all about, before returning his attention to his brother.
"A necessary part of wars themselves," Kyle intoned. "Lest you wish to perform random charges in random directions."
"Might beat loafing around doing nothing." Forde grinned. "Besides, we did okay for ourselves out in the Winterspring glades."
It still amazed Franz whenever his brother spoke of it – deep in hostile enemy territory, with only four fighters to their name, and yet they had outmatched Grado forces a hundred times their number. It was truly an incredible feat, and more than once Franz had expressed his awe at it being carried out.
"Yes, and we did so through careful planning and deliberation." Kyle shot Forde a glare. "What are the odds we've had lasted past two days if we'd simply charged every random group of Grado soldiers we met?"
"Funny," Forde replied. "I was under the impression we did just that."
"But only after making sure our strength was sufficient to handle them!"
"What's the difference?" Forde chuckled. "We ride with Prince Ephraim – no matter how close the Pale Rider comes, he won't be catching us anytime soon."
"It's that sort of recklessness that-"
Franz had been watching the argument with a fair amount of fascination. Despite the exchange of words, Franz sensed practically no ire in them. It seemed to him much like a sword duel – only carried out with words, with a gentleman's agreement that certain areas were simply Out Of Bounds. Their relationship was a strong one, forged through countless trials, and not for the first time, Franz wished that he, too, could-
"HELP!" The cry resounded through the halls of the castle, and as one, the three knights turned to see a soldier staggering towards the conference room. Franz quickly noted a rather large wound on the soldier's abdomen.
"How did he-" Forde dashed over to the soldier. "Why didn't any of the guards help him?"
To his credit, the soldier managed a pained chuckle. "They're with my squad. Even worse off than me, they are."
"Hold still." Rummaging in his satchel, Franz drew out a vulnerary, pouring it over the worst of the large wound. The bleeding was staunched somewwhat, and some of the ragged flesh began to mend itself. Still, the soldier was going to require dedicated medical attention – and soon. Franz wished Father Moulder or Natasha were here right now.
"I must… I must speak to the king." The Frelian soldier drew in a deep breath. "Dire… dire news for him."
"Right. We'll go with you." Kyle replied, a worried look on his face.
The soldier was settled onto one of the many chairs in the room as he tried to gather his breath to speak. Franz was silently, his eyes scanning the conference room. Most of the attendees bore stern countenances as they waited for the soldier to speak. He noted Eirika with a concerned expression on her face, and Myrrh in the background, trying not to be noticed.
Finally, the soldier looked up, a dark expression etched over his features. "Milord… the Sacred… the Sacred Stone of Frelia… has been… destroyed."
Franz literally saw the colour drain from King Hayden's face. "What…?" He whispered. "I had the guard doubled just last week! How could-"
"The enemy forces… were led by… Selena Fluorspar and Caellach the Tiger Eye." The soldier spoke softly. "Before their might, we were crushed within an hour."
Franz frowned. The name of Selena Fluorspar was familiar to him – a general of Grado, said to be regarded second only to the nigh-legendary Obsidian, Duessel. Caellach, though…
He saw Innes folding his arms. "Caellach Tiger Eye. He's one of Grado's three new generals. I let my troops against his forces before. They were… formidable."
Hayden slumped down a chair, shaking his head. "How could I have let this happen? Our Sacred Stone… destroyed." He sighed deeply. "And if what you, Eirika, have told me proves true, then Grado's is long gone by now as well."
Franz frowned. Grado was trying to destroy the Sacred Stones? Well, that certainly provided a motivation behind this wretched war, but still…
"We cannot sit here wringing our hands." King Hayden's voice cut in, power and authority flowing through those words. "Grado's target is the Sacred Stones, and we must ensure that those that remain are protected." Hayden paused, weighing the options. "Rausten and Jehenna must be warned."
Forde stepped forward. "Milord, if I may?" At Hayden's nod, he continued. "This is indeed a tall tale to believe. The Sacred Stones are held in high reverence in our lore – to consider that one would try to destroy them seems… well, it seems absurd."
"Then I will go personally." Innes spoke up. "A visit from the prince of Frelia is not something they can ignore. If there are no objections, I will make preparations to depart for Jehenna."
"No objections, but I have a suggestion." Ephraim spoke up. "If you'll grant me command of Frelia's troops, I'll take them and assault Grado itself. If I succeed, then the threat to the Sacred Stones is ended." He sighed. "At the very least, my offensive should draw forces away from their attempts on the other Sacred Stones."
Franz winced. The sheer recklessness of the plan screamed against the rational part of his mind, but knowing the Prince, he wasn't about to back down.
"You've got your father's foolhardy courage, you know that?" Hayden smiled slightly at the memories. "Well, it's settled. Innes, I'll arrange for several troops to accompany –"
"No, I have contacts with a mercenary band. They're reliable enough for a relatively hazard-free journey such as this." Innes said with a slight nod of his head. "Those troops should be kept for some other task."
"If you don't mind, I'll be more than happy to accept those soldiers, King Hayden." Eirika piped up. Instantly, every eye in the room was affixed on her.
"You mean…"
"I will go to Rausten by sea and warn Lord Mansel" Eirika said softly. "I won't be left behind as a moth of peace while all those I care for go off to fight for what they believe in."
"Eirika…" Ephraim shook his head forlornly. "I'd argue against you doing anything rash, but…"
Eirika smiled to her brother. "I have made my vow, just as you have. I won't stop fighting until our land is restored."
"It's settled, then." Hayden formed a steeple with his hands. "Ephraim will take the bulk of our forces and head for Grado, Innes, for Jehenna, and Eirika for Rausten." He closed his eyes. "All our hopes rest upon the three of you now."
And where will we end up going, I wonder? Franz pondered.
Amelia managed a tired smile as she stuffed the last of her belongings into her bag. The barracks was cramped, smelly, and filthy, but now… she didn't want to leave. It represented… well, it represented safety, something she couldn't help but feel was going to be in short supply once she left for Carcino and Port Kiris.
"Let's go, lass." Another one of the assigned soldiers shrugged. "We've got to be there before the commander does, or there's going to be hell to pay."
Amelia nodded and hefted her lance, heading for the gates of the fortress.
As she emerged into the predawn gloom, she could see a relatively large gathering of soldiers in the vicinity. Experience had taught her that most weren't the least bit interested in making conversation, and she quickly wandered into the crowd, trying not to attract any undue attention.
Soon enough, several of the captains appeared. One of them held up his hand for quiet, and quickly began calling out names. As the soldiers were called, they quickly filed into lines.
"Recruit Amelia!" So she was part of this particular group too… She quickly got into line. It was rather big for a single observation mission, but then again, they'd probably be split up to cover wider ground and all that…
"..lot will be heading for Fort Rigwald in an hour's time…" Amelia briefly tuned in to the captain's speech, already wondering whether Carcino was a nice place for a visit or n - Fort Rigwald?
That was at the Frelian border! What could – how… Frantically, she glanced around. None of the other soldiers seemed the least bit surprised at this news. Was there some kind of mistake?
She raised her hand, desperately hoping that she wasn't about to make a fool out of herself in the process. "Um… sir? Commander?"
The captain paused mid-recital to glare at her. "What is it, recruit?" The 'and this had better be worth my time' was left unspoken, but acknowledged.
"Sir, I was told… I was told that I was to be assigned to Port Kiris, not… not Fortress Rigwald. Is there some mistake?"
The captain sighed and turned back to his list. "Are you or are you not Amelia of the Silva region?"
"Yes… yes, I am, but-"
"Then you're assigned to Fortress Rigwald." The captain snapped. "And now, where were we? Ah, yes, we're to…"
Amelia didn't hear him, her sudden shortness of breath and horrible twisting feeling in her stomach having suddenly tripled in intensity within the past two seconds. She was going to Fort Rigwald, the frontlines of the ongoing war with Frelia! And she didn't have the least bit of battle training!
She closed her eyes, feeling cold sweat on her face. What was going to happen to her now?
She sat on the ground at one corner of the courtyard, eyes closed, feeling hot tears stream down her face.
Simply put, she was afraid. If she went to battle now, she'd be killed. And she didn't want to die. It was that simple.
She didn't want to die.
Resting her chin on her knees, she opened her eyes, rubbing at the tears and staring moodily at the ground. They would be leaving in less than ten minutes.
It just didn't seem fair.
"Recruit."
She glanced up. The red-haired sergeant was standing in front of her.
Hurriedly, she clambered to her feet and saluted. The man returned it.
"Recruit, I heard about your assignment."
"Has there… has there been some mistake, sir?"
The sergeant grimaced. "No. Would that there had been one. Sending you to battle is nothing short of murder."
Amelia felt another pang in her stomach, but nevertheless she tried to keep a steady expression on her face.
"Recruit, for what it's worth, you showed the most promise out of the entire batch I trained."
That caught her attention, and she looked up into his face. Could that really be? She always seemed to be struggling to keep up…
"I see by your face that you're surprised. Well, you shouldn't be." The ghost of a smile appeared on his face. "You were an exemplary trainee."
"T – thank you, sergeant."
He nodded in acknowledgment, before handing a tiny pouch to her. "This is for you. Consider it… a good luck charm, if you will."
Frowning, she undid the leather binding, and reached into the pouch. From it, she drew out a single feather, gleaming purest white.
Her mouth fell open. "This…" A speedwing?
"Said to be imbued with the very magic of Garm itself." The sergeant said softly. "Use it wisely, lass."
She swallowed hard. This was probably the most valuable item she had ever seen – and now she clutched it in her hand.
"Thank – Thank you, sergeant." She managed.
He nodded once more and looked to the gates. "Your squad is assembling. You should be going. "May the protection of Latona and the Everlasting be upon you, Amelia."
Not trusting herself to speak, she merely nodded once before setting out to join the rapidly assembling group of soldiers.
Her path lay before her. Now all that was left to do was for her to take it.
Franz stood besides General Seth, observing the proceedings, acutely aware of the fact that his future was probably going to be decided in a matter of minutes, if not seconds.
Still, most eyes were focused on the debate of the twins in the centre of the room.
"Look, Ephraim," Eirika said hotly. "I don't need a large retinue of fighters with me – the squad of troops that King Hayden has assigned to me will be more than enough-"
"I understand, but we must still be prepared for any eventuality-"
"WHAT eventuality?" Eirika retorted. "A ghost ship that'll pop out of nowhere and ambush me on the high seas? Carcino suddenly deciding after it's staunch anti-war proclamations that, 'hey! we'll side with Grado after all'?"
Ephraim folded his arms. "It's still a possibility we can't ignore." He said stubbornly.
Eirika groaned openly and turned to General Seth. "Seth, please talk some sense into him."
The Silver Knight sighed. "Princess, what Lord Ephraim says is true. There is a possibility, however slight, that the forces assigned to you may prove insufficient-"
"Not you too!"
Seth held up his hand in a calming gesture. "I'm not done yet." He said softly. Clearing his throat once, he continued. "Therefore, I shall be accompanying you on your journey towards Rausten."
Ephraim swiveled on his foot. "Now wait just a minute-"
"However, the bulk of the soldiers should still be sent to assist you in battle against Grado." Seth said, glancing down at a map of the continent unfurled across the table. "Regardless of bravado, it is still the most dangerous of the three missions being carried out."
"Hold it, hold it." The voice came from Joshua, seated at the far end of the room on a couch. "If the Princess is heading towards Rausten, I'm going with her. I've got… well, let's call it unfinished business south of Rausten's border.
Jehenna, he means? Franz wondered. He also noticed the crease of anxiety that crossed Natasha's face, but she remained silent.
"Well…" Lute piped up. "If possible, I would like to travel with Lady Eirika to Rausten. There are several rare tomes located in its royal library I would like to study."
Artur smiled a shy smile. "Then I suppose I shall accompany my friend."
Seth nodded softly. "Four able warriors… A good variety of talents." He turned Ephraim. "My lord? Is this to your satisfaction?"
Ephraim sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I suppose I shall have to be satisfied with that."
Franz swallowed. He almost dared not ask, but… "General?" He spoke softly. "What about me?"
Seth turned to him, a warm smile on his face. "Milord Ephraim, if it pleases you, I ask that my protégé, Sir Franz of Renais, be allowed to ride and fight at your side in my stead."
Ephraim look as if he were almost about to grin, but he held himself in check. "It would be an honour." He replied. Franz could see Forde smirking at him out of the corner of his eye.
Ephraim's expression turned serious as he shifted his gaze to regard the rest of the attendees. "And the rest of you – we will be moving to war against the full might of the Grado Empire. Are you resolved to go?"
"I am." Natasha clutched her staff. "I have vowed to see this to end – to see the emperor purged of his madness."
Vanessa bowed slightly. "I, Sir Gilliam and Father Moulder have all been assigned to battle against Grado. We will serve under your command to the end, Lord Ephraim."
Garcia folded his arms. "This old boar's sworn service to the crown of Renais, and he'll fight as well as he's able."
"Me too!" Ross blurted out. "I'm not going to let anyone of you down! I've trained hard for this sort of thing!"
"Colm? Neimi?"
The last two survivors of Lark gazed at each other nervously. Ephraim frowned.
"Truth be told, I don't think it a good idea to send either of you to the battlefield. It is a perilous-"
"Hey, hey, hey!" Colm snapped, leaping to his feet. "Are you saying we can't take care of ourselves?"
"Please…" Neimi said pleadingly. "We have nowhere else to go… let us do this."
Ephraim sighed. "All right, all right. Just… don't do anything rash out on the battlefield, okay?"
"If you see a need to question us of our loyalty to the cause, then something's seriously wrong." Forde chuckled.
"Could you at least pretend that proper decorum is a possibility?" Kyle snapped.
"And Franz?"
Franz saluted respectfully. "For General Seth, my brother, and all of Renais… I'll not let you down, sir."
"Glad to hear that." Ephraim sighed. "Well, we should make preparations for our journey soon. All those under my command, meet me in the courtyard by the passing of the watch, fully prepared for our march. Until then, you're at your leisure. Go."
Franz caught up with the Prince as he was exiting the room. "Milord, if I may?"
Ephraim shot him a glance. "What is it, Franz?"
"Where will we be departing for?"
Ephraim blew out a breath of air. "Fort Rigwald."
If all went as planned, they would arrive at the Fort tomorrow. Amelia closed her eyes, trying not to think about the inevitable conflict awaiting her in the none-too-distant future.
The company had been hiking for nigh over a week, and most of the men bore signs of their trek. Those that weren't in favour of beards sported scraggly growth along their chins, and all of them were covered in dirt, below the knees, mud as well.
Amelia tried to shift her backpack into a slightly more comfortable position, one that would prevent the straps from digging deep into her shoulders like it had been for the past three hours. She was unsuccessful, mirroring the results of the past half-dozen attempts.
Her armour was a wretched piece of extra and unwanted weight on her back. Of course, it beat actually having to wear the thing for the duration of the march, but frankly, not by a heck of a lot.
The captain raised his hand for a brief break, and Amelia flopped to the ground gratefully, panting with exertion and trying to ignore the pounding on the back of her head.
She had already begun formulating a theory that many of the soldiers who went to war weren't afraid to die simply because they were too tired to care about that any longer. It was certainly working on her to some extent.
She sighed, closed her eyes, and gathered up her tattered resolve for what had to be the tenth time so far today.
"Just one more day of this…" She murmured to herself. "Then I'll have a bed to sleep on, and some real food again, not thia hard tack they keep feeding us. Just one more day."
Raising her head, she saw the commander signaling that the march begin anew, and nodding her compliance, she picked up her pack once more, struggling to get it onto her shoulders.
Several days of hard riding had allowed them to reach the base camp of the main bulk of the Frelian forces. Ephraim cast a critical eye over the troops, and had been quickly ushered into a war conference by several of the commanding officers.
Franz dismounted Neige, and turned to the rider directly behind him. "Need a hand, Sister Natasha?"
"Thanks." She smiled gratefully as Franz helped steady her own mount enough that she could get off.
"Think nothing of it." Franz shrugged.
"And Franz, please stop calling me 'Sister'. It's…" She flushed slightly. "It's embarrassing."
"Well… It is the proper term of respect for the holy women, is it not?" Franz inquired as he strode alongside her.
"I know, I know, but…" She sighed. "On a battlefield? In a war? It's not… if possible, I'd like to avoid that sort of thing."
"If you wish… Natasha."
"Thank you." She smiled, a faint twinkle in her blue eyes. "And thank you, also, for looking after my safety thus far."
Franz smiled and nodded. He remembered Joshua's parting words to him before the flame-haired mercenary had left for Carcino with Eirika.
"Hey, Franz." Joshua was leaning by the doorway.
"Joshua? What is it?"
Joshua glanced over to the courtyard, where Natasha was already waiting. "I'll be heading for Rausten with the Princess soon enough, so… I wanted to ask you a favour."
Franz shrugged. If it was in his power, more than likely he'd be willing to comply with the request. "Name it." He said.
"I want you to protect Natasha while I'm gone." The mercenary scratched at the back of his neck. "I knew she'd choose to go to Grado – that's her mission, her battle. But I've got my own, and I won't be able to look after her." He smiled a crooked smile. "Just this once, I don't feel like leaving things up to luck."
"Joshua…" Franz smiled slightly, impressed at the mercenary's trust in him. "I'll not let you down."
"I know." Joshua grinned roguishly. "I'm betting on it."
Any further remarks the either might have made was interrupted by Forde yelling to them that Ephraim had outlined his strategy and wanted them to hear it. Exchanging glances, they broke into a run for the command outpost.
After a brief presenting of themselves to the commander of the Fortress (and he hadn't seemed much interested in the proceedings), Amelia had gratefully retired to her quarters. Along the way, she had procured the information that she had arrived so late it was early – it was already morning, only the sun was still several hours away from peaking over the horizon.
Somehow, that bit of news failed to cheer her up.
Upon arriving at her quarters, it had taken half a minute to figure out that someone had screwed up logistically, and there were no longer any bunks for the taking– the others had taken all available sleeping positions.
She was thus forced to spend the night on the cold floor, and she was convinced that during the night someone had gotten up and scattered pebbles all around her form, so that whenever she rolled over, she was jabbed in about fifteen different places. Not to mention the sheer discomfort of being the only female in a room jam-packed with men was overwhelming.
Still, she had been so exhausted that sleep had claimed her quickly, and now, as the sun shone triumphant in the sky, she stood before the commander of the Fortress, fully dressed in the battle-armour of Grado.
If only it hadn't been so blasted heavy, she'd probably feel a whole lot better about this.
Regardless, what conversation she managed to overhear centred around a new commander having arrived at the Frelian camp north of the fort. She steadily tuned it out – the less she thought about upcoming battles, the better, in her eyes, and proceeded to let her mind wander freely. One advantage of being a recruit was that as long as you appeared to be following the latest batch of orders, no one cared what else you were doing.
Abruptly the doors to the command room burst open and a burly soldier strode in, half dragging a struggling form in. Upon closer inspection, Amelia realized it was a girl, maybe two years her elder, bearing a head of navy blue hair.
"Stop it!" The prisoner snapped as she struggled against the vice-like grip the soldier had on her arm. "That hurts!"
"Commander Gheb," the soldier saluted. "We found this Pegasus knight sneaking about the grounds. Her Pegasus has been detained in the stables."
Gheb stood from his position on the throne. Amelia couldn't help but feel repulsed by his physical appearance – beady, toadlike eyes stared out from above puffed-out cheeks and thick, rubbery lips. Swallowing, she turned instead to regard the prisoner.
Even from her vantage point, she could see several bruises on her face and arms – all of them fresh. She felt her chest tighten as she realized that the soldier currently grasping the prisoner's arm had been the own responsible for this.
In a swift motion, the soldier swung his arms forward, sending the prisoner sprawling onto the floor of the throne room. Gheb chuckled darkly.
"You didn't tell me she was such a treat for the eyes." His eyes flitted back and form across her slender frame, and Amelia shuddered inwardly.
Silently, the prisoner pulled herself into a half-crouch. "I came for Ephraim." She spoke clearly, but even Amelia could detect the faint tremor in her voice. "If you harm me, he will not be merciful."
The soldier who'd captured her lashed out with his foot, catching her in the midsection. She crumpled to the floor once more, whimpering slightly, clutching her wounded stomach. Amelia grit her teeth. She wanted to help the poor girl, but… but she was a prisoner! A Frelian! Her captain her told her enough about them – they were almost as cruel as the soldiers of Renais, and when they had prisoners, they would torture them mercilessly. Surely this was only payback…
But as she gazed at the pain-filled eyes of the prisoner, she still knew that this was just wrong. She swallowed. Should she speak up? Rush to the prisoner's aid? What?
"Hey, stop." Gheb snapped. Amelia glanced up in relief. He had to detest this abuse as much as her. After, he wasn't commander for no reason-
"No reason to spoil her pretty skin." The corpulent man smirked. "Throw her in the back cells. I'm going to spend the evening giving her a thorough… interrogation." He chuckled again.
Amelia wasn't exactly sure what he had implied with such a speech, but she was certain it could be nothing good. She felt her heart sink as she watched the prisoner hauled roughly to her feet before being dragged away.
"Fort Rigwald."
Franz could hear the implied meaning deep in Forde's voice as the two of them stood, seeing the hazy outline of the fortress wall in the distance.
"Hasn't been conquered in many lifetimes." Forde sighed. "It's said to be the jewel of all of Grado's fortifications. In fact, they say that none have ever breached the walls. The one time they succeeded in storming this place was when someone from within turned traitor and opened the gates to the invaders."
"And yet here we are, prepared to charge perhaps the most impregnable fortress in the realm." Franz sighed. "What do you think, brother? Can we do it?"
Forde frowned, tapping one finger against his chin. "Difficult…" He mused. "But possible, depending."
"Depending?"
"A fortress is only as strong as the people defending the walls, or so that's conventional wisdom. Many of the Grado soldiers that I've fought against… well, let's say a fair number of them aren't any happier than we are about this whole mess. For a long time, Grado and Renais were close allies, and more than that."
"So… you're saying…"
"If we can win quickly," Forde frowned. "Say, charge the throne room or something… we might convince the majority of the defenders to lower their weapons."
Franz barked out a short laugh. "The problem there, brother, is that charging the throne room would involve going through the majority of the defenders first."
"True enough." Forde chuckled. "Guess it's going to come down to old-fashioned swordplay, after all." He shot a look at his younger brother. "I'll try to use non-lethal strikes, though."
Franz shut his eyes and sighed. "I don't like killing any more than you do, brother. Probably even less, come to think of it." The grip on his reins tightened. "But if push comes to shove, then, well… I'll do what must be done."
"Glad to hear it." Forde urged his horse into a slow trot, heading for where the Prince was waiting. "I'll watch your back if you watch mine."
"Deal." Franz grinned.
"The enemy is moving!" Amelia heard the call long before the messenger burst into the throne room. "The Frelian army is on the move! Prince Ephraim of Renais is leading them!"
"Renais?" Before Amelia could respond, the soldier standing next to her snorted in contempt. "Of course he would want a piece of us. We invaded his country without rhyme or reason." He muttered. "My sister and her husband were living in Renais until this stinking mess-"
"Hey."
Amelia turned, along with the soldier, as Gheb turned his gaze upon him. "Trying to discourage the men, eh? The punishment for treason ain't kid's stuff, you know. You get burned alive." Amelia thought she saw an unpleasant gleam in Gheb's eye. She shuddered inwardly. This commander wasn't what she had expected out of one at all.
The soldier, however, apparently had had enough of staying silent. "It's not just me, sir." He replied harshly. "Even General Duessel has stated time and time again that he's opposed to this war! And-"
Amelia had already tuned the rest of his rant out, her shock at this latest revelation enough to overwhelm her, however briefly.
General Duessel… opposed to this war? He didn't want this conflict? But – but he was the Obsidian! The greatest of all of Grado's generals! If even he had no desire to prolong this war, then what-
"Duessel?" Gheb snort of derision broke her reverie. "You'd side with that washed up old coward? Don't forget, maggot, I'm your commanding officer here, and I say you fight, kill, and die in my service!"
Amelia winced at the harshness of the words, but she could scarce believe the next statement to come from her commander's lips. "No one cares if slugs like you live or die anyway!"
"Wait a minute!" She burst out. Gheb's dark gaze fell on her, and she could feel her courage drying up like a puddle on the height of a summer's day. Nevertheless, she pushed on. "How – how can you say something like that? We – we're people! We have our own dreams and families-"
"Who are you?" Gheb snapped. "Your name! Out with it!"
She took a half-step back instinctively. "I'm – I'm Amelia. I was assigned to this fortress today." Today being correct in the most technical sense of the term, she supposed. She shook her head. "I am a soldier of Grado, not some slave or dog you can treat as-"
The back of his hand slammed into her face so hard that she was knocked to the floor. As she lay there gasping, feeling her cheek burn, she heard Gheb's voice, cold and imperious.
"You've got some nerve to talk to your commander like that, girl. I don't know why you're even in the army, but it's time you learned about chain of command. First lesson, you do exactly as I say, got that?"
Before she could bite out a response, another messenger hurriedly entered the throne room. "Commander Gheb! They're within arrow distance of the walls!"
"Grah! Stupid interruptions." Gheb tapped her shoulder with his foot. "Get up, stupid girl. Form up with the others and don't let them near the throne. Grado can ill afford to lose one of my stature and genius. Your lives are as nothing compared to mine, and that's the truth. So go! Fight and kill in my name!"
Not daring to look back, Amelia picked up her lance from where it lay on the floor and hurried out of the room, hardly registering the sympathetic looks she received from several of the soldiers in the room.
"They haven't started firing yet." Franz mumbled as he gazed at the archers arrayed on the top of the fortress walls. The entire company had halted on the fringes of what would be adequate firing distance of the arrows, and both sides were staring each other down.
"Calm before the storm, lad." Garcia said from his position beside him. "It's always that way. No one wants to be the one responsible for starting the bloodbath. That's why it usually falls to the commander of the army to open the festivities."
"Yet Prince Ephraim isn't doing anything." Franz glanced over to where the Prince was glaring defiantly at the archers atop the walls.
"He'll do so soon enough. No worries." Garcia's gaze had already returned to scanning the walls, looking for any possible weaknesses.
"Butterflies in my stomach…" Franz groaned. And it was true. Somehow he felt as if the actual fighting couldn't be any more nerve wracking than simply waiting for it. Fort Rigwald was going to be the biggest challenge they had ever faced. Even assaulting Renvall with a tiny force of soldiers hadn't seemed as daunting a task.
"Once the fighting starts, you'll be too focused to be nervous." Garcia replied distractedly. "Just hold steady, lad. You'll do fine."
Franz nodded, grateful for the comfort and guidance. "Thank you, sir Garcia."
He closed his eyes, trying to find some inner core of peace – and waited for the pain and the screaming and the dying to begin.
"The lot of a soldier. We fight as ordered, and we die as ordered." Her fellow recruit was grousing about the commander's behaviour, but Amelia barely noticed. From her position atop the battlements, she could see the entire enemy army spread out before her.
"There's… so many of them." She whispered softly, almost to herself.
Her fellow recruit looked down as well. "It's not the numbers I'm worried about." He shrugged. "In terms of manpower and terrain, we have the advantage." He breathed out a sigh. "In terms of skill, though… Prince Ephraim leads those troops. He's said to be a demon on the battlefield. There're rumours that he managed to storm Renvall with only three soldiers under his command."
"What?" Amelia's mouth hung open. Renvall? The water fortress? "How in the world could he-"
"Apparently he's just that good." The soldier gave a frustrated sigh.
"Then… then what can we do?" Reflexively, she clutched her lance to herself. If such powerful foes were arrayed against them…
"Trust in the fortress, and our own strength, I suppose." The soldier folded his arms. "The walls of Fort Rigwald have never been breached, and we'll fight to the last." He turned away, heading for his assigned post.
Amelia swallowed. "And… and if that doesn't prove enough?" She asked.
The soldier halted, looked back to face her. "Then you'd best pray that they know the meaning of mercy." And then he was gone.
Amelia drew in another deep breath, willing herself not to cry.
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