Vignette 13 - Faffing About
Beoulve Mansion, Eagrose, Early Afternoon
"Thank-you for what you were trying to do in there, Delita, but, please, don't ever do that again with Dycedarg - you know what he's like!" Ramza said as they walked back to the Mansion.
They'd arrived at the Beoulve Mansion around midday and sent a messenger up to the castle, where Dycedarg was apparently attending upon the Duke. Zalbaag was at the army barracks, further down the valley, so Ramza had sent a messenger to him too, reporting their success. The messenger had returned from Dycedarg, post-haste, demanding their immediate attendance.
Instead of the congratulations they'd felt entitled to, the three boys had been given a severe tongue-lashing for exceeding their orders. On seeing his friend appear to be physically drooping under the thorough upbraiding, Delita had impulsively spoken up to try to take all of the blame onto himself. Ramza was right, of course, lying to Lord Dycedarg was not a way to endear either of them to him.
Delita didn't respond to Ramza. He felt far more rebuked than thanked, but he knew that what Ramza had just said was just - as accomplished a dissembler as Dycedarg was, he hated to be lied to himself. Argath spoke up.
"I see that what you said on the way back into Dorter, with the Marquis, was correct, Ramza. I thought you were just trying to get out of the tedious duty of guarding a sick man, but now I realise that you really did have reason to worry about your brother's reaction... even if I can't understand why he wouldn't be more pleased."
Ramza didn't answer him for a moment, instead greeting the guards on the gate of Mansion Beoulve as they passed through.
"I don't know why he isn't pleased either, Argath, he... Zal... Hey ZALBAAG!" The last was in a deafening shout.
Ramza jogged towards the distant, retreating back of his elder brother, who was heading from the stables to the house. The older man turned and grinned at the younger.
"Ramza, I hear we are to congratulate you, yet again, on your success. You really are doing us proud, brat!"
"Well at least you're not annoyed with us!" Ramza said, in relief, as Delita and then Argath caught him up.
"Dycedarg? I know." Zalbaag sighed. "He thinks you should have stayed on the Eagrose battlements and left the fighting to more experienced men."
"Zal, you did tell him that you told us to go to Dorter, didn't you?" Ramza asked anxiously.
"I told him that I'd told you that my spy had gone missing – it's a terrible shame about Frederick, of course – and that I'd left the option open for you to go and investigate. I couldn't tell him I'd ordered you - because I hadn't."
Unwatched by Zalbaag, Delita rolled his eyes at that. He wondered if Zalbaag had made it clear that he'd as good as ordered them to go. Zalbaag's tendency to always speak only the truth was like Ramza's - as frustrating as hell - and it could sometimes lead to just as many misunderstandings as an outright lie.
Dycedarg would know, of course, that Zalbaag – General Beoulve – had strongly implied to the cadets that they should go and one did not ignore even the merely implicit orders of one's general. Nor could they, realistically, have left the job he had given them half-finished and just come home after they had discovered that the Marquis was being held less than a day's journey from Dorter.
Ramza would tell him that he was being needlessly suspicious of Dycedarg, but Delita worried why in Ivalice the man wasn't pleased. The Marquis, as ruler of Limberry Province, had been due on an unofficial visit to the ruler of Gallione Province. As that ruler's closest advisor and most trusted friend, Lord Dycedarg should be delighted that it was a unit led by his own brother that had rescued the Marquis - it should do him much credit with Duke and Marquis alike... shouldn't it? If he was upset and displeased, what did that mean was really going on?
Ramza had been right, the day they first left the Akademy, they were sixteen and no-one would let them play political games. Once they had gone on this final raid against the Brigade, they would be back to Eagrose for a brief spell guarding the castle walls, then, once all the regular troops returned to duty, they'd be back to school for a few weeks until they graduated. Nor, realistically, would anyone let him play those games after he graduated, a raw low-born ensign posted the gods knew where.
He realised that Ramza had spoken to him.
"Hmm?" he responded.
"Nothing important. You were miles away." Ramza said with a smile and a shake of the head.
"Zalbaag, why would Lord Dycedarg be so very upset that we had gone on to rescue the Marquis? He surely cannot think that, once we had discovered that he was just a few miles from Dorter, we would just leave him there, for at least ten days, while more experienced troops were dispatched, can he?" Delita asked, walking beside the brothers towards the Mansion, Argath trailing them.
"Oh, I don't suppose that he is upset that you rescued the Marquis. He's annoyed that you left without telling him you were going and that, in the end, you acted without orders or adequate back-up. He thinks you're too young to have undertaken such a rescue. Just between us, boys, I think he's been dwelling too much on what could have gone wrong, rather than what did go right.
"He wasn't really bothered that you had gone to Dorter, even after we got your note saying that my spy was dead. It was only the note that arrived two days ago, that said you were setting out to rescue the Marquis, that really got to him. He fumed for hours about you exceeding your orders. Still, he should have known," he clapped his little brother on the shoulder, "that troops led by a Beoulve seldom fail." He laughed and ushered them towards the house.
That just confirmed for Delita that Dycedarg hadn't wanted the Marquis rescued.
An hour later, the boys had bathed and had felt relieved to change into something that wasn't armoured, for once. They spoke to the first servant they came across to find out where, either their sisters, or the other four girls were. As it turned out, all of them were in Tietra and Alma's rooms, which flummoxed the boys.
"All six of them?" Ramza asked.
"Yes sir."
They turned around and went to their sisters' suite of rooms, Ramza assuring Argath that, yes, it would be fine for him to come along, which led Delita to raise an eyebrow questioningly at Ramza, when their guest wasn't looking.
They reached the room, knocked and went in. They hadn't known what the girls would be spending their time on, but they hadn't expected this.
"What are you all doing?" Ramza asked his sister confusedly, through the clamour of chatter and giggling.
"Well Tietra and I have a new lady's maid and she's fantastic at dressing hair and doing make-up, so we invited the girls to come to our rooms to be pampered before dinner." Alma said.
"But dinner isn't for a couple of hours, and what about all this other... girly stuff?" Ramza said, shaking his head disbelievingly as he gestured at Samantha who was filing Ophellia's nails for her.
"Ramza," Alma said patiently, sounding like she was speaking to a five-year-old, "this girly stuff is fun and is part of preparing for the banquet - and four of your companions are girls, believe it or not, which makes girly stuff completely appropriate. And how long do you suppose it will take poor Jaane, our maid, to get six of us ready?"
"They're not just girls, they're my squad and they looked perfectly presentable as they were – in uniform. They don't need to faff about with themselves like this – you shouldn't have encouraged it."
Ramza gradually became aware that what he had said had not made him any friends amongst the female part of his squad - the looks being directed at him were not the happiest.
"Faff about with themselves! Huh! And I didn't encourage it. There is a banquet tonight so I offered the services of our new maid to any of the girls who wanted to have their hair and make-up done and it turned out they all did, and I'm giving Jaane a large bonus for working so hard to look after us all, today.
"As I understand it, all seven of you have been running around clad in armour, mud, blood and guts, for a couple of weeks now and, even if you are completely oblivious, four of your comrades are girls. Girls like to look nice and feel nice and smell nice. Just because you three are barbarians doesn't mean Sam, Hildy, Juli and Ophellia are."
Ramza didn't reply, he just looked nonplussed at his sister's vehemence.
"Believe it or not, Alma, even we three barbarians don't go around deliberately daubing ourselves with mud, blood and guts." Delita put in, grinning at Ramza's obvious perplexity.
Ramza retreated to sit next to Tietra and get out of his own sister's direct line of fire. Delita went over to sit with Juliana, who had already had her hair done, and murmured in low tones.
"Well I think you always look nice and feel nice and smell nice, so now that she's made your hair extra pretty, I'm not sure there's anything else that this Jaane could possibly do." She blushed and beamed at him.
"What was that?" He asked suddenly, raising his voice, taking his attention off Juliana and giving it all to his sister and Alma, who were sitting one on either side of Ramza, now.
"We were telling Ramza that Zal says he's going to see about persuading the Duke to throw a Grand Ball to celebrate, once the Corpse Brigade are defeated. He says it will be a nice thank-you to all of you cadets for so willingly helping out with the guard duty – or in your case rescuing Marquises and taking part in the raids, I suppose." Alma said.
"Tietra, I'm not sure that I remember any of the dances, will you help me practise beforehand?" Ramza said, almost plaintively. "Alma told me she wouldn't ever dance with me again after that last little mishap."
"You dropped me when we were practising the Volta and I ended up with a sprained ankle!" Alma said indignantly to her brother.
"As long as it isn't the Volta, you practise." Delita said darkly. It was classed as a slightly risqué dance.
"Actually, that's the one I particularly want to..." Ramza began, only to be cut off.
"No!" Delita said. "I remember the last time the two of you danced..."
"No! You can just shut up, Delita Heiral!" His usually mild sister suddenly flared up. "I was eleven and it was only... Gods, you are so damned embarrassing!"
"Mind your language, Tietra." Was all he could think to say in reply. He was a little shocked, that sort of reaction was just so out of character for her.
"What, "damned"? Like you don't use that and worse all the time! What are you, my dad, now? Good grief, Delita, you're only fourteen months older than me! And I suppose you and Juliana have never so much as kissed, hmm?" She paused for a moment, glancing apologetically at Juliana.
"Sorry, Juli, I don't mean to drag you into this, but this is just that this is so typical of him!"
As Teitra got up from the settle and stalked into the bedroom, Tietra was was still pointing accusingly at her brother. Delita could do nothing but blink at her retreating back, but then he turned back to the offensive.
"I mean it, Ramza, you two are not..." again he was cut off.
"Oh, for the gods' sake, Delita, just shut up! She's right you are embarrassing and you're making a fool of yourself!" Alma jumped up and followed Tietra.
Delita could not see Juliana's amused expression, as she'd deliberately angled her face away, so he threw an arm around her shoulders as he stared resentfully after Alma and Tietra. He was vaguely aware that he had made something of an idiot of himself, all because of one kiss Ramza had stolen from Tietra, during a dance four years before - and it had, after all, been nothing but a brief peck on the lips.
He reflected that he probably resented it more than he should have, in part, at least, because he'd subsequently tried stealing a kiss from Alma, in retaliation, a few days later, and been shoved away so hard he'd landed on his behind in an ignominious heap.
Never mind that, he had more important things to worry about, just now.
"Ramza, how much does it cost to throw a Grand Ball?"
"How should I know? Thousands - tens of thousands, possibly." Ramza looked at him quizzically.
"How much would the Dead Men's back pay and discharge bonuses have come to, do you suppose?" Delita deliberately kept his tone light.
"What? What are you talking about?" Ramza just looked confused now.
"The money! The money they were all owed – legitimately owed – that was never paid to them. The money that originally led to them to form the Corpse Brigade! Not more than a few tens of thousands, I'm thinking!" Delita's tone had lost all semblance of lightness now.
Ramza looked at him and actually paled.
"You mean...?" Ramza trailed off, finally understanding the implications of what Delita had said, but not wanting to put it into words. This whole situation was so dishonourable, put like that.
"I mean... Oh, I'm going to find Zalbaag – I need to talk to him about it!" Delita extricated himself from Juliana and marched out.
Ramza frowningly watched him go, then suddenly jumped up and raced after him.
Author's Note:
It wasn't until I was writing Delita's introspective vignette a few weeks ago, and I was double checking that what I had written about Wiegraf Folles and his Lieutenants tied in with the information the game gives, that it really struck home that the Corpse Brigade would never have even existed if those men and women had just received what they were owed when they returned home from the war. It makes the entire scenario, including Tietra's death, which in turn inspires all of Delita's extremist actions throughout the rest of the game, completely and tragically unnecessary. The game never makes it clear why this particular unit didn't receive what they were owed, either. Of course, you really wouldn't have this game, if it didn't happen...
As I'm sure you've already worked out, I don't see Delita as an intrinsically bad man, or certainly not a thoroughly evil one - he's far from whiter than white, but I think he's far more interesting and realistic painted in various shades of grey than in pure black (besides, I always saw Dycedarg as the true (human) villain of the piece). At this point, Delita's barely a pale grey, he's possibly even an off-white - but he'll start to nose-dive towards the charcoal end of the scale as the game goes on, of course. I do see the situation where the Corpse Brigade aren't paid and instead decide to start a rebellion as avoidable, which in essence means Tietra's death and so Delita's descent was probably also avoidable.