"Listen you fucking bastard, leave me the fuck alone!"
Suttungr's face creased into a mask of fury as Sigmund pushed him away, before drunkenly stumbling into a woodpile. He'd seen him slip away from his assigned job from where he sat straddling a beam in one of the simple houses being built.
Seeing the way he had stumbled, he knew that he hadn't gotten a single task that he'd set before him.
Drinking again… I really need to find out where he's getting his booze from, probably one of the Legionnaires.
"Damn you, Sigmund," Suttungr hissed, knowing that several sets of eyes were upon the two of them, "You are a Prince of Jotunheim, is this how you should act!"
That seemed to infuriate Sigmund even more.
"We aren't in Jotunheim, you fool! Freyr made sure of that!" Sigmund clenched his teeth, signs of his drunkenness seeming to recede, "We can't go home! And you saw all the destruction the Surtr and Freyr's men did to Yggadrasil! How many did we lose? Who did we lose?"
Suttungr saw it then, a quick flash of his eyes, as Sigmund turned away again, heading towards the stables. As he watched Sigmund walk away with fists clenched, he took a moment to run a hand through his hair.
He misses home. He thought, turning back towards his own project. We all do.
"I really dislike this plan."
Eren rattled the manacles that wrapped around his wrists.
"Well, you agreed to the plan, didn't you?" Annie said from where she led their little group. "And at least, it's the only way we can move forward. We could never fight our way into Hannibal with only the three of you. Even if we could get them out, they'd run us down in all this snow."
Eren sniffed, but stayed quiet as they grew nearer and nearer to the city. They'd passed through several villages, never stopping to allow anyone to question why they were there. Levi and the others would be waiting outside, since they would stick out like water in a fire.
The city of Hannibal, the capital of the Council lands, was neither as large, nor quite as ornate as Yggadrasil or Utopia, but it was still impressive. Annie had only ever been to the city once, when she had been given her mission. She remembered riding through the defensive walls that surrounded its central districts, nothing more than giant trees that had been cut down and placed. They were lined with stone, painted gaudily, red and yellow. A gate stood in front of them, even now standing open. It was the same gate that she'd left through on the way to her mission…
It's not my mission anymore. She chided herself. I am not a warrior. I'm just… Annie.
But her mother's necklace rode with her, tucked into one of her pockets, a reminder. Ragnar, who had been silent as they rode, spoke up. She turned, seeing his eyes looking out from under his hood.
"It seems someone's finally interested in us."
Annie broke eye contact, and shifted in her saddle a little, as a man wearing the clothing of a low ranking warrior, a yellow tunic that reached down to a little above the knees, with a thick leather belt holding it up, called out to them.
"State your business!" The warrior called, "State your business or be gone!"
Well, it looks like it's time to put this jury rigged plan into action.
"I am Annie Leonhardt, daughter of Jonah and Deborah Leonhardt, a warrior of the third rank," She called out to him as he stopped, "I have completed my mission, and returned as ordered. Shall you allow my party to pass into the city?"
"Why did he call you his grandson, Commander?"
Adam held his salute as he stood in front of Lars. The other man glanced up from where he was reading his report, his blue eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at him. Then his eyes were back down to the report.
"Because he is my grandfather, of course."
"But…" Adam guffawed at his immediate confession, "That means…"
Lars nodded.
"I'm not who I say I am?" He smiled, "You got it. Now what are you going to do with it?"
Adam's eyebrows rose. He hadn't expected to get anything from the usually pretty insular man. He actually hadn't thought about it. He could always turn Lars in, exposing him. But what would that get him? Likely a rope around the neck or a bullet to the head.
No… I wouldn't want that. Not at all.
"Nothing." Adam finally said, relaxing slightly. "I've followed you since you joined the Royal Guard. No point in stopping now."
A wry smile crossed Lars face. He put down his reports, revealing a pistol held in his other hand.
"Good, I didn't want to ruin the carpet."
Ragnar rode close by Annie, close enough that he could reach out and brush her shoulder if he wanted. Eleanor followed behind, holding the reins of Eren's horse.
They'd been allowed entrance into Hannibal after nearly a half hour of back and forth with the guards, and only under the condition that they were escorted directly to the High Council.
Why don't you just break down the walls? A familiar rumble sounded from within. It would make rescuing the ones you came here to find much easier.
Of course not. He thought angrily back, his eyes drifting about. We have no real support. We're far into enemy territory. It would be a slaughter.
Thanatos remained diplomatically silent, but he could hear an annoyed thrumming coming from his dwelling place.
"You little wretch," A shrill voice snapped Ragnar out of his own thoughts, "Come back here!"
Something darted between the legs of Annie's horse, a girl, maybe seven or eight years old with an apple in her hands, followed closely by a thin woman whose eyes were filled with murderous intent. A whip was coiled in the woman's hands.
Annie must have seen the way he tensed.
"Ragnar, please." She whispered, nearly hissing at him. "Not here."
The woman had corralled the little girl, her whip unwinding.
"I'll teach you to steal from me, helot!"
Ragnar grunted as the whip flashed out, his mind flashing back to his boyhood in Vanirheim. To the men, no, the monsters, who had taken advantage of the distance between the frontier city and the capital to keep men and women as chattel. They'd used whips nearly identical to the one this bitch was using.
That was when he looked up, finally seeing what he had not seen before. The men and women wearing clothes made of fine cloth and textiles. And the others, wearing rough spun, some wearing little more than loincloths. The haves and the have nots. Slaves and their masters.
"Ragnar, many men are slaves, some to other men, some to their own hearts. It is up to you to free them."
Ragnar shook his head to dispel that hurtful memory, from his childhood, as he and Luigi watched a pair of men walk by, dragging the corpse of their brother. He'd been a slave, who'd been found in bed with his master's daughter. He'd been sentenced to death by the whip, by the old governor of Vanirheim. Ragnar had not been of age at the time, so he'd been forced to sit by, watching as the man was ripped to bloody pieces by the whip.
The whip cracked against skin, the little girl crying out. But it was not her skin that was struck bloody. Instead the strike landed in the palm of a large man, tall, with the lanky limbs and thick wrists of a swordfighter, wearing the long tunic that seemed to be the standard dress for Hannibal. Though his was deep purple in color, and lined with golden edging.
"Glenda," The newcomer said, as his hand steamed, "Do you wish to anger the city guard? You know that whipping another's helots is against the law. And for shame! You cursed the view of our returning hero!"
Ragnar didn't like the man immediately. The way his eyes hung upon Annie…
"Marcus, this little…" The woman started up immediately, but the man held up a hand. Ragnar noted that the wound on his palm had already healed.
A powerful shifter…
"No more of that! You, girl," He waved his hand at the little girl, "Go back to your master, and bring no more trouble down upon yourself or face the wrath of Marcus Ursa."
She ran off, her tiny feet slapping against the paving stones as Marcus approached them, coming to stop between Annie and Ragnar's horses. Ragnar watched as he took in the sight of Eren in chains.
"So this is the coordinate?" He said, green eyes narrowing, "He's just a boy? And who are your friends, Leonhardt?"
"Allies of mine." Annie said, fingers drumming in agitation, "Now I'm guessing you were sent by the Council to lead us to them. Lead away."
Marcus smiled as he turned and began to walk away, and Ragnar felt the urge to strike him, but held back as Annie cast a knowing eye towards him.
Be careful of him. She was trying to say to him.
Ragnar nodded and gritted his teeth as their horses clopped along behind him, heading for a large open area. A large amphitheater dominated the space, built into the side of the hill that they were riding towards. It was already full of people, men and women dressed in different colored tunics. Those at the top wore red tunics as Marcus wore, those in the second tier wore purple with golden edges, and the third and closest wore longer tunics in purest white.
In front of these men and women, the 'Council', they were led. Marcus gestured to them to dismount from their horses. They complied, with Eleanor lifting Eren from the saddle in a thinly veiled show of strength, then they walked up the marble lined steps that led into the pit of the amphitheater. As they reached a certain point, every one of the Councilors stood, a rippling mass of color. Ragnar was glad of his hood, for he knew that many of those eyes were doing their best to drill directly through his skull.
The man closest to them, wearing a white tunic, stepped forward, and inclined his head towards Annie.
"Welcome home, Warrior Leonhardt." He began, "And congratulations on your successful mission."
Ragnar turned his head slightly, so he could watch Annie's reaction out of the corner of his eye. She was bright red, and he could see her hands shaking. The amphitheater erupted with applause, though it was restrained.
She flashed an eye towards him, and all he could sense was her fear. Her thoughts seemed to be in a jumble, a chaos of words and memories, of pain. Her lips moved slowly and deliberately, mouthing a single word towards him.
Father.
Annie faltered as she saw those cold, familiar eyes gazing at her. They were currently filled with pride, but she knew their blue could change at any moment into a hellish sea of fury.
Having Ragnar here was steadying her, she'd likely have fled already or done something equally foolish.
"You, alone, I might add," The speaker, Julius Drakos, said, "Completed your mission, and brought back the Coordinate. I must ask though, who are your allies?"
Stick with the plan, don't mention anything about Jotunheim. She thought to herself. We don't know how much they know.
"They are from east of the Walls," She lied, keeping her face totally passive, "They assisted me in the capture of the Coordinate."
Ragnar and Eleanor pulled back their hoods, revealing their faces for the first time. A low murmur escaped the crowd, but no one denounced her right out. She hoped that no one recognized Ragnar based on his similarities to his father.
"Then we welcome them as well," He continued a moment later, as his eyes darted to Ragnar's face, "Marcus? Would be so kind as to remove the Coordinate from our presence?"
Marcus bowed, and with a rather friendly hand, led Eren away.
When he was gone, another man stepped forward. He had not been a member of the Council when Annie had been sent on her mission.
"Annie Leonhardt," He said, "You have now completed your mission. Consider yourself a member of the Myrmidons from this point onwards. You… and your allies, I suppose, shall be immediately escorted to the Black Acropolis, where you shall be officially inducted."
Ah… He's the new Praetor.
A dozen warriors appeared around them, and without another word ushered them away to a waiting group of horses.
"What the hell do you man, open the gates?"
Adam smiled at the Garrison officer who was looking at him with a shocked expression. His two comrades and he, the only soldiers still manning the outer gate of the Karanese District. The others had been sent on a mission to quell some 'rebels', nothing but a wild goose chase in the end.
But now I need to get this gate open. For whatever purpose Lars has set out to complete, I will help fulfill. And there is that reward he dangled in front of my face to think of as well.
"I believe I said, 'Open the gate immediately'. Will you comply?"
The tall Garrison Squad Leader looked taken aback, his eyes widening as the rest of Adam's men filed in, their red jackets immaculate.
"I cannot in good faith open the gates," He finally said, hand tightening on his rifle, "There are people living here, man! Why would I open them?"
"Because I ordered you too. Now, pay for your insubordination!"
A shot rang out, followed closely by the screams of the Garrison soldiers, as they were cut down. Adam growled, looking at the slowly spreading stain of blood coming from his right arm. It had only nicked him, but it was annoying that he hadn't been quite fast enough to avoid the Squad Leaders telegraphed movements.
"What are you orders, Deputy Commander?"
"Open the damn gates, and let's get the hell out of here."
"Annie!"
Ragnar turned as a pair of voices called out, and the sounds of pounding feet on the stones echoed about. Two men were jogging towards them, both tall, though one was taller than the other. The tall one had brown hair, while the other, brawnier one had hair a few shades lighter than his own.
"Reiner? Bertoldt? What are you doing here?" Annie said, "I thought they would have locked you up for your failure."
The blonde one stopped a few feet away, scratching the back of his head. A wry smile crept across his face.
"Well, they were happy that we brought Ymir back," He said, "Apparently a lot happier than we thought they'd be."
Ymir… Ragnar tensed, wanting to know more, but deciding against blurting anything out. Annie had insisted that she trust him, and let her do what she was good at.
'Intelligence Gathering', as she put it.
He pulled a small necklace from around his neck, a simple golden pendant. The symbol of a Myrmidon.
"They've had us running errands for the Praetor though, doing fucking paperwork," He said, as the taller man just stared at Annie, "Those bandits that live even further to the south in the ice fields have been getting rowdy… Hey, who are they?"
Ragnar had fallen behind Annie, and for the first time noticed that he was glaring at the two men, a scowl frozen to his face. Eleanor was to his right, adjusting her sword belt.
"They're Ragnar," Annie pointed at him, than Eleanor, "And Eleanor. They're some friends I picked up after I escaped."
"We heard about your capture," The tall one said, "That they were… torturing you. Why didn't you crystalize yourself? Like you used to do when we were younger?"
Ah… her old friends. Ragnar thought. The ones who accompanied Annie on her mission.
"I couldn't," Annie said quickly, heading to the room that their escorts had pointed them towards, "They weakened me. Now, we were told to meet with the Master of the Black Acropolis, so we must be going."
As she walked by, her hand reached out and gripped Ragnar's forearm, pulling him the opposite direction that they were supposed to be going.
Ragnar looked over his shoulder, seeing the two warrior's eyes narrowing.
I miss home. The Walls and this place are like snake pits. No matter who you meet, they're as likely to bite you as to not!