Chapter Three: Night of Knives
Everywhere I travelled over the next few days, people were talking about the Khans' tournament and the alliance between Ylisse and Regna Ferox. There were as many differing opinions as people in some of the villages I passed through. Naturally, most of them were far from the truth.
I had decided not to take any further action until the night of Emmeryn's assassination, at least not directly. Instead, I roamed across much of Regna Ferox before re-crossing the border back into Ylisse. My hope had been that I would pick up on a trail that might lead me to find my lost comrades, the ones who had travelled through the Rift with me. Even if they had appeared in totally different places, at least a few of them should have been spat out by now.
To my chagrin, I heard nothing that would indicate the presence of one of my friends. It wasn't until I'd wandered for days fruitlessly that I realized that I was unlikely to find any traces of them, even if they had appeared in this time. It wasn't as though they would go around claiming to be from the future, at least not right away. Risen were suddenly appearing all over the world, and there was no telling which of them might have been brought here by the Rift.
Frustrated, I stayed close to Ylisstol with my ears to the ground hoping to catch anything that might be of help. Even though I was all but certain that Chrom and Emmeryn would be in no danger until the predetermined time, I still felt hesitant about wandering away again.
At the very least, I did manage to make some progress investigating the stranger I'd seen twice now with my father. He went by the name Destin, and if the rumors were to be believed then Chrom had found him lying unconscious in a field in the south of Ylisse. He claimed to have no memory of his life until that moment, although there was no way to determine the veracity of that particular statement. I was inclined to believe it; it would explain the look of helplessness I'd seen in his eyes the night I'd arrived in the past.
Either way, my father had more or less drafted this Destin into the Shepherds. He was already proving to be one of their most useful members despite having been around for less than two weeks. I had already seen that he was skilled in both swordplay and sorcery, and it seemed that he was an aspiring tactician as well. One thing on which all the rumors agreed was that he had my father's full confidence, giving him a powerful benefactor within Ylisse.
Knowing all of this only solidified my desire to prevent his death as well as the others. Regardless of the circumstances in which he would fall, Destin would make a useful ally in the fight to prevent Grima's return if I could keep him alive.
The day of the assassination dawned dull and overcast. Emmeryn, Chrom, and the Shepherds had departed Ylisstol yesterday, heading for the border with Plegia. News of a conflict there and the capture of Maribelle, a member of the Shepherds who was also the daughter of a prestigious noble family, by Plegian soldiers had brought them out to meet with Gangrel. But the Mad King had no interest in reparations or compromises. He wanted a war, and a war was exactly what he would get.
There would be a modest skirmish between the Shepherds and the Plegians, at the end of which Emmeryn and her escort would return to Ylisstol. While they were still grappling with the fact that they were at war once again, the Grimleal would strike. Without my intervention, Emmeryn would be killed and my father gravely injured – a wound that would later contribute to his downfall.
I'd considered the merits of attempting to hunt down some of the Grimleal before they made their move to reduce the number of potential enemies, but I eventually discarded the notion as impractical. The Grimleal were adept at hiding amongst normal people, and would not show any signs of suspicious activity until they were ready to strike. I would have difficulty being certain that anyone I found was really a cultist. It seemed my only option was to stop the assassination while it was in progress.
A general malaise had settled over Ylisstol. Whether it was the unknown presence of the Grimleal among them or the Exalt's absence, people throughout the city were on edge and much less friendly than they'd been a few days ago. It lifted only slightly with Emmeryn's return later in the day; she and her escort headed straight for the palace and didn't stop to chat.
As the sun set and darkness descended on the city, I knew that the time to act had come. The gates to the palace were guarded, of course, but I knew of a secret way in. There was a cleft in the stone wall surrounding the palace training ground, left there from when Chrom had damaged it while drilling the Shepherds. It was virtually unnoticeable from the outside, but I had seen the crack in the wall in my future and Lissa had told me of its origins.
I didn't encounter anyone else until I had reached the courtyard leading in to the palace on this side. Two figures were standing outside the door talking. I hid in a nearby clump of bushes and edged in closer. The figures turned out to be Chrom and Destin.
"…I don't claim to know how she does it," my father was saying. "I could never return such hostility with warmth and patience. While the people of Ylisse vilified her, she reached out and healed them. She ended the war and brought the soldiers home to their families. And when Ylisse's spirit was mended and the people 'forgave' her, she never once resented them for it. She represents the best of the Halidom – the part most worth protecting."
I knew that he was speaking of Emmeryn. I had heard the whole of the sorry tale from Lissa among others. Emmeryn and Chrom's father, the previous Exalt, had been a crazed tyrant who had brought both Plegia and Ylisse to ruination in a terrible war before his death. Much of Plegia's current hostility towards Ylisse was born of the mere memory of the man and the things he'd done. I still don't fully understand how the three children of such a monster turned out to be among the most righteous and kind people in the world.
"Some men would take advantage of her. Men like Gangrel." Chrom grew agitated, his hand closing into a fist. "The day he understands peace will be the day death gives it to him. So perhaps I must be death's agent. Emmeryn will never order him killed, nor would I wish her to. I will accept the stain on my soul if I must, so that hers might remain pure."
Instinct told me that the moment had arrived. I left my cover and approached the two men. "Well spoken," I said as they turned to face me. I meant it. Chrom's sentiment was correct, and reinforced the impression I already had of him.
"Marth…" Chrom was understandably surprised by my appearance. "How did you get in here unannounced?"
"A flaw in the wall behind the maple grove," I replied. "I'm certain you know of it."
"Yes, but how did you find out about…? Ugh. Never mind. Why are you here?"
"To warn you," I said. At such an important juncture, I didn't have the luxury of acting subtly. It was time to cast the die, for good or ill. "If I told you I knew what tomorrow holds in store, would you believe me? If I said that I had seen a future in which Exalt Emmeryn would die this very night?"
"You claim to have seen the future?" Chrom demanded irritably. "Have you lost your wits?"
"It's only natural for you to be skeptical," I said. A slight rustling in the bushes to our left gave away what was coming. It was only a small sound, easily ignored, but I already knew what would happen here. "So allow me to prove it!" I placed one hand on Falchion's hilt, preparing to draw. Chrom did likewise; it seemed he thought that I was going to attack him.
"What are you-"
The assassin and I moved simultaneously. A shadowy figure darted from the bushes towards Chrom, the wickedly serrated dagger in his hand flashing in the dim torchlight. I leapt forwards at an angle that took me past my father, drawing Falchion and slashing out the instant my foot touched the ground. My blade sheared through the assassin's throat when he was less than a foot away from my father, unleashing a spray of blood. His knife dropped from lifeless fingers and clattered to the cobblestones.
"Saving your life," I said, turning back to face Chrom and Destin. "Do you still doubt me?"
My eyes widened in surprise behind the mask when a second rustling sound came from behind me. I couldn't believe I'd been so stupid; of course there'd be another assassin! I tried to turn to meet him, but I already knew that I was far too late.
Destin reacted faster than me and threw his full weight into me, knocking me roughly to one side. The assassin's sword slashed down diagonally, directly where my skull would have been otherwise. He didn't miss entirely, even then – the very tip of his blade cut through the thin metal of my mask, slicing it in two almost straight down the center. The severed halves fell to the ground along with me.
The assassin pulled his sword back for a quick thrust, but once again Destin proved faster. Without time to draw his own sword, he instead brought his left hand up and unleashed a burst of fire directly into his attacker's face. The man flew backwards from the force of the spell with smoke rising from underneath his hood.
Chrom pounced on the beleaguered assassin with Falchion already drawn. He landed on the man's back and thrust straight through his heart, killing him instantly. My father quickly withdrew his blade and leapt to his feet, searching the darkened courtyard for more assailants. None appeared.
I used the time in which Chrom and Destin were busy looking for assassins to get to my feet. Somehow, I felt exposed without my mask. Its severing had also snapped the tie I'd been using to bind my hair, which now fell in waves over the back of my neck. So much for that deception, I thought morosely. Chrom and Destin came back then, stopping in front of me.
"You're a… woman?" Chrom asked.
I gave a most unladylike snort. "I thought you'd figure it out sooner," I replied. "It's not important right now. There are more of them, and the Exalt's life is in danger."
My father looked at me oddly, and for a moment I thought he still didn't believe me. Then an alarmed shout from the higher levels of the palace claimed his attention. It seemed that the idea of his sister in mortal peril was enough to clear away any other priorities.
"Right," he said.
The three of us sprinted into the palace. Somehow Chrom managed to bellow for the Shepherds to defend the Exalt even as we were running down the hall and up the stairs that would take us to Emmeryn's level. We burst through the door into an antechamber right next to the Exalt's room, finding several of the Shepherds already there with weapons drawn.
"Chrom!" Stahl called, hurrying over to meet us. "We're under attack!"
"I know," Chrom replied. "They're assassins, here to murder Exalt Emmeryn."
"Plegians?" Several more of the Shepherds arrived behind us.
"I don't know. We have to defend her. If we can just last long enough, the city militia will be roused and they'll sweep the palace like a flood. Destin?"
"On it," Destin replied, touching one hand to his forehead and adopting a look of concentration. "There are only three ways in here: the two main halls to either side and the staircase we just used. Sully, Stahl, Ricken, Maribelle, and Virion will cover the left side hall. Vaike, Miriel, and Frederick will take the staircase. Chrom, Lissa, Kellam, Sumia, Lon'qu, and I will watch the right hall. Keep your ears open for further orders, and hold tightly to the Exalt's quarters. Don't let them lure you out."
The Shepherds nodded and moved off to their assigned tasks. I was shocked. I'd always thought of my father as the leader of the Shepherds, but they were all taking orders from Destin like they'd been doing it forever. I didn't know enough about tactics to judge his deployments, though they seemed logical enough. It was just jarring to see him take command so easily. It seemed I had underestimated this man.
"And me?" I asked from behind him.
He turned to face me, and instantly a grin formed on his face. "I'm afraid you're not part of my chain of command, milady. If you're volunteering, however, kindly guard the door to the Exalt's room. If anyone slips past the defensive groups it'll be up to you to stop them."
"As you like," I said. "Oh, and one other thing. You're going to see a taguel, a beastlike woman, joining the fight. She isn't our enemy. Her name is Panne, and she only came here to honor a debt to Exalt Emmeryn."
"I'll see to it that she doesn't get stabbed, at least not by us. If you'll excuse me." He took a very slight bow and then walked off to join Chrom's group.
I watched Destin go with conflicted feelings. It was the strangest thing; his manner and tone had been just shy of mocking, yet he'd given me the most important task of any of us. He knew next to nothing about me aside from the little I'd revealed, yet he trusted me with the Exalt's life. I hadn't forgotten that he'd already risked his life tonight to save mine. What was his game?
The next twenty minutes were, I admit, a bit nerve-wracking for me. Even though not a single assassin got past the Shepherds, it was difficult to just stand there at the door while the sounds of battle echoed from all directions. Groups of attackers clashed with the Shepherds at each of the three entrances, but the defensive groups held strong. The enemy attempted to lure our fighters further out into the hall, just as Destin predicted they would, but they had no success.
Finally, it was over. With no one speaking to me directly, I had to learn what I could from snippets of conversation between the Shepherds. Chrom and Destin had cornered and killed the man they believed to be the assassins' leader. A number of the attackers had not been Grimleal at all, but rather common thugs and thieves lured in with the promise of gold. These had scattered once things started to go wrong, and one had actually switched sides once he realized they were here to murder the Exalt. Apparently Chrom had bribed the man as well – with candy. Well, I suppose it takes all sorts.
With the threat passed, I took the opportunity to leave. Despite what I had revealed to Chrom tonight, there were still too many questions I couldn't answer at this point. Without the mask to cover my face any conversation with my father was potentially dangerous – he could not be allowed to see the Brand of the Exalt in my left eye yet. I snuck back to the crack in the wall undetected, but…
"You've a bad habit of leaving without saying goodbye," Chrom said, emerging from the shadow of the wall.
"I'm afraid I have many bad habits," I said lightly. I turned my head at such an angle that he wouldn't be able to get a good look at my left eye.
"But you've also saved my life, as well as those of both of my sisters. I don't know what I can do to repay you."
"The knowledge that I've righted a terrible wrong is reward enough," I replied. "History has been rewritten for the better."
"And the future we just averted?"
"Dreadful beyond your wildest dreams. With the Exalt dead and the Fire Emblem stolen, mankind would have been pulled into a ruinous war and eventually brought to its own destruction." Better not to mention Grima just yet.
"I can believe it," Chrom said. "Despite your actions, we may still be closer to that than you or I would like. Nevertheless, I thank you. I feel like I can trust you, and I hope that a day comes when I can repay you for what you've done."
"I'll look forward to that day, then." I slipped through the cleft and in seconds I was back out on the dark streets of Ylisstol.
I stopped to take one long look back at the palace, which was now swarming with activity as guards searched the premises thoroughly for any signs of further assassins. I hadn't shown it, but my father saying that he trusted me had made me feel proud. There had always been something missing from my life in my own world, but fate had given me this chance to know my father as I never could have before.
The future had been changed. All that remained was to see where the flow of time would take us to next.