15. CROSS SWORDS

Upon the end of their journey, the camels were running at a quarter the speed they'd started but they returned to the main camp before sundown. Violet thought at least a few others would've beaten them there but her and Zann were the first back, which unfortunately meant she got to see firsthand the shock and then grief of their first greeters as the situation was explained to them.

"We must gather everyone," Zann said as he dismounted. "War is upon us."

Violet clambered off after him and stumbled as the blood flowed back into her legs. Their tired camels were led by other illagers to their spot with the other animals. Violet followed after Zann's back as he strode quickly down the cave to their spartan communal area. Children and others began crowding to celebrate his return, but he forced himself through them until getting to one of the round boulders used for announcements. He stepped up it and those around saw him and began climbing down to gather, murmurings spreading through their numbers.

"Listen all! We doth not have time to wait on everyone's return, I must make preparations immediately! But know this: we are now at war with the western tribe! They attempted an ambush at our meet and failed." The people were mostly silent once Zann spoke, and now all lingering murmurs were deadened. "They had the element of surprise, but with our potions and teamwork we fought 'em off and prevailed. Now we shall slaughter 'em and claim their territory for ourselves! Now, we go to war!" He raised his arm and the crowd emphatically raised their arms and emitted a crescendo that was between a cheer and a roar.

Violet could only stare. They hadn't wanted war, but now that it was upon them they seemed keen for it anyway. Zann stepped off the rock and beelined away, most likely to the aviary, which Violet hadn't yet seen, to ready the messages by hawk that'd call his remaining spies home.

In the following hours the caves were bustling with activity. More weapons and armour were getting smelted, and equipment readied. The straw weaving women worked faster to get their baskets done, they also made satchels and belts to assist the soldiers on their journey. Tiril doubled her focus on cooking and keeping the tribe well fed. The extra activity and perhaps nerves was burning up more energy.

The others from their former travelling party, and the spies Violet hadn't met were returning in groups of two, even after dark.

Violet drifted about by herself in a lonesome part of the cave, stepping down and climbing up the giant boulders by the far wall. Her hair was tangled and free, her body smeared with sand and cave dirt. She turned her head to see everyone working below; there was a pit in her stomach. It was the feeling she used to get before a big exam, only in this instance she was anticipating bloody war. She turned away again and stared at the top of a waterfall-flowing source cube, she slowed to a stop. Now she was contemplating it - war. A terrible thing, evidently. But instead of senseless, the more she considered life in this unbounded world that was so raw and true, she saw it as inevitable.

Wasn't liberty and democracy a beautiful thing, then? In civilised Arcacia she'd always seen it as something corrupt, full of underhanded greed and cloak-and-dagger tactics. But being a part of Enim now, it seemed like something beautiful and out of reach, exactly like a dream.

Later Violet climbed a ladder to one of the spaces cut into the cave wall, and she got some sleep in a hammock. She was woken up by someone calling her name. She knew that voice, and it was odd to hear it speaking softly.

"Violet, art thou awake?" Jarmila whispered.

She wiped her face and sat up, "I am now…"

"Thou were talking in thy sleep."

Of course. "What's up?"

Jarmila regarded her oddly and again Violet wondered what was going on with her. She stared a few seconds more.

"Follow me. I wish to show thee something."

Violet felt uncertain at once. Jarmila beckoned and turned away. It was the closest she'd ever come to sounding genial, but Violet was still nervous at the thought of being alone with Jarmila. After a long hesitation she forced herself to climb out of the hammock and follow her down the laddering. Jarmila was moving confidently toward the cave's entrance, Violet picked up her pace and followed from a few steps behind. Outside was the pink-orange of a new morning. Jarmila walked past a guard slouching against the wall, asleep. Violet eyed him before following Jarmila out and around.

Jarmila was climbing up the short sand dune that the cave cut into. Violet stopped at the slope and called out, "What is this about?"

Jarmila stopped and looked back, now a few metres ahead, "Tis something I want to show thee, concerning our people." That piqued the curiosity of the cultural researcher within Violet. "A special monument."

Violet didn't move for a moment, until finally she took another step, then another, and resumed their little jaunt. When she was close again Jarmila turned and resumed leading her. It sounded like, if Violet might end up fighting alongside them Jarmila wanted her to understand them more deeply.

"Is this about your ancestors?" Violet asked, partially because she wanted more reassurance.

"'Tis."

Over the dune was the ruins of a village. There were no signs of blood or fighting, because these ruins were ancient. Most buildings were missing all but one of their walls, sanded down by the decay of time. They stepped between them. Some sheets blew gently in the wind, old banners or curtains with many holes, they were white but somewhat greyed by age. Patchy shade passed over them as they walked. The new morning was as hot as midday in most other biomes. Violet looked around, this could be a training area, or where the children come to play, but there was nothing around that looked especially mystical.

Jarmila stopped by the old well and Violet did too, her instincts screaming at her.

"Before I show it to thee, thou must prove thyself once more." A sword appeared in Jarmila's hand and she tossed it. Violet's arm whipped out and after the slightest fumble, she had it in hand.

"We've trained plenty of times, why now?"

Jarmila gave a mean smirk and readied her serrated blade.

Violet felt her hands getting sweaty, "And why aren't we using wooden swords?"

"Are thou loyal to us, prisoner?"

"...yes."

Jarmila's face inexplicably turned monstrous and she screamed, "Then why dost Zann have that cut on his neck!" She lunged with a deadly swing that Violet blocked. The added weight of the metal was different, this clanging was not the wooden whacks of previous battles. At once Violet's fears were confirmed without much surprise.

She stepped away, stumbled on a rock and righted herself. They were circling each other.

Violet tried to remember all the combat advice she'd ever been given, but all her brain wanted to do was haze over with panic. Jarmila's eyes held murderous intent.

There was no ancestral monument. And this was no practice. And that guard hadn't been asleep, drugged possibly. This was a set up to cover Violet's murder. Jarmila knew exactly what to say to lead Violet out here, even though she'd been scared to follow. And Jarmila had of course known she would be but arranged things to get what she wanted anyway. It was so Jarmila.

Violet seized her courage. Even if fighting Jarmila felt like going up against a wild beast, there was still that hatred inside her that switched on every time they fought.

"This isn't about me cutting Zann's neck," Violet murmured as they continued their circling. "You're doing this because you're in love with Zann."

Jarmila's sneer curled back, eyes burning as she lunged with a lethal slash. Violet jumped away and it clanged against rubble. Violet ran around the slab and away. The curtains fluttered and she went around a corner of rubble and pressed her back against it, tried steadying her breathing.

Violet listened….

She heard a rock rustle to her left. Violet turned the other way instead, because Jarmila would never be that loud. Sure enough her weapon sailed through and cut the space where Violet's neck had been just a moment before. Violet sprang back to keep some distance.

"You really think you'll fool Zann with this?" Violet tried. "He ordered that I not be harmed."

"Thou are working him with thy manipulations, trying to seduce!"

Violet floundered for a second, "Y-you're all a different species to me!"

"Exactly!" She roared and swung, their blades clashed loud enough to be painful. Violet tried again to welcome the harshness of fighting instead of recoiling from it. "Thou art a temptress, a lying wench!" Jarmila's shrill voice was almost as painful to hear as their colliding steel.

Violet lost her footing under a hard swing. Jarmila's eyes brightened on her chance to end it with one more blow, but Violet spun back around a corner and Jarmila's blade hit that instead. Violet took several more steps of distance and tried to control her breathing.

Jarmila didn't pursue. Then she lunged out from the proximate building, through the fluttering banner at Violet's side. Violet turned, narrowly missing the strike. Jarmila spat, a nasty trick that got Violet's cheek and blurred her right eye. But it still wasn't enough to throw Violet off. They parried more and Violet turned into a crumbled building before wiping her face clear. The walls were all gone, just a low broken border they could spring over. Jarmila stalked in the doorway after her.

Giving Violet a sword was just to make it seem like Violet was the one to snap and attack. Or, Jarmila had wanted the fight to draw out killing her.

Seek any advantage, Sagan could've been behind her and speaking those words. That was how real her unhinged mind made it sound. A feint, a rock, some sand - there wasn't enough time to think. Jarmila charged. Violet backed up and jumped so she was atop the broken wall. Jarmila's eyes flashed with uncertainty and Violet felt her fear slip away again. She was full of that same darkness as the pit on her darkest night, and knew death, not even a slow death if Jarmila had her way, could compare to that suffering. She couldn't fear death in that moment because she'd already died, and in little ways she died a few times every day since then. So she leapt over and arced her sword and Jarmila tried raising her arm to block but hadn't anticipated the sudden acrobatics. A line slashed across Jarmila's face, blood gushed from the bridge of her nose.

Jarmila shrieked. Violet hit the sandstone floor with her side and felt the air whoosh out of her lungs. She couldn't catch her breath for a moment but she forced herself up, gasping. Jarmila's vision was obscured. She whipped around furiously, wiping at the blood a second time but she couldn't keep it from obstructing her.

Violet took careful steps back as Jarmila stepped forward, seeming wilder than she ever had before.

"Thou won't have him!"

Jarmila charged again and Violet braced. They parried once, twice, and then on the third swing Jarmila winced, her left eye unable to see through her blood and it stalled her. Violet knew this was it a fraction of a second before her wide swing connected. Then her sword sliced across Jarmila's middle and blood sprayed.

Dizzily, Jarmila crashed backward, falling over the crumbled wall with her legs left hanging there. Violet immediately dropped her sword, then staggered away until she was leaning against a slab. Jarmila's legs stayed put and she didn't try getting up. Violet dropped down to the ground. She was broken, frightened, upset… but vindicated.

When her breathing finally started to slow she looked away from Jarmila's legs. Instead she gazed upward and thought of Meliora and baby Allium, this time without agony ripping through her chest. There was a rare cloud above, a small puffy one probably blown over from the sea. Violet closed her eyes softly and gave herself the moment before then trying to figure out what she should do next.

There was no getting around it. She had to return to camp and face the others.

So Violet climbed up and then started her lone walk out of the ruins. She stepped out from the worn sandstone slabs and fluttering banners, then made her way down the slope, around to the entryway and past the sleeping guard. When illagers looked up and saw Violet they did a double-take because she had blood - Jarmila's blood - splashed out over her middle. They rushed over and Violet was left stuttering as she tried to explain.

"Th-the guard was drugged by Jarmila. She told me to follow her and then she tried to kill me." Violet limply indicated behind her and some rushed to the slumped fellow. The others watched her with more scrutiny. "...I killed her."

"Jarmila's dead?" Several were alarmed.

One asked, "If Jarmila wanted to kill thee, how did thee end up the victor?"

"She was trying to frame me, I think. Make it look like I attacked her."

They stared at each other, and Violet was realising how bad this actually looked. It didn't take long for Zann to be told and he came storming over, looking alarmed. Jarmila had been his right hand.

"Jarmila's dead?" Zann was looking at Violet.

"I… didn't want to." The tears were back.

"She was one of our best fighters." An illager off to the side commented, obviously thinking this was awful timing with a war on their doorstep. Most of the faces were highly distrusting, but Violet couldn't even read Zann's. He went to the guard who was being coaxed awake by his fellows, blinking blearily.

"Hey, wake up. Did thou see anything?"

The guard recognised his captain, that same loyalty brightening his features, "Zann?"

Violet clenched her fists, "Your last meal or drink was given to you, wasn't it?" The guard looked at her tiredly and Zann didn't move. "It was given by Jarmila, wasn't it?"

"...It was one of the children."

Violet internally cursed. "Then Jarmila told them to."

"We shall get to the truth of this," Zann said to the guard, still not turning around. Violet lost her voice at that moment. "Ye both will take this man to lie down." The guard was carried off by an illager on each side. Zann still wasn't looking at her and his voice sounded hard, "Violet." She couldn't make herself respond. "Where is Jarmila?"

She forced herself to speak, her tone weak: "Over the dune… at the far edge of the ruins…"

Zann left without another word and a few men followed after him. Violet edged her way back in and sat down where everyone could see her. The news about Jarmila began to spread, leading to outrage and shock. Violet twisted her fingers together and just waited for Zann's return, feeling unsure about everything.

They would find Jarmila lying backwards, her knees bent over that crumbled wall. Would they weep? Violet didn't think so. She could imagine them standing around for a while, processing, or silently praying - whatever this tribe did for their dead. They'd move her body. But would she be carried into the cave, or would a ceremony be too somber of a distraction while a war was on the way? Everyone around her was still busying about, only with a little less certainty it seemed.

When Violet looked up a while later it was at Sagan, frowning at her.

"Follow hither."

She nodded, resigned, and got up to follow him to Zann's quarters. Once again she was the target of suspicious stares. Right back to square one. They walked down the cramped corridor to the red door. Sagan knocked twice and walked right on in. Violet's eyes moved automatically to where her crystal ball sat perched on the shelf. Then she looked at the various pairs of eyes all watching her.

"Inger said that thou saved him when we fought at that village. Nedi told of thee killing an enemy archer before they could shoot at us." Zann spoke while seated at his desk, he looked tired. "And yet, to have gone from that to this."

"The last thing I'd have wanted was to weaken our side before the war's even started!" Violet slipped rather automatically into using 'our'.

"Thou also held a sword to mine throat and attempted to rob me before not going along with it."

It felt like a betrayal somehow. Zann had told everyone there about a vulnerable moment that felt like it should be kept private between them. Sagan, Bronis, Nedi and two other illagers were here and didn't look surprised, so it'd already been discussed.

Violet felt herself darken, "...I also saved you from dying of infection, so let's not forget that," she muttered.

Bronis turned, leaning his head toward Zann and sounding surprisingly reasonable, "It does sound like Jarmila, after all. She always had little tolerance for outsiders."

"Jarmila was loyal to our tribe," Zann spoke coldly. "She would not hast killed our potion maker now of all times, and risked us losing the coming conflict."

Violet stared at him with some measure of outrage. He'd trusted her more than most, and now Zann was going to act like Violet was successful in luring away Jarmila of all people, and killed her?

"It's because she loved you!"

The room was quiet at her declaration. Zann's jutting brow crinkled, he became very tense.

"All others leave." Zann ordered, sounding very angry. They obeyed and soon it was just the two of them, but Violet stared at him determinedly until he looked up at her. "Thou dost not know Jarmila, she was our most loyal."

"She was loyal to you because she loved you!"

"Enough!"

Violet continued anyway, "She couldn't bear it when we were alone because she was jealous of what we have!"

"...what in the nether are thou referring to?"

"Our connection."

"Violet, we hath no connection. Thee are our prisoner here."

Rejection stung hot, and she didn't know why. Her eyes teared up again. She'd said as much before to Jarmila, hadn't she? They weren't even the same species. Then why did she feel such a profound loss?

Stockholm syndrome, right? But it'd seemed so real, she was sure something was between them. Maybe that's just what Zann did, how his charisma worked: he made everyone feel special but their only real value was utility.

Zann watched her, deliberating and unsure. He composed himself.

"We don't have time to investigate this or put thee on trial now. War is upon us, but we must ensure no more deaths happen before we lead the charge west. Violet, thee are to be confined again. It will be larger than thy old room, but until this can be sorted thou must not leave without a guide to watch thee."

She was staring bitterly at the floor, but nodded.

"Thou may go. Sagan will be waiting to escort thee."

Violet left wordlessly. As she closed the door after her, she saw through the crack as Zann was dragging both hands down his face. Upset about Jarmila, even if he was trying to hide it. There was that sense of loss again...

The room Violet stayed in was three times larger, so it was easier to practise fighting - solo, at least. Better than vying with herself for the tribe's acceptance, that venture had always been a hamster wheel. When Violet was escorted to lunch the next day she noticed their numbers were gradually increasing as the true total of their tribe was assembling. Now there was likely over forty illagers in the cave. Violet sat to eat with Sagan and nobody else came close to talk to her, though many shot furtive glances her way. She thought she could make out some of the whispers.

"Was it unwise to teach her how to fight after all. But how could she hast beaten Jarmila?"

"Surely 'twas not a fair fight."

They were right, of course. Violet shouldn't have been able to beat Jarmila. If Jarmila had thought there was even a chance of her losing she wouldn't have given her a sword. It must've been a mix of Jarmila being emotional, luck, Violet's crazy lack of fear at the end that allowed her to try something that caught even Jarmila by surprise. But also, there'd been a need for vengeance within her, just a certainty that someone so terrible had to die. Did that make her a killer in a truer sense?

Sagan led Violet back to her room afterwards. She was then training by herself for several minutes before he finally stepped in and a wooden sword appeared in his hand.

"You still want to help me train?" Violet asked.

"If thee are to fight on our side, we may as well both train together."

Violet felt somewhat touched, though it was hampered by her depression. "You believe I didn't want to kill Jarmila, right?"

He hesitated, entrenched in their loyalist groupthink. The cloud in Violet thickened.

"Violet, thou have remained quite difficult for us to predict. However… if the captain deems you be innocent, I will hast no reservations against thee either."

Violet thought that over, then nodded. She readied her sword and so did he - they started to train.

It was the next day, before midday when trouble came to them. The spies from the furthest villages had still not returned, but from the western outpost a couple of camels were spotted speeding over and waving a red banner. The other illager tribe was here.

Of course, since war had conceivably been their intention for a while, they'd gathered and mobilised much faster after the initial ambush failed. They'd lost numbers because of it, and conversely Violet's side didn't have full numbers and they were missing one of their best fighters. This war would be fought on home ground; it was an invasion. There was a rabble of both urgency and eagerness, energised by a group productivity of aggregate tasks. Violet raced out of the room she'd been confined to, nobody was watching her now and no one cared. A sense of all formalities being abandoned prevailed. She looked around wildly and there was Zann standing to address them all.

"The time is upon us! The war is on our doorstep! Ye won't wot their numbers until we face 'em on the desert! But no matter what, we shall fight and show no mercy!"

The roars of all the men made Violet cringe and almost cover her ears. Children who looked much too small to fight were taking swords and armour for themselves. And the children even younger, who absolutely couldn't fight, were running around carrying things for the soldiers and helping everyone prepare.

"Violet," she turned and saw Bronis in chainmail, "Follow hither and receive thy armour."

Her mouth was dry as she followed him to a small room.

He helped her strap the pieces on when her hands became clumsy. How strange it felt to be dressed like a child just to kill like a man. The armour felt almost impractical in its heaviness. But it was hard to think through anything, so she was just going through the motions like everyone else seemed to be doing.

"Violet, thou must master thy fear. We trained thee well for this. Remember: it can be wise to fight or flee, but never freeze."

Those were his parting words of encouragement. She could only nod, her tongue feeling fat and useless in her mouth. The helmet sagged on her head a little.

Bronis left for some other duty, so Violet walked out too, unthinkingly. The camels were led out, some ridden while others walked. They'd drawn powdered lines on their faces and bodies - war paint. Together they exited into the too-bright sunlight, and when Violet's eyes adjusted she could see their enemies. They were spread out in a line, also on camels and with armour and swords. From this distance they could've been a terrible mirage, but Violet knew they weren't. It was hard to say which side had the most soldiers. Violet tried to guess and then looked out at all the illagers with her and tried to compare. She couldn't.

Was there some process to this? A brief meeting between captains first or would everyone just charge?

"Violet, thou dost not have to be here." Nedi grumbled, she noticed his giant form beside her. "We need thee for thy potions, thou canst stay back in the cave." She just looked at him. "Unless, thou wishes to fight?"

Zann hadn't given her any orders concerning this. She remembered his promise that he wouldn't let any harm come to her. Clearly he'd only said so to stop her going through with the treachery. Nedi shrugged at her lack of response and strolled away to stand at their leader's side. She couldn't see him but was sure Zann would lead the charge. Sagan and Bronis would also be with him, and various other trusted men. For some insane reason Violet wanted to stand with them too.

But she made herself back away.

This wasn't the result of her risky planning. It wasn't a swarm of monsters led through the deep end of the cave, but it was as good a distraction as any. All the able-bodied fighters were here, with some caretakers like Tiril and those too young staying in the caves. This was her opportunity, so she started backing away, and then she turned and left them….

She didn't know if some were thinking she was a coward, but she couldn't afford to care about that. Violet's walk became a run, back into the caves. She'd get to Zann's quarters, send her message for help, and hope that the soldiers outside would keep the enemies from storming the cave before Lan'Tim dispatched a rescue team through a portal to bring her home.

。。。

【AN: Okay another day, another chapter. Though technically it's past midnight, but I'm gonna count my days via sleeps. Things on Enim are certainly livening up!】