Chapter 5 - Bládthanna
15th of the Harpstring Moon, 1179. Overcast
There were only a few students Jeralt found memorable during his tenure at Garreg Mach. Most were mediocre fighters, diplomats, or lords that became another cog in society. The man sitting before him was not one of those faceless students. He had risen to be one of the best military commanders in Adrestian history. Count Leopold Bergliez was also one of the instigators of the Insurrection of the Seven, a coup which rendered Emperor Ionius IX a mere figurehead. Most recently he had led Adrestia's efforts in the Dagda-Brigid war, which he ended by slaying the Prince of Brigid.
"It has been some 30 years since I've seen that face of yours Blade-Breaker. Sure brings back memories." Count Bergliez held a glass of red wine which he swirled. "I cannot say we ever shared more than a passing word between us, but I do recall one thing about you. You prefer something stronger." The Count signaled one of the servants to fetch another drink. This was a show, in fact he had probably told the servant what to get ahead of time and how long to get it.
Nobles he thought. Even after years of dealing with them, he still found it tiring.
"Forgive my rudeness, but I don't drink until the job is done. Now, may we move on to the details?" The Count gave a grimace. "Things that bad?"
The Count briefed Jeralt on everything Ladislava was currently telling Byleth and Lucas. Though there was something The Count wanted that Ladislava was unaware of.
The Count stood up from his desk and moved to his balcony, hand resting on his hip. "If the Brigians are slaughtered, it could start a war. The old King of Brigid despises me and accuses me of allowing his people to suffer. Some in court even whisper that those renegades act on my orders." Count Bergliez snorted at his last remark. "When you defeat an enemy in war, there are three paths one may take. Take everything of value not nailed down and run, completely dismantle their government and devastate their country, or integrate them into your own."
Jeralt was familiar with all three tactics. The first was self explanatory. The second was horrific and bloody. And the third was easier said than done. "That's why you left the old King alive. You didn't want to make him a martyr like his son. Not to mention the average citizen won't rebel so long as their everyday life remains the same."
"And without the support of his people, he will not be able rebel. I won the war, now all I need to do is not create trouble for Waldemer. He is working to ensure the people of Brigid see the benefits of being a territory." The count turned back from the balcony just as the servant returned with a bottle of brandy. "I do not care how it gets done Jeralt. Kill them, find the murderer, but the less blood spilt it would go a long way to solve my problems. My personal request is that you capture Captain Wulf alive. We'll give him to old Macneary as an apology and clean this whole mess up." Jeralt leaned his head back. This would be difficult. Taking on 30 well trained soldiers, and capturing their leader was no small task. The rewards if they succeeded were enticing though. It last them through winter when they returned to Remire.
"All right, we'll do it. That being said, we need proof we're acting as agents of the Empire. It'll make our work easier." Count Bergliez pulled out a sheet of paper. Jeralt scanned the document and noticed the signatures at the bottom. Edelgard von Hresvelg and Petra Macneary. He looked at the count in shock.
"I told you Jeralt. The whole imperial court wants this mess cleaned up." The count left the chambers, leaving Jeralt with various reports and papers regarding the rogue soldiers.
Byleth had not slept well after her meeting with Ladislava. Byleth rarely sleeps well, with her dreams being plagued by the sleeping girl or the battle between the green haired woman and the man with a Whip-sword. But tonight the dream was different. She had always viewed the other dreams as a spectator, as a phantom. The dream from last night occurred in the first person. She was standing in a white marble room, looming over a woman dressed in black. The sheer hatred in the woman's emerald eyes saddened Byleth for some reason. The words that came from her lips were distorted and unintelligible, as if she were underwater. But the ending was clear as could be. She felt an intense pain in her chest as a blade emerged. She had been stabbed! A distorted voice growled from behind "And so, you must be silenced!"
She woke right after that, covered in sweat. She instinctively placed a hand over still heart. She crawled out of bed and stood before a small mirror. Her physique had earned lustful stares from lecherous lords and even some of her comrades in the past. She imagined that many of those lords would have liked to see her now, in her undressed state. Despite all of her skills as a mercenary, she had several large and small scars. She had three large ones, each with their own story. One along her stomach, where she dodge back too late. The wound had nearly cut deep enough to spill her intestines but a healer on site managed to patch her back up. A long white line ran across her rib, where a spearman narrowly missed a lung. Finally a thin, precise scar right over her heart. That one was a mystery. She tore her gaze away from the mirror and got dressed. It was time to go.
It was dawn, and the rest of the Blade Breakers were ready to go. Jeralt sauntered out of his room, his expression grave. He had told Byleth of Count Bergliez's request when he arrived, late last night. Once again, she was paired with Lucas, which was fine by her. After training him for the past month, she had made him into a capable fighter. His recent sparring with Goetz led to his first victory, in which he had sidestepped his swing and thrusted his wooden sword towards his foe's heart. It made Byleth feel a sense of pride, and she wasn't the only one who felt so if Lucas's grin had been anything to go by.
The Blade Breakers marched through the woods and chose to make a detour to where the guard's body had been discovered. Jeralt, Byleth, and by extension Lucas searched the clearing. It was beautiful, beams of sunlight broke through the canopy, as a small stream flowed nearby. Sitting on a log, was a vase of purple flowers.
"Looks like a memorial. His brother maybe?" Lucas deduced. Byleth agreed, not many knew the exact location of the guards death. Byleth walked around to the largest tree. She noticed that something was carved into the tree. It was a Triskelion, a symbol associated with Brigid. The trio continued to investigate, knowing that the heavy rainfall from last night may have washed away what little evidence was left. After an hour of searching, they accepted that this place had been picked dry of any useful information, and continued their ride.
The rest of the ride was entertaining to say the least. It was Lucas's first time on a horse after all. For as quick as he was learning the sword, he was horrific at horse riding. He groaned in pain, could barely control his mare, and in the end begged Byleth for help. She offered to let him sit behind her, a prospect that seemed to fluster him. After wandering off the road twice, he finally managed to get his mare to go straight and walk alongside Byleth. "Hey By, would you mind if I asked a personal question?" Lucas asked out of the blue. She raised an eyebrow at the name he used.
"By?" She had never been given a nickname. She did not count her father referring to her as 'kid'. He called a lot of people 'kid', including Lucas.
Lucas frowned at her tone. "Not a fan of By?" She let the name ring in her mind before making a decision.
"It's fine, just never been called that before. What do you want to know?"
Lucas paused. He licked his lips as a sudden nervousness overtook him. "How did you get your nickname? The Ashen Demon." Her mood begins to plummet. It wasn't a story she liked telling. It was the day the Company's opinion of her went from the Captain's weird kid to the feared Ashen Demon. It was also the day of her first kill.
Byleth took a breath and began her story.
When it came to missions, Byleth had gotten used to things getting out of hand. Too many times an easy job ended with an ambush. It was almost ten years ago when her father and other mercenaries were captured by bandits after getting plastered, thinking their mission had been accomplished.
It had been a routine bandit elimination job and Byleth was left behind due to her youth. Her father had returned and bought a round of drinks for the men. She never liked when things got too loud and rowdy, so she left. While she had been trained by her father since a young age, he never took her on jobs, telling Byleth "when you're older". She returned to the tavern to find that everyone was gone. Panicked, she ran to the back of the tavern, only to be met by a pungent smell. Upon investigating, she found the real bartender with his throat slit stuffed in a barrel of beats. She knew that her father was in trouble.
Byleth had hunted before and the bandits had not covered their trail very well. She found them in an abandoned mining town hours later. They had tied up the mercenaries, and had seemingly gone to bed. The female mercenaries were stripped to their small clothes. Byleth shuddered. Sneaking to a lone mercenary, she prodded him. He kept his head facing forwards, to avoid giving her away. "That you kid?"
"Yes. Have you seen my father?" Byleth asked. Of the thirty-three fighting members of their band, she counted all but Jeralt.
"They took him to the largest house. Listen, most of these assholes are still sleeping. Cut my bonds, and free as many as you can. We can take them". He was an experienced member, who had been with them as long as Byleth could remember. She cut the ropes and he remained still, pretending to be bound. Jeralt had always insisted she carry two daggers on her at a time. One to use and one to lose, he liked to say. She pushed her extra into his hands. She then did as asked and freed ten members who all stayed put. Byleth gave a signal as they all rushed forwards to kill the distracted guards, some armed with hidden daggers, others with nearby rocks.
Byleth ordered the others to block the doors, trapping the sleeping bandits inside their homes. She grabbed a smoldering piece of firewood. She stared at it, wondering if this was too much. She gave a glance back to one of the naked mercenaries who gave Byleth a nod. She threw the log onto the straw roof and set one of the homes aflame. She ignored the screams as she made her way to her father. The bandit leader emerged from the home, woken by his comrades' cries. Byleth rushed the man, and drove her sword into his heart before he had a chance to raise his axe in his defense. Her father had been in a cage in the back of the room still drugged and asleep. Worried, she dragged him outside, not noticing the rest of the Blade Breakers were staring at her. She had been covered in ash and blood. An Ashen Demon.
Byleth finished her tale. She didn't want to look at Lucas, didn't want to see her first friend in a long time look at her like a monster. Lucas remained silent. She wasn't sure if that was due to the horror of her burning men alive or not wanting to open the wound any more than he had. But eventually he did respond.
"I don't think a demon would have helped me." He said. His words gave Byleth the courage to look into his dark blue eyes. "A demon wouldn't have taught me to fight twice a day for over a month without asking for anything in return. A demon wouldn't have been worried about saving a village full of innocent people." Lucas' kind smile turned rueful. "And if you are one, then I guess demons aren't so bad."
Byleth felt her cheeks flush. "Thats, uh… I mean!" She fumbled her words trying to find the right response. Lucas chuckled and gave her a pat on the back. Unfortunately for him, his horse had decided to enter a trot at the noise. Lucas began to curse, trying to get his animal under control. Byleth sped her horse up to try and help him.
Unbeknownst to them, Jeralt had listened to the whole conversation. He watched the two of them ride off, cursing and even laughing. Taking Lucas with them was one of the best decisions Jeralt had made in a while, he told himself.
They arrived in Bládthanna at midday. The town was surrounded by log walls. Jeralt ordered that all swords be kept sheathed until they were within speaking distance. He could see bowmen atop the wall, facing each cardinal direction. Jeralt approached with arms outstretched and called out. "My name is Jeralt Eisner. I'm the leader of the Blade Breaker mercenaries. I come in peace! Tagann mé i síocháin!" He finished in what Lucas assumed was their native language. The archer made no comment, and gave Jeralt a curious stare. Now that he was closer, he noticed the man had a tanned complexion with tribal tattoo along his face and arm. The gate opened and revealed a strong looking man in his 40's. While he appeared stern, back rigid there was a perceptible air of sadness and exhaustion around him.
"I take it you are the man our princess sent?" The man who I assumed was Cormac spoke in a heavy accent. "Good, follow me. Your men stay here." Lucas couldn't tell if he was being rude or a cultural thing. Jeralt nodded and ordered them to assess the defenses. Lucas and Byleth began their survey. The town consisted of medium sized log homes, each looking spacious enough to fit a family of four. Each home had a backyard complete with a garden. When it came to livestock, each home seemed to raise a different type. A house that raised chickens, one that raised pigs, and another with cows. All in all, they seemed well off for a settlement that was only 3 years old. The walls were more ingenious than Lucas had assumed. They had left strategic holes in the wall, wide enough to push a spear through or fire an arrow. These gaps also doubled as a lookout. The 4 visible lookouts were red herrings, meant to make enemies target what appeared to be a vulnerability. In the center of the town lies an open air pavilion with a firepit.
According to a local mother Ciaran, Cormac was not only their leader, but their Shaman who communed with the spirits. They would gather here for ceremonies and to feast together once a week. Her red haired daughter started tugging her mothers sleeve and asked a question in their native tongue. Ciaran translated her question for the pair.
"When can we play in the forest again?" The question pulled at Lucas's heart strings. He wanted to tell the girl soon. But the response died in his throat. He saw the way the villagers were on guard. They hadn't seen the rogue guards yet but he imagined they were just as high strung. Byleth responded before Lucas could fumble out a response.
"Tell her we will do our best. And if she is a good girl that listens to her mother, it may happen soon." Ciaran understood the non-answer and translated it to her daughter. She bowed her head and led her daughter away. The girl turned as they walked away and gave them a large smile, showing off her missing front tooth.
"We should report to Jeralt. Maybe Cormac told him something important that could help us." Lucas said to Byleth. She nodded her head and they made their way to his home.
When they arrived, they noticed a purple haired woman sitting on a bench next to the entrance. She had been staring at the ground and was playing with a silver ring. She reminded Lucas of an Amazon. Purple hair in a high ponytail, muscular, and her clothes were predominantly furs and linens.
"Excuse me, miss?" The woman looked up and quickly placed the ring in one of her pouches.
"Yes, can I help you?" While she had an accent, her English was flawless. Not a single pause or stammer as had been the case with the other villagers.
"We were wondering if our leader was still discussing things with Cormac. We need to give him our report about the village's fortifications." Lucas took the moment to study her face. She looked exhausted, just like the other villagers. But there was something else. Something Lucas couldn't place.
"Father is still talking with your captain. But I see no harm in interrupting them." The now identified daughter of Cormac knocked at the door and spoke in her native tongue. "Go ahead. They are waiting"
Byleth gave her thanks and stepped inside. Lucas paused before entering the home. "Thank you miss…"
"Saoirse"
Lucas gave her a nod and entered her home.
The home was the largest in the village. Jeralt and Cormac were seated on cushions on the ground. A short table sat between them. There were animal skins, bones, and bronze charms hanging on the walls. The mortar and pestle on the nearby table told Lucas that it was where he crafted medicines. In a basket nearby was a variety of flowers, herbs, and berries.
Lucas and Byleth took a seat next to Jeralt and gave their report. They had adequate food stores, good defenses, and around fifteen hunters to assist their mercenaries. The town of fifty was populated with mostly traders and their children, but with the thirtytwo fighters the Blade Breakers brought, they outnumbered the rogue guards.
"Well, the town seems to be in good condition. But back to what we were discussing before." Jeralt turned back to the Shaman. Cormac's eyes narrowed and cut Jeralt off.
"I swear that none of my hunters shot that guard. You are familiar with our culture, are you not Blade Breaker?"
Jeralt gave a huff. "I am. As a Shaman you are sworn by oath to the spirits to never tell a lie. If you do, you invite dark spirits into your tribe." Lucas dissected that nugget of information. Byleth's eyes narrowed. He felt like neither Jeralt or Byleth believed the part about never lying anymore than Lucas did.
"Then you know I speak the truth. Now go, I must consult with the spirits." Cormac dismissed them, shooing them out. Lucas wanted to ask questions, but chose to follow Jeralt's lead.
"Did you two notice what he didn't say?" Jeralt questioned.
"He said his hunters didn't shoot the guard. Not that no one in the village did." Byleth answered, her hand resting on her chin. She was right, he had used that phrasing.
"Look, just because he says he made an oath to never lie, doesn't mean he actually lives up to it." Lucas pointed out. And if Cormac did reveal that one of his villagers killed the guard, he would be sending that person, likely a friend, to their death.
Jeralt shook his head. "Normally I'd agree with that sentiment kid. But Shamans like him back up their oaths with a magic ritual. I don't remember how it works, but the end result is that if a Shaman lies, he feels agonizing pain." Lucas frowned. One thing he had to keep reminding himself was the existence of magic. Byleth was capable of basic fireballs and healing spells, and had demonstrated them in training. She had tried to teach them to Lucas, but those lessons ended in failure. Not even a spark had been produced.
"So he used a loophole. A partial truth to try and convince us." Byleth summarized. "And even if we call him on it, he could refuse to answer all together. We aren't any closer to the truth." But if one of the hunters did do it, that lowered their suspect pool. It couldn't have been any of the children, so they were out as well. Lucas's musing was interrupted by a horn being blown. The trio made for the north gate, and were met by Bartrand and one of the hunters.
"Report" Demanded Jeralt.
"A man walked to the gate carrying a white flag. The hunters say he's one of the rogue guards. He wants to speak with you." Bartrand's face was grim. It felt like a trap, and everyone knew it.
"I'll do it. I want the rest of you to spread out and look for someone trying to flank us. If things go bad, keep the gate shut and toss me a rope so I can climb up." Jeralt ordered. Lucas could tell Byleth hated this plan, as it put Jeralt in peril.
Lucas put a hand on her shoulder. "By, your dad knows what he's doing. He'll be fine." She tensed at the contact, and eventually relaxed, giving her father a simple nod. Jeralt gave a smile and motioned to the Brigan gatekeeper, who looked concerned. The lookout shouted something at the gatekeeper, who eventually relented and opened the gate. As soon as Jeralt's form was through, the gate was closed and boarded back up.
Authors Notes
They didn't explore Brigid's culture too much, mostly talking about spirits. So I took some creative liberties and made the Shaman their spiritual leader/healer. The language they are speaking is Irish.
I'm trying to give Byleth more of a personality like in Three Hopes.
When writing nobility, I'm trying to emulate their style. A noble would not use words like "Don't, can't, won't." They would use do not, cannot, will not, etc. When they do, they are either relaxed or not one for formality.
