Valkyrie Profile:

Lenneth Novelization AU:

Disclaimer: I do not own Valkyrie Profile or any other tri-Ace properties. Please support the official release.

Chapter Thirty-Five:

Midgardian Interludes VIII

"So, you truly did not witness much after that?" Lawfer asked.

"If I did, I was too dazed to remember of any it," Nanami answered. She puffed out some air, and asked, "So, Genevieve, Beliza, and Orlok all got away?"

"Alas, yes," the knight nodded unhappily. "It could not be helped. Lady Valkyrie thinks they were preparing to flee from the moment they knew we were in their lair. They readied themselves well in advance to stave us off long enough to make good their escape."

Nanami was clearly crestfallen to hear that.

"Ah…!" Lawfer frantically tried to think of something to lighten the mood. "Well, at least we know the Undead are indeed not united."

"I suppose that is a gain," Nanami said, trying to find some silver lining.

"Indeed," Lawfer answered. "The excursion did at least get Lady Valkyrie an audience with Lord Odin and Lady Freya to report it directly. I suppose that alone warranted our trek into Solde."

"She's seeing them in the morning, correct?" Nanami asked.

"Yes. Seems Lord Loki was able to get her an audience on short notice," Lawfer explained.

Nanami paused with a pensive look while Lawfer stood by waiting for her to answer. It was evening now, and they were back in Asgard, but not the Golden Hall. Odin's palace was not far away, though. It was about the size of a hut in the distance. Lawfer had brought Nanami for an evening ride out to a little meadow with a creek after Lenneth at materialized her back into physical form. Nanami sat on a decent-sized rock near the bank enjoying the evening air and the sounds of the brook. Lawfer was overjoyed to have been able to take her there.

The horse-like equine beast which had born them nibbled at the grass not far away. Neither einherjar were sure what to call the creature, but it was close enough to a horse that the knight had made do with referring to it as such. However, with cloven hooves, fluffy white fur, a long golden mane and a tail longer than a horse's, Nanami deemed it pure technicality to call the beast a horse. It did behave like a horse and functioned as one, which she supposed was all that counted. Lawfer had borrowed the beast from the stables and the elven stable hands had not argued since they were einherjar.

"What was it like after Lenneth had to take you back into herself?" Lawfer asked.

Nanami thought over how to answer. Then she shrugged, shaking her head.

"After the vampire tore me apart, it was like I was asleep. I only came to sometime while Lady Valkyrie was bringing us back to Valhalla," she said.

Lawfer made an "Mm," sound with his throat as he came around in front of the shrine girl and crouched to be eye-level with her.

"Milady," he said, taking both her hands in his own gently. "I do hope you can forgive me."

"Huh?" Nanami was utterly clueless. "Forgive you? For what?"

"My carelessness," Lawfer answered sadly. "If I had been quicker to keep up the pressure against that terrible Scarlet woman, you would have been able to raise the Holy Barrier and she would have been forced to remain on the defensive."

He squeezed her hands slightly as he looked down ashamedly.

"Alas, I allowed her to upturn the very floor we stood on," he said. "If Lady Valkyrie had not arrived just in time, your wounded soul would have been vulnerable to the dark aura filling that wretched place. For that, I can never ask your forgiveness enough."

"Oh, pishposh!" Nanami said with a giggle.

She pulled her hands free from Lawfer's own and held the sides of his face gently.

"Lawfer, it was battle," she said. "You're the seasoned former Lieutenant, mister. You should know better than I that these things sometimes happen."

Lawfer swallowed.

"Still no excuse for being reckless," he said.

Nanami sighed as she tried to think of a way to bring the knight out of his current mood of self-loathing.

"Well, you're doing a great job of making up for it, then," she said.

She looked up, admiring the Divine beauty of the grassy meadow around them. Around them were some of the biggest flowers the girl from Yamato had ever seen and the babbling brook shimmered in the rising moonlight just right.

"It warms me to see it is your liking," Lawfer said.

He stood up and also looked around.

"I've seen this spot in passing coming and going from the Golden Hall on a daily basis now," he said. "I thought after today's ordeal, you would enjoy a few peaceful moments away from the castle for a bit."

"Lawfer, I love it," Nanami beamed at him. "It's so quiet and peaceful."

Lawfer grinned. "Anytime, Milady."

"Goodnight, you two," Jelanda tiredly waved.

"Night," Arngrim grunted.

He quickly disappeared through the entrance of the men's quarters in the einherjars' barracks. Belenus remained in the back hall of the castle a moment longer, sitting on a bench. He hadn't quite worked up the ambition to stand and go to bed just yet. He yawned and leaned against the backrest, cursing whatever unlucky fate that even the dead could feel exhausted.

"I suppose it does make a strange sense how all that energy we use battling Valhalla's enemies must be restored somehow. Sleep seems as good a method as any," Belenus thought. "Just as I suppose we should not just expect Lady Valkyrie to restore us each time battle exhausts us. It all must be taxing to her, too."

He happened to glance to his left and realized Jelanda had not yet entered the women's quarters at the other end of the corridor. She just stood there staring downward holding The Elemental Scepter close, almost absently.

"Hmm?" Belenus looked at her sad face, and a regretful frown.

"Jelanda?" he gently called.

She didn't response, and after a moment, Belenus had to assume she had not heard him.

"Jelanda," he raised his voice this time.

"Eek!" she jumped.

The princess sharply pivoted on her heels to face him. Her face had a tinge of red as she fiddled with her scepter awkwardly.

"Ah, er, yes! Belenus, what is it?" she breathlessly asked.

The Lassen noble kept a strong poker face to refrain from chuckling to spare the girl more embarrassment.

"Jelanda is something the matter?" he simply asked.

The girl looked on, but not at him.

With some trepidation, Jelanda said, "Nothing we haven't already discussed."

Ah.

"The incident caused by your… excitement for Great Magic down in the catacombs?" Belenus guessed.

"Yeah," she somberly muttered.

Belenus sat there, putting together a response. Then he pushed himself up out of the bench and approached the girl, laying both hands on her shoulders. Jelanda looked up, into Belenus's eyes as he spoke.

"I know I… was very harsh earlier," he admitted. He kept his voice even as he continued, "I daresay it wasn't unearned considering your reckless actions, but I spoke in anger rather than instruct."

"You weren't wrong to be furious with me," Jelanda said. "I'm sorry really."

Belenus held up a hand. "You have apologized already, and it was accepted. But truly, Jelanda, you really should not berate yourself over it anymore. You know where you misstepped, and I have every faith you will never make such a mistake again."

"You do?" Jelanda asked.

"Of course," Belenus answered. He withdrew his hands from her shoulders and stuck them into his pockets. With a wry spark in his eye, he then added, "Besides, between you and Arngrim. I am sure there will be many new lapses in judgment to keep things interesting."

Jelanda clamped her mouth shut, but she could not suppress the smirk and a wheeze of laughter. With the mood lightened, Belenus nodded towards the door of the women's quarters.

"Now then, I think it is late enough that we should both be turning in. Goodnight, Jelanda," he said.

"Goodnight, Belenus," she answered.

Then they parted ways, each heading into the appropriate barracks.

"I hope I did not forget anything," Lenneth thought.

She read through her hastily scribbled notes on the unrolled scroll her desktop. She had tried to write down the important talking points for her report. On such short notice, the Valkyrie was sure she was forgetting something, but it was not coming to mind. The goddess also tried not to cringe at her hurried handwriting.

"No time to redo it with better strokes. I will certainly be keeping this rolled up and in hand when I'm not reading from it," she thought.

The small ink spatters around a few of the letters were especially embarrassing. Lenneth pushed the thought the aside as she looked through what she had written. After deciding she had remembered everything, Lenneth sat back in her chair to let the ink dry.

"It will be time to speak to Lord Odin and Lady Freya soon. I would think, anyway. I should just take a moment to collect myself," she thought.

Lenneth looked out the window. The maid had left it open, allowing the Valkyrie to view of the beautiful morning sky and to listen to the birds and breeze. It was still fairly early in the morning, but much later than when she and the einherjar would normally set out for the day. Being squeezed in for a last minute briefing, of course, had necessitated this impromptu day off from Midgard.

"Worry not about it, Lennie," Loki had said. "An update this big about the Undead will get you in tomorrow, no problem. Just try not to take off for Midgard too soon. You will be summoned. Who knows, this might even be our chance to tell them about the current stare of Midgard early."

"I should probably not hope for too much," Lenneth reminded herself on that thought. "I am here to relay what I learned down in the Solde Catacombs. Nothing more."

Once she was certain the ink had dried, Lenneth rolled up the scroll and stood. She smoothed out any wrinkles in her skirt and left for the throne room of the Golden Hall. At first, Lenneth was deep in her headspace, arranging how she would relate recent events. However, it wasn't long before she noticed how oddly quiet and empty the palace was at the moment.

"I've not even passed anyone in the halls yet," Lenneth thought with some perplexity.

The Valkyrie began looking around and listening. After a moment, it was becoming eerie how quiet it was. Had she not known better, the goddess would have suspected something foul was afoot. When one of the doors behind her suddenly opened, it was both a surprise and relief. Lenneth looked, and it was one of the palace staff, a maid of elven persuasion she had seen around quite often recently. She was coming out of a storage room with a broom and dustpan.

"Excuse me," Lenneth called out to her.

The elf turned to her and bowed.

"Oh, Lady Lenneth, good morning to you," she said. Then she jogged over, and asked, "What may I do for you, Milady?"

"I was hoping you could tell me where everyone went to," Lenneth answered. "This place may as well be a mausoleum right now."

"Most of the pantheon are receiving orders from Lord Odin and Lady Freya, or have already, Milady," the elven maid answered. "They've either gone off to fulfill their duties or will be soon."

"The entire pantheon? New orders?" Lenneth mused. "Have you any idea what 'tis all about?"

The elven maid shook her head. "I'm afraid I have only the vaguest notion, Milady. I've heard rumor of a plan to deal a blow to The Three Kingdoms Alliance. Several engineers, workers, and other craftsmen from Alfheim have been called to Valhalla regularly for about a month now, but none really know the reason why. The workers all took Odin's Unbreakable Vow of Secrecy. Could be some kind of new weapon, perhaps."

"I understand. Thank you. I shan't keep you any longer, then," Lenneth said.

The elven maid bowed again. "Thank you, Milady."

Lenneth and the elven maid then walked off in opposite directions.

"No time to dally, then," the Valkyrie thought. "If Lord Odin's throne room is so hectic, I may not be able to deliver this report, after all."

Lenneth didn't know what she felt as she briskly worked her way through the halls. It could have been simple nervousness or even a bit of dread. All she knew is that she didn't like it.

"A Major operation against The Three Kingdoms. Why have I not heard of it?" she wondered.

She looked back on her previous meetings with Loki, and tried to think if he had mentioned anything to that effect, but nothing stuck out to her.

"Wait…" she then remembered something.

The image of Loki being accosted by Vidar and Hermod in the hallway outside his office one evening not too long ago flashed in her mind. The scene of the Trickster being pressed against the wall by the two Odinsons was still crystal clear in her memory. They were convinced he would leak information to the Jötunns or his daughter, Hel, and almost didn't back off even when Lenneth admonished them for their behavior.

Vidar had scoffed at Loki and walked around him, as though examining the trickster. "With us about to strike a blow against our enemies with the new ongoing operation, I suppose we just do not feel… comfortable knowing you will be helping to manage a mission which will also weaken Jotunheim's position if successful."

Lenneth was suddenly full of questions. "Just what do they speak of?"

"You are referring to Project Körmt?" Loki inquired. It was his turn to scoff. "You act as though I've never participated in a mission which got us victory against Jotunheim or our other enemies before."

"Ay, but this time, we seek to enter their realms and break our enemies once and for all," Hermod asserted.

"That has always been the aim," Loki replied. "Yet only now it is an issue?"

"I have heard enough," Lenneth said. "If you think Loki a traitor waiting for the chance to betray us, you should take this to Lord Odin, himself. Otherwise, you have assaulted his sworn Blood Brother with no cause."

Vidar and Hermod had only backed off, reluctantly, but not without more snide comments directed at her and Loki.

"That must be it," Lenneth concluded. "Hmm… This Project Körmt is confidential information. Regardless, I am almost curious enough to ask Lord Loki about it, anyway."

Lenneth could not keep her curious thoughts from examining the clues. "Project Körmt? As in the astral river which flows between Asgard and Vanaheim? Elven engineers and craftsman? Could they be… rebuilding the old Körmt Bridge. King Njord, himself, shattered it when the new Aesir-Vanir war began. Or are they constructing some other means of crossing through all that volatile energy?"

Lenneth wondered why use the elves when dwarven engineers would have been better.

"So, many unanswered questions," Lenneth ruminated.

"Ah, Lenneth. Good timing."

"Huh?" The Valkyrie looked up from her thoughts.

She stopped and looked around, realizing she had wandered without paying attention right to her destination at the waiting room. She looked at Syn, ever vigilant in guarding the throne room's door, almost in surprise.

"Did I really go so deep into my own thoughts that…? Oh, never mind," Lenneth dismissed it.

"Lenneth?" Syn repeated, giving her an odd look.

The death goddess cleared her throat somewhat embarrassedly and gave fiery haired guard a smile and a shallow bow.

"Oh, good morning, Syn," Lenneth greeted. "You said my arrival was well-timed?"

"Correct," Syn answered. "Lord Odin is nearly finished giving the pantheon their orders. They will be leaving shortly, and you will be able to report your recent findings to the king. Have a seat. It will be but a moment."

"Yes, of course," Lenneth politely replied. "Thank you."

She quietly went over to one of the cushioned sofas lining the walls and sat down, laying the scroll in her lap.

"Finally, we're back," Lucien said.

"Not quite," Claire corrected him. "We still gotta get back in before we're really back, Luce."

"Right, yeah," Lucien muttered.

From just outside of the city curtain walls, Lucien, Claire, and Rusty peered out from the foliage of the wilderness. Their other two companions, Taran and Joe were with them, scanning the stretch of open ground they'd have to cross in their approach. They had all taken off their silver-beaded braided necklaces and hidden them in their travel bags earlier. Now they just had to get inside.

Lucien looked up towards the top of the city's tall stone curtain, and there were a couple of guards walking the eastern side. The five Silver Saviors instinctively retreated a step each further into the foliage. They were completely hidden by the canopy of leaves above them. Just beyond the tree line there was nothing but open ground and the sewer canal between them and entry into the city. A dirt path ran parallel to the city wall. A round outlet at the base of the wall was partially submerged in the murky bodily wastewater which flowed out into the sewer canal and into the river and was covered with rusted vertical bars.

"Think the bars are still loose?" Claire whispered in Lucien's ear.

"They will be," Lucien answered, staring at the sewer outlet. "The city guard and Agatha's Deputies were never smart enough to figure out how we slipped in and out of Gerebellum before."

"Yeah, these ain't the old times no more," Rusty murmured.

Lucien and Claire did not reply. What could they even say to that? They certainly had no counterargument, especially not after the Sheriff went so far as to risk awakening the Wasp Giants just find one of their secret routes. With that thought, Lucien found himself giving those rusty bars a good look. They had been an old reliable way in and out of the city countless times, but he could not ignore Rusty's point.

"This time they will have to be tested," Lucien decided. "Someone has to go over there, and risk being seen by the guards if they don't come loose no more."

Claire noticed their leader had gone deep into thought.

"Lucien?" she asked. She looked between the wall and him. "Whatcha thinkin' 'bout?"

"Hmm?" Lucien looked up from his ponderings. He points at the sewage drain with his thumb. "Rusty's right. If they've fixed the bars on the sewer outlet, we'll really be in deep shit."

"In deeper shit than when we're wading through it?" Claire smirked.

"Way deeper," Lucien seriously mumbled.

Joe leaned over and asked, "Want me to do it? I can give 'em a run they'll not forgot while you lot make yerselves scarce."

Lucien considered it. His choice of volunteers just looked like victims to his eyes. Victims who had barely escaped the near massacre caused by the Sheriff's men awakening the Wasp Giants.

"No one else is gonna die on my watch," Lucien firmly thought.

"Nay," Lucien held up a hand. "I'm the one responsible for getting us into this mess to begin with. I can take a fall."

Claire gaped at Lucien as he prepared to make a run for the sewer drain as soon as the guards left or weren't looking. Rusty and Claire exchanged looks and then nodded in mutual understanding while Joe and Taran just stood off to the side to allow their leader do as he wished. Claire and Rusty both grabbed Lucien before he could bolt and yanked him deeper into the green.

"Hey, what… ulp!" Lucien protested before being shoved hard enough to flop onto his back in the bushes.

He shot an annoyed look up at Claire and Rusty, who stared sternly back. Lucien looked past them, trying to see if they alerted the guards. He couldn't hear an alarm, so he hoped they hadn't.

"Hey, that was wreckless!" Lucien hissed. He pointed up through the gap in the leaves. "The guards might have heard us."

"We were reckless?" Rusty protested, throwing up his hands. "Ye were about to just rush the drain without giving us a plan!"

"Could you please stop living your life in a forever death march!" Claire reprimanded him.

"Death march?" Lucien repeated incredulously. "It's my fault we're…"

"No, Lucien, it was Sheriff Agatha roused the Wasp Giants," Claire stopped him. "And you have to stop trying to save the whole world, 'cause you can't."

"I'm the fastest runner here," Lucien protested.

"Ay, but who's gonna lead us if they catch ye?" Rusty asked.

Lucien couldn't answer. He tried to devise one, but then his entire tract of mind was thrown off as he began to realize he was hearing a subtle rumble. Lucien slowly looked down and took off one of his gloves, laying it flat against the ground. He felt subtle tremors in the earth.

"What? What is it?" Rusty began looking around frantically. "They spot us?"

They were all nervously glancing about now.

"Anyone else hear that?" Lucien asked.

"Hear what?" Claire asked.

Lucien sat up on his knees and then bent over, putting his ear to the soft ground. When he did, he heard the distant pounding of many hooves. They were gradually getting louder, too.

"Horses," Lucien muttered, and pointed North. "Approaching the main gates of Gerebellum."

"Horses?" Claire asked. Then, as she also dropped to listen through the ground, she asked, "Many?"

"Many," Lucien answered.

When Claire's ear rested against the dirt, her eyes widened. The sound had become a neverending thunder. There had to be dozens, perhaps hundreds of hooves pounding their way towards the city at that very moment.

Lucien sat up straight, "Come on. We have to see what this is about before we miss it."

The group headed towards the North gate. Their trek was slower than they would have liked, but they had to be careful to stay in the trees and not make noise as they weaved between the bark-covered trunks, thorny bushes, and weeds. They didn't know how long it took, but when they at last came to the edge of the tree line again looking at the city's main, Northern gate from the east, the oncoming riders were in view.

Lucien and his small band hunkered down behind a bush, parting the tangles of leaves and branches to peer through them. The riders and their steeds all wore protective armor which reflected off the sun's light. Moreover, they rode in the organized fashion of the military, complete with a commander at the front with a flag-bearer as his side. They bore the deep blue color of Gerebellum.

"The army?" Rusty muttered in confusion. "What're they doin' back from the front, and with Villnore being real ornery lately?"

Claire leaned closer to Lucien, and asked, "How many, do you think?"

Lucien studied the approaching army, counting the lines and rows as best he could.

"Six across," he muttered. "And at least fifty rows back. That's at least three hundred men out there."

"Three hundred don't sound like much," Joe muttered.

"Maybe not, but why are they here?" Rusty asked.

"Open the gates!" they heard someone from atop the city wall shout. "Captain Mason has arrived with his Steel Legion of Cavalry-Breakers!"

That gave the five of them cause for pause.

"Captain Mason, the Rider's Bane?" was Lucien's astonished response.

As the city gate began to open, the small rebel group paid the man leading this battalion of soldiers more attention. When the arriving attachment of men were within five yards of the gate, Lucien's group were finally able to make out some detail of the captain at the front.

"That silver lance with the golden-trim…" Rusty muttered.

Indeed, the great long pointed-cone shape of Captain Mason's infamous lance gleamed under the sunlight. It was no mistake…

"That's Captain Mason, alright," Claire whispered. "And those with him must truly be his famous 'Cavalry-Breakers'."

That left just one question hanging over their minds.

"Why pull a Cavalry Unit infamous for thrashing other horseback divisions off the front lines?" Lucien pondered aloud.

Claire looked between Lucien and Rusty, adding, "Ay, what the blazes is he doing here?"

"Dunno," Lucien muttered heavily. He pointed towards the city. "But we have to get in there and find out what's happened since we were away. This can't be good."

"People of Gerebellum, I Announce the arrival of Captain Mason and his Cavalry-Breakers!" The crier announced.

He walked the street in front of the horse riders as they rode at marching pace. Hundreds gathered at the city entrance to look upon their protectors who staved off their Northern enemies for years. Children looked on with bright eyes, seeing possible futures for themselves among those proud armored men atop proud armored horses.

"Ma-son! Ma-son!" one people chanted.

Captain Mason actually turned to look at the cheering masses and waves, even breaking a smile. Even under his helmet, his green eyes had a visible twinkle. The man beside him however, was not so pleased.

"Composure, Captain," he chided. "You will be meeting with Mayor Harold Boyd and the Iron Lady, Sheriff Agatha shortly."

"Oh, loosen up, Giles," Mason bluntly retorted. "From the looks of ol' Gerebellum, it seems like home does not see many good days often."

Over the next three hours, the Cavalry-Breakers marched through the heart of the city before arriving at the elite's district. Mason had looked around frequently on his brigade's trek, and it just disheartened him to see the city in this state. It seemed somehow even more decrepit than when he had left it some years prior for the front lines. Around him the differences between those who were well-to-do in their finances and the poor seemed almost exaggerated, unreal to him. Had the lower classes been in such a wretched state when he left? Rags and filthy faces dotted the crowds, rotting and decaying buildings peppering the cityscape beside well-maintained ones like a patchwork city. It left the captain in a state of disbelief. It became apparent the rich had become richer and the poor had become poorer.

"Are those idiots grinding our fair city into the ground?" Mason thought. "There will be but dust and grime when we are finished warring with our North enemies."

They came around a final bend and the mayor's manor was finally in sight. The captain could see the overweight aging ginger who ran the city waiting for them outside the gate with several guards and attendants. Mason recognized the mayor's trademark green suit and feathered hat. He also saw Sheriff Agatha standing with perfect pois beside the mayor, looking on impassively as ever.

"Some things never change," the captain thought.

Mayor Boyd and Sheriff Agatha came out onto the street to greet him, flanked by four guards and some attendants in tow. The company of horseback riders stopped in front of the manor.

"Hail, Captain Mason," the mayor as he approached the officer.

"Hail, Lord Mayor," Mason answered.

He climbed down from his stallion, handing off the reins to the flag-bearer. Then the captain and the mayor shared a forearm shake.

"'Tis been too long, good sir," Boyd said, putting on his best smile to greet a war hero in public. "Does it warm your heart to be home?"

"Ay, I had missed how… refreshingly rustic Gerebellum can be," Mason answered, choosing his words carefully.

Then he turned Agatha and shared a forearm shake with her, too.

"Captain," the sheriff's greeting was simple and with no discernible emotion.

"Sheriff," Mason responded in kind.

His gaze turned to back Boyd quickly, "Just one thing puzzles me in all this, though, Lord Mayor."

"Oh?" Boyd said.

"Why have my men and I been recalled form the front?" Mason asked. "We are still at war with Villnore by land, and Crell Monferaigne by sea."

"Yes, well," Boyd said with a cough. "About that… you must understand, dear captain, not all enemies of the state come from the outside."

Mason nearly snorted dubiously.

"What internal enemy could be so fearsome they require the attention of my Cavalry-Breakers?" he sternly asked.

Boyd half-grinned, and asked almost slyly, "Have you ever heard of The Silver Saviors, or the Cheap Side Guard?"

Mason's brow furrowed.

"I believe the names may have been mentioned by some fresh troops over this last year, but I know nothing about them," he said.

"Malcontents who would upset the natural order of this state," Sheriff Agatha answered. "We are coming very close to finally being rid of them, which is why we called on additional sword arms."

Mason nearly glowered at her.

"You had best not be wasting my time with mere dabble when there is sword work to be done back on the field of battle," he warned.

"Oh, believe you me, Captain," Boyd interjected, stroking his long, graying-red mustache. "These are no mere rabble. They are organized, and have been disrupting the very economy of Gerebellum for years now."

"The slave market, correct?" Mason asked.

"Indeed," Boyd answered. "We've lost oth by the tens of thousands by the theft of fresh bondservants. At this rate, Gerebellum may have to close its slave market, losing a profitable venue. It would be devastating to our economy if fields cannot be plowed, or quarries and mines worked. Devastating, I say!"

"I see your problem, but what exactly are my Cavalry-Breakers supposed to do about this?" Mason asked. "We're trained for battle on a proper stage of war, not chasing around brigands through backstreets and dense forest."

"We are glad you asked, because we have a plan," Agatha said.

"A plan?" Mason asked.

"Yes," the sheriff answered. "Now that you have arrived, we can begin our operation to weed out these undesirables. Come, let us discuss this matter behind closed doors, though. Your men will also be briefed soon enough."

"Indeed," Boyd said. He gestured to his servants, who moved to open the front of his manor house. As the iron hinges creaked horribly, the mayor turned back to Mason. "Would you and your men like a spot of tea?"

Mason raised a brow in response.

"…Now this one blends a Ceylon and Assam leaves. Mixed with milk or sugar, 'tis quite good," Mayor said.

Captain Mason watched as the maids poured them their tea in the Mayor's upstairs study. Boyd sat behind his desk with Mason and Agatha occupied a pair of chairs across from him. The servants quietly left and shut the door, leaving the military man to discuss the matter of the Silver Saviors in private with the mayor and the sheriff. Mason honestly just wanted to get this sordid business done with, but rules of propriety dictated he try some of the tea. He added some sugar and milk as was suggested before stirring it thoroughly and taking a sip.

"Mm!" he hummed, surprised by how much he enjoyed.

"I had nearly forgotten the taste of food and drink made to actually have flavor," Mason thought.

He took another sip, savoring the taste of the first thing he had consumed that wasn't just military rations. Then, he put his mind back to the matter of the day and set the half-emptied teacup down, facing his host and the sheriff.

"Now, this Silver Savior business," Mason said. "You mentioned a plan you have concocted earlier?"

"Well, 'tis actually our Iron Lady Agatha's strategy," Mayor Boyd confessed. He motioned towards the sheriff, prompting her to take over. "She will explain it better than I."

"Very well," Mason looked intently at Sheriff Agatha.

The sheriff set down her own cup of tea before setting upright with her hands neatly folded in her lap.

"A few nights ago, we managed to capture one of their number after they loosed Wasp Giants on the city. Barren van Buren, his name is," Agatha began.

"Wasp Giants?" Mason gasped. "How dreadful! But why?"

"Because we very close to uncovering their secrets," Agatha answered. "The best way in and out of the region cuts right through the east side of the Turgen Mountains. I went into the old Turgen Mines with some men to find an entrance to the natural cave systems. No sooner had we found a good place to begin tearing down a wall did the wasps descend on us before spreading into the city."

"By Valhalla!" the exclamation burst immutably from Mason.

"The swarm was far smaller than we thought it be, but it did its job," Agatha said. "It stopped our digging and kept the city guard and my deputies rooting out stray Wasp Giants throughout the city over the last few days. However, for all their planning, the Silver Saviors made one fatal mistake, they were unable to escape the ire of the very beasts they had unleashed. My men managed to recover a survivor and bring him in. He's currently in The Pit. Ferny is wringing him for everything he's worth, but he hasn't broken… yet."

Mason felt his throat tighten at the mention of Ferny, the mayor's favorite torturer, and master of Gerebellum's most famous dungeon, The Pit. A long round hole that had been dug into the earth under the Túr Raghnaill, a tower Keep near the geographical center of the city. The Pit's walls had been constructed of stone blocks and a long spiral staircase descended along its wall into its depths. Many doors lined the wall beside the stairwell, each a level deeper into the spiral. Those who went in did not leave, except to be publicly executed. Mason almost pitied this poor Barren for his fate. However, hearing he purposefully unleashed a swarm of Wasp Giants on the city curbed the captain's sympathies.

"Well, if he has fallen into Ferny's hands, he will soon speak," Mason said.

"I thought so, too," Agatha answered. "But then the other day I visited Mr. Van Buren during one of his 'sessions' with Ferny."

When she walked into that torture room, Barren was tied to the racks with Ferny and Brutus working the pulleys, tightening the ropes. As Agatha approached, Barren was already screaming as the cords dug relentlessly into his skin and pulled at his muscles and bones.

Barren had been stripped to the waist, allowing Agatha to get a look at Ferny's handiwork thus far. Barren was covered in numerous red streaks, bruises, burns and cuts. Several small scabbed over puncture wounds peppered his now pale and malnourished body like measles, courtesy of Ferny's metal pins applied to various pressure points. His fingers were crooked and nearly unusable, and his thumbs and big toes had been cut off. It also seemed some of his teeth had already been torn out, because he did not have a mouthful like before. The young man was barely recognizable.

Barren's face contorted with pain as he bit into his lip, trying to stop the screams and control the pain. Agatha signaled Ferny and Brutus to pause. The two men obeyed, but they did not let up the pressure they had already applied. The sheriff stood before the suspended man as though she were about to purchase something at a store counter. Despite his agony, Barren became aware of a presence standing in front of him and he focused to look at her. At first, his eyes flashed of fear, but then hardened with defiance.

"Had enough?" Agatha asked coolly.

Anger flashed in Barren's eyes and his head jerked back before it shot forward as he spewed a mouthful of spittle onto her face. Agatha did not react except to calmly reach into one of her pockets and dab at her face. Ferny and Brutus took that as their cue to continue and pushed on the pulleys with everything they had. Barren let out another cry as the ropes tore at his arms and legs.

Pop! One of Barren's shoulders came loose from its socket, and he belted out a shriek which echoes through the pit and back.

"Ah, there we go," Ferny said. "Alright, give slack, Brutus."

The large mute man waved as they applied slack, letting Barren sink to the floor, writhing in pain, and clutching his shoulder. Ferny and Brutus gathered to Agatha's sides, looking down on the whimpering man. Barren looked up at them, but not in fear. He sneered again.

"You devils…" he said in near tears. "You think the Valkyrie will ever come… for the likes of you…"

Agatha just smiled.

"Perhaps not, but I hear Hel always offers ample career opportunities," she answered.

Back in the present, Agatha glanced out the window, towards the tower which stood above the ghastly dungeon Barren was being held in.

"That one… he's too many convictions to break before the Silver Saviors escape," the sheriff said.

"You are certain?" Mason asked.

"More than certain," Agatha answered. "So, we will try another approach."

Mayor Boyd grinned, almost like a child in anticipation of reaching the good part of the story. Mason's face remained unchanged, but he had a feeling he knew where this was going.

"However… I don't think we'll need him to talk, after all," Agatha said.

"I knew it," Mason said. "Bait."

A cold smile slowly spread over the sheriff's face.

"Ay…" Agatha answered cleverly. "Why waste time trying to make a stubborn bird sing in its cage when you can instead use the bird to lure the alley cats?" she finished.

Mason quirked a doubtful brow at her.

"This of course assumes the Silver Saviors will be foolhardy enough to even attempt breaking into the Túr Raghnaill to enter The Pit," he said.

The mayor just chuckled in response.

"Believe you me, Captain. Lucien's Cheap Side Guard, or Silver Saviors, or whatever you decide to call them… are the most audacious people you will never meet," he said. "They would dare to even abduct and drug members of nobility into amnesia, as was the fate of poor Sir Reginald."

Mason gaped back, and indignant fury almost took, if not for his curiosity about the name the mayor had said.

"Lucien?" Mason asked uncertainly.

"Lucien, Captain of the Cheap Side Guard," Agatha repeated. "A good friend to our captured Mr. Barren van Buren, and both act as officers among this unsanctioned group of miscreants who claim to uphold law and order in the slums, frequently thumbing their noses at the real city guard."

"Ah, so you suspect that if this Barren is with the Silver Saviors as well, then the two groups may be one and same," Mason ventured.

"We are all but certain," Boyd answered. "But they are a slippery lot who have dodged justice for years now. Between weaseling their way out of every trap, sneaking in and out of the city no matter how we tighten security, they can evaded us completely. We will have one chance only to capture Lucien and his inner circle. What better way to accomplish that than to lure him into one of our own facilities?"

Now their bold gamble made sense. Mason had just one more question:

"How then will you make it known that Mr. Barren is in your custody?"

Agatha and the Mayor smiled back.

"The city criers were ordered to begin making their rounds as soon as you arrived at my gate," Boyd said. "In a few hours, the whole city will hear a speech I'm going to give concerning this very matter."

"No better way to get the word out," Mason thought.

"You are certain of this?"

"Beyond any doubt, Lord Odin," Lenneth answered.

She was on knee, bowing to her lord and lady before Odin's throne, now in her Valkyrie gear which she had shifted into before entering. Odin sat with Freya and Loki at his sides. Freya was on Odin's right, hovering as usual while Loki leaned against the oversized stone seat on the god king's left. It took everything Lenneth had not to reprimand Loki's lack of propriety.

"Division among the Undead," Odin smirked as he scratched his chin. "Well, is that not fascinating?"

"Indeed, Lord Odin," Lenneth answered. "Although, this was not an entirely unexpected development."

"Oh?" Freya curiously inquired.

"Yes," Lenneth nodded. "I had been told by a highly questionable source that there was division in the ranks of the Undead before. I did not know if I could believe them, but yesterday I saw proof with my own eyes."

Freya narrowed her eyes crossly.

"You had this information prior? Why did you not report it before?" she demanded.

"Forgive me, Lady Freya," Lenneth contritely answered. "I did not think it wise to render news I could not verify."

"That is not for you to decide," Freya lectured. "You report all you hear, even rumors, and let us decide what to make of them. You seem to frequently forget your place as of late, Lenneth."

Lenneth lowered her head in her bowed position, silently taking her lady's criticism.

"Now, now, Freya-Love," Loki spoke, raising a hand to stop the queen.

Freya looked glared at him. Odin looked at Loki neutrally as the Trickster walked around to the throne's front, positioning himself almost between Asgard's rulers and the Valkyrie.

"On a day-by-day basis, your Valkyries are tasked with many decisions only they can make on the spot, and I am sure they hear a great many things they decide lack the foundation to be worth reporting," Loki explained. "We could go back and forth until Ragnarök debating whether Lenneth should have reported this before. That would be a waste of time, though, I believe. Thus, I think we can afford to give some slack in this instance."

Freya's expression steeled further. Odin could already sense another ugly debate between his wife and his blood brother coming and raised a halting hand.

"Enough," the All-Father firmly said.

Freya wanted to protest, but Odin held up his hand again, this time more stiffly. She made a displeased noise with her throat and hovered backwards a slightly before snootily turning away.

"Loki is right. Lenneth has reported the information to us, even if she did it later than we would have preferred. That is all that matters," Odin said.

Odin turned his attention to Lenneth and Loki stepped aside.

"You may rise, Lenneth," the All-Father said. "Sitting on that knee must be getting uncomfortable."

"Not at all," Lenneth answered, and then stood. "But thank you, Milord."

The Valkyrie mouthed a thank you to Loki as well, who just bowed obligingly from Odin's side.

"Bu-but, Husband!" Freya protested. "It is really alright?"

"Calm," Odin quietly told her. "It is done, but…"

Odin leaned forward on his throne as he addressed Lenneth, "From now on, at least submit a report to Loki, even if what you have heard is only a rumor."

"Of course, Lord Odin," Lenneth complied.

"Thank you. We are at a delicate stage in our operations against the Three Kingdoms," Odin explained. "Nothing can be omitted going forward, even if it concerns only the Undead."

Lenneth bowed again, acknowledging the order.

"Now, then," Odin said. He glanced at Freya, "If that matter has been settled in a satisfying matter?"

Freya sighed, giving in. She nodded.

"Very good," Odin turned to Lenneth again. "You said there is another matter you wish to discuss with us, Lenneth?"

"Yes, of course," Lenneth answered. She subconsciously tightened her grip on the rolled-up parchment in her hands. "It concerns a structure the Undead have erected in the St. Monferaigne mountains. I first heard rumors of it from my einherjar a few weeks ago, but I could not take the time to verify it until recently."

She paused, not knowing how her masters would take the news, and then continued, "Rumors among the mortals speak of two towers made of flesh and bone as big as any castle keep or fort. They are said to be in the Southwest near Gerebellum and nestled among the St. Monferaigne mountains."

"Flesh Towers?" Freya gaped.

"Yes," Lenneth nodded. "The orb which caused the atmospheric anomaly in Crell Monferaigne, casting a wilderness region into a cursed winter was said to have come from the tower in the mountains."

Lenneth took a breath.

"Go on," Odin urged.

"I was performing reconnaissance of the St. Monferaigne Mountain tower before I was drawn to the Solde Catacombs," Lenneth stated. "It is, alas, one of the flesh towers built in monument to Queen Hel."

Odin and Freya's jaws both dropped in response. Asgard's queen's face then twisted in rage.

"She would dare to construct such an abomination upon Midgard?" Freya all but growled. "Why have we not been informed earlier?"

Lenneth flinched despite her best attempts not to.

"We did," Loki spoke up again.

Odin and Freya gave him matching uncertain glances, requesting him to elaborate.

"All the information is in a file Lenneth and I have submitted for a case review concerning the state of Midgard," Loki explained. "You will find it on the docket for upcoming hearings."

Freya was again visibly agitated, and she had a tone to match when she called out, "Gna! I have need of you."

There was a shimmer in the air beside Lenneth and the queen's handmaiden appeared.

"Yes, Your Majesty!" Gna nervously answered and bowed.

"Gna, retrieve a case file from the docket and bring it here, please," Freya sharply ordered.

"Yes, Milady," Gna hastily complied. "What is the case file's category and number, though?"

"Loki," Odin prompted with a wave.

"Category: Middle Realms. Location: Midgard. File Number: 66.584.27," Loki said.

Gna repeated the number, and then bowed before vanishing again.

"If Hel has such a foothold on Midgard, we must act quickly," Odin resolutely said. He leaned forward as he pondered a next move.

"Removing this particular blight from the human realm will not be easy," Freya pointed out.

"No, but it is a necessity," Odin muttered.

Lenneth raised her fist to her mouth and coughed deliberately into it.

"If it pleases Milord and Lady, while we wait for Gna to return with the document," the Valkyrie said. "I have some thoughts on dealing with the flesh tower."

Odin looked at her, clearly intrigued.

"You do?" he asked. "Then, by all means, share your thoughts."

"I thank you for your consideration," Lenneth said. "I have only observed the tower from afar, as I did not dare to get any closer to it. It is well-protected in a strategically sound location deep in the St. Monferaigne Mountains. The structure itself has been erected on a barren valley near a cliff overlooking the ocean on one side. On its other side, it is surrounded by several mountain peaks with many caves. I sensed the presence of legions of Undead dwelling within."

"You were wise to keep your distance, then," Loki said.

"Of course," Lenneth said. "It would take an army to have a chance of approaching the tower head on to tear it asunder. One I do not presently possess."

"Indeed. Could you tell how many Undead inhabited this remote area?" Loki asked.

Lenneth shook her said.

"Alas, Lord Loki, the auras were so numerous, butt here must have thousands. Perhaps ten-thousand strong dwelling in the mountains," she said.

Odin scowled as he made a quick calculation of what they would need to overcome such odds.

"Frustrating and more frustrating," he muttered.

"I had thought to wait out the day near the structure," Lenneth continued. "As rumor has it the gates of the tower open at night, unleashing its demonic inhabitants upon the land. I wanted to observe what I would be up against once inside. The events in the Solde Catacombs made it prudent for me to return much earlier, alas."

"Yes, your wounded einherjar," Freya indifferently said. "The girl from Yamato is well now, I trust."

"Yes," Lenneth said. "The dark of the catacombs did not taint Nanami."

"Good," Freya was relieved.

One resource they could keep using.

"Hmm," Freya hummed thoughtfully as her thoughts turned to the flesh tower. "They certainly found the ideal location. Difficult to breach the tower with watchers on all sides to prevent intruders from getting in. They could easily flank any force that approaches it. Even if we were to invade during the day, they would be certain to brave the sun's light to stop us."

"Yes," Odin unhappily concurred. "As much as I am loathe to say it, Hel's followers among the Undead have outdone themselves with this arrangement. This particular weed has gotten its roots in deep."

Odin shook off the glum and regarded Lenneth again.

"You said you may have a solution," he asked.

"Perhaps," Lenneth answered.

"We are listening," Freya said.

"Thank you," Lenneth quickly bowed, and continued. "I propose a joint operation. An army of Aesir, einherjar, and elves would have to break through the Undead's own armies to enter the Black Dream Tower. That could take some time."

"Indeed," Odin agreed. "It will be a glorious battle they will make songs of."

The All-Father turned to Lenneth with interest, "You said… a joint operation?"

"Yes, Milord," Lenneth answered. "While an army from Asgard lays siege to the tower in the valley, itself, a small group could come up from the cliff and slip inside the tower to destroy it."

Lenneth then clanked her gauntleted fist against her chest-plate "I would be more than happy to volunteer my einherjar and myself to do this part of the task."

"And who would lead the distracting army?" Odin asked.

"Lord Thor, I would hope," Lenneth replied.

Freya raised a brow. "Why Thor?"

"As far as the residents of Midgard know, including the Undead, Lord Thor is still the protector of Midgard," Lenneth told her. "His presence would be expected. If someone else were to be sent, it might be cause for suspicion and the Undead may proceed with more caution than they might otherwise bother to exercise."

Odin chuckled, and then leaned his head back as his amusement gave way to a full laugh. While Loki smirked at his blood brother, Freya and Lenneth stared at him uncertainly, both wondering why he was entertained. Then, Odin stopped and looked down on Lenneth with a pleased grin.

"You have truly thought this out," he praised her. "You are truly the greatest of the Valkyries."

"I am undeserving of such praise, My Liege," Lenneth humbled replied.

Odin chuckled, and leaned back on his throne, stroking his chin as he considered all he had been told. Freya looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"Beloved, we still need Thor for… the ongoing war effect," Freya reminded him.

Lenneth noticed the pause and mental rewording in the middle of that sentence.

"So, the rumor is that elf spoke of is true," the battle-goddess concluded.

"Oh, Frigg," Odin answered his wife. "Be that as it may, I believe Lenneth's plan and rationale hold enough merit to warrant further discussion. Have Gna send for our sons and our other officers as soon as she brings the document. We will hold a preliminary council."

While Freya sputtered in protest, the All-Father focused his remaining eye on Lenneth. She saw something eager, almost hungry, in his gaze she did not know if she altogether liked.

"I don't like it. Not one bit," Bedelia grumbled. "What is that fool mayor thinking?"

Captain Mason and the Cavalry-Breakers had passed through the city a few hours ago. None among the Silver Saviors found their presence comforting at all. Bedelia had, since watching those proud men ride through city, come home, and shut the windows of her little house. Her granddaughters watched as she fussed about the kitchen and continued to mutter to herself. Gloria and Ingrid exchanged troubled looks in silence, and neither touched their dinner plates. At one point, Bedelia left the kitchen altogether, leaving the half-dwarves by themselves.

Gloria watched her cousin poke her vegetables around with her fork. She didn't meet Gloria's gaze, preferring to look down at the food she picked at.

"Mason's Cavalry-Breakers?" Gloria's voice was a sigh.

"Bully, I wish we hadn't missed it," Ingrid muttered.

"Why?" Gloria asked. "Can't mean anythin' good."

"But wot could they be 'ere for?" Ingrid asked.

"Us," Gloria blunted answered.

That had the effect of making Ingrid tense and stab right through several boiled carrots and a piece of broccoli. Ingrid, the half-dwarven girl with the pink hair and well-tanned skin finally looked up at her paler blonde counterpart.

"What good're they for us?" Ingrid asked. "They fight other cavalrymen out in wide open battlefields. They'll be as cramped as a bull in a crate here."

"I don't understand it, honestly," Gloria murmured to herself. "Why them and not Captain McLeod's Dread Fighters?"

"Don't even say that," Ingrid shuddered.

Gloria's stomach sunk. She'd had a feeling that was the case. She opened her mouth, but was stopped by the sound of their grandmother stomping back into the kitchen. Both were surprised to see Bedelia had retrieved her archery gear from the hallway closet. The quiver and bow hung from her back. The old ex-assassin was tying the supportive gauntlets into place on her forearms. She looked up at her granddaughters sternly.

"Well, don't just look at yer food, eat this," she ordered. "'Cause we 'ave secrets to uncover as soon as ye've finished yer plates."

Ingrid stood up, leaning over the old wooden table eagerly, causing it to shake. Gloria had to grab the table to steady it under her cousin's rashness to prevent it from tipped over on its side.

"We gonna bust some heads?" Ingrid asked, pumping a fist in the air.

"Ingrid!" Gloria scolded her.

"No, we'll be gettin' questions answered, fool child," Bedelia answered. "Now sit, and eat yer veggies. Granny's still gotta ready herself."

Ingrid groaned and plopped herself down in her chair, staring down at the various greens on her plate it was a pile of slime. Gloria simply began eating, although in her current worried state, she could taste nothing.

A few minutes passed, and they both were startled by a loud rapping at the door. Both half-dwarves jumped from their chairs and ran, treading lightly into the hall outside the kitchen. Ingrid took a sharp left, followed by Gloria and they stopped at the hallway closet. Ingrid jerked the door open before grabbing both their weapons. She handed Gloria her cutlass and gripped her battleax tightly.

Bedelia appeared at the end of the hall by the front door. She and her granddaughters exchanged a nod as the old woman took a knife out from her belt and hid it under her forearm in case she needed to get the drop on their visitor. Bedelia did not unlock the door just yet. There was another pounding on their front door.

"Who goes there?" Bedelia called.

"It's us, Maximillian and Betty," the former's gruff voice called from the other side. He sounded like he was out of breath. "Let us in, already!"

Betty's face appeared in one of the windows. Her bright green eyes were wide and worried.

"Come on, already!" she called hoarsely, also sounding breathless.

"Hold yer horses," Bedelia gruffly barked back.

Ingrid and Gloria both 'whewed', and set their weapons down, leaning them against the hallway wall. Bedelia slid the knife back into its sheath and lifted from the bolt holding the front door shut. It squeaked on its hinge as it was swung back. Bedelia pulled the door open. The instant the gap was big enough, Maximillian and Betty leapt through into Bedelia's small foyer. Father and daughter were both panting, taking deep gulps of air. The old woman gave them a displeased look for not waiting to be welcomed in, but said nothing as she closed the door behind them and lowered the bolt back down.

Ingrid and Gloria approached their guests.

"Hey, what's the rush, you bums. You…" Ingrid's quip died as she and her cousin noticed how winded, and pale Maximillian and Betty looked.

Father and daughter had matching expressions of fear as their breathing slowed. Bedelia took notice of Max and Betty's anxiety, too, before she had even turned away from securing the front door.

"What dreadful thing has ye both worried so?" Bedelia asked.

"The city crier… said big announcement… from Mayor Boyd… in two hours…" Maximillian forced out between breaths.

Betty took one last big breath before taking over for him, "Said it has to do with The Silver Saviors. Said we'll no longer be 'disturbin' the peace'. Mayor Boyd's givin' it, 'imself."

"The Lord Mayor?" Gloria exclaimed.

Bedelia put a finger to her lips.

"Not too loud, child," she cautioned.

Ingrid stood in silence, trying to digest how the pieces fit together.

"Captain Mason's Cavalry-Breakers, and now this? They ain't just gonna invade the slums, is they?" she thought.

"Where in two hours?" Bedelia asked their visitors.

"The market square, just outside his office," Maximillian answered tightly. "The whole city will be there. Several city criers have spread out to make sure everyone hears, too, from the sounds of it."

"So will we," Betty added. "Some of the boys split off to go put the word out. Ev'ry Silver Savior who likes livin' will be listenin'."

"Could it be a trap?" Gloria asked.

"Fir who?" Ingrid asked. "Not a soul'll be fool enough to try somethin' with a crowd about."

Bedelia's throat rumbled while she thought about it all. She crossed her arms and bowed her head with her eyes shut while the puzzle pieces knocked about in her mind.

"The arrival of them cavalry bashers, and now this announcement from the mayor," she pondered. To her, there was one conclusion, "The gatherin' won't be the trap. What he says will be."

Bedelia sighed, and began undoing the bindings on her reinforced leather gauntlets.

"Well, looks like snoopin'll be put on hold," she said. She looked at her granddaughters in the hall. "Girls, come help Grandmama, please. Put away me gear and hide yer weapons. We have a public speech to be presentable for."

"Yes, Granny," both half-dwarves replied.

"Oyez, oyez, oyez!" the town crier bellowed as he walked down the busy cobblestone street. "Big announcement from Mayor Boyd at the marketplace! So, hark, all of you! At half past four, it'll be! He calls ye, the whole city there to listen! His office, at half past four! He has a plan to deal with The Silver Savior blight once 'n' for all! Oyez, oyez, oyez…"

As he passed by, five filthy figures stood in a secluded alcove, the front of an old, closed down store. To the passing eye, they were just regular, filthy slum dwellers loitering while those more well-to-do passed them by. Had any bothered to and examine them, though, and they might have recognized Lucien with a face covered in dried, gray sewage.

"…at half past four, it'll be!"

"That's in two hours," Lucien muttered thoughtfully.

"What could Mayor Boyd even have to say?" Claire quietly mumbled.

"What's the call, Bossman?" Rusty whispered to Lucien.

"We still have to report in," Joe said. "We've been gone for nearly a week."

"It could take a while to round everyone up to do that," Taran countered. "And this speech will be much sooner than we can do that."

"Well, Lucien?" Claire repeated Rusty's question.

Their leader thought about it a moment as he listened to the crier cycle through their message again. He watched the man's form recite into the distance as his voice and echo became less and less audible. Lucien's mind was torn in two directions. He knew they had to report in and be briefed on the current situation, but if the Mayor was putting out a word all over the city, this was something major.

"I don't think we can afford to miss this speech," Lucien said. He looked the others each in the eye, and said, "We'll report in as soon as we've heard it."

First, he looked down at himself, and self-consciously raised his arm to sniff his armpit. He wrinkled his nose.

"We all smell like dead sewer rats," Lucien thought.

"Well…" Claire pushed.

"We need to wash up first," Lucien said. Then, nodded towards the town crier as he added, "Because we seem to have been summoned. Can't be rude and play hooky, now, can we? Come on, we have two hours to get ready."

Claire mouthed a "Thank you", ever grateful for the chance to get out of those sullied clothes. Then, they slunk into a nearby alley. Thankfully, the only people they ran into didn't look much better than they did. None of them seemed to notice the stink coming off Lucien's crew, either. For that, Claire felt mildly less self-conscious.

As they walked, Lucien glanced back at the city street they had come from.

"This must all be related to the incident with Wasp Giants," he concluded. He narrowed his eyes. "The Lord Mayor and The Iron Lady will be looking to pin that someone. Most likely us."

Deep in his heart, Lucien dreaded what they were going to hear, but they had to go. That took priority. They had little time to get ready.

"I won't be your pawn, Boyd," Lucien quietly vowed.

"Gods, please, just let me die," Barren thought.

The only thing he even felt anymore was pain. Dull, throbbing, neverending pain when they left him alone. Sharp, burning pain when Ferny and Brutus put him in one of their devices. Barren lied in twisted misery on his back in his cell, if it could even be called that. In truth, it was more a cage befitting an animal. It was a small rectangle niche carved into the wall just high enough for its occupant to get up on their hands and knees. Which was fine, Barren figured with humorless irony. The red flash marks on his leg tendons were telltale reminders of just one way they had crippled him. His little prison was just long enough for him to stretch out in. Barren was confined by three stones walls, a stone ceiling, an unrelentingly hard stone floor, and a barred door which lifted to let him out.

Barren tried not to look out past the bars. All he'd see was another carved out little cell across from his containing another poor soul who'd had the misfortune of being put in Ferny's charge. Many of the inhumanely small cells were empty, but his captors had specifically chosen to put him across from another. Barren didn't know why, but he supposed it was to forcefully remind him of his current lot. As if it was possible to forget. Miserable moans from throughout the cell block were already making it impossible to forget. Barren clamped his jaw shut, trying not to add his own voice to the wails.

"Please, just shut up," he silently begged.

So, Barren's eyes remained trained on the ceiling. He also didn't dare glance down at his hands, because he didn't want to be reminded of just what they had taken from him. The phantom pain of trying to twiddle thumbs which were no longer there were torment enough. The cold stones against his back were no comfort to the sores Barren had received during his latest 'session'. There were no blankets or even straw in his little cell. Just chilly air and stone, and he could feel every bit of it in his near nakedness.

By now, the clothes Barren had been brought in wearing were a mere loincloth, covering privates he wasn't sure were even going to be there much longer. He closed his eyes, trying to just drift off into sleep, his one release. His sore back had just begun to relax against the floor when loud jangling reverberated throughout. It was followed by a 'click', a 'clank', and a groaning of metal on metal. Barren's ears had become far too familiar with these sounds. He and his block mates' tormentors had returned. The heavy thud of boots echoed, and they were coming nearer.

"Oh, what now?" Barren was at last forced to turn his gaze aside to look through the bars of his cell.

From the sounds of the overlapping steps, he knew there had to be at least three people coming. Barren could have rolled onto his side to look out to confirm this, but he was just so tired and in so much pain. He just could not work up the motivation to move his broken body.

Thud… Thud… Thud… The steps had an intentionally slowness to them as they passed between the cells on either side. The moans had stopped, and Barren could feel the dread in the air. Who had they come for this time? Barren could just pick up the quickening of breath as the approaching men came to an occupied cell, they'd pause, giving the victim within reason to be afraid. Then, they'd just walk past, coming ever closer to Barren's cell. Their visitors were very close to the cells of Barren and his neighbor.

"We're near the end of the block, so it's either me, or him," Barren cast the man across him a glance.

The shadows of the three men stretched across the floor between Barren and the other prisoner's cells as they continued their measured stride through the block. Three pairs of legs walked into Barren's few, and he recognized those of the man in the lead.

"Gods damned Ferny!" he thought.

The three men stopped, pausing just long enough to let Barren and his neighbor guess who they were there for, and then they prompted turned towards Barren.

"Shith!" Barren slurred.

He scooted to the back of his cell, for all the good it was going to do him. Ferny and the two guards let out derisive chuckles. One of the guards gave the bars a kick.

"What's the matter?" he taunted Barren. "Don't wanna come out and play?"

Ferny bent down, leaning one hand against the wall as he did to look into Barren's cell. The old, thin torturer smiled, relishing the fear Barren felt for him.

"Ah, Mr. Van Buren," he greeted with faux pleasantry. "How are you this afternoon? Are the accommodations to your liking, sir?"

The guards laughed again. Barren did not answer. He remained pressed against the back wall, trembling. Why were they doing this? They'd just finished a several-hour session of trying to wrench answers out of him. He hadn't even been back in his hell prison of a cell for an hour, for pity's sake!

"Wha you w'nt?" Barren struggled to speak.

His jaws ached as it moved, and sounds that were easy before they pulled his teeth were now difficult.

"What do I want?" Ferny asked cheerily. "Why? Can't a man just come visit one of his guests?"

Ferny then dug the keys out of his pocket and reached down, undoing the lock. Then he grabbed the cross bar at the along the base of the swinging cell door and pulled it up. Then, he beckoned Barren to come out.

"Well, come on, then," Ferny cooed as though talking to a dog. "Have to get you ready fer tonight."

"Th… tonighth?" Barren asked.

"Ay, th… tonighth," Ferny mimicked his slurred speech mockingly. Then his smile deepened. "We're expectin' some friends of yer's to stop by 'n' pick ye up."

What?

Ferny went on, "They've been lookin' 'n' lookin', but none's found yer friend, Lucien, or his little poppet, the fetching redhead. And with ye so unwillin' to 'ave the nice chat wit' us, the Mayor and the Sheriff be tryin' somethin' new."

Barren didn't think it was possible, but he was feeling even colder now.

"The Mayor'll be givin' the big announcement that they'll be hangin' ye t'morrow," Ferny told him. "They figure that'll be the invitation The Silver Necklaces been needin' to come about."

Ferny's laugh came out in a hushed whisper.

"So, the man o' the hour will need to be presentable," he finished.

"No…" Barren spoke the word loud and clear as despair washed over him. "No…"

He didn't mind being hanged at this point. Death would be a release, but he knew in his heart of hearts what Lucien would do the instant he heard the news. And knowing it was a trap wasn't going to matter one bit to Lucien. He'd round up whoever he could, and he'd lead the charge to steal into The Pit to come rescue Barren.

Tears rolls down Barren's cheeks as he went limp in his cell.

"Damn it, Lucien! For once in your damn life, please, just save yourself!" he thought.

Finally, Ferny backed away.

"Bring him," he ordered the guards.

"Right," the guard complied.

They stepped forward, bending down as they reached into the cell, grabbing Barren roughly. He did not react or even cry out as he was dragged from his cell and lifted to his feet. Ferny took the lead again and the two guards half-carried, half-dragged their prisoner across the floor, back to the chambers where many a scream had been extracted from Barren.

"Here they come!" Arngrim shouted.

"Close ranks," Belenus said.

Arngrim, Lawfer, Belenus, and Janus did exactly that, forming a short line in front of Jelanda. Jelanda sharply sucked in some air nervously, instinctively reaching for the necklace she had been bid to wear for this exercise. It was a choker made of hard material, hastening in the back. It had no decoration, but the former princess could feel its magic suppressing energy at work preventing her from casting anything above normal spells.

"Jelanda!" Belenus called over his shoulder, bringing her back to reality.

"Y-yes!" she answered.

There was a line of headstones in front of the four einherjar. On the other side of which was a group of about a dozen or so dried up undead things Lenneth had called "Husks" coming at them from deeper in the graveyard. The more were arriving from both up and down in the narrow lane which broke up the old marker stones. The Husks had dried brown skin and filthy gray and black clothes. Their skeleton faces did not possess the shine of a Ghast's eyes, but these undead could shriek like them.

Jelanda tuned out the sound as she focused. Janus looked around the field of battle, noting all the best places to act defensively with the precious few moments they still had. They were in a small opening in the middle of an old, but expansive graveyard. Arngrim's eyes scanned their incoming enemy one last time before he made a decision.

"Little One," he called over to Jelanda. "Take the two on our right."

Then he turned to Belenus and Lawfer.

"Belenus, Lawfer, take the four on our left. Janus, cover me while I go greet to these other guys cutting across the field," he ordered.

"Right!" the other einherjar all answered.

Then, Arngrim jumped the line of markers, heading towards the main force of Husks. Janus stopped behind a tall slab, taking cover before lining up a pair of shots. Belenus and Lawfer broke off to the left, raising their weapons and bellowing their challenge at their chosen opinions. Jelanda turned to the right, having finished conjuring up a spell. The walking corpses would be within striking range shortly, so the teen mage backed up to give herself even a second more to act.

Jelanda licked her lips nervously.

"I wish Nanami was here, too," she thought. "But of course, Lady Valkyrie's started her on Great Magic training."

With that thought, she ignited the magic within her.

Arngrim tore across the grass and soft earth screaming bloodthirsty intent as he reached four of the Husks. Two of the reanimated Husks split off from the two in the middle, who kept charging Arngrim in a straight line while the other flanked the large warrior. Arngrim just smirked. As they leapt at him from four separate directions, he swung Dáinsleif, aiming his trusty Claymore well. In one swing, Arngrim cut through all their torsos, cleaving their upper halves neatly apart from their legs.

Arngrim smirked as he watched their lower halves fall while their upper bodies continued to fly in the air, propelled by sheer momentum. His sense of victory was short-lived, because three of the halved Husks reached for him and grabbed hold by Arngrim's arms and around the neck as they flew past him. The fourth landed at his feet.

"What… thhhurk!" Arngrim grunted.

Their sudden weight threw him stumbling back towards the line of headstones. The three ghoulish things gripped him tight and pulled themselves in close. The one that had him by the neck tried to pull its arms around his throat tightly.

"Hey, get off me!" Arngrim rasped.

He braced his neck to keep the Husk from getting its arms under his chin and reached to pull the ones on his arms off, but it was difficult to move them with the Husks clinging to them. The two on his arms began biting at him, but they weren't close enough to get at anything except the metal of his shoulder guards. The one at his feet crawled over and tried to grab his ankles to trip him up. Arngrim saw it coming despite his attention being pulled in multiple directions. The instant it was close enough, he raised one booted foot and stomped its head in. The Husk continued to feel around, but without its head, it couldn't see, so it was easy for Arngrim to just step away as he continued fighting the three clinging to him.

Arngrim glanced back at the line of headstones and jumped back, allowing himself to drop to the ground, slamming his back into one of the big, sturdy ones. The Husk clinging to his back let out a pained yelp as its diaphragm collapsed between the big man and the stone slab. It's body fell apart and its arms and head fell away, freeing Arngrim's neck. Then Arngrim heaved himself up from a sitting position, rolling onto his side, and pinning one of the Husks on his arms against the grass. It struggled and hissed at him, but could not get free. The mercenary then beat the one clinging to his raised arm against the same tombstones he'd crushed the other with. In just three slams, the creature let go.

Arngrim grabbed the Husk by its leathery head as soon as plopped to the ground and bashed its skull against the sharp edge of the rectangular stone. With one arm free, Arngrim grabbed Dáinsleif and split the third Husk's skull with it.

He laughed as he got back up, wrenching himself loose from its grip.

"Is that you got?" Arngrim mockingly asked.

As soon as Arngrim leapt over line of headstones to charge the Husks, Janus ducked behind a marker, raising both twin crossbows upright as he peered around the side. Arngrim was accosted by them of them right away with the other five turning to go back them up.

"I think not!" Janus jumped turned and stood on his knees.

He used the flat top of the carved stone to help aim. At first, his sights aligned on their bodies, but then he thought better of it and altered his focus. One of the Husks picked up a stick and held up to knock Arngrim over the head while he was distracted with the clinging upper halves of his three down foes. Janus took a chance, and aimed predicting how the undead thing's arm would move. The energy bolt flew and pierced through its elbow before exploding, severing the Husk's whole forearm.

The Husk hissed at its missing limb. It and two of the others spotted Janus quickly. The assassin, meanwhile, fired two of his other shots off at the two Husks still running at Arngrim. He hit them both through a knee. The energy arrows combusted, sending both creatures falling almost helplessly to the ground. Now he could deal with the ones coming at him. With one shot left, Janus aimed and shot one of the Husks which still had both arms right in the face, blasting its skull to bits. The Husk then stumbled blindly around, unable to get a sense of direction. It was left behind by its two compatriots.

With only one unharmed Husk and the other missing an arm coming at him, Janus holstered his bows. He hadn't the time to reload them. His hands snaked along his belt and found a pair of long daggers he loosed from their sheaths before hopping over the gravestones as well. He ran low, crossing the yard swiftly like the shadow of a bird. In the corner of his eye, Janus saw the ones missing legs crawling impudently.

"They cannot be killed by conventional means. I must disable them another way," Janus decided. His gaze returned to his two opponents, focusing on their eyes. "So be it."

The one-armed Husk growled, throwing a punch at Janus, who nimbly leaned to the side, completely evading the strike. The assassin switched to holding his daggers with the blades down and threw himself into the Husk. He swiped his hand in an arc, slashing the undead beast's eyes. It shrieked as it staggered away before tripping on a tombstone.

The other tried to tackle Janus, running at him with arms outstretched. The assassin crouched down, throwing himself under its reaching hands, into the creature's legs. The Husk's body jerked forward as it was briefly sent careening through the air before landing facedown on the ground. Janus pounced immediately, stomping down hard on its back before reaching down and slitting its eyes as well. Then Janus jumped back, out of reach as the enraged living corpse turned over, lashing out with its hands in every direction, trying to find the man who had blinded it.

"Is that you got?" he heard Arngrim laugh.

He and the scarred warrior exchanged looks.

"Hey! You shoulda left some more for me!" Arngrim pretended to be offended.

Janus rolled his eye, and then both men took in their surroundings. There were no other Husks coming for them. Any that could still move had missing limbs or were blinded. For all intents and purposes, they can routed and subdued this enemy. So, they turned to check and Belenus and Jelanda.

The two Husks approached Jelanda in single-file.

"Perfect," the princess thought as she activated her spell.

The air filled with the ethereal glow of the power she had conjured, leaving only the intonement of the spell left to cast it.

"Fire Lance!" Jelanda shouted.

She fired a partial charge of her spell, letting fly three fireballs through the air at her first opponent. The Husk tried dodge it, but the three flaming projectiles whistled through the air like arrows, punching into the living corpse and combusting the thing into thousands of pieces. The one after it barreled all through the debris left behind by its counterpart, shrieking in its unrelenting assault.

"Fire Lance!" Jelanda repeated.

She fired the other half of the spell, sending the three remaining comet-like shots at her enemy. This Husk was ready, and dove down on the ground. Jelanda felt her breath leave her like it was being squeezed out of her as her spell missed. The Husk looked up and growled at her. The princess began to panic and held her scepter upright as she hurriedly began casting another spell. The Husk was having none of it, leaping quickly to its feet. It leaned forward as it sped across the dirt path. Jelanda whimpered as she backed away. She held onto the charge of energy she already had gathered, willing herself not to lose control.

"No! Get away from me!" she cried before swinging her pearl-white scepter wildly.

A loud 'crack' tore through the air as she managed to land a blow across its face, staggering the undead thing and nearly turning its head clean around on its neck. Jelanda spun about and fled trying to finish the spell. The Husk recovered, letting out a guttural sound as it began to pursue her. She saw Belenus and Lawfer further down the lane. They stood over two beheaded and delimbed Husks which were strewn all over the ground. Off to the side, Janus and Arngrim dealing with the main group.

"Belenus! Lawfer!" Jelanda cried.

Both men turned.

"Hold on!" Belenus called back.

Lawfer began sprinting towards Jelanda first to intercept the Husk chasing her. Belenus also raised his sword, following the knight. Jelanda could hear its footsteps gaining on her, and she still didn't have a spell ready, just raw magical energy that had not been given shape. In another couple of steps, she could practically feel its breath on the back of her neck. She had to act, or be taken out. Jelanda looked back at her ran, aiming the base of her scepter at the beast, channeling all her energy into it.

"Just back off!" she shouted.

Then Jelanda forced out the raw magic in concentrated form. The end of her scepter crackled as a pale beam of light slammed against the Husk's stomach and sent it sprawling over the ground. Jelanda stopped and turned as she started over. She heard Belenus, Lawfer, Arngrim, and Janus all approaching.

"Stay back!" she shouted.

The men all paused, with Belenus and Janus both perplexed by her reaction. Lawfer raised a hand, signaling Belenus to stay back, and Arngrim found himself agreeing. The mercenary smirked, holding out one of his arms to keep Janus back.

From a few yards away, the Husk stumbled back to its feet, and after wobbling to get its balance, scrambled towards Jelanda. It saw the magic take form as a magic circle on the ground as it flowed through the girl.

"Fire Storm!"

The Husk never knew what hit it, and Jelanda watched its flaming bits and pieces sail through the air, with some even heading for her. The princess cried out, covering her head and face with her arms as the charred chunks rained down on her. Her disgust could not suppress the sensation of relief she was feeling.

"Thank goodness," Jelanda breathed.

She had somehow managed to fight off an opponent in close quarters and then defeated them on her own.

"With a basic spell, too" Jelanda thought.

"That wasn't so bad, was it?" Lawfer asked her.

"End simulation," an unseen voice called before the princess could answer.

In an instant, the world around them melted away and they were returned to the training grounds of The Golden Hall. The four einherjar turned as Lenneth approached them.

"Well done," she congratulated Jelanda.

The Valkyrie approached Jelanda, noticing with some amusement how frazzled the girl looked. The princess pulled the magic-reducing choker around her neck once more.

"Can I please remove this now, Lady Valkyrie?" she asked.

Lenneth nodded, and Jelanda reached around to the back of her neck to unclasp the necklace.

"I must ask, Jelanda," the goddess inquired. "Why did you not use your Spell Crystals or Spell Gems?"

Jelanda froze as the feeling of embarrassment washed through her like a biting cold wind. Lenneth saw the stupefied look on the girl's face and knew right away the girl had simply forgotten them. The goddess closed her eyes as she suppressed the frustration, and let Jelanda speak for herself before offering criticism.

"I…" the princess considered making up some kind of excuse, but then stopped herself and her arms hung limply at her sides. "I just forgot about them. You instructed me to focus on refining my use of magic for this exercise, so it never crossed my mind that even use them."

There was a snort from Arngrim, but otherwise everyone was quiet a moment. Lawfer just looked down, trying to keep his face neutral.

"I also specifically authorized using your Spell Crystals to put it in your mind," Lenneth said. "You need to listen more, young one."

"Forgive me, Lady Valkyrie," Jelanda contrite said.

"Forgetting the very tools you have at your disposal is an assured way of meeting a terrible end on the field of battle," Lenneth's tone was frank. Her stern gaze paralyzed the Artolian princess. "Such careless recklessness is why you are not ready for Great Magic even if you have mastered the technique."

"Yes, of course, Lady Valkyrie," Jelanda was nearly wilting now.

Lenneth decided at once to rein the harshness back with a bit of positive feedback.

"But the use of raw magic to drive the beast away and give yourself a moment more to mount your counterattack was still a good play," The Valkyrie admitted. "You are creative, Jelanda. More than once, you inventive use of magic has served us well. You must learn to take more care in battle, though."

Jelanda smiled slightly, feeling a bit better about her performance just now.

"Now, I believe that will be enough for one day," Lenneth finished. "You are all dismissed."

"Yes, Lady Valkyrie," Jelanda, Janus, and Belenus answered.

"Great," Arngrim said.

The princess and three noblemen bowed to Lenneth before they walked past her to head inside the palace. Arngrim was last. As he passed the Valkyrie, he noticed that she seemed to be deep in thought. Not troubled, but a mind at work.

"Wonder what she's thinkin' about?" Arngrim briefly wondered. Then he shrugged. "Oh, well. Not my problem. Probably. I think I'll throw back a couple of hornfuls of mead and see if I can't find Llewelyn. Haven't seen the little guy since he joined the main army."

"Where will you be going, Sir Lawfer?" Belenus asked.

"To watch Nanami practice," the knight answered. "I'm interesting in seeing how quickly she masters Great Magic."

"Ay, if our Magi could make that breakthrough, our battles will be easier," Belenus answered.

Once left alone, Lenneth stood and thought about the results of the exercise.

"If Lord Odin's council approves my proposed battle strategy, I will need Jelanda to be in top form for the battle ahead," she thought. She shook the unease off. "Right, training, I've not allowed Nanami a break yet. I should check to see if she has managed to solve Great Magic, herself, since I left her."

"Look at them all out there! They wait with baited breaths, even those not part of that damnable necklace-wearing rabble," Mayor Boyd smugly said as he gazed out the window.

He stood behind his desk in his office, stopping only to look over his speech one last time before heading out. He had pulled the curtain back to look out. Boyd was most pleased at the sight of the masses which had gathered to hear his speech. It mattered not why most of them were there, whether it was out of a sense of obligation, or simple curiosity, the ones he intended to hear it were certain to be there as well. The town criers had done their job, and now it was his turn to do his.

Boyd let the curtain fall back into its place. Agatha and Mason stood before his desk, at attention as though he were a battlefield commander. They had regrouped at his office to be present at the mayor's speech.

"Your adoring public awaits, Lord Mayor," Agatha said.

"Ay, they do," Boyd said. He took a seat at his desk, checking his speech. "And we best not keep them waiting long, eh?"

"Indeed, we shalln't," Agatha concurred.

Mason looked at her in the corner of his eyes, and then glanced towards the window. Even with it shut, the crowd was immutable being a few mere yards out on the street. The captain mulled over this scheme of the Sheriff's.

"A thought occurs to me about this scheme," Mason said.

The mayor and Agatha both looked at him, listening.

"How can we be certain this Lucien will even hear this speech?" he asked. "You said no one's seen him around the city since the Wasp Giant incident. Perhaps he perished in the onslaught."

"We are certain he will have survived the swarm," Agatha replied. "Even if not, then the capture of any successor will be just as acceptable. Their prospects of escape will be practically non-existent in The Pit, and storming the slums for the others will be much simpler without their leader."

"Indeed. Eradicating those rebellious wretches will be a simple of matter of… rodent extermination throughout the slums," Boyd finished.

"Like putting a storehouse with plague-tainted goods to the torch," Agatha added.

Mason looked between them in concern.

"This operation will be discriminate, yes?" the captain asked. "We are merely capturing criminals, correct?"

"Naturally," Boyd said without looking up from his papers. "'Tis only the slums' inhabitants we shall put to the blade."

Mason's shock was palpable.

You truly intend to exterminate all who live in the slums?" Mason gasped. "I did not join Gerebellum's military to slaughter citizens, no matter their social standing."

Agatha gave Mason an icy look with her remaining eyes.

"Dear Captain Mason," she began. "Who do you think cooperates with The Silver Savios, hides them in their own houses, covers for them, pools money and other resources for them? Who do you think they hide the stolen bondservants among? Or who stands to benefit the most from their criminal activity? The very lowborns they seek protect, of course. As far as I am concerned, the entire slum district is guilty of aiding and abetting them."

Mason's horror only grew as she spoke.

"Now wait a moment…" he muttered.

"Captain Mason," when Mayor Boyd spoke up, his voice was hard.

"Milord?" Mason answered.

The mayor stared down the captain with an angry fire in his eyes.

"Are you having treasonous thoughts?" he demanded.

"Treason?" Mason blurted out indignantly.

"Yes, treason," the warning in Boyd's voice was unmistakable. "You are aware that my authority as mayor comes directly from the king and his council?"

"Of course, Lord Mayor!" Mason answered quickly. "You are considered an extension of his will."

"Well, the king's will is that The Silver Necklace threat be crushed by any means necessary. The nobility fully supports this course," Mayor Boyd. "And you are duty-bound to obey the will of your king, yes?"

"Yes, of course," Mason forced himself not to hesitate.

"Good," Boyd's lips smiled broadly, but his eyes did not. "I would hate to have any foolish notions affect the decisions of any officers under my authority."

The mayor then leaned closer to Mason with a sinister glare. "After all, do the actions of an officer also not reflect back on his men?"

Mason's mouth fell open as he realized what the mayor was saying.

"If the head has treasonous thoughts, then the body he commands would obey," Mayor Boyd said. "I would just loathe having to authorize an inquisition against an entire battalion of men, especially when they have only just returned to their fatherland."

Mason was speechless. This fat bastard was really threatening his men.

"But heavy are the shoulders of those who bear authority. Is that not right… Captain?" Boyd asked.

Mason forced himself not a gulp, retaining some semblance of a poker face. When he was silent a bit too long, Boyd pressed the attack again.

"Have we reached an understanding, then, Captain?" the mayor asked.

"Yes, Lord Mayor," Mason briskly answered. "Quite clear."

"So, I can count on you and your men to follow my every order to the best of your ability?" Boyd all but demanded.

"Yes, Lord Mayor," Mason said with a bow. "We will not fail you."

"Good," Boyd smiled again.

He glanced at the window behind him before addressing the Sherrif and the Captain. "Shall we?"

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," Mayor Boyd called as he gathered up the pages of his speech.

The receptionist opened the door, stepping in with a man in dark crimson robes with the hood pulled up, covering his features.

"Magus Reigan has arrived," she announced.

"Ah, good, good!" Boyd jovially greeted the magician. "Just in time, Master Reigan."

"A mage?" Mason asked.

He looked at Boyd questioningly. "What on Midgard are you needing a mage for?"

"Insurance that the crowd will remain under control," Boyd candidly answered.

"Ugh. We still stink of the sewers," Claire whined. She had just taken a whiff of herself. She grimaced before turning to Lucien. "I guess it's a blessing half the slums smell like this. Who's going to notice?"

Lucien raised a finger to his lips, looking around.

"They might if you speak too loudly," Lucien cautioned her.

"Right. Sorry," Claire bashfully covering her mouth.

"Do we really need to be here?" Rusty whispered, standing at Lucien's other shoulder. He was looked around nervously. "So many guards and deputies. Makes me nervous."

"Eyes forward, head held up, no slouching or cringing. Act normal," Lucien's whispered back.

"R-right," Rusty answered.

The stout rebel took a deep breath and tried to relax his stance, assuming the posture Lucien had told him. Taran and Joe sat at the dried-up fountain nearby among some people. To an outsider, it looked like they belonged.

"He should be out any moment now," Lucien muttered.

He glanced skyward. There was a thin cloud covering, but he could still see the sun. Almost half past four, so they'd be hearing the mayor's speech shortly.

"Good thing we returned when he did. Any later and we'd have missed this," Lucien thought. His eyes were drawn into the crowd around them. "The others must have heard the criers, too. I don't see anyone else from our band, but if I were in the mood to gamble, I'd bet most of them are probably here."

Oh, indeed, he was right. In another part of the plaza standing under a seller's open sided tent, Bedelia, her granddaughters, Maximillian, and Betty gathered. They all seemed nonchalant. Betty and Ingrid sat cross-legged in front of the others and Maximillian leaned back against the seller's table with his hands in his pockets. Bedelia and Gloria stood near the edge of the tent's covering. Bedelia's expression was unreadable while Gloria looked almost grim. The seller leaned to the side to see past them. Bedelia also noticed the heavy presence of many guards at the street corners all around them. Some roamed the crowd, and there were plenty out front of the mayor's office in case they got too rowdy.

"I hope all the youngsters just keep calm," the old woman thought. "Nothin' to be gained by bein' damn fool notions."

The door of the mayor's office then opened, and the crowd became considerably quieter as Boyd approached the podium set up at the top of the building's front steps. At his side ever dutifully was Sheriff Agatha and the recently returned Captain Mason. With the captain's helmet off, many in the crowd could see his face properly.

"He's become quite distinguished," someone noted. "He's gained some silver on his head."

Mayor Boyd raised his hands to quiet the crowd. Many did, if only out of curiosity. The mayor could tell from even a cursory glance over the sea of faces that there wasn't much love for him among the common folk, who'd nearly mobbed his office a few weeks ago. Bile rose in his throat as he recalled the event, and it galled him to no end that he'd needed that riffraff Lucien to prevent a riot.

"Well, the Common People's golden boy won't be long for this realm," Boyd smirked smugly.

He took in a breath to prepare speaking.

"Good people of Gerebellum. I bring you good tidings this evening," he proclaimed.

Boyd didn't bother to read the crowd or wait for them to fully quiet down before continuing, "For in less than a week's time, the brigands who call themselves The Silver Saviors will finally be brought to justice. Recently, information has fallen into the laps of your betters, and we intend to exploit it to the best of our abilities."

Now that got everyone's attention. They'd heard how the mayor's forces would finally get those dastardly Silver Saviors all before, but this promise of having real intel was something new.

"No longer will they torment the common good with their criminal activity!" Halard Boyd told the crowd. "It is to that end Captain Mason and his Cavalry-Breakers have been called back to our city. Although it is true our armies are needed out there to defend our borders, sometimes our greatest enemies lie closer to home than we'd like to admit."

"Like you," Betty muttered.

Ingrid chuckled beside her.

Mayor Boyd slammed his fist against the top of the podium as he empathetically spoke, "For these felons are the cause of our current suffering! Four nights ago, our good city was attacked by the long-dormant Wasp Giants! They swarmed our streets and killed and maimed many before they were brought under control by the efforts of our good Sheriff Agatha and Captain Albert of the City Guard."

Claire rolled her eyes as she listened, and she heard Lucien sigh next to her. They had been expecting this. Rusty swallowed.

"Oi!" someone shouted from the crowd. "What proof do ye got?"

"Yeah! I heard it was 'cause the Agatha sent that digging crew to go poking 'round the old mines!"

One of the city guards snarled at the argumentative peasants, and slammed the butt of his spear against the stones.

"Silence, rabble!" he shouted. "You dare to question the word of our good Lord Mayor?"

"What's so good 'bout 'im?" an older woman jeered from the crowd. "He just lives off our labors and calls himself a leader!"

"He ain't made one decision that's done no one any good!" another hollered from further back.

"I just see a stuck pig in a green suit!" one man heckled.

The crowd burst into mocking laughter. Standing at the podium, Boyd's face reddened with rage as his grip tightened around the edges of the podium. He suppressed his anger as he could and remained silent as more insults and undermining comments were hurled at him from the crowd.

"Pig Mayor! Pig Mayor! Pig Mayor!" they had began chanting.

One of the officers in the City Guard leaned in close to whisper in his ear.

"On your command, we can put fear of Niflheim in their hearts," the officer offered.

"No," Mayor Boyd muttered. "Let them have their moment. We'll show them all what happens when you disrespect authority in this city going forward."

"Yes, Lord Mayor," the officer answered.

Mayor Boyd turned to Reigan.

"Magus Reigan, if you would give these fine people a reason for pause," the mayor requested. "Please."

"Of course," the Mage answered.

He pressed the palms of his hands together. A moment later, his body glowed as magic flowed into him. Several people in the crowd quieted and stepped back, pushing against each other to get away from him. Then Magus Reigan outstretched his hands.

"Fire Lance!" he shouted.

Several comet-like bursts of flame shot from his fingertips and sailed over the gathered public. There were screams of panic as people ducked to avoid the burning projectiles as they flew. When the fireballs had flown halfway across the market square, the mage closed his hand, causing them to be doused. Then, aside from some hushed murmurs and whispers, all was quiet. Boyd turned and smirked at Mason.

"Like I said, crowd control," the mayor haughtily reiterated his words from before.

Mason just looked away, hiding his displeasure at the measures being taken. Amidst the crowd, Lucien glared at the mayor. His hands were clutched into fists at his sides, and he felt the need to hit something rising in the pit of his soul.

"That bastard…" he muttered. "Tha-that… That fool!"

He felt Claire's hand grab hold of his. The swordsman looked at her, meeting her gaze. With just a look, she told him she understood, but he needed to remain calm. Lucien reined in his anger, nodding, before going back to listening to the mayor's speech.

"Now that I have your attention," Boyd's voice boomed across the plaza. "We know the Silver Saviors are responsible for the swarm because one of little mistake on their part: Sheriff Agatha's men caught a man attempting to flee the mines during the wasps' attack. One Mr. Barren van Buren of The Cheap Side Guard."

In the crowd, Claire stifled a gasp behind both of her hands as her horror grew with revelation.

In his own shock, Rusty uttered, "Thor's Hammer."

He lowered his head, running his hand through his dirty brown hair, inadvertently undoing the bandana he tied around his crown.

Lucien's face had done slack. It wasn't a wide-eyed look of horror, but the thousand yard of a man whose buttons had just been pressed. Lucien's mind became a funnel of images and thoughts in no rational order. He saw his friend alive and healthy in times past, faithfully following him in their revolt against the corrupt nobility of Gerebellum.

Then he was back in the Turgen Mountains, watching helplessly as the Wasp Queen flicked Barren down the steep shaft into the mines. Lucien's breathing became heavy as he started to tremble and mutter madly to himself so quickly it came out as inane babble.

"Lucien?" Claire whispered, but he did not hear her.

As Lucien continued to ramble to himself, Claire's eyebrows creased with worry.

"Lucien?" she tried again at a normal pitch.

Lucien was not presently with her. He saw Platina dying in the field of the Weeping Lilies. He saw the helpless faces of the slave trade's victims, other fallen allies, and finally, his missing sister, Astrid. Then, the faces and voices of all those he could not save from the Wasp Giants, dragged off, screaming into the dark to be devoured by creatures who know no mercy. As it all became disharmonious noise in his head, overflowing before his mind's eye, Lucien grabbed at the sides of his head, tearing at his blonde locks.

"I just want to forget it all," Platina's words spoke out above all the noise in his head.

"No!" Lucien belted out.

Claire and Rusty jumped away, shaken by the outburst. Taran and Joe both jumped up from the fountain, alarmed and uncertain. Lucien pressed his palms into his face as he backed into a nearby parked carriage. After recovering from the initial surprise, Claire looked around discreetly, noticing they had drawn some attention from other onlookers in the group. Rusty exchanged concerned looks with Taran and Joe. None of them had ever seen Lucien like this.

Claire tapped on Lucien's arm, but he did not reply.

"Hey, hey, Lu… Hey," Claire stopped herself from saying his name while they had eyes on them.

Lucien continued to hyperventilate, eyes twitching as the chorus of losses whirled in his mind. Claire tried to call to him a few more times, but her lover was just too lost in his own head. Not knowing what else to do, Claire slapped Lucien hard on his cheek.

"Ah!" a throaty gasp burst from Lucien as his entire body jolted like he'd been struck by lightning.

He blinked and looked around, disoriented at first, but he was back in reality.

"Hey!" Claire tried again.

Lucien stared at her with the eyes of a scared child.

"They… they have him," he whispered in a scared, wispy voice. He buried his mouth in one of his fists. His breathing sped up again. "They… they…"

"Lucien!" Claire sternly whispered, hoping it would bring him back to his senses.

It was enough. Lucien stared back, more comprehending now.

"Calm down, please," Claire cupped his cheeks in her hands. "Lucien, look into my eyes."

"Barren… Barren's alive…" was Lucien's muffled response from behind his hand.

"Yes," Claire whispered. "But Luce, you've got to calm down."

He lowered his hands and looked at her, aghast at the instruction.

"Calm down?" he demanded.

"Yes," Claire kept her voice down. "You're drawing attention."

Lucien's eyes broke from hers' as they began to scan the crowd. He saw looks of concern, amusement, among others. He wanted to lash out at them, to tell them to mind their own business. A glance at Claire's frantic eyes reigned him in again and he took a deep breath, gulping down the turmoil which wanted to erupt from him.

"He's been captured," Lucien muttered. "By the gods, no… Not again. I can't lose anyone else."

"Not much we can do about it," Rusty piped in. He was staring down at the ground almost ready to cry. "Now that they've got 'im, it'll be off to The Pit, for sure."

Lucien stepped forward with purpose. Now his eyes were hyper-focused.

"We have to find out where they took him, and get him out," he said resolutely.

Claire and Rusty were worried for whole different reasons now.

Under the seller's tent, as soon as Barren's name passed the mayor's lips, Betty and Ingrid sprang to their feet like started rabbits.

"What?" Ingrid had to restrain her own voice to a whisper.

Betty had been stricken speechless. Behind them, Maximillian had paled while Bedelia and Gloria shared a silent, grim understanding. The blonde half-dwarf pressed her knuckles to her mouth as her mind tried to grapple with the information.

"Barren's alive?" Betty whispered.

Ingrid shushed her.

"How'd they even get him? We was nowhere near the mines," Maxmillian thought.

"Granny, what are we going to do?" Gloria asked the matriarch.

Bedelia just closed her eyes and lowered her head, stealing herself.

"Nothin'," she declared firmly.

Gloria looked at her uncertainly, but said nothing. She wished she knew what was going on her grandmother's head, but she also knew the old archer wasn't going to say much just by the look on her face. Gloria looked towards the mayor again. Bedelia had already retreated into her thoughts, plotting their next step if Lucien was going to be absent in the long-term.

"One thing's for certain," Bedelia thought. "We'd be damn fools to stay in Gerebellum any longer."

Mayor Boyd smiled again as the crowd began to murmur among themselves. He heard worried tones, watched as some became hysterical, and others just silently fretted. After enjoying his moment of letting the Silver Saviors hiding in the crowd stew in their own fear, Boyd broke his silence.

"Many of you know of Mr. Van Burne, and who he associates with," the mayor's baritone was heard by all. "That no account Mr. Lucien. He and his Cheap Side rabble are now chief suspects in our investigation to find The Silver Saviors. As for Barren Van Buren, he was taken to The Pit where he has been in our care. He has seen the errors of his ways and confessed to his role in unleashing the Wasp Giants against us to cover the trail of the Silver Saviors."

The crowd had gone completely quiet now, as taken aback by this news as Barren's own friends.

"Tomorrow morning, we begin our final campaign to rid the great city of Gerebellum of its criminal element. The City Guard and the sheriff's deputies have begun posting new bounties throughout the city," Boyd explained. "To mark this occasion, Mr. Barren will be hanged from the gallows until dead in Túr Raghnaill's execution yard."

He leaned forward dramatically. "The 'event' will be at the stroke of Seven. All are invited to enjoy as a dangerous criminal's life is snuffed out. And of course, food and drink will be provided to accompany your viewing pleasure! So, come, one and all! You are all formally invited."

"That confirms it," Lucien said.

Claire and Rusty looked at him, dreading the next words out of his mouth. Lucien motioned Taran and Joe over. As soon as the two men had jogged over, their leader leg them away. The mayor was close to wrapping up, anyway, and Lucien had had enough of listening to him for one day.

"Come on, we have plans to make," Lucien ordered.

Claire looked into his eyes as she walked beside him. There was an… almost maniacal fire behind them now. A desperation had taken hold which now drove Lucien's actions. She only hoped they could get him to see reason.

"We're overdo to report in, anyway," Lucien said. "We'll get everyone gathered at the old mint. We have to move by nightfall."

"Nightfall?" Rusty asked warily. "Does this mean…?"

"Yeah," Lucien stopped and looked at him. "We're getting everyone out. Including Barren. We don't have time to argue about it. Let's go."

With that final firm order, Lucien quickened pace.

"Hey, wait up," Claire whined.

Rusty and the other two also sped up. Rusty tagged along at a short distance, and he could see Claire already trying to talk sense into Lucien. He couldn't hear them, because to Rusty, a certain unreality had set in. He felt as though he were falling and would be swallowed into a pit of darkness.

"Well the magic up and give it shape," Nanami thought.

She imagined fire. The shrine girl looked at the practice dummies across the field. Lawfer leaned against the Golden Hall's outer wall as he silently watched her. Lenneth stood next to the wall's side gate, also observing. She felt the shrine girl went through the motions of spellcasting.

"Now, to see if Nanami will be ready for this," Lenneth thought.

The goddess willed away the anxiety. She had a lot riding on Nanami mastering her next phase of magic casting.

"Fire Storm," Nanami murmured.

The spell activated, but instead of firing it off, Nanami held onto it.

"Oof!" she gasped as she felt a tremendous magical pressure. The spell was resisting being contained. The ground under one of the practice dummies began to glow, but Nanami's will was stronger. Beads of sweat appeared on her skin as she focused. Lawfer's arms fell to his sides as he became concerned. He could tell Nanami was struggling.

"Release some of the energy," Lenneth called.

Nanami couldn't answer. She had to focus. The miko breathed in and then out, releasing some of the fiery energy from the spell into the air. It felt like a dry warm breeze, and all at once, Nanami felt better. The pressure was still tremendous, though, due to the volatile nature of Fire Storm.

"I still won't be able to hold back this spell for long," Nanami realized. "I need to hurry and finish casting."

It wasn't difficult for Lenneth to see the girl was struggling.

"She might be jumping into this a bit prematurely," the Valkyrie realized.

"Only continue if you feel confident that carry the spell through," Lenneth instructed.

Nanami heard, and for a moment, considered aborting the spell. Something inside just couldn't quite make herself do that, though.

"Our enemies only become more daunting by the day," Nanami thought, remembering the agony of Scarlet's claws tearing through her body. "I must be of more use."

Nanami then quickly began to draw more magic into herself, quietly whispering the mantra to invoke the Great Magic spell.

"I invoke the rites of fiery Muspelheim and give why soul up to the inferno's embrace," she intoned.

Then as the magics merged and took new shape, Nanami's body shuddered from the new sensation. It felt hotter than lesser fire spells, like a true inferno within herself. Moreover, it wanted to be unleashed even more than Fire Storm did. Nanami grunted from the effect of holding the spell back as she locked eyes on one of the practice dummies, shakily aiming the wand with sweaty fingers at it.

Behind her, Lenneth's foot slid forward as she anticipated trouble.

"IFRIT CARESS… Ah!" When Nanami chanted to unleash the spell, it surged out through the wand so forcefully it took her by surprise.

The ground in front of her cracked open and fire spewed out. In that moment, Nanami realized she had somehow misaimed the spell, but there was no time to do anything about it. She couldn't even belt out a scream the magic exploded from below, bursting up from the ground. She was knocked down, grunting in pain.

"Nanami!" Lawfer darted forward.

Lenneth was a blue and silver streak speeding past him to aid the mage. Nanami looked up and saw all manner of debris fly into the air. She covered her head with one of her arms instinctively, anticipating it rain down on her at any second. She heard the chunks of earth and rock hit the ground all around her, and after a moment, she realized she hadn't been hit once. The shrine girl dared to lower her forearms from her face and saw white skirts slightly fluttering in the breeze in front of her.

"Huh?" she looked up and realized Lenneth had placed herself in front of the Yamato girl.

The Valkyrie had erected a protective energy shield. Nanami heard heavy footsteps pound the earth in a fast approach. She glanced over just as Lawfer arrived. He dropped to his knees, taking the shrine girl by the shoulders as he looked her over in concern.

"Bless you, Lady Valkyrie, for your Divine speed," Lawfer praised Lenneth.

Then the knight looked back down at the girl.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

Nanami wordlessly nodded, still a bit too shaken to speak. She scanned the debris, which had already come to rest around them. There was a perfect circle around. Lenneth stared at Nanami cooly. Under her mask, the Valkyrie was disappointed.

"Blast it," she thought.

"Thank you," Nanami mumbled at both of them as Lawfer helped her to her feet.

"What happened?" Lenneth asked calmly.

"Hrm…" Nanami looked away, flushing. She swallowed back her embarrassment, deciding to just admit it," I lost control and misfired the Great Spell. Ifrit Caress."

Lenneth stayed silent a moment, and then answered, "I see."

Lawfer looked at the fresh hole in the ground.

"This Great Magic is nothing to be trifled with," he muttered. "Are there perhaps easier spells of its caliber to practice?"

"I don't know, but they're all really devastating," Nanami said.

While he and Nanami spoke, the Valkyrie thought in silence. She wasn't surprised by the girl's difficulties. It was mostly happy accident Jelanda had mastered it down in the catacombs, and it only worked because they were in peril. She considered putting Nanami into a similar situation where it would be sink or swim, but decided against it almost right away.

"Perhaps I can take one of the older einherjar Magi aside to help train her," Lenneth thought. "…Not likely, if the war has not been going well."

"…I see," Lawfer thoughtfully whispered as Nanami finished up. "So, there is no easy solution, then."

"Likely not," Nanami sighed.

The shrine girl's attention went back to Lenneth. She opened her mouth to speak, but then closed it again, and looked away quickly enough to flip her hair out. The movement got the goddess's attention, and she recognized the look on Nanami's face.

"You have something you wish to say?" Lenneth asked.

Nanami let out a low whimper, still avoiding the Valkyrie's eyes.

"'Tis nothing, Lady Valkyrie," she insisted. "Really."

Lawfer also saw through her worse. "It doesn't seem like nothing."

"Speak, young one," Lenneth again urged.

"…Okay," Nanami hesitantly answered. "Lady Valkyrie, I don't think I'm ready for Great Magic."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not," Lenneth answered. "You were having difficulty handling more magic than normal, yes?"

"Yes, Lady Valkyrie. It was just so difficult to find equilibrium for so much magic. I've never tried to summon, hold, and command such power before," Nanami still sounded shaken.

Lenneth considered the point.

Nanami then worked up and her courage and blurted out, "I understand it in theory just fine. Practice turned out to be… something else."

"Hmm… Should I have Jelanda and Nanami practice this together after all," Lenneth thought. "No, better not. I do not want to encourage Jelanda to show off. That girl is nowhere close to being ready to instruct another on Great Magic."

The Valkyrie played around with her silver hair with her fingers while she pondered out a solution.

"Very well," Lenneth said. "We will halt training you to cast Great Magic for the time being."

A big sigh of relief burst from Nanami, and she held her hands to her heart. "Oh, thank you, Lady Valkyrie."

"But…" Lenneth continued. "You will instead begin training to conjure and balance more power. Every morning before drills with the rest of your unit."

"Yes. Of course, Lady Valkyrie," she answered.

Lawfer saw her unease even in the corner of his eye.

"Is it really wise to push her to the next level?" he asked. "If she is not ready, this could be counterproductive, Lady Valkyrie."

Lenneth's eye twitched with annoyance, an outward crack in the mask displaying her displeasure at having her orders questioned.

"I will not be pushing her faster than she can grow as a magician," Lenneth tersely refuted. "She will simply be building up a tolerance for handling greater magic until she is ready to make another attempt."

"Yes, of course, Lady Valkyrie," Lawfer felt like he'd fallen onto the back of his feet.

Lenneth reined it back a bit, deciding not to end the evening unpleasantly.

"You are both dismissed for the evening," she said. "Nanami especially could use a good night's rest."

"Yes, Lady Valkyrie," both einherjar bowed and then hastened their exit from her presence.

Nanami looked especially relieved as they left. After they had passed through the side gate, Lawfer glanced over his shoulder and leaned closer to Nanami.

"What was that about?" he asked.

Nanami shrugged, not knowing.

"Maybe that meeting with Lord Odin and Lady Freya did not go so well," she suggested.

When they were gone, Lenneth paced about in agitation briefly.

"Why did Lawfer's question bother me so?" she had to wonder.

As if to answer her own question, she thought again of her report to Odin. He seemed oddly eager to send her into the flesh tower and to allow Thor to be used as a decoy for the operation. Nothing had been finalized yet, but if they were really going to venture into that accursed place, her einherjar had to be in top condition.

"They all are, except my two young mages," Lenneth thought. "Not that it is either of their faults. Jelanda and Nanami never knew battle before I chose them."

At that thought, there was a heaviness in her chest she could not pinpoint.

"Such peaceful lives, uprooted… and sent into war," the sad thought just popped into her mind.

Lenneth caught herself and clapped her cheeks with her palms.

"What are you thinking, Lenneth?" she admonished herself. "For a human, being chosen as an einherjar is the highest honor. Those girls are truly blessed to have been chosen. Truly… blessed…"

The image of Jelanda's mangled remains from the day she died flashed in Lenneth's mind. It was followed by Nanami's sorrow and desperation when she realized only the true heir of her adopted family could inherit the Dragonsbane.

"That's right. Jelanda was abducted and poisoned," Lenneth recalled. "And transformed into a Ghoul. Arngrim and I had to… And Nanami. She was forced to make a very hard decision."

The Valkyrie shook off the sympathy again. She watched the grass rustle under the wind's primordial force.

"But will they be ready?" she wondered.

"Beloved, I must protest against this once more. Withdrawing Thor from his current duties to assist with Lenneth's strategy could delay Project Körmt," Freya urged.

Odin looked up from Loki and Lenneth's case file, which he had turned to the section about the two flesh towers. They were still in the throne room, awaiting the arrival of the Odinsons and their other officers. Freya was of course hovering by his side.

"Dear Frigg," Odin used her pet name again to try calming her. "'Tis for Project Körmt I am considering this."

Freya raised a brow, but quickly understood.

"I see," she said.

Odin nodded as he went back to reading the document.

"We will be employing this exact tactic for our eventual assault on Vanaheim, after all," he said.

"Yes, distract the Vanir with our armies while Lenneth and her einherjar use the reconstructed Körmt Bridge to slip in and…" Freya hesitated as her brow twitched unhappily. "And… she will assassinate my… King Njord."

Odin's almost absent "Uh-huh," indicated he had missed his wife's unease about his intentions to kill her father.

"This will be a perfect small-scale test of Lenneth's viability as a player on the board," Odin went on. "The Valkyries have never been put on the true battlegrounds of our campaigns. This will be a task greater than she, or her sisters have ever undertaken. If Lenneth is able to fell the vile tower, it will open doors for us."

"Doors?" Freya asked.

"Yes. The Valkyries' usefulness will increase tenfold," Odin said. "Provided this works, of course. It might just be worth finally visiting Brahms to take our rebellious little princess back."

Freya knew that look in his eye. It was the same ambitious stare he'd had when he worked to seize control of Asgard from Ymir. She had seen it since then, too, when he had a mind full of plans he could hardly wait to put into action.

"I just hope husband's ambitions do not overreach," she thought.