Chapter 6 - Inevitable
Jeralt regretted taking this job. Only the well paying ones ever make him feel this way. Now he's marching outside the secured wall of the town right into what could be an ambush. He wondered if the rogue guard waiting for him was also regretting his choices.
"Do I have the honor of addressing the Blade Breaker, Jeralt?" He asked. His steel armor was polished to a mirror shine. The various scratches it had not only showed it's age, but the experience of the man wearing it. This was no castle guard, accustomed to breaking up bar brawls and catching pickpockets. This was a soldier, likely a veteran of the war. "I'm Captain Wulf. It's an honor to meet a man of your renown."
Jeralt's mouth opened at this man's audacity. The leader of the rogue guards himself. "I have to admit, I'm surprised. I didn't expect you." Rather than be offended, the soldier nodded in understanding.
"No one ever does. I care for my men, so when none volunteered for this task, I chose to do it myself. The war taught me that a superior who isn't willing to face the same danger as his soldiers is unworthy of loyalty." Jeralt's concern about this mission only grew at that. He had been expecting a reckless leader who directed an angry mob. This was a competent commander, one who likely had the respect and loyalty of his men. "I take it you have been told about my brother, Renan?" Captain Wulf asked, removing his helmet, and placed it under his arm.
"I have. We even inspected the clearing on our trip from the Fort." Wulf probably already knew that. Jeralt suspected that he had contacts in the guard sympathetic to his group, who kept him informed.
"Then I take it that you found the flowers and that symbol carved into the tree?" Byleth had told him about the Triskelion she found. While she had not known its meaning, Jeralt had. Life, death, and rebirth. It also represented how the Brigans believe things happen in threes. Jeralt nodded his head. There was no point in lying to this man. But his politeness gave him some hope. Jeralt now seriously considered the possibility that if they found Renan's killer, there might be a peaceful solution. "I fought in the war. I killed many of their warriors, and their warriors took two of my brothers. Renan was the only family I had left, and now he has been taken as well." He held no hatred in his voice, only sadness.
Jeralt felt a pang of pity, despite himself. "Maybe so. But what about the children in that village? The traders? You seem like a smart guy, can't you see that this has gotten out of hand?" As the words left his lips, Wulf gave a bitter chuckle, and looked at his feet.
"I know. The original plan was just to intimidate the village. I thought that at least a few of them knew who killed my brother. And if that failed, maybe the killer would give themselves up to spare the rest of their village. The original members who joined me agreed with this plan. If we got the confession without hurting the village, our punishment from the Count would be light. But then our numbers began to swell. Men joined us not in pursuit of justice, but to continue the war." Wulf looked back up to Jeralt. "I want to bring my brother's killer to justice, Blade Breaker. And I don't want to burn down that village to get it. But I'm running out of options."
The sun began to set. Byleth and Lucas watched as the soldier finished his talk with Jeralt. To their surprise, Jeralt ended the conversation by shaking the man's hand. The soldier retreated into the woods.
Byleth and Lucas climbed down from the lookout post to join Jeralt. Shaman Cormac pushed past everyone and stormed up to Jeralt. "Why didn't you capture that man! That was their leader!"
Their leader!? He turned wide eyed to Byleth to make sure he heard right. Byleth met his gaze with similar bewilderment. The balls on that man. He thought.
"He came under a white flag. If we had taken him, any chance of a peaceful solution would have gone up in smoke." Jeralt tried to appease Cormac. It failed and only served to enrage the Shaman even more.
"Peace! After everything that has happened? They attack us, steal our goods, and trap us in our home. And you think these bandits will make peace?" Cormac snarled. Saoirse walked up behind her father and rested her hand on his shoulder. Cormac turned to her and his expression softened. Cormac took a deep breath and regained his composure. "What did he offer?"
Jeralt looked around. The entire village was here, and he knew he'd never get a better chance. "He told me that he still believes someone in this village is responsible. However…" Jeralt raises his hand to stop the crowd from speaking over him "he admits the situation had escalated. He made a promise that if his brother's killer is revealed, he will surrender to my company and be taken back for judgment." The crowd became angry at this. The curses were almost entirely in their native language, but Lucas got the gist. The mercenaries began to tense, fearing that they may become victims to those they were trying to protect.
"So we are no closer than before. As I said, none of our hunters killed him!" Cormac said, further enraging the crowd.
It's was now or never Lucas thought
"If I may, Shaman?" Lucas stepped forward. Cormac looked at him with annoyance. "From my understanding, your oath prohibits lies?" the Shaman grunted and gave him a nod. His expression turned to suspicion. "So would a half truth violate your oath?" Lucas had thrown down the gauntlet. In private he could refuse to answer all he wanted. But here, in front of his own people? "So would you kindly tell us, to the best of your knowledge, did any member of this village kill Renan?" Silence came over the village. The villagers turned to their Shaman who remained silent. The mercenaries relaxed and the silence extinguished their rage.
Byleth stepped toward the Shaman "We're waiting". Still the Shaman kept his silence. And without a word, he walked into his home. The mercenaries made no attempt to stop the man. He would not abandon the village. And after Lucas's performance, they doubted the hunters would let him escape either.
It was Ciaran that met with them the next morning. Ciaran turned out to be one of their best traders, and was the new de facto leader after the event from the night before. They had until sunset to find Renan's killer, so she had called several hunters she trusted. These particular hunters were the most cooperative and friendly with the Blade Breakers so far. They would begin to interview the villagers and try to find the murderer.
Lucas and Byleth had interviewed two traders and a tanner about that day. The traders claimed they were taking inventory and saw nothing. The tanner admitted to seeing a woman sneak out that night. He claimed he didn't know who it was. Their culture emphasized a closeness to nature, so lovers sneaking out for a moonlight tryst wasn't uncommon.
"Maybe it was Renan?" Byleth said to Lucas. He gave her a confused look. "Maybe the woman the tanner spotted was meeting Renan for a date?" Lucas's eyes widened. The clearing was beautiful and off the beaten path and the flowers could have been romantic. Byleth's idea had merit. But neither knew much about Brigans romanced people or their specific customs. Maybe that held an answer? They needed more information and chose to return to Ciaran.
The partners made their way to Ciaran's home. It was late in the afternoon and time was growing thin. "Ciaran, we might have a lead. Do you know if anyone in this village has a secret lover in Fort Merceus, or sneaking out at night in general?" Ciaran raised her eyebrows in surprise. She rested her elbow on the desk and closed her eyes.
"Give me a moment, there are always rumors, especially amongst us traders." She interlocked her fingers while her husband put his hand under his chin.
"Wait a second," Lucas interrupted. He looked at her hands, unable to find a ring. He looked at her husband and he also lacked one. It came to him that none of the couples he had seen the past two days wore rings. "Do your people use wedding rings?" He asked.
"No, we do not. We use tattoos. Why?" Ciaran looked at him in confusion. Lucas turned to Byleth, who nodded in unspoken agreement. It was time to pay Saoirse a visit.
Byleth and Lucas marched to the Shamans' home. Every villager had avoided it like the plague. Lucas pounded on the door. The Shaman opened it, looking exhausted. Any strength or dignity was gone, leaving behind a weary old man.
"We need to talk to Saoirse" Byleth said. The Shaman slowly turned his head towards her. He gave a bitter smile.
"It was only a matter of time, I suppose." His voice was as coarse as gravel, like he had been screaming for a whole night. Or weeping. He beckoned them in where Saoirse sat with her eyes closed. The old man made some tea and set it in front of us.
"How long were you with Renan?" Lucas asked. Saoirse smiled and answered without hesitation.
"4 years. He was one of the first men I met when I moved here. I learned your language quickly and found work as a translator, teaching both soldiers and officials our tongue and culture. Most had no interest in our ways, but Renan was different". Saoirse gushed about Renan. A dull ache tugged at Lucas as he wondered if this was what he sounded like when he spoke of Nerys. "We started meeting in secret soon after that. Mostly in tavern bedrooms, but once things became dangerous we started meeting at the clearing. Our best moments were under that tree. We made love under that great tree. He asked me to marry him there. And it was there I told him I am with child."
The Triskelion. Not only did it symbolize Life, Death, and Rebirth. It represented how things came in three's. In this case, Father, Mother, and Child. Byleth and Lucas took the revelation in silence.
"I found them together," Cormac gave them a look that conveyed his misery. "I walked the woods that night to commune with the spirits. It appears that I did something to earn their ire, for I shot the father of my grandchild that night." Lucas wanted to ask if it was in anger or perceived defense of his daughter. The shaman answered the unasked question. "They were nude and in the throes of passion. I did not bother to ask or call out. I let my anger and rage at my son's deaths control me. So I shot him." Shame filled the old man's face, which seemed to age with every admission. He knew he was not acting in defense of his daughter. He murdered Renan.
Lucas finally lost his temper at the old man. "Why hide the truth? This whole situation has gone from bad to worse! You've put all of your people in danger Cormac, and now there's a mob of soldiers ready to tear them apart." Lucas was out of sympathy for this man.
Cormac nodded at Lucas's words. "I understand your anger, child. But there is a secret role we Shaman play. We use our magic to bless the soil so our crops grow, heal livestock, and pray for rain. The war decimated our numbers. If I were to leave, there would be no Shaman to take my place."
Byleth had also grown frustated, but her stoic nature made it harder to detect. "If you don't leave and tell the truth, there may be no village at all." They are out of time. Captain Wulf was due at any moment. They heard a shout from outside. All of them knew what it meant. It was time to make a decision. Shaman Cormac stood and gave his daughter a kiss. The old man walked out the door, marching to his fate, with Sairose trailing behind.
Lucas spoke to Byleth, his voice full of frustration "All of this could have been avoided. I-in so many ways. It could have ended at any point, had everyone involved had just been honest or…" He trailed off, unable to find the words.
Byleth shared his anger, but looked somber. "I know. And I think they know it too. But maybe some things are just inevitable. If it hadn't been Renan and Sairose, it could have been something else. C'mon, jobs not finished yet."
Captain Wulf stood with Jeralt in the same spot as yesterday. The men seemed to be deep in conversation, discussing terms. When the gate opened, Jeralt was surprised to see the Shaman accompanied by his daughter. They walked the twenty paces or so to join them. The old man had regained some of his strength, marching towards them with purpose.
The Shaman told the two of them his version of events, of how he found Renan and Sairose naked in the clearing, and his rash decision. Jeralt had to admit the story was nothing short of tragic. A single act had nearly escalated to over a hundred deaths.
It might still happen. Jerat reminded himself. While these people may be willing to make peace, would their followers?
"I have just one question for you" Wulf addressed Cormac, his voice low. "Did you think Renan was forcing himself on Sairose. Or did you see your daughter with an Adrestian and assume." Jeralt saw where this was going. Jeralt thought about how he would react to a situation like that? If he had ever caught a man with his daughter, would he attack him then and there? Or try to get an answer, and then punch said man.
It was Sairose who answered. "My father had no idea I was seeing anyone. His duties as shaman and mine as translator meant that we were kept busy." She took a pause, and looked away in shame "I also did not want to face his disapproval. I knew he would hate Renan on principle, and so I said nothing. It was not until Renan proposed to me that I began to work up my nerve. We agreed to tell our families during…"
Wulf eyes had become glassy, and tears began to form "The peace festival. That's when you were going to announce it." Wulf shook his head, fighting back a sob. "I knew he was seeing someone. He wouldn't tell me who it was, so I figured it was a working girl. A week before he died he had the biggest damn smile on his face. He kept saying he had a surprise for me, that I was going to be through the roof. Now I know. He got the girl and was going to be a father." Sairose walked up and embraced him. Tears cascaded downwards, and Jeralt also felt his eyes begin to water. The two mourned for the man they loved, before the whole village and anyone else that was watching.
After a time, they separated, and Wulf had gotten a hold of himself. Jeralt knew that Wulf the man needed to take a back seat to Wulf the leader. "Then as we agreed, I'll escort you to Count Bergliez to surrender. Your followers will stay in their camp while you negotiate terms." Jeralt recounted their agreement.
"I remember our terms. Johan! Come on out!" Another soldier emerged from the forest. He wore similar armor to Wulf. "We know the truth. Our mission has been accomplished. I will be traveling with the Blade Breaker here to Count Bergliez to negotiate clemency for the rest of you."
"Yessir!" The soldier's formal posture relaxed as he addressed Wulf as a comrade rather than a superior.
"Rodrik's getting more bold. He's been trying to convince the men that we need to strike now while the mercenaries are still getting set up."
Wulf shook his head in dismay. "Tell the boys the truth. The killer showed themselves, and I'm doing my best to make sure they can go home when this is all over." Wulf's expression darkened "Don't let Rodrik take over Johan. If he does it'll be a massacre."
Johan gave an imperial salute, and turned to march back to his camp. Jeralt needed to finish this now.
The night had been loud. The moon was supposed to be full, but storm clouds blocked all light. The wind howled, making most take shelter, minus those unfortunate enough to be on guard duty. Lucas sat with Byleth, pressed against the side of the Shaman's home. The roof allowed them to keep most of their bodies out of the rain, but their shoes and pants were soaked. Jeralt, Wulf, and Goetz galloped away hours earlier, making a full speed sprint back to the Fort. Jeralt had warned them about the soldier Rodrik, and how he might try something. But Lucas let himself be optimistic. It was raining, dark, and their leader had given them orders to stay put. He let out a dramatic sigh and looked to Byleth. Her wet hair had been brushed backwards to stay out of her face. She gave him an exasperated look.
"Alright, what is it?" she demanded. "You've been sighing like that for the last hour".
Lucas was being melodramatic, but he didn't care. It had been an emotional rollercoaster the past three days. He was used to this much excitement over the course of months, not days. "I'm just wondering if every job is like this. Don't know if my heart can take it." Lucas complained, only half kidding about his heart. Byleth let out a snort.
"It's probably one of the most complicated job's I've done. Most are pretty straightforward. Find this object, guard this caravan, kill that bandit. Bad luck I guess."
Lucas had to be a bad luck charm if that was the case. Still, he was looking forward to the end of this job. The other mercs told him the parties they threw to celebrate a job well done were always a blast. It would be a nice change of pace too…
"Enemies approaching!" a sentry called out. The man had to scream to be heard over the howling winds.
Byleth and Lucas sprung into action, and rushed towards the North Gate. Lucas slipped on the mud, landing hard on his shoulder. Byleth attempted to stop but ended up sliding for about three feet. Lucas picked himself up slowly. He saw that the dirt and grass of the village had turned into a quagmire. The rain was not torrential, but it had been constant for the whole night. It was a terrible place to fight.
"Savages! Come on out, The people of Adrestia have come for justice!" A voice called out from behind the gate. By now, the Shaman had emerged from his home, face filled with dread.
Lucas looked up at the sentry, who had taken cover. He gave Lucas a dissaproving nod, telling him to stay down. Lucas however chose to risk it.
"I'm going to climb the wall. I want to talk! Do you swear to hold fire?" Lucas screamed. Jeralt was gone, Byleth wasn't the best with people, and the Shaman would be killed if he showed his face.
"For you kinsman? Of course." The leader of the mob agreed. The man thought he was Adrestian or at least a native of Fódlan. Lucas climbed the ladder and stood next to the ducking sentry. He looked at Lucas and muttered "I counted two bowmen. Could be more in the forest."
The man who stood at the front of the mob had his helmet on. His armor was the same standard issue Wulf had worn, without any of the scratches. Lucas wondered if this man had ever seen combat. He raised his head and said "We have come for the savages. They must answer for their crime, not just the death of our brother in arms Renan, but for Lieutenant Johan!" Johan was dead! He didn't understand, all of the hunters were in the village, and they were ordered to stay.
"This is a horrible mistake sir! We found Renan's killer and made a deal with Captain Wulf. He left earlier with our leader Jeralt to meet with Count Bergliez. He's trying to negotiate a surrender that will spare you all from punishment!" Lucas pleaded with the men. But as he saw the eyes of the guards, he realized it was pointless. Mob mentality ruled their minds. The die had been cast.
"Lies!" The leader said. "I found Johan, wounded and dying! He told me the truth, that these people used heathen magic to trick Wulf and lure him inside your gates! I swore upon my name, Rodrik Ignisius, that we would save him and purge our land of their ilk." Rodrik. The man Wulf had warned us about. The man probably killed Johan and twisted the story to suit his goals. Lucas wanted to retort, but a man put his hand on his shoulder. It was Cormac. He had regained his strength, his eyes full of resolve and determination. Lucas knew what he was planning.
"That's a one way trip" Lucas told the walking dead man. Cormac gave his shoulder a squeeze and placed something in his palm.
"A journey we all make eventually. Most of my people are still asleep. Go and wake them. I shall distract them as long as I can." Lucas looked at the pendant Cormac gave him. It was a flat disc of metal that had wings etched on it. "I dreamed of this symbol the night we met. The spirits whispered the word, 'Fallen'. May it bring you good fortune and help you find your way". The Shaman leaped down to the mob, hoping his death would save even one life.
Lucas descended from the wall, and noticed that more villagers emerged from their homes, armed with weapons. But what concerned him was that the southern half of the village hadn't stirred. Not even the mercenaries stationed by the south gate seemed to be aware of the mob out front. As the wind whipped his damp hair into his eyes, he realized the reason. They couldn't hear them. He turned to Flora who had just arrived. "Wake up everyone up. We are under attack!" as the words left his lips, he noticed the fire. It was by the house closest to the south gate. It was burning.