Sorry, it seems I'm back to writing super long chapters. I just barely got this one done in time. Fanfiction still isn't showing any views, and I'm starting to get sorta concerned. Maybe it really is just that no one's read anything all October. I'd be lying if I said that didn't make me a little sad, but, as I said last time, that's not why I write.
But if you do read this chapter, leave a little, "I was here," please? Or just say kweh?
But more importantly, enjoy!
Chapter Seven
The Tchita Uplands
Year 707 of the Old Valendian Calendar
Balthier trudged through the knee-high grass, fighting his way up the steep incline. It seemed like he'd been doing this all day; no, only half the day, but that was more than enough. He pulled his eyes from the thick stalks around his legs to the top of ridge. There a figure stood, outlined in starlight and backed by firelight. A quiet nighttime breeze stirred her dress and hair; Balthier couldn't see her face at this angle. He pushed himself up the last few yards; climbing down this slope to set up camp had definitely been easier.
Finally reaching the top, Balthier took a moment to revel in the triumph. Ashe stood a few feet away, oblivious. She stared down at her outstretched hands, washed like white porcelain in the moonlight, eyes distant. This princess had no sense of self-preservation, did she? Balthier should've known guarding her would be a complex task.
While he caught his breath, Balthier studied the oblivious princess and beyond her, the city on the dark horizon. He still remembered standing in the north gate that afternoon, the palace's spire and a thousand lower buildings rising at his back, the yellow-green plains flowing out ahead. And he remembered that same view from a thousand times for a thousand reasons a decade ago… Wait, what was the date? It wasn't-
Balthier shook his head, banishing the thought; Enough of that. Live in the present.
He spoke up to get Ashe's attention.
"Princess. Enjoying the view?"
Ashe started, head snapping up, eyes going wide.
"Oh! Balthier?" She blinked, then relaxed. "Oh. Uh… yes."
What an answer. "You know, it's not wise to be so far from camp. It'd be a shame if we saved you from assassins just to have to have you eaten by wild animals."
"I'm fine," was Ashe's reply.
Balthier fought the urge to sigh. "What are you doing up here anyway? The view's not that impressive." Archades, awash in moonlight, shining with its own reddish lights… No, not enjoyable at all.
"I was just… thinking." Ashe's voice fell quiet; her gaze darted away from his.
"About what?" Balthier asked.
"About… Well…" She trailed off. Balthier did sigh.
"Princess."
"About what Ziafer said." Ashe lifted her hands again, studying the white shapes against the dark grass, voice falling faint. "About Raithwall's blood."
"Ah."
Ashe lifted her eyes, still not turning towards Balthier. "It's just… The Shards were always Dalmasca's pride. But they were the whole reason Archadia invaded at all. And they caused the deaths of so many." Ashe glanced at her hands again. "I know it shouldn't really matter. It… doesn't mean anything. It doesn't change anything."
"Except for the fact that people are trying to kill you can capture you and make nethicite out of you," Balthier pointed out.
Ashe sent him a sideways glare, then looked back to the dark, silver washed fields. "I guess. But I mean, it's always been true, and just because I know now shouldn't make me feel any different. But it… does."
"That there's something in your very nature that disagrees with you?" Balthier's own gaze darkened. The cold weight in his right pocket seemed to sag. "I know the feeling."
Ashe's head came up. She turned, lifting a hand to her heart. "Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't think…"
"No, don't. There's nothing to think about," Balthier replied. What had possessed him to mention that? He averted his eyes from the princess, but they only found the starlit city.
"But it's been so long since… we really talked." Ashe said. "Have you found anything out? I know you wanted to-"
"It may have been six months since Bahamut, princess, but I've hardly spent it in the most productive fashion," Balthier said. "I good bit of ancient reading was in order, but keeping Ivalice from unraveling at the political seams is a higher priority. Just forget I said anything," Balthier said before Ashe could speak. "I'd rather not talk about it."
Ashe's blue-grey gaze flickered, almost sliver in the starlight. "You always say that when something bothers you."
Balthier couldn't help but give a chuckle. He let his eyes go back to her. "I think you're confusing me with yourself there, princess."
"No-" Ashe started, then stopped. "Well, maybe… we're both like that."
Balthier held her gaze for a few long moments, then, with a sigh, turned his back to the city in the distance to look back down the slope. At the bottom, a spot of fiery light danced, around it four sitting figures, indistinct at the distance.
"We should head back. Come on, princess." Balthier motioned with one hand, then started down the slope.
"Oh." Ashe glanced back at the view, the lovely city in the distance. "Alright. Wait, I'm coming!"
Balthier paused to let Ashe catch up to him. He couldn't help but smile as the princess stumbled gracelessly down the steep slope. The moment she was beside him he started off again.
"And what do you think of our newest comrade, princess?" Balthier asked as they walked.
"Ziafer? He's… unique," Ashe replied. She was still breathing hard from her scramble, pushing her hair out of her eyes. "Actually, it's strange. I almost feel like I recognize him."
Balthier arched an eyebrow at her. "Well, I think he might be part Estersand wolf. Perhaps that's what you're seeing."
Ashe laughed. "I don't think that's it. But I see what you mean."
"I'd still feel better if we knew more about why he's helping us," Balthier said, review in his mind with suspicion the image of the one-eyed warrior. "There doesn't seem to be a lot in it for him."
"I guess." Ashe didn't sound like she agreed. "But he has helped us. Do we really have to know why?"
"Yes," Balthier replied. "I can't advise fully trusting him otherwise."
Ashe half-opened her mouth but couldn't seem to find the words to voice her disagreement. Balthier gave her a wry smile.
"Perhaps he just has a crush on Dalmasca's beautiful princess. That must be it."
"What? That's not- no!" But Balthier could see the color rising in her cheeks. Mission accomplished.
The ground soon leveled out, and Balthier and Ashe rejoined the others around the fire. Ziafer offered to take first watch, but Balthier it was an offer turned down. So he found himself facing a third of the night watching five weary travelers sleep, ready to trade off with Fran in a few hours. Not that he hadn't done such a thing many times before; at least the city was out of sight beyond that ridge.
As the moon climbed higher, it proved to be a perfect round shape, its shine growing brighter as the fire burned lower. Balthier wasn't one for being awestruck by the beauty of the heavens, but that moon made him think again. He wasn't so out of the loop he didn't know the month or day.
It was, wasn't it?
Suddenly, Balthier was very glad they hadn't stayed in Archades for the night. The Summer Moon Dance, the most important event of the social calendar and a rite of passage for each young person growing up in Archadia's prestigious capital. A dreaded approach for a young, scientific lad who preferred his books but was well-aware of the importance of keeping up social appearances. Eight years ago, he finally worked up the courage to ask Reina to go. Or perhaps the courage was more needed in facing her unnaturally intimidating older sister.
Suddenly, Balthier could almost hear quick-drawn violins and the enormous chatter of a terrace filled with the young and the old, anxiety failing to masquerade as excitement pumping through his veins…
Balthier shook his head, griding his teeth. Balthier. Because that name belonged to a sky pirate, a gun for hire, a man with no country, and most importantly, a man with a past fully reconciled after facing down his father and that dreadful ghost Venat. It was all over, said and done, finally. And that was that, a fact nothing would change. Not the gleaming city hiding behind the hills, not the distant music impossibly distant to hear, not the princess in the bedroll, metallic hair gleaming the ember light-
Swust. Balthier spun at the sound of grass rustling. He scanned the gently rippling stalks but saw nothing unusual.
"Hello?"
Nothing but the ongoing chorus of nighttime insects. Balthier sighed. It was probably just paranoia spurred by a desire for something to break his thoughts. Yet at the same time, any distraction was extremely welcome. Probably worth checking.
Balthier strode a few paces towards the sound, away from the camp. He stopped, hands on hips, and scanned the grass. The wind picked up, and the stalks dipped, bowing in reverence. Nothing. Nothing-
Then Balthier sensed movement behind and spun on instinct, just dodging the headlock-grab of a dark figure that flew past him. Balthier snapped a hand back for his rifle – just one shot would wake everyone and hopefully frighten this attacker – but the man in the shadows had reflexes like lightning, spinning and slashing with a newly-produced knife. The contact, cutting, then sharp sting of pain flashed over Balthier's right forearm, seizing up his movement for his rifle with a hiss of pain. The next moment, another man from behind grabbed Balthier's wrists and jerked them behind his back. What -?
Balthier tried to twist and jerk away, but the first man marched up and grabbed his face.
"There are-!" Balthier's shout to wake the others was cut short as the first man forced a gag into his mouth. Once it was tied, he finally let go. At least Balthier finally got a good look at the man – but that was not enheartening. Blue tunic, brown cloak… Oh, no…
Balthier struggled as the man behind him bound his wrists, but it did no good. Then the first plunged a bag over his head, cutting off his view of the star washed fields. Balthier's stomach boiled as muted sounds of struggle came from behind.
"Move it." The Red Fang gave Balthier a shove in the shoulder that was more like a blow. Clenching his teeth around the gag, Balthier dragged his feet in the direction he was prodded.
After several steps, a grip on the shoulder halted him.
"Stop. Up on the carriage."
Carriage? Traveling in style, are we? Balthier took a step forward until he could brush against a wooden outcropping that must've been the bed of cart. Through several awkward movements, Balthier managed to get onto the rough plain of wood and against the side.
"Nice bagging," a silky female voice said from the front of the cart. "Nice and quick." She sighed. "I hate it when people actually fight back, don't you?"
Balthier ground his teeth over the rough, bitter cloth offending his mouth. He couldn't see, couldn't speak or expect a reply, couldn't believe he'd fallen for a simple distract-and-grab ploy. Sounds of movement and grunts of gagged captives told him he wasn't alone on the cart; he could pick out Vaan's honkish tones and Penelo's squeak. The snorting to his right that sounded like an irate bull ready to charge had to be Ziafer. He could only hope Ashe had gotten away…
"We've dawdled enough." A deep male voice up front said. "Razner's waiting."
There were a few more moment's silence in which Balthier wished he could see more than a tannish haze, then a cry of "Hiyah!" The cart rocked, an unnerving motion without visual proof of barriers on all sides, and, with a "kweh!" from the chocobos up front, it started off.
…
Balthier kept his shoulders straight, trying to maintain an air of composure even as he was marched bagged, bound, and bleeding down a corridor of some sort. He could hear shoes falling on a hard, smooth surface echoing off close walls. Through the journey, Balthier had tried every way he could think of to get off his ropes or the gag, but that had proven fruitless by the time the cart finally stopped and unloaded its cargo. Balthier found it very annoying not to be able to terrorize his captors, and unsettling to be stripped of his most valuable senses.
Hands fisted into his sleeves jerked Balthier to a sudden stop.
"Here they are. Just what you ordered, right, boss?" A female voice from somewhere said. She sounded vaguely familiar, though Balthier couldn't place the tones.
Then a rough grip jerked the bag from his head. Balthier blinked in light dim but blinding after so long in the shrouded darkness. Underground base – check. Shifty people in blue tunics – check. Yes, most definitely the Red Fang's base.
"Yes, it seems so. Good work, all." A Red Fang in usual uniform responded, but his posture and air told Balthier he was someone of authority. The six Red Fangs around him saluted, then set back to stripping off their captives' hoods. Balthier noted with disappointment that not one of the others had evaded capture.
Ashe's captor loosed her gag. "Wh-Who are you?" Ashe said, eyes darting from the man in the center to the others around. "What do you want with us?"
"Princess Ashe, correct?" The man in the middle said. He stood with his hands folded behind his back, studying Ashe with an almost sad look. "You may call me Errol." He lifted his hands, gesturing to his troops. "I'm the leader of the Red Fangs."
Ashe's eyes widened, sudden fear coming to them.
"Show the general some respect, princess," the woman holding Ashe said, preparing to shove her to her knees. Wait- Balthier did a double take, but the appearance and voice were unmistakable, despite the time that had passed. Balthier pushed against the bitter cloth with his tongue, but it made no difference.
"Clori, that isn't necessary," Errol said, holding up a hand, at which Clori stopped, then turned her face away to roll her eyes. Errol gestured to a Red Fang not laden with a captive. "Tell Razner she's here."
"Sir!" The Red Fang gave a snappy salute and rushed off. Errol turned back to Ashe.
"I trust you'll believe me when I say I'm sorry I had to be this way."
Ashe said nothing, simply stared up at Errol with a terrified look. From the corner of his eye, Balthier could see Ziafer struggling against his captor, who fought to hold him back by his bound arms.
"I'm told you've acquired the princess?"
A man dressed not in Red Fang tunic marched down the hallway. Metal plated his entire right arm – or perhaps it was made of metal. A flowing square of pure white cloth, like a cape positioned to the side, covered the joint where prosthetic met flesh.
"Razner. You usually take your time," Errol said, turning to face the new arrival with a frown.
Razner stopped beside Errol. "You know it's imperative we acquire this nethicite as soon as possible." Gazes locked, their faces bore an eerie similarity, though nearly masked by their vast difference in haircut and dress.
Disengaging, Razner strode passed Errol without another word or look and took Ashe's face in his metal hand. She cringed. Balthier instinctively tugged against his captor, but the man was obviously far stronger than him. Unable to intervene or even speak – Balthier almost wished the hood was back on so he couldn't see either.
Razner twisted Ashe's face one way, then the other, eyes narrowed.
"You're certain she's really the princess?" he said, not looking up.
"As certain as we can be," Errol replied.
"I can't afford to wreck my equipment on a double," Razner said, voice cold and level. He released Ashe's face, and she jerked it away. "A simple blood test should suffice." Razner held out his hand. "Clori, if you would?"
Clori slipped a knife from her belt and dropped it with a click in his metal palm. Razner twisted the knife around and drew it with a quick, precise motion across Ashe's arm, ignoring her wince. He held the blade before his eyes, deep red suspended along its edge.
"I'll analyze this and prepare the equipment. Get these people secure." Razner turned and marched away with another word, completely ignoring Errol as he strode passed. Silence reigned.
Clori coked her head towards Errol. "General?"
Errol shook his head with a sigh, still eyeing where Razner had disappeared. "Lock them up and stand guard. But let them breathe. The least we can do is be hospitable." At which Clori scoffed, but Errol didn't seem to notice; he followed Razner with brisk strides. Clori scowled for a few moments, then jerked Ashe around and shoved her towards the opposite corridor with more violence than necessary.
"You heard him, boys. Come on," Clori called over her shoulder.
The five Red Fangs twisted their captives around to march them after Clori; Balthier made his captor exert some force to pull him along, though he didn't kick and writhe like Ziafer. They stopped by a row of three terribly uncivilized looking cells, rough doors set in earthen walls with tiny, square, barred windows.
"Errol said to let them breathe, right?" a gruff voice from behind Balthier's ear asked.
Clori gave a sigh. "If we have to." As she pushed Ashe towards the farthest cell, Balthier felt his gag loosen, then slip off. He breathed a sigh.
"Ah, thank you. I always knew you could be civilized-"
"Argh! You blasted Red Fang scum!" Ziafer wasted no time shouting the moment the cloth came loose. "You're not gonna get away with this, not again! You'll get the princess over my dead body! I'm gonna flay every last one of you wretched, half-bred-"
"Ziafer, that is not helping," Balthier snapped, cutting off his tirade.
Clori looked up sharply. "…Ziafer?" She narrowed her forest green eyes at the scarred young man. "Tch." Her nose wrinkled. "One of those, huh? I thought your lot was trying to take out the princess?"
"Well think again! We'd never stoop that low, unlike you!" Ziafer snarled back, making no attempt to hide his identity. The conversation was cut off as Ziafer's captor shoved him into a cell after Vaan, clanging the door shut. Clori glanced at their guard.
"Maybe you should tell the general and the grump. They'll probably want to know."
The Red Fang nodded, and Clori turned to the one holding Balthier.
"Bring that one over here," she said. Clori pushed Ashe through the door, then held it open. Balther's guard sliced through his bonds, then gave him a shove. Balthier stumbled through the door, and it swung shut behind with the familiar but unwelcome click of locks engaging. Still, it was good to have his hands free again, though the wound on his right arm throbbed, reminding him of its existence.
Ashe was on her knees, leaving forward on her hands on the dirt floor, taking purposefully deep breaths. She looked shaken but unharmed.
"Ashe, are you alright?" Balthier asked, kneeling next to her. He still hated the image in his mind of that Razner character striding up and grabbing her face.
"Uh… Yes." Ashe nodded, then straightened, shifting to a sitting position. She lifted a nervous smile to Balthier. "Yes, I'm… fine."
Then the door rattled; the silhouette of a finely pointed face, outlined by black curls and topped with stout grey ears, blocked the thin stream of light coming through the window. Balthier narrowing his eyes at the sight: Clori peering through the bars with that repugnant smirk he had almost cleansed from his memory.
"Princess. Pleasure to meet you." Clori gave Ashe a derisive look, then her eyes slid back to Balthier, smirk returning. "Merc. It's been a while."
Balthier's shoulders stiffened at the repulsive nickname. Of all the torturous things that could've awaited him in the Red Fang base… "Here I blissfully thought you'd forgotten me," he said back to the smiling shape in the bars.
"Who-" Ashe frowned. "Balthier, you know… her?" Ashe's eyes darted between Balthier and the Red Fang beyond the door.
"Oh, didn't he tell you? We're old friends!" Clori said.
"You and I must have different definitions of 'friend,' Balthier replied dryly.
"Really?" Clori tilted her head. "You saved my life."
"Because I needed your assistance at the time," Balthier said, not liking Clori's look. "Given the result, I think I should've taken my chances on my own."
"Oo, cold. You could be a Red Fang."
"Interesting offer, but I think I'll pass."
Clori pursed her lips, then turned those slanty eyes to Ashe, a look of almost pleasure spreading her lips as she noted her anxious look. "Oh, sorry about the cell, but we don't get much royalty down here," she said. Ashe lifted scowling eyes to Clori's face.
"But don't you worry, pretty princess," Clori continued. "Razner'll have you oven-fried and char-broiled before you know it. You should have seen the last girl he tried this on." Clori gave a whistle, then chuckled, grinning that sickly smile as Ashe tried not to cringe.
"What do you want nethicite for, anyway?" Balthier spoke up, pulling Clori's attention from the princess. "That Razner said it was 'imperative' you got it immediately; that means you must have some purpose in mind."
Half of Clori's mouth twisted up. "Sorry, merc. I can't just let you charm all the information you want out of me."
Balthier shrugged, though inwardly gagging at the prospect. "Worth a try, surely?"
Clori smiled, about to speak when a voice from behind called her name. She looked over her shoulder, quite perturbed.
"What?" she said.
"Razner's requested your assistance preparing his laboratory," came the reply.
Clori sneered. "You tell him I didn't sign on to this job to be a lab assistant!"
"Clori, I think it'd be wise to follow orders." Another of the guards outside addressed her. Clori snapped her fuming gaze to him, then sighed, rolling her eyes.
"Fine." She looked sideways through the bars, smile returning flawlessly. "I'll see you later, then. Merc."
She turned and strode away, four sliced beams of lamplight replacing her oppressive presence. Balthier breathed a breath of relief.
"Who was that?" Ashe said, voice reflecting both a low opinion of their visitor and hidden fear spurred by her words.
Balthier sighed and heaved himself back to his feet, holding his injured arm stiffly against him. "An acquaintance, and not a pleasant one at that. More important is how we're getting out of here."
Ashe nodded thoughtfully, then stood. She stared to speak, but her eyes widened as they caught Balthier. "Oh! Your arm! When-?"
Why did those words make it throb worse? "Don't worry about that, Now, over here." Balthier stepped past Ashe, pulling her with him over to the side; she resisted, of course.
"Why-?"
"Because we don't want the guards to see us plotting, do we?" Balthier hissed. "Now keep your voice down."
"But…" Ashe trailed off, and she allowed herself to be guided to the wall. "You have an idea?" she asked.
"Princess," Balthier said, using mock offence to lighten the mood. "Have faith. There's not a prison cell on Ivalice that can hold me." Except for the one that did for six months. But Balthier wasn't going to mention that.
A few minutes later, Ashe stood a few feet away, cheeks going crimson as she made a pitiful attempt to moan.
"I-I don't know if I can do this," she said.
"Well, I would, but I don't think it'd have the same effect," Balthier said. "Now lie down; it'd help the image significantly."
"But…" Ashe hesitated again. Balthier sighed.
"If you're acting's this bad, princess, it's no wonder you're such a poor politician."
Those words earned him quite a glare. Then Ashe swayed and toppled sideways.
"Oh-!" Caught off guard, Balthier jumped forward and caught her, lowering her safely to the ground. Ashe let a rather melodramatic howl, then toned down to a more low-key moaning.
"There you go," Balthier hissed into her ear. Then he lifted his head and yelled above Ashe's groans. "Is there somebody out there? I could use some assistance in here!"
The edge of laughter bubbled up along Ashe's deathly noises. Honestly, the ridiculousness of Ashe's act made Balthier's mouth twitch, too. He bent back to the princess writhing on his knees.
"Not now, Ashe. Laugh later. Keep it up."
The door creaked open. Balthier lifted his head, all desire to laugh vanishing. Two Red Fangs stood just within the door; one leaned up to the other for a hushed debate on the scene before them.
"Don't just stand there, give me a hand with her!" Balthier called, subtly squeezing Ashe's arm to tell her to keep going.
The two guards shared an irked expression, then cautiously approached Balthier and Ashe, one hanging farther back. Balthier watched their approach with caution. Hopefully-
His thoughts broke off as Ashe stopped her moaning and swept out one leg, taking out the feet of the nearest Red Fang. He toppled backward with a gasp, crashing directly into the one behind.
Well, no more strategy now. Balthier stood, heaving Ashe up with him. "Go!"
There was little time for more words. The two guards lay in a heap on the ground, but they'd recover quickly. As Ashe ran ahead, Balthier slowed a moment and bent down, snagging the keys from one guard's belt. The man tried to grab Balthier's wrist, but he twisted and avoided it. He looked up to see Ashe still lingering by the door. Oh, princess-!
At a shout from outside, Ashe twisted behind the open cell door, then swung it out with all her might as a third guard charged through. It struck him square in the face, and he fell back. Balthier followed inches behind Ashe out the door, slamming it in the faces of the two Red Fangs trying to follow. He plunged the key into the lock hole, and it turned with a satisfying click.
Ashe let out an audible sigh of relief. "Oh. I didn't think that'd work."
"It nearly didn't," Balthier replied. "What was with you falling like that? If you'd hit your head and knocked yourself out, that've been it for our plan."
"I… knew you'd catch me."
Balthier held Ashe's tentatively smiling gaze for a moment, then turned to unlock the cell next to theirs. When he pushed the door open, Fran stood directly behind it, Penelo behind her.
"You took care of the Red Fangs?" Fran asked.
"The ones guarding us; I'm sure there's plenty more waiting to get in our way," Balthier replied. He walked over the last cell. The door shook under steady thuds as something slammed into it repeatedly from behind.
"Hey-" Ziafer's muffled voice came between impacts. "Wanna take a- turn- Ratsbane?"
"What? No!" Vaan replied from within. "Wh-Where'd you hear that name, anyway?"
"Eh, just- your-"
Balthier leaned up to the door and called through, cutting him off. "Could you kindly stop that so I can open this door?"
The thudding ceased.
"Ya gonna open it?" Ziafer said after barely a second. Balthier sighed; maybe he should leave him in there. But poor little Vaan…
Balthier unlocked the door and gave it a shove; it creaked in on its hinges, and Ziafer came striding out like liquid under pressure spewed from an open lid. He sent a scathing glare over every wood-paneled wall and tunnel, his gaze finally falling on Ashe.
"At least the princess is fine," he said, giving an abrasive sound that might've been a sigh. Vaan came out after him, looking quite sullen.
"You survive?" Balthier asked him. Vaan stiffened.
"Yeah."
"Vaan!" Penelo ran over to her brother, happier to cower by his side than behind Fran.
"Penelo. You alright?" Vaan asked.
Penelo nodded. "Where do we go now? Won't they come looking for us?"
"I know the way," Fran replied, brown gaze locked down the well-lit corridors. "I spent quite some time here."
"You did?" Ziafer said, his one eye narrowing to a slit. Fran sent him a dark look.
"Not by choice." She turned back to Balthier. "Shall we go?"
Ziafer cut off his answer. "In a moment." He strode past Fran and knelt by the Red Fang Ashe had knocked out the door. He patted him down and came out with two daggers and a short sword. He tossed the daggers aside and raised the sword over the man's chest.
"Wait! What are you doing?" Ashe said, horrified.
"What do you think?" Ziafer glared at her. "The longer we have until they notice we're gone, the better."
"But he's totally defenseless!" Ashe said, running up like she'd yank the sword from Ziafer's hands. Balthier put himself in her path, earning quite the look.
"How about we lock him up in one of the other cells and save the moral debates for when we're all safe and sound?" He glanced between Ashe and Ziafer. "Is that agreeable?"
Ziafer scowled. "Fine." He stuck the sword back in its sheath, then stood, dangling a ring of keys from one finger. "I figure one of these goes to a weapons locker; we can get our stuff back-" He toed one of daggers. "-and not have to rely on these filthy Red Fang things."
Ashe still watched Ziafer with fire in her eyes. Balthier turned to Fran, who again stared down the tunnels with an unreadable look.
"Well, then, Fran; lead the way."