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We spent another half-day at Beacon before we left for our mission. Most of which was spent on paperwork, taking loans that would be sent back to and paid off at Arc Manor proper to procure basic equipment. Mail cuirasses, plated greaves and gloves, belts to cinch the mail and thick trousers and clothes to wear under, along with cloaks to wear over, the armor. The wealthier ones, Coco among them, managed to buy a breastplate too, but most went without for now. And regardless, all were armed with rectangular board shields painted in the blue of the Preying Eagles, with the emblem splashed across it in silver, and carried a mix of axes and swords.
It was a motley collection, compared to the wall of glittering steel of Lord Arc's regiment months prior. Or Lord Rouge's, for that matter.
But cold was waiting for us as we marched. We had food and water, firewood and tents, all stored aboard a cart I drove that was bought with the same loans as the armor, weapons and shields from Beacon's supply. Atlas' winters drifted over the sea and across northern Vale, and brought with it winter snows as fall died its quiet death as winter took its place. So far north and east, the cold was new to me, then. Bitter, piercing, and strong. And were it not for Cardin's council, we all very well may have died out there.
Were it so easy…
Fate decided otherwise, it seems.
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Jaune shivered and rolled his stiff shoulders, tossing off the thin layer of loose snow that had collected from the drifting flurries his formation marched through. The road was muddy and covered in thin pockets of packed snow, but Jaune's cart broke it up well enough, and, he hoped, made following behind it easier. To either side, riding on horseback, Coco and Cardin kept their gazes on the pine-wood forest that stretched out, silent, to either side. It was late afternoon, but darker than usual, with heavy clouds that blotted out the sun and a stuff wind blowing through the trees overhead and whistling faintly.
The only sound in the otherwise seemingly dead forest…
"Cardin-"
"Should see Perch any minute now." The man cut him off, sounding… Weary. Though whether that was from the travel, the weather, or how many times Jaune had asked, he couldn't be sure. Regardless, he went on, "We'll need to quarter in the village itself."
"Yeah…" He'd been hesitant to, back in Patch, but in the cold of the northern weather, he didn't see much choice. Distant flecks of light snatched his attention before he could thin on it, though, and he sat up straighter and called out. "Lights!"
In the dark, wintery forests, Humans were at a disadvantage. Faunus could see better in the gloom, after all. Even through the glare cast up by snow and ice, their eyes would see better than any of his Cohort. So, seeing scattered lights, his Knights threw themselves into action, flanking the cart and raising their wooden tower shields warily as they advanced. But, luckily enough, they soon saw the walls of Perch coming into faint view, lit by flickering torches on the walls.
Unluckily, Perch was in obviously dire straits…
Carts were left derelict and ruined outside its walls, crushed in plates and pockmarked by long wooden shafts from arrows. The snow was muddied and furrowed in places in a semi-circle around the settlement, too, and splashes of dark red could just barely be made out. Mostly because of the white and brown snow, and how bright the contrast was. But for that kind of contrast…
"They were just attacked…" He realised, frowning and looking towards the settlement. It was small, and its wall was barely more than a rundown palisade, but its gate remained closed and he frowned. Raising a hand, he shouted, "All stop!"
He heard the murmurs of his men, but they obeyed, shivering and watching the woodline they'd passed as warily as the settlement, now. Standing, he drew his hammer and stared at the still-closed gate.
"Brother…?"
"Something's wrong." He murmured, instincts burning in his guy. Turning, he looked back the way they'd come, staring into the dark with narrow eyes. He caught the faintest glint of light on… Something, and ordered, "Shields to the rear!"
They only barely managed to get into the formation before a flurry of half a dozen bolts shot out from the woods, punching into the cart, their shields and, in one unlucky instance, one of his men's arm. It was his weapon arm, so he kept his shield up, but that wouldn't matter in half an hour if it wasn't tied off. So he turned and sat, using an arm to hold his shield over a shoulder and whipping the horses forward.
"Winchester, command the rear!" He shouted, "Adel, to the gate! Get their attention there or ride around- Find a way in!"
"Yes, my Lord!" They both intoned, the woman kicking her horse into action as Cardin turned and barked. "Back up! Slowly! Semi-circle around the rear! Arc, keep a slow pace! They're using the cart's back to keep formation!"
"Right!" The snow and mud did most of that as it was - he couldn't rush or the horses could slip and hurt themselves, or a wheel could get thrown. Something thwacked into his shield and pitched him forward a bit, but he ignored it as they rode towards where Coco was screaming and kicking the log-gate.
They were only ten or so feet away when, finally, the gate swung open and a woman in light armor with a long spear bellowed, "Hurry! We can't risk having the gate open for long!"
"Winchester!"
"Keep formation!" He answered, as much for the soldiers as for Jaune, to tell him to stay slow in spite of the woman's words. He heard someone behind him shout and Winchester swore, "You two, throw her into the cart! Everyone else, cover them!"
Jaune turned as a pair of Knights pulled themselves up, a woman facing the other way between them with a quarrel in her chest. She kept her shield raised, though, until she was thrown in, knocking over a pot of water and a crate of grain as she fell. The two turned to leap off, before two shots caught the more lightly armored of the two men and pitched him back, the shocked, squawking man pawing at his stomach where the quarrels hung limp, caught on the busted links of steel. But, luckily, apparently having not punched in deeply enough to do anything but scare the soldier half to death.
Finally, they passed through the gate, chased by another, final flurry of squirrels. One of which bounced off the back of his helmet with enough force his eyes watered and he was nearly thrown forward, off his seat. Instead, he managed to catch himself on one of the handholds he used to pull himself up into the seat and instead fell off to the side, away from the wheels that rolled by while he scrambled away, blinded by the from edge of his helmet where it had fallen down.
He heard the gate grind closed a second before Cardin shouted, "Arc!"
"I'm fine!" He said back, before powerful hands yanked him up and half-turned him, yanking his helmet off. Shaking his head, he adjusted his coif and turned, sighing, "I'm fine, it didn't even-"
Cardin just held up his helmet, where the short, all-steel bolt had punched barely a quarter of an inch into the helmet and stuck there. Staring at its tip, he pawed at the back of his head as his heart started to beat and the man dropped the helmet, grabbing him.
"You're fine." He grunted, pushing him against a wall as his cohort turned, nursing their new wounded while the man who'd narrowly survived being shot in the stomach threw up beside the gate. He grabbed Jaune by the head and forced him to meet Cardin's gaze, eyes hard and flat. "Let the adrenaline hit, take a breath, and repeat it. 'It didn't go through'."
"But-"
"Trust me."
Jaune let him, closing his eyes as the fire burned through his veins and he let out a shaky breath, "It didn't go through…"
"You're alright."
"I'm alright."
"Better?" Cardin asked as he backed up and Jaune pushed off the wooden wall. He nodded and Cardin said, "Good. Shakes always happen, near-misses like those. Take a second, I'll… Go find out what's happening here."
"Good." He nodded, turning, "Adel?"
"Here." She called from where she was kneeling at the back of the wagon, tying a cloth around the first injury they'd taken's shoulder. She didn't look up as he came over. Instead, she just said, "Figures, first time out we get ambushed."
"I wouldn't call it that…" He murmured, watching the beam slide across the gate to keep it locked while the horseless lancer talked to an old man in a dark robe.
"No?"
"If they wanted to ambush us," he said, "why wait until we'd passed by? If they'd caught us from both sides out there, we'd not have stood a chance."
"True…" Now, she turned to him, letting the injured Knight move off to find somewhere to rest. Pursing her lips, Coco suggested, "Maybe they were coming behind us?"
"Maybe…" But unlikely. If he was right, those were some of the Faunus raiders, and Perch was under pressure from them. So they should have been ready for anyone coming to relieve the town. Yet, they'd almost reached it before they attacked his group. Why? "It doesn't make sense…"
"No?" Adel asked, brows furrowing in confusion, "Why not?"
"I'm not really sure, but…" He shook his head, "Something just feels wrong. Gut feeling."
"Alright…"
"You're a forrester." He grunted, turning to look at the gate and frowning. "Say you were leading a raiding party. Would you ignore the main road coming in? Especially while you're putting pressure on a village like this?"
"No." She sighed, "I take your point. I'll ask around, see if I can find anything else odd going on."
"Do it." He nodded, turning as the woman from before came up, using her spear like a walking stick. He dipped his head in greeting and said, "Lord Jaune of the House Arc, with my cohort of the Preying Eagles. You're Emerald Path, aren't you?"
"I am." She nodded, "The last of my contingent, which had been attached to a regiment of the Gilded Gauntlet, sent to see tax and tithe actually reach Vale."
"I see." The Gilded Gauntlet were the vaunted tax-men of the crown, after all. It made some kind of sense to see them here. At least enough that he let the matter lie and asked instead, "How many of them are left? And of yours, how many are alive?"
"Two of my wounded are alive." She answered, "But too wounded to heal in any time of use to you. As for the Gilded…" She shook her head and sighed, "All dead. They thought their armor would hold up in spite of the heavy bolts."
"The mess outside…"
"They tried to take a cart of food out." She nodded, shaking her head. "They fared as well as you can likely guess."
"Yeah…" He frowned, turning to look at the village, finally.
It was small, settled at an inlet from the northern sea that stretched on, narrow, for almost two miles after only a few hundred feet inside the gate. Houses and docks cluttered along the coastline unevenly, with large smoking houses along the water's edge that puffed smoke while the workers inside dried, baked, salted, or did whatever else to the last of the fish. But, beyond that, the settlement was tiny. Smaller than Ansel had been, easily, with only a little chapel just inside the gate that he turned to. Even it was run down, with a small front landing that sagged in a few places and a Chastened standing outside sweeping away the snow and ice.
The old man in the dark robe was waiting at the bottom of some steps, there, and gestured Jaune inside with a smile, "Please. We've space enough for your men, and I can have food ready shortly."
"That would be appreciated." He nodded, joining him and, finally, noticing the hammer still in his hand when the church-man flicked it a look. Chuckling awkwardly, he slid it onto his belt and said, "Sorry… I'm still bouncing back from everything."
"I understand completely." The man nodded, offering him a bow and smoothing out the long, braided beard he wore. The only bit of hair on his head, it seemed. "My name is Peter Portson, and I welcome you to my home."
Jaune flinched at the name, at the close echo it held, but… This man was much thinner than Peter had ever been, and looked more soft-handed too. Literally, he didn't seem to have callouses or scars at all - the difference between a smith's life and a preacher's, he supposed. The one in Ansel had scarcely done any work in his life. And spoke with a far more gentle voice. Not to mention his dark hair and bald head.
It was… Still strange, though, to hear the name.
And it stung a little…
Jaune shook it off, though, and turned as Cardin joined him and reported, "Five injured, but only a few are serious. The rest are bruises and sprains from slipping in the sludge outside. Orders?"
"If Peter will allow it," Jaune said, turning to him, "I would have them rest in the chapel."
"Of course." He nodded, "As I said, I've plenty of space."
"Thank you." Jaune smiled, turning back to the larger man and going on. "Grab something you can eat and move, and split the rest of the force. I want the walls checked for damage, and a scratch-map drawn up of the town."
"A map…?"
"I've had to defend a settlement before." Jaune said, turning to the preacher. "Knowledge is power, in that situation. The more I know, the better we'll be. Can you check on the townspeople? I can give you-"
"I will handle that." The Emerald Path knight cut in, nodding her respect as she did. "And I've paper and ink for a map, too. What do you need with the villagers?"
"A supply count." Jaune answered, turning his shield to show them the quarrels stuck in it. "I counted three to six shots, so I'm assuming triple that in Faunus. If they lay siege, so to speak, I need to know what we have. I also want to know if they've seen anything strange lately."
"Aside from the raiders and the occasional Grimm…?"
"Yeah." Jaune nodded, chuckling, "Aside from them."
They all nodded and Jaune let Cardin leave to divide up his men, turning to instead to look out at the distant sea. And frowning. Something still felt off about all of this…
But what?
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