A/N: Chapter 23 of Mystical Eye of a Savage Hound. Enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters except my own OCs. Revenge of the Sword Clan's Hound belongs to the rightful owner.
Chapter 23: The Ringing Bell
Somewhere outside the Fortress...
After reliving the rest of the delegation squad and ordering them to stay behind to check on the area at their leisure, Camus and I opted to take a walk along the road, taking note of the farmland that greeted us. Normally we would ride horses to make traveling easier but I was determined to walk, figuring that it would be fun that way.
"So, do the Baskervilles know much about the Barbarians?" She asked me nonchalantly, plodding alongside me with her arms folded behind her head. She nearly complained that I wasn't going to ride horseback on our brisk walk, but I merely smirked at her and began to walk away without letting her say anything else. Thus she had no choice but to hurry to catch up before falling into step beside me, a familiar scowl on her face.
"We fight them all the time, given how close we are to their territory than you guys are." I responds to her question, observing the well-grown crops to the side. "Therefore we know them better than you."
"Then why did you only bring weaklings? All of them are young and insignificant rookie hunting hounds are they not?" Camus had noted the level of the delegation and I expected nothing less from the genius of Morgue to take notice.
"We've already told Morgue that the 'main army' would be ready on the other side of the mountain." I told her before squinting my eyes, scrutinizing her for a minute. "Why do you bother asking if you already know?"
"I'm just checking if you know of not." She chuckled and stuck her tongue out. "You are so smart."
"As the leader of this delegation of course I'd have to know." I sighed at her childish manner, my attention being dragged away to look at the farmland. As usual there were members tending to the land and ignored the two of us as we walked past.
"You might just be a throwaway used by the clan, but it seems like you're very trust-worthy." The crimson-haired princess saddled up to my side, laying against me with a smile on her face; I can tell she was being incredibly playful, there's no way she is showing me so much affection like this. "Then how about another quiz question, just for you since you're so smart."
"Knock it off with the smart comment and tell me the question."
"Do you know which tribe among the Barbarians is the most annoying to deal with?" I glanced down at her before putting on a thinking expression. I came to a stop in the middle of the road, so Camus stopped too but continued to lean against my shoulder, waiting for my answer.
"From Morgue Clan's point of view, it must be the warrior tribe 'Ballack' and the shaman tribe 'Rokoko'. The Ballack Clan's bow techniques are on an entirely different level from the empire's in terms of strength, especially so that we don't know those techniques either." I looked at her and asked, "How'd I do?"
"Eight points for knowing the culture of the enemies." She removed herself from my shoulder and walked forward, glancing over to see if I'll follow. Of course I did because there's no way I could say no to her.
"If I answered correctly why is my score so piss poor?"
"It's because you answered correctly." She twirled on her heels, walking backwards with her hands clasped behind her back and stuck her tongue out at me teasingly. "What's the point of a smart partner? I don't like my partner being smart, it's fun to have a traditionally stupid partner around."
"Is that so?" Stuffing my hands into my pockets, I walked alongside her while keeping my emotions in check. This girl...with her dumb questions...
"Six points for your horse riding skills, don't think I didn't catch you as you rode in with your entourage, that horse was probably too large for you. Four points for fashion, you Baskerville dogs do love dark clothing a little too much; perhaps I should help you in finding some color in your dreary life." She looked at me questioningly, "Not going to reply? One point for manners and that's me being generous."
"Uh huh."
"But you know what? I'll give ninety-nine points for your face because you grew well." She was smiling when I looked at her. "But your expressions need some more work so, minus one point."
"This evaluation of yours is quite baseless and is therefore useless." I told her while calculating what my overall total score was. It was one-hundred and fourteen out of a total of five hundred, that is the lowest score I've ever received. "I would never put my life on the line if you were the judge, look at how you score me."
"It's not useless if you're to end up as my future wife,"
"Which we still need to discuss about..." I muttered but she ignored me.
"Therefore I should be stern in my marking, we have to prepare for our futures after all. You need to score a high marking in my next evaluation though because otherwise I'll be embarrassed. In fact there's males who scored higher than you and I cannot allow that ever."
"So tell me again why am I your future wife...or future anything?" I steered the conversation away to get an actual answer out of her. "And don't even think about weaseling out of this conversation, I know you're better than that."
"Simply speaking, you passed Uncle's test last time. No one has ever been able to do it, not even me." Camus said bluntly.
"Really?" I deadpanned as I remembered the incident. Seven years ago Adolf Morgue decided to test me after the joint training between Baskerville and Morgue, stating that he wanted to see what I was made off and if I was the right fit for his niece. "That is the whole basis of labeling me your future wife?"
"Of course! Don't forget I chose you back then too!" She threw a fist into the air, all fired up as though the incident happened yesterday. "How could my uncle judge my future partner with such a crude test?! It's really annoying! His decision at that time blocked my marriage path! How could it be! Since he made a promise like that, I'm already practically married! But what can I do at this point! Promises are strict law and cannot be broken so easily! Even though I hate it, I'll need to follow it as it is my duty to do so. I'm going to go crazy, crazy I say...!"
As expected of an outstanding fire magician, I can feel the intense heat roiling off her body like it's nothing. I watched her gnaw and chew out her uncle with her temperament. "If you're so angered by that then forget about what happened. I'll treat it as if it didn't exist and our contract to each other will be null and void. We wouldn't have to play pretend to each other." The crimson-haired princess' body stiffened in an instant and I thought she cast a paralysis magic on herself. Magicians do eccentricities sometimes that are incomprehensible to me and I don't bother trying to understand it.
"Wh-Wh-Who'd said we're playing pretend! And how can you treat it like it didn't happen!" Her face flushed as she yelled at me. Her arm flew forward and something smacked me in the face, a piece of black cloth that was both soft for some reason and vaguely familiar. "You idiot mutt!"
"Why are you so upset?" I asked her and she responds with a swift kick to the shin. Knowing that whatever she does against me does absolutely nothing, I still knelt down and made sure the area she hit wasn't damaged. News flash, I was undamaged as I had suspected.
"I'm a genius, so I can't forget something that happened to me...especially what happened during our match together." She turns her head away with a loud huff, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "So remember that before you open your stupid mouth!"
What the hell did she throw at me anyhow? I held the piece of item out in front of me for closer inspection. The pattern of the Baskervilles is clearly drawn on it, and it was slightly bloody and shredded. I remember that this was the exact same garment I wore as an eight year old, throwing it over Camus to protect her somewhat from being an embarrassment to both Clans. I took a quick sniff and realized that it still had the stench of sweat and possible charring.
"What nonsense really." The daughter of Morgue was muttering to herself, her back turned to me but I still caught her words.
"You held onto this all this time and didn't bother washing it?" I frowned and lightly shook the garment in her direction when she looked back at me. "Absolutely disgusting."
"I-If you don't want it back then hand it over!" She held out her hand expectantly, or at least hoping I'd give it back to her because I voiced my displeasure. "I'll have you know that is my number one prized possession."
Well that somewhat explains why she didn't bother washing it, probably told the maid that this thing wasn't worth it...she doesn't want to forget that day and this cloth of mine served as a souvenir for her. However... "No take backs, princess, thought you already knew that." I said in a casual manner, carefully rolling up the old piece of cloth and tucking it underneath an arm. I'll stash it away in my belongings and assign someone to guard it, not trusting this Morgue minx to pull a trick to get it back. "Besides, you threw it at my face and it was rightfully mine to begin with."
She proceeded to hit me lightly with her fists that I didn't bother fending off, instead I ended up laughing which caused her to hit me harder. We continued the banter back and forth, sometimes falling into peaceful silence and enjoying each other's company. At some point in our walk I asked her about Rose and how she was doing since I didn't see her – she should be around twelve years old now if I thought about it for awhile – but an unreadable expression crossed Camus' face when she heard her cousin's name. When I tried to ask what happened, the daughter of Morgue either brushed the topic aside or she promised to tell me later. I had a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that whatever it was, Rose was probably either not feeling well to greet me or is stationed elsewhere.
Now that I think about it she should have finished her own Rite of Passage, so I can't wait to see her. I thought to myself before snickering to myself, feeling some sort of joy while thinking about the younger Morgue. She's probably scheming something to surprise me as we speak. I'm anxious to see what she comes up with.
"...I don't know what you're thinking about over there but knock it off." Camus' voice cut through and I glanced at her, noting that she was scowling at me in return. "Look alive. It's pretty obvious that the Barbarians have raided the mines and stealing the crops and slaves, it's a no brainer. For the slaves they're hoping to sell them somewhere else for bigger bucks."
"Or sell the slaves to each other or among themselves, I don't believe they consider each other as kin." I commented which my companion nodded her head in agreement.
"I'm well aware of that as well which is why I never question why they fight each other. Now to prevent any of the stealing and raiding, these castle walls were created in a month by earth and steel attribute magicians."
"Mmmm. That's impressive, as expected of the magicians of Morgue. You've finished what would normally take a hundred people over a year in just a month." I spoke, gazing up at the sheer size of the walls that loomed over me. There were steel frames were embedded in a grid-like pattern inside the hardened earthen wall, and the reason was because there was a descent sized hole. In fact, the wall itself was dotted with hundreds of these holes that looked like the surface of a biscuit. "...arrow marks from the Ballack Tribe?"
"Yup, they're so annoying. The arrows they fire contain powerful aura and countless people died by getting sniped while on night watch." Camus clicked her tongue with disgust and folded her arms across her chest. "Since the arrows can pierce through two to three meter thick walls, there's no way to stop them either. Get this, an arrow broke through the shield magic and hit Uncle's chest. He ended up getting injured pretty badly."
"Is he okay now?" I asked her and she nodded her head at my question.
"Thankfully he is, but can't say the same about his pride. It's been damaged."
"Now that I think about it, our clan head told me of a similar experienced." I told her, rubbing my chin in thought. "He got a nasty scar across his nose because of a fight with them. Are you thinking what I'm thinking? Seems like there's an outstanding individual among the Barbarians. Could it be their clan head?"
"I think I agree with what you're saying. It could be, I think it was a female who shot Uncle." said Camus as she is also thinking about the issue. "But all the members always wear that black paint on their faces, so it's hard to distinguish them. Regardless of that, even though there are only about three hundred Ballacks, they are the most dangerous. The next most dangerous would be the Rokokos."
The Ballacks are savages who belong to neither one side nor the other, living leisurely, plundering and warring with their neighbors. They have been moving rapidly eastwards for unknown reasons in the past seven years, and because of that movement, friction with Baskerville members have increased. Morgue Clan also become annoyed with Ballack movement too, engaging with the warlike members in the leased territory.
"The Morgue Clan members are alert in their own way as they tried to carry out their duties...but the Barbarian's attacks are so secret that it's not easy to notice them. Once a month or so, we have a gap in our borders."
"A gap?" I tilted my head, folding my arms across my chest. "What kind of gap are we talking about here?" Her brows furrowed and she gave me an unreadable look.
"We're a matrilineal society as you know, so the percentage of women is overwhelmingly high. The magicians who stand guard are all women."
"What does that have to do with gaps? And for that matter how come magicians can't just use shield magic to protect those gaps until it can be patched?"
"Think a little harder won't you? I told you before didn't I?" She smiled as though she was quizzing me, watching as I just furrowed my brows at her in possible annoyance. "Their arrows could shatter Uncle's spell like it was a thin sheet of paper, and Uncle is a high-ranking member. If his shields can be penetrated then everyone else stands no chance. Now, what can a smart individual do... particularly a smart Barbarian male as he stands in the face of a fortress filled with women? Extra points if you figure it out!"
"Vice-Fortress Captain! Vice-Fortress Captain!" Before I could open my mouth to respond, our talk was interrupted as a Morgue member rushed up, waving her hand excitedly but also she was almost out of breath. "We need you urgently! The search party has captured the Barbarian scouts near the border!"
"What? I'll be right there!" She turned to me and said, the tone of her voice now turning into something serious, "Shall we see what those heathens have to say? I'm sure you're just as much curious about this like me."
Inside the prisoner tent...
The moment we entered the confinement area for trespassing members of any Barbarian tribes, the thickness in the air was palpable. One of the prisoners that was brought in was tied up with rope, a brown-skinned male with black hair. Along the side of the tent were a couple more from the scouting party, three strong males all tied up with rope. Their bodies were covered with various tattoos which allowed me to guess the tribe they all hail from. Rokoko, a tribe of shamans, were known to have different tattoos that covered their bodies for rituals as well as for their customs.
"Did you dig up the information?" Camus, with a terrifying aura on her face, directed her question to the Morgue guard who was in charge of the prisoners caught during raids.
"Well, he's very adamant and refuses to talk no matter what." The guard replied with the shake of a head. "Not to mention his buddies over here, none of them are speaking, very tight-lipped."
"Mental spells?" asked Camus.
"They don't work. Maybe because of strong shamanic magic, it's nearly impossible to read his memories." The crimson-haired princess frowned before turning her attention to the Rokoko male kneeling before her. She strode forward until she stood before him, glaring at him.
"Do you remember how you ambushed the Morgue Clan's Fortress and kidnapped a few people? One of them was a daughter of Morgue. Her name is Rose, my second cousin." At the name my eyebrows shot up immediately and I stared at her, but Camus continued to burn her eyes at the prisoner, watching and observing him closely. "What did you do to her?"
The prisoner grinned broadly and spoke in the language of his tribe, clearly excited and elated. The other tied up members laughed at the words that were being spoke, but the daughter of Morgue ignored them. Instead she asked for the words to be translated but unfortunately anyone who could were either killed or kidnapped from prior kidnappings.
"Is there no one who can translate then?" asked the crimson-haired princess, feeling a bit frustrated herself.
"...that's the case unfortunately." The prison guard sighed dejectedly. "Makes it that much harder to interact with them."
"I know how to speak a bit of their tongue." I said, approaching the man who continued to sneer and grin arrogantly after he said his piece. "How about I converse with him?"
"Honestly, what can't you do, really." The daughter of Morgue huffed but her words weren't out of malice, in fact she was actually impressed. "Are you fluent in it?"
"Just basic phrases, much like the other tribes." I squatted till I was eye level with the tied up prisoner, keeping my expression neutral. "Tell me what you want me to say to him and I will."
"Then ask him about Rose, she was kidnapped the last time a raid happened. Red hair, eyes, pure white skin. Twelve year old child." Camus said and I followed her lead, speaking the words to him. The Rokoko prisoner grinned at my words, I know he understood what I said. He looked me straight in the eye and said a singular word, a reddish glint in his eyes like he was proud of what he had done. Squeezing my eyes shut for a brief moment while a mental image of a smiling Rose popped into my head, I stood up but made no indication to move. Everyone had their eyes going between me and Camus who was awaiting my verdict.
"He says she's dead." I finally translated to the crimson-haired princess. Then I asked the man something else without her input because I wanted the whole picture, speaking his language to not let Camus know, "How did you do it? Why?" He replied with a couple of words, all short answers but I got the jest of it. Rose did not go quietly nor did she not die peacefully, it was slow and torturous and these Rokoko scums made sure of it.
"What did you ask him just now?" Camus asked me, noting the change in demeanor immediately and knew I had asked another question. When I didn't turn around to answer her she stormed up and grabbed me by the collar, pulling me up to look at her, lips pulled back to show tiny hints of ivory. She may be the daughter of Morgue but here in this moment she acts like a Baskerville hound who is focused on a mission. "What the hell did you ask him! Answer me!"
"I asked him how he did it and why." I told her slowly, watching as she loosened her grip, eyes widening in shock. "You don't want to know, it isn't for the faint of heart."
"The hell I don't, but for now..." There was a moment of pause before the raw anger inside her ignited and she turned her eyes onto the kneeling man, everyone else backed up a bit to get out of her way. "Currently the high representative of the life court is healing people. And the high representative of the death court is inspecting another territory, so the highest authority here is the Vice-Fortress Captain and medium representative, Camyu Morgue. Verdict. Summary execution." An iron skewer shot out from underneath the Rokoko prisoner, piercing him through the chest. Then, with the encasement of a fire spell, he began to burn alive, screaming and wailing as he experienced his own death.
So that is how she does it, makes sense now why those hanging outside in the front look so heinous... I watched the man turn into a charred corpse, the screaming voice piercing the area in Rokoko language, perhaps screaming for mercy but those were some complicated words that I don't know.
"Scream as much as you want, no one will save you." Camus' voice was so cold and unfeeling, a low deep growl where warmth or love can never be found. Even the blaze of the flame cast multiple dark shadows within her eyes as she watched the putrid man burn before her, it didn't even bring her a single ounce of joy. "After this war, your words will only be used in Hell."
The other prisoners watched the burning corpse before turning their anxious eyes to us, worried that they would end up the same way. They braced themselves when I turned to approach them, their mouths opened and screeching words of mercy but I silenced them without hesitation. My arm moved before my brain could and soon two headless corpses fell onto the ground. I turned my attention to the last one who is crying and trying to save his life, prostrating himself before me. I prowled towards him before the Morgue guard quickly placed herself between us and held out her arm to stop me, steeling her nerves when I turned my gaze to her.
"You've made your point, but we still need information from them and now we only have this one left." She says, shocked that her voice didn't tremble. "Now before you tell me that we can capture more Barbarian prisoners when they do their raid, but we need some information about the prior attacks as well as future ones. I'm sure he'll be more susceptible to answering questions after seeing what the Vice-Fortress Captain has done as an example...and by you with his two buddies over there. Don't bother wasting your energy on them...please look after the Vice-Fortress Captain instead. She needs you."
I turned to see that Camus had indeed stormed out without a single word and after getting a nod of approval, I took my leave as well and walked away, leaving the sniffling trembling prisoner behind with the guard.
Outside the area...
I found Camus rather quickly standing a couple feet away, her shoulders shaking and she was holding herself with one arm on the other. As I approached her I could hear her letting out soft sobs, she tried so hard to keep it together and not break in the front of everyone, especially not in front of the prisoners who'd take tremendous glee at watching her lose control. But in the end she was only a little girl, she's doing her best in these circumstances. Circling around till I faced her, I observed as she cried with a hand over her mouth trying to muffle her voice.
"Princess..."
"You know how Rose was, after you left she and I became closer than before." She said to me, rubbing her eyes that were blotched red. "She followed me everywhere with a smile on her face. I watched how she improved with her studies and magic and she always found ways to impress me and mother. Rose was still a good and innocent child that didn't fit with the brutal world of Morgue Clan."
"...this is why you didn't want to tell me what happened to her when I asked." I murmured and she nodded her head. It was more like she couldn't tell me, because Rose had already been kidnapped and possibly died between the span of five years since I left Morgue; the Rokoko prisoner basically confirmed it with his own words. An unsettling feeling settled in the pit of my stomach and twisted, it was something I've never felt before but I felt ill.
"You know, even though I asked for a translator...I'm still a genius. I can't speak the language but I can understand a little. So tell me that I didn't hear that bastard wrong. I heard what I heard, right? The truth of Rose's death." I couldn't deny those words because of course she'd noticed. What that Rokoko bastard said in response to my question was, 'Ate. Her.', and I naively told Camus that the word he said was 'Dead' because I didn't know she could understand him. The tribe of shamans Rokoko and a tribe of cannibals are one and the time, it is their custom to catch and eat prisoners; sometimes the process of eating prisoners could be quick and painless, other times it was a slow torture. Therefore when he said that they ate her it only confirmed that tradition was still standing.
After I confirmed that she indeed hear those words correctly she broke down again into tears, because she could only blame herself for not protecting Rose from her gruesome fate. I ended up pulling her close against me, cradling her head softly as she openly wept. She repeatedly said how sorry she was for not being there for her younger sister, how she couldn't protect her from being kidnapped, clinging to me like a lifeline.
"How...tell me how they did it..." She whispered to me after she got some control over her tears, her voice slightly hoarse from the screaming, "I know you...you asked that bastard..."
"Are you sure?" I asked her with concern in my voice. It was hard enough knowing that Camus wasn't there for Rose, it's a whole other issue to learn about the last moments of the young Morgue's fleeting life at the hands of her tormentors. Now my attention is solely focused on the Morgue girl in my arms because she's still here and alive. Seeing and watching how she reacted to the news of Rose's death I worry about how she'll react when she knows the rest. "I am serious when I say it'll upset you greatly, you won't be able to handle it."
"Don't you dare tell me what I can or cannot handle! That's for me to decide!" Camus snarls in response, her anger spiking at my words. She deflated a bit before continuing, in a somewhat softer volume, "...yes, I want to know how because if I don't then that question will continue to plague me and I won't be able to sleep for days." Her fingers dug into my clothes a bit painfully as though she was trying to brace herself for what she's about to hear. "Tell me word for word, don't leave out any details...please."
So I did upon her request after taking a deep breath myself, repeating the Rokoko bastard's words like it is so that there was no room for no misunderstandings. Camus' body stiffened in my hold and I can only imagine her eyes widening with horror hearing what those scum did to Rose until her dying breath. Once I finished speaking Camus pressed her face against my neck and held onto me tighter, another round of crying and tears crawled its way out her throat. Removing my hand that had cradle her head I wrapped my arms around her in a secure manner, becoming her anchor and support in these times where she wanted to grieve for a sister; I thought to myself if I were to act like as she does now if someone I had a connection to in Baskerville were to die and I wasn't there.
Ahhh, of course I would. My brother Vikir is the only exception because he allowed me to show my weakness in front of him without judgment, unlike Hugo who would kill any hound who dared to show their emotions. I would shed all the tears, cry till my voice is hoarse and my throat is raw. I would let my emotions show for Vikir alone. Everyone else can die for all I care and I'll make sure it would be just as slow and torturous.
"Sorry, I must be in such a mess. It's unbecoming of someone like myself, but it felt better getting this bottled up sadness off my chest." After a while, the crimson-haired princess sniffled and hastily wiped away her tears with a hand, rubbing her sleeve on her cheek. Turning to me she noticed the tears that I've shed alongside her, some still rolling down my face. She reached out to wipe them away, and I let her do so. Her gaze was soft as she caressed my cheek. "And you...you're crying for her too, someone who is supposed to be an emotionless hound. Because she means something to you."
"Of course I'd cry for her, that's what friends do. She promised that she wanted a match with me when we see each other again. She wanted to see if she could hold her own against me, much like you did when we sparred each other...and now that promise will never come to fruition." I brushed some of her hair out of her face, mulling over my thoughts for a minute, before gently rising onto my tiptoes and placing a brief kiss on her temple. Camus blinked as I lowered myself and moved back, a slight blush starting to show on her face when she realized what I had done. "However, even though Rose is no longer here she'll always mean so much to you. It would be improper of me not to shed tears for her."
Camus smiled at me and to my surprise it was her turn to pull me into a hug, comforting me in her own way. I leaned into her and buried my nose against the crook of her neck and shoulder, turned my head to the side and planted some small kisses against her luscious crimson locks, which she just giggled when she felt them and nestled closer in response. We held each other for awhile longer, ignoring the world in the background and just focused on us; two fifteen year old geniuses from two separate clans trying to do what's best for everyone while handling other important matters for a stable future.
"Thank you...for being here with me and perhaps for me. I don't know what I'd do if I had to shoulder it alone." She whispers to me, pulling away to look at me fully. Her eyes were still a bit red, but I could tell that there was a fire burning within her. She'll never let the Rokoko or any other Barbarian tribe go for the atrocities they've committed against her family. "If you had tried to comfort me awkwardly or without any meaning behind the action, I would've killed you."
"Wouldn't expect anything less from you. Which is why I shouldn't be half-assing anything with you, especially on a topic as delicate as this one." I responded and wiped away some stray tears from her face, remembering how she wiped away my tears from earlier. "I suspect you want to take revenge for Rose soon."
"Not just her, for every member of Morgue that were kidnapped or killed since we got here, so we need to pull ourselves together." There was the cold tone in her voice as she spoke, as if she had finished mourning her sister. "I understand that I'll still feel a sort of sadness for a couple of days, but we can't stay all mopey and depressed forever. Rose is not coming back no matter how much I wish for it."
Heroes are quite different from what I imagine..."Princess, it's admirable for you to move forward and not dwell on what happened, but it's okay to let yourself feel sad from time to time to remember her and celebrate her life." I reminded her, being considerate of her mental and emotional states. If she didn't take the time to tend to these needs she may have a massive breakdown that she won't recover from, so I had to make sure she took the small steps in between the much larger steps. "You don't have to put on a strong front all the time."
"It's not that I don't have to...I need to." There was some kind of conviction in her voice as she said those words, her eyes hardening and defiant. I observed her before nodding my head, knowing that it shouldn't be my plant to try and convince her otherwise. She softened her expression a bit and gently squeezed my forearm, a gesture of thanks for worrying about her.
"It's getting a little late. Perhaps it's time we turn in and prepare for tomorrow." I glanced up to the sky as I said my words. A change in topic felt like a cop out, but for now it's the best I can do. Now whether it's for her or me I cannot tell exactly, perhaps it's for the two of us since we've known Rose a little longer.
"Mmmmmm you did travel a lot to get here after all so it's understandable that you'd be tired." The crimson-haired princess agreed as she also glanced up at at the sky. Lowering her head she grasp my hand and tugged me along, stating, "Come on then, allow me to show you to where you'd be staying."
Inside the canteen...
Before I could be dragged to a room for some rest, Camus actually hauled me to the mass hall where food was being distributed stating that eating sounded a lot more appealing than sleeping. Since this fortress was out of its way in Baskerville territory it was way off from the grandiose setting within Morgue Clan; I can't say I am surprised since we focus more on completing missions and not so much eating extravagant meals so I kept the bar at the bare minimum. When we arrived there were a couple members of both Morgue and Baskerville eating their meals – hell I think I saw Staffordshire conversing with some of the other delegates and even some magicians. What's even more surprising was that I saw the triplet brothers sitting at a table with the triplet sisters, I even elbowed the daughter of Morgue and motioned slightly with my eyes so she can see.
Her eyes bugged out, mouth slightly ajar at what she was seeing. At the gate the nine of them were going at each other with gusto, but now they were sitting and sharing meals with each other without too much of a fuss. I felt slightly happy for the brothers since they rarely had the chance of interacting with the other gender, so these sisters were a perfect match for them. Glancing over I sense that Camus agreed as well since we shared a knowing look. Leaving them to their own devices we continued walking until she decided that we've reached a good spot.
"I know it's not as extravagant as what you were introduced to back in Morgue territory, but I can assure you we still have high quality ingredients." She said, observing me with those sharp eyes of hers. "Your stomach will never hunger again, these chefs know what they're doing."
"Are you a mind reader or something? Because I was just thinking about that giant mess hall back in your territory."
"It's not difficult to know when you're a bit disappointed with something." Camus smiled, forcing me to sit down and even placed a hand on my sternum to keep me there when I tried to get back to my feet. "You do have your emotionless poker face going on though, but as your betrothed and partner I tend to know you better than the rest; don't act so surprise and give me credit where it's due. If I plan on holding you to a high standard, then it is imperative that I do my due diligence to know all your quirks and mannerisms in order to respond appropriately. Now stay here and I'll be back with our meal!"
"You won't let me see what's available and chose for myself?" I questioned as she pranced away to where the food is obviously being prepped, clearly all to happy to be doing this quest. She looked over her shoulder and cheekily pointed a slender finger at me.
"Sit and stay~" Then she disappeared to get our food, crimson hair fluttering out behind her. I snorted at her childish command but shrugged my shoulders and waited for her to return. There weren't a lot of tables given the space and there were some spots near what I presume to be a bar, but the crimson-haired princess purposefully chose a vacant table near the back and somewhat out of view. She probably wanted us to have some privacy which is somewhat different back when we were in Morgue.
Leaning against a propped-up arm I closed my eyes for a moment, deciding to get in some rest before my hostess returns. Never realized how tired I was before I began to dream. Baskerville hounds never dream the same dream, in fact they rarely dream if at all. If they did dream they don't remember and chalk it up as having a good night's sleep. In this sequence of events I was back in Baskerville territory, bloodied sword in hand and Vikir's headless corpse before me. Ah yes, this was the day I was ordered to kill him. I turned my head and saw Hugo standing there, eyes piercing mine and seemingly staring into my soul.
Then the scene shifted and I felt a weight on my neck, sharp rocks rubbing against my knees as I was kneeling. I looked up at Hugo was there once more but he's aged a bit since the last image. There were two Baskerville executioners standing on either side of me, not even glancing my way but instead looking to the clan head. He was cold, unfeeling, but more importantly he was absolutely enraged. Maybe even disappointed. But why? I glanced up and saw the razor sharp blade of the guillotine dangling above my head. Now I know what this dream was about, it was my own execution. I opened my mouth to plead my case but the blade sang downward, cutting off any attempt as my head flew. I plunged back into darkness and thought all hope was lost.
"Sorry I'm late the chefs were a bit backed up with some of the dishes so I took longer than usual!" A voice spoke and something was placed in front of me, I could smell something wafting into my nostrils, the aroma absolutely divine. Then I felt someone shaking my shoulder a bit roughly, trying to rouse me from my torment. "Hey, it's time to wake up now. I'll let you sleep more after you eat. Come on."
"Mmmm..." I blinked myself awake and glanced up to see Camus looking at me with a non-readable expression. Shaking my head to drive off the sleepiness I focused back on the Morgue girl as she took her seat across from me. On the table were two trays each filled with large portions of freshly cooked bread, potatoes, boiled meat, and vegetables. Even with just the basic elements it honestly looked like a feast. "Oh, you're back."
"What were you dreaming about while I was gone?" She questioned, looking at me with a somewhat concerned expression on her face. "It seemed like you were trapped inside a nightmare."
"A nightmare...?" I parroted back, blinking my eyes once in a befuddled manner.
"I mean, I've never seen that sort of facial expression on your face before. It was...oh how do I describe it..." She tilts her head in thought, tapping a finger against her chin. "It was a mix between torment and anger."
I can't tell her the real reason for my dreams, of my revenge against Hugo for what he did to me which is why I'm living a second life right now. "Oh, it's nothing to concern you with. Baskerville hounds are not meant to dream." I slowly picked up the bread, tore a piece off and dipped it in some of the sauce. I popped the morsel into my mouth and chewed, my eyebrows lifting up in surprise at the flavor that assaulted my mouth. Absolutely delicious.
"Didn't know you were ravenous too, poor thing. You have to eat to gain your strength so eat a lot." Camus commented as she watched me wolf down my meal. Tucking a piece of hair behind an ear, she herself began to dig into her meal, starting off with the vegetables. Swallowing quickly before opening her mouth, she asks, "When was the last time you ate?"
"Probably before I left Underdog City so it has been awhile since then." I answered after clearing my own mouth, taking a huge bite out of a juicy piece of boiled meat right after. The tenderness caused the morsel to melt the moment it touched my tongue and I held back from letting out a noise unbecoming of me. Stabbing my fork into the piles of vegetables I ate my greens as well, hearing the pieces crunch and crumble underneath my fangs.
"What about the jerky you hounds carry around? Why didn't you chew on those on the way over here?"
"Must've slipped my mind or I didn't have any on hand." I shrugged my shoulders and she rolled her eyes at my nonchalant response. She may have caught that the last remark was a lie – we always carry some amount of jerky or food item when we're away on assignments – but she didn't question it. We ate our meal in silence, sometimes falling into comfortable conversation that felt natural to us. Deep down I'm reminded of these interactions when we were ten years old, even if we weren't very good when we first started out, but now that we've grown a bit more I missed these moments; taking a chance to glance at the other I can confidently say that Camus felt the same way – if those darting eyes and fleeting glances were any clearer, she was clearly trying to sneak peeks my way without me noticing.
Suddenly a ringing bell sounded, filling the space with a piercing noise that interrupted our meal, even the other people in the same space put their utensils down and stood to their feet. The delegates of Baskerville may not know exactly what the sound meant but they knew from looking at the Morgue members that it was not a very good sign so they too rose to their feet.
"Well would you listen to that, Viktoria, truly there is no sleep for the wicked. The ringing bell signals the raid of Barbarians." Camus was serious as she rose to her feet and stormed towards the front with hands balled into fists by her side. I looked at our unfinished meal before following after her as the others cleared out and prepared for battle. "The time for revenge came to us already."