Valkyrie Profile:
Lenneth Novelization AU:
Disclaimer: I do not own Valkyrie Profile or any other tri-Ace properties. Please support the official release.
Chapter Thirty-Nine:
Lucien IV:
Slaughter
"Headmistress Dolce, I'm hungry."
"T'will have to wait, Henri," the elderly woman answered.
"Oh, but Headmis…" the fair-haired child began to whine.
Dolce clacked her cane against the floorboards and gave Henri a stern eye. The boy quieted down and slouched behind an older, larger boy. Dolce sighed, feeling some frustration, herself, as she looked over the small circle of children hidden in the storeroom of a closed shop with her. There were about eighteen of them in total, and they were to be the last group of children from her orphanage to be led out of the city by the Silver Saviors, with her joining them.
They had been waiting the entire night for their turn. Periodically, one of Lucien's men came and chose a selection of them spirit out of the city every few hours. A mob of over a hundred children overstuffing the little storeroom had been reduced to this final lot, sitting or lying down in a circle in the dark. They had slept while they could, especially the younger ones, while the older children were already awake and ready to go at a moment's notice. Their ages ranged from four to thirteen. The three oldest, Jacquie, Mars, and Sheena sat in the middle of the pile, keeping the younger kids as close to them as possible to help Dolce manage them.
Mars looked at their Headmistress with a concerned eye, "It should be morning soon. We can't have much time left."
"What's that mean?" one of the younger asked.
Dolce gave Mars a scathing glance before smiling gently at the girl.
"It means our turn's soon enough," she answered.
The elderly woman walked over to the nearest window shutter, supported by her cane. She had a hunched over gait and wore a charcoal-colored dress with lighter gray sleeves. Around her head was a violet babushka. Her laced ankle boots lightly patted across the floor, making very little noise.
"Rusty should have been here to collect us by now," Dolce thought.
She glanced back at the small circle of children again, putting a finger to her lips, instructing them to keep quiet. Several of them nodded vigorously and some even repeated the gesture to the other children. Then she pushed the shutter out, taking a small peek out.
"Goodness," Dolce thought.
The street outside was dark, but jumping with activity, flooding the storeroom with noise. The sleeping children were roused from their uneasy slumber and crowded the three older youths in alarm. As Dolce watched, the people outside all seemed to be briskly walking, running, or riding south, away from something, and there was a strange orange glow in the distant North, left from Dolce's perspective.
"What could be happenin' this early in the…" she whispered.
Dolce's only relief that she wasn't seeing any guards or deputies yet.
She remained calm on the outside and shut the window again. She was about to address the children when a rapping at the door stopped her. The children gasped and huddled even further back. Dolce clutched her chest, but did not move yet. There had been four knocks, the correct number for the first round, but she remained still to see what would happen next. Another four knocks followed, followed by a third set of four. Dolce still waited. She only moved when the person knocked just one more time. The headmistress released the tension through a sigh. Dolce went over, took the bolt off the door and opened it. To her utter shock, on the other side was Lucien, Claire, and Rusty.
"Luci… huh?" Dolce stared at them in bewilderment.
Claire looked as though she were about to shout, but clamped her mouth shut tightly. The Headmistress almost asked them what the matter was, but kept the state of mind to let them in without a word. The trio rushed in and she closed the door behind them. Even in the dark, the children recognized the tall, lean frame of Lucien, the stalky shape of Rusty, and lean build of Claire.
Dolce came up beside the trio of new arrivals.
"Lucien, Claire, ye've already rescued Barren?" she asked.
Lucien and Claire turned away, from both Dolce and each other, uneasily.
"Not exactly," Claire confessed. "But we don't have time for that. We hafta get movin'."
"Yeah, it's startin'," Rusty's voice shook as he spoke. "They was already slayin' folk when Lucien, Claire, and Gloria met me on the way to fetch you all. Oh, right…"
"Gloria?" Dolce asked.
"I sent her off to collect anyone else she could find," Lucien explained.
"Very well," Dolce accepted the answer. "We still leavin' out by the way of the dried-up sewer canal on the west? Rusty, ye told us the fake wall's already been torn down and they been takin' me children out through the harbor along the river."
The trio shook their heads at that, almost in perfect unison, with Rusty mouthing, "No."
"The old west sewer canal ain't no good no more," Rusty shook his head. "The last group that went through was run down by the dock's patrols. Then they found us 'n' swarmed the sewer. We split up to give 'em the slip, we did. I 'scaped by crawlin' out a busted storm drain. Then, I ran into these two on the way here."
Dolce and the three older children felt their stomachs knot up as the children began murmuring in fear.
"What's gonna happen t' us?" a little girl asked.
"Nothin', nothin', yer fine," Mars assured her with a pat on her head. "We just can't go that way."
Mars smiled despite his own growing terror.
"But Mr. Rusty says it ain't no good!" a boy protested.
Jacquie squeezed his hands.
"That won't be us, sweetie," she assured. "We'll just go another way."
Lucien watched as Claire, Dolce, and the trio of preteens got them under control.
"What about St. Asterix?" Dolce asked. "Rusty ye was usherin' folk through there."
"We got a good flow goin'," Rusty answered. "So, I left to check on everythin', and found we was short-handed on the west side. I went with that last group. That be when the trouble started."
"So, what about St. Asterix?" Jacquie asked.
Rusty knew they weren't going to like this. "The south side's fillin' up wit' the Sheriff's men. We can't get ya in without gettin' caught."
Lucien could feel the tension building in the room and had to fight off pangs of despair, himself.
"Stop it," he told himself. "They're still alive. This ain't over 'til it's over."
"We already decided on old Southeast gate," Claire told them.
Dolce internally scoffed, but suppressed it and even lowered her face to hide it under her babushka in the darkness. No one needed to say it. They all knew what a long shot it was.
"It's all we got," Lucien urged them.
Rusty spoke up first, "We'll be… borrowin' some tools from Old Danny's smithy on the way. If things're goin' the way I think they is, he won't be usin' them no more, anyway."
"Stealing's bad," one of the children chided.
"I agree," Lucien answered. "But tonight's it's gonna save our behinds. Now come on. There's no more time. We'll take you there."
Jacquie, Mars, and Sheena had already pushed the smaller children off themselves to get up. In a moment, they had the children putting on their coats and carrying their small sacks of spare clothing.
One little girl looked at Lucien and Claire, "But what happened to Mr. Barren?"
"Later," Lucien said.
"But…"
"Later," Lucien sternly repeated.
"Everyone ready?" Claire asked the children.
"Just about," Jacquie answered.
"Children, behave and line up," Headmistress Dolce ordered. "Frankie, Codie, Maribelle, Cynthia, and Lucy, you're with Sheena."
While Dolce organized the younger children into groups to be managed by the three elder adolescents, Lucien went to the window and snuck a peak out. It was more of the same, but that did not quell his sense of urgency.
"I'm hungry," the same boy from before whined.
"We don't got time fer that," Mars scolded.
The little boy was on the verge of tears, but Claire thought quickly.
"I've got some jerky," she offered, gripping a pouch tied to her belt.
She ran over and opened the little bag, letting the boy and then other children take out handfuls of the dried meat. It wasn't much, but they snarfed it down like it was candy. The smaller children were still scared and huddled closer to their designated supervisor. One little girl clutched a shabby stuffed bear tighter.
"Is the army really already coming?" Sheena asked. "But it's not dawn yet. The Lord Mayor said we 'ah 'til mornin'."
"The mayor's a dirty, lyin' rat," Lucien growled, but not at her. Then he scanned the orphan brood before him, "Everyone ready?"
"Yes, Mr. Lucien!" several of the children answered.
Jacquie, Mars, and Sheena each had two of the youngest in their sub-groups by the hands.
"Yeah, we're ready," Jacquie said.
"Then we're leavin'. Come on," Lucien motioned. "Stay low, stay quiet, and stay together."
Lucien went to the door, drawing his blade already. He lifted the bar one-handed and pulled open the door. He paused, leaning forward to look out. The army hadn't arrived yet, but people were still fleeing in droves. The air was filled with rumbling and shouts, like a stampede out in the wild.
Lucien waved them over and stepped out, planting himself firmly on the street. Dolce emerged first, followed by Claire and Rusty, each carrying one of the younger children. Lucien pointed them down the alley beside the store. They group turned sharply, entering it in groups. The only delay was a slight one when Mars's group came out. A boy who was barley five took one look at the chaos happening out on the street and nearly fled back inside, but Mars was quick to snatch up him in his arms and then lead the others out. Then, Lucien turned and followed them.
"Forget waiting. The guard'll come any time now. I'm headin' for St. Asterix. Gothar Willem will let me in."
"Ye damn fool," Betty chastised. "Sit yer ass back down. Ye'll be caught if ye venture out by yerself."
But the man ignored her, snatching up his leather pack and hoisting it over his shoulder. Betty crossed her arms, tapping her finger against her bicep. They were in the dimly lit cellar of a collapsed building at the western end of the slums, strategically placed as one of many starting points to head out in groups towards the dried-up sewer canal. They had set up torches around the pillars in the abandoned space, inhabited only by leftover crates of long expired raw vegetables which had been left behind. The peasants sat in the cold dark, bundled and huddled together in the dim, flickering light, waiting their turn. As the night wore on, they were all getting fearful and restless. The older man moving about grabbing his things happened to be the first whose patience gave out. He was a tall, broadly built man with a long hair paired with a receding hairline. He wore a tan overcoat.
Betty watched him grab an oil lamp. Finally, she hissed and marched over to him. He turned and held up a hand with a palm out to stop her. His normally mild, bland, round face held a sharply agitated, fearful look.
"Don't try to stop me, Betty. Me mind's made up," he said.
"Ye gotta have one fer that, Cedric," Betty shot back.
He snorted in response and waved her off.
"Ye can insult me all ye want. I don' care," Cedric started towards the stairs to the exterior exit.
Betty darted sidewise, passing him up before jumping into his path and stretching her arms out to the sides.
"Ya go out there, ye die, an' risk gettin' us all caught," she told him firmly.
Cedric scowled and tried to walk around her, but Betty stayed in his way. His frustration grew as, and he decided to force his way past. He reached for her, and Betty's muscles tensed as she prepared to fight him. Then the exterior cellar doors suddenly flew open, letting in a cold gust. It whipped through the room like the scream of a banshee, chilling the huddled future refugees, and freezing Betty and Cedric in place. A lone figure stood over the doorway holding up their arms out after throwing the cellar doors back. Right away, the hiding fugitives scrambled to grab weapons or to hide. Cedric, who'd been so eager to leave retreated behind a pillar while Betty turned to face this intruder, drawing her dual daggers and dropping into a low, wide fighting stance.
"Peace. It's me, Gloria," the figure above called down.
Betty lowered her daggers, though her heart was still performing a samba in her chest.
"Thank the gods," Betty thought. Then she realized what that meant.
"Wait, everyone's back from rescuin' Barren?" she asked. "Where's Dad?"
Gloria had taken one step down, but froze when she heard Betty's voice.
"Betty?" she yelped.
Gloria then ran down the steps, not bothering to close the cellar doors again. She skipped every other one. Gloria paused at the bottom only long enough to confirm it was Betty she had heard. Then she ran up to Betty, taking both her hands in her own.
"Betty, what are you still doing here?" Gloria demanded. "You were supposed to be among the first that left. Your father's going to be furious that you're not out of the city yet."
Betty gulped, regarding the shorter young woman. "Well, it went all pear-shaped. The flight's been slowed goin', but I don't know why."
"Oh, troll shit," was Gloria's exasperated response. Then she added in a low mutter, "Yeah, we were told that, but I was hoping you'd already be gone, at least."
Betty raised a brow, unused to hearing the normally well-spoken woman swear.
"Wait, never mind that," Betty dismissed. "Where's Dad?"
Gloria drew into herself guiltily. Betty's face fell as worry lined her face.
"Gloria. Where's my Dad?"
The corner of Gloria's lips twitched, and she unwillingly retuned Betty's look.
"I don't know," she confessed. "Lucien, Claire, and I got separated from Max, Granny, and Ingrid while escaping Tur Raghnaill. The tower's back gate was still hanging open when we ran through, and they weren't that far behind us."
Betty frowned angrily. "Why didn't you wait for them?"
"We couldn't," Gloria insisted. She threw her hands up helplessly. "The Sheriff's men and the Cavalry-Breakers started fighting among themselves right there at the back entrance and we were almost caught between. The tower was already burning, so reinforcements would've been coming. We had to run, but no one would've been able to close the gate on them."
Betty stared, trying to process this information.
"Wait, huh?" she sputtered as her mind conjured several questions, causing them to get stuck in a proverbial traffic jam on the way to her lips.
"Captain Mason and the Sheriff fightin'?" one of the others asked.
"I don't have time to explain," Gloria looked up the stairs.
Betty scowled, and retorted, "My Dad's out there somewhere in the city right now, with all this going on?"
"I'm sorry," Gloria genuinely apologized. "We didn't want it this way, either."
"Wait," Cedric spoke up. He came out from behind the pillar. "If you left with Lucien and Claire, where be they?"
"They went to check on Mistress Dolce and the children," Gloria replied.
Cedric snorted.
"Well, that puts them in safe hands, but what about us?" he demanded.
"Do ya know what's goin' on with the old sewer canal?" Betty asked.
"The canal's no good," Gloria answered. "As for St. Asterix, going there would be a fool's errand now. The other Silver Saviors say the patrols are becoming more frequent in the south part of town."
"Why just there?" Cedric came out from hiding behind one of the supports.
"The street's are filling with the guard and the Sheriff's men all over, really," Gloria answered. "But they're focusing here on the slums."
"Then, what'll we do?" a woman asked.
Betty and Gloria tried not to show any fear.
"St. Asterix's," Cedric again insisted. "'Tis our only road, even if the way through is narrowing."
Gloria raised a hand to stop him. "Wait."
"What?" he snapped.
The blonde hybrid glared back. "Watch your tone with me, Cedric, or are you forgetting I can use you as my personal flail?"
Cedric stuttered out an apology and backed off.
Then Gloria got to her point, "Has anyone used the old, locked side gate at the southeast corner yet?"
"Not that I know of," Betty shook her head. "The lock'll be rusted shut and who knows if it can be opened again, anyway?"
Gloria rolled up one of her long, loose sleeves and flexed her seemingly normal biceps, making the muscle bulge.
"You leave that to me," she said determinedly. "I'll tear the damn thing off its rusted hinges if I have to."
"But that gate exits into a big, open field," Cedric argued. "We'd be like wild game to the archers."
"What archers?" Gloria demanded. "The only archers at the south side will be watching the sea for ships from Crell Monferaigne. They won't be watching some locked old gate no one uses."
Betty knew another argument was coming and decided to stop it. "We can choose on the way. We'll be passin' St. Asterix on the way, so we can stop and check. Grab yer things, everyone."
The front of Bedelia's house flew open. Ingrid went in first, holding the door for Bedelia and Maximillian. When they'd both run in, she shut it behind them. Without a word, the two archers ran from window to window, peering out around the sides, always staying out of sight. Ingrid ran down the hall into the room she shared with Gloria. She grabbed up their packs and a toolbox. Once she had everything, Ingrid hesitated only a few seconds as she stared sadly at Gloria's bed.
"I hope she's okay," the pinkette thought. "And Lucien and Claire, too."
Then Ingrid left it behind, turning towards the back door as she did. She reached the kitchen where the rear exit was located. Bedelia and Maximillian were both waiting for her. The elder was down on her knees, pulling a loose stone from the base of the stove. Ingrid knew what she was fetching and waited for her before doing anything.
"Ah, ha!" Bedelia quietly hummed as the stone pulled loose.
As she set it aside, Maximillian leaned closer to see what she had uncovered. Below that stone was a small compartment but it was pitch black. The old woman reached in and felt around until her fingers found a small sack. Her fingers closed around it, and she drew it out.
"What's in it?" Maximillian asked.
He could not see the old woman's face in the dark, but from her sardonic chuckle, he knew she was grinning. Bedelia's undid the knot keeping it as surely as if she could see it and opened the top. Maximillian gasped as light flooded out from the sack's opening. He peered inside and saw three jewels that glimmered with a fiery light.
"Fire Gems?" Maximillian questioned.
"Ay," Bedelia answered.
She closed the sack again and retied it, bathing the room in darkness again. Maximillian's face turned a little sour.
"Those would have been useful for our little trek into the Pit and the tower," he muttered.
"Ain't what they're for," Bedelia sternly answered. "These are for what we be doin' right now. No sense in wastin' all the fire power in one place when ye been keepin' some more for a rainy day. And it be floodin' now."
Bedelia shook her head towards the backdoor. "We be leavin' now."
"Right," Ingrid said, and turned to Maximillian. "Hey. Here."
She tossed one of the packs to Maximillion. Bedelia looked at Ingrid in the dark, trying to make out if she had grabbed the toolbox as she was supposed to. Her granddaughter held up a rectangular object with a handle and thumped its side. It made a hollow, wooden noise and some metal clunked slightly inside it. Bedelia nodded and the pointed her thumb to the back door. They gathered around it, and Maximillian clutched the handle.
"We sure about this?" Maximillian broke the silence.
"About what?" Bedelia asked.
"If we can't get to St. Asterix's from here, that leaves just one route," he asked.
"That be why we came fer the toolbox," Bedelia assured him. "If the way t' church be blocked, Ingrid can work the old southeast gate 'til we bust 'er open. Now, come, and no more talk."
Maximillian nodded and pushed the door open for them.
"Attention! Officers are present!"
The Gerebellum military had gathered before dawn in the market square, six hundred men, arranged in square formations of a hundred, each. None of them were at ease even before the arrival of the officers. Whether it was for misgivings about their orders, or the smell of flame in the air, or the sight of the city's central fortress lighting up the early morning hours like a great beacon as it burned, this was a time of disquiet.
"Presenting, Sheriff Agatha, to address you all and issue you your orders!" the flagbearer shouted.
The sheriff was a fearful visage. Her normally pristinely kempt appearance was mired with dirt, ash, and dried blood. Her uniform was even ripped in many places and her graying brown hair, which was normally in a neat ponytail, hung wild about her shoulders. The only thing still in place was her eyepatch. Even her cool aura was compromised by boiling rage. Her entourage of deputies were in no better shape, looking like men who had just left a battlefield. They refrained from asking her what had happened.
"Where's Captain Mason and his men?" one man asked. "I don't see the Cavalry-Breakers anywhere."
"…They were disloyal," she answered. "Those of Mason's men who were not captured or killed fled into the city to help the worthless rabble."
Several shocked and wide-eyed stares were her response. Agatha elaborated no further, and instead raised a hand indicating she would be accepting no further questions. She was about to speak when another rider galloped towards them from the west.
"'Tis I, Sir Ein of the Fifth. I bring news from the harbor," he called.
"Very well, Sir Ein. Speak," the Sheriff ordered.
"Thank you, Sheriff," he nodded. "Captain Clyde's men just finished rounding up some peasant scum who attempted to flee the city alongside the shore. They slipped out through the canal the Lord Mayor had drained and closed off all those years ago."
"What?" Agatha's angry bark of a reply made him flinch.
"It… It seems the Silver Saviors constructed a fake wall to resemble the real one to use it as a route in and out of the city. I was sent to inform you," Sir Ein explained. "The Silver Saviors are fleeing the city, but we don't know how many outlets they have."
Agatha's anger manifested only as a slight tightening of her fingers around the reins of her horse. She pulled that leather cord, turning her horse back to the men she had been about to address.
"Men, we cannot no longer wait," she loudly announced. "You each have your designated areas and the addresses of suspected Silver Savior sympathizers mapped out, yes?"
"Ay!" one of the lieutenants who had waited with the attachments answered. "We're ready to begin sweeping the city for suspects and felons immediately."
"Good. Begin the attack. Now," Agatha ordered. "Traitors and felons alike prowl the city, and I don't care about questioning suspects anymore."
Many of the troops looked back uncertainly, prompting a sneer that would haunt them for years from Sheriff Agatha.
She sharply clarified, "Perhaps you need it broken down for you? Kill them all. Slay every surviving man from Mason's division that you find. Burn the homes of the accused and the alleged alike, run them down, and be thorough about carving them all up. Spare not even their families, or anyone who tries to intervene. Cut them all down. I want these streets red with their blood."
Then she smiled viciously, uttering one final word, that was simultaneously as cold as a winter night and simmered with the flame of the sun:
"Dismissed."
"Heh! This one screams real good, don't he?"
The other men chuckled as well and kept up the pressure on each of the screaming man's limbs. The fifth guard crouched over their victim with a knife in the man's lower thigh, having cut a long line up the side of his stomach. Then he turned the knife horizontally like a key, and was rewarded with another satisfying shriek from their victim as he vibrated helplessly under the weight of the four man who held his limbs. Their victim let out a scream that barely sounded human as he frothed at the mouth, nearly choking on his spit.
"No! No! No! Please!" the man pled with near coherence.
"But Doctor Hugo's got to check your poor tummy to see if anything's wrong," the knife-wielding guard smiled sadistically.
Then carved a horizontal cut along the man's upper stomach. Satisfied with his work, the guard then set the knife down and dug his finger into the sides of his victim's wound, and pulled open his stomach. Another rattling wail pierced air, one of many. Outside of that little alley, out on the street, people fled for their lives as the Gerebellum armed forces rode through on their horses caring not who was in their way.
An elderly woman hiked up her skirt as she ran as best she could over the worn stone streets, gasping and sobbing as tears and sweat caked her face. All around her, younger or sturdier-built folk ran around or pushed past her, nearly knocking her over many times. Behind them, the sound of hooves were getting louder. Yet not a soul stopped to help her along. A well-built young man flew past and left her in his wake without so much of a second look.
The old woman heard someone trip and fall, and was then spurred on by the sounds of hooves stomping flesh and bone, and the person's brief cries before death's release. Along the sides of the street, just outside of the path of the stampeding men, Deputies on foot crowded store and house fronts, either breaking in or pulling people out and forcing them down on their knees in lines.
"Somebody, please!" the old woman begged with a hoarse voice. In her exhaustion and fear, her words were unclear.
The hooves couldn't be more than a few paces behind now, but she still dared not look, not a second time. The horrid men in those horses were jeering and laughing at her, smelling of their victims' blood with pikes sporting the heads of those who had already fallen to them. One man even rode along with an impaled toddler on his lance. None of them were riding as quick as they could, savoring the chase and the elder's misery.
"Giddyup, old timer!" one of them mocked.
"Look't Granny run!'
As a last ditch effort to save herself , as the old woman grabbed the post of a fence next to an open gate as she ran past and held on to sharply turn herself into the yard. The horsemen rode past without stopping, giving the elder annoyed glares as she stumbled away. The old woman's vision was blurry, and she clutched her throbbing chest before falling to her hands and knees. She lied on the cold, hard ground trying to take deep breathes, but her stiff and tightened chest muscled made it difficult. It was like trying to catch her breath squeezing through a small cave hole during a spelunking expedition. When at last she finally got a good breath in, her nose was assaulted by with the smell of burning wood.
"Oi, wut we got here, Guv?" a rough voice asked.
The old woman went very still on the ground, and then heard murmurs, chuckles, and heavy footsteps not very far away from her, and they were getting closer. She tried to turn her head, but those stressed old neck joints were stiff and sore, so with what little strength she had, the old woman pushed off the ground and rolled herself over on her side to face the sources of the voices and smell. She almost wished she hadn't. Her bid for salvation was anything but. Over her now stood armed men of the Sheriff and Lord Mayor's law in the yard of a house they had set ablaze. The front door and windows were blockaded, and she could faintly hear someone trying to escape the burning residence.
The Deputy nearest to her smirked as he looked out on the street where the horsemen had ridden past. His was drawn and resting across his shoulders.
"Eh, gave 'im the slip, ye did, Old Codger?" he actually sounded impressed.
The old woman's lips moved, but she lacked the strength to muster voice to her plea. The Deputy lowered the sword from his shoulders and flipped it over so the tip of the blade faced downward. He raised it over his head.
"Sorry, Ma'am, orders from above."
Her end was swift and quiet. At least, it was compared to sounds of human misery floating up into the air from crowded, chaotic streets. On another street, a man carried his young, wailing son as they fled slobbering, barking hounds the guard had let off their leashes. The father's heavy breathing had become the wheezes of a sick man in his exhaustion as the dogs nipped at his heels. The only thing keeping him moving was the child in his arms.
Up on the rooftops, Lenneth and her einherjar watched and listened to the indiscriminate slaughter happening throughout Gerebellum. Arngrim grimaced. Lawfer, Belenus, and Janus looked on bleakly. Nanami looked as though she was about to be ill, and Jelanda sunk down into a squat, burying her face in her arms, which rested across her knees. Then there was Lenneth, standing still in her Valkyrie gear with a stoic expression that betrayed nothing.
Then a sheer, bloodcurdling scream of a child rang out, reaching only the goddess's ears. Lenneth almost clapped her hands over her ears.
"Mommy!" the child wailed through agonized tears.
His cry was followed by the voice of small girl, wringing out words with difficulty in her agony, "It... hurts…"
Lenneth said nothing, thinking it better the einherjar did not know the specifics for everything that was transpiring down below, even if they could plainly see much of it.
"All those children…" Lenneth quietly lamented.
She didn't have long to mourn when Arngrim growled and spun around to face her.
"Do we really need to watch this?" he demanded.
Lenneth had to gather herself before she could answer that one.
"…Perhaps it would be better to find a more private vantage," she answered.
"There is nothing we can do?" Lawfer asked.
"The actions of humanity are something they will answer for after death," the Valkyrie assured him. "In the meanwhile, I choose from among the slain who are bound for Valhalla and put down the dark creatures of the night. Interfering with human affairs in any other capacity is strictly forbidden."
"You could intervene on our behalf, but not theirs'?" Lawfer demanded.
"The circumstances demanded action from me to ensure you could move on peacefully," Lenneth told him plainly.
"So, you won't save them?" Jelanda looked up from her arms.
Lenneth didn't answer. She just looked away. No one said another word. Their own frustration and conflicted thoughts were plain on their faces, though.
"Does she truly not think Lucien will have a worry or two she will need to ease because of… this?" Belenus wandered.
Cur-eeek.
Claire turned sharply as a creaky old door swung open behind her. From within Old Danny's Smithy emerged Rusty, quietly creeping as he carried a large sack. He pulled the door shut behind him.
"Well, was he in there?" Claire asked.
Rusty shook his head.
"Nah. It looked like someone tore the place apart," he answered gravely. "Lucky to find any tools that looked useful, I was. Managed to find his hammer, a chisel, a pry bar, and some punches."
He shook the sack and let the clink of the metal objects inside speak for themselves.
"Fine," Claire shrugged. "Come on, we have to get back."
"R-right!" Rusty awkwardly complied.
They quickly retreated towards the labyrinthine back alleys of the downtown Gerebellum, keeping behind the houses and never darting out onto the roads.
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A man walked a lane between a series of fenced in plots of land on either side. They were agricultural by purpose, growing either crops or livestock, or serving small ranches or farms. Each plot was an acre big and had a house. Some had a barn. There were sixteen altogether, split into two rows of eight separated by the small lane. Presently, they were all being searched like so many other areas of the city. The man on the lane wore armor and a badge, holding the rank of captain. He was a man of about thirty with light brown hair and green sunken eyes on a narrow face with a large nose.
The Captain was escorted by two bodyguards as he walked the lane. He looked both ways frequently as he watched his men raid each of the properties. Nearly every family sat huddled on their knees surrounded by soldiers. Some of them had been bruised and were even bleeding from the scuffle. The captain approached one of the lieutenants.
"This is everyone?" he asked.
"Ay, Captain Rawl," the officer answered. "Three suspected households due for judgment ae here. The other nine are still marked as 'innocent'. We will know if any of the missing four families are in hiding nearby shortly."
"Good," Rawl answered. "I want no stone unturned, no matter what obscure corner they hid in."
"Yes, Captain," the officer bowed and left.
One of Rawl's brows twitched. This had become more troublesome than it was supposed to be. They were originally only supposed to search seven agricultural plots, but, they had only found three of the marked families at home. So now, everything would have to be searched. Two of those properties had been ranches, and the animals which were shut in for the evening had to be moved into the exterior pens. Captain Rawl had to assume the four missing households knew this was coming and fled beforehand to seek protection from the Silver Saviors.
This did make Rawl wonder, "Does that mean the three suspected families we have in custody had no inclination to believe they would be searched, and might be innocent?"
He flushed the thought quickly, knowing the sheriff would never spare them. The residents of the nine 'innocent' homes were now huddled on their knees outside their homes as well as their own homes were searched
"Wot if they ain't hidin' no one, Captain?" one of his men had asked.
"Then we release them once finished," Rawl answered. "They've not been included on our list, anyway. Just be thorough."
"Ay, Captain!" then the men had dispersed.
Rawl issued the order because there was no need for additional bloodshed.
"Surely there should be no reprisals for that decision," Rawl told himself. "Even from the Sheriff, disdainful as she is."
"Captain! Sir, Captain! Someone's started a fire!" a scream rang out from his left.
Rawl turned, and saw a barn with bright orange light blaring from every window, crack, and front door. Rawl and most of his unit raced towards the barn. Four of his men rushed out of the door, panicking. They were trying to catch their breath when Rawl came up.
"What on Midgard happened?" the irate captain demanded, pointing at the barn. "Were you not instructed to be careful?"
"Twasn't us, Captain!" one of lamp-bearers insisted. "Someone jumped us. They was lyin' in wait. They got me lamp 'n' lobbed it into the straw!"
Rawl grimaced. Then he took a plain white horn from his belt and blew into it. At once, the rest of his battalion withdrew from their search and came running.
"Fire! Fire!" the word filled the air from all sides as Rawl's men came to the burning barn.
They grabbed buckets, either drawing them from nearby troughs or racing to the communal wells of the land renters.
"Fetch some water," Rawl ordered, thrusting his pointer finger at the burning structure again. "There are enough weeds, patches of dry grass and such for this to turn into another inferno. Put out the mess you started."
"Ay, Capt'n!" the four men replied.
Instead of arguing their innocence, they dutifully ran off to carry out their orders. Rawl looked up frightfully at the barn again, backing away quickly.
"Wet the ground as well!" he hollered. "Do everything to contain this!"
"Oh, what did you do, Claire?"
Nearby, Lucien, Rusty, Dolce, and the children were nestled within a healthy wheat garden at the edge of one of the properties. The grain patch had previously been searched by Captain Rawl's men. So, Lucien's group took cover there. Lucien peered out through the blades of wheat, pushing them apart. Already, the barn was lit up like the tower. The flames spread out from it after some burning strands of hay fell from the upper windows and ignited a spot of dry grass at the base of the barn and some nearby weeds. The exterior fire was spreading, past. The Captain's men struggled to put it out.
"They've left the whole place unguarded," Rusty said.
"Perfect," Lucien thought.
He got his legs under him and slowly drew his sword.
"Come along," Lucien ordered them. "We'll escape in the confusion."
"What about Miss Claire?" one of the children argued.
"We won't get another chance like this," Lucien told the girl. "Come now, children. Mars, Jacquie, Sheena, keep them close. Rusty, with me. I'll be covering you all."
"Right!" Rusty answered.
Lucien and Rusty took a couple of big steps, slinking quietly out from the wheat, keeping low. They looked clear around and motioned the children and Headmistress Dolce out. Lucien moved out of the way and flattened himself against the side of a tree with his sword held up close to his body and straight up, watching closely for anyone who might spot them. They were just far enough out of the way in the shadows yet to not be immediately noticeable as the panicking troops frantically ran back and forth to put out Claire's fire.
Rusty and the older kids went to the fence, where he and Marrs first helped Jacquie and Sheena over first. Then they quickly began lifting any children too big to fit through the spaces over, handing them off to the girls. It was done quickly, and Rusty and the boy finished by helping Dolce over the fence before hopping over, themselves. They retreated into nearby brush. Lucien slid around to the far side of the tree and before jumping the fence and brought up the rear. The group began moving low, as far into the shadows and behind anything that could hide them as they could.
There was a rustling behind them, which made Lucien pivot sharply, turning around fully. He swung his sword aggressively as he moved it into the forward middle guard, baring his teeth. He stopped himself from striking when he saw the slight hooded figure of Claire holding up both hands in frantic surrender.
"Whoa! Easy, easy!" she whispered.
Lucien stayed his hand as Claire pulled the hood down. The blonde swordsman exhaled deeply and lowered his sword. Then without a word, he took her by the hand. They ran, following the children, Dolce, and Rusty. Amidst the confusion and panic, they were but shadows in the dark, passing along the outer limits of the southeast agricultural center of Gerebellum.
They went unseen by all except one young soldier drawing water from a nearby well on one of the lots. He happened to spy dark figures of varying size shuffle in and out sight between the edge of unattended foliage and some cottages. The group was much too big to be one of the families that were attempting to flee, and they were keeping to the outer border of the farming lots, creeping past instead of simply running away. The perplexed young soldier than he saw a man bringing up the rear, and the unmistakable glint of a sword's blade and plate-mail in the gleam of the nearby flames. The soldier did not cry out. He was concerned that he might provoke the unknown swordsman into killing him. He watched them head south into the slums before lifting the bucket from the well, and ran off to fetch Captain Rawl.
The barn was basically a pillar of flame.
"Leave the barn be! 'Tis a complete loss," Captain Rawl shouted. "Just get all this out here doused! You, men! Keep stomping! Grab bucketfuls of dirt if the water's too far away! Either will douse the flames fine!"
Then the one of the sides of the barn fell and landed in the next yard, starting new flames.
"Gnome shit…" Rawl moaned.
"Captain! Sir, Captain!"
Rawl turned as a young soldier ran toward him. The man pointed frantically south, almost spilling the bucket he carried.
"Report," Rawl commanded.
"Ay, sir, Captain!" the young soldier breathlessly answered. He continued to point where Lucien's group had gone. "I saw a big bunch headin' that way. Maybe four adults wit' a herd o' children slinkin' through the shadows just outside the lots, towards the slums! They don't look like any o' the renters!"
Rawl's brow perked with surprise as looked past the scene of chaos around them towards the ruined buildings of the slums.
"Any particular reason it couldn't be the fleeing renters?" Rawl asked.
"Too few adults. Too many tykes. And none o' the renters wore armor," the young soldier answered.
"Armor?" Rawl repeated.
"Ay," the soldier nodded. "They was wit' an armored swordsman, they was."
"Armored warrior?" Rawl pondered. "But there's not a single thing in there that could help them. They're due to be burned as well."
He shook his head, which refused to wrap itself around this report. "Nothing… and why take children there?"
Lenneth suddenly moved after being still for hours, startling Jelanda and Nanami. The Valkyrie looked around before settling her eyes towards the sea to the south.
"What is it, Lady Valkyrie?" Belenus asked.
"In the area of the city closest to the sea. The threads of fate draw me there now," Lenneth answered.
"The new guy?" Arngrim grunted.
"Yes," Lenneth answered. "Come, my einherjar."
"Thanks for the spare hood, Mars. It was very useful," Claire handed the cloak back to the boy.
"Aw, geez. Wasn't nothin'," Mars blushed, scratching his head.
Sheena and Jacquie rolled their eyes.
"Move quickly, children," Dolce instructed her young charges.
Mars, Jacquie, and Sheena herded the younger kids through the ruined streets after Dolce, Rusty, and Claire. Lucien watched their immediate surroundings. They were a block into the slums, but not a vagrant was in sight. Everyone was either in hiding or trying to flee the city, like them. They still saw no one after they took a side lane to cut their journey shorter. Lucien backed through the threshold, ever vigilant in his watched the rear.
"Just straight ahead to the other end, kids," Claire said.
She took the child behind her by the hand and began leading them through the long, narrow lane. The young tots and three older kids, Dolce, and Rusty followed in regular intervals, insuring nearly every child was watched. Lucien's eyes wandered to the doors of the old buildings warily, just hoping they weren't set upon by an enemy in the dark. He frequently checked the rear.
"Must be our lucky night," Lucien thought. "But since when has our luck ever hold out this long?"
Claire motioned for the others to stop at the end of the lane. Then she took out her daggers and peeked around the side. A hand reached around and yanked her forward, getting a yelp out of the ginger.
"Shit! …Shit!" Rusty's panicked curse was drowned out by the cries of the children.
"Everyone move!" Lucien shouted.
The adults grabbed up the children and parted, allowing him to run past
"Damn it! Someone musta run around the block to cut us off!" Lucien thought.
He burst from the narrow lane, skidding several steps' worth. Then Lucien's face fell into nearly slack jawed surprise as he stopped. Claire was unharmed and standing among her captors.
"Betty? Gloria?" Lucien's surprise was clear.
"Uh…" Betty scratched the back of her head, giving Claire an apologetic look. "Hi, guys."
"Did ya just say that was Gloria's out there?" Rusty called.
"Yeah… yeah," Lucien murmured.
With Betty and Gloria was an older heavyset man he recognized as Cedric, along with five mothers, eight children, and five men and young a woman. The six were armed with spears. They lowered their weapons as the children in Lucien's group emerged from the lane. The corner of Gloria's lip twitched.
"Our group's become big enough to be easily noticed," she thought.
"Oi, yer both a sight for sore eyes," Rusty gushed.
Betty looked first at Lucien, and then Claire. "Don't suppose you know where Dad is?"
Claire sighed.
"Sorry, Bett, but after we got separated runnin' out of the tower, we haven't seen him, Elder Bedelia, or Ingrid since," she answered.
"Wait, Ingrid's missin', too?" Mars blurted out with fear plain on his face.
Gloria expression turned grim.
"Yes. Sorry… young man," Gloria answered, not knowing his name. "The half-breed duo is split up for once. Ingrid… might not be able to help us."
Lucien placed a hand of Mars's shoulder comfortingly.
"We're not done yet," Lucien insisted, and gestured around with his sword arm. "We made it this far, and the old gate is near. We have the tools to get it open. We're as good as out."
Claire bit her tongue, wishing she shared that optimism.
Captain Rawl nodded in a pleased manner. His men had gotten the fire under control, if only just. The barn was now a pile of burnt wood and the flame was going out.
"Attention, men," Rawl called. "Attention!"
His battalion moved into lines as Rawl began walking among his subordinates, gauging their viability for their next task.
"It has come to our attention that our saboteur may have set this flame to do more than just give the renters a chance to flee," he announced. "Additionally, a group of men, women, and children were spotted sneaking along outer perimeter, heading towards the slums. They were guarded by a lone swordsman. This crime cannot go unpunished. As dangerous as the slums are, I will personally lead the hunt for these felons while I leave Lieutenant Kipp in charge here."
He stopped and turned on his heels, and whatever he was about to say next never came, as his thought process utterly interrupted by why he saw arriving on the scene.
"Ah… uh, Sheriff Agatha," Rawl's voice strained slightly out of surprise. Then he and all his men saluted her arrival. "Welcome."
She rode up with sixty, maybe even eighty, men with her. They were mainly on foot and all carried torches in addition to their weapons. Rawl coughed into his hand, and motioned around, attempting to explain. Agatha raised her hand as the first syllable was escaping his lips.
"There will be no need for that, Captain," she assured him. "I actually heard your address as we arrived."
"Understood," Rawl tightly answered.
Agatha looked at the burning barn.
"Your unknown saboteur sounds like Lucien's rabble," she said. "This is precisely how they escaped Tur Raghnaill."
"You think this is their doing?" Rawl asked.
"I am almost completely certain it is," Agatha firmly answered. "They likely did not think anyone would notice in the chaos."
"I see," Rawl answered, though he was uncertain of anything. "But why through here? There is nothing for them there. They know we're to burn it shortly."
He glanced at the Sheriff's army of men bearing weapons and torches. "Very shortly, from the looks of things."
"There is but one reason for them to return knowing flames and blood will follow them," Agatha said, withholding a sneer from forming as she stared at the slums. "They must be intending to flee the city through the old gate."
"Old gate? You could not possibly mean the old southeast gate?" Rawl had a hard time believing that. "It will surely be rusted through by now."
"Yes. Quite unusable by normal means," Agatha answered. "But they will have taken tools with them to force it open."
"Even so, the old gate sits at the end of a dead-end street," Rawl said. "If they fail to force it open, they will have trapped themselves there. T'would be suicide to even try it. Either the fire will smother them, or they will be put to the blade."
"If one or the other reaches them before they force it open. We best hurry," Agatha said. "Come along, Captain, and bring those men. We have work to do."
Then she turned to her own subordinates. "Captain Bruul, Lieutenants. We will begin the operation now. Start the fires. Slay anyone they flush out. I care not who."
"Ay, Sheriff!"
"Almost there," Lucien told himself.
The joined groups crept along the right side of an uneven dirt road, passing in front of a row of houses and businesses which had not been maintained by any professional in decades. They were on the final stretch of road to cross before coming the final bend, which would take them right, and to southeast gate. By now, the sky was finally beginning to brighten. The sun was not yet up. Their cover of darkness was soon to wane.
"How much f'rther, Momma?" a child asked.
"Not so loud," the boy mother's scolded. "And we're almost there. This be Wijde Heisteeg, the last street b'fore the gate."
From near the middle of the pack, Betty noticed the back half was lagging behind.
"Keep together. Tighten the line," she called, sharply motioning them over.
Lucien turned to the spear fighters near the front with them. "Help them keep up. Carry a bag, carry a child, whatever."
"Ay," they thumped their chests once in response.
They broke formation, going to the rear. Lucien looked back, checking to make sure they did as told. He was pleased to see them either help the tired to walk or took up bearing luggage or sleeping children, as instructed. It was then Claire came up beside Lucien, trying to take up the empty space they left.
"Almost there," she assured him.
"Yeah, now we just have to make it without being held up," Lucien answered.
The southern wall of the city loomed over the buildings to their right. It was outlined nicely against the slowly brightening sky of the early morning, and better yet, no guards patrolled, at least for the moment. He looked warily at the old buildings surrounding them. The rundown, falling apart buildings reminded him too much of Coriander Village. Roofs were either full of holes or just missing altogether. Many of them were only still standing because of whoever squatted inside jerry-rigged quick fixes to hold off the inevitable. One building Lucien guessed used to be an inn was held up by sturdy boards braced against the ground and the underside of the roof after a load-bearing wall had given out. Some buildings had been patched up with mismatching lumber nailed into place. Stone structure sat with holes with only a few plugged up. One house was missing its front porch, which had long since rotted away. It had been replaced with a large square stone, forcing who ever dwelled within to take big steps to climb in and out.
Unhappily, Lucien noted all these buildings seemed to be inhabited. He could see faces in some of the windows and even felt eyes in the ones which looked completely dark. As they passed a space between the building, he caught sight of some kind of gathering. The figures in the dark did not call out to them, but Lucien still quietly alerted the group.
Then Lucien stepped aside, out of line, allowing people to run past him as he stopped and gripped the hilt of his sword. In the back, the strong men handed back the loads they had taken on and reached to unshoulder their spears in defense of the women and children. Betty, Claire, and the three older kids gave him cautious looks and hurried along, guiding the families and orphaned children away. Gloria and the spear fighters grouped themselves at the back of the line with Lucien. Once the last civilian woman and child was past, Lucien and the other fighters followed, making themselves a wall against anyone who attacked. In the end, nothing happened.
The fighters then dispersed back throughout the group. Lucien and Gloria stayed in the back, checking over their shoulders frequently. They were about halfway down the street when Gloria looked ahead, trying to spot a place where those men might try to cut them off. Her night vision showed her many red figures in the dark, but none that were rushing to overtake the group. She was about to look behind again where she caught a glimpse of the same red hue in the upper right of peripheral of her vision. Her gleaming pink orbs rolled up, and she saw a lone figure on the second story roof of the building at the corner directly over the turn onto the dead-end where the gate was located.
"…Huh?" she thought.
The figure spotted them and stood up, moving their arms around. Gloria's eyes widened when she realized those were the motions of readying an arrow to be fired. With maybe a second to prevent catastrophe, she darted forward, running past everyone else in a desperate bid to reach the front of the line.
"Wha…? Gloria? Wait!" Lucien cried.
Gloria ignored him. She did not know if they were dealing with friend or foe, or neither, so what she was about to do next was a gamble. As soon as she had dashed up beside Claire and Dolce in the front, the half-dwarf jabbed her index finger and thumb into the corners of her lips and cut loose with a loud, drawn-out whistle. Everyone stared, but Gloria did not care. The person on the roof had not fired yet, so she followed it up with a second long whistle and finished with a short one. By now the whole group had stopped. Lucien, Rusty, Betty, and Claire all looked up towards the rooftops, knowing what signal meant. Rusty spotted the figured first and pointed them out. Gloria watched as the figure put their arrow away and then raised their hand to their own lips. Then, the air was pierced with three short whistles and a single long one. Gloria practically spit the air in out from her lungs and bent over, resting her hands against her knees as she felt immense relief. That watcher was one of them.
"Good eye," Lucien murmured.
Then the whole group watched the figure pump their arm in the air twice, visible against the slowly brightening sky. That motion was to beckon them closer. Rusty raised his hands to cup them around his mouth to shout, but Betty slapped them down. He looked at her with slight indignance, but she raised a finger to her lips and pointed forward.
"Wait 'til we're practically under them," she whispered.
"Follow," Lucien instructed.
The group moved with increased stride up to the corner. Once they were in front of the building where the watcher was perched, they stopped again. They were within a few final steps of the bend which would take them onto the street of the old gate, but Lucien had chosen caution. He stared up at the dark figure leaning over the side of the building to look on them and called up.
"Quite a night to be watching the stars," he recited the first part of the code.
There was a pause on the watcher's end, but they then answered with the second line of the code, "Ay, but the gods wait fer no man."
At once, several eyes lit up in recognition of the aged, hoarse female voice which had answered. Lucien and Claire shared a glance and started to smile.
"Grandmother?" was Gloria's surprised and hopeful cry.
There was a faint, but audible gasp from the roof and the figure leaned over the side of the roof.
"Gloria child?" Bedelia's voice was heavy with emotion. "Little One, is that ye?"
Bedelia strained to spot Gloria down on the dark shadowy street amongst figures which just looked like humanoid black forms.
"Yes, Grandmother!" Gloria jumped up, waving her hands to make herself discernible in the small mob. "We made it! And… and you made it!"
"Indeed, ye did," Bedelia clutched at her heart as a burden of worry was lifted. "Who all be down thar with ye, 'sides the fool boy, Lucien? 'tis not so bright I can see ye clearly yet."
"Claire's here, too, Grandmother," Gloria answered. "Along with Rusty, Betty, Misses Dolce, and a whole kennel of innocents we must get out of the city."
"Well, come along, then," Bedelia pointed them around the corner. "No sense in waitin'."
They needed no further invitation. At once, they group was moving around the final bend onto the street would remain a dead-end until the gate was opened.
"They could use the help," Bedelia said. The gate's bein' stubborn."
Betty remained in place, staring up at Bedelia.
"Elder Bedelia? Did Ingrid and Dad make it?" she called up.
Betty stared up at old woman, almost afraid of what the answer would be.
Bedelia chuckled. "Why don't ye just ask 'em, yerselves?"
Then two persons rounded the corner from the dead-end street of the old gate, greeting the group. One was taller and clearly a man, and the other much shorter, a woman close to Gloria's height.
"We heard ya talkin'. Did you just say my Betty's still in town?" the man asked, sounding very worried.
"Dad?" Betty cried out.
"Ingrid?" Gloria called to the young woman.
Betty and Gloria bolted forward, weaving through the group until they were out and ran up to the people at the corner. As soon as Betty was close, she recognized her father and leapt up, hugging him.
"You're alive! You're alive," she wept.
"Betty…" Maximillian breathed as he returned the embrace
Nearby, Gloria had stopped as she and Ingrid looked each other.
"Bless ya, you're alright," Ingrid gushed.
Then she stepped in and hugged her cousin.
"I've never been happier to see you," Gloria returned the greeting, and embrace.
Around the two reunions, the future refugees walked past. Lucien and Rusty stopped on the corner, watching over the whole group as they entered the street. Maximillian released Betty from his arms and then grabbed her by the shoulders and pushed her back as he looked over her over injuries. He looked both relieved and angry at once.
"Betty, what're ya doing still in Gerebellum?" his voice cracked with fear. "Why didn't ya get out like ya said ya would?"
"I've been tryin', Daddy," Betty nearly sobbed. "But the Sheriff's men been blockin' every way out. The old gate's our last chance."
It was then Cedric stopped, looking at Maximillian and Ingrid with anxious eagerness. "Ye get any work done of the gate yet?"
Maximillian and Ingrid shared unhappy looks and the latter shook her head. Lucien, Rusty, Betty, and Gloria had all turned their attention to the pink-haired half-dwarfess as well.
"Sorry, Mister, but barely," Ingrid answered. "Like Granny said, the old gate's bein' stubborn. The stupid thing's rusted solid and Maxi and me've been havin' a terrible time getting' her open."
Maximillian's eyes turned on Lucien. Feeling the man's gaze, the blonde swordsman returned the look. He gulped at the angry emerald greens, knowing full well the archer was right to blame him. If not for his personal mission to rescue Barren, Maximillian and Betty would have both been safely out of the city by then. Cedric moaned and then shuffled past, looking like a man walking to the gallows.
"Well, you and Gloria are both here now," Lucien offered Ingrid.
"And we brought more tools!" Rusty proudly proclaimed, holding up the sack from the smithy.
"Let me see," Ingrid held her out hand.
Rusty hefted it over and she looked in.
"These'll help," Ingrid admitted. She reached out and poked Gloria on the shoulder. "Come on, Cuz, let's get to work. Two half-dwarves might just get the work of one full dwarf done."
Bedelia smiled. As she watched from the rooftop, it warmed her to see her granddaughters together again. As the final refugees entered the street, Lucien lingered the longest and looked up at her, nodding once. She nodded back as a silent understanding that she would continue to keep watch passed between them.
Lucien then entered the southeast road. Knowing it was a dead-end thanks to the locking of the gate, he instinctively felt uneasy being there, even if it was out of necessity. His eyes were drawn to the old gate, finally in sight. Like an old heirloom a family would keep out of sentimental value instead of function, it just sat in a forgotten cranny, an old relic whose glory days were behind it. It was in the corner on the left, built into the east wall where it met south wall. The gate was comprised of a pair of large, heavy iron double doors with a flat top. They were too big to be pulled open by humans. Lucien recalled Bedelia telling him once how they used to use a team of horses to pull them both open. The gate wide enough and tall enough if both doors were opened at once for at least two lane's worth of horse-drawn cart traffic to pass each other as one entered Gerebellum while the other exited. However, one did not need to open even one of those multi-ton doors to simply leave the city through the southeast gate. Built into the door on the right was a smaller door, closer to the size of one used for houses. Like the larger door it was a part of and its twin, it swung inwards only, and was blocked by a great big iron bar that had been attached across the lower part of the gate by a series of metal braces riveted into place by enormous screws, blocking all three doors.
Lucien noted the gate was rusty, indeed, with nary an unblemished inch of iron left on its surface, and the bolt, braces, and screws looked like they had all rusted into one piece. As he got closer, the swordsman looked over the work Ingrid and Maximillian had done so far and noted unhappily how little was accomplished. It looked like they had started on the near end, trying to loosen a screw. A pry bar was still wedged under one of the rusted braces.
"Whew," Ingrid rubbed her hands as she and Gloria approached the near end. "I guess we start where and Maxi and me left off."
Maximillian began to follow them, but Lucien held out a hand, blocking him.
"Hold it," he ordered. "Save those arms for if you need to fire your bow."
"Alright…" Maximillian back off uncertainly.
Lucien pointed at the six spear fighters.
"You men, and woman, go assist Gloria and Ingrid. Take breaks when you need," he ordered. "Just do as they say, and you'll be fine. Bedelia's granddaughters know a thing or two about working with stubborn hunks of metal."
"Right," they answered.
They leaned their spears against the west wall and went over to join the hybrid cousins. Gloria handed one man the second pry bar Rusty had brought from Old Dan's, pointing out a spot underside of the second brace from end which might come loose with the correct application of force. Then he and another of the men jabbed the bar into place and began working away at the brace, putting their weight on it at different angles as they were instructed. The other three and the spear-woman were given hammers and chisels and put to work breaking apart the layer of rust which covered the bolt and braces in hopes of separating at least some sections again. Ingrid and Gloria continued where the former and Maximillian left off, working on the brace and screws on the near end.
"Now I just hope they can also get the door open once that bar is gone," Lucien thought.
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"We have arrived," Lenneth announced.
She took them down, hovering lower towards the south wall, directly overlooking Lucien's group of fugitives on the wall walk. They were invisible and made no sound as they landed. Lenneth, Belenus, Arngrim, Janus, and Lawfer leaned over the side of the battlement. Lenneth's second sight allowed her to spot Lucien right away, and she pointed him out. By now, Jelanda and Nanami wore almost matching pained looks at the miserable and exhausted condition of the children, civilian women, and even their armed protectors. Around them, the more battle-hardened einherjar also looked grim.
"All those children…" Nanami murmured, instinctively raising her hands in prayer.
Jelanda bit her lip and looked at Arngrim for some answers.
"They were chased out of their beds and fled through the whole night to get here, didn't they?" the Artolian princess asked softly.
"'Fraid so, Little One," Arngrim answered.
Janus's eye canvassed the scene.
"They should hide themselves, at least," he thought. "If they are discovered by the murderous rabble that passes for a city guard in this metropolis before that gate is opened, they will be as lambs to wolves."
Belenus looked expectantly at Lenneth again, but the goddess simply stood and watched, her face as indecipherable as ever.
"We cannot interfere, Belenus," she suddenly said.
"Urk!" he shied away, unaware that he had been that obvious.
"The threads of fate will dictate the outcome, as they always do," Lenneth told him.
Jelanda's bright blue eyes flicked between the Valkyrie and the innocents below.
"What's going to happen to them?" she anxiously asked.
Their goddess hesitated.
"It will be close…" Lenneth said. "The local authorities are on their way, and that door will not be so easily opened after so long."
"They're not gonna make it?" Nanami mumbled sadly.
Lenneth sighed. "There is a very good chance they will not."
That last comment was not great for morale, and many of the einherjar found themselves turning away from the scene below. Arngrim glanced over at an old woman armed with a bow and arrow, standing watch over the group from the roof of a building at the street's corner. The sight of her almost amused him.
"Guess beggers can't be choosy about who they let enlist, eh?" he muttered.
"What are you talking about?" Jelanda demanded.
"I believe he means her," Lawfer pointed to Bedelia, who was about 45o northwest of their position.
Jelanda and Nanami had to crane their heads forward, having difficulty seeing the person on the roof.
"I don't get it," the princess huffed.
"Their scout is an elderly woman," Janus clarified. It was not difficult for him to discern much from simply watching how she moved. "Her precise motions denote a lifetime familiarity with this kind of work."
Jelanda raised a brow, before exclaiming, "They're making some poor elder stand watch for them?"
"I think they ain't got no other choice," Arngrim said.
From her rooftop, Bedelia watched as work recommenced on the gate. They already seemed to be making faster, if still slow, progress. The elder looked around the Silver Savior group, nodding approvingly.
"Good then," she thought.
She looked skywards, grinning. "Don't know how or why, but ye gods 'ave 'cided to show us mercy this night. Thank ye, Lady Hlin."
Then, Bedelia's nose picked something up on the wind. She wrinkled her nose and jerked her head back at the unexpected change in the air's aroma. Then she sniffed the air deeply, and paled as her features tightened with apprehension.
"Fire, smoke, in the slums," she realized.
Bedelia looked northward. The old woman felt the blood drain from her face as she watched the entire horizon glowed with a reddish-orange the slums were ignited. Accompanying the wall of smoke which rose above the flame came a new round of echoed shouting, pleading, and screaming.
"Nay, I was wrong," was Bedelia's dismayed mumble. "'Twas not mercy. Not a bit."
It was then the distant clang of steel and sudden worsening of the cries and pleas reached Bedelia's ear. Based on how spread out the renewed sounds of slaughter were, Bedelia knew there had to be multiple units of the Sherrif's men in the streets. And it sounded like they were getting closer.
"If they don't already know where we be, they'll find us soon enough," Bedelia thought with no small amount of horror. "If I don't miss me best guess, they'll be arrvin' in the next hour."
Then the old woman looked to the gathering below her and raised her fingers to her lips. Bedelia sucked in the biggest breath she could muster and blew out three short whistles, paused, and followed them with three more.
Down on the ground level, Lucien, and everyone else in the know stilled. The civilians looked at them with fearful questioning as the Silver Saviors exchanged the direst of looks. The one signal they had hoped to never hear had been sounded. Lucien looked back at the street they had come from. Gloria and Ingrid gave each other uncertain looks. Claire's shoulders sagged as she buried her face in one of her hands while the other raked through her hair as though to grab up a hunk of it and pulled.
"It never ends…" she moaned.
Maximillian felt helpless, knowing they were too few to stand up to the force coming for them. The gate still stood closed, and Betty was still trapped in Gerebellum.
"Wut's goin' on?" Jacquie asked, holding the girl in her arms a bit tighter. "Why do ya all look like someone's just stepped on yer graves? What did Elder Bedelia tell ya?"
As much as it pained Lucien to put these people through more fear, they had no choice now. He met the eyes of the exhausted and terrified crowd, deciding not to leave it to someone else to be the bearer of bad news.
"The Sheriff and her men…" he answered, gravely. "They're coming."
Murmurs swept through the crowd and there were clear signs of panic beginning to set in. Then the volume raised frenzied chattering
"What'll we do?!" Mars cried.
"Stay calm, everyone!" Lucien called, but was drowned out.
"I ain't stayin' here just to die!" Cedric pronounced.
"If you leave now, you will die," Lucien asserted, not just to him, but to all the frightened people there. "You will die like dogs in the street. If you're really that eager to soak the streets in both your own and your kids' blood, go right ahead, but the rest of us are staying right and getting that gate open."
The crowd had quieted, but some still looked ready to bolt.
Lucien decided to try a different approach, "Listen. We planned for this. There's only one street wide enough and in good enough condition for Sheriff Agatha to bring an army through swiftly."
He pointed Northwest from their position with his sword.
"That'll be Gautrek Road," Lucien explained. "That was the main highway which used to run through this part of town when it still thrived."
It was then one of the fleeing civilians interrupted.
A mother of two stepped forward with her arms crossed, "That might be, young sir, but this side o' town was built 'round this gate. Gautrek Road only be one way here. Bouwersgracht, Singel, and Wolvenstraat streets take the long way 'round, but they still end at Wijde Heisteeg right behind ya."
"Right, you are," Lucien affirmed, but he did not lose his air of confidence. "But that's alright. Singel is the closest of the three to exit onto Wijde Heisteeg about ten blocks away. After that point, the sheriff's men have to march the same street, and we'll bottleneck them right where the two streets meet. If we play it smart, we can even the odds and keep them at bay long enough for Ingrid and Gloria to get that gate open. So fall in, troops."
Claire and the other fighters in the group stepped in front of the civilians, lining up, as ordered.
Lucien pointed to three of the spear fighters, two men and the woman. "You three are coming with me, and I'll be needing your names."
"Rivan," a tall redheaded man answered.
"Leo, sir," fair-haired man of much slighter stature answered.
"Call me Kat," the fair-haired woman answered.
"You three will be down on the street at Wijde Heisteeg and Singel with me," Lucien told them. "Rusty and Bedelia, you're coming along, too. You'll be the eyes in the backs of our heads, and you'll take out anyone to tries to sneak past. You other warriors, stay here and work on the gate with Gloria and Ingrid."
"Yeah, yeah, sure…" Rusty nervously complied.
From the roof, the elder waved, indicating her heard and acknowledged.
"You understand your orders?" Lucien asked.
"Ay!" Rusty, the trio, and Bedelia all answered.
"Wait," Claire stepped out of the wait. Worry lined her features. "You're tryna leave me?"
"That's not it," Lucien insisted. "You're needed here."
Claire stiffened, planting her feet firmly with her arms at her sides with the fists clenched. "Now you wait just a…"
"I can't," Lucien cut in firmly. Then he turned aside to address the others. "If everyone understands their orders, my team's moving out. We'll hit them at Wijde Heisteeg and Singel and hold them up as long as we can."
Then Lucien pointed at Gloria and Ingrid. "And you two. I left you three good sets of hands to assist you. Get that gate open, even if you have to tear it off its hinges."
Ingrid and Gloria exchanged confused looks.
"We're not goin' with ya, either?" Ingrid asked.
"We need that gate open," Lucien reiterated. "Do not stop working at it for anything."
"Roger that," Ingrid saluted.
Lucien last addressed the fighters he was leaving there, "You're all the last line of defense if we fall at Wijde Heisteeg and Singel before the gate has been opened."
As his team began to leave, the pinkette remembered something as her fingers touched one of the sacks hanging from her belt. Her pink eyes lit up as she looked down and saw the little bag containing the three Fire Gems.
"They'll need these," Ingrid thought. She called after Lucien, "Hey, wait."
Lucien looked back as Ingrid ran over to him, untying the sack from her belt. He quizzically stared at the little bag, tentatively holding out his hand as she gave it to him.
"Here," Ingrid said. "This be our emergency stash o' three Fire Gems Granny was keeping for just this."
Lucien opened the sack curiously and indeed, inside were three gems gleaming with destructive power. He almost smiled and looked at Ingrid thankfully.
"Thank you. These will help a lot out there," he said.
"Ay," Ingrid chirped.
Then, Ingrid returned to work on the gate.
Lucien waved his team over. "Come on. They'll be marching on Wijde Heisteeg right this minute. See you on the ground in just a moment, Elder Bedelia."
Then he held up the sack of gems so the old woman could see them from the roof. "I have a few ideas for what we can do with these, and you'll wanna hear it."
"I be comin'," Bedelia answered.
As Lucien left, Rusty, Leo, Rivan, and Kat fell in. Lucien only lingered to look at Claire, and then turned away quickly before he lost his resolve. Claire could not believe this. He was really marching off to just die.
"No," she couldn't allow this. "No."
"Claire, wait," Maximillian called.
But she was already racing after Lucien, cutting past his men and then planting herself in front of him.
"Claire…" Lucien began to move past.
Her hand shot out and pushed against his chest, but he did not stop, so she walked beside him.
"That's your great plan, then? Go out and die?" she angrily demanded.
"No, my plan is to buy time, no matter what I must do to get it," he answered.
"But just six of ye against all the Sheriff's men? And without Ingrid and Gloria's dwarven strength and senses this time?" Claire begged. "Please, we'll find another way to stall them."
Lucien briskly exhaled, squeeing his eyes shut yearningly for just a moment.
"If only we had the time, Claire," he said. "But we've run out of that. It's this or just let Agatha take our heads."
"But your plan is suicide!" Claire cried.
Lucien snapped, "You think I don't know that?"
Claire was taken utterly by surprise by his outburst. Lucien slowed up some, reining it in.
"I'm sorry, Claire," there was genuine sorry in his eyes and voice. "But please understand. For once, this isn't about Platina, or my guilt."
"Then, what is it about?" Claire was almost afraid of the answer.
"This is about getting those people out of the city," Lucien told her. "Truly, it is. I admit it. I messed up. I shoulda just dropped it when I learned Barren had been taken to The Pit, but instead, I was selfish. Instead of being the leader you all needed, I sacrificed everyone for one person and even brought along key people from among the Silver Saviors, like Elder Bedelia, when we should've all been helping with the evacuation."
"But Lucien…"
"Please," Lucien stopped Claire's rebuttal.
When Claire looked into his eyes, she saw the man Lucien had been slowly becoming all along, and it frightened her. The calmness in the face of death and the confidence that his course was just were very the image of a hero from a storybook, but he was right there in front of her. She barely noticed the tears running down her face.
"Please, Claire," Lucien kept his voice low. "This is our only choice now. This is all I, we, can do now. Please, go back. Those people are going to need you once they're out in the wild."
"But why does it hafta be you?" she tearfully demanded.
"Because I'm the best sword arm we have right now," Lucien answered.
He reached out and cupped one of her cheeks in his hands and she leaned into its warmth, clutching it in her own hands, not wanting to him go. Tears threatened to fall from his own eyes by then.
"…I'm sorry, Claire."
Then he withdrew his hand and quickened pace to walk away. The three spear fighters, Rusty, and Bedelia also walked past, deliberately not making eye contact with Claire. The redhead stopped and inelegantly wiped her tear-stained eyes with her sleeve as she attempted to weep quietly.
"Why… Why did we have to run out of time?" she wept.
As they left her behind, Bedelia came up beside Lucien in line, glancing down at her sack of Fire Gems.
"Now then, boy," the old woman inquired. "What be this plan o' yer's?"
"Simple," Lucien said, holding up the sack of gems. "You and Rusty each take one, and I'll keep the third.. Once Rivan, Leo, Kat, and I choke them up, you and Rusty will use these blast buildings along the alleys behind the buildings, plugging those lanes. Keep 'em forced out onto the main street."
Bedelia smirked approvingly for perhaps the first time since Lucien's return.
"Chokin' 'em up more," she said. "I knew there was a brain in there if ye ever bothered to use it."
"Well, don't heap too much praise on me all at once. I might just blush," was Lucien's sardonic reply.
"Fire when ready," Agatha ordered.
"Ay, Ma'am," came the enthusiastic response of the archers.
The front row got down on their knees in front of the second, who stood. Their unit had just thrown at least a dozen torches onto the roof and through the windows of the old furniture store, which was now burning quickly with a satisfying burst of orange and yellow in the upstairs windows of the south side of the building. Shouts and cries came from within, and Agatha smirked. She had positioned her men at the southwest corner at the only viable exits. The vagrants that had refused to come out willingly would be flushed out through one of those doors with her squad waiting. The glow of flames ungulated before her, casting many wobbling shadows of the sheriff, as the flames spread.
"This is more satisfying than I could have ever imagined," the sheriff thought. "Whoever would have known paying back these lowlifes for all the humiliations I've suffered through the years could be so… exhilarating?"
A thumping at the side of the building refocused her on the task at hand. As her men adjusted their aim, Agatha's grip on her horse's reins tightened. The peasants burst out into the alley, coughing and half-blinded by the smoke and ash that was quickly filling the building. They barely had a chance before the front row of crossbow archers opened fire. The spread concentrated into a narrow volley as it entered the alley, striking many of fleeing people down at once. Then, while the front row reloaded, the second row fired, downing most of the remaining vagrants.
One man that had been hit in the left thigh and the upper chest on the same side, fell to the ground, writhing in pain but very much still alive.
"For the gods' sakes, please. We didn't do nothin'," he begged.
"Unfortunately for you, we, the authorities, are past questioning you rabble," Agatha answered his plea. "Say allow to Garm for me."
The front row of crossbow archers finished reloading and aimed at him.
"No! No, no, please," the man scooted backwards, pitifully holding up a hand.
Twang! The triggers were pulled, and the man was punctured by multiple bolts at once and fell dead. Agatha turned her horse aside.
"Move out," she ordered. "Scouts, fan out again. Maintain groups of four as before. We shall continue flushing them out. The more they scream, the more they'll draw a certain do-gooder by the name Lucien."
"Ay!" the scouts complied.
They broke off to search the buildings in grids while the Sheriff and the main force remained in the square surrounded by burning ruins. Then, from further south a small detachment entered the street on horseback, led by Captain Rawl. Agatha turned her horse to greet them. They stopped, saluting by raising their right arms level and then thumping their chests once with their fist.
"Captain," Agatha acknowledged him.
"Sheriff," Rawl replied.
"Report."
"Units Six and Seven have cleared the way to the old fish market," Rawl said. "We have set up a perimeter there and make ready to begin the march through the center of the slums. 'Twill be simple to bring in more men and supply reinforcements with this checkpoint established."
"Excellent," Agatha said. "Has there been any sign of Lucien or his insufferable rabble as of yet?"
Rawl shook his head. "Alas, no, Sheriff. At least, not yet. We have only met minor resistance from squatters and other hoodlums, but they have been dealt with."
Rawl hid his distaste for this kind of work, taking a breath. "And 'twas with all the prejudice you instructed us to dole out. The men will be ready, no later than my return to relay your orders. They but await that command."
"Consider it given," Agatha ordered. "Be advised, though the roads are narrow. If the men are unwary, Lucien's rabble can keep them fended off even with inferior numbers. If they become too stalled up, do not hesitate to begin sending men to cut around city blocks through the alleys and side lanes."
"Ay, Sheriff," Rawl saluted again.
"You are dismissed," Agatha then said. "Now go, and begin the operation. Unit 8 and I will follow behind, picking off stragglers left in your wake."
"You'll not be joining us?" Rawl seemed perplexed.
"Humph," Agatha snorted. She looked to and thro with her eye. "If I know Lucien and his Silver Bleeding Hearts, 'twould be a poor decision to concentrate the entire force in one place."
"You suspect they lie in wait, ready for a real battle?" Rawl asked.
"I suspect they have something up their sleeves. Now, go," she gruffly commanded.
"Ah! Yes, Sheriff!" Captain Rawl nearly gagged.
Then he and his guards left with upmost haste.
"The sound of marching is growing closer. They sound like they're coming from both straight ahead and down Singel right now."
Lucien lifted his head from the ground, looking up the derelict street. It did not quite go in a straight line through the slums, but straight enough to give him a long vantage into the distance before a gradual curve to the right blocked him from seeing any further. He laid his head back down briefly, and the stomping footsteps sounded audibly louder yet.
"Not long now," he concluded.
Lucien quietly stood up. He pumped in a fist in the air twice, signaling his fighters that the sheriff's men were coming. They were hidden inside the buildings he currently stood between, peering out of broken windows. Then Lucien ducked low and backed himself through a low hole in the side of a building on the right. Then he straightened again and looked out the window at the building on the opposite side. It was close enough he could see both spearmen, Rivan and Leo, through the broken window. The street between them was enough room for two small carriages pass each other heading in opposite directions or enough for four people to walk side by side without touching shoulders. It was not an ideal choke point, but it would filter the Sheriff's men through in small enough rows to be manageable.
After seeing the two spearmen acknowledge the signal, Lucien sidestepped and sat flat against the wall beside the hole. Kat hid with her back to the same wall, but on the other side of the hole and window.
Across the street, the two spearmen hid on either side of the window, awaiting the moment of their attack. The road was just narrow enough that they were assured to be able to prick someone just by stabbing their weapons out through the opening when the sheriff's men arrived. All four of them knew they would have to be quick and efficient to get the drop on them, and they'd have to be merciless to survive long.
A block behind them, Bedelia sat on a rooftop. Her vantage was from one of the few buildings with three stories giving her a good view of all nearby outlets onto Wijde Heisteeg. Any stragglers who broke off from the sheriff's main unit would be her prey. Down below, hidden amidst some garbage, Rusty lied in wait with a short blade drawn, though he also fingered some knives in his belt. Anyone Bedelia missed, he would get, from behind if he could. Their nervousness swelled as the sound of many boots grew louder. In another few moments, the first of the sheriff's men marched around the narrow curve. Lucien and Kat both stood, staying flat against the wall out of sight of the hole and window. Lucien unsheathed his sword and held it upright, close against his chest. Kat adjusted her grip on her spear.
"I told them all to wait for the best opportunity," Lucien thought. "They had better not act before then. I want these law-sanctioned killers caught off-guard."
He heard something get kicked out on the street before it bounced and landed.
"Not far now," Lucien knew.
The rebels all quietly sidestepped further into the darkness of their respective buildings. Kat walked around to the other side of a broken table that had collapsed in the middle, leaving only the ends still standing. She hunched behind the nearer half, trusting the darkness to completely hide her. Lucien stepped behind a pile of the ceiling near the other end of the room and did the same, with only the upper part of his head poking up.
The broken window and the small hole directly under it darkened as someone stepped up, obscuring the light. The remaining rays of light shining in shifted around, indicating they were pivoting around to investigate the building from different angles Crunching, sliding noises came from the hole. Someone had gotten down onto their hands and knees to crawl through into the room. Lucien's grip on his sword tightened.
"Oi, don't ye be goin' too far in, Jerome," a voice from just outside the broken window said.
"I ain't," then the scout poked his head out through the hole and looked around.
Lucien dug his heels in and tensed, preparing to move. They had one chance to keep the element of surprise, and he intended to capitalize on it. Jerome had fully crawled into the room, stood and looked around, but his eyes had not adjusted for the darkness. He wore leather armor and carried only a rapier with an open face helmet.
Outside, the officer and two other soldiers watched Jerome's figure vanish into the shadows from the window. The room inside was too dark. Across the way, three soldiers waited around the window. It was a basically a large, rectangular hole with the glass and shutters gone.
"Find anything, Stevo?" one of them called through the window.
"Nay," Stevo replied. "Give a moment."
Back on Lucien's side of the street, the officer again tried to look inside.
He leaned closer to the window, becoming slightly alarmed. "Been a bit long for Jerome to still be searchin' just one room."
"Oi, Jerome, you find anythin'?" he called.
Without warning, something burst through the broken glass of the window and hit him like a sack of coal, roughly knocking him to the ground and landing on him. The officer's two guards took surprised steps backwards, recognizing the corpse of Jerome crushing their unconscious commanding officer against the ground. Before they had the chance to response, another a figure flew through the window. They looked up and last thing either of them saw was red. The rest of the advance team watched as their heads fell to the ground and bounced away before the knees of their bodies buckled before giving out. Their bodies collapsed on the ground at the feet of their attacker. Then the flying figure landed on Jerome and plunged his sword through his back, impaling both him and their officer. Then he looked up, revealing himself to be Lucien.
"Oi! You!" the soldiers at the other window turned to face Lucien, training their swords on him.
Lucien pulled his blade free of the dead men.
One of the soldiers across from him looked through the window of the building behind him. "Stevo, get out here. There's knifework which needs… OLPH!"
Just like before, the body of their scout was thrown out the window and hit the nearest men, flattening them all the ground. Then the two spearmen leapt out, belting out battlecries. They landed, and Leo managed to spear a nearby soldier in the gut while Rivan smacked a nearby opponent in the jaw with the butt of his spear's body, shattering the bone and knocking him out instantly.
"Attack!" shouts came from the rest of the advance team.
Lucien spared the oncoming army only the briefest of glances as the first of the sheriff's men ran up, screaming murderously. Sensing the Kat behind him, Lucien ducked and allowed her to leap out the window. She dove hands first out the window, and landed on her palms on Lucien's back, but he barely felt the weight as she quickly pivoted around, throwing her legs out first and kicked their first attacker in the stomach with her full body weight backing it up. She pushed off the soldier and backflipped, landing beside Lucien. Then she took her spear out of its holder across her shoulders.
"Form the line," Lucien shouted.
He quickly ran into the middle of the road, facing the remainder of the advance team as they closed in. The two spearmen flanked him on the left and Kat took up position on his right. Fifteen soldiers bore down on them, with just enough room for four of them to side by side with any room to move, forcing them into three rows of four with the fifteenth man in the back by himself.
The four rebels stood their ground. Room was limited and they would only be facing four men at a time, even if there were several more layers of four behind them. They steeled themselves with that knowledge.
"Be smart," Lucien told the fighters at his sides. "Watch their movements. They think of you as just a common nothing. Use that to your advantage."
"Ay!" they answered.
"'Tis Lucien! First man to bag 'im'll get a reward from the sheriff," one of the oncoming soldiers shouted, pointing his blade at the red clad swordsmen.
"Just try it," Lucien taunted back.
"I plan to," his enemy replied.
He charged Lucien, holding his sword in the overhead attack position. Lucien raised his own sword in a high guard, holding the blade level in front of his face, just below his eyes. His opponent lunged, leading with his right foot into a long, low step as he swung straight down towards Lucien. Lucien's stroke was quick, coming across in a sharp arc, parrying the man's sword to the right, almost wrenching it from his grip. The move turned Lucien's blade away from his opponent, so he lunged in, smashing the butt of hilt against his opponent's forehead, making his head whip backwards, nearly breaking his neck. The scout fell into the next man behind him. The second soldier caught his hapless comrade around the waist and Lucien wasted no time jumping and putting his full weight behind a forward thrust. He pierced the leather armor of his unconscious opponent and pushed the blade clean through him into the man who'd caught him. The soldier's eyes bulged, and he wheezed painfully as the tip of Lucien's blade burst from his back. The blade had been buried up to the hilt, fully impaling both men.
The man behind them both then took his chance as his two comrades slid off Lucien's blade and fell to the ground. He ran up, leaping over them, swinging. Lucien ducked under his stroke, narrowly avoiding losing his head and sidestepped to avoid a full body collision with him. The soldier landed next to him and their blades both flew. They angled and pushed their swords, parrying against each other until one was disarmed or had his defenses broken. Their arms went around in a complete loop, with Lucien managing to get his blade on top and pushing the man's sword down from the side. While he had this brief opening, Lucien's knee shot up and buried itself in his opponent's stomach.
"Buuuuuuuuuuh!" the man grunted as he doubled over.
The hilt of Lucien's sword came down, smashing against his cranium, and he went down.
Beside him on the far right of the line, Kat twirled her weapon, relentlessly attacking her opponent with a constant flow of attacks, forcing the man to swing his sword almost wildly as he struggled to block and parry her swings. Sweat was forming on his face as his strokes became clumsy and awkward. The spear woman's lash came down from his left at an angle with the blade leading. He tried to stop her momentum, but she instead just allowed her spear to bounce off his weapon and she swung the blunt end forward again, catching his sword by the underside of the blade, and knocking it straight up.
The soldier yelped as his hand unintentionally released the sword, and his fingers fumbled to get it back into his grasp before it got away from him. Kat circled the blade-end of her spear back around and slashed up the entire length of the man's torso. It only glanced off his plate-mail, but she slashed a long gash from the base of his neck and split his jaw at the chin. The man cried out once as he went into shock and hpromptly fell. The man behind him wasted no time with the way clear. He hopped over his comrade, swinging to take the woman's head.
Kat dropped under his stroke and spun herself around, extending her leg as soon as it was angled to sweep his feet. The second soldier yelped as his legs were kicked out from under him and he promptly slammed face-first into the stone wall of the building. A bone-chilling crack rang out his skull and neck broke on impact. The man behind him never got the chance to attack. Kat, without missing a pace, swung back and lunged her lance forward with enough force that it pushed through his parry and stabbed him just below his right collarbone. While he clumsily grabbed at her spear, she twisted the blade while it was inside him, getting a horrid scream from him as he fell to his knees. Then the warrior woman yanked it out and stabbed him through the heart.
Beside her, the fifteenth man behind the rest saw his own opportunity. After Lucien fractured the skull of the man in front of him, 15 leapt at him, swinging. Lucien was forced to bend backwards as he retreated from another swing aimed to behead him. Kat swung her spear across the front in an arc at 15. He saw the blow coming and blocked, sword and spear bounced off each, but the soldier nearly tripped over the dead men at his feet. Lucien seized his own opening and lunged forward. His right shoulder first connected with 15, and causing him to fully trip over his fallen comrades.
"Ulp!" 15 cried out as he fell.
The leather helmet protected his head, but he had still fallen onto his back with his legs elevated, resting on top of the dead men, preventing him from getting up quickly. He tried to roll over, but Kat was faster. She hopped up on the dead men with her spear already raised and plunged into his heart.
On the left half of the conflict, Leo and Rivan had their own problems. Rivan jumped forward. Holding only the blunt end of his weapon, he whipped it around across the front at an angle to avoid hitting Lucien. The stroke halted both of the sheriff's men coming at them. Then Leo charged past his left flank and stabbed at the soldier on the end. Blade met wooden pole as the soldier parried his spear downward, and then swung his sword back up as a counterstrike. Leo swung the blunt end up, blocking his opponent's blade about inch from his face.
The other soldier meanwhile was exchanging blows with Rivan, and it was awkward business for all, having to step around downed men in such a narrow space. An upward slash from below sent Leo backpedaling. The soldier then brought his sword back down straight. This time, Leo caught it with a level overhead block. Then he pushed back, but at an angle as he stepped forward and to the side, closing the distance between the soldier and himself. The soldier growled in frustration as his blow glanced off the spear's body, but he realized too late what he had allowed to happen by letting the second spearman get close. Leo whacked him in the stomach with the blunt end, knocking the air out of him. Leo quickly twirled his weapon, slashing the soldier across the side of the neck. The man fell onto his knees, clutching at his throat to stop the bleeding. Meanwhile, the spearman plunged his weapon deep into the back of his neck and moved onto the next man.
Beside him, Rivan shoved his dying opponent back, towards the next man in line after him, but the soldier dodged. The dying man fell at the soldier's feet with a profusely bleeding stomach wound. The four men to follow passed over him to attack Lucien's warriors, but none stopped to check to see if the dying fellow could be saved.
Rivan jumped in first, attempting to stop both the men in front as he'd done before, but instead of backing off, the two swordsmen blocked the wide swing on both the top and underside, trapping the spear between their blades. Rivan dug his heels in to pull himself loose, bending his knees and his back forward to do so. Leo wasted no time in running and using his comrade as a step stool. He stepped onto Rivan's back and pushed off, launching himself at the sheriff's men. They all slammed into the ground in a pile. Rivan ran up and skewered the Sheriff's men while they were down, even pushing his comrade off them with his foot so he could finish the job before they recovered.
With them dead, Rivan reached out his hand to help Leo back to his feet. Once up, he quickly got back in formation beside Lucien, Kat, and Rivan as they faced the next wave of the sheriff's men. This time, there would be no breaks. The main force was incoming, and they'd just have to try lasting as long as they could.
"Back up," Lucien ordered them. "Behind the bodies. Make them climb over their own dead to reach us. It will slow them up."
"Ay, sir!" the other three replied.
As they backed over the corpses, Lucien broke formation, running over to the window he leapt from and reached under it, grabbing the Fire Gem wrapped in a rag that was stuffed under the windowsill. He pulled it out and quickly returned to his spot in the row of four just as the Sheriff's men were drawing near and passing by an especially decrepit building a block away on Lucien's right.
Sure enough, the sheriff's men slowed up as they began crawling or stepping over the bodies, giving Lucien and his fighters the extra advantage and a moment more. Lucien whipped off the rag and pitched the gem into the air. The sheriff's men had just barely seen the shining object in his hand before he had sent it flying. An uncertain dread tugged at their hearts as many turned to see where the object went. The gem exploded against the side of the decrepit old structure and a chunk of the second floor came loose, and fell into the road. The men directly under tried to vain to flee, crying out loudly but briefly at the hunk of bricks smashed them and clogged half the already old narrow road. Blood pool out from beneath the debris.
Lucien and his three fighters all covered their faces as debris and dust was kicked up, blanketing everything and rendering visibility to zero. Coughs and wretches filled the air until the dust began to settle. Lucien used the rag to wipe the lair of dirt from his face as best he once the air was clear enough. About a dozen or so soldiers still stood on their side of the rubble and he saw more beginning to move around in twos.
"Ready," Lucien shouted.
Rivan, Leo, and Kat got into their battle stances around him as the sheriff's men began to charge again. As soon as the next row of soldiers reached them, Lucien's sword and their spears moved, seeking to drink of their opponents.
Up on the roof a block back, Bedelia took an arrow from her quiver and in preparation for when the sheriff's inevitably took to the alleys and around the road. Rusty, in the shadows, moved around to loosen up and tightened his fingers around the hilt of his knife. Both keeping in mind their other task to block the alleys once it became necessary.
"Alright… Almost, almost… We almost got this brace… off…"
SKRRRRRT! CLUNK!
Ingrid and Gloria grunted as the rusted brace popped loose from the gate before staggering backwards under its weight. Both hybrids breathed heavily as they held the heavy hunk of rusted metal away from themselves and before dropping it onto the dirt.
"Two braces down. Two to go," was Ingrid's out-of-breath murmur.
She rotated her shoulders to work the soreness out of them while Ingrid raised her arms to shoulders level and moved them back and forth to do the same. Meanwhile, the three spearmen who stayed to help them continued to prod at the edges of the bolt which still hung tight and secure against the gate. They manipulated the pry bars and chisels at different angles to loosen it. The families and children watched them work anxiously. Cedric seemed ready to flee that dead-end street the longer it took to break open the old gate. However, a glance at the end of the street kept him in place, where Betty and Claire were posted the corners, watching for trouble. Maximillian had taken Bedelia's place on the building's roof as the lookout. Cedric knew he'd never make it past them.
"Alright, you men. Move to the left side of the gate," Ingrid ordered.
The three spearmen stopped what they were doing, pulling their tools free and moved to continue their work. Then the hybrid cousins went up to the third brace, pry bar, hammer and chisel in hand as well. They both began working over the massive screws, first, to loosen them up.
At the end of the street, Claire to glance back, towards the gate. She was too far away to really watch Bedelia's granddaughters and the men work in any detail, but she still stared.
"Hey, no getting distracted," Betty scolded her.
Claire "Eep'd" and returned to watching. Any other time, she and Betty might have had to suppress chuckles, but not tonight.
"Just like me while I was worryin' if Dad was still alive?" Betty's thoughts lingered on Claire. She glanced at the lighter skinned woman in the corner of her eye, but quickly turned them away. "Should I say something? What could I say? Lucien knew what…"
He stifled that thought, feeling a knot of her stomach form. They knew he wasn't coming back, and now Betty felt terrible for not saying something to him before he left.
"Nah, it's worse than when I didn't know if Dad was okay," Betty realized. "There was a chance he'd come back. Not so for Lucien."
She cast a sad eye on Claire before quickly watching the streets again. "What can I even say? 'Sorry your love marched off to die?'"
"They'll get the gate open," Claire suddenly spoke up.
"Eh?" Betty looked back.
Claire pointed behind her, towards the old gate. "They'll… they'll get 'er open. You'll escape with your ol' man and everyone else, no fuss. So, don't worry so much."
"Oh, Thor's beard, did she see me starin'?" Betty mentally kicked herself. "She's got the wrong idea about what's on my mind."
"Th-thanks," Betty tried to smile.
Claire smiled back, but it didn't come anywhere near her eyes. Betty felt tightness in her chest and averted her emerald greens. Claire caught the look and seemed to know what Betty was thinking about. She didn't say anything, either, and just went back to scouring the nearby streets. She kept glancing northwest, where Lucien and the others had gone.
"I want to go to him, even if it means dying with him," the thought wormed its way him. Claire resisted, weakly. "No, he told me these people are relying on me."
"As if they'll get that gate open in time," the other side of her mind told her. Claire tried to steel herself, but her chest burned in an indescribable pain for the man she knew had walked away forever. "Lucien's counting on me to do this."
That seemed to stimy the urge to abandon her post, at least for the moment. So, Claire repeated it to herself, "Lucien's counting on me. Lucien's… counting on me."
"What is this? Get moving. We're stalling up back here," Captain Rawl barked at the men.
All had seemed to be going well, until the men suddenly slowed down to the speed of a newborn kitten's crawl. Rawl and the other officers provoked their horses into stomping around and even rearing up to urge the men into moving quicker. The mix of soldiers, city guard, and deputies tried to hasten their entry into the next street, but they only succeeded in bunching themselves up into a mass of clanking metal plates and muttered complaints.
Rawl's snarled, eyes narrowing until they were hateful slits. Fear of the Sheriff also drove him.
"I told you men to march! What in the gods' names could possibly by stalling you?" he demanded.
"I can't say, sir, but I hear shoutin' comin' from up ahead," one soldier answered. "Maybe they's havin' trouble with the Silver Necklaces up ahead. All the roads come onta Wijde Heisteeg."
Rawl cursed. Then he turned his horse, looking for men to have break off into the alleys to investigate.
"Of course, they'd be lying in wait somewhere all the men converge," he angrily thought.
"Captain, sir!" the same soldier called to him.
"What?" Rawl glared at him maliciously.
The soldier gulped and pointed down the packed street. "I… I believe a message is being sent back up the line. I'm hearin' somethin' about them runnin' into trouble."
Rawl did not reply. He trained his ear on any sounds coming from up ahead. Sure enough, there was a shout, but he could not make out most of the words.
"Mesh… Cap'n… laces… locked… point's…."
"What?" Rawl strained his to hear.
Then a moment later, another man that was closer turned and shouted the message towards the back of the line.
"Message for the Captain!" he called. "The Silver Necklace 've blocked our party. The whole point's choked."
"You hear that Captain?" one of the officers asked.
"Yes, Lieutenant, I heard," Rawl answered.
He looked among the men again, making his selection. He decided on the ten men at the back of the line.
"You, the ten men in the rear! Break formation and present yourselves," he commanded.
The men he called practically popped out of the cluster of pushing, shoving men. They did not even pause for breath before running up to their captain and saluting.
"I have a mission for you," Rawl ordered, pointing to a nearby alley. "Take to the backstreets along the north side of Wijde Heisteeg and check ahead. I want to know exactly how Lucien's silver interlopers have halted our advance. Send a couple men back to report what you see right away."
"Ay, ay, Captain!" they shouted.
"The other eight will remain behind and attack the rear flank of Lucien's Silver meddlers," Rawl ordered.
"Understood, Captain," they answered.
"Dismissed," he said.
Without another word, the soldiers broke away, running into the tight alley at fully sprint. Rawl glanced at the slow-moving detachment and then back at the fires.
"Just what could they have possibly done that is holding up our men?" he wondered.
"Be quick, Rivan. We need you both back here," Lucien called over his shoulder.
He and Kat were fighting alone, almost back-to-back for the moment because Leo had been injured. Rivan had helped him retreat from the fight and sat him against a building. Rivan tended to his leg wound, a nasty gash given by one of the Sheriff's men. Rivan had torn off one of his own sleeves to wrap it, needing only to fasten the knot in place. Presently, Lucien and Kat's only saving grace was how limited the advance of the Sheriff's men had become. Even then, Kat was forced to alternate between the bladed and blunt ends of her weapon like she was fighting with a staff as two swordsmen who slashed and stabbed at her at the same time while Lucien had gone on the defensive entirely, only occasionally countering and downing a foe at the rare opportunity.
"Comin'," Rivan answered.
He pulled the ends of thread he had tied into a knot, getting a flinch out of Leo. Rivan uttered an apology, to which the other man just waved him off.
"Go," Leo rasped. "I'll be back up in a moment. Just help Mr. Lucien and Miss Kat."
"Right," Rivan stood up.
He grabbed his spear, which was leaned up beside the building. Then, he happened to look into in the alley and saw movement in the backstreet and realized they were people. A Gerebellum soldier hid in the shadows and slowly backed away into the alley that ran behind the buildings and around the corner.
"Scouts," Rivan realized.
The spearman put his fingers to his mouth and cut loose with three short whistles that echoed up and down the road. Lucien and Kat heads turned slightly in his direction as they got the message. Not far away, Bedelia and Rusty also got the message. They knew the time was close. They had also seen where Rivan was looking before cutting loose with the whistles.
"Time for some more firepower," Rusty thought.
He backed out from behind the pile of refuge he had nestled himself behind and cupped his hand around his mouth, shooting out two long whistles. Then thief crept into a nearby alley, the next one down from the one Rivan had seen Rawl's scouts. Rusty stayed light on his feet to avoid being detected.
"That alley is the first far enough to take 'em behind Lucien and his fighters," Rusty mused. "I just gotta cut 'em off even a half-block before den."
He sweat a little at the prospects of lobbing the Fire Gem in such a tight alley with the purpose of collapsing a building to block the whole lane. Rusty reminded himself of the children waiting out on the street at the southeast gate and that steeled him for what he had to do. He slipped into the alley, flat against the side of the building. Rusty was relieved to find that the scouts had withdrawn about a half-block.
Rusty quickly counted them. "...8? No, ten. Troll shit. That's too many fer me, but what're they doin'?"
It looked like they had just decided something amongst themselves, because two of the scouts broke off, heading back the way they had come. The remaining eight turned around, looking to the alley. They drew their weapons and started towards the alley again. Rusty pushed off from the wall.
"Oi! You!" he shouted to make himself known.
Rawl's scouts halted as the stout man approached. Rusty kept the Fire Gem out of sight as he approached, seemingly armed with only a big knife. Rusty swallowed his courage as he closed the distant as.
"Ye'll not be ambuscadin' today," he blurted out.
The man in the lead smirked. He looked over his shoulder as he pointed toward Rusty with his sword. Two of the others also smirked and briskly walked towards Rusty.
"Wrong move!" Rusty bellowed.
Then he pulled back his arm, brandishing the Fire Gem. The smile on the leader's face faded as the spell gem left Rusty's hand, taking to the air in an overhead curve as it broke against a building directly over where his enemies stood. Four of them turned tail and fled the scene while the other four burst forward, hoping to flee into the alley, but they weren't quick enough. Rusty was nearly knocked down by the ensuing explosion. Several large chunks of building rained down, spreading widely burying the scouts. Rusty had flattened himself against one of the buildings again, squeezing his eyes shut and covering his head, expecting to be pelted with flying bricks. A number of small pieces of debris bounced off him, but nothing so bad as to break bones. After a moment, he uncovered his face and looked ahead. The alley and access to the road was completely blocked ahead.
Rusty grinned with a sense of victory. "When those other two men come back, they'll find a little surprise waitin' for 'em."
Something stirred in the rubble. Rusty saw the motion. A survivor pushed aside a slab of brickwork and started to stand.
"Not so fast," Rusty forced himself forward, knife at the ready.
Whether it was his own desperate speed or the discombobulated state of the scout, Rusty reached him before he could defend himself.
Back out on Wijde Heisteeg, the fight paused for a moment when the second explosion rang out. As the fighting continued, Kat and Rivan moved as one, complimenting each other's movements, covering each other, alternating between striking or countering and withdrawing, acting as an effect tool in holding the line. Lucien's latest stroke had caught two simultaneous attacks from his sides, knocking his opponents' swords out of the way, and they did not recover before his blade swung around, slicing them both across the chests. Lucien's sword punctured their armor, cutting into their flesh. They fell at his feet, adding to the pile in the street. Lucien was breathing heavily, beginning to feel pangs of exhaustion he knew he could not afford to have. He breathed deeply to catch his breath and wetted his lips in the brief break in the advance of the Sheriff's men.
"Gotta keep going," he told himself.
"Captain! Captain," the returning scouts shouted.
Rawl watched as they exhaustedly ran from the alley, gasping and almost unable to speak. The two men stopped and hunched over as they caught their breath. He waited with no patience for them to recover. One of them seemed to catch onto this and began madly pointing back into the side lane.
"Lucien… and three others… completely… plugged… Wijsh… Ahem… "the first gasped. "They blocked Wijde Heisteeg."
"Spell… gems… They… got… spell gems," the second breathlessly took over. "Blocked… the alley."
"Tch," Rawl sneered. "Blast it. If they intend to block up the surrounding alleys, we will just have to push through their defenses. How many were there, soldier?"
"Just four out on the road," scout one answered.
"And another skulkin' in the alleys," the second added. "He be the one that pitched the gem."
"Just five?" Rawl was baffled and angry. "So few are able to…"
"Something the matter, Captain?"
Rawl froze the cold voice behind him. He slowly turned as dread weighted his stomach as Sheriff Agatha and a detachment of her arrived.
"Mi-Milady Sheriff," Rawl almost choked. "You've arrived a bit ahead of your scourge of the slums."
"I have," she answered, looked over the slowly advancing army. "One of my own men returned and reported your advance had been stalled."
"There is no trouble, Sheriff," Rawl hastily, but politely replied. "The Silver Saviors are just putting up a better fight than I thou…"
It was Agatha's expression darkened, and the "t" in "thought" died in Rawl's throat.
"You mean to say after all this time, you still underestimate them?" Agatha demanded.
"I…"
"You men," Agatha ignored him and instead called on the two scouts. "You just returned with news for the captain."
Rawl looked as though he was about to protest, but a stern look from Agatha shut him up. The two scouts nervously repeated what they had told the captain. Agatha did not so much as sigh, she just signaled to one of the men following her. He uttered his compliance and took the horn he carried on his belt in hand. Rawl stared at her with clear shock as the horn blower carried out the signal. The sound carried far and echoed further. At once, the other officers ordered the men to begin parting to make room for the Sheriff and her personal guards to come through. Ahead, more horns were blown in response to the first hailing, creating a chain through which the command was given.
Captain Rawl looked at Sheriff Agatha with curious uncertainty.
"You will be joining the battle, yourself?" Rawl asked.
"Yes," Agatha answered. "'Tis time to end this game of shadows with our esteemed 'friend' Lucien. There will no better time to strike. He is operating at a severe deficit, of both men and other resources."
"How could you possibly know that?" Rawl asked. "There could be more lying in wait.'
"'Tis a simple game of numbers, Captain," Agatha answered. "From the intel I have gathered, the Silver Necklaces has been shepherding themselves and their families out of the city throughout the night."
"How is that a good thing?" Rawl sounded deflated.
Agatha sighed. "Think about it. Lucien and such a small number decided to block us at Wijde Heisteeg, so close to the gate, instead of deploying men at all the routes. Those men are all Lucien has."
Her eyes gleamed with eagerness then. "He is finally backed into the corner I have always desired for him."
