This chapter is a bit violent. Animorph level violent, kinda like the Count Mott chapter.
In hindsight, this was a stupid idea.
A really, really, really stupid idea.
What would the other Animorphs say if they heard his plan?
Jake would come up with a more effective one.
Cassie would try to make sure he survived.
Ax would say it was too risky to attempt.
Marco would slap him upside the head for trying something so stupid.
Rachel…
Rachel would probably volunteer to go with him. Or try to go on ahead to risk herself instead.
'Damn, this was a bad time to go down memory lane.'
Tobias was currently riding the air currents to the Reconquista fleet. Judging the distance between the fleet he had seen while they were pulling under Albion, and the small hill the fortress stood on, he figured it would take only a little over an hour to fly aboard one of the nearest ships.
He, of course, had failed to account for the crazy currents. The windstones that kept Albion and the airships afloat created strong drafts that buffeted Tobias at every turn. Eventually, he took the cues from the local avians and found a powerful updraft that took him above the elevations ships typically flew at. The wind currents were still strange, but by feeling them out with the tips of his wings and following the paths of other birds, he was able to avoid being pulled off course.
With twenty minutes to spare Tobias touched down the flagship. Much closer than he would've liked, but not as bad some close shaves he'd had in the past. A few minutes later he had ducked behind an assortment of barrels and morphed into a fly.
Now came the hard part, actually finding the captain. If this was a normal ship, he could've morphed into a seagull to get a proper set of eyes. Unfortunately, being several thousand feet above sea level left very few animals that would normally be found in the area.
Tobias carefully began investigating below deck, starting with the fanciest-looking rooms. He found several bunkrooms, meeting rooms, and even offices, but while most were occupied, none held the pompous-but-plain-looking Oliver Cromwell.
After resetting his morph in an empty room, Tobias continued his search down to the lower floors. He even searched the barren barrack levels and galley. He couldn't find the enemy leader anywhere.
Then Tobias realized that he had forgotten to check the obvious place. Above deck.
Which also turned out to be a bust. There was no sign of the man either wandering the deck or talking with the rest of the crew.
It was then that Tobias realized that some voices were coming from rooms built above the deck. A quick squeeze under the doorframe revealed an extravagant suite, much fancier than the ones on the highest floor below deck. There were banners and tapestries lining the walls. Due to his limited eyesight, he couldn't make out what they were for. Two doors stood on opposite sides of the hall. The one on the left was where the sounds were coming from. Tobias squeezed himself under the door to listen to the conversation.
"—then we'll start the attack without them!" a man was shouting.
"Of course, Your Excellency," another male voice replied in a differential tone.
"You are dismissed. Long Live the Holy Albion Republic!"
"Long Live the Holy Albion Republic!"
The door was quickly opened, sending Tobias rolling under a table, before being equally quickly slammed shut. Tobias regretted that he had arrived too late to receive the context. The person yelling was likely the target, but he would need to gather more information before making a move—
"Are you perhaps nervous, Lord Cromwell?" The voice was mature, feminine, and seductive. The closest comparison Tobias could think of was Kirche's voice, but Kirche sounded amateur in comparison to this lady.
"Don't patronize me, Sheffield," the man grumbled. "We only have one chance to wipe out the last of the Albion Royal family. General Hawkins is impatiently waiting to start the attack, and these fools can't even get their crew in order to meet us on time!"
"Most of them were only recently promoted," the woman, Sheffield, said soothingly. "They will be polished in time. Albion is already in your grasp. As long as you do your part, all you desire will be yours."
"I know that!" Cromwell snapped.
"Rather rude to yell at a lady, isn't it, Cromwell?"
The tone was polite, but Tobias was getting shivers from his hiding place. He didn't miss the lack of a title either.
Cromwell took a long breath. "My apologies," he said in a shaky voice. "The stress has been getting to me,"
"Of course," Sheffield replied in a buttery-smooth voice that made Tobias's hairs stand on end. "We're on the brink of a new era. You will be king, just as you wanted, and Holy Land will be conquered, just as Brimir wills it."
"Yes, yes," Cromwell said, his voice steadily getting stronger. "We have the power of the Void on our side; we can't lose." Tobias felt he was saying it more to reassure himself than his ally. "Miss Sheffield, send word to the other captains. Our agent should be finished with his mission before dawn. Then, we will destroy Newcastle, the Royalists, and the last of the Tudors. If anyone else can't be ready on time, then some positions will be redistributed."
"As you wish." Tobias could feel the clacking of heels as the woman began walking towards the door.
"Also, please ensure I am not disturbed tonight. I will be taking this time to meditate on the Founder's will."
"Very well. Have a good night, Lord Cromwell."
"May Brimir bless you, Miss Sheffield."
'He takes the Founder more seriously than Louise,' Tobias thought in disbelief. He watched as Sheffield sauntered past his hiding spot on her way to the door. Her outfit was bizarre. She appeared to be wearing a dark-colored leotard from her neck to her waist, which ran across her left arm but not her right. Her right arm had a separate black sleeve that started at the wrist and ended halfway across her bicep. Her dress was backless, exposing the leotard wherever her extraordinary long raven-colored hair didn't cover. Her dress reached down to her ankle behind her, but had openings on the sides that showed her legs covered by tights up to her mid-thigh, with the top of her thighs left bare.
It was nothing like he had seen in Halkegenia.
Not even on Earth had he seen such a ridiculous outfit.
Was she an employee or a stripper?
As much as Sheffield was a mystery, Tobias had a bigger priority: Lord Oliver Cromwell, leader of the Reconquista. Actually, after hearing that conversation, he wouldn't be surprised if Sheffield was playing the role of a puppet master seductress. Still, Cromwell was the face of the Reconquista leadership. Even if Sheffield was the actual brains of the operation, morale would instantly drop if the movement lost its figurehead.
Flying out from underneath the table revealed that his target did match the sketch Tobias had seen on the intelligence report, as far as his compound eyes could tell. The man was dressed in green from his robe, to his shirt, and even the round cap he wore atop his curled blond locks. He was hunched over his desk, his blue eyes engrossed by the book in his hands.
Now came the hard part. Tobias couldn't see anything that resembled a wand nearby, but since sticks weren't the only way mages could cast spells, he couldn't assume that the noble was disarmed. For all he knew the book could be used to shoot fireballs or lightning or something equally ridiculous. Furthermore, Tobias didn't actually have a morph that was suited for this kind of mission.
'I really should have thought this through better,' he mentally grumbled.
He had acquired a rattlesnake morph at some point after the war. Some snakes were stupid enough to try their luck sunbathing in a hawk's territory. However, a rattlesnake bite could take up to two hours to become fatal, and at least six hours before an adult may die without treatment. A mage could retaliate with a spell in seconds, and magic healing was ridiculous. Cromwell needed to die quickly enough so that he wouldn't be able to raise the alarm or cast a spell.
Seeing that the man showed no signs of leaving any time soon. Tobias crawled under the door yet again. He decided to search for the other room in the corridor. There were curtains drawn over the windows in this room, which made seeing very difficult. But Tobias could tell by the outlines that there was a fancy hammock and dressers. The fly's sense of smell also picked up a tantalizingly sulfuric smell coming from a pot in a corner of the room.
'So this room is his bedroom, and the other is an office,' Tobias mulled over the layout. A plan began to form in his hand. It likely would take him longer than he originally projected.
Tobias hid himself in a corner of the room before resetting his morph. Then he crawled back to the office and waited.
An hour later, he reset his morph again, went back to the office, and waited some more.
Another hour, another cycle of the routine.
It during this next hour that Cromwell finally got out of his seat. The blond man arched his back and stretched his arms over his head. Shaking his arms loose, he moved out the door, leaving it wide open. Tobias waited until he heard the door across the hall open and close before flying out from his hiding spot. He found it a bit strange that the noble had closed the bedroom door but not the office door, but he doubted it was because he had been discovered.
It was finally time to act.
Tobias demorphed, and then used a morph he hadn't used in years. His skin hardened into chitin. The top part of his head receded, leaving his jaw protruding forward. Teeth as sharp as knives sprouted from his gums, making his mouth resemble that of a lamprey. Two additional eyes sprouted from Tobias's neck, giving him a ring of stalk eyes that surrounded his teeth-filled mouth. His arms and legs fused into his body, and much smaller appendages grew from his torso and lower mass to replace them. His new arms resembled shrimp claws, except he had six pairs. A dozen pairs of thin, insectoid legs raised his rapidly growing lowering body off the floor.
Then the instincts hit. He was hungry. Where was the food? He needed food.
Tobias shook his head as he did his best to temper the morph's eternal hunger. Taxxons were one of the more dangerous alien species he had encountered while fighting the Yeerks. Unlike most other species that Yeerks had to use as hosts and control their mind, the Taxxons were usually bribed with food. The creatures were driven to eat so badly that they wouldn't hesitate to each other or even their own dismembered body parts. Even though Tobias had already suppressed the morph's natural instincts, he could still feel the drive to find prey and engorge himself.
Taxxons were large, unsubtle, and surprisingly slow. While longer than a human, their bodies were built for swimming and burrowing. On land, a typical adult would outpace them. However, that weakness mattered little when there was no room to run. There was the danger of the mage drawing a wand, but that was the advantage of having so many frontal limbs. If the man tried to draw Tobias had enough eyes and limbs to catch any motion and stop it.
At least, in theory. Cromwell leaving the office door open made this ambush harder than anticipated. If the door was closed, then the act of opening the door would at least occupy one of the man's hands. But if he approached the door and noticed anything out of the ordinary, he could potentially grab his wand before Tobias could reach him.
It was a gamble, but Tobias would have to take it. As long as the man didn't scream, Tobias might get away this.
No, this was stupid. There were too many ways for this to go wrong and he promised Louise he wouldn't die doing something stupid. Attempting an assassination without backup or proper intel was borderline suicidal. Tobias was about to start demorphing and abort the mission when he felt the vibrations of footsteps approaching the other door.
There was no time to change the plan now. Either this worked, and Tobias pulled off the greatest assassination he'd ever tried, or he was going to be forced to fight his way out.
The Reconquista leader opened the door with a loud sigh of relief as he rubbed his stomach. The smell coming from the other room was so foul that Tobias could taste it. Oddly enough, the smell was making him drool. Which he instinctively slurped up.
Cromwell stiffened at the unusual sound, and his hand quickly slid into sleeve.
Tobias stayed perfectly still, biding his time. When Cromwell peeked into the room, wand first, Tobias struck. The mage noticed the strange figure in the corner of his eye, but by the time he had turned around and leveled his wand in the right direction, it was too late.
There was a tendency for people to think that head and chest injuries were the best way to silently kill someone. That wasn't entirely inaccurate, but there was a misunderstanding. Head and chest injuries were lethal, but not always silent. Puncturing a lung could prevent them from screaming, but it wouldn't stop them from making whining sounds.
The best way to silence someone was to take their throat out.
The noble didn't stand a chance as dozens of pointy teeth penetrated his neck. His throat was torn open, and the ripped off flesh was swiftly devoured. Tobias quickly suppressed the Taxxon's instincts to continue eating and instead demorphed. He spat out the blood that was still in his mouth onto his arm. He was used to raw meat as a hawk, but a human's tastebuds were entirely different.
Tobias knelt down by Cromwell's unmoving body. The noble's eyes were sightless, his expression was locked into stark terror. Two fingers on the wrist and what was left of the neck revealed no pulse or other signs of life. The bite marks on his neck were conspicuous, doubly so with the missing chunks of flesh, but he doubted that they would be able to properly autopsy his body.
He also noticed that Cromwell had a silver ring with a dark purple square gem on one of his fingers. Since the man was otherwise plainly dressed, the ring looked significant. Tobias debated taking it with him as proof for killing Cromwell, but he realized that it would be hard enough to fly back to Newcastle without trying to keep a ring on his talons. Plus, leaving the man intact aside from the messy crater in his neck would hopefully stir more confusion and fear than anger out of the Reconquista's commanding officers.
"I can't believe that actually worked," Tobias said aloud. As quietly as he could, he dragged the body fully into the room and shut the door. His flimsy teenaged body struggled with the task, and it left an unfortunate trail of evidence from the doorway. Tobias accepted the loss. He couldn't hear any shouts of alarm, so by the time the body was found, he'd be long gone. And as for the best way to escape, he quickly realized that what he had thought to be windows letting in light were actually hinged portholes. They were small, not wide enough for anything bigger than a large bird, but that was all he needed.
Minutes later, a red-tailed hawk was coasting on the thermals, smug about a job well done.
"There you are, Tobias!"
Tobias nodded as he slipped out of the crowd to where Louise and Wardes were sipping drinks. Elsewhere in the grand room soldiers were drinking, chatting, and laughing, as if they weren't terrified of their imminent deaths.
"Don't just nod like you didn't worry me!" Louise snapped at him. "Prince Wales had to be the one to tell me that you decided to go for a walk to clear your head, and that was hours ago! You couldn't have at least told me that you were leaving yourself instead of sending a prince as your messenger? There's only so rude you can be!"
"Sorry. You looked distracted and I didn't want to disturb you. I also needed to clear my head and didn't feel like talking. I'll try not to worry you next time."
Louise blinked in surprise. Tobias's face didn't display much emotion, but his eyes were weary, and his tone was contrite. She had expected him to be argumentative and defiant, but not this.
"Yes. Good," she said uncertainly, unsure how to respond to his defeated aura. Tobias would go so far as to think she looked concerned.
"Did Prince Wales say something that upset you?" Wardes cut in.
Tobias turned his head to look at Wardes directly. "I told him that his idea of dying in glory was stupid."
"Tobias!" Louise sounded both scandalized and embarrassed. "It's bad enough that you had him play messenger, but you insulted him?!"
"How did he take it?" Wardes asked curiously.
Tobias shrugged. "He disagreed. We understand each other, but we can't agree."
"Don't get into the habit of insulting royalty," Louise lectured him. Then, wincing, she added, "Any more than you already do."
"Is there a story there?" Wardes asked.
Louise looked at Tobias, who stared back at her blankly. "Not important," Louise decided to say. "Wardes, you were going to say something before Tobias appeared?"
Tobias pretended not to notice how the Viscount's smile tightened. "I wished to invite you to a late-night stroll, my dear Louise," he said.
"A stroll?" Louise echoed.
"Is that safe?" Tobias asked.
"Prince Wales has said that they have seen no signs that the Reconquista would attack tonight," Wardes replied. "That is why the soldiers are willing to lower their guard to enjoy this celebration, and why we were asked to stay the night. I trust in the prince's judgement."
Tobias nodded easily at the solid logic.
"So, what do you say, my dear Louise?" Wardes asked.
"I would love to," Louise said in a small voice. Neither of her male companions mentioned how she was clearly blushing from the invitation.
"I hope you don't mind if I pull Louise aside, Tobias," said Wardes. "I hadn't anticipated when you would return, and I wanted a private moment with my fiancée."
Tobias stared at the Viscount, his eyes squinting slightly before relaxing. "You're a better guard than I am, so it should be fine," the boy acquiesced. "I'll stay here, I guess…"
Louise could see that Tobias didn't seem pleased with being abandoned to the crowd, so she tried to offer her own advice, "Try not to insult anyone important while we're gone."
"No promises," Tobias deadpanned.
"The stars are beautiful, aren't they?" Wardes asked as he looked up at the sky.
"They are," Louise agreed.
The moon shone bright overhead, and the scattering of clouds did not detract from the blanket of stars that covered the expanse of the night sky.
"Looking up, I can see that we are just one small speck in the grand universe," Wardes said softly. "Those stars have been there since before the time of the Founder. What are our lifetimes compared to theirs? And yet, doesn't that make every moment we have even more precious, since they are so few?"
"I never you took you for a philosopher, Viscount Wardes," Louise said respectfully.
"Hardly!" Wardes said with a chuckle. "I suppose I merely have a different outlook on life than most nobles. I had to work hard to get where I am today. My parents died young, so I'm well aware that every joy, every moment, comes at a cost."
He turned to Louise. "That is why I want to take advantage of this moment to do something I have been longing to do for years." He knelt down on one knee and pulled a small box from his breast pocket.
Louise froze as she recognized what he was doing.
The moonlight fell perfectly on Wardes's silver hair, making it shine like the moon itself.
"Louise Francoise le Blanc de la Valliere, I know we have been engaged for many years, but tonight I ask, will you be my bride, here and now?"
"Viscount Wardes, I—I," Louise stammered as she tried to collect her thoughts. "This is so sudden. We're on duty—I haven't even graduated!"
"I suppose it is a bit sudden," Wardes acknowledged. "But the time we've spent together these past few days have moved me, and seeing the state of Albion made me realize how fragile life can be. So, I ask again, Louise de la Valliere, will you do me the honor of marrying me?"
"I—I, I…"
Louise closed her eyes.
"I can't."
A gentle breeze rustled their hair and clothes.
"You can't?" Wardes echoed, his voice cracking in disbelief.
"I care about you, Wardes, I do," Louise said softly. She looked into his eyes with the utmost sincerity. "But I'm not the sort of the mage I want to be yet. I'm not the woman I want to be yet. And with all that's going on… I'm sorry, but I can't accept your proposal right now."
The air itself stilled as the two stood in silence.
"My timing was rather ill of me," Wardes said in self-depreciation. "I suppose I called you out here for nothing, Prince Wales."
"Think nothing of it," the prince replied, stepping out from behind a stone wall. "It was a magical moment to observe."
"Prince Wales!" Louise squeak was ripe with embarrassment. "What are you doing here? I mean, you have full right to be here, it is your territory, but—"
Wales held up a hand to forestall her stammering. "Viscount Wardes told me of his intentions to propose to you tonight," he explained. "I was here to serve as an officiary if you accepted."
Louise looked absolutely mortified. "I wasted your highness's time—"
"Not at all," the prince interrupted. "Rather, I apologize for bearing audience to your private moment. Still, it was heartwarming to see."
"It's a shame," said Wardes as he stepped towards the prince with his arm outstretched. "I would have hoped you would see us wed, but this appears to be the last night we will see each other."
"It appears so," said the prince, reaching out to meet his hand.
"Goodbye, Prince Wales."
Louise jumped as the sound of steel meeting steel pierced into the night. She looked in shock as she saw Wardes crossing blades with Prince Wales. Both swords were drawn diagonally upwards, meeting in front of the prince's torso, showing who had been the faster draw. But while Prince Wales looked calm and disappointed, Wardes's expression was twisted with anger and surprise.
"You are a talented liar, Viscount Wardes," Prince Wales said. There was a strain in his voice as he struggled to keep the older man's blade away from his body, but that didn't diminish the authority he carried as he spoke. "Even with your flair for dramatics, I wouldn't have seen your betrayal coming if I hadn't been warned in advance."
The Viscount leapt back as the clearing was quickly surrounded by two dozen Royalist knights. "Warned? How could anyone have warned you?" Wardes demanded to know.
{Louise, I need you to step away from the traitor.}
"Surrender, Viscount Wardes," Prince Wales declared, not bothering to answer the question. "You're outnumbered and surrounded."
Wardes surveyed his current situation. The ring of knights was spaced in a way that would make it hard for him to escape, even if he killed some along the way. The prince was close and wasn't strong enough to fully repel him on his own. And his precious Louise was still staring at him, shell-shocked.
{Louise, move!}
"Ubiquitous Division!" Wardes chanted. Then…
Wardes chanted, "Wind Needle!" as he charged for Prince Wales, his sword-wand swirling with the spell.
Wardes chanted, "Flight!" and soared upwards, whistling for his griffon.
Wardes chanted, "Celerity!" as he blurred towards Louise with an arm outstretched.
The knights were caught off guard by the sudden triplication of Wardes. Prince Wales was barely able to deflect a stab to his heart, the blow instead grazing his bicep, the blade ripping through cloth and skin with ease thanks to the spell placed on it. Four talented windmages flew up to confront the Wardes that escaped into the sky, with other mages firing spells to hinder his escape. The final Wardes dashed towards Louise with one arm outstretched, his speed greatly magnified by the spell he had cast. Louise was still frozen in shock and hadn't moved to safety. There wasn't enough time for any of the Royalists to intercept him.
That Wardes suddenly faltered midstride, before screaming in agony and collapsing to the ground. The Wardes in the sky suddenly lost focus, which resulted in multiple spells hitting their mark and forcing the duplicate to explode with a loud pop. The Wardes fighting the prince lost control of its Wind Needle spell, which allowed the prince to press his advantage and stab the Wardes in the lung. It also disappeared with a pop.
The Royalists were once again surprised by the shift in dynamics, but they recovered quickly. After only a moment's hesitation, they moved to surround the remaining Viscount that was writhing on the ground.
"I assume this is your doing?" Prince Wales asked as he watched the squirming man impassively.
"Yes."
Tobias stepped out from where he had been hidden in the shadows with the Royalists. His voice was tense, and his face showed a rare grimace. Reliving the pain and torture he had experienced in his teenaged years was very distracting when trying to walk and pay attention to his surroundings. It was like trying act normal while every fiber of his body was burning in an invisible, endless blaze.
Tobias sagged as he released his concentration. Wardes's flailing slowed and his screams fell to pained choking.
"Secure him," Prince Wales ordered.
By the time Viscount Wardes was aware of his surroundings, he was trapped on his knees with a man holding each of his arms. His gaze swiveled to Louise, who was looking at him with horror, disbelief, and anger as she slowly stepped towards him. "My dear Louise," he said longingly.
Slap
Tobias blinked.
The royalists blinked.
Even Wardes blinked in shock as Louise stared down at him with cold eyes. "My dear L—"
Slap
Louise slapped him again, hard enough to make his neck snap to the side.
"I am not your 'dear'," Louise hissed venomously. "All this time I trusted you! And you were using me to get close to Prince Wales and kill him? Why Wardes? What in the Founder possessed you to do this? Was all this posturing, this proposal, just a part of your stupid plan?"
"The Prince wasn't his target," Tobias spoke up, coming alongside Louise. "This snake had more ambition than loyalty. He felt like he was owed you, and the Reconquista would fulfil his dreams."
"You understand nothing, boy!" Wardes spat. "Do you know how much I've suffered because of that family of arrogant fools!"
"You're the arrogant fool causing all the suffering here," Tobias deadpanned.
"You ignorant—"
Slap
"Why, Wardes, why?" Louise asked, her voice strained to the point that the words came out like a harsh whisper.
"Because you are mine!" Wardes snapped.
There it was. That greedy expression. That selfish desire. That arrogant expectation. Tobias had been waiting for Wardes to fully drop his mask, and he wasn't surprised by what he saw.
"The royals are selfish bastards who lord over anyone with 'lesser blood'! I'm a square class wind mage, captain of the Griffon Knights, and all they gave me was the title of Viscount! Not even a proper Count! You, Louise, have been scorned by everyone. Even your own family thinks you're a failure! I was the one to see your value. I am the only one who knows what you are truly capable of. You are nothing without me!"
Louise's expression was a complex mix of anger, disgust, confusion, and uncertainty. She didn't seem to know how to respond to Wardes's ravings.
Tobias could see the threads of Wardes twisted logic. The man had been wronged by the system and viewed his actions as taking what was his due. It wasn't betrayal so much as retribution.
"You complain about being unfairly treated for being a lesser blood noble, but you had no issues insulting me for being a commoner," Tobias stated in a dry monotone. "Your lack of self-awareness and personal accountability reminded me of someone I once worked with. He was greedy, made some mistakes, and blamed everyone but himself for his problems. The biggest difference was that person was a boy less than half your age. You want to know what we did with him?"
Wardes remained defiantly silent, but Tobias didn't actually care for his opinion. "We exiled him to a small island where he could live out the rest of his miserable years where he wouldn't be able to hurt anyone. But the idiot didn't the point and came back for revenge. So, we had to make sure he never returned ever again." Tobias gave Wardes a hard look. "Unlike him, you don't have the excuse of teenaged stupidity. You're just an embarrassment."
"You don't know the forces that you're dealing with, boy!" Wardes hissed.
"The Reconquista? I've seen worse. Killed worse."
"You will doom all of Halkegenia! The Reconquista are needed to unite humanity and retake the Holy Land! Of all people, how can you be so ignorant? You're supposed to be the Gandalfr!"
Tobias froze.
"Gandalfr?" Louise echoed. "Didn't that old sword mention something about that?"
"How do you know that word?" Tobias asked Wardes. While the viscount's words sounded like the ravings of a madman, there was something off that raised alarms in Tobias's mind. "I've only heard it at the Vault, and you weren't there. Neither was Fouquet."
"Only the Reconquista has the knowledge of the Void," Wardes said smugly. "The royals who claim to follow the Founder's Will know nothing of the Void or the calamity that will befall Halkegenia! They royalists call us traitors, but it will be the Reconquista who will be your salvation! It is my destiny to lead humanity into this new era, and Louise will be at my side! You, as the Gandalfr, can either join us or be swept aside like the rest!"
Tobias stared blankly at Wardes. He slowly swiveled his head to Louise, and then turned to Prince Wales and the other royalists, who were watching the proceedings with confused expressions. "Anyone understand what he's raving about?" Tobias asked.
"The Gandalfr is a figure related to the Founder, but that's all I can recall," Prince Wales said.
"See? You know nothing! Unless you join me, Louise, you will die! You, and everyone you care about!"
"And I'm guessing you won't tell us anything more unless we agree to your demands?" While Tobias phrased it like a question, there was only certainty in his tone.
"Exactly," Wardes declared. "You think you have the advantage because you captured me? All of you will be dead by tomorrow! You cannot move against the hands of Fate!"
"You're insane," Louise said in disgust.
"I've cheated fate, time, and death," Tobias said in a bored tone. "At this point I don't care what the universe throws at me. With Cromwell dead, the Reconquista are going to lose a lot of momentum. If anyone else tries to harm Louise," he leaned in close and hissed, "I'll deal with them."
"Take him away," Wales ordered. The still-raging Wardes was hoisted up and dragged towards the fortress. "And prepare The Eagle for departure. The Reconquista may still attack at any moment. We must get our guests to safety."
"One moment, please. Before you take him away," Louise requested.
The soldiers looked to Prince Wales, who gave them a nod.
"Wardes, you said that I am nothing without you," the girl said. "I don't know if you are blind, deaf, or stupid, but I have been improving myself without your help. I don't need to be treated like a delicate pet. One day I will get the respect of everyone, and I won't murder and backstab to get there."
"Without me you'll never know the potential you have!" Wardes retorted. "Do you even know what your familiar runes signify?"
"The runes are the mark of a familiar pact," Louise said as if it was obvious.
"Those runes are a lot more than that," Wardes insisted.
"So, I should have you released so you can tell me?" Louise questioned him in open disbelief.
"You'll never know otherwise," Wardes said smugly.
Tobias wasn't sure why Wardes thought being a know-it-all prick was the smartest tactic. Regardless, it was certainly satisfying that Louise tsked and turned away from her ex-fiancé. "I have nothing else to say to that snake," she declared.
Prince Wales nodded to the guards who were holding the viscount, who know struggled to escape their grasp.
"You'll regret this, Louise!" Wardes shouted as he was dragged away. "It is my destiny to unite Halkegenia and reclaim the Holy Land! You'll never realize your destiny without me! You need me!"
Tobias watched impassively as the traitor was dragged away. The human familiar then turned to Louise, whose knuckles were white as her nails dug deep into her palms. He was surprised they weren't bleeding. Tears silently ran down her cheeks as she kept her head low. Her pink hair formed a curtain to shield her face from prying eyes.
Tobias pointedly turned his head away from her. "You did well," he stated.
"I froze," Louise said in a choked voice. "He was right there. I heard you, but my mind, my body… I couldn't believe it. I couldn't believe that he would ever…"
"You could have slapped him again."
The offhand comment got a strangled laugh out of Louise, however brief. "I would've never thought about slapping my fiancé before today," she admitted. "I was angry."
"Do you feel better now?"
"A little."
"Violence can be cathartic. I figured you were the type."
Louise kicked his shins. Hard. Tobias winced and took a step back, but he was relieved by her reaction.
"How long did you know he was a traitor?"
"I suspected it the first night, but I didn't get any proof until he I interrogated Fouquet last night."
"Fouquet was here?!" Louise exclaimed. "He—she, should be in prison!"
"Somehow Wardes was able to break her out of jail before we left. He apparently was blackmailing her, so she didn't mind turning him in as long as he died."
"They will kill him."
"Yeah."
"That's what traitors like him deserve."
"Yeah."
"That's why you were gone for hours?"
"…not exactly. I talked to Wales—"
"Prince Wales—"
"Prince Wales," Tobias amended. "I asked him to keep an eye on Wardes while I went to check on something. When I got back, he told me that Wardes had mentioned proposing to you, so Prince Wales had him hold off on the proposal until later tonight. That gave me enough to time to return and coordinate his capture."
Louise silently wiped the tears from her face. "You really are talented at this cloak and dagger business, aren't you?"
Tobias shrugged.
"Speaking of, what's this about Cromwell being dead?" Louise gave her familiar a pointed look.
Tobias expressed a rare flicker of surprise before replying, "…News just arrived tonight that Cromwell's throat was ripped out by a monster."
The disbelief on Louise's face did not bode well for her familiar.
Chapter 13.5: Sheffield's Discovery
A Canon Omake
"Miss Sheffield?"
"What?" the woman snapped.
The poor sailor's teeth were chattering as he said, "His Excellency did not appear for breakfast this morning, nor has he come out to give orders. It's almost time for us to depart to Newcastle."
"And you wish for me to check on him."
"Well, you are his secretary. Pardon me if I presumed."
"I will see to him."
Sheffield didn't pay the man any more mind. It was bad enough that she had to play secretary to this incompetent fanatic, she didn't want to deal with his brainless follower either. If her master hadn't ordered her to remain…
The woman shook her head. There was no point in thinking of what ifs. Her orders were to serve as Cromwell's secretary. More importantly, she was to whisper in his ear all the plans that her master wanted his puppet to fulfil. Reclaim the Holy Land? Ha! There was a difference between starting a civil war and conquering a weakened country compared to fighting elves. Still, with the plans of Sheffield's master, it would happen someday.
Sheffield swung a pendant over the lock of the door. Without carrying one of the artifacts that carried permission, such as the Ring of Andvari, no one could open the door. A bit of extra security that only she and Cromwell knew about. While Sheffield believed that the crew of the flagship were loyal, to the cause if not Cromwell himself, she wanted to ensure that the Reconquista leader survived for as long as her master wanted. She was quite proud of herself for coming up with such a simple yet flawless security system.
Sheffield's pleasant daydreams were shattered when she opened the door to Cromwell's private suite. The foul and bitter tang of blood assaulted Sheffield's nose the second the door cracked open. Thinking quickly, she stepped inside and slammed the door shut behind herself. She stepped forward in measured stride. One hand slipped a bracelet out from her detached sleeve. The advantage of her scandalous outfit was that no one expected her to be able to have a variety of jewelry hidden literally up her sleeve. With the one hand adorned with a bracelet, she pressed forward.
The odor was stronger from the office room. She opened the door slowly, ready to activate any of her countermeasures in case of an ambush. The sight sent a shiver down her spine. The body of the late Oliver Cromwell greeted her. Eyes wide with shock stared back at her, his mouth open with dried blood caking the inside and splattered against his chin. Below the chin…
Sheffield stilled as she examined what had to be the killing injury. The woman had seen and done some grizzly things during her years of service. It was inevitable; some people just couldn't take a hint. But this was a unique type of gore. Cromwell's throat looked like it had been carved out with dozens of miniature steak knives, and a chunk of his throat was entirely missing.
"By the damned firstborn, we needed him as a figurehead," she cursed.
It was then that she noticed that Crowell still had the Ring of Andvari resting on his finger. Whoever had killed Cromwell had dragged his body away from the door to close it but hadn't bothered to loot his body for a trophy. Unusual, for a typical assassin.
She looked around the room for anything else out of the ordinary. His books were in their usual place, and there was no footprints or signs of a scuffle. The was a splatter of dried blood further inside, but she doubted it could belong to anyone besides Cromwell. Perhaps it had dripped off the murder weapon.
The woman noticed her hair sway and looked towards an open porthole. That wasn't too unusual, except it was the only one open, and Cromwell wasn't likely to open portholes at night unless he felt like getting a draft of fresh air. But it wasn't the porthole by his desk, and it appeared that he had died upon entering the room. With the way the suite was designed, nothing should have been able to open the suite door without stealing the ring from his body.
A quick search of the bedroom didn't provide any answers either. The chamber pot had been used at some point in the night, that much was certain, but there were no irregularities she could detect, either mundane or magical.
There was no mage that could have broken in and out this room without detection.
There was no familiar that could fit through a porthole and do this type of damage.
Something wasn't adding up.
It was time to contact her master.
At least with the Ring of Andvari in her possession, their plans could be salvaged.
So... to those who were expecting an easy assassination, it was pretty easy. Cromwell's defenses were designed for mages, not bugs, and the guy isn't even a good mage. He's a barely line-class mage who's been coasting by on OP item support to inflate his threat level. However, Tobias is not genre savvy, so he didn't get the true prize.
At least Wales lives to fight another day! And Wardes was captured! The viscount basically thinks he's Moses. For reasons. Does it make sense? No... but fanatic egomaniacs rarely are. His currently-only-partially-revealed backstory is tragic... but that doesn't excuse his actions in the slightest.
This ends up causing a lot more timeline divergences than I expected when I was going through initial drafts. Some ideas I had included: a dramatic escape by Tobias diving off Albion with Louise and morphing to save them. Tobias finally picking up a weapon to stab Wardes. Tobias doing a torture session on Wardes. Tobias assassinating Cromwell by venomous snake, Hork-Bajir, or Andalite morph. Tobias using thought-speak to cause chaos on the ship. Tobias taking the Ring with him as a trophy.
What I settled on was what I thought to be the most sensible course of action. Tobias assassinates by simple ambush. KISS (Keep It Simple Stupid). Tobias leaves as little tracks as possible to leave delayed confusion. Tobias coordinates with Wardes behind the scenes to apprehend Wardes. Wardes reveals 70% of his mindset with minimal prompting. Louise's suspension of disbelief has been stretched too far.
That's it for the Albion Arc. Technically we've got a meeting with Henrietta and all, but that'll be bundled into the next arc. Which will be... well, I'll let you guess. It won't be easy due to all the timeline shakeups. Remember, reviews are food for a writer's soul!