Shade Emblem: Hunger Eternal Part Eight [Fire Emblem: Three Houses]
The boy went by the name of Ashe, and was Lord Lonato's adopted son. He was determine to help, even though his House would be participating in a different mission. The knowledge he had of the terrain and of the castle was invaluable however; without knowing the location, all battles were destined to fail.
Even while knowing the location, battles tended to fail all the same if the enemy knew what you were up to.
There were wild game paths that the official maps wouldn't show, which changed on the season, and were nature's highways for those who knew how to utilize them.
One such path could see a small enough group close to the fortress itself; it would require rushing on the Magdred road for a while, then take a detour through some forest ruins. My path set and my provisions secured, I got a horse on the cheap from one of the monastery's vendors, and with a quick word of warning to Jeralt that I was off to get some special supplies from a spice vendor that hadn't made it to the monastery due to road troubles, I was off with an extra sturdy piece of rope and a hook attached to one end -to better pull the cart out of trouble.
I had departed early enough in the morning with the promise to return for lunch. It was a promise I was going to break, but Byleth had improved in cooking, so I set her up as the fall-woman to cook in my stead. I was sure she'd manage.
The horse beneath me neighed, spurred on. The noise in my ears was that of my heart, which drummed so quick, and painfully, that it was hard to just keep on breathing.
The pain I felt, it wasn't real. It was the pain of a hundred battles; of a thousand dead; it was a false pain, a memory of pain that refused to yield. The two iron spears strapped to the horse's side were sharp, and deadly in the hands of a skilled master. They felt like toys meant for children in my own hands, or like toothpicks.
The knights of Seiros in charge of sieging the castle were professionals. They were excellent, well-armed men and women whose dream in life was to serve their faith till their dying breath. Siege warfare wasn't forgiving, however. As long as those within the walls held on to food and ways to get more in, they could hold on indefinitely.
The assaulters could -and some had- led valiant charges across the moat by filling it up with dirt and bringing ladders to the walls, but they had been rebuked time and time again. Some of the dead had been recovered, but others had been left there, too close to the walls to be recovered without losing more men to the operation.
I dismounted from my horse once I got close enough to the castle. Lord Lonato was rebelling against the church; he had no army backing him, just a militia and his own house retinue. It was madness to attempt as much without at least the backing of a nation half the size of Fodlan, or even more.
He must have known such a thing, and yet, he still chose to fight. He would still die. That much was unquestionable. The archbishop had ordered it so, and her fanatics would obey her unquestionably. It felt bitter to my tongue; how many orders had we too obeyed unquestionably?
But humans killing humans, that was the reality of the world. It was wrong, it should not happen, but it happened all the same.
The knights had patrols both for the threats coming from the castle and from outside; the people really loved their gentle lord, and often had to be pushed away by the knights themselves, when they came to protest the situation.
However, I understood that their protesting was simply a distraction; the truth was that while some patrols were distracted, a few men and women slipped past to join those within the castle as reinforcements, or smuggling out the wounded that needed treatment elsewhere.
The knights were expecting an easy victory; the distractions happened as the night settled, and barring the fires and the torches, or the moon and the stars, there was little light to see past one's arm.
Helped by the night, I stayed low and moved with my Agarthan mask slipped on my face. The darkness, to me, took hues of light green. The dagger I wielded of Agarthan make could puncture kevlar; the knights' armor would fold if struck, but I didn't wish to add their deaths to the count. Not yet. Not if I could avoid it.
I just wanted a word with Lonato.
Getting into the castle required a bit more imagination than I would have liked. The siege during the night was stopped, but it didn't mean that the guards would simply stop their patrols. However there was one thing every castle worth its salt had; bathrooms. And those bathrooms needed a place to dump their sewage.
The moat was filled with stagnant water, which had for the most part been slushed out by the dirt, making it a muddy terrain no sane man would ever wish to cross. I didn't care about that; I cared about one thing only.
I was a man of determined determination, and my climbing up a wall smeared with human waste proved it, using the roped hook as a makeshift path. By the time I reached the top of the wall, my breathing was even, and the enemy had yet to notice.
Right over my head, the circular hole of a thankfully empty privy awaited. I slammed my right fist against the wooden surface, and the shattering noise it made echoed through. The telltale sound of armored knights rushing for the noise was music to my ears. They arrived late, as by the time they stepped inside the bathroom, I had already slipped out and down into the courtyard.
I had asked about the castle's layout with the excuse that, in case of a siege, it would be best to know where not to target spells in case there were innocent people within. My steps carried me through relatively clean halls on which I trudged mud, to the ever-increasing alarm of the guards that were looking for the likes of me.
They wouldn't find me.
"An assassin is in the castle! Protect Lord Lonato!" a guard yelled, and soon another joined the first in barking out words of warning. While they did that, I waited. The castle was in an uproar; guards checked every nook and cranny, opening cupboards and even sweeping through the servant quarters, looking for whatever manner of tell to identify a would-be assassin.
Sometimes, it really was as easy as stealing candy from babies.
"Have you found them yet?" Lord Lonato finally appeared in the main courtyard, having taken the time to don his armor and weapon.
"No, sir, they must be hiding somewhere-they came in through the privy," I overheard the guards speak, explaining their reasoning and thoughts. They reckoned a spy had managed to get in, and thus of course the main targets would be the lord himself, the mechanism for the gate and the drawbridge, or the food stockpiles.
Any of the three things would enable a siege to end faster, and force their surrender.
"Stay alert, men," he then spat to the side, "I would not put anything past that witch and her dogs!"
He moved then, heading for the battlements to check the situation with the knights still outside and laying siege. And yet, I waited. Assassinations required patience. I wasn't going to assassinate him, of course, but patience was a virtue of which I had in spades to give. At the same time, my excuses for being late in returning to the monastery would inevitably have to veer into my lazy nature.
I had taken a detour at an inn, and stayed there for the night. Aye, I'd go with that.
It took half an hour at least before the tense situation began to unwind, though the patrols remained doubled in the points of interest, and two guards stood ready by the broken privy, just in case someone else decided to climb that way.
I, most valiantly, kept waiting.
Assassinate the Fell Star? Sir-We're cavalry, not special operations. That's a death sentence-We-Yes, sir. We are the Spears of Agarth, but-I understand we haven't succeeded once in killing a Nabatean, but-but we've wounded so many-I know, sir. I know. There can't be a spy amidst my men, sir. They don't know the mission until it starts, I swear-It must be magic. Some manner of magic. We would have killed them last time if not for the timely arrival of reinforcements-we will. Yes, sir. I understand.
Finally, Lord Lonato stepped down from the top of the walls and began to walk back into the castle proper from the courtyard. That was when I began to move, slowly making my way behind him until he came to a halt in a hallway of his castle, a hand on the hilt of his blade.
"You reek," he said.
"I do," I answered. "The archbishop's troops will arrive by the month's end. The Thunderbrand will be with them."
He turned to look at me, and frowned. "Where did you get that armor?"
I was, after all, wearing a perfect replica of the castle guards' own armor. If you want to avoid being found during a search, after all, what better way than to join the searchers?
"The armory," I said.
"You are not with the witch?" he asked.
"No," I answered. "Your actions-there will be bloodshed, and there is little reason to them. Are you expecting reinforcements?"
"Why would I even deign to answer you?" Lord Lonato retorted.
"Because at the very least, impart some last words to Ashe," I mused. "I am doing this as a favor to him," I lied. "He can't understand why you'd go to such lengths. Such suicidal lengths."
The old man stared at me, his grip on his sword's hilt firm. "Rhea has desecrated the Goddess, and lied to the people of Fodlan-I will not tolerate this any longer. That is as much as I will tell you. Now leave, before I call the guards on you."
I sighed, and then quietly removed my helmet. He did not seem to recognize the mask, thus perhaps he was but a pawn. A pawn of a game he would never win.
Truly, my bleeding heart when it came to those destined to lose was, perhaps, simply reflecting the desperate wish for salvation when the ones who never won were my men and I.
"You got one thing right, about the Archbishop lying to the people of Fodlan..." I said, "But you got another one wrong. Rhea would never desecrate the Goddess, since, after all, I doubt there's anything left to desecrate to begin with," I added, flatly.
"What are you saying," Lord Lonato whispered, "What madness-"
"No madness, mere truth. Rhea hid the fact that the Goddess' was killed, and her body fashioned into the Sword of the Creator by her own killer-the petty, evil bandit known as Nemesis," my voice was calm, as if mentioning the weather. The old man had no reason to believe me, and perhaps he would come to ignore my words come the morning.
"But don't trust me on this, don't believe a single word I just said," I continued, lightly, "Send a messenger to the Archbishop, and tell her that in exchange for forgiveness, you'll cooperate in bringing me, someone who knows what she is, and what she lied about to the people of Fodlan-" I patted my chest, "To her. Her answer...it will be telling enough, Lord Lonato."
"Who are you?" the old man asked instead. "You cannot be one of Ashe's friends-who are you, in truth?"
"Someone who lost everyone once, Lord Lonato," I answered with a faint shrug of my shoulders, "seeing someone else heading for that same precipice, at the very least, I wish to offer a way out. And who knows, maybe in the future, you may just as well return the favor."
"You don't think I'll let you leave after what you just said-" he began, but I simply chuckled.
"Come on, old man," I said with a snicker, "I'm not locked in this castle with you. You are the one locked in here with me."
Lord Lonato didn't understand, but it was all right. He had never seen a man run as fast as I, nor did the guards have any hope of catching someone who didn't wish to be caught and could outrun them all, nimbly launching myself off the top of the walls with the only landing strategy being to hit the moat and then swim out of it.
I was going to need the mother of all warm baths by the time I got to the closest inn, but as the chaos of the castle was caught by the sieging knights, it was also too late for them to intercept my inevitable escape.
My people needed allies for the upcoming, trying days-and perhaps Rhea would be willing to hear Lord Lonato out, and knowing that whoever knew about her was out and about, she might just be willing to turn a blind eye to this 'heresy'. My people would be fine. I was the one who might be in hot waters with Jeralt.
But I reckoned the man owed me one for going off-script with Rhea's Tea party, so he'd man up and take the swing back.
My return to the monastery happened one extra day later. I had to find a bag filled with spices after all, and those didn't come cheap, nor easy to find. I considered adding a small bandit attack to spice my lie up a bit, and with that being said, I was out of the fire, and into the frying pan.
"Herbs, herbs are the soul of a dish," I said flatly, staring at the judgmental gaze of Jeralt's company. "You can't blame me for taking my time with this!"
The tough, veteran mercenaries simply grumbled and demanded double portions, and I gingerly obliged. A hearty meat and vegetable stew was going to be extremely fulfilling, especially considering the chill I was feeling within my soul.
Byleth arrived with the resolution of a woman that had nearly starved to death in my absence, and a bowl that she had made by herself. The size of the thing was easily that of a large tree trunk, carved and smoothed to resemble a bowl, though in truth it was perhaps better to call it a large wooden pot meant for big trees.
"I'm not doubling the portion of that thing, Smartyleth," I said with a smile, which doubled when I noticed the crestfallen expression on Byleth's own face, as the woman had indeed attempted to get a double jumbo-sized portion of stew.
It took a week before a messenger arrived under the flag of peace, bringing a message for the archbishop.
"It appears Lord Lonato is asking for forgiveness, as he was led astray by other heretics," the boy known as Ashe had apparently decided to come by and inform me of the situation. He must have been a thoughtful boy, because if I waited for Byleth to come do that, I would have probably waited forever, "the archbishop is considering it...I hope this can be solved without bloodshed."
"That would be the best solution," I answered. "There's some endemic problem with bandits in Fodlan... it's bad enough that killing those who are misguided seems like nothing more than a mistake, especially if they're willing to listen to reason."
Though, in the end, I still had to handle the unreasonable expectations of Byleth's stomach.
Twice as tough, as being cheated out of the mission meant that the Black Eagle House would have to do bandit hunting in order to clear the roads.
I'd need a new lie for the next time I ended up being late in returning to the monastery...
...maybe I could use the good old 'I got lost on the road of life'?
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