“Best not to keep the men waiting,” the Strategist remarked casually, shuffling towards the door with a rhythmic clinking from his manacled feet.
Val stopped him roughly by the shoulder and spun him to face her. “This is no time for schemes. Your fate, and the fate of your Company, rests on what you say next.”
He rolled his eyes. “As I’ve told you repeatedly, I understand what is at stake. Do not think me so vain that I would put the future of the Elta’sahn Company at stake for some matter of personal pride.” His voice snapped harshly as he finished, betraying his clear aggravation. A pleasant smile spread across his face a moment later, and the anger evaporated. “My men will listen to me without question. You have nothing to fear.”
Val looked to Lia and me for a final time, then led the Strategist to the exit. I locked eyes with him as the doors opened and tapped my finger knowingly on the pommel of my sword; he disappeared out the door behind Valandra a moment later, seemingly unphased by the gesture. I gave Lia a gentle pat on the shoulder, and we walked out into the early morning light.
The smell of the ocean below us was strong on the cold morning breeze, nearly masking the scent of the blood and ash that covered much of the plaza after my rampage. At Val’s appearance on the steps of the statehouse, the noise of the crowd faded from hundreds of overlapping conversations to hushed whispers. Despite their fearless leader approaching them in chains, all eyes were on Val; her shield and armor flashing radiantly in the sunrise left no question as to who stood before them.
As opposed to the night before, there was no raucous cheering as the Strategist moved to the podium: it was impressively silent as he began to speak. “Good people of Attetsia, I come before you a repentant man. In your hour of need I offered you salvation, but it’s time now that I reveal the truth. You deserve that much.” I noticed a clear distinction in the reaction to his speech: members of the Unbound exchanged uncertain glances and low whispers of confusion, while the Company men all watched the Strategist with unwavering eyes, many with their hands on their weapons.
“Our march today was not to be for the greater good of the world; it was for the greater good of the Elta’sahn Company. Under the guise of a revolutionary force, I planned to use your lives, and the lives of those who would have died in the ensuing battle, as bartering chips in exchange for control of Attetsia.” The sincere regret with which he spoke surprised me, though his specific exclusions of the shadowed dealings with King Virram told me that, as always, every word and inflection was perfectly measured. “I took advantage of your civil unrest and gave you the tools to overthrow your Council. Not for your own good, but for mine, and for—”
A rock flew up out of the crowd and bounced off of the Strategist’s oversized hat. “My brother died during that coup, you bastard!” shouted a man from the front row. “This was all for your damn mercenary group?!” He pulled a short sword from his hip and took a step forward, but he was immediately knocked to the ground by a man in Company armor. A ripple ran through the crowd behind them as Unbound and Company men began to form tight clusters opposite one another. The two men at the foot of the stage squared off, each holding their weapons at the ready.
“ENOUGH!” The command boomed across the plaza as Val slammed her shield against the stage for emphasis. Both of the men in the skirmish froze, slowly turning their heads to look up at her, and the crowd followed suit. “There will be no bloodshed today. This conflict is over.”
The Strategist straightened his hat and cleared his throat. “I will go with the King’s Shield to Yoria, where I will face punishment for my crimes. For this cooperation, the members of the Elta’sahn Company present in the city will be allowed safe passage back to our fleet, on the condition that they never return to Attetsia.”
Val continued the explanation. “Every member of the Unbound is granted clemency for any actions taken during the coup. A new Council will be elected through a general election, taking into consideration your grievances that initially sparked this conflict. Any citizens displaced or otherwise adversely affected by the Company’s presence will be given monetary compensation by the Golden Throne, under my supervision.” The last detail took me by surprise; I had a difficult time believing that Virram would support the idea, but the promise of reparations made it much more likely that the Attetsian rebels would agree with our plan.
The Unbound soldier at the front of the crowd considered her points for a tense moment, then returned his weapon to his belt. “He belongs to us,” he shouted, pointing up at the Strategist. “We should be the ones to decide his fate, not Kaldan. He did this to us, not to you.”
“For the sake of Attetsia, he must stand trial,” Val responded diplomatically. “A full interrogation is the only way to reveal the true extent of his crimes, both committed and planned. While I plan to give a full account of what I have found here, it will not be enough proof to both punish him accordingly and appropriately aid the restoration of your home.” Her voice lost a bit of harshness. “I understand your desire for...immediate justice, but we must put aside our personal feelings for the sake of the greater good.”
“And what do you know of the greater good?!” There was a commotion at the center of the crowd as a new voice shouted out at us. Although I couldn’t make out the face of the man heading towards the stage, a garish orange hat in the same style as the Strategist’s was clearly visible through the gathering.
“I didn’t know he was going to be here,” the Strategist whispered angrily, looking back at us. “This complicates things.”
“Complicates things how?” I whispered back to him. “Who is he?”
His eyes took on a faraway quality as he sighed and shook his head. I looked back to the crowd and found that the hat had reached the front of the stage. The man beneath it was young, seeming at most in his early twenties, with platinum blonde hair that was styled in the same fashion as the Strategist’s ponytail and goatee. Apart from a belt of five daggers worn across his chest, the young man’s apparel was also a direct copy of the Strategist’s, albeit of a far inferior quality to the beautiful fabrics of the Company leader. His bright green eyes were full of fury as he pulled out a fencing saber and pointed it towards Val. “By order of First Tactician Jeremiah Eltann, you are to release this man at once!”
Val looked between the young man and the Strategist with a puzzled expression. “I cannot do that.”
“Jeremiah, please,” the Strategist said with a forced smile, “now is not the time—”
“Now is precisely the time!” Jeremiah interrupted forcefully. “It is clear your words can’t be taken at face value given your circumstances. You’ve been forced to agree with this plan against your will! There is no other explanation!” He looked to the men around him and pumped his fist vigorously in the air. “Men of the Elta’sahn Company! We can free our leader if we band together. Only then can we continue to carry out his will!”
I nearly laughed out loud at the proclamation. What a fantastic failure to read the situation. If this kid thinks he’s the next Strategist in the making, he’s got a rude awakening ahead of him.
His nearby allies made no move to assist him with the bold strategy, and instead exchanged unsure glances with each other. The lack of support only seemed to strengthen the First Tactician’s resolve. “I will show you all the strength of the Company myself,” he announced, taking a bold step towards the stage.
“If you really value your dear leader’s life, you’ll stop where you are, drop your weapons, and repent profusely,” I spoke down to him, stepping up to the edge of the platform. “Follow your orders, kid. This works best for everyone if you just go home alive, with your tail between your legs.” Judging by the range of annoyed and angry faces on the closest Company men, Jeremiah’s dramatic outbursts were a common occurrence.
“How dare you speak to me like that! You wouldn’t make such threats if you had any wits about you,” he spat. “Perhaps if you drop your weapons and repent, I’ll let
you keep your tongue. Primes willing.” He drew one of the daggers from his bandolier and flourished it with a well-practiced spin. “You’ll soon see for yourself why I’m called Eltann Quickblade.”
Oh, he even gave himself a nickname. I failed to fully hide my amusement, and a smirk crept across my face. “Think about what you’re doing, Jeremy. You’re threatening the King’s Shield; she’s the greatest fighter in the country.”
“The greatest behind the General, perhaps,” he retorted smugly. “I’ve trained with him for years; I could never lose to the likes of her, even with her divine shield.”
I felt a giddy rush of excitement as he fell perfectly into my trap, and I pulled the General’s belt out from behind my back and threw it to the stone plaza below. There was a loud chorus of gasps as both Unbound and Company men stepped back in shock. “You’re going to have to find a new teacher, Jerry. The General is no longer the greatest fighter in the country. He’s dead.”
Jeremiah stared at the belt in disbelief. The crowd around him continued to recede as he finally knelt down and reached for the swords, his hand trembling. “Liar,” he managed to squeak out between short, sharp breaths.
“It’s the truth,” the Strategist confirmed, seizing the opportunity I had created. “Jeremiah, if the Company is to survive, you must accept the terms and leave immediately. Take the belt to the Admiral, along with this message: Return to Last Cove and enact Sole Executor Two.” Jeremiah looked up to him with wide, fearful eyes. “Can I trust you with this?”
There was a long moment of silence as every eye in the plaza fell on the First Tactician. “Yes,” he replied weakly. “You can trust me.”
The Strategist looked almost fatherly as he smiled down to the young man. “Good. The Company will need your wisdom now more than ever.” He raised his voice to address the crowd once again. “Everything I did, I did for the good of my Company, as did the men under my command. You did what you did for the good of your country. Now, let us all do what is best, and end this conflict for good without further bloodshed.”
Val cleared her throat. “Men of the Company, return to your fleet. Empty the harbor by sundown, and never return to this place. Citizens of Attetsia, spread word throughout the city that the occupation has ended. When this man has been transferred into custody of the Golden Throne, I will return with aid to assist in restoring your city.” Her voice echoed over the hundreds of men gathered in the plaza, all standing silently before her. She snapped off a crisp salute. “Dismissed!”
Although none of the men were hers to command, they jumped into action at her dismissal and hastily began to disperse from the courtyard. Jeremiah remained motionless before us as he cradled the General’s bloody belt with the care of a parent holding their newborn child for the first time. His eyes scanned over its surface repeatedly, as if he believed there was some small detail he had missed that would make everything return to normalcy. After failing to find it for the hundredth time, his eyes suddenly snapped up to the stage. “I will not forget your face,” he promised me quietly. “This debt will be repaid.” He turned and walked away before I had a chance to respond, leaving us alone in the quiet plaza.
“It is time to leave,” Val said, motioning to the stairs. “With a tentative peace restored to Attetsia, we should return to our wagon and make for Yoria immediately.”
“Oh, sweet relief,” the Strategist sighed happily as he followed her down the steps, “you have a wagon. I was convinced we would be making the journey on foot.”
None of us engaged with his attempt at clever conversation, and our group quickly fell back into silence as we made our way out of the Council district. It was clear that the long night had started to take its toll on us from a quick glance at the faces of my companions; apart from myself, nobody had slept after our fight with the General, and the dark rings beneath Lia and the Strategist’s eyes were severely pronounced. Val’s face showed no outward signs of fatigue, as I had come to expect from her, but I found it difficult to believe she still had the unwavering strength she exuded.
Our walk through the streets of Attetsia was peaceful. Most roads were completely empty as we traveled back to Marin’s shop, and the ones that weren’t quickly made themselves so; every guard we encountered either rushed to the nearest possible exit as soon as we came into view, or pressed themselves up against the opposite buildings to allow us the widest berth possible. The mixture of fear and reverence on their faces repeatedly confirmed that both the King’s Shield and the Strategist were as famous as I had been told, and that the battle between them was a truly legendary event.
When Marin’s shop finally came into view, a second wagon was parked out front beside our own on the road. Before I had a chance to worry about who had arrived in our absence, a bright flash of red from within the new cart revealed Marin as she stacked and restacked small wooden crates. When the sound of our approaching footsteps reached her she looked up in alarm, then vaulted out of the back of her wagon and sprinted towards us. Val held up a hand before she could reach us, and Marin skidded to an abrupt stop.
“Good morning, my lady,” the Strategist said with a thick layer of false courtesy, “who might you—”
“No,” Val interrupted, shoving him roughly passed her sister. With a hand now gripped tightly around his elbow, she led him to our wagon without another word.
Marin turned to watch them for a brief moment before leaping forward and pulling us into a group hug. “I’m so glad you’re all safe,” she said with a relieved laugh. “I couldn’t sleep at all last night, I was so worried!”
Lia patted her back. “I’m glad you’re safe too, Marin.”
Marin withdrew her arms and spun to watch as Val pushed the Strategist into the back of our wagon. “So that’s him? That’s...the guy?”
“Yeah, that’s the guy,” I answered. “He’s the one behind all the awful things you’ve had to go through lately. We’re taking him back to Yoria so he can stand trial for everything he’s done.”
She growled at him under her breath. “Good. Serves him right.” The frown on her face suddenly dissolved into an excited smile. “So, when are we leaving?”
“Uhm…” I trailed off, looking to Lia for support. Finding her with the same confused expression that I wore, I continued. “We’re leaving for Yoria as soon as possible, but...are you, uhh, also going somewhere?”
“I’m going with you!” she answered energetically. “Like I said, I couldn’t sleep last night, so I packed up all of my stuff instead. It wasn’t hard; my entire stock has been sold out for days, so aside from a few personal items I barely had anything to pack at all!”
“But what about your shop?” Lia asked. “Wasn’t that the whole reason you stayed in Attetsia to begin with?”
Marin let out an exasperated sigh. “Attetsia is the worst! If I had known how awful everything would be before I moved down here, I would never have set up this shop in the first place!” She clapped her hands. “I’m moving back in with my parents in Yoria. If things are going to get better here, I’m sure somebody will want to buy my shop. It’s in a great neighborhood!” Her eyes widened with sudden surprise, and she spun away from us. “That reminds me, I have to go back and…” she trailed off as she walked away from us, still talking to herself as she went.
I vigorously rubbed my face as a wave of fatigue washed over me. “I’m not sure I’d have the energy to keep up with her on my best day.”
Lia laughed, nodding with agreement as she took my hand in hers. We stood together in the middle of the road and watched Marin skip circles around her older sister, pestering Val in an effort to gain her undivided attention. After everything we had gone through together, it was comforting to see Val’s steely face warmed by a genuine, loving smile.
“It’s really over, isn’t it?” Lia asked softly. “I know it’s only been a few days, but it feels like we started our trip here from Yoria months ago.”
“It’s really over,” I agreed. “We take one
last wagon ride, collect our reward from the King, and then…” I trailed off and looked down at my boots, “I’m not sure what comes next. I convinced myself so thoroughly that I’d never make it here. I didn’t bother to seriously consider the future, because I thought I’d lose it.”
“Well, you’d better start thinking about it soon. You owe me a lot of adventures,” she teased. “I’m thinking...somewhere far away.” She gave my hand a gentle squeeze as she pulled me forward, and we walked to our awaiting wagon together.
The future, huh? What do I even want for my future? I considered the idea for a moment, but the answer came to me immediately when I looked over to Lia’s smiling face. No. Not my future. Our future.
***
17. OUR FUTURE
The first two days of our trip back to Yoria passed me by in a haze. I was unconscious more often than not, asleep in the back of Marin’s wagon, only occasionally waking up to sate my abnormally powerful appetite. Lia sat on the driver’s bench beside Marin, but moved back into the small yet comfortable covered wagon whenever I woke up. My lack of energy worried her, but I found the experience greatly preferable to the last time my mana reserves had run dry: lying comatose in the Corell family basement for three days.
Our cart traveled closely behind Val’s, which had been mostly emptied to make adequate space for transporting the Strategist. His hands and feet had been rebound in heavier manacles for the trip, which further locked him in place via heavy steel loops built into the wagon’s frame. The cloth gag over his mouth had been likewise replaced with a leather half-mask that linked into his wrist guards. Based on his appearance alone, it would be easy to mistake the man for the most dangerous warrior ever taken prisoner, instead of the brilliant yet defenseless tactician he truly was.
A combination of cold, clear weather and empty roads made for quick travel across the countryside. After ensuring that nobody had followed us out of the city limits on our first morning of travel, I had fallen asleep almost immediately. My next memory came at sunset, when I awoke to find the outer walls of the city-state illuminated with a fading, orange light. Lia disembarked from the wagon and entered the guardhouse to open the gate, returning to us with a foul look on her face when we had passed through to the other side; apparently, the wall had remained abandoned during our stay in the city, including the corpses inside, which were two days further decomposed than when we had found them before.
Restart Again: Volume 2 Page 32
