Vol.6, Ch.4, P.11
The twin blades glinted as Lise held them crosswise. And bending low, she pounced and vanished.
I jerked, reaching for my hilt. But ’twas needless. The blur that Lise became had shot elsewhere: namely, to a tree standing aside over a flower bed. Three-odd passūs away ’twas, yet in a blink did she gain it. And then her blades flourished asudden.
Twice the air whistled. Yet our ears were fooled, as the daggers were swung many more times still, that at that moment, nigh-on ten boughs snapped free from the tree. And as they fell, so did each of them separate further into cloven halves. The flowers below ruffled wildly as unto them poured the splash of wood and foliage. And when next I found Lise, already was she back to whence she’d pounced, with her blades returned to their sheathes as if nothing had happened aught.
I held back my gasp. What speed, what precision. Still…
“…Was that so necessary? I thought us done with tiffs and tantrums.”
That chiding was the Lord Hugo’s, despite the nervous sheen on his brow. ’Twould appear he took Lise’s to be some childish riot. Yet there was he mistaken. Lise—in beholding my levinblade, she’d understood my might at last. Thus in the name of fairness, she’d thought to return the favour and show me her own. A “just in case”, one might say, should things ever fall through and reconciliation be abandoned… and hence the both of us made to someday cross upon the battlefield.
Oh, did it irk me just to realise this. If there’s still any doubt about it, then I’ll state it plain: I detested this vixen. Naturally, the sentiment seemed mutual, for as things calmed down, ever did she keep an icy back turned my way.
♰
“Good my Lady,” Her Highness called from beside me. “Our men beyond the walls… might they come soon to our succour?” she asked, as though newly eased enough to remember that possibility.
’Twas a while now since Raakel and I had hid away the bodies, and got both parties sneaking again westwards through the gardens. Along the way, we’d been pondering our dead assailants—of how they distinctly bore the cloth of the Church—and what might we do to better miss the nets of their friends, especially after all that earlier noise.
“Yes, Yoná willing,” I answered the princess. “By now, they ought be apprised of our plight.”
“Very good,” she sighed, before looking aside and asking, “And what of yours, Jarl?”
To that, the hulking Nafílim chieftain glanced ahead to his daughter, who at present was leading the company. She nodded back to him. “The same, it is hoped,” he then answered.
’Twas but the scantest smattering of guards and attendants that’d been suffered to escort both parties here inside Merkulov. Our respective armies, for their parts, were encamped elsewhere outside the walls—more than ten mīllia away as a crow flies, as a matter of fact, with Londosius’ yonder west, and the Himmel’s to the south. This was by arrangement: neither host was to come any nearer, unless at the direst need.
Yet, what ought’ve supplied tranquility for the historic meeting had instead been turned to our bane, leaving the few of us within Merkulov to fend for ourselves as we eluded capture or worse.
Where in the world did these… these conspirators hide themselves? I kept wondering. The place’d been emptied of its pupils and magisters, hadn’t it? Not to mention our having inspected it inside-out beforehand for Her Highness’s security. And yet, here we are…
In any case, our immediate and remaining hope was as Alban and I have surmised: that each of our standbying forces would move on the Acadēmī̆a, both to strike open the blockade and deliver us from this accursed plight. But distant as they were, ’twould be long till such relief came. Nay, even then, as the jarl would next suggest, might we be scarce out of the woods…
“But this I ask you, Princess and Mareschal both,” said Alban. “Certain you are, or? That your ‘friends’ would not bear daggers for your backs when they come to ‘rescue’ you?”
“…I can only pray,” answered Her Highness, whilst I said naught. For what could I have said? A veritable bounty had been put on her head, bombs and zealots thrown her way in such numbers and secret preparations. That was the scale of the conspiracy on our hands. So would it not follow that these scheming men knew, as well, of our knights stationed afield? And supposing they did, might they have already infiltrated them, as well?
My thoughts turned then to those very knights. The newly reformed 3rd Order… all led by—
“…”
And there I ceased. Clouds darkened in my heart. Oh, were Rolf here with us. Too much there was to consider, too much to do. Nay, ’twas not that I pined for his help, only that I felt I could do better were he but here beside me.
‘…That would enrage Rolf, had he heard it…’
Those words of Lise’s. How they rang then in my mind. Enrage him? I thought. Nonsense. In my despite, however, I couldn’t help but sense doubt and fear growing inside me. Of how Rolf presently saw me, and thought of me, and felt of me.
Truth be told, I’d wondered—and perhaps hoped—if this space between us, this silent span of a year and a half, had done some good to close some of the wounds we shared. And if so, if he would then take up my proposal at the parley and return to Londosius at last. But he hadn’t done. And so did my heart now weep and hurt for it.
“Emilie-love,” called Raakel. “Ye farin’ all right there?”
We were at present couched in a shaded corner of the gardens, waiting for a scanning Lise to give the all-clear. In that meanwhile, my brooding and distress must’ve surfaced again for all to see. Were he here, Gerd would sooner’ve been the one to offer me those kind words, but nay. Here was Raakel: a warrior crass and brutal… and a friend yet capable of genuine concern.
“All right enough, yes. Thank you,” I said. “How about yourself?”
Our set-to with the enemy men a while ago… then, as ever, had Raakel been swift and ferocious. And that, to me, was precisely the rub: she’d given absolutely no quarter to that last enemy as he fled, veritably beheading him and smiting his lifeless body away like she’d done. He was a hostile, very true—but also a fellow Man. Had there indeed been any need for Raakel to go so far? To be so… merciless?
“Aye,” she answered me in her usual charisma. “As spotless as can be.”
…“Spotless”.
We were old friends by this point. Thus could I see that Raakel wasn’t as “spotless” as she let on. In a way—a very, very slight way—she didn’t quite seem so… herself. Ever as she broke a smile, I peered into her eyes, and espied buried therein some smoulder of an emotion that I could not guess.
Well, that’s hardly faultable, I supposed then. ’Twas our mission to fend for the acting sovereign of all Londosius, after all. In straits so dire, who wouldn’t want to keep a hand tight upon the hilt?
With that, I shook off the thought, sighed, and smiled back at Raakel. Although, that I would come to regret this at the last was far, far beyond me then to know.
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Notes
Mīlle
(Language: Latin; plural: mīllia) Shortening of mīlle passūs. A unit of measure used by the ancient Romans; known as the “Roman mile”, it spanned 1,000 passūs in length. 1 kilometre is equal to 0.6757 of a mīlle. A mīlle, therefore, can be roughly equated to 1 and a half kilometres.
Passus
(Language: Latin; plural: passūs) A unit of measure used by the ancient Romans, taken from the length of a pace (2 steps). 1 metre is equal to 0.6757 of a passus. A passus, therefore, can be roughly equated to 1 and a half metres.
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