fic - the faithful and the brave : 9 [novella]
Title: The Faithful and the Brave
Parth: 9
The Faithful and the Brave
Part 9
"Well, since it seems you already have the princess in hand, I guess you no longer require my assistance," Odin said, scratching his chin thoughtfully.
"Yes, the princess has been taken care of, but that's not the end of things," Tsuberov answered, glancing pointedly at the third man in his office.
He colored. The Cardinal was a powerful man, but so was Ralph Kurt of the Kurt Trading Company, and his days of being spoken to like some mere underling were long past. "They tricked us with their clever facsimile once. They will not be so lucky a second time."
"Except this is not your second attempt to capture the Stone. It has eluded your grasp too many times now, my dear Ralph, to be considered anything other than a failure."
Kurt grit his teeth. "Your Grace, this time I will personally oversee the retrieval of the Stone. It will be in your hands before the week is out."
"I have no reason to believe that one last attempt from you will end any differently than any of your previous ventures. Perhaps Odin Lowe here can do a better job."
"A common mercenary?"
Tsuberov smiled grimly at him. "What do you think you are, Mr. Kurt?" He turned to Odin. "Well?"
Odin considered his answer carefully. "I think I am not currently in a position to take on another job. I was hired to see to the princess. This Stone, or whatever it is you're seeking, is not my concern."
"Ah, yes. Well, the princess may be in my custody, but I'm afraid there are still some loose ends to be tied up. I'm certain Duke Treize would appreciate your attention to detail."
"Oh?"
"I hear that you also ran into trouble in getting your own task done, yes? And as a result, your young rebel underlings are out and about meddling in things they ought not to be meddling in."
"Are they?" Odin asked flatly.
"They are the ones that thwarted Mr. Kurt's efforts. And in fact, Mr. Kurt informs me that they may have obtained evidence of our little plots here. They know too much. They are a variable that needs to be eliminated before they become more than a nuisance. Don't you agree?"
Odin frowned. It seemed the boys just couldn't leave well enough alone. He was sufficiently familiar with them to know that they would indeed become more than a nuisance, if they chose to get involved. He didn't tolerate slackers on his team. Nor did he enjoy variables. If they were pursuing this business with the Stone, then it wouldn't be long until they sniffed out the Cardinal's other shady affairs, which would only lead back to Odin's own employer of the moment. He sighed, thinking he had best not report back to the Duke with more tales of trouble beyond the scope of his commission. "I don't enjoy cleaning up other people's messes, but it seems you've left me no choice."
Kurt bristled. "If you'd had better control of your men in the first place..."
"You're in no position to criticize," the Cardinal observed mildly. "See to it, Odin."
The mercenary recognized a dismissal when he heard one and departed gladly, his mind already turning over schemes.
"You, on the other hand, Mr. Kurt," Tsuberov continued. "I'm afraid I still have business with you."
Kurt bowed. "Your Grace. The Stone shall be yours."
"It shall indeed, though not by your hands."
"But --"
"The business I refer to," Tsuberov said, standing slowly from his chair and advancing on Kurt. "...is the small matter of the punishment for your failure."
The chill of a paralyzing dread crept through Ralph Kurt's body with each step the Cardinal took, but it barely had time to make itself at home.
It had been easy enough to secure passage at the port to Warjilis. There were plenty of ships that were more than happy to pick up a little extra gil carrying passengers with their cargo. To keep things simple, they thanked their chocobos for their service and left them in the hands of the Sweepers, to be used or released as the guild saw fit.
The journey of a few days was uneventful. The seas were typically choppy, as they were in this area, but the weather had remained mostly fair. When they made port, they split up to refresh their supplies and check the latest word on the streets. Ports were always filled with talk.
Heero paid a visit to the church, entering to offer a prayer to the saints at an altar conveniently close to a trio of idle church personnel, and though they did gossip softly, they spoke of nothing of great consequence. He stood to leave, pausing for a moment to adjust the pack on his back near two novices, but their private chuckles were more irrelevant than the last.
He emerged into the bright noontime sun and had his vision dazzled for a moment. It lasted longer than he expected, but then he realized the aftereffect was the light glistening brightly off a long fall of frost-blond hair bound neatly back with a blue tie. Heero blinked numbly in recognition before moving casually to the man's side. "Zechs."
Zechs turned without surprise from the statue he had ostensibly been studying. "Heero."
"What are you doing here?" It was not the only question Heero had it in his mind to ask, but it was the first to spring forth into the air. It seemed too large a coincidence for their meeting to be an accident, and it set him on edge.
"You meddle in things beyond your concern, Heero," Zechs said conversationally.
Heero's eyes narrowed. "What would you know of what concerns me?"
"Your concerns have always been uncommon," Zechs acknowledged with a sardonic twist of his lips. "You should keep them that way. Your involvement in this matter with the princess is ill-advised."
"The princess has been safely delivered to her destination," he answered neutrally, unwilling to give away their plans in case Zechs was not nearly as well-informed as he seemed.
"And would that that were the end of things," Zechs sighed. "But you know better than that. You never much cared for politics, Heero. Don't start now."
Heero spent a moment trying to figure out whether that was criticism or compliment. He came to no conclusion before moving on. "I'm just here enjoying the fresh sea air, paying my respects to the saints. If anyone here is involving themselves in politics, I'd say it was you. What are you up to, Zechs?" It crossed his mind that he had no right to ask, not after abandoning Zechs to his fate the way he had, but Zechs apparently felt he had the right to track what Heero was doing, so clearly Zechs believed they still had a role to play in each other's lives.
"Simply enjoying the fresh sea air... while following the flow of human history. Swimming against the current gets you nowhere, Heero. Remember that." The tall blond tilted his head in a gesture of respect and farewell before sauntering off.
Zechs didn't seem to expect a response, so Heero watched him go in silence. When Zechs had vanished through the gates, Heero went quickly after him, but saw Zechs heading toward the busy marketplace, and knew he would not be able to track him through the noontime crowds without making a fuss. With a disgruntled expression, he left to rendezvous with the others.
When he arrived at the west gate, he brought with him a pensive mood. Quatre picked up on it almost immediately and was not particularly pleased. He thought Heero had been more engaged than usual these last few days, starting the moment he had defied Odin's command. His focus had settled into a familiar introspection afterward, but the news that they had possibly left the princess in harm's way had unburied something inside him. Even their forced inactivity onboard the ship had not banked that spark. Quatre loved his friend, moods and all, but it had been heartening to see a return to a Heero from a less conflicted time.
With Wufei and Duo debating the finer points of goblin hunting, and Trowa yet to arrive, Quatre installed himself by his friend's side. "Heero?"
Heero turned to him distractedly, but after a few seconds, he recognized that patient look on Quatre's face and made the effort to shake himself back to attention. He took a cleansing breath and set his mind in order. "I saw Zechs."
"What?" That was not what Quatre had been expecting. The others fell silent and drifted over. "Where?"
"I ran into him outside of the church. I'm pretty sure he was waiting for me."
"What happened?"
Heero pursed his lips for a moment, reviewing the brief encounter. "He told me not to get involved with the princess."
Wufei hummed thoughtfully. "From which we can conclude that he himself is involved with the princess?"
"Possibly," Quatre answered cautiously, not wanting to assume too much. "Did he say anything else? Was that all?"
Heero nodded. "We exchanged additional words, but... he is as skilled in the art of saying nothing as he was in our first encounter. He left by way of the marketplace. I did not follow."
"How did he know we were here?" Duo thought to ask.
"He did not say."
"Involved with the princess, and an information network?" Wufei added to his previous suggestion. They had exercised discretion when arranging their travels, but elaborate subterfuge had not seemed necessary at the time. "It seems unlikely he is working alone, unless he has been aggressively following us. He fought against Barton's men earlier, but had no interest in Weyridge either. A third party entirely?"
"I asked what he was doing here. He said, 'following the flow of human history.'"
Duo snorted. "Sheesh, and people give me a rough time for meaningless conversation."
"At least we know for certain that the trip was worth it now," Quatre concluded. "Our suspicions have been confirmed. There would be no reason for a warning otherwise."
"The church, maybe?" Duo reminded Wufei. "We've already identified a third party, remember?"
"Then a fourth, perhaps," Wufei conceded sourly. "I know not what business Zechs would have with any of them."
"Trowa's comin'," Duo announced, spotting the long polearm strapped to the dragoon's back before he saw the man himself. Their eyes met and they acknowledged each other. "Let's get going."
The four of them gathered themselves and joined the stream of people leaving through the west gate. Trowa would catch up with them outside, and perhaps anyone looking for a group of five would be misled. It wasn't much, and Zechs obviously already knew where they were, but sometimes the little things mattered.
They met up not half an hour later outside of Warjilis and shared their information. They updated Trowa on Zechs' unexpected appearance, and in return, he briefed them on the gossip he'd heard around the port, and together, they assembled a picture of current events. There was nothing regarding the princess -- everything was quiet on that front, though surely all the interested parties knew of her whereabouts now. This lull in the action was only because the major players were repositioning themselves for the next round. There were rumors that the king was more ill than was generally let out to he public, that there was even a Cardinal nearby at all times, ready to perform the final rites.
Duke Barton and his daughter Queen Leia had been less than subtle in their push for Princess Mariemaia to be successor to the king, behaving presumptuously but issuing no demands. Princess Relena's name was heard more often now as a possible contender for the throne, though she had not yet surfaced to champion her own cause. Duke Weyridge saw to that, he and his growing bloc of allies. Indeed, no one was playing coy anymore, except perhaps the king, who had still not made a formal decision.
"This makes me nervous," Wufei put forth. "All this choosing of sides. This will not end well."
Duo scowled. "With a little luck, maybe the nobles will manage not to drag the entire civilian population into their little war this time."
"That'd take a lot of luck," Trowa corrected. "Hey, remember White Fang? They were big a few years back, all those conscripts trying to win some benefits after the last war? I heard that even their leader was seen out and about recently."
"Quinze?" The furrow already visible on Heero's brow deepened.
"Yeah... You know him?" Trowa sounded skeptical.
"...We've crossed paths. What is he up to?"
Trowa shrugged. "No one said. Can't imagine whose side he'd be on, but it does seem like this battle over the succession is bringing everyone out of the woodwork to place their bets."
"What about us?" Duo looked seriously at each of them, though most of all at Heero. "Are we throwing in our lot with Princess Relena, then? Because I'm all for saving damsels in distress, but I have zero interest in getting caught up in the succession. That's blueblood business."
"I have no more interest in that than you," Heero assured him solemnly. "I admit, I hail from a traditional family, loyal to the throne. I would be supporting the Queen's claim, were I still with them. But such things... are in the past now. You are right about the Princess Relena. We owe her our aid, if the Church or someone in it means her ill. We delivered her into their hands unknowingly. Though I care not whether she ultimately ascends the throne... I would not see her come to harm through our actions. She is nothing more than a pawn in this game. She will be either killed, or compelled to take up a crown she never asked for, and that is the fate that has been written for her by forces beyond our control. By the flow of human history, perhaps," he added pensively, pausing for a moment to puzzle once more over Zechs' meaning. "We cannot alter her path, but... we need not push her down that path with needless haste."
"And if we save her? What then? I don't disagree with you, like I said, but... seems like no matter what we do with her in the end, we'd be taking someone's side. One way or another."
"I'm not opposed to taking a side," Wufei declared. "If one side seems willing to assassinate or otherwise sabotage the other side. I have little concern for whichever house takes the throne, but I am a citzen of Ivalice, and I would like for the ruler of my country not to consider assassination a valid political tool."
Trowa let out a sharp little laugh. "What happens if both sides should stoop so low?"
He frowned. "I have no control over their moral codes, but I do have control over mine."
"Inaction is an action as well," Quatre reminded them all. "We side against her by not assisting her, now that we know she is in a perilous situation. We are damned either way. We might as well damn ourselves in a way that allows us to sleep at night."
With that grim assessment, they were all in agreement and set off toward Lionel.
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Parth: 9
The Faithful and the Brave
Part 9
"Well, since it seems you already have the princess in hand, I guess you no longer require my assistance," Odin said, scratching his chin thoughtfully.
"Yes, the princess has been taken care of, but that's not the end of things," Tsuberov answered, glancing pointedly at the third man in his office.
He colored. The Cardinal was a powerful man, but so was Ralph Kurt of the Kurt Trading Company, and his days of being spoken to like some mere underling were long past. "They tricked us with their clever facsimile once. They will not be so lucky a second time."
"Except this is not your second attempt to capture the Stone. It has eluded your grasp too many times now, my dear Ralph, to be considered anything other than a failure."
Kurt grit his teeth. "Your Grace, this time I will personally oversee the retrieval of the Stone. It will be in your hands before the week is out."
"I have no reason to believe that one last attempt from you will end any differently than any of your previous ventures. Perhaps Odin Lowe here can do a better job."
"A common mercenary?"
Tsuberov smiled grimly at him. "What do you think you are, Mr. Kurt?" He turned to Odin. "Well?"
Odin considered his answer carefully. "I think I am not currently in a position to take on another job. I was hired to see to the princess. This Stone, or whatever it is you're seeking, is not my concern."
"Ah, yes. Well, the princess may be in my custody, but I'm afraid there are still some loose ends to be tied up. I'm certain Duke Treize would appreciate your attention to detail."
"Oh?"
"I hear that you also ran into trouble in getting your own task done, yes? And as a result, your young rebel underlings are out and about meddling in things they ought not to be meddling in."
"Are they?" Odin asked flatly.
"They are the ones that thwarted Mr. Kurt's efforts. And in fact, Mr. Kurt informs me that they may have obtained evidence of our little plots here. They know too much. They are a variable that needs to be eliminated before they become more than a nuisance. Don't you agree?"
Odin frowned. It seemed the boys just couldn't leave well enough alone. He was sufficiently familiar with them to know that they would indeed become more than a nuisance, if they chose to get involved. He didn't tolerate slackers on his team. Nor did he enjoy variables. If they were pursuing this business with the Stone, then it wouldn't be long until they sniffed out the Cardinal's other shady affairs, which would only lead back to Odin's own employer of the moment. He sighed, thinking he had best not report back to the Duke with more tales of trouble beyond the scope of his commission. "I don't enjoy cleaning up other people's messes, but it seems you've left me no choice."
Kurt bristled. "If you'd had better control of your men in the first place..."
"You're in no position to criticize," the Cardinal observed mildly. "See to it, Odin."
The mercenary recognized a dismissal when he heard one and departed gladly, his mind already turning over schemes.
"You, on the other hand, Mr. Kurt," Tsuberov continued. "I'm afraid I still have business with you."
Kurt bowed. "Your Grace. The Stone shall be yours."
"It shall indeed, though not by your hands."
"But --"
"The business I refer to," Tsuberov said, standing slowly from his chair and advancing on Kurt. "...is the small matter of the punishment for your failure."
The chill of a paralyzing dread crept through Ralph Kurt's body with each step the Cardinal took, but it barely had time to make itself at home.
It had been easy enough to secure passage at the port to Warjilis. There were plenty of ships that were more than happy to pick up a little extra gil carrying passengers with their cargo. To keep things simple, they thanked their chocobos for their service and left them in the hands of the Sweepers, to be used or released as the guild saw fit.
The journey of a few days was uneventful. The seas were typically choppy, as they were in this area, but the weather had remained mostly fair. When they made port, they split up to refresh their supplies and check the latest word on the streets. Ports were always filled with talk.
Heero paid a visit to the church, entering to offer a prayer to the saints at an altar conveniently close to a trio of idle church personnel, and though they did gossip softly, they spoke of nothing of great consequence. He stood to leave, pausing for a moment to adjust the pack on his back near two novices, but their private chuckles were more irrelevant than the last.
He emerged into the bright noontime sun and had his vision dazzled for a moment. It lasted longer than he expected, but then he realized the aftereffect was the light glistening brightly off a long fall of frost-blond hair bound neatly back with a blue tie. Heero blinked numbly in recognition before moving casually to the man's side. "Zechs."
Zechs turned without surprise from the statue he had ostensibly been studying. "Heero."
"What are you doing here?" It was not the only question Heero had it in his mind to ask, but it was the first to spring forth into the air. It seemed too large a coincidence for their meeting to be an accident, and it set him on edge.
"You meddle in things beyond your concern, Heero," Zechs said conversationally.
Heero's eyes narrowed. "What would you know of what concerns me?"
"Your concerns have always been uncommon," Zechs acknowledged with a sardonic twist of his lips. "You should keep them that way. Your involvement in this matter with the princess is ill-advised."
"The princess has been safely delivered to her destination," he answered neutrally, unwilling to give away their plans in case Zechs was not nearly as well-informed as he seemed.
"And would that that were the end of things," Zechs sighed. "But you know better than that. You never much cared for politics, Heero. Don't start now."
Heero spent a moment trying to figure out whether that was criticism or compliment. He came to no conclusion before moving on. "I'm just here enjoying the fresh sea air, paying my respects to the saints. If anyone here is involving themselves in politics, I'd say it was you. What are you up to, Zechs?" It crossed his mind that he had no right to ask, not after abandoning Zechs to his fate the way he had, but Zechs apparently felt he had the right to track what Heero was doing, so clearly Zechs believed they still had a role to play in each other's lives.
"Simply enjoying the fresh sea air... while following the flow of human history. Swimming against the current gets you nowhere, Heero. Remember that." The tall blond tilted his head in a gesture of respect and farewell before sauntering off.
Zechs didn't seem to expect a response, so Heero watched him go in silence. When Zechs had vanished through the gates, Heero went quickly after him, but saw Zechs heading toward the busy marketplace, and knew he would not be able to track him through the noontime crowds without making a fuss. With a disgruntled expression, he left to rendezvous with the others.
When he arrived at the west gate, he brought with him a pensive mood. Quatre picked up on it almost immediately and was not particularly pleased. He thought Heero had been more engaged than usual these last few days, starting the moment he had defied Odin's command. His focus had settled into a familiar introspection afterward, but the news that they had possibly left the princess in harm's way had unburied something inside him. Even their forced inactivity onboard the ship had not banked that spark. Quatre loved his friend, moods and all, but it had been heartening to see a return to a Heero from a less conflicted time.
With Wufei and Duo debating the finer points of goblin hunting, and Trowa yet to arrive, Quatre installed himself by his friend's side. "Heero?"
Heero turned to him distractedly, but after a few seconds, he recognized that patient look on Quatre's face and made the effort to shake himself back to attention. He took a cleansing breath and set his mind in order. "I saw Zechs."
"What?" That was not what Quatre had been expecting. The others fell silent and drifted over. "Where?"
"I ran into him outside of the church. I'm pretty sure he was waiting for me."
"What happened?"
Heero pursed his lips for a moment, reviewing the brief encounter. "He told me not to get involved with the princess."
Wufei hummed thoughtfully. "From which we can conclude that he himself is involved with the princess?"
"Possibly," Quatre answered cautiously, not wanting to assume too much. "Did he say anything else? Was that all?"
Heero nodded. "We exchanged additional words, but... he is as skilled in the art of saying nothing as he was in our first encounter. He left by way of the marketplace. I did not follow."
"How did he know we were here?" Duo thought to ask.
"He did not say."
"Involved with the princess, and an information network?" Wufei added to his previous suggestion. They had exercised discretion when arranging their travels, but elaborate subterfuge had not seemed necessary at the time. "It seems unlikely he is working alone, unless he has been aggressively following us. He fought against Barton's men earlier, but had no interest in Weyridge either. A third party entirely?"
"I asked what he was doing here. He said, 'following the flow of human history.'"
Duo snorted. "Sheesh, and people give me a rough time for meaningless conversation."
"At least we know for certain that the trip was worth it now," Quatre concluded. "Our suspicions have been confirmed. There would be no reason for a warning otherwise."
"The church, maybe?" Duo reminded Wufei. "We've already identified a third party, remember?"
"Then a fourth, perhaps," Wufei conceded sourly. "I know not what business Zechs would have with any of them."
"Trowa's comin'," Duo announced, spotting the long polearm strapped to the dragoon's back before he saw the man himself. Their eyes met and they acknowledged each other. "Let's get going."
The four of them gathered themselves and joined the stream of people leaving through the west gate. Trowa would catch up with them outside, and perhaps anyone looking for a group of five would be misled. It wasn't much, and Zechs obviously already knew where they were, but sometimes the little things mattered.
They met up not half an hour later outside of Warjilis and shared their information. They updated Trowa on Zechs' unexpected appearance, and in return, he briefed them on the gossip he'd heard around the port, and together, they assembled a picture of current events. There was nothing regarding the princess -- everything was quiet on that front, though surely all the interested parties knew of her whereabouts now. This lull in the action was only because the major players were repositioning themselves for the next round. There were rumors that the king was more ill than was generally let out to he public, that there was even a Cardinal nearby at all times, ready to perform the final rites.
Duke Barton and his daughter Queen Leia had been less than subtle in their push for Princess Mariemaia to be successor to the king, behaving presumptuously but issuing no demands. Princess Relena's name was heard more often now as a possible contender for the throne, though she had not yet surfaced to champion her own cause. Duke Weyridge saw to that, he and his growing bloc of allies. Indeed, no one was playing coy anymore, except perhaps the king, who had still not made a formal decision.
"This makes me nervous," Wufei put forth. "All this choosing of sides. This will not end well."
Duo scowled. "With a little luck, maybe the nobles will manage not to drag the entire civilian population into their little war this time."
"That'd take a lot of luck," Trowa corrected. "Hey, remember White Fang? They were big a few years back, all those conscripts trying to win some benefits after the last war? I heard that even their leader was seen out and about recently."
"Quinze?" The furrow already visible on Heero's brow deepened.
"Yeah... You know him?" Trowa sounded skeptical.
"...We've crossed paths. What is he up to?"
Trowa shrugged. "No one said. Can't imagine whose side he'd be on, but it does seem like this battle over the succession is bringing everyone out of the woodwork to place their bets."
"What about us?" Duo looked seriously at each of them, though most of all at Heero. "Are we throwing in our lot with Princess Relena, then? Because I'm all for saving damsels in distress, but I have zero interest in getting caught up in the succession. That's blueblood business."
"I have no more interest in that than you," Heero assured him solemnly. "I admit, I hail from a traditional family, loyal to the throne. I would be supporting the Queen's claim, were I still with them. But such things... are in the past now. You are right about the Princess Relena. We owe her our aid, if the Church or someone in it means her ill. We delivered her into their hands unknowingly. Though I care not whether she ultimately ascends the throne... I would not see her come to harm through our actions. She is nothing more than a pawn in this game. She will be either killed, or compelled to take up a crown she never asked for, and that is the fate that has been written for her by forces beyond our control. By the flow of human history, perhaps," he added pensively, pausing for a moment to puzzle once more over Zechs' meaning. "We cannot alter her path, but... we need not push her down that path with needless haste."
"And if we save her? What then? I don't disagree with you, like I said, but... seems like no matter what we do with her in the end, we'd be taking someone's side. One way or another."
"I'm not opposed to taking a side," Wufei declared. "If one side seems willing to assassinate or otherwise sabotage the other side. I have little concern for whichever house takes the throne, but I am a citzen of Ivalice, and I would like for the ruler of my country not to consider assassination a valid political tool."
Trowa let out a sharp little laugh. "What happens if both sides should stoop so low?"
He frowned. "I have no control over their moral codes, but I do have control over mine."
"Inaction is an action as well," Quatre reminded them all. "We side against her by not assisting her, now that we know she is in a perilous situation. We are damned either way. We might as well damn ourselves in a way that allows us to sleep at night."
With that grim assessment, they were all in agreement and set off toward Lionel.
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