fic - the faithful and the brave : 39 [novella]
Title: The Faithful and the Brave
Part: 39
The Faithful and the Brave
Part 39
The sharp sound of thunder made it to them easily, even though the area where the confrontation had taken place was now blocked from view by the terrain. Duo glanced anxiously over his shoulder anyway. "He'll be okay?"
"He's known to have taken on more men than that on his own," Heero answered tensely. His head dipped as if he also wanted to look over his shoulder, but he restrained himself. "He'll be okay."
Duo chose not to express any more doubt. It was true, General Noventa had earned himself quite the reputation -- and nickname -- most of which he probably deserved, but it would never feel right leaving an ally behind. "So...," he said instead, pausing momentarily as their chocobos parted around an obstacle. They were traveling faster now back to the watchtower than they had passed it by, but these were not mountain chocobos, whose natural strides could make quick work of rough terrain. "How did you end up with 'Thunder God' Noventa as your uncle?"
Heero spared him a glance before bringing his eyes forward again. "He isn't. He's Treize's uncle. Treize's mother was a Noventa."
"And, uh, no offense, but he let his sister's husband's bastard son...?"
"It was Sylvia, really." His expression tightened for a moment as he said her name. "She was the one that won him over. I was just a part of the package."
"Ah." Curiosity satisfied for the moment, Duo let it drop.
The watchtower was deserted when they got there, the wagon with its casks of mossfungus gone, but it hardly required Trowa's advanced skills to track such a vehicle with such a cargo. Their quarry had no more than a half-hour's lead on them.
They found them within the hour. The shipment had rendezvoused with the next link in their supply chain and they were now engaged in transferring several of the casks from one wagon to the next. The three people with the receiving wagon wore no insignia, but they worked together with the Divine Knights as equals in the distribution of the goods.
They struck stealthily, unwilling to risk either of the wagons escaping during their attack. Duo chose a moment when no one was looking, and with the aide of a sling, pitched one of his little bombs at a barrel already resting in its new transport. A bit more delicate than one he might normally carry about in his pocket, this one exploded upon impact with a loud crack. The barrel exploded with it, the mossfungus spore spilling out in a heavy puff. Amid startled shouts from the crew, the chocobos jumped in alarm, particularly the two hitched to the targeted wagon. Their frantic effort to get away from the explosion at their backs caused the wagon to buck, and a second barrel slid out of it, thudding onto the ground with its lid askew. A third barrel, dropped in surprise, seemed intact.
There was much cursing from the crew, but from the bickering and accusations, it seemed as if they thought the explosion was a result of mishandling, or unstable impurities mixed in with the spore, perhaps. Mossfungus spore wasn't particularly known to be volatile, but then, it was rarely hauled about in large quantities. One of the Divine Knights silenced the argument impatiently and turned their focus toward salvaging what they could. Duo had concocted his ordnance for force rather than heat, and the spore had not ignited. Even if it had, it had not reached maturity. It would burn with moderate heat and be quickly reduced to smouldering.
Duo eyed his next target. The knights would not be so stupid as to fall for the same trick a second time, but it would be no less effective at damaging at least one more barrel.
A voice called out from the direction opposite them, hailing the knights from afar. It was difficult to see, but they appeared to be another wagon with yet more guards. They had ridden up with speed, likely alerted by the sound of the explosion, but slowed as they saw their compatriots were under no attack.
"Quickly," Quatre hissed. The numbers would be against them shortly.
In accordance with their plan, Trowa, Heero and Quatre advanced swiftly. Duo let them close a good part of the distance before letting loose. Two more barrels surrendered their contents to the open air, and the chocobos, already spooked by the first explosion, squawked loudly in protest. The men shouted in surprise as well, there being no confusion this time as to the threat. Another barrel was mishandled in the fumble for their weapons, and Trowa managed to slip in and neatly sever the harnesses of the closer wagon without any opposition. The birds, untrained for battle, gladly added to the fracas as they fled the unfolding scene.
Heero and Trowa pushed forward with a brazen offensive, both in an effort to neutralize as many of the men as they could before their reinforcements joined the fight, and also to clear the space for Quatre to set about his own task. No elegant magic this time; his staff was put to work smashing casks with uncharacteristic abandon.
"Stop them!" someone shouted rather pointlessly. Switching up his tricks, Duo tossed a firecracker at the cargo not currently benefitting from Quatre's attention. It landed far too close to the chocobos for their comfort, and they decided they'd had enough of this. The birds bolted, taking the wagon with them, though not the cargo. The unsecured barrels crashed to the ground behind them. With the first set of enemies trying to get past Heero and Trowa, and the second fouled up in their approach for a moment by the fleeing birds, Duo dashed forward to pry the lids off the two fallen barrels that had not burst open on their own.
"Done!" he called out upon completion, rushing back to assist his companions. He flanked their opponents and relieved some of the pressure on them, long enough for Quatre to signal his own mission's success. The four of them together now began to retreat from the field. Their slow but steady pace held until behind them, Wufei announced the end of the second to last step in their plan. The mossfungus spore had needed to be exposed to the air, and even then, it had taken him a while to overcome the high moisture content of the immature spore. But now the contents of each barrel was smoking, and very shortly the reactions would hit a certain critical mass and they would blaze, consuming enough of the material to guarantee it could no longer be used for its original intent.
All that was left was their escape. Unencumbered, Wufei returned to their chocobos first. He prepped them all for a swift departure before riding back a bit to cover their retreat with ice. Their opponents were tenacious and angry and it took quite some time to lose them, but they managed in the end. It would not have been wise for them to stand their ground and fight, not so close to Fort Besselat, the Church's field headquarters. They had been obliged to dodge not only their original pursuers but also one more Church squad on patrol through the 'neutral' territory. But their flight left them in the west, when their original destination had been Mt. Germinas to the east.
Once they were reasonably certain of their safety for the moment, they stopped for a rest and to discuss their options. Crossing the lowlands had been risky before, but possible. Now, with the Church alerted to their presence, with more troops flocking to the soon-to-be battlefield, the chance of success was next to none. If they persisted in seeking out the library of antiquities on Mt. Germinas, then they would have no choice but to take the weeks-long detour they had avoided before now. But the library had been only a place where they might pick up a lead on the location of the Necrohol, or a translation of the juicier bits of the apostle's notes. Perhaps there was another avenue of inquiry available to them.
In any case, dusk would soon be upon them. They needed to find somewhere safe to hole up for the night, so they mounted back up and rode on. They put some more distance between themselves and anyone that might be looking for them before they made a serious effort to locate a place to shelter.
They were just reaching the perimeter of a rocky formation that might serve as a potential campsite when Trowa held a hand out for a halt. He peered at the ground, trying to make out details in the twilight gloom, eventually dismounting for a better look. "Tracks," he said tersely. "Lots of them. Recent. We should --"
His words were stopped by a sword to his throat.
Duo quickly slipped a knife from its sheath with a muttered curse and took aim. The assailant's body was hidden behind a rock and the arm was well-armored, but Duo's blade could pierce the vulnerability in the elbow joint and disable the threat.
"I wouldn't," a voice cautioned them haughtily.
Heero inhaled sharply as more armored foes emerged from hiding to surround them. Not more than they had defeated before, perhaps, but the sword at Trowa's throat had not wavered. When the enemy motioned for them to dismount and throw down their arms, they had no choice but to comply. A spell of silence was laid upon their two mages, demonstrating yet one more way in which their ambushers had been prepared for them. Once their birds were herded out of the way, Trowa was guided back to them, courtesy of the sword. The knight holding the sword emerged from cover, and only when Trowa was under guard with the rest of them did she lower her blade and step back.
Heero's dark stare was diverted to their leader as he emerged as well. "Well, well," that same smooth, noble's voice said to them. "You've been causing a lot of trouble, haven't you?"
"Treize," Heero answered evenly.
"Heero." There was only a hint of a sneer there. One of his men lit a torch and thrust it into the ground. Another soon followed.
He got a better look at the force surrounding them. Some wore the badge of House Khushrenada, of course. There were also two Templars and a Church knight amongst them. It was by no means the gathered might of the armies of Romefeller, who would surely be joining Duke Barton's forces soon upon the battlefield.
"Trouble for whom, exactly?" Heero asked cautiously, weighing the strange retinue and judging its implications.
"Where to begin? You've managed to associate the Khushrenada name with murder, boy. Of a cardinal, no less." He sounded more annoyed than outraged.
"I do not claim the Khushrenada name as my own. It's your Church friends there that keep insisting on the association."
"There is some truth to that. Petty politics at play. I've lodged a formal complaint, of course, but..." He shrugged elegantly. "Heero... Yuy, is it? Truly, the best thing you've done to honor the Khushrenada name in some time. I, for one, am glad to finally discard the pretense of brotherhood that Father forced upon us. I resent being obliged to put you down."
"You appear to have allied yourself with the Church. Do you think that honors the Khushrenada name?"
"Whatever do you mean? The Church of Glabados is a respected and well-regarded institution in our fair homeland. But then, you've been declared a heretic, so one can scarcely expect to argue the point with you."
"If refusing to embrace an institution that would manipulate its followers, murder thousands of men, to seize power for itself is heresy..." Heero looked at the knights surrounding them. None of them seemed surprised at all by his accusations, though Une did shift uncomfortably. "Then yes, I would proudly wear the name of heretic. And I think Father would be proud of me."
"Father lacked vision. After the war, he returned home, content to rest upon his hard-won laurels when he should have pressed his advantage. He was offered a permanent seat on Council, and he refused. Refused! I could not even believe such an absurdity could be true until he confirmed it to me. He saved me quite some trouble, falling ill as he did."
Heero stared at him. "You would have killed him?"
"It would have been for the benefit of House Khushrenada," he answered sharply. "For the good of Ivalice. He was ready to fade slowly into retirement, even as new threats were rising to threaten our country's stability."
"The civil unrest? Father didn't believe it was his place as a military man to intervene in domestic troubles."
"An excuse for complacence. Did he imagine the problems would solve themselves? No, it is men with power that solve problems. To have power and refuse to wield it is unconscionable. Better that he yield it to someone with the will to do what must be done."
An awful suspicion crept up within him. He took some strange measure of comfort in the fact that he did not deny the possibility immediately. His old self would never have entertained the thought. "Are you why Father never got better?"
"His time was over. The gods had decreed it. It simply would have taken an abominably long time if those chemists had had their way."
"Lord Treize...," Une murmured behind him, dumbstruck. Her loyalty had always been to Treize first, Khushrenada second, but she would never have been in a position to serve if not for the generosity of the old Duke, and his willingness to offer lowborn people like herself opportunities they would never otherwise have.
Treize raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes, Sir Une?"
She blinked at him once before schooling her expression into one of deference. "It was nothing, Your Grace."
"You intend to kill us?" Heero asked, drawing his attention away from her. There was really little question as to what the answer would be. He didn't think Treize had ever spoken so freely to him in his entire life.
Treize looked at his adjutant for a moment longer before making a dismissive sound and turning back to his prisoners. "Of course," he answered coolly. "You are a symbol of Father's weakness. A man can be forgiven a bastard. Even two. But that he would allow this illegitimate offspring the honor of his name, the privileges of his rank..."
"And what of your bastard child? You would elevate her to Queen."
"She will have the throne by virtue of bloodshed, not birthright. That is all the 'legitimacy' she will need. Though I confess, it would be sweet indeed to see a Khushrenada officially upon the throne. I am certain the Church will be accommodating in amending her lineage."
"Are you certain the Bartons will be equally as accommodating?"
"Duke Barton will be in no position to protest. That arrow is already in flight."
He sounded too smug to be anything other than personally responsible. "Another part of the Church's plot falls into place. You would raise the Khushrenadas by being the Church's errand boy?"
Treize laughed. "You seek to insult me, boy? My own interests happen to align with the Church's at the moment. Nothing more. I can discard the alliance at my convenience."
The Church knight in the party scowled at him. "Duke Khushrenada..."
Treize made a small gesture at the Khushrenada knight next to the Church's man. The House knight, blade already drawn to keep watch over the prisoners, turned with a certain amount of aplomb and cut off any further protest with a slice across the man's throat. Treize tsked. "Fallen in battle against the heretic. Tragic loss."
Heero watched the dead man's blood soak into the dirt. There was something unsettling about it, beyond the man's swift and meaningless execution.
"The Church will no longer be useful to me, soon enough. You, on the other hand, have never been useful to me. Until recently, you were merely harmless. No longer. At least your sister will serve some purpose, but after her task is complete, I can finish erasing the two of --"
Heero stiffened at first mention of his sister. "Where is she!?" he demanded, taking several steps toward his half-brother before being blocked by a spear and a sword. Heero stopped just short of them, but otherwise scarcely seemed to notice the weapons warning him back. His friends automatically moved to support him, but they, too, were under guard. "Where have you taken her?"
Treize watched, unruffled. "Is she really your primary concern at the moment?"
Yes. ...No. A nagging sensation solidified into another terrible conclusion. Treize knew about Sylvia's 'task'. Treize knew, and therefore must be a part of it. "Have you taken a Stone?" he asked hoarsely.
"My, my." Treize was as condescending as ever, but it was at least tinged this time by a whiff of amused respect. "You know quite a bit, don't you? No wonder Dermail was so cagey about you."
It was not a direct admission, but something inside him whispered it was true. "The Stone will destroy you, Treize. Perhaps it already has."
"If by 'destruction' you mean that I have secured power and prestige for my House," he answered mockingly. "Then by all means, let me be destroyed."
Treize reached into the pouch at his belt and pulled out a Zodiac Stone, turning it so its deep blue caught the torchlight. Heero felt it like a weight pushing down on him. "The Leo Stone," Treize said, admiring it. "So much hiding within its depths...."
"Lord Treize...," Une murmured again, though this time her words went unheeded. Heero heard her, though. Their eyes met, and he saw recognition there. He had reported to her the threat these Zodiac Stones presented. He had nearly forgotten. He did not know if she had relayed the information to Treize, or if she had given any further thought to his story after he left, but he could see that she, too, recalled the tale.
"I was told the Stone requires blood and sacrifice to unlock its power," Treize said matter-of-factly. He glanced down at the fallen Church knight and shook his head. "Much more than this little worm could provide."
That was the disquieting feeling from earlier. That had been the man's death feeding the hidden Stone.
Treize pulled his sword and looked at Heero. "Even your death, though it would be satisfying, would be of little use to me. No, if there must be blood and sacrifice..." He turned to the woman standing beside him and slammed his sword into her gut, beneath her breastplate.
"No!" Heero shouted. He rushed forward as if he could somehow stop what had already been done. His guard shoved him back and he stumbled to the ground. Two of the other knights of House Khushrenada also stepped forward in their shock, but one of the Templars growled threateningly at them and they remained silent.
"Then it can only be you, my lady," Treize said softly, looking Une in the eye as she stared wide-eyed and incredulous at him. "Only you, my precious adjutant, are a worthy sacrifice."
She gasped at him, then slumped to the ground as he withdrew his sword.
Heero had fallen in the direction of their surrendered weapons. He dive-rolled toward them while his guard was distracted by the sight of Treize sliding the Stone down the bloody length of his blade, and came up with the closest weapon at hand, Trowa's glaive. A shudder ran down his spine and he knew it was too late. The dark power being invoked touched a chord in him, but it did not knock him to his knees this time. It fueled his anger instead, and his frustrated rage became a battle cry as he attacked, attracting enough attention to give his companions opportunity to break free and re-arm themselves. He stayed just long enough for Trowa to take up his sword before advancing, unable to stop the sapphire light swirling around Treize, but unable to not try.
A knight of House Khushrenada fell before him. Beyond him, he saw another of House Khushrenada make a failed attempt at taking down a Templar. He took heart in knowing that apparently not everyone was okay with this. He picked out his next target, but a throwing star took him in the throat first, and Heero felt the spell of silence shatter.
It was not the first chaotic battlefield he had been in, but perhaps the first where his blood began to sing with a strange combination of rage and joy and calm and anticipation. The Templar in front of him stank with the demon's taint, but he felt himself more powerful. He was hyperaware of each body on the ground, each mote of power that went into feeding the Leo Stone, each tendril that wrapped itself around Treize's soul.
He had worked with Quatre and Sally to shield himself from the dissonance of the dark energy that had weakened and distracted him before, and it seemed to have worked, insofar as he was still standing. But hidden underneath that dissonance was nothing but a clarity so sharp it threatened to cut him open. He knew without taking his eyes off the opponent in front of him that Treize's power was more like that of Trant than fully manifested as was Tsuberov. He felt one of Quatre's protective spells settle over him, and it seemed to only increase the intensity of his focus. As he pushed a House knight off his sword -- when had he reacquired his sword? ah, when he and Trowa had taken out a Templar, there had been a moment in which to switch -- he knew Treize was doing something similar to one of his own House knights, testing out this new power of his curiously.
He knew Wufei needed his assistance because he scented the spilling of his friend's blood somehow, some whiff of essence in the swirls around him. He fell back to cover the mage's flank, and something inside him felt disappointed that he was heading in the wrong direction, moving away from Treize, but no, he was needed here.
But not for too much longer, because soon enough, it was just them left, and Treize smiling at them from across the field. "Was Tsuberov just that incompetent? I am assured he had so much more power than this... and yet he could be defeated by the likes of you."
"Maybe we're just that good, asshole," Duo muttered from somewhere behind him.
"He was a Cardinal, I suppose," Treize continued musing. "Untrained in the ways of war."
"He was not himself in the end," Heero said softly. "He was..." Cúchulainn. The name rose in his memory. Was Treize still himself? He did not want to fight Treize. He was... A mere shadow of Adrammelech. That name also rose to mind unbidden. This mere shadow of Adrammelech could be defeated, as easily as Trant -- no, Belias. Easily? Heero should likely have died in that fight. The strong survive.
Heero shook his head. "Father would grieve to see us so."
"Enough about him! If you miss him so much, you may join him!"
He is not as powerful as he thinks. Not so much blood had been spilled in his favor. Dermail -- Hashmal -- had not done the invoking. To what extent was he just a tool of Dermail's, bought with the promise of power, to further the cause of the demon lord's resurrection? There were five of them, one of him, and they'd done this before.
But Heero had never known Treize to practice any sword techniques, and here now his sword blazed with blue coldfire. Heero felt it yearning toward his warmth whenever their swords met. Which was often. Trowa and Duo tried to take some of the pressure off of him, but Treize came after him with a vengeance, swatting their attacks aside with arcs of frigid flame.
Had they ever crossed blades before? No, Heero had watched Treize at his training in his youth, but Treize would never have deigned to spar with his father's bastard, even had Treize not been nine years his senior. They had not had that sort of relationship. Une, though. She'd had occasion to drop a kind word, offer a bit of advice, when such situations presented themselves, to both him and his sister. Rarely while Treize was watching. Perhaps it was largely because of Une that Heero felt he had any relationship with Treize at all. And now she lay in the dirt, casually sacrificed to Treize's ambition, life seeping slowly out of her. Could he believe that Treize had lacked the resolve to finish her off properly? Or was he too distracted and she too unready to accept her fate?
There was a pause in the fight, each side backing off to take stock. He expected some sneer, some taunt to come his way. He felt Treize's intent, but felt also that Treize was too outraged by the fact that the fight was not yet over to find the words to express it. Treize, whom Heero had seldom witnessed not in control of himself, not disciplined, not dignified. Who had never had any warm feelings toward Heero, true, but for whom this vicious animosity was rather out of character. The power of the Stone was overwhelming that cool veneer of his, amplifying his negative energies, destroying him as Heero had predicted. Though there was blood lust in the air, Heero also felt sorrow.
Treize sought to tap further into the Stone, and the Stone obliged. The sapphire light flared and they were pushed back a step by its intangible force. Treize let out a bark of triumphant laughter and they braced themselves for an attack to come while they were blinded by that light, but the light died as quickly as it had flashed, and when the spots cleared from their vision, they saw Treize slump forward, first to his knees, and then face down in the dirt. The blade driven through him likely did more damage on the way out than it had going in. Behind him, Une managed to prop herself up with her bloodied sword for only a second before collapsing.
Heero ran to her, leaving behind the rush of battle with each step. "Une," he said despairingly, straightening her limbs to help her rest more comfortably. Trowa prodded Treize carefully, but Heero knew Adrammelech had abandoned him, and taken what remaining lifeforce there was with him.
Quatre knelt beside him and laid his hands over the wound in Une's belly. It would take a massive effort to save her, but it could be done.
Une weakly waved him off. "No.... I follow Treize. Who was taken... from me... by that Stone."
Heero nodded gravely, his voice thick with grief. "The demon is gone from his body. He may rest in peace now."
She closed her eyes briefly. "Your father... would indeed... be proud of you."
"As he would be of you. You have honored his confidence in you."
"I do not know what... but he said... we would meet your sister at Orbonne soon."
"Orbonne?" Heero repeated numbly.
"Go. Find her. As I go... to find..."
He shuddered as she drew her last breath.
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This entry was originally posted at https://turnippatch.dreamwidth.org/162330.html.
Part: 39
The Faithful and the Brave
Part 39
The sharp sound of thunder made it to them easily, even though the area where the confrontation had taken place was now blocked from view by the terrain. Duo glanced anxiously over his shoulder anyway. "He'll be okay?"
"He's known to have taken on more men than that on his own," Heero answered tensely. His head dipped as if he also wanted to look over his shoulder, but he restrained himself. "He'll be okay."
Duo chose not to express any more doubt. It was true, General Noventa had earned himself quite the reputation -- and nickname -- most of which he probably deserved, but it would never feel right leaving an ally behind. "So...," he said instead, pausing momentarily as their chocobos parted around an obstacle. They were traveling faster now back to the watchtower than they had passed it by, but these were not mountain chocobos, whose natural strides could make quick work of rough terrain. "How did you end up with 'Thunder God' Noventa as your uncle?"
Heero spared him a glance before bringing his eyes forward again. "He isn't. He's Treize's uncle. Treize's mother was a Noventa."
"And, uh, no offense, but he let his sister's husband's bastard son...?"
"It was Sylvia, really." His expression tightened for a moment as he said her name. "She was the one that won him over. I was just a part of the package."
"Ah." Curiosity satisfied for the moment, Duo let it drop.
The watchtower was deserted when they got there, the wagon with its casks of mossfungus gone, but it hardly required Trowa's advanced skills to track such a vehicle with such a cargo. Their quarry had no more than a half-hour's lead on them.
They found them within the hour. The shipment had rendezvoused with the next link in their supply chain and they were now engaged in transferring several of the casks from one wagon to the next. The three people with the receiving wagon wore no insignia, but they worked together with the Divine Knights as equals in the distribution of the goods.
They struck stealthily, unwilling to risk either of the wagons escaping during their attack. Duo chose a moment when no one was looking, and with the aide of a sling, pitched one of his little bombs at a barrel already resting in its new transport. A bit more delicate than one he might normally carry about in his pocket, this one exploded upon impact with a loud crack. The barrel exploded with it, the mossfungus spore spilling out in a heavy puff. Amid startled shouts from the crew, the chocobos jumped in alarm, particularly the two hitched to the targeted wagon. Their frantic effort to get away from the explosion at their backs caused the wagon to buck, and a second barrel slid out of it, thudding onto the ground with its lid askew. A third barrel, dropped in surprise, seemed intact.
There was much cursing from the crew, but from the bickering and accusations, it seemed as if they thought the explosion was a result of mishandling, or unstable impurities mixed in with the spore, perhaps. Mossfungus spore wasn't particularly known to be volatile, but then, it was rarely hauled about in large quantities. One of the Divine Knights silenced the argument impatiently and turned their focus toward salvaging what they could. Duo had concocted his ordnance for force rather than heat, and the spore had not ignited. Even if it had, it had not reached maturity. It would burn with moderate heat and be quickly reduced to smouldering.
Duo eyed his next target. The knights would not be so stupid as to fall for the same trick a second time, but it would be no less effective at damaging at least one more barrel.
A voice called out from the direction opposite them, hailing the knights from afar. It was difficult to see, but they appeared to be another wagon with yet more guards. They had ridden up with speed, likely alerted by the sound of the explosion, but slowed as they saw their compatriots were under no attack.
"Quickly," Quatre hissed. The numbers would be against them shortly.
In accordance with their plan, Trowa, Heero and Quatre advanced swiftly. Duo let them close a good part of the distance before letting loose. Two more barrels surrendered their contents to the open air, and the chocobos, already spooked by the first explosion, squawked loudly in protest. The men shouted in surprise as well, there being no confusion this time as to the threat. Another barrel was mishandled in the fumble for their weapons, and Trowa managed to slip in and neatly sever the harnesses of the closer wagon without any opposition. The birds, untrained for battle, gladly added to the fracas as they fled the unfolding scene.
Heero and Trowa pushed forward with a brazen offensive, both in an effort to neutralize as many of the men as they could before their reinforcements joined the fight, and also to clear the space for Quatre to set about his own task. No elegant magic this time; his staff was put to work smashing casks with uncharacteristic abandon.
"Stop them!" someone shouted rather pointlessly. Switching up his tricks, Duo tossed a firecracker at the cargo not currently benefitting from Quatre's attention. It landed far too close to the chocobos for their comfort, and they decided they'd had enough of this. The birds bolted, taking the wagon with them, though not the cargo. The unsecured barrels crashed to the ground behind them. With the first set of enemies trying to get past Heero and Trowa, and the second fouled up in their approach for a moment by the fleeing birds, Duo dashed forward to pry the lids off the two fallen barrels that had not burst open on their own.
"Done!" he called out upon completion, rushing back to assist his companions. He flanked their opponents and relieved some of the pressure on them, long enough for Quatre to signal his own mission's success. The four of them together now began to retreat from the field. Their slow but steady pace held until behind them, Wufei announced the end of the second to last step in their plan. The mossfungus spore had needed to be exposed to the air, and even then, it had taken him a while to overcome the high moisture content of the immature spore. But now the contents of each barrel was smoking, and very shortly the reactions would hit a certain critical mass and they would blaze, consuming enough of the material to guarantee it could no longer be used for its original intent.
All that was left was their escape. Unencumbered, Wufei returned to their chocobos first. He prepped them all for a swift departure before riding back a bit to cover their retreat with ice. Their opponents were tenacious and angry and it took quite some time to lose them, but they managed in the end. It would not have been wise for them to stand their ground and fight, not so close to Fort Besselat, the Church's field headquarters. They had been obliged to dodge not only their original pursuers but also one more Church squad on patrol through the 'neutral' territory. But their flight left them in the west, when their original destination had been Mt. Germinas to the east.
Once they were reasonably certain of their safety for the moment, they stopped for a rest and to discuss their options. Crossing the lowlands had been risky before, but possible. Now, with the Church alerted to their presence, with more troops flocking to the soon-to-be battlefield, the chance of success was next to none. If they persisted in seeking out the library of antiquities on Mt. Germinas, then they would have no choice but to take the weeks-long detour they had avoided before now. But the library had been only a place where they might pick up a lead on the location of the Necrohol, or a translation of the juicier bits of the apostle's notes. Perhaps there was another avenue of inquiry available to them.
In any case, dusk would soon be upon them. They needed to find somewhere safe to hole up for the night, so they mounted back up and rode on. They put some more distance between themselves and anyone that might be looking for them before they made a serious effort to locate a place to shelter.
They were just reaching the perimeter of a rocky formation that might serve as a potential campsite when Trowa held a hand out for a halt. He peered at the ground, trying to make out details in the twilight gloom, eventually dismounting for a better look. "Tracks," he said tersely. "Lots of them. Recent. We should --"
His words were stopped by a sword to his throat.
Duo quickly slipped a knife from its sheath with a muttered curse and took aim. The assailant's body was hidden behind a rock and the arm was well-armored, but Duo's blade could pierce the vulnerability in the elbow joint and disable the threat.
"I wouldn't," a voice cautioned them haughtily.
Heero inhaled sharply as more armored foes emerged from hiding to surround them. Not more than they had defeated before, perhaps, but the sword at Trowa's throat had not wavered. When the enemy motioned for them to dismount and throw down their arms, they had no choice but to comply. A spell of silence was laid upon their two mages, demonstrating yet one more way in which their ambushers had been prepared for them. Once their birds were herded out of the way, Trowa was guided back to them, courtesy of the sword. The knight holding the sword emerged from cover, and only when Trowa was under guard with the rest of them did she lower her blade and step back.
Heero's dark stare was diverted to their leader as he emerged as well. "Well, well," that same smooth, noble's voice said to them. "You've been causing a lot of trouble, haven't you?"
"Treize," Heero answered evenly.
"Heero." There was only a hint of a sneer there. One of his men lit a torch and thrust it into the ground. Another soon followed.
He got a better look at the force surrounding them. Some wore the badge of House Khushrenada, of course. There were also two Templars and a Church knight amongst them. It was by no means the gathered might of the armies of Romefeller, who would surely be joining Duke Barton's forces soon upon the battlefield.
"Trouble for whom, exactly?" Heero asked cautiously, weighing the strange retinue and judging its implications.
"Where to begin? You've managed to associate the Khushrenada name with murder, boy. Of a cardinal, no less." He sounded more annoyed than outraged.
"I do not claim the Khushrenada name as my own. It's your Church friends there that keep insisting on the association."
"There is some truth to that. Petty politics at play. I've lodged a formal complaint, of course, but..." He shrugged elegantly. "Heero... Yuy, is it? Truly, the best thing you've done to honor the Khushrenada name in some time. I, for one, am glad to finally discard the pretense of brotherhood that Father forced upon us. I resent being obliged to put you down."
"You appear to have allied yourself with the Church. Do you think that honors the Khushrenada name?"
"Whatever do you mean? The Church of Glabados is a respected and well-regarded institution in our fair homeland. But then, you've been declared a heretic, so one can scarcely expect to argue the point with you."
"If refusing to embrace an institution that would manipulate its followers, murder thousands of men, to seize power for itself is heresy..." Heero looked at the knights surrounding them. None of them seemed surprised at all by his accusations, though Une did shift uncomfortably. "Then yes, I would proudly wear the name of heretic. And I think Father would be proud of me."
"Father lacked vision. After the war, he returned home, content to rest upon his hard-won laurels when he should have pressed his advantage. He was offered a permanent seat on Council, and he refused. Refused! I could not even believe such an absurdity could be true until he confirmed it to me. He saved me quite some trouble, falling ill as he did."
Heero stared at him. "You would have killed him?"
"It would have been for the benefit of House Khushrenada," he answered sharply. "For the good of Ivalice. He was ready to fade slowly into retirement, even as new threats were rising to threaten our country's stability."
"The civil unrest? Father didn't believe it was his place as a military man to intervene in domestic troubles."
"An excuse for complacence. Did he imagine the problems would solve themselves? No, it is men with power that solve problems. To have power and refuse to wield it is unconscionable. Better that he yield it to someone with the will to do what must be done."
An awful suspicion crept up within him. He took some strange measure of comfort in the fact that he did not deny the possibility immediately. His old self would never have entertained the thought. "Are you why Father never got better?"
"His time was over. The gods had decreed it. It simply would have taken an abominably long time if those chemists had had their way."
"Lord Treize...," Une murmured behind him, dumbstruck. Her loyalty had always been to Treize first, Khushrenada second, but she would never have been in a position to serve if not for the generosity of the old Duke, and his willingness to offer lowborn people like herself opportunities they would never otherwise have.
Treize raised an eyebrow at her. "Yes, Sir Une?"
She blinked at him once before schooling her expression into one of deference. "It was nothing, Your Grace."
"You intend to kill us?" Heero asked, drawing his attention away from her. There was really little question as to what the answer would be. He didn't think Treize had ever spoken so freely to him in his entire life.
Treize looked at his adjutant for a moment longer before making a dismissive sound and turning back to his prisoners. "Of course," he answered coolly. "You are a symbol of Father's weakness. A man can be forgiven a bastard. Even two. But that he would allow this illegitimate offspring the honor of his name, the privileges of his rank..."
"And what of your bastard child? You would elevate her to Queen."
"She will have the throne by virtue of bloodshed, not birthright. That is all the 'legitimacy' she will need. Though I confess, it would be sweet indeed to see a Khushrenada officially upon the throne. I am certain the Church will be accommodating in amending her lineage."
"Are you certain the Bartons will be equally as accommodating?"
"Duke Barton will be in no position to protest. That arrow is already in flight."
He sounded too smug to be anything other than personally responsible. "Another part of the Church's plot falls into place. You would raise the Khushrenadas by being the Church's errand boy?"
Treize laughed. "You seek to insult me, boy? My own interests happen to align with the Church's at the moment. Nothing more. I can discard the alliance at my convenience."
The Church knight in the party scowled at him. "Duke Khushrenada..."
Treize made a small gesture at the Khushrenada knight next to the Church's man. The House knight, blade already drawn to keep watch over the prisoners, turned with a certain amount of aplomb and cut off any further protest with a slice across the man's throat. Treize tsked. "Fallen in battle against the heretic. Tragic loss."
Heero watched the dead man's blood soak into the dirt. There was something unsettling about it, beyond the man's swift and meaningless execution.
"The Church will no longer be useful to me, soon enough. You, on the other hand, have never been useful to me. Until recently, you were merely harmless. No longer. At least your sister will serve some purpose, but after her task is complete, I can finish erasing the two of --"
Heero stiffened at first mention of his sister. "Where is she!?" he demanded, taking several steps toward his half-brother before being blocked by a spear and a sword. Heero stopped just short of them, but otherwise scarcely seemed to notice the weapons warning him back. His friends automatically moved to support him, but they, too, were under guard. "Where have you taken her?"
Treize watched, unruffled. "Is she really your primary concern at the moment?"
Yes. ...No. A nagging sensation solidified into another terrible conclusion. Treize knew about Sylvia's 'task'. Treize knew, and therefore must be a part of it. "Have you taken a Stone?" he asked hoarsely.
"My, my." Treize was as condescending as ever, but it was at least tinged this time by a whiff of amused respect. "You know quite a bit, don't you? No wonder Dermail was so cagey about you."
It was not a direct admission, but something inside him whispered it was true. "The Stone will destroy you, Treize. Perhaps it already has."
"If by 'destruction' you mean that I have secured power and prestige for my House," he answered mockingly. "Then by all means, let me be destroyed."
Treize reached into the pouch at his belt and pulled out a Zodiac Stone, turning it so its deep blue caught the torchlight. Heero felt it like a weight pushing down on him. "The Leo Stone," Treize said, admiring it. "So much hiding within its depths...."
"Lord Treize...," Une murmured again, though this time her words went unheeded. Heero heard her, though. Their eyes met, and he saw recognition there. He had reported to her the threat these Zodiac Stones presented. He had nearly forgotten. He did not know if she had relayed the information to Treize, or if she had given any further thought to his story after he left, but he could see that she, too, recalled the tale.
"I was told the Stone requires blood and sacrifice to unlock its power," Treize said matter-of-factly. He glanced down at the fallen Church knight and shook his head. "Much more than this little worm could provide."
That was the disquieting feeling from earlier. That had been the man's death feeding the hidden Stone.
Treize pulled his sword and looked at Heero. "Even your death, though it would be satisfying, would be of little use to me. No, if there must be blood and sacrifice..." He turned to the woman standing beside him and slammed his sword into her gut, beneath her breastplate.
"No!" Heero shouted. He rushed forward as if he could somehow stop what had already been done. His guard shoved him back and he stumbled to the ground. Two of the other knights of House Khushrenada also stepped forward in their shock, but one of the Templars growled threateningly at them and they remained silent.
"Then it can only be you, my lady," Treize said softly, looking Une in the eye as she stared wide-eyed and incredulous at him. "Only you, my precious adjutant, are a worthy sacrifice."
She gasped at him, then slumped to the ground as he withdrew his sword.
Heero had fallen in the direction of their surrendered weapons. He dive-rolled toward them while his guard was distracted by the sight of Treize sliding the Stone down the bloody length of his blade, and came up with the closest weapon at hand, Trowa's glaive. A shudder ran down his spine and he knew it was too late. The dark power being invoked touched a chord in him, but it did not knock him to his knees this time. It fueled his anger instead, and his frustrated rage became a battle cry as he attacked, attracting enough attention to give his companions opportunity to break free and re-arm themselves. He stayed just long enough for Trowa to take up his sword before advancing, unable to stop the sapphire light swirling around Treize, but unable to not try.
A knight of House Khushrenada fell before him. Beyond him, he saw another of House Khushrenada make a failed attempt at taking down a Templar. He took heart in knowing that apparently not everyone was okay with this. He picked out his next target, but a throwing star took him in the throat first, and Heero felt the spell of silence shatter.
It was not the first chaotic battlefield he had been in, but perhaps the first where his blood began to sing with a strange combination of rage and joy and calm and anticipation. The Templar in front of him stank with the demon's taint, but he felt himself more powerful. He was hyperaware of each body on the ground, each mote of power that went into feeding the Leo Stone, each tendril that wrapped itself around Treize's soul.
He had worked with Quatre and Sally to shield himself from the dissonance of the dark energy that had weakened and distracted him before, and it seemed to have worked, insofar as he was still standing. But hidden underneath that dissonance was nothing but a clarity so sharp it threatened to cut him open. He knew without taking his eyes off the opponent in front of him that Treize's power was more like that of Trant than fully manifested as was Tsuberov. He felt one of Quatre's protective spells settle over him, and it seemed to only increase the intensity of his focus. As he pushed a House knight off his sword -- when had he reacquired his sword? ah, when he and Trowa had taken out a Templar, there had been a moment in which to switch -- he knew Treize was doing something similar to one of his own House knights, testing out this new power of his curiously.
He knew Wufei needed his assistance because he scented the spilling of his friend's blood somehow, some whiff of essence in the swirls around him. He fell back to cover the mage's flank, and something inside him felt disappointed that he was heading in the wrong direction, moving away from Treize, but no, he was needed here.
But not for too much longer, because soon enough, it was just them left, and Treize smiling at them from across the field. "Was Tsuberov just that incompetent? I am assured he had so much more power than this... and yet he could be defeated by the likes of you."
"Maybe we're just that good, asshole," Duo muttered from somewhere behind him.
"He was a Cardinal, I suppose," Treize continued musing. "Untrained in the ways of war."
"He was not himself in the end," Heero said softly. "He was..." Cúchulainn. The name rose in his memory. Was Treize still himself? He did not want to fight Treize. He was... A mere shadow of Adrammelech. That name also rose to mind unbidden. This mere shadow of Adrammelech could be defeated, as easily as Trant -- no, Belias. Easily? Heero should likely have died in that fight. The strong survive.
Heero shook his head. "Father would grieve to see us so."
"Enough about him! If you miss him so much, you may join him!"
He is not as powerful as he thinks. Not so much blood had been spilled in his favor. Dermail -- Hashmal -- had not done the invoking. To what extent was he just a tool of Dermail's, bought with the promise of power, to further the cause of the demon lord's resurrection? There were five of them, one of him, and they'd done this before.
But Heero had never known Treize to practice any sword techniques, and here now his sword blazed with blue coldfire. Heero felt it yearning toward his warmth whenever their swords met. Which was often. Trowa and Duo tried to take some of the pressure off of him, but Treize came after him with a vengeance, swatting their attacks aside with arcs of frigid flame.
Had they ever crossed blades before? No, Heero had watched Treize at his training in his youth, but Treize would never have deigned to spar with his father's bastard, even had Treize not been nine years his senior. They had not had that sort of relationship. Une, though. She'd had occasion to drop a kind word, offer a bit of advice, when such situations presented themselves, to both him and his sister. Rarely while Treize was watching. Perhaps it was largely because of Une that Heero felt he had any relationship with Treize at all. And now she lay in the dirt, casually sacrificed to Treize's ambition, life seeping slowly out of her. Could he believe that Treize had lacked the resolve to finish her off properly? Or was he too distracted and she too unready to accept her fate?
There was a pause in the fight, each side backing off to take stock. He expected some sneer, some taunt to come his way. He felt Treize's intent, but felt also that Treize was too outraged by the fact that the fight was not yet over to find the words to express it. Treize, whom Heero had seldom witnessed not in control of himself, not disciplined, not dignified. Who had never had any warm feelings toward Heero, true, but for whom this vicious animosity was rather out of character. The power of the Stone was overwhelming that cool veneer of his, amplifying his negative energies, destroying him as Heero had predicted. Though there was blood lust in the air, Heero also felt sorrow.
Treize sought to tap further into the Stone, and the Stone obliged. The sapphire light flared and they were pushed back a step by its intangible force. Treize let out a bark of triumphant laughter and they braced themselves for an attack to come while they were blinded by that light, but the light died as quickly as it had flashed, and when the spots cleared from their vision, they saw Treize slump forward, first to his knees, and then face down in the dirt. The blade driven through him likely did more damage on the way out than it had going in. Behind him, Une managed to prop herself up with her bloodied sword for only a second before collapsing.
Heero ran to her, leaving behind the rush of battle with each step. "Une," he said despairingly, straightening her limbs to help her rest more comfortably. Trowa prodded Treize carefully, but Heero knew Adrammelech had abandoned him, and taken what remaining lifeforce there was with him.
Quatre knelt beside him and laid his hands over the wound in Une's belly. It would take a massive effort to save her, but it could be done.
Une weakly waved him off. "No.... I follow Treize. Who was taken... from me... by that Stone."
Heero nodded gravely, his voice thick with grief. "The demon is gone from his body. He may rest in peace now."
She closed her eyes briefly. "Your father... would indeed... be proud of you."
"As he would be of you. You have honored his confidence in you."
"I do not know what... but he said... we would meet your sister at Orbonne soon."
"Orbonne?" Heero repeated numbly.
"Go. Find her. As I go... to find..."
He shuddered as she drew her last breath.
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This entry was originally posted at https://turnippatch.dreamwidth.org/162330.html.