The Chimera Squad: Part I, Chapter 4 - Resolution (304 hits)
Category: Quotes & StoriesRating: 2 on 3 reviews (Rate this item) (V)
Submitted by a_little_more_time (View user info) at 2005-07-27 04:49:41 EDT
Previous Chapters:
Prologue - Homecoming: http://www.ubersite.com/m/70750
Part I, Chapter 1 - Reintegration: http://www.ubersite.com/m/70948
Part I, Chapter 2 - Regression: http://www.ubersite.com/m/71072
Part I, Chapter 3 - Preparation: http://www.ubersite.com/m/71309
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Lucas rose the next morning before sunrise. The sky was still clear; the day would be cool in the shade but wonderfully warm with the sun on their shoulders. A good day to journey. He began his daily stretches, paying particular attention to his upper body. The last week had noticeably weakened his muscles, and there would be no time to limber up if they reached the next settlement and Israfel was already there.
Thinking of that man, his malignant visage delighting in cruelty as he watched Lenneth Maeda's murder, the freezing sting of his strange, curved blade across his skin, made his blood run cold. There was something at his core that simply was not present in others, and this terrible, unnamed thing seemed to conceal his very humanity. Luc shivered, and not from the temperature in the room.
Presently, he finished his exercises and removed his bandages. The wound was healing nicely; it was still about six inches long, but there was no oozing, which meant that Min had done a good job of keeping it clean. He used the basin of water beside the door and a rag to wash it, then patched it up once more. He dressed and strapped on his weapon, then left and went to wake Min.
Min's room was, as he expected, much more spacious. There was a small stone fireplace in the same wall as the door, and her canopied bed stood opposite it. He approached it quietly and stood over her, pausing. She was snoring slightly, dozing on her side, curled up somewhat. Luc took a deep breath and let it out slowly. This girl was an innocent up until a week ago, when the fading beast War managed yet another death throe and consumed someone close to her.
Perhaps the War was not truly over, as he had once thought. It was possible that the seven years of conflict before this point was simply the first step in a much greater period of discord. If that was the case, then was his role as a soldier really finished? He could not answer this question, and the fact that he could not terrified him even more than the notion of a soldier dragging an innocent woman, his friend, into danger.
Luc reached down, placed a hand on Min's shoulder, and shook her gently. She awoke with a start. He smiled down at her. "Min, it's time to go."
She rubbed her eyes blearily, sat up and mumbled, "Okay."
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An hour later, everything was ready. Min had prepped the horses the evening before, so all they needed to do was dress and leave.
The air was, as Lucas had predicted, still unseasonably chilled. He had pulled on the issued coat the military had allowed him to keep, and his companion had wisely chosen a simple cotton dress and a vest. She climbed nimbly atop her mount and checked the straps on her bags. "You're sure you're okay to ride?" she asked, concerned.
It was a small struggle to get into the saddle, but he managed to make it look fairly easy. He straightened himself. "It's no problem." He reached into his own belongings and withdrew the map, studied it for a moment, then pointed in a general direction perpendicular to the main road. "We'll head this way. If we stay off the path, we'll make better time and keep ourselves more concealed." With that, he replaced the map and started forward.
They rode for a few minutes in silence, leaving the town behind and keeping the road in sight. The sun had just begun to rise when Min could not contain the question that had been brewing in her since her friend had returned. She spoke with more than a small amount of temerity. "Luc...can you tell me about the last battle?"
The inquiry was so unexpected that he nearly fell off his steed. It took him a moment to recover before he could respond. "You...want to know about the Battle of Olavan Province? Why?"
She blinked in surprise to his response. "I'm curious as to what happened. I'd heard reports from Father that Nanten should've won."
Lucas was silent for a moment, only the slow hooves on the dirt filling the air as they continued on. When he spoke, his tone seemed far away, as though his very being were traveling backward in time and space to that terrible day. "Your father was right. Given all the advantages we possessed at the outset of the fighting, we should have crushed them. We had the high ground and significantly outnumbered them."
"So...what happened?"
He shook his head. "I don't know. When we charged them, the Hokuten split their ranks and we flanked them. That should have been the end, but...somehow, they experienced a resurgence. Whether it was of morale or reinforcements, I'll never be certain, but before I realized it, my squad and I were overrun with Hokuten."
"Your squad?"
He nodded, indicating a small symbol on the left arm of his coat. "I was a sergeant. Ten other men under my command." He smiled sadly. "I saw eight of them die that day. They'd served with me for three years, and we'd walked away from every battle until that one. Hardly ever even a scratch." He chuckled once. "If they'd survived just one more..." He trailed off, shaking his head. "What does it matter?"
Min looked to her hands. "I...I'm so sorry, Luc." She paused as though in thought, then spoke again. "It was wrong of me to get angry with you the other night, when you talked about the end of the War." She glanced back at him. "You cared for them, obviously."
He looked beyond her, his face expressionless. "I was their sergeant. They were my responsibility; it was my duty to keep them safe, and I failed."
Min rode closer to him and put a hand on his shoulder. "The way you speak, it sounds as though you blame yourself for something you had already done everything you could to prevent. If you were a failure, they wouldn't have survived as long as they had, isn't that so?"
He lowered his head and closed his eyes, shrugging his shoulders so her hand slid off. "Whether that is the case or not, it still happened. They are still dead, and I am not required to be comfortable with that fact."
She nodded, although she sounded a little hurt. "You're right, of course."
He took a breath and continued his story. "Regardless, after that I couldn't look at the War, Igros, or Nanten the same way anymore. The entire conflict had been meaningless; the only person who gained from it was the King, and the two nations were nothing but odious, contemptible bodies who willingly threw their sons' lives away and tortured and slew other human beings in the name of some abstract ideal." He spat, as though to emphasize his feelings on the matter.
To this, Min could say nothing, nothing to comfort or reassure him, and so she was silent.
Luc's eyes narrowed slightly. This was not the time to allow his emotions to get the better of him. There would be plenty of that when he caught Brenner and Israfel. He turned back to speak to Min. "Let's not spare the horses anymore. Every moment we dawdle allows the enemy to get farther away. Move out!" The term passed his lips before he even realized it. The knowledge that the last time Sgt. Lucas Hawthorne had ever uttered those words was when he had led his men into that great riot of blood and steel went unnoticed as he spurned his mount onward.
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At midday, Lucas noticed a small grouping of buildings off in the distance when they had stopped to rest the horses and eat. "A settlement," he muttered to his friend, taking the small spyglass from his eye and placing it back in his bag.
Min looked up from her bread, speaking around a mouthful. "Really?" She stood and walked to him.
He pointed in its general direction. "If we hurry, we should make it before sundown."
Min brushed off her dress and began to pack up the food. "Is that wise? We don't want to run the horses down. If they've already been there..."
He shook his head, and took a swallow of water from his skin. "No," he said, wiping his mouth. "They'll come after sundown and try to take them off-guard, and...if they'd already come and gone, the buildings wouldn't still be standing." He cast her a glance from the corner of his eye. "Igros hates to leave witnesses or survivors."
With that, the pair mounted the beasts once more and rode as though hell itself were snapping at their heels.
They arrived, as Lucas had predicted, before the sun had fallen beneath the horizon. A scout, scarcely into his manhood years, with sandy hair and a hardened face, greeted them. In his hands he tightly gripped a scythe. "Halt." He raised a hand. "Identify yourselves, and state your business."
Lucas indicated himself with a finger and spoke with a clarity and authority that was utterly foreign to Min. "Former Sergeant Lucas Hawthorne, Nanten Army, 38th Regiment." He pointed to his companion. "This is Summoner Min Maeda. We both hail from Tillman's Village, a neighboring settlement."
The fact that Min truly now was the religious figure for her hometown had never truly dawned on her until that moment. She wondered with more than a small amount of concern how well her friends would fare without her services.
"And why have you come here, Sergeant?" the scout asked, his words dripping with impetuousness.
Lucas looked him square in the eye and saw him for what he was: a boy placed in a man's shoes, given a tool approximating a weapon and filled with the idea that his position offered him a certain amount of authority. He'd seen it a thousand times, and he prayed that this place was not populated with more of his kind. They wouldn't stand a chance if that were the case. He spoke evenly once more. "Have you a Summoner here, boy?"
The scout did not answer immediately, but he eventually backed down after a signal tense heartbeat. "Aye, we do."
Lucas slid off from his horse, holding on to the reins. "We require an audience with them at once. We have information regarding a great deal of imminent danger they and this entire settlement may be in."
The boy's eyes widened a bit. These words seemed to have quite a bit of impact coming from a man wearing the insignia of the Nanten Army. He turned and motioned them to follow. "This way."
He led them into the settlement toward a home at the end slightly larger than the rest. Lucas noticed with a degree of relief that the Summoner's home was located at the end point of a horseshoe, formed by the rest of the buildings on either side. Anyone caught between it and a suitably sized force would have nowhere to run.
A small, mousey woman answered the scout's knock. She looked at him, then the visiting pair, then back to him. "Daniel, what's going on?" she asked, obviously worried.
Lucas began to speak, but Min put a gentle hand on his to stop him and stepped forward. "Sister Summoner," she began, with a welcoming smile on her face. "May we come inside?"
She still looked confused, but stepped aside to allow them access. Min began. "Sister Summoner, this is the situation..."
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Summoner Treste's hands were shaking with such force that she could scarcely put her cup of tea back on the saucer. "And...you believe these men are headed here?"
Luc nodded once. "That is correct, Mistress Summoner. They are undoubtedly bent on destroying all religions within this territory whose beliefs differ with those of the Queen Mother, and to do that, they must strike Vaelen City. I have every faith that they will stop at every settlement along the way and slay any Summoner they find."
Their hostess sat back heavily in her high-backed chair. "What are we to do...?"
Lucas leveled his gaze at her. "We have no intention of allowing these men to take any more innocent lives, Mistress Summoner. As you can understand, we also have our own reasons to want to end their lives, as well."
Treste nodded slowly, but the worry did not fade from her eyes. "But you are only two, and there are no trained soldiers here."
He shook his head. "There doesn't need to be. The way this village is shaped gives us a distinct advantage, as does the fact that they will not be expecting us here." He looked down. "Regrettably...I do not think we can stop them without the help of the people here."
Min leaned forward. "Do you think you can marshal them to our aid?"
Treste swallowed hard. "We are few here, but...these are strong men and women, and they will fight anyone looking to change their way of life." She nodded, and seemed to recover a small bit of confidence. "I shall do my utmost to convince them to help you."
Lucas rose and the women followed suit. "Gather them and inform them of the situation. If they agree, I'll tell them the plan."
"What if they don't agree?"
He had already started for the door. "...Then I suppose she and I will do all the fighting."
Treste looked doubtfully at Min, but the resolve that had hardened her features told the older Summoner that the soldier's words were truthful. She took a deep breath, let it out, then started for the door.
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Within the hour, Treste had organized the people of the village and joined them in the center of town. Amidst grumbles about it being dinnertime, Lucas and Min joined their hostess in the middle of the clutch of citizens and waited for them to settle before speaking.
The local Summoner laid it all out for them. Lucas was pleased with their response; few of them seemed afraid or concerned with their safety. Instead, they were itching to fight, to send a message to Igros that they had no intention of bending to its rule. His confidence boosted, the former soldier stepped forward to speak. "We have a plan," he said loudly, looking around at them. He took a deep breath.
"These men will not be expecting an entire village worth of resistance, particularly if it strikes all at once. If we organize, given the shape of this settlement, we can take them quickly and without loss."
There was a significant silence before a single voice rang out. "What do you have in mind?"
"The simplest way to catch them by surprise is to feign compliance. When they ride in here and demand an audience with the Summoner, we allow it. Only when her life is in immediate danger do we strike."
Lucas was instantly assaulted with protest from all sides. "You're asking to put our Summoner in jeopardy when they have already killed at least one? Are you mad?"
Min quickly leapt to his defense, raising her hands in supplication, her voice soothing and even. "As a fellow Summoner, I can assure you that no harm will come to Mistress Treste." She indicated Luc. "This man is a soldier, a commander. His plan is sound." The townspeople's voices subsided at once, and she continued. "The good Summoner will ensure her own safety by providing the signal to act. When she believes her time is nearly up, she will shine a light over her head, and we shall put the plan into action."
Lucas began again. "You will be split into two groups. The first group will be small, no more than ten. Their role will be to spirit Summoner Treste from harm the moment the signal is given. You will be hidden in those two houses, there." He indicated one home on each side of Treste's dwelling. "Who are the fastest runners here?" Several young men and women raised their hands. Lucas nodded. "Very well."
"The second group will be composed of everyone else. Your role will be to kill the Hokuten soldiers as quickly as possible. You will wait for the signal in these homes, then rush out and box them in." He pointed to a pair of makeshift shacks on both sides of the town, then looked around once more. "Now...these men are well trained and will likely be on horseback, so a swift, concentrated attack is crucial. However, they are not heavily armored, so any sharp or sturdy tools you have will suffice for weapons."
His voice became grave. "It is absolutely imperative that not one of them escape and survive to inform Igros of the situation. A vanished squad in newly acquired territory is nothing unusual, so the Throne will not take any action. Is that understood?" A small series of nods gave him his answer.
"Min and myself will be part of the attack group. We'll do everything we can to support you, but we can't be everywhere at once. Just remember that."
He closed his eyes to give his last order. "One final thing. If a man with long blond hair and an unusual sword is among them, you are to take no action against him. He is more than a match for any number of you, so I suggest you remain as far away from him as possible. All right?" Another set of nods.
His own head bobbed in response. "Good." He looked around once more. "Then let's prepare and get in position. They should be here soon." With that, the group split up. Lucas followed Min into the same house with a handful of villagers.
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It took only an hour or so of lying in wait before their patience and preparation were rewarded. After the sun had set, half a dozen lights were sighted moving toward the settlement. Lucas wasn't sure if he'd been the first to notice them, but he was again reassured by the villagers' composure; even as the familiar riders made their way into the town, no movement or sound was made.
Lucas watched, heart in his throat, as they passed by. He recognized Brenner as the man leading them.
"Where's Israfel?" Min whispered in his ear. He merely shook his head in response. He wasn't there; in all likelihood, the bastard was still recuperating, and unable to join the others. That suited Luc just fine.
The Hokuten approached Treste's home. Lucas drew his sword quietly as they pounded on her door, and peeked out to watch as the Summoner left her home. His muscles tensed, watching their mouths move but hearing nothing but the blood pounding in his head. This was it. The same feeling he'd had on every battlefield, moments before the charge was sounded; anticipation mixed with exhilaration, eagerness for the slaughter to begin. His mouth watered.
Suddenly, Treste's entire body was illuminated with soft light. She could've served as a beacon to ships near a coastline; instead, she was the ignition when Lucas exploded out of the shack, hurtling full tilt, sword already raised and lips twisted into a mixture of a sneer and a grim smile. The last image he had of the Summoner was of her being pulled from the reach of Brenner by four or five swiftly moving figures.
Before he even reached his target, he felt his hair stand on end as the air around him crackled with a familiar energy. Behind him, thin arcs of lightning leapt from Min's fingertips and struck the soldier nearest him. The Hokuten private gyrated wildly, his weapon falling from his twitching fingertips. He tumbled from his mount, smoke billowing from his body. Lucas' nostrils were filled with the pungent aroma of burnt hair and charred flesh as he rushed past.
Reaching his target, Luc jumped into the air and swung his blade laterally, knocking him from his horse and cleaving through his armor. Standing triumphantly over the fallen soldier, Lucas raised his weapon and brought it down, hewing through flesh and bone and removing the head.
Behind him, the villagers were closing the gap precisely as planned. They remained tightly knit, barring any escape, then advanced forward, pressing the Hokuten into an increasingly confined space and slaying any that attempted to break free.
Lucas was struggling though the melee, attempting to reach Brenner, who was alternating between panicked self-preservation and bellowing orders to his disoriented men. He was within spitting distance when another Hokuten stepped in his path. Luc ran him through the abdomen before he had a chance to act.
He tore his sword free from the body and blood fountained from its midsection, splashing him across the face. As he turned, teeth bared and weapon raised to repel an incoming attack, something caught his eye. About ten yards off, standing well outside the chaos of writhing and screaming forms, stood a lone figure. It was difficult to make out, but it was not moving, and Lucas managed a heartbeat's worth of a good look. The outline was undecidedly human, but, bizarre though it was to imagine, it appeared to be entirely composed of thick, black smoke. The moment came and went, and when Lucas looked back upon realizing what he believed he had seen, it was gone.
He had no time to consider this. He bum rushed Brenner, catching him off guard, and slammed the hilt of his sword into the side of his head using both hands. The heavyset man dropped instantly to the ground, unconscious. Lucas turned once more, only to see a few riderless horses, five fallen soldiers bearing the Hokuten crest upon their armor, and a sizeable group of villagers with tools and makeshift weapons raised, cheering.
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Lucas tossed the bucketful of ice-cold water onto Brenner's inert body. When this received no response, he walked into the small hut, stood over him, lifted him up by his collar and began slapping him savagely until the Hokuten sergeant coughed once, sputtered, then opened his eyes. Luc's smile was filled with malice. "Welcome back, Sergeant Brenner."
The burly hulk struggled to move only to find that his arms and feet had been bound with thick, rough rope. He grit his teeth, then spat in Luc's face. "What in blazes do you want with me, you Nanten farm boy?"
Still keeping the same smile, he wiped his cheek with one hand, crouched and drew the knife in his belt. "I want answers from you, you waste of life. I expect you'll be forthcoming, given your situation, but..." He placed the tip of the blade to Brenner's unshaven throat. "...personally, I'm hoping you won't be. Now, you'll tell me what I want to know, or I'll start severing things not necessary to your immediate survival, and I should warn you: I'm fairly skilled with tourniquets." He took a breath. "Where is Israfel?"
Brenner scoffed. "You're wasting your time. Igros trains us to withstand torture and interrogation. I'm not telling you a thing."
Lucas leaned in until he was mere centimeters from his face and grinned wider. "How fortunate for me. I get to hurt an Igros officer." He reached up and sliced off Brenner's left ear with one swift stroke. The howl of pain and fear told him that he would not need to expect any further resistance. He smiled again and spoke as Brenner attempted to regain his breath. "Now, I'll ask you again, and if you give me trouble this time, I'll make you useless to a woman. Where is Israfel?"
The officer was forced to speak through gasps. "He is...en route to...Vaelen."
"How many men are under his command?"
"One hundred Hokuten. No conscripts."
"How far away?"
"Three days' march."
"And he intends to destroy the monastery there, correct?"
"That was our assignment."
Lucas paused, then beamed amicably and leaned back, wiping the knife on Brenner's clothes and sheathing it. "Much obliged, Sgt. Brenner," Lucas said happily, rising to his feet. He dusted off his hands. "Now that that messy business is behind us, I have a friend here who wants very much to meet you." He walked to the door and opened it. Through it strode a tall and fairly trim female figure. As she drew closer, the fearful recognition on his face told them that he knew her. "I see that she needs no introduction. That's good; I'd hate to get between you two." He stepped to the exit and stood in the doorframe.
His visage turned to that of supplication, almost begging. "I-It's you...! You must be the daughter of that other Summoner!" He attempted to back away slightly. "H-Hey, look, I'm sorry about your mum, but I was just following orders, you know? Can't blame a man for following orders, right?"
Min was silent for a moment, folding her arms and then leaning against the wall of the shack. Her gaze turned from Brenner to her companion and spoke, her voice quiet and somber. "You said you wouldn't harm him. He's missing an ear."
Luc's response was equally morose. "I also said our policy is not to torture or otherwise harm war prisoners. You're lucky I'm making this exception for you. Rest assured I won't be doing so again. Now, make it quick. You heard how far away Israfel is."
Min nodded. "Yes, sir." With that, Lucas stepped outside and closed the door slowly behind him.
He leaned against the outside wall as he listened to Brenner's pathetic pleas for mercy. They were suddenly cut short by Min's voice, which had suddenly grown booming and terrible as they intoned something in another language. The wood of the shack groaned and shook with the very force of her words, but they did not manage to drown out his sudden, violent scream, which was quickly reduced to a strangled gurgle, then nothing at all.
After a moment, Min emerged. Her hair was disheveled, and her body seemed to have the faintest glow about it. Simply being near her made the hair on Luc's neck stand on end once again, as though she were exuding Magical energy. Her eyes closed. "Don't you want to look and see what I did to him?"
Luc simply shook his head. "I don't think I need to. What I heard was enough."
She looked to him from the corner of her eye. "What I will do to Israfel will make Brenner's fate seem merciful."
He nodded. "I know. And I'll be there to see that he doesn't escape."
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Out of gratitude for their aid, the townsfolk had managed to clear a small but comfortable room in one of the earthen homes near the entrance to the settlement to serve as lodging for the night. It didn't have much, but there were two beds and a fireplace, which was all that mattered to the pair.
They dressed for bed facing away from one another, Lucas merely stripping to his shorts and changing his shirt. Min slipped on a warm nightgown after removing her dress. As he climbed into bed, she strode across the room and stood before him, a quietly severe look set upon her face.
His brow furrowed in confusion. "Min...is something wrong...?"
Before he could react, she stumbled forward and threw her arms around him, pulling herself into him. For a minute, she was silent, but after a few breaths he could hear her sobbing quietly. "Lucas," she whispered, sniffing and hiccupping. "Thank you...thank you so much..."
Without thinking, Luc put one arm around his friend, then used his free hand to gently stroke her hair to calm her. "Min...it's okay." His eyes closed. "I'm glad...that I could help you, and...I promise I'll be there for you when you need me, down the road."
She held on a bit tighter with his words.
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"He that studieth revenge keepeth his own wounds green, which otherwise would heal and do well."
-John Milton
[To be continued...]
User Reviews
Submitted by rad1101 (user info) at 2005-07-29 03:22:31 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
All the good stuff gets ignored.
try http://www.pulsehead.com for some real storywriting.
Submitted by a_little_more_time (user info) at 2005-07-27 05:25:16 EDT (#)
Ranking: 0
Great and Honourable Ducky,
I haven't been able to find the source of that particular Milton quote, however I've cross-referenced it on ten websites and the five quotations books I have, and they all attribute it to him. I have reason to believe either that it is a massively misreferenced quote, or that its particular Miltonian source is unknown.
Submitted by Ducky (user info) at 2005-07-27 05:16:19 EDT (#)
Ranking: 2
Awesome writing. What is that quote an excerpt from? I studied Milton for a year; it's familiar but I can't put my finger on it.