Kellehendros
Eternal Wanderer
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"That's almost suicidal, my pupil. What if they don't listen to you?"
As the saviour spoke to Ishia, he couldn't hide the hint of amusement his voice carried with it. He knew that his pupil wouldn't change her mind, and he agreed that something had to be done. The Alliance was likely to lose, and how well the commanders worked together would only determine when. The girl picked up this amusement, and answered accordingly. The man was probably more of a paternal figure to her than her own father ever was.
"Even if I didn't plan on leaving the Alliance, I want to see more of the Alquen fortress. And if I don't come back, there's you. As much of an icon as I may be, you still are the one behind it all. I see the same burning determination I possess in my fellow soldiers' eyes, and you could lead them just as well as me."
The man laughed heartily, as he always did. Such jovial manners only confused Ishia even more on the man's true identity. He had saved her country from a ruinous dictatorship, and no citizen knew his name. Even the contraptions he built retained mysterious until he explained their purposes to the Zarans. The man was like a book written in a language that nobody in the world had seen until then.
"I'll just ask you to go to the strategizing tent in my place; I trust your excuse for my absence will be convincing enough."
The man replied, smiling. He silently approved of how confident Ishia had become. She had gone a long way since her childhood.
"Aye, my pupil. I'd tell you to be careful, but your plan is reckless in its very nature. Make sure to come back on your own legs."
Ishia stood from her chair, picked up her headgear, and bowed to her master one last time before she left. "Inform the men as to my whereabouts. If anyone disagrees with the fact that Zara will join the Imperium's side, change their mind or make sure they keep their mouth shut. Permanently, if you have to."
The girl's behaviour might've seemed cruel to an outside observer, but the truth was that Zara had been a fragmented country until recently. Many connected regions lost almost all contact with each other, and the various communities remained isolated until the nation was unified again. Ishia's troops were from every corner of the small nation, since her teacher had traveled all over the country, recruiting whoever accepted his training. While he knew every single infiltrator under Ishia's command personally, his apprentice only had the chance to meet them when they met to travel to Gripclaw Pass. Ishia warmed up to people that she had the time to get to know properly, and that hadn’t been the case with her subordinates.
The red-haired prodigy stopped by her tent to stash her weapons and headgear, as carrying any of those would've only made Domrius' sentries sure that she wasn't approaching the enemy camp peacefully. She wore nothing but her armor and a tattered cloak. Her head was left exposed, making her easily recognizable.
As she exited her tent, she whistled a recognizable call. But a few seconds later, one of Ishia's soldiers approached her. She talked at him in a stern voice, giving a simple order.
"Make sure that nobody enters this tent until I'm back. Our saviour will give you further orders if needed, but do not let anybody that isn't a Zaran inside my tent."
Ishia turned and briskly began walking towards the path she and Ytha had taken but a few hours earlier, fully conscious of the fact that this could be her last day.
***
Daylight had waned since the infiltrators had first attempted scouting Domrius' camp, making it even easier for Ishia to find her way back to the Imperium's fortress. Surrendering herself at the outpost would've been entirely pointless, and she snuck past it. Reaching the vantage point on the camp again, she took the path that would've led her down to a gate on the side of the camp. She walked until the sentries on the walls took notice of her, and then raised her hands to the side of her head to indicate she was unarmed.
"I come in peace, to speak with your leader."
Somewhat surprisingly, after a short conference between the men she had presented herself to and the captain of the guard, Ishia was taken not to the bailey in the midst of the timber fortress, but rather to one of the anonymous tents in the sea of crimson fabric that filled the interior space of the makeshift fortress. The tent was the same as all the rest, with nothing to set it apart from any other soldier’s dwelling in the camp. It was no larger, no more elaborate, it did not even have a guard outside.
Within, seated at a camp table on a folding stool, a man she could only conclude was Domrius, scratching away at a stack of parchments with a quill pen. A step behind him waited a man in armor, helmet tucked under one arm, staring balefully at Ishia as the guards explained what had happened. Through it all, Domrius continued to write, seeming to ignore the entire explanation being offered. At length the armored man nodded, and then looked to Domrius, awaiting some indication or word on his part. Nothing was forthcoming, and the man huffed a sigh, waving the guards out. “I’ll watch her, back to your posts.”
The guards took their leave, leaving Ishia alone with Domrius and the armored man. Silence reigned, broken only by the scratching of quill across paper. Eventually, Domrius returned the quill to the inkwell, sprinkling sand over the ink to dry it, and carefully setting the parchment aside. If Ishia had hopes that this might mean it was, at last, time for her audience, her hopes were likely dashed. Domrius simply lifted another parchment from the clean stack before him, placing it in the center of the table, taking up the quill, and beginning to write again.
This continued through one parchment, and then another, as the minutes wore on interminably, and the armored man continued to glare at Ishia. When Domrius finally spoke, without looking up from his work, it may have come almost as a surprise. “They’re notifications to the families of the fallen. Those from Alquen, at least,” he explained without being asked. “Rapheel is of the opinion I should delegate the task.” He is silent for a moment, and then continues, “but I have sent these men to their deaths, and I owe it to their memories to tell those they have left behind how it happened, even if I cannot tell them the why of it.”
More silence then, punctuated only by the scratching of the quill. “The Lion has sixteen Claws,” Domrius said suddenly, a statement that likely holds no meaning for Ishia. “I know them all, by their bearing, the manner in which they speak, the way that they move, no matter how they should try to disguise themselves. That is my gift. You are not one of them.” It would seem the man was watching, for all that he seemed to be intent on his work. At long last, he set the quill aside, looking up at Ishia, his mismatched blue and green eyes startling. “And if you are not a Claw sent to censure me, and you are not one of my men, and you are not of the auxiliaries, then you are from the Alliance.”
The armored man, Rapheel perhaps, drew his sword, though he made no move towards Ishia. Domrius gave no notice to the gesture, though the ring of steel was audible enough. “Tell me, what do you hope to accomplish here?
Under any other circumstance, Ishia would’ve furiously rebelled against being handled by enemy soldiers. Though she appreciated unarmed contact with enemy soldiers rather little, she was glad that she hadn’t been immediately killed off. She was rather surprised by the fact that she was being led to an anonymous tent, but perhaps it was a particular that helped her find out more about Domrius before she met him in person.
She walked silently as the guards escorted her, the feeling of being left weaponless among potential enemies never ceasing to cause her discomfort. This left her absent-minded when the guards finally turned to a particular tent, and she almost walked past where she needed to stop. Two men were already inside the tent, though it was obvious which one was the subordinate. Assuming that Domrius was the blond-haired man, she began observing him closely. Externally, he seemed rather unfit for combat, and the armored man behind him served as his protection.
Ishia was rather surprised by what followed: Domrius’ quill never stopped while he listened to the guard captain’s tale, though it was the other man who answered for him. The girl quickly discarded the idea of the general being deaf, else the guards wouldn’t have wasted their time talking to him.
“I’ll watch her, back to your posts.”
Confident. If I was carrying a hidden weapon, I would have ample time to kill Domrius before he would have the time to react. Am I allying myself with fools?
The infiltrator didn’t dare break the silence that took over the tent after the wall sentries left, and didn’t want to. There was something strangely relaxing in the atmosphere, though she wasn’t in the least dangerous of places. Domrius, if it really was him, already turned out to be quite an interesting figure.
The girl hoped that the man in the background would be held in check by his superior, as he seemed a peril to her life, even if she approached the camp peacefully. Ishia had never been known for her patience, but she didn’t mind waiting for as long as she did in her enemy’s company. Domrius’ mesmerizing pen really was greater than the man’s holstered sword.
The quiet was finally broken when Domrius himself spoke, explaining his work. The armed man’s baleful gaze was cast off by Ishia after she briefly returned the stare: the figure was merely doing his job as the guard to his superior.
Domrius charmed Ishia more and more as he continued revealing himself as a character to the girl. She felt drawn to him, even going as far as questioning if she had been on the wrong side of the fight since the very beginning. As the breeze gently moved her braid, she still restrained herself from speaking unless she was given permission by the writer. Domrius finally set his quill aside and addressed Ishia directly, looking up at her. His heterochromia momentarily startled Ishia, but it became to her just another interesting detail about the man shortly after.
“And if you are not a Claw sent to censure me, and you are not one of my men, and you are not of the auxiliaries, then you are from the Alliance.” The armed figure drew his sword as his commander finished talking, an action that left Ishia confused. She avoided reacting, as it could’ve caused the man to attack her directly. “Tell me, what do you hope to accomplish here?”
Ishia finally did what she had come to do: make her offer to Domrius. The fate of Zara would be decided that fateful night. “Your deduction is correct, Domrius. I’m Ishia Rinchen, and I represent the consortium of my country, Zara. Though we have begun this confrontation on opposite sides, I have determined that the Alliance won’t benefit my nation’s interests. I am the head of a team of fourteen, myself included, elite infiltrators.”
With the basic introduction out of the way, Ishia was free to speak in greater detail about the terms of the pact she was looking to establish with Domrius. Her thoughts briefly moved over to the fact that just a few hours earlier she thought she would be cut down before having a chance to speak. “I have come to offer you and the Alquen empire my country’s allegiance, both on this battlefield and outside of it, that my country be regarded as an ally and spared from military invasion. Should you accept, I will act on your orders alone: whether you would want me to join this camp or act as a spy among the forces of the Alliance. A more complete agreement could be established after my allies’ inevitable defeat.”
The girl paused, briefly considering what else had to be said. There really was something that attracted her to the man she was speaking to, though she couldn’t explain it even to herself. “Accept these terms, and I will be loyally sworn to your command. I promise that nothing inside your enemies’ camp shall remain a secret to you. Me and my troops will be your eyes, your ears, and an extension of your will.”
The infiltrator spoke her last words, and awaited an answer from the writer.
Domrius gave no outward sign of emotion as Ishia spoke, watching the young woman with resumed silence as she laid out her request. He shifted back slightly, hands resting palms down on the table before him as he considered Ishia. The silence stretched, nowhere near so long as it had previously, but it was perhaps more uncomfortable for Ishia due to the quiet scrutiny of Domrius’ mismatched eyes.
“You have the gift of patience.” He picked up the quill, twirling it once in what seemed a habitual gesture before drawing another parchment onto the table before himself. “I find it often comes with the gift of silence, and the wisdom of silence is discretion.” Dipping his quill into the inkwell, Domrius applied it to the paper, starting to write again. “It shall be as you wish, but know this: I shall show no mercy to you and yours upon the field. To do so would reveal our agreement, and then I think your erstwhile Allies should make short work of you and your fourteen infiltrators. I will take the Pass, one way or another. You can provide your assessment of the Alliance’s current disposition and capabilities to Rapheel.” The armored man grimaced, sheathing his sword and moving forward to escort Ishia from the tent, though he paused as Domrius spoke again. “Oh, and Lady Rinchen, the next time you want a uniform, I would suggest pilfering the laundress’ pile. Bodies are so messy to dispose of.”
Ishia found the wait before Domrius’ decision far more unsettling than his examining gaze. Her heart was beating strongly, something she hated. No matter how it went, though, Domrius would have gained an advantage over the Alliance: if he accepted, he would gain a new ally among the ranks of his enemy, and if he refused he still would’ve had a perfect chance to eliminate one of the opposing commanders.
As the man’s quill gracefully began moving again, he finally gave his answer. Ishia was anxious to know her and her country’s fate.
“You have the gift of patience. I find it often comes with the gift of silence. The wisdom of silence is discretion.”
Thanks for the compliment, but I’d rather hear what you’ve decided. I didn’t put my life in your hands just to have my patience praised.
Still, once Domrius continued, Ishia was overjoyed, though she tried her best not to show it. The man still proved to be cold in her regards, but she hoped to change that by proving herself useful to his cause. Though she wouldn’t immediately admit it to herself, she wanted to get closer to Domrius. Other than for personal interest, it would also be a way to make sure she wouldn’t be discarded after the Alliance was dealt with.
Rapheel finally sheathed his weapon and moved towards the girl, though his movement was interrupted by a remark Domrius made. Ishia answered in a tone of voice that betrayed how pleased she was that Domrius had agreed to forge a secret alliance with her, and nodded sarcastically. “I will keep that in mind, milord. You won’t regret accepting my offer.”
The infiltrator allowed herself to be led outside, staying by Rapheel’s side as he moved. She would have rather revealed the ins and outs of the Alliance’s camp directly to Domrius, but he was understandably busy. Two of the men he would have to write a letter for were killed by a direct order of hers. Nevertheless, she’d begin to prove her usefulness to Alquen’s cause immediately that night.
Ishia asked a question to her escort just as they both left Domrius’ tent. Her voice went back to a more neutral tone, as she had no feelings for the man. Both the infiltrator and the commander were now just intent on carrying out their duty. “Before I begin sharing information, may I ask if there are others among the Alliance who secretly serve Alquen? My efficiency would no doubt increase if I could coordinate my efforts with them. I also suggest that you take us some place shielded from the night’s cold breeze, as I have a great amount of information to share.”
Rapheel escorted Ishia out of the tent, pausing for a moment and scrutinizing the young woman. His eyes were devoid of emotion, but for a faint thread of buried suspicion. At length he grunted, leading Ishia down several rows of tents and conducting her into another, his own, presumably, judging by the empty armor stand and weapon rack. There was little to commend the space but for a cot, a small trunk, and a camp stool.
The soldier motioned Ishia to the stool, taking a seat on the trunk and looking at her. “I am sure that it would, were there one.” He said in answer to the question she had voiced earlier. “My Lord Domrius could take the pass if he wished, but desires to undermine the Alliance’s defense to prevent losses to his own force. He knows that once he wins the pass he will have to face whatever army the Alliance can field.” That it was a lie, perhaps Ishia could tell, but there was wisdom in keeping that conclusion to herself, seeing as she was in the middle of Alquen’s camp and unarmed.
Ishia wished that Rapheel had immediately answered her question, rather than simply scrutinizing her further and then leading her to another tent among the crimson sea. The suspicion the young woman saw in his eyes was expected and accepted. It was obvious she still had to earn trust from her new allies. She couldn’t help but think that any would-be assassins would have their work cut out for them to go and find a target among such a number of tents. The girl loyally followed the armored man as he moved to a different tent.
The infiltrator had no doubt that the living area she was led to belonged to the man she followed, as it fit his characters so well. There was nothing more than two racks, one for weapons and the other for armor, and the most basic furniture. Ishia sat on the stool she was motioned to, sitting with her arms crossed. The man found his own seat and answered her previous question, while Ishia thought of any useful secrets about the Alliance she could reveal to Alquen. Her memory was well practiced after the numberless reconnaissance missions she had undertaken. She was trained at remembering even the slightest of details if they could somehow prove useful.
While the man’s answer wasn’t what Ishia wanted to hear, she nodded, making it look as best as she could that she sincerely believed the man. Of course you wouldn’t immediately reveal things like that to me. For all you know, I could just feed you lies and then escape with in-depth information about this camp. I wonder just how hard earning your trust will be? I’ll just have to learn if there are any other traitors myself, until you deem me “worthy.” You are smarter than you look, Rapheel.
Confident that the wealth of information she could provide was enough for the day, Ishia spoke. It was the first step towards earning Domrius’ trust. “My troops officially joined the Alliance after the first day of fighting, somewhat limiting my knowledge of the events of that day. Regardless, I studied who I would be siding with before I reached the Pass myself.”
Ishia paused and took a deep breath, as she would be talking for quite a long while. She hoped that the man’s memory was capable enough to not forget anything she told him; the girl hated repeating herself. “The Alliance holds a council between commanders the morning before a fight, daily. I’ll begin from what I’ve learned since the first assembly I joined. First of all, the Alliance still is a very much a fragmented coalition: the commanders often contradict each other during the assemblies, leading to infighting. Namely, just half the commanders agreed to giving me freedom of action.”
Ishia had no problem recalling the first council. Mindless brutes comprised most of the Alliance’s forces, and she despised that kind of man. They were all brawn and no brains, completely unable to work with others efficiently. “A shining example are the Varan: they didn’t take part in the most recent battle because of an internal power struggle. I don’t yet know the outcome, but they merely sent a low-ranking man to represent them at the council. The Thanisgardian commander also revealed the exact number of troops he was granted by his kingdom: three hundred, specializing in almost every kind of cavalry. He even lamented that he was given half as many troops as he requested, and has sent a letter to his commanding authorities to ask for more reinforcements. I do not know how many casualties he has suffered, but he has, by far, the largest number of troops in the Alliance. All the other commanders range from fifty to about a hundred and fifty troops.”
My early observation of the Alliance’s camp really has turned out to be profitable. If I didn’t have this much precious information to share, earning Alquen’s trust would be much harder.
“A group of artisans representing Galvain, Elan and Tinsal also joined the Alliance at the same time as I did. They probably are the only group in the Pass that has assumed a supporting role, as they have offered to set up repair depots for weapons and armors. Also, the only other team capable of performing stealth missions, other than my own, belongs to Je.”
With ample background details regarding the Alliance revealed, Ishia felt that it was time to move over to strategic advice. “Regarding weaknesses as a whole, the Alliance has a problem defending against concentrated ranged attacks. The only group providing consistent protection from arrows and magic are Sayden’s mages, from the Oramus Collective. With a large part of their forces being made of infantry, and half of them not even being equipped with shields, the Alliance’s options when defending from ranged barrages are extremely limited, provided the mages are out of the picture. I can safely say that keeping the Alliance’s almost purely offensive melee forces at bay while bombarding them from afar would effectively slaughter them. The artisans might be building ranged artillery to counter such a strategy, but I haven’t had any reports regarding their activity.”
Ishia briefly paused, having said all she had planned to reveal. Next, she planned secure a way for herself to be able to reliably return to Alquen’s camp. Without being enabled to do so, her life would be at great risk should her former allies gain a measure of awareness.
“This is all I have to say, currently, though I have to ask that you let me move to Alquen’s camp should staying in the Alliance’s camp become too dangerous for me. I won’t work without a safety net. Also, when would you like me to report again? At the earliest, I could visit this camp again after tomorrow’s pre-battle council to unveil the Alliance’s strategy for the day.”
The girl shifted on her seat, hoping that Rapheel would grant her the safe escape she desired. She wasn’t expecting to bring the commanders’ attention down on herself any time soon, but she didn’t plan on dying at the Pass because some were wiser than they looked.
Rapheel sat through Ishia’s report unmoving, listening silently, nodding once or twice as she spoke. “If the Alliance discovers your actions, I think that you’ll be hard pressed to get out of the Pass. That being said, if you and your men can escape, we can find a place for you here. As for when you should return, it would, perhaps, be best to wait until the day after tomorrow. If you leave so soon again, these Je may take notice.”
He rose, turning to the trunk he had been sitting on and opening it, rummaging through it until he found a sack that clinked softly as he drew it from the chest. Opening the sack, Rapheel extracted a small bronze disc from it, not much larger than a gold piece. Etched into the surface of the disc was the Lion of Alquen, while the reverse bore what appeared to be an open book. “This token will allow you to bypass the sentries. I suggest you do not lose it.” Moving past Ishia, the soldier opened the flap of the tent, calling another nearby soldier and instructing him to escort Ishia out of the camp. “There is more at stake here than you know, Ishia Rinchen. I pray you do not play us false in this.”
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