Zusia, Desmond, 10416 P.C.
The Army Barracks took up a large part of Zusia's southern end, complete with apartments, offices, and training centres. It didn't take Stephanie long to find her way to the courtyard — it was full of soldiers and horses ready for departure. The rest of the Graduates who had been sorted into the Army were already there, dressed in their crisp, new military garb: doublets and helmets all a deep crimson, with the Great Dragon's crest embroidered across their chests. Stephanie wore hers with a burning in her stomach, hating the way the gloves made it look as if her hands were drenched in blood. She wore the helmet with the visor down, hiding her tear-stained face as she fell into step beside the other graduates. There were only fourteen of them standing in their new armour, picked from over a hundred. The best of the best.
The eager murderers.
They weren't the only ones; another squadron was there, dressed in similar crimson garb. A crest emblazoned the backs of their coats, different from the one Stephanie had seen on hers. She knew the reasoning. Each graduating group became a squad — or if there were over thirty, two squads — and each squad was given a crest alongside the Dragon's to distinguish them from others. It was easier, then, during a battle, to know where one was meant to be.
The Commander stood before them, hands clasped behind his back. "You, Graduates, are Squadron Eighty-Four, and your squadron leader is Sergeant Josiah." He motioned to the young man who stood beside him. He looked to be in his early twenties, but he stood tall and sure in his mail and doublets. His crest was much more elaborate than the soldiers', proving his higher ranking. Stephanie knew he must have been exceptionally good to have become a Sergeant so young. "You will be joined by Sergeant Leah and her squad, Squadron Sixty-Two, to complete your mission."
The Commander went on, but Stephanie had lost interest, consumed with thoughts and ideas on how to properly execute her revenge. They were ordered to mount their horses and ride, and Stephanie approached the disciplined beast she was directed to and pulled herself onto it. Within minutes, they were trotting out of the courtyard, following the Sergeants' horses down the cobbled road toward the Army gate. Suddenly and for only the third time in her life, Stephanie was outside of the city, leaving Zusia far, far behind.
Stephanie didn't look back.
The ride was long and hard. Stephanie had had many hours of training atop a horse's back, but she was unused to such long, hard travelling. She was getting tired, finding herself staring off into the woods, wishing with all of her might that she could spur her horse into a gallop and leave the company behind. But then, where would she go? She had nowhere to go. Her only plan of action lay within doing as much damage to this mission as she could before she was inevitably cut down — at least she'd be going down defiant.
It felt like a part of her, the part that possessed her will to live, had died with Marcie. The ache in her chest wouldn't leave, no matter how bumpy the road became. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw Marcie lying on the sandy ground, blood pooling around her... so Stephanie didn't close her eyes, however heavy they became.
The sun was far off in the west before they reached their destination. It was a village surrounded by trees, just miles north of the jungle. Stephanie had never been this far outside of Zusia before, but having studied the map of Desmond for hours on end, she knew this place to be the village of Sarum. What they were doing there, she didn't know.
They were called to a halt in the village market, which was unnaturally void of people at this time of day. The Town Officer, dressed in a red suit very similar to theirs, was there to greet the leaders of their company. They talked for a bit before Sergeant Leah, who was a tall, thickly-built middle-aged woman with a powerful voice, ordered the soldiers off their horses. Stephanie dismounted, grimacing at the ache in her joints.
"Squadron Eighty-Four, listen up!" Sergeant Leah yelled. "You will be split into groups of three!" The woman went on to rattle off who was with who, and Stephanie grimaced beneath her helmet. Just her luck. She had been paired with Astrid and Zaman.
Sergeant Leah continued to bellow in her loud voice. "You are to search the houses. If anyone resists, restrain them and bring them here to Sergeant Josiah. If you find anything illegal, report it to Sergeant Josiah. If you find an Illegal, restrain them and any accomplices and bring them to Sergeant Josiah. There have been sighting of Illegals and enemies of the crown in this town, and Motch calls for their capture. Do not fail him!"
This was no recon mission. When their instructions were complete, a hand roughly grabbed Stephanie's arm. "Well come on, oh great fighter, let's go!"
She jerked her arm out of Astrid's grip but followed her and Zaman anyway. The two seemed to be very eager to start their job, but all Stephanie could feel was a sense of growing dread. She had to jog to keep up with the taller teenagers. Normally her short stature didn't bother her, but at six feet Zaman was nearly a full foot taller than her, and Astrid had several inches on her as well. It made keeping up with their fast pace a bit of a challenge. She managed to, however, and she followed them to the section of the village they had been assigned to search. Naturally, Astrid took charge. Stephanie kept her mouth shut.
The first few streets yielded no results. The people in the houses were compliant as the soldiers searched, which Stephanie could see irritated Zaman. The boy clearly wanted a fight, eager to drag someone kicking and screaming down the street. She could tell it by the way he kept harassing the villagers. They went on, searching house after house, and Zaman finally got his wish, as a man fought back after Astrid pushed his wife aside. Zaman restrained the man and dragged him off, leaving Astrid and Stephanie to finish searching the house. They were finished before Zaman returned, so they moved onto the next house. It was small, and the only one who lived there was a young woman who let them in without a word.
Astrid immediately marched off to the bedroom, which seemed to be her unspoken job. Stephanie wandered into the kitchen, feeling the eyes of the woman on her back as she started looking through the cupboards. She took her time, hoping Astrid would go through the rest of the house in the time she had gone through the kitchen. She moved to the pantry, checking the shelves, admittedly not truly knowing what she was looking for. She wasn't sure an Illegal would be hiding in the sink, but she double-checked to make sure.
"Find anything?" Astrid barked at her as she crossed through the kitchen and into the living room. Stephanie didn't bother to reply; she left the empty sink and started to follow Astrid. But she stopped.
The mat on the floor in front of the sink had squeaked a little. She glanced at the woman, finding her watching her. She looked calm. Too calm. Stephanie stepped off the mat and pushed it away with her foot, keeping her gaze on the woman to find any reaction. The woman merely raised her eyebrows. Stephanie looked down. There, at her feet, almost invisible to the untrained eye, was a trap door. Stephanie looked at the woman again.
"That's my cellar." It was a simple statement, spoken flatly as if she had said it a million times.
Somehow, Stephanie knew the woman was lying. There was a silent challenge in the woman's raised eyebrows. Do it if you dare.
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Stephanie didn't. She stepped away and swept the mat back over the trap door.
"What cellar?" Astrid appeared in the doorway, staring at the woman as if she expected her to blurt out any and all answers. Stephanie stayed still, her breath catching in her throat as Astrid's gaze flitted to her. She frowned at Stephanie, motioning to the mat beneath her foot. "I think you're standing on it, idiot."
Stephanie set her jaw, once again kicking the mat away with her foot and carefully avoiding the woman's gaze as she dropped to her knees and lifted up the trap door. A ladder descended into deep darkness, and Stephanie pulled the flashlight off of her belt and flicked it on before climbing down. She had no game plan, no way out of this; she began her search blindly, stumbling through the small dark cellar as Astrid clambered down behind her. It was just as she had imagined a cellar to be: dark, damp, and chilly. They scanned the shelves, finding nothing but jars slick with dust and cobwebs that made the place all the eerier. Sacks of potatoes sat against the far wall, giving off an earthy, musty smell. They searched the room up and down — Stephanie tried not to be too lazy about it. Her head was beginning to ache again. Just by the look in the woman's eyes, she knew there was a secret that this room held, and she had no desire to find it.
After several more minutes of scouring, Astrid kicked at the ground and marched for the ladder. Stephanie waited as Astrid clambered up it before she started. As her foot touched the bottom rung, Stephanie heard a sneeze.
She froze, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end as she stared at the ladder, kicking herself for reacting at all. The noise had come from behind her. She looked up.
Astrid had heard it as well, because she had stopped pushing herself to her feet, freezing in the same way Stephanie had. Astrid locked gazes with Stephanie, and there was a sudden, eager look on the girl's face, one that made Stephanie feel sick. Without a word, Astrid motioned for Stephanie to go and figure out where the noise had come from. Stephanie silently obeyed, a pit growing in her chest as Astrid slipped down the ladder behind her. The sneeze had belonged to someone young. Most likely a child. An Illegal.
They neared the back wall, their flashlights illuminating the old wooden planks. Astrid drew her sword, and Stephanie slowly did the same. When Astrid didn't move, Stephanie approached the wall, grabbing one of the potato sacks and dragging it away. The wall looked normal enough. Astrid stepped forward and yanked away another sack, and that's when Stephanie saw it: the faintest sliver of light glowing between two of the boards.
Astrid had seen it too. Bracing herself against the wall, she gave the wooden plank a hard stomp with her boot. It snapped open, and Stephanie, crouching down, locked eyes with a child with ratty black hair, sitting on a mattress in a little room behind the wall. She was clutching an old rag doll, mouth open in a silent scream of terror, and in that split moment, Stephanie saw Marcie, young and innocent, moments away from having her life stolen from her.
"Bethany, close your eyes!"
The next several moments went by in a hazy whirl. Stephanie turned her head in time to see Astrid fall against the wall, crying out as she clutched at the arrow in her side, which had sliced right through her gambeson. Stephanie spun, catching sight of the young mother standing on the other side of the room, gripping a bow. She lowered it, looking at Stephanie, and Stephanie realized that she had dropped her sword. It was only a second that their eyes were locked, Stephanie's mouth opening to speak. The next moment, Zaman made his reappearance, dropping down behind the young mother and thrusting his sword through her back without a moment's hesitation. Stephanie stared in numb disbelief as the woman dropped her weapon, a raspy gasp escaping her before she collapsed to the ground.
Zaman gave the dead woman a scornful look before turning and running for Astrid, who was gasping and trembling as she fought to stop the flow of blood from her wound. Zaman whipped off his coat to help.
Stephanie took a sharp breath, snapping out of her stupor as a shriek pierced her ears. The little girl clambered out of the hidden room, stumbling as she ran to the dead woman. She collapsed beside her, sobbing and wailing for her mother to awaken.
Zaman punched Stephanie's shoulder, nearly pushing her off balance. "Stephanie! Take the brat to Josiah, and get some help! Astrid's losing a lot of blood!"
Stephanie moved like a zombie, knowing deep down already what she intended to do. She didn't know how she'd do it, but she knew she'd do it, no matter what it took. It felt like a dream, rising to her feet and re-sheathing her sword as she stepped across the room to the sobbing girl. She bent down and wrapped her arm around the squealing child, dragging her away from the body of her dead mother. The girl squirmed and wailed, but Stephanie managed to keep a firm hold on her as she went to the ladder and hauled the girl up it. She straightened up, looking down into the hole for a moment before she made her first mistake: she lifted the trapdoor with her foot and let it slam shut. She heard Zaman's yell, but she ignored it as she knelt on the trap door, bending down and pulling off her helmet so the little girl could see her face.
"Shh," she coaxed the still sobbing child, "I won't let them hurt you." Her voice cracked on the words, the first ones she uttered since Marcie's death that morning. "We need to escape. I need you to trust me, okay?" She didn't know why she had asked this little girl to trust her when they had just witnessed her mother's death, something Stephanie hadn't done anything to prevent. It made her gut clench just thinking about it.
But, whether it was out of naivety or innocence, the little girl nodded through her tears, trembling from head to toe. Stephanie put her helmet on the child's head and instructed her to climb on her back. Straightening to her feet and adjusting the added weight, she started for the back door. She had no time to think up a plan of action. Her only thought was to escape, no matter what.
The backyard was small, not very noteworthy beyond the little garden on the verge of death. It took Stephanie little effort to scale the fence with the girl clinging to her back, and once they were in the alleyway Stephanie chose to go to the left, to find the streets they had already scoured. Chances were there wouldn't be anyone to spot them escape.
"Stephanie!" Zaman roared from behind her. She cursed herself as she broke into a run — why hadn't she blocked the trapdoor somehow? She knew Zaman would have the others after her like bloodhounds in minutes. Idiot! Was she so blinded and dazed so as not to think of the best course of action?
She did the only thing she thought of to do: she ran, and hard. The wind whipped at her raggedly cut hair as she barrelled down the street, the child's grip on her tightening as she picked up speed. The yelling behind her grew more numerous, and she heard the sound of horses starting their pursuit. There'd be no way to outrun a horse, not unless she hid in the woods. It was her only course of action now. She pushed herself to run harder, faster.
Around the corner of a house just feet away, one of the soldiers from the other squad stepped out, bow drawn and loaded. Stephanie barely thought; she threw herself at him, taking him by surprise by knocking him to the ground and fleeing with his weapon. Everything around her was a blur. There were others getting closer. A rock on the road tripped her and she fell, managing to catch herself on her hands and knees, doing her best to protect the precious cargo clinging to her back. She got to her feet and loaded the bow, but by that time it was too late: soldiers surrounded her, their own weapons drawn, too many of them to shoot or fight. Sergeant Josiah was there on horseback, coming at her. She aimed the arrow at him.
She would have shot him, too. She had nothing left to lose, and getting cut down for murdering a Sergeant was enough to be remembered for. However, there was a steady, frantic breathing in her ear that stopped her. If she shot, every arrow aimed at her would doubtlessly be loosed. And she wouldn't be the only one to die.
"Stand down, soldier," Sergeant Josiah said from atop his stead, his voice dangerous and low.
Stephanie had made a promise — a stupid promise. A promise she was surely bound to break. She couldn't protect this girl any more than she could have saved Marcie or even herself.
But she would die trying anyway.
Stephanie lowered her weapon.