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Tranquil Waters: The Lead Crown Ch 8.0, Beginning the End

Evelyn had always been interested in understanding 'the big picture' ever since she was a little girl. While her father often rewarded her for 'time wasting' with increasingly horrible and undesirable chores, she couldn't help herself. After her brother's disappearance she took even more completely to deep thought, she wondered why things happened more than how; she began thinking on the 'balance' priests were so fond of speaking about. Eventually, her father stopped taking her to church at all; he explained that services were supposed to be a duty, not a distraction.

But her father was a thing of the past, and her brother had returned to her. Evelyn had suffered through numerous trials and tribulations in her life, and, as was always the way, she began to reflect on them whenever she encountered another. Granted, all be told, in the past month she had experienced a far heavier mix of good and bad... and it all seemed to have culminated that night as she fled with the Princess from the burning manor house.

Princess Noriene's guests, of which included her long-lost brother, had all evacuated with her and joined her in the escape. With Errol, the Prince's steward at the reins, the horse drawn carriage careened through the streets of Newport at a speed possible only due to the lack of midnight foot traffic. With each seat filled, the Princess and Evelyn were joined by both Theos and the two Tribal Bears.

The Ermine was still not familiar with the streets of Newport and had no idea where they were going other than the Princess' explanation that they needed to get to the University; she was confident that her contacts there would be able to provide support. Peering out of the back window, Evelyn was relieved to see that they weren't being chased... they had at least that much going for them.

The big black Bear earned her attention as he grew increasingly disruptive with his exclamations, and he seemed almost aggressive in his demand of the Princess. "Sanmer, lunsa... Awwe... houa Sanmer?"

The brown Bear managed to silence him with an arm gesture and regarded Princess Noriene with a little more care. "Roaring-Flood wants to know where is Sanmer."

The Princess' response was flat and to the point. "He left the manor hours ago."

The aggressive black Bear didn't seem content and his words came out as a growl. "Houa Sanmer? Awwe."

Princess Noriene looked to the calmer brown Bear. "What IS he saying, exactly?"

The two Bears exchanged a few words in their tongue, but it was Theo that addressed the Wolf in their stead. "The literal translation is 'is where Sanmer? me tell.', but basically he wants you to tell him where Sanmer is."

Her response was simple. "On his way to or from Vallara, I would suspect."

The black Bear's brow furrowed and his expression became more thought than anger. Eventually he even commented in the common tongue. "Why?"

Princess Noriene smiled as she glanced out the window. "I knew we would need help, and he was the best option to get it."

The brown Bear had gone back to looking around, and even stuck his head through the curtains slung across the window next to him. After returning to his seat, the Tribal glanced around distractedly. "Where is Kesst?"

A moment later the carriage skidded to a halt and a number of voices shouted from the road all around them. Errol's deep voice was calm, but there was a hint of concern to it. "Your highness... these men are armed."

A voice shouted from outside the carriage. Although it sounded similar to the authoritative tone a guardsman might use, the faint hint of a lateral lisp didn't give it the same imposing quality. "Step out of the transport, please. There's no need for violence."

Her brother stood up immediately, very nearly hitting his head on the carriage ceiling. "Gregory?!?"

Evelyn attempted to stop Theo, but he pushed the door open and hopped down. The speaker's tone changed and he seemed taken aback at her brother's presence. "Theo? W-what are you doing here?"

Someone else outside the carriage spoke up, apparently addressing whoever the Gregory-fellow was. Theo countered whatever was said. "That's a lie. THIS is the real Princess."

One by one everyone slowly filtered out into the streets, save Princess Noriene herself. Evelyn was the last to exit, but only after the Wolf nodded and accepted the Ermine's sleeping toddler into her arms. "You needn't go out there, my dear. It may not be safe."

Evelyn nodded respectfully, "My brother is out there, your Highness... and maybe something I say might help--"

A lion with a close-cropped mane stepped over and pulled the Ermine away from the door, speaking to her as he did so. "You there, step away from the carriage."

The men surrounding the transport were not soldiers or city guardsman; they wore the same colors and clothing she recognized as belonging to the University of Progressive Understanding. "You... you're University Guards... but you're ALLIES to the Princess!"

The speaker of the group, a particularly rotund Dingo addressed her assessment. "All the more reason we have to know if this is an imposter, miss."

Theo reattested his earlier statement. "It isn't. THAT is Princess Noriene."

The Dingo shook his head. "Not good enough, Theo... everybody at the University remembers how you were acting when you came to visit last time, so your opinion--"

Evelyn winced when her brother exploded with fury. "How I was acting? One of the Deans gave YOU control over my classes, and I'm STILL on administrative leave! How is someone SUPPOSED to act when--"

The portly Canine interrupted him. "Technically you're not on leave anymore."

The comment caused Theo to completely fall silent. After a moment he started again, albeit, in a much calmer manner. "They... Gregory... do you mean they repealed it, finally?"

The Dingo continued shaking his head. "You were Excessed."

Any bit of color in her brother's pale face drained away. "I... was... released?"

The Lion standing beside Evelyn kept a paw on her arm. "The Water Science division was redundant. The UPU is going in a new direction, embracing the unification of all sciences under the lead of--"

Princess Noriene appeared at the carriage door, "The Air Science director."

The men in the street gave pause at the Princess' appearance and it looked, for a moment, as if some where stuck with indecision as to whether they should bow or no. Among them, only the Dingo did, but he was also the first to speak. "Ah... Princess... if you ARE the Princess... we have reason to believe that there is a Wolf masquerading as the Princess... and... ah..."

The Princess scowled, "Is that so? And we assume it was Professor Milhoy who told you there was an imposter?"

All of the men gathered around the carriage fell silent. Eventually the Lion spoke. "You wouldn't mind showing us your paws then... your Highness? Professor Milhoy said the imposter would be wearing a ring on--"

Evelyn knew about the very distinct ring the Princess wore and, for a moment the fact that a Professor would identify that as the sign of an imposter struck her as odd... but not as odd as the fact that the Wolf showed her paws, completely devoid of the ring. "We never wear jewelry... now... tell us... what is the meaning of--"

The Lion scowled as he drew a flintlock pistol from beneath his tunic and aimed it at the Princess. "Damn it... well that complicates things. The direct route it is then."

Gregory, who was standing beside Theo seemed surprised by the action, and he reached over to grab at the Lion's arm. "Luca, what in--?"

The assailant simply pulled his paw free and clipped the Canine upside the head with the gun, causing him to fall over. "Shut up."

It was then that Evelyn made her move. Twisting her shoulder out of his distracted grasp, the Ermine grabbed the wrist that held the gun, pulling at it with all her weight. The Lion made a grab for her but Errol had already hopped down from his place on the driver's bench and had him quickly pushed up against the carriage. By then, the Princess was already on the street and, with Evelyn's help, worked the flintlock out of his grasp.

Out of the other six University men, only one other acted; the Cat pulled his own gun and took aim. Nobody was close enough to stop him so, with no other option, Evelyn threw herself in front of Princess Noriene. The gun roared out its shot and the Ermine woman knew the end had come. In tandem with the weapon firing was a huge burst of light and an unbearable wave of warmth. It was nothing like what Evelyn had expected from the stories she had heard about getting shot but, a moment later she took breath and realized that she was unharmed.

Uncurling from her defensive posture, the Ermine watched as a wall of fire separating her from the gunman dissipated and saw that nobody was interested in fighting any longer, and that all eyes were focused atop the carriage where a red-and-gold dragon stood, wings spread, with little rivulets of liquid fire dribbling from his muzzle. He appeared like the Angel of Vengeance from the stories Evelyn had heard as a little kit. The Dragon's voice came out as a deep-chested growl, "Are we going to have problems?" Every last one of the men surrendered.

The Dragon effortlessly sprang from the roof and onto the ground beside her. Although she expected to be frightened by him, his visage was instead one of care and concern. She remembered seeing the Dragon before, albeit, withdrawn and silent beneath his cowl and cloak back at the Princess' manor. A striking change had come over him. "You're... Kesst... aren't you?"

The Princess didn't provide the Dragon a chance to respond, simply turning to the Dingo, who was on his knees with his paws in front of his bloodied face. "Mr Gregory Ryder, if we remember correctly... third tier Air Instructor?"

The rotund scholar fidgeted, speaking through his paws. "I... uh... promoted to... first... your Majesty..."

"Ah... of course... well, we have promised Theo Vinson a First Tier Professor position, so you will have to forgive us if we appropriate some of your important time and ask you attend us as we speak with your... superiors."

It was readily obvious that the Dingo would not decline and none of the remaining men had further objections either.

* * * * * *

Aodhan had never been given the opportunity to ride in a motorized carriage and he had to admit that the device was pleasantly surprised. Although he had heard numerous stories of their unreliability and noise he found that they were greatly over exaggerated. Then again, he reasoned, there were many different versions of the transportation and he had no doubt that he was riding in one of the finest.

The delay in departure from Vallara ended up being in their favor, as their newest acquaintance, Lady Nicole Arnswold was more than happy enough to see to their transportation needs. Her favor was assured once she had discovered that their party had assisted with seeing to the aid of her retainer, Inigo the bat. Friar Arlowe had brought up the fact that he was surprised a noble from such an out-of-the-way city would have access to such metropolitan accommodations, but she simply smiled and explained that she had many interests in many parts of the kingdom and left it at that.

And so the group found themselves in a traveling caravan of sorts, joined up with the white Fox Sanmer in the Princess' own carriage and Lady Arnswold along with a good number of her followers. While it could have been an impersonal arrangement, the Wolf was surprised when the groups ended up meshing far better than he'd first anticipated; a number of his group went in one of the other three carriages while Sada the Otter woman joined them in theirs.

She sat on the coach bench across from where Aodhan was situated with Sister Aurelie leaning against him, eyes closed. His Eyara hadn't slept much, but somehow found the will to drift off into a fitful sleep once there was certainty that they were on their way once again. Beside her sat Friar Arlowe, whose attention alternated between providing her his focus and gazing out the window at the swiftly rolling landscape. Once the Otter began talking about alternate entrances to the Church, however, she had his full attention.

Sada sat with knitting needles in her paws, miraculously managing to get some crafting done despite the constant bumping and rumbling of their transportation. As she worked, she also revealed some much-needed information. "The Church grounds in Newport aren't all on solid foundation. After Newport's first governor claimed the coastline down to Visage Rock they expanded the western portion of the city across a section of marshland that had to be filled... and there are still drainage tunnels the original workers left open."

Aodhan didn't want to question his good fortune but he also realized that they couldn't afford the luxury of diving in without looking where they were going, and that meant he had some questions. "How did you learn about them? Does the Church know they exist?"

The Otter shook her head calmly. "I doubt the priests or the Church's soldiers know anything about them... if anyone knew it would be the servants or groundskeepers."

Friar Arlowe blinked, eyes focused on her. "In the years I was there I never heard anything about drainage tunnels."

Sada cracked a wry smirk. "I'm not in the least surprised. No offense, Friar, but in all the years I have known the Church I have always known them to spend their time looking up. How would any of the clergy be expected to know what goes on beneath your feet?"

The Raccoon Dog nodded thoughtfully, "Fair enough... but you have yet to mention how you know of their existence... and are you certain they can be traversed?"

The Otter sat back on the bench, setting down her knitting. "I have, over a period of time, come across a wide variety of information, not all of it from sources I care to divulge... but I assure you it's accurate. As for whether they can provide entry into the Church, I can assure you that I know of some who have exited in that manner, so I assume entry would be the same process, only in reverse."

Aodhan gently caressed Sister Aurelie's arm as the Cat snuggled closer to him. "It may not be a guaranteed solution, but it is a possible one."

Sada picked up her knitting and resumed her work. "Better than walking in the front gates, anyway."

The Wolf couldn't argue with that logic.

* * * * * *

In her many years serving as a student and practitioner of the arts of healing, Christine Brownell had traveled overland on wolf-back, on the shoulders of a Valley Tribe warrior, and even leagues underneath the earth in a small canoe along the "Ihan Ruu", the "Sunless River". One way she had never expected to travel, however, was by motorized carriage. Certainly she'd had some interaction with Prince Malcom on occasion but, from her every experience involving 'Wild Wolf' he didn't seem the sort who would ever make use of a horse drawn carriage, let alone an automated one.

It wasn't that she was opposed to the university-created steam-powered mobile transport; she could certainly appreciate the speed with which it traveled. It also had nothing to do with the fact that she had never physically been to Newport; it was, however a prospect she had long considered in her desire to become an accepted and acknowledged member of the University. More than anything else, what had her so out-of-sorts was the fact that she had found herself to be the center of attention ever since she was joined in the carriage by its mixed group of travelers.

Roland, the Wolf/Husky scholar that had come with Sir Wiesen to her cottage while she was out had taken a surprisingly upbeat appreciation of her skills. Unlike most other members of the UPU, the silver-furred Air Scholar took an immediate interest in her study and, although he was dramatically under-skilled in the ways of herbs and other Water Science, he had a great interest in Alchemy, which meant they shared common ground in that regard. It also made it easier that his Human contemporary had joined another carriage to spend time with Sir Wiesen.

It was a nice change, she found; being able to provide guidance and instruction into her own independent research to an interested party gave her a sense of genuine value... and that was something that had been in short supply from anyone related to the University. She glanced to her right, where Tobias Severna sat staring at her-- one such sexist scholar... or so she had though at first.

The Stag seemed to be hanging on every word she said and, when their gazes locked he cocked his head to the side ever-so-slightly. "The Valley Tribe use Badian to aid in joint pain? I have only ever heard of tribesmen eating it to help settle an upset stomach or using its oils to get rid of fur mites."

Roland was much slower on the uptake. "Badian? Is... that a plant?"

Tobias opened his muzzle to answer but quickly closed it and visibly deferred to Dr. Brownell; it was quite a change from what she had come to expect from the Antelope. The Mouse looked to the Wolf Dog. "We know it as Anise."

The Wolf Dog cocked his head to the side. "The cooking herb?"

The Prong Horn nodded. "The Tribes people have a much closer connection to the natural world... they've found ways to heal maladies and settle the humors without alchemy or chemistry, which means they must rely more on what nature provides."

D.r Brownell smirked, unable to avoid seeing just how much she could phase the 'on his best behavior' Prong Horn. "Oh... and the women of the Tribes also use it to lessen the discomfort of their menstrual cycle."

Tobias let out a wheezing cough, as if he'd choked on his tongue, and he fought valiantly to recover his decorum, and even made the noble attempt to try and maintain an even tone, though he did not quite manage to come across as a neutral scholar when his voice cracked in the middle of his question. "Oh really? They take it for... the... um... flowering.. of the... fruitful vine?"

Roland glanced between Tobias and Christina, obviously lost in the conversation. Rather than torment the poor Prong Horn further, Dr. Brownell chose to change the topic. "Yes... and their knowledge of herbs stretch a wide category of understanding... for example, did you know that an entire treaty between the Yew Tribe and the Mist Tribe was built around a poultice created by the Bats that allowed a broken horn to heal?"

Tobias' reaction was immediate and powerful. With all sense of decorum set aside, the Prong Horn almost fell off his seat. "They can do that?"

Christine smiled warmly at both scholars, and addressed Roland. "If you like, I would be happy to show you how it's made... assuming Mr. Severna does not mind helping as a subject for the purpose of--"

The Antelope didn't even let her finish speaking. "It would be my honor!"

* * * * * *

Sir Wiesen was no stranger to luxury transport but he had never traveled in a royal carriage before; Princess Noriene's was particularly pleasant. The spring arms attached to the wheel base gave a far more comfortable ride across country than most would have expected but, then again, the Dragon smiled to himself when he realized that the tinkerer who had put it together had modeled the design after one of his own.

Their 'host', the white Fox Sanmer Lemarre was courteous enough, but kept tight-muzzled about the purpose of his visit. Nevertheless, he had mentioned Kesst, and that the Princess had word of him, and that was enough for the Dragon. Other than that, Sanmer answered direct questions simply and to-the-point, and remained otherwise to himself, except for the occasional quip or interjection into the almost constant discussion between Umberto and Brody.

Out of everyone in their large traveling group, Umberto Marino seemed to have the most emotional investment in the two differing elements of their enterprise. Interested in both the dealings of the Church and the missive to be delivered to the Princess, the Royal Guardsman seemed to want everything to happen in unison-- he reiterated often that they all shared an obligation to aid the royal family but also that it was every man's duty to see God's will done. Sanmer had a particular field day with that statement, and the Fox agreed fully that God's will was full of 'doodie'.

Brody, for the most part, was content to nod complacently with the Wolverine's comments, only occasionally adding his thoughts to the virtual monologue. Wiesen chose to remain out of the discussion, having spent over a century listening to the Church's rhetoric when it came to duty and obligation. In the end, however, he learned that most of that loyalty only went one way. It brought the Dragon some comfort to know that Sir Umberto had found a much more tangible connection in service to the crown.

Sandoval, who Sir Wisen had known to be very verbose and animated, was doing a good job of challenging Sanmer for the title of 'most stoic'. Whatever had been said when he met with Alarice was not repeated and, other than a freshly bloodied bandage wrapped around his sword-hand, there was no indication that anything at all had happened. Whatever had caused the wound, Wiesen knew well enough to leave it alone.

The single time the swordsman had chosen to speak had been when he had elected to join Sanmer in the royal carriage. His words were as eloquent as always, but very to the point. "If you do not object, Mr. Lemarre, I would travel with you. We have a missive to deliver to the Princess from Prince Malcom himself, and I do not believe that star-crossed paths intersect so conveniently without cause."

Sir Wiesen, for the most part, was neither withdrawn nor outgoing. He spent the hours on the road working on his newest brain-teasing project: a unique clockwork eye. While there were any number of reasons why it wouldn't work and was little more than a time-waster, Wiesen enjoyed the challenge, especially because he had never before considered putting his skills to use in such a way. True, there was little science could say about how and why an eye worked, but the Dragon was not interested in biology... he simply looked at it as a mechanism... and that WAS his specialty.

His initial interest in the project was due to the question proposed by the blind Human scholar Joshew so it was only fitting that the man had joined him in the carriage. Despite being unable to see, the scholar remained close by, his pose suggesting that he was listening intently since he couldn't watch. It wasn't until the Dragon took a break from the tinkering with a particularly stubborn section of gears that Joshew even said a word. "Is it done?"

Wiesen chuckled. "Far from it. Not only does the eye need to be able to raise and lower but it also has to be able to pan left and right... sometimes one of each option at the same time. Connecting the right gears for that is difficult enough, but I am trying to mimic the movement of the eye's pupil as well."

Joshew's brow furrowed. "So it looks more real? It wouldn't be worth spending time on--"

The Dragon interrupted him. "An eye is a complex mechanism, Mr. Shew... We may not understand all of the inner workings, but one thing I know for certain is that the amount of pupil in one's eye changes in response to a number of stimuli, and there must be a reason for it."

The Human changed his topic slightly. "Do you think it will be able to see?"

The Techlar raised a talon to his scaled maw and gently Breathed against a single claw. The feeling that came from the use of the Breath was addictive-- an urge to bare his soul to the world and revel in the freedom from his physical form. He reeled in the bliss, knowing only too well how badly the urge could become if overused, and stopped when a golden bead of glowing liquid coalesced on the tip of the digit. Lowering the dew-like infusion down to the clockwork eye, he let the droplet fall onto the brass, where it was quickly absorbed.

Joshew repeated his question, "Will it be able to see?"

The Dragon sat up straight, feeling a sense of vertigo as his vision became a jumble of views. Recoiling from the confusing triple-vision, Sir Wiesen reflexively shut one eye at a time to make sense of things... one... two.... three. He opened his first two eyes and stared down at the clockwork eye resting on the table, copper lid shut. He kept his awaited answer to a reserved response. "There is a chance of that... yes."

* * * * * *

Jessen lay on the broad, cushioned seat of the carriage compartment he shared with Alvis, staring at the ceiling as the scholar lay in the crook of his arm. It had been years since the ex-Templar had the standing or support to travel in a single-cabin carriage, let alone one with four private rooms. Frankly, having the privacy to be alone and intimate with his new lover was as much as novelty as the transportation itself.

Alvis had been fervently eager for the lovemaking, and it was evident in the way he responded to each touch, each caress, and, as things progressed, each and every intimate movement. There were a number of times when Brother Jessen was worried the Dog would disrupt their traveling companions in adjacent compartments with unrestrained sounds of bliss yet, each time, Alvis managed to keep his exclamations muted with grit teeth or bit lip.

The post coital bliss was something Brother Jessen had longed for, having been without the peace of mind it brought for far too long. With the warmth fo his lover to his right, and the meditative pattern of the ceiling's wood grain taking up his vision, the Coyote finally had a chance to let his mind wander, absorbing and filtering the thoughts that had filled it for countless hours. They were returning to Newport with a strength they had lacked mere days before.

Alarice was the missing heir to the Arnswold family. Although Brother Jessen had never been to Vallara himself, his father and mother were originally from the frontier town and that meant the young Coyote was brought up on stories of the Arnswolds and their lost bloodline. Traveling in one of the Arnswold carriages punctuated his experience of living among the legend. Despite the fact that Alarice was suddenly the embodiment of those legends, he still saw her as the same, real woman, and that helped him keep his outlook grounded.

Despite how much the same she was, there were elements of Alarice that had changed in some way since she rejoined her party after visiting her family home. That was to be expected, of course, but much was still unanticipated. She kept to herself in her own compartment, having refused to be accompanied by Inigo, her traveling companion. The Bat had chosen the compartment next to hers, which was directly in front of Brother Jessen's. Cruff, the younger of the two Raccoon Dogs had chosen to join him. At the time, the Coyote didn't know why but, as he lay with Alvis dozing in his arms, Brother Jessen heard the discussion.

The walls were fairly well insulated, but the volume of Cruff's voice did manage to sneak through at times. The exact verbage didn't always make it to Brother Jessen's ears but he recognized the tone well enough, and what few words he could puzzle out helped fill in the details. From there, the Coyote was able to fill in the blanks. Cruff had lost someone important, and it was someone who had spent time with the Bat.

Inigo's voice was calm the entire time, but also held a playful edge, almost bordering on taunting. "You weren't together at the time."

Cruff's shout was muted by the wall, but still full of barely restrained emotion; Jessen guessed that it was related to a fresh loss. "He shouldn't have had to!"

The discussion (or was it an argument?) continued for some time, tempers occasionally causing portions of the dialogue to be louder than other times, and yet, during one particularly quiet pause, there was a direct comment from the Bat that, despite its even and muted tone, still managed to make its way to Brother Jessen's ears. "He called out your name once."

The thump against the wall caused the Coyote to jump in surprise, and it was followed by two more, most likely fists impacting against the wood. "Damn it... Vic didn't need--"

Alvis had been jolted awake and was looking around their compartment, "Wha? What's--"

Brother Jessen eased the scholar's head back down to his chest. "Shh... it's nothing... just problems being worked out."

The black furred Dog nodded and snuggled closer. "...you okay?"

The Coyote smiled, looking down at the eyes staring up at him. He brought his muzzle forward to kiss Alvis between the ears. "Yes... just thinking."

"About?"

Brother Jessen let out a quiet breath. "Alarice... Nicole. The militia she's bringing to Newport... her obsession with the Order of Blades."

The Scholar slowly sat up, "They're dangerous... but this 'war'... it's even more dangerous."

Nodding, the Coyote sat up as well. "Perhaps, but she is doing the right thing."

Alvis' ears drooped slightly and he leaned against the ex-Templar. "But when is this going to end?

"It will end when the Blades aren't a threat... and she is willing to raise an army to do it... she has Vallara behind her... and that means we have the militia behind us."

The scholar was quiet for a time but he eventually spoke up, exhaustion evident in his voice. "And when it's all over? Then what?"

Brother Jessen shook his head, "I don't know... but I'm not worried."

The Dog let out a deep breath. "How can't you be worried?"

The Coyote smiled, entwining his fingers with Alvis' as he looked at his lover. "I'm not worried because we're together."

It wasn't until after their kiss that the black Dog responded. "Wow... good answer."

* * * * * *

When Brother Rhys heard that Prince Malcom was planning to stand against the Wyaranese invasion force he knew there was a chance it would come to a fight-- the Prince had said as much. What he didn't expect, however, was how whole-heartedly the Wyranese would take to the challenge of fighting off the combined might of several tribes. Despite the fact that the Grass Tribe had allies, however, the Wyranese were barely outmanned two to one, and, considering the fact that every last man with the invaders was trained for war, it was far more even than the numbers suggested.

Brother Rhys was no combatant, and had no stomach for causing injury. Instead, the Rat ran through the battlefield under the flag of a healer, providing whatever aid he could for whomever he could. Sometimes it meant little more than offering a paw to squeeze as a man's life drained away, and sometimes it was dragging a critically injured tribal warrior uphill along the beach to the cover of trees, or fighting against the weight of an armored solider while pulling them down the beach to a triage tent.

Despite the fact that Brother Rhys was so deep in the melee he was fortunate enough to be regarded as a non-combatant. On two occasions he heard the sound of musket balls buzz by him and once he was very nearly struck by a poorly thrown spear and yet, his faith provided him the courage he needed to persevere, and he was not injured. Regardless, even part way through the engagement he was covered in blood, and had lost far more injured than he saved.

Behind him, further up the beach were the unfit of the Grass Tribe village-- the too elderly and the too young, hastily building a barricade of rocks and logs. Brother Rhys knew it would do little once the Wyranese engineers had their cannons ready, and the fact that the battle had raged on so long without them was a testament to the preemptive attack on the part of the tribesmen, as led by Prince Malcom.

There was a time, not long ago when Brother Rhys would have considered such a thing a sign of aggression but, considering what he knew about Lord O'Dell's intentions, all he could see in it was a prudent tactical decision... and he hated realizing that pragmatism did apparently have a place in a Priest's repertoire when it came to the battlefield. One thing that hadn't changed in the Rat's mind, however, was his concern for his friends.

At the start of the confrontation, Prince Malcom had led the charge down the beach. He and the warriors with him broke the first two lines of defense; the Wolf had aimed to strike the artillery and cannons as quickly as possible with the hope of rendering them useless. Runs-on-Air fought beside him, as did a number of other Yew Tribe hunters. With them also stood Among-the-Reeds and the Stallions who were declared to be the greatest among the Grass Tribe.

Berro also remained by the Prince, striking out at any Wyranese soldier that got too close and having uncanny success at protecting his blind side. While the Tribesmen clustered around their hero, they did the exact opposite when it came to the enigma of a Human who had introduced himself only as 'Henry'. Despite the fact that he was aiding the Tribesmen, nobody except the enemy had an interest in getting anywhere near him... and those who did soon regretted it. Brother Rhys stopped watching him within the first five minutes of combat-- he was even more of an animal that Berro.

So close to the combat and so caught up with aiding the fallen and keeping an eye on his friends, the one thing that Brother Rhys failed to do was maintain concern for his own safety. The Rat was busied trying to calm a young Horse who had taken a musket ball to his thigh, working on pulling him out of the fray when a broad shouldered Dogo lumbered toward him, white fur covered in the blood of his most recent kill. The huge Dog reached down with an enormous paw and clamped it onto the Priest's head, palming it as he lifted Brother Rhys off the ground with one arm. "You're that Prince's Rat..."

Rhys' paws grabbed hold of the Dog's wrist in order to keep his neck from bearing the full brunt of his weight, and he managed to rasp a reply. "I'm... a priest... I... provide healing..."

The Dogo looked between the Rat to the young Stallion, who was still holdind his leg, looking up at the white-furred soldier. Grinning, the Wyranese warrior brought his axe straight down into the surprised tribesman's face. A shiver went up Brother Rhys' spine at the sound of metal cleaving skull, and the Canine pulled the weapon free with a single tug. "No need for that here... Priest."

A sense of helpless fury flowed through Brother Rhys at that and, for a split second, he almost considered lashing out at the soldier... but, he realized, if he did that he would do nothing aside from surrender his status as a healer, and he would assuredly be at the Dogo's mercy. Swallowing his pride and indignation both, the Rat continued to dangle in the powerful Dog's grasp, and managed little more than a "In the name of our Lord God... release me."

A wide grin spread across the soldier's thick jaw. "So you can go back to healing more savages? No rule of battle says a soldier has to let--"

Brother Rhys felt the impact of a great weight strike the Dogo's outstretched arm, and he saw a reptilian talon grabbing his attacker's bicep. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the Priest realized that it was adorned by a golden ring with a cog situated in a place of prominence atop it. A voice so deep that it seemed to growl despite its even tone sent a new shiver up the Rat's spine. "Perhaps no rule of battle protects tribals... but the rule of God WILL be heard, Sgt. Rewes."

As if suddenly facing down a ghost, the Dog's paw went slack, releasing Brother Rhys immediately. "Of course... Your Excellency... of course... I--"

The strong voice boomed out a decree as simply as if it were an observation. "You will seek contrition later."

The Rat landed on his knees, turning as the Dogo spoke until he was looking straight into the slitted pupils of a Greater Dragon adorned with the vestments of a Bishop. The holy man was easily seven foot tall and his wings were outstretched in a show of dominance over the soldier-- it certainly worked. The soldier backed away quickly, tail tucked. "Yes... of course, Your Excellency... I will."

Brother Rhys' eyes moved from the Dragon to the retreating Dog, then back to the Dragon. The Bishop extended a talon, palm up. "Are you harmed, Brother?"

In all his years, the Rat had never before met a Bishop-- there was only one in Lehsunia, and he never left Graddin. Accepted the offered talon, Brother Rhys stood. "No, Your Excellency... but..."

The Dragon held up a talon and the Priest went immediately silent. "The men here are faithful, but most do not understand that God has more to say on the art of war than merely what they read in their handbooks."

Rhys couldn't help but let the words escape him darkly. "He killed a man in my care... I could do nothing to stop him."

The Dragon steadied the Rat and turned him around, resting an arm and folding a wing across Brother Rhys' shoulders comfortingly. He walked with him through the battlefield, Wyranese soldiers parting before them both as if they were water cleaved by a ship's bow. "God asks us that we do all we are able, and He understands that some things are beyond our power, Brother. I saw what the Sergeant did, and God cannot find fault in your inability to stop him. You did all you could."

The Dragon's presence was calming, and Brother Rhys couldn't tell whether it was because he felt as though he was under the Bishop's protection, or because the man had such a clear line to the divine that God's love was palpable in his presence. Regardless, he could do little but weep. "How can I be so helpless when I am needed the most?"

They walked three steps before the Bishop spoke but, rather than answer the question, he made an observation, with an unspoken question of his own. "You care for these people... more than the simple, unattached love with which a Priest cares for the masses."

Thinking of no other way suitable enough to address the Bishop's quandary, Brother Rhys recited one of his favorite quotes from The Golden Litany: Passage three, verse nine. "Be they Sheep or Lion, Deer or Wolf, I will love them all, for they are My children and, even if they know it not, I am their Father."

The Dragon came to a stop, and Brother Rhys looked around, realizing that they were far beyond the battle lines, actually situated amidst several Wyranese tents and standing almost right beside a large table with a battle map laid upon it. "God has a reason for everything He does... and apparently His wisdom is shown in how He has led you here."

The Rat shook his head, "But I wasn't able to--"

The Bishop silenced him with a gaze. "You were unable to save the Stallion, Brother... but you may have single handedly ended this battle."

Brother Rhys froze, confused by what the Bishop had to say. "Your Excellency...?"

Roaring at the top of his lungs with wings spread wide, the Dragon's voice spoke only one word: "Brektyr!"

It was less than a minute before the tall, broad-shouldered Red Wolf appeared, followed by several soldiers dressed in field plate. Lord O'Dell's gaze drifted from the Dragon to Brother Rhys, then back to the Dragon. The Duke nodded, "Yes, Bishop Fulgaré? You called?"

The Dragon made the announcement in an even tone; once again his order was spoken with all the certainty of a declaration. "This battle ends now."

The Wolf hesitated for a moment, "A pardon, Your Excellency, but--"

The Dragon's next words held the hint of a hiss to them and his tail smacked into the sandy beach to punctuate them. "It ends NOW."