Project Empress 017

 [Chapter 4 finished]

Cara helped Walter and Natalie to move the two men, who were slowly coming back to their senses, out of the bar. They were able to walk again by now, both had a certain spark in their eyes that made Natalie bare her teeth in anticipation. The alleged smile soon turned into something more disappointed when the two men just sat down around the still unconscious blond man, glowering fiercely but not moving. 

“Oh come on, two big men, strong like you, are you really just going to sit there and just wait for the church militia to arrive?”

“Yeah,” one of them said. “Then they will see that your old friend over there assaulted us when we were here on official academy business”, he tried a smile, not to much of one. Natalie looked twitchy like a sprinter milliseconds before the race was started.

Cara was slowly moving herself into a position that she could intervene from if her master decided to attack. It would look really bad if the church forces arrived and they gave them double beaten bullies. More than anything else, it was morally wrong to attack an enemy that was already beaten. Goading them into another match they had already lost was just mean. 

“Official academy business?”, Walter asked, leaning against the door frame of the bar’s entrance. “You damaged my front door and then assaulted me with some flimsy excuse of some academy.”

“We have the paperwork. We were just talking. And then you attacked us”, the guy said, now allowing himself a bloodied grin.

“I warned you thrice and I invoked the principle of sanctum sanctorum.”

“Yeah, that’s what you say grandpa, but that would be you word against ours.”

“Heh”, Walter snorted. “Show me that paper again…”

Both thugs looked around them, the paper had fallen from the hand of the blond man’s hands when he had been struck down. 

“Oops…”, Walter said, his expression was perfectly neutral but his aura was smiling thinly. “And you just told me this incredible lie to my face, with witnesses. Also you are here on academy business? Funny as none of you are part of the academy.”

“We…? We were hired as body guards by…”, he turned to the blond man.

“Who also isn’t in the academy”, Walter said. “My friend here is from the illustrious  High Academy of Historical Fencing Arts Monasteria”, he turned to Cara. “When was the last training you attended?”

“Two days ago”, Cara said.

“And have you seen any of these people there?”

“No.”

Walter lifted an eyebrow. The thugs, eyes wide, fell silent. 

Only moments later an armoured transporter in the white and gold of the church militia came silently rolling down the street, bathed in the blue pulsing halo produced by its light strips, showing that it was there on official peace keeping duty.

The transporter stopped in front of Bacchus’ Barrel. Two armoured officers got out of the wagon. A lithe wirey woman and a large bull like man, both looked tried.

“Hey Walter”, the woman said. 

“Hello Christine. Hey Frank”, the large officer grunted a greeting to Walter. “Long night?”

“Yeah long and full of bullshit. I swear to the Lord, whose mercy shines on us all, that if I get another bunch of drunk arseholes tonight, that he may bestow upon me the patience of all the saints, for I feel the wicked temptation of the mortal sin of wrath.”

The two thugs on the floor somehow manged to shift into an even more colourless white.

“No drunks”, Walter said. “Just a group of criminals, damaging my property,” Walter motioned towards his door. Frank clicked his tongue in disapproval, slowly shaking his head. “Who pretended to be on official business of the High Academy of Historical Fencing.”

“Did they say that indeed?”, Christine said, looking the three over.

“Yes, they said I was hiding, on a day my bar is obviously closed”, he gestured towards the dark bar, “that I was hiding a Proditor Perfidissimus.”

“Huh?”, Frank asked.

“You three”, Christine said, “knocked on this man’s door and asked him to look through his rooms looking for a Proditor Perfidissimus?”

“Yes ma’am”, said the other guy who up until now hadn’t said anything.

“You accused the war hero, high instructor and grand master Walter Balogh Rayne of harbouring a Proditor Perfidissimus inside the walls of his house? And you did so in the name of the High Academy of Historical Fencing”, Christine clasped her hands together as she mouthed a short prayer. “May the saints of mercy and the Virgin Mary move the heart of the  judicial vicar I am going to wake up the moment I have brought you to your holding cell. Pray, my stray brothers, for you tonight you will only find salvation in the Lord”, she nodded at Frank, who one by one lifted the men from the pavement and threw them into the back of the transporter.

Christine turned back to Walter. “I am so sorry this happened and to you of all people…”

“It’s OK”, Walter said. “I had everything under control.”

“Still, that things like this happen in our beautiful city”, she crossed herself. “We live in the strangest of times.”

“At least it wasn’t drunks.”, Walter said smiling. 

“That at the very least is true and we are delivered of a night of boring duty.”

“Glad to be of service”, Walter said.

Christine snorted. 

“And say hi to Monica for me.”

“Will do, good night, Walter., Madams”, she nodded to Cara and Natalie. Frank nodded goodbye to them. Moments later, the wagon had disappeared as silently as it had arrived.

Walter turned to Cara and Natalie. “This will buy you a bit of time. A few hours at worst. Nat, did you secure passage on a ship?”

“Yep. The ship will leave in about two hours when it’s done loading. They want to enter the wild lands during daylight and reach the territory of the Confederated Cities before it gets dark.”

“Perfect.”, Walter said. “That gives you enough time to get Cara’s things and go to the harbour without raising any suspicion.”

“I’ll escort Cara. Will you prepare the last rites?”, Natalie said.

“Sure will do”, Walter nodded.

“Let’s go Cara, the clock is ticking.”

As they walked back to her home Cara asked, “What are the ‘last rites’?”

“You’ll see soon enough.”

“They sound scary”, Cara mumbled.

“They are more of awe inspiring and ridiculous.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“You’ll see.”

Back in Cara’s home she had already prepared all her things. She had the large transport backpack with her sword and equipment. She had packed two suitcases with her clothes, a few books and a few other things she thought she would need on her voyage. 

“Mind if I have a look around your flat and the things you packed?”, Natalie said.

“Er… no? Go ahead.”

Natalie went directly to her equipment bag and got rid of most of her protective gear. “This is just bulk and we won’t need it at first. We’ll get you knew and better gear when it’s time for it and when we aren’t running away from the church’s army… and your academy.”

Natalie looked up at Cara. “What did you even do? I thought you had told your master about our arrangement?”

“I did!”, Cara said, tears now pooling in her eyes. “He didn’t mind. He just waved me away. I asked. I really did.”

“Oh… on no, Cara”, Natalie rushed to Cara, giving her a big hug and holding her. “It’s OK, Cara. You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s probably just a misunderstanding. Walter will look into it. We still have the support of the Lord-bishop.” Cara sobbed silently, her hand gripping Natalie’s coat tightly. 

“No matter what happens”, Natalie said, “I will take care of you, OK? We will clear your name. We will win that tournament. When we come back here to Monasteria in a few months, will come back as heroes, you hear me?”

Cara, still crying, nodded. They stood like that for quite a while. Natalie never let go of Cara, very gently turning around with her so she could have a look at a clock. Natalie would worry about the time so Cara didn’t.

Five minutes later Cara let go of Natalie, she sniffled wiping away the last tears from her face. “It’s all a bit much”, Cara said.

“It certainly is”, Natalie agreed.

Cara looked at the pile of protective gear on the floor. “At least that solves one of my problems.”

“Which one?”, Natalie asked.

Cara walked to a pile of shreds of fabric that stood looked quite out of place in Cara’s flat. She started to stuff them into her equipment bag. 

“What exactly is that?”, Natalie asked. She chose her words very carefully.

“That is Miss Snuggles.”

“?”, Natalie said.

“Miss Snuggles is my special blanket. She has been with me for as long as I remember. The blond shithead cut her to ribbons when he attacked me.”

 She then went to her bed and took a small very old bunny plushy.

“And who is that?”, Natalie asked.

“That is Fiore the bunny”, Cara said.

“We need all the help we can get.”

“Are you making fun of me?”, Cara looked at Natalie with red eyes.

“No”, Natalie smiled a surprisingly warm and open smile. “I have Miri-chan.”

“Who is that?”, Cara asked.

“My plushy, its a little cat.”

Cara laughed. Natalie joined her. Moments later the atmosphere in the room was much lighter again. 

“I’m going to have a look in the kitchen. Gone make sure that you won’t have to fight what ever was in your fridge when we return. And look if there isn’t something that we can take with us. Either as rations or to barter.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Nah, you my friend need to take care of your make-up.”, Natalie said.

Less then half an hour later, Cara and Natalie were back on the street again.

“One last thing and we can leave this city behind us.”, Natalie said, she was carrying both of Cara’s suitcases, moving at a impressive clip. It took Cara some effort to keep up with her.

“The last rites?”, Cara asked.

“The last rites”, Natalie said.

They returned to Bacchus’ Barrel. Cara was extremely nervous because here they were back at the scene of the crime. Even if it hadn’t been her crime. But instead of church militia there was just silence and darkness.

This time Natalie rang the bell. Walter’s joy was measurable.

“We don’t have much time”, he said. “Leave your stuff here in the bar. I will call you a coach, I know someone we can trust. You go up to the garden.”

Upstairs, in the middle of the green, stood a large roughly humanoid figure mode from cardboard boxes. 

“What’s that?” Cara said.

“Walk around it and you’ll see”, Natalie said.

Cara did, the cardboard scarecrow had something written in big black letters on it’s chest. “CARA GIBSON MÜLLER” it said.

“Is that me?”, Cara asked.

“In a way”, Walter said, he had just arrived at the entrance. He walked over to them, a large round wine bottle in one hand. He opened it and poured a clear liquid over the cardboard Cara, it smelled of concentrated alcohol. 

“Nat”, he said.

Natalie took a lighter out of her pocket and lit the effigy on fire.

“Hey!”, Cara shouted. “Why are you setting me on fire?”

Walter looked at Natalie.

“This isn’t you”, Natalie said.

“It has my name on it…”, Cara pouted.

“This is your fear. This is your panic, These are all the things inside you that hold you back, that weigh you down.” 

“Uh-huh…”, Cara said still not sure what to think of all of this. The fire had now engulfed all of the cardboard figure. Natalie stepped towards her, carefully unsheathing her sharp sword, presenting it grip first to Cara.

“Take the sword. Confront your own weakness, all the things that live within you only to get in your way. This is your first real enemy, take the sword and destroy it.”

Cara took the sword from Natalie’s hand, a beautiful weapon, with a point of balance that gravitated towards the enemy, a weapon that wanted to smite who ever stood against it. She weighed it for a short moment, getting a feel for the weapon, then stabbed the burning Cara-thing in front of her. It was just an empty shell, weak, timid, afraid. Someone who when confronted with her dreams would shy away from them, their light so bright as to startle her away. 

Cara lifted her sword, this thing before her wasn’t her. With a clean step forward and a slash down she destroyed this weak thing, leaving behind only Cara, blade shining in the trails of fire her attack had left.