"Heero...I'm tired."
Romefeller country wasn't exceedingly large, but it wasn't possible to reach the borders within a day either. They had traveled all night, Vayeate's firm gallop slowing down into a trot. Relena had dozed off, resting against Heero, waking up at intervals and staring around her, gasping lightly. He had no difficulties staying awake. The destruction of the farm would be a nightmare to haunt him for quite a while. Relena had stopped crying altogether after a while. Her face was a mess of black soot and tears streaks, her hair messy and unbraided.
Vayeate was calmly stepping forward, as if it simply knew where to go to. They hadn't taken anything with them but the picnic basket Relena had picked up at the last moment. Heero had thrown the blanket around them. The fabric was a little prickly and still held some crumbs from their earlier lunch. He was only wearing his pants and leather boots; the rest of his possessions, except for the weapon obviously, had gone down with the rest of the farm.
Relena owned nothing more than the dress she was wearing and hadn't thought of taking any gold with her...it was doubtful anything could have been saved from the ruins anyway. They needed food, shelter, and new clothing. The girl hung limply against him, about to fall off if he didn't stop the horse.
"Huu, Vayaete," he said and dismounted, carefully helping Relena off. She sank through her knees like a puppet whose strings had been cut.
"I'm sorry," she mumbled and shivered. She pulled the blanket closer and looked up at Heero, suddenly grimacing.
"You're half naked," she said accusingly, before she realized she was holding the blanket. Immediately, she took it off and gave it to him.
"No Relena, I'll be fine," he said.
"No, you won't. Take it."
"Relena..."
"I'm not the one without clothing," she said, smiling at him. "Please, take it. The nights can be cold."
He took the blanket from her, mostly to please her. Relena was very strong willed and she wouldn't rest until he had accepted the blanket from her. It was of no use discussing it until the cows came home; he could probably put the blanket right back around her shoulders when she was asleep. That posed a whole other problem; where to go to, where to stay for the night, what to eat?
Relena was still carrying the simple picnic basket, it dangled from her arm as if she wanted to protect it with her life. She shivered again, but tried not to show it.
"I know this road," she said hesitantly. "The large road goes to another village, not as large as the capital, but they surely have an inn...a place to sleep."
"We don't have any gold with us," Heero reminded her. She nodded sadly.
"I'm trying to remember if we have any relatives living around here..."
Her voice trailed off. If she was thinking like Heero about Darlian's words, then she wasn't really sure if she had any relatives. He could see the question marks in her eyes, but she didn't voice it out loud. Adopted? Just like him? He had been adopted purely to work on the farm, not as a son into the family. He wasn't offended or hurt by that. He had already been given a chance of a lifetime, just to be away from a life on the streets, and he was forever grateful.
He wrapped his arms around the girl.
"Those bastards will pay, Relena."
"No violence," she said, but she sounded defeated. Relena would never take a weapon up herself, not even when faced with an enemy. Heero didn't comment on that; he was starting to get tired after all, and it was only because of fatigue that Relena didn't say anything about him carrying a weapon.
"We need a place to stay," he suggested. Spending the rest of the night alongside the road didn't sound like a good idea. The sun would come up in a few hours, but he didn't fancy Relena sleeping under a hedge, not when he couldn't stay awake himself. Fatigue had hit him as soon as he had dismounted Vayeate; the tall horse was currently chewing on some grass, calm as always.
Relena lifted up the basket and dug through it, as if she was expecting to find the solution in it. If his memory served him right, there was nothing but a few bites of bread, cheese and a half-empty jug of water in it...that was, if Relena had put it all in there in her haste. Not much they could live on. Heero didn't realize he was already busy adapting himself to the change in their situation, the change in their lives. It was a natural born instinct, sharpened by his previous life on the streets. He knew how to survive, but he wasn't so sure about Relena.
How would she adjust to a harsher life? No securities, no home, no parents to fall back on? She had been a little spoiled on the farm -- true, she hadn't shunned physical labor, but it mostly had consisted of taking care of Vayeate; curry-combing the horse or cleaning out his stable. The rest of her work was on paper, if she wasn't too busy with her education or discussing politics with her father. She had been taugt how to dress nice, how to hold up herself in conversation, and her hands weren't as calloused as his...but why should they be?
Relena was to be married, and in this country it was already a miracle that her father involved her so much in his own life. Usually, the parents were actively searching for a fitting husband, the bride-to-be's opinion ignored.
Life was going to be hard for her, now that they didn't know what to do, or where to go to... he was startled out of his thoughts when Relena suddenly said: "Hey, what's this?"
"What's the matter?"
She looked at him, holding up a small leather bag, jingling it.
"I just found this on the bottom of the basket," she said, her voice sounding incredulous.
"What's in it?" He asked, even though it sounded like coins -- quite some coins.
"It wasn't in the basket this morning. I didn't put it in here," she babbled, a little nervously, as she tugged on the strings that held the bag together. Heero looked at her quizzically, and she extended her arms to allow him to peek inside.
"A small fortune," Relena said and she smiled, albeit sadly.
He saw the silver, and a few gold pieces no less -- she was right; it was a small fortune, enough to buy them provisions and lodging for a long time to come if they were careful. He shook his head, not understanding.
"How can that be? How did it get there?"
"Mother...she helped me pack the basket this morning. As if she knew...anticipated..." Relena's voice hitched. She started crying again, soundlessly just like before; large tears rolled over her cheeks.
Heero didn't know what to say. There were a million questions jumbling in his mind, and with every step he took, there were a million more. Esshava Darlian had put the money in there? Had they been rich enough to even own gold? He wasn't sure why Relena was convinced that her mother had been the one to put the money in the basket, but he was very grateful for her foresight.
"Let's get away from the road, Relena," he gently said and nudged her, just a very light touch on the elbow. She nodded, not caring that her face was still dirty and tear-streaked. She took Vayeate's reins and guided him along.
They walked along the road in the hope to find an inn; with the discovered money, things were looking better. People were more willing to do something for gold than out of compassion; at least, that was Heero's take on it. Relena still was convinced of the kindness of people, but he wasn't going to fight about it. Tired as they both were, and also the horse showing signs of fatigue, it was imperative that they found a place to stay first and foremost.
Luck was with them as finally, after two more hours of a painstakingly slow walking pace, an inn showed up along the way, with vacancies -- they even had room for Vayeate in their stables. Heero made sure, by subtlety showing the sollevar, that the innkeeper wouldn't keep them for stupid peasants who had no idea about prices in the world. Two silver coins was way too much for a night, even with Vayeate in the stable; but Relena tugged at his elbow and asked him to let it go.
The two of them didn't make a very good impression: Relena in a scorched dress, hair matted and in tangled strands reaching past her shoulders, a picnic basket dangling from her arm, and Heero with a blanket around him, only wearing pants and boots, both their faces covered in soot, and in Relena's case, the trails of her tears more than visible. The female innkeeper pursed her lips and gave especially Relena a strange look when she saw the torn and burnt clothing, but didn't knock the least amount off of the price.
Not in a mood to haggle, Heero took Relena upstairs to their room; for the price they paid, they were allowed to use a tub in the general bath room. Relena was all but happy to take a bath, now that the opportunity presented itself. She gave Heero the leather bag with the coins to guard, and quickly disappeared into the room to start her bath. Yawning, Heero took the sollevar with him; for some reason he didn't want to be separated from it. Too many people recognized the weapon for the danger that it was, and that annoyed and surprised him at the same time. If only he knew what was so special about it...
His fatigue was reduced to just a nagging feeling in the back of his mind. He had been up all night, and it was amazing that an inn was even open at this early hour -- probably for people who came to have breakfast here. Taking the steep stairs down again, Heero entered the large dining room, sniffing up the scent of porridge. It smelled like a heavenly dish to him since the lunch of yesterday has been the last food he'd had. Relena and he were entitled to one meal per room; he was sure they had paid way too much for everything, but as long as there were some silver coins in the pouch left... Heero wanted to go outside, or maybe take a look at Vayeate in the stable to check up on the horse. It would be a while before Relena would come out of her bath and go straight to sleep.
As he was on his way out, he noticed an elderly man in the corner of the room. He had his back turned to the rest of the customers and sat hunched at his table, dressed in all dark colors, nursing a jug of whatever brew there served here. Heero wasn't really sure, but the gray hair...some of the man's traits were familiar...he approached the man and cleared his throat.
"Esshan-dar Noventa," Heero took a lucky shot. The man ducked away, not wanting to be recognized, and he looked around him frantically, hands reaching to pull up the collar of his worn sweater.
"Who wants to know?" He asked rather brusquely, but his face softened immediately. This was the peace-loving man Heero knew; Noventa barely raised his voice, and he had been like a grandfather to every one of his people. Maybe too much of a grandfather instead of a good leader, because he hadn't been able to stop Khushrenada's influence and rising power.
"Heero," he introduced himself, not expecting the man to recognize him. "I was...am in service of the Darlians."
"Darlian," the man muttered, making a gesture to the chair opposite of him. Heero sat down, putting the sollevar between his chair and the wall. The man looked older, much older than Heero imagined, but he hadn't met this man before to ever notice. His gray hair was receding, and the friendly, grandfatherly face was marred by a very deep frown, etched with sorrow and worries.
"How did you end up here, esshan-dar?"
The man flinched again.
"Please don't refer to me like that," he whispered. "I was stripped of power and title, and the Twelve know that I didn't do anything to stop it."
"What happened?" This was news to him -- just as finding the man in power of his country in an average inn in the early morning.
"A masked fool and a madman," Noventa said, taking a large sip of the jug. He grimaced before swallowing, and he looked ready to throw up. His clothes were ragged and torn, and Heero would bet on it that the man was drinking on his last coin. He waited for him to continue.
"They visited me yesterday afternoon," he said, and now his tone of voice matched the bitterness on his face. "The Twelve help me, They know I already did more than enough to squander my own country... I allowed Khushrenada to station his men here, hoping we could come to some kind of understanding: his troops maintaining law and order, buying from our farmers to keep the economy and markets going, and in exchange he wouldn't declare war on our ground."
Heero nodded, silently listening. With disgust on his face, Noventa pushed the jug away from him.
"They visited me," he repeated, "and handed me a statement. They told me to sign it, but when I read it..." He took a deep breath, "...when I read it, it stated that I would surrender the whole nation to Khushrenada and entrust him all the power of ruling it. If I wouldn't sign, a declaration of war would follow..."
"You were left no choice," Heero said. "You were with your back against the wall." Noventa grimaced again.
"I should have listened to Darlian," he sighed, "but Khushrenada's plans at first were reasonable. He was leaving us out of his war and instead, we would provide his army with food and supplies, all for reasonable prices..."
"That would still involve Romefeller country in the war," Heero said, aghast.
"Yes, but there would be no fighting," Noventa immediately objected. "None of our men, fathers and sons, would be drafted for Khushrenada's army, and no harm would be done to any of the citizens! That was worth the price of selling..." he sobered again, "...selling my integrity as a leader. As long as no one would die, I would do anything to accomplish that!"
"What happened?" Heero demanded. Something must have happened for the man to end up here -- did he even know the Darlians were dead?
"My granddaughter," Noventa, his voice strangled.
"Sylvia?"
"She defied Khushrenada, calling him a liar, a usurper, an extortionist. She knew about his men's crimes in the city, under the guise of maintaining peace. She knew how they harassed hard-working, law abiding citizens, how they hunted and pestered orphans for fun, and told him that we never would agree to his conditions!"
Noventa buried his head in his hands.
"Sylvia...Sylvia had such a temper, just like her mother...but not like her father, my son... she possessed the courage of a hundred men, and a good heart, believing in justice and fairness..."
It didn't elude Heero that Noventa spoke about her in the past tense. He could only imagine what had happened to her.
"A masked fool with magic powers and a madman with an army of thousands," the esshan-dar whispered. Heero guessed that the mage was masked, he didn't know why. He didn't know anything about the man, only that people were afraid of him -- but most people were weary of mages and magic in general.
"I had hoped to keep my country out of trouble, but instead I only made it worse," Noventa continued. "I told myself, I keep telling myself that I wasn't as cowardly as I'm perceived to be...but by granting some of Khushrenada's 'wishes', I gave Romefeller country away before even the first threat was uttered. I should have listened to Darlian and strengthened up an army when the first rumors of war were reaching the capital."
"You did what you believed in," Heero answered. "You tried to protect your people, even if it wasn't the right way."
"How's everything in the city?" Noventa abruptly changed the subject. Heero blinked, but complied with the man's question. He told him about Darlian and the death of the family, about the Treize Faction being responsible for the burning down of the farm. Noventa paled with every word Heero said.
"May the Twelve have mercy on their souls," he said, folding his hands as if in prayer. "I failed my best friend and most esteemed advisor... I left my people..." He shook his head again, as if a stubborn insect was buzzing around his head. "I did it all wrong... he tried to warn me. I didn't want to believe people were capable of..."
"They were very much capable," Heero replied, anger clearly audible. The images of the ruined farm, of both the Darlians dying, of Relena crying out in despair were etched in his body, mind and soul. Khushrenada was going to pay for this. Slowly and bloodily.
"The Treize Faction outnumbered us, and would've killed me and Relena as well if --"
"I can't believe it," Relena's voice suddenly chimed. "Esshan-dar Noventa!"
The elderly man shivered again. "Please, don't... I don't deserve that title anymore."
"Nonsense, esshan-dar," Relena insisted and even sketched a bow. Heero hadn't expected her back so soon after her bath, assuming that she would go to sleep. She looked very tired, face pale, but her eyes darted sharply through the room, nothing escaping her gaze. He also noticed that her dress was shorter; she apparently had cut off the scorched hem. It still reached below the knee, and the fabric appeared cleaner than before. Her hair was braided as usual and for a moment she just looked like a girl simply traveling, on her way without any worries.
Noventa gestured towards the other chair just like he had done with Heero, and shoved the empty jug more to the side. A waitress appeared and started serving them breakfast without much interest or chit-chat, despite not being overly busy. Heero caught Noventa's longing look at the large bowl of porridge. He probably hadn't eaten in quite a while either.
"Would you please bring him breakfast as well?" Relena said, obviously sharing Heero's thoughts.
"You only paid for two," the waitress answered sourly. Relena glared at her as if offended, and repeated: "Would you please bring him some breakfast? We'll take care of the costs later."
"Thank you," the elderly man said as soon as the waitress stomped away, face red in embarrassment. He was ashamed, a mighty man who had fallen from grace hard, overpowered or not. They used the next moments of silence to simply eat; to Heero's surprise, the porridge was quite nourishing and tasty. The waitress appeared at their table again to serve Noventa, as well putting a small basket with rolls and a jug of fresh, cold water on the table.
Relena tried to strike up conversation, but Noventa became more withdrawn, eating his porridge as if starving. She said that she hadn't known that Noventa had left the city, and he murmured something about Khushrenada telling him to leave in return. His speech became slow and almost slurred, and for a moment Heero asked himself if the man was drunk. He slumped more and more in his chair, and finally Relena asked him: "Esshan-dar, are you all right?"
"Please stop calling me that," he said, but his voice lacked any scolding. He remained silent for a minute, then he continued, voice nothing but a whisper: "They took my granddaughter."
Relena almost choked on her sip of water. Of course she knew Sylvia Noventa, she was of the same age and they had gone to school together for a few years until the girl had gotten private tutoring. Relena had asked her father if she could get private tutoring as well, not understanding why her friend had left school. He had explained to her that Sylvia, due to the position of her grandfather, had special privileges. The title and position of esshan-dar was passed down in their family, ruling the city until the people would either object or demand for election.
When that happened, anyone could declare him or herself a candidate and run for the position, but the last time the people chose an esshan-dar, the Noventa family, had been generations and generations ago. Sylvia was to be prepared for ruling Romefeller country one day; the obligation resting on her shoulders since her parents had both died at a young age.
"Who did?" She said, but she knew the answer before Heero spoke.
"Khushrenada," he gritted, and Noventa nodded.
"They just took her, dragged her out of my office, when I...when we both refused to sign the statement. If I didn't sign immediately, she would die. I...I didn't face an army, I faced the decision between the life of my granddaughter and the well-being of my country."
"That's even a tougher decision," Relena said. She even touched the man's hand, almost petting it. "We understand that Sylvia's life was far more important than..."
"No," the man said, and his fingers curled, his nails driving into the soft wood of the table top.
"I shouldn't have squandered the nation to begin with. I should have stood up against Khushrenada. For too long, I thought everything would be all right if I fulfilled his demands in a reasonable manner... but I should have seen that the need of the many outweigh the need of the few..."
"No," was Relena's stern answer, "that's not true, esshan-dar. Every life is precious, and after they had... killed Sylvia, they would've found someone or something else to force you. You couldn't have won, never."
The man was trembling, and shaking his head spasmodically.
"Please save my granddaughter," he pleaded. "Please save her! Without Sylvia, my life is worthless! If I had her back, if she could be with me again, I could draw from her strength and courage, and together we could face Khushrenada."
"She's just a..." Heero started.
"...wonderful and invaluable person," Relena smoothly completed his sentence. She ignored his look and smiled at the former ruler.
"Essan-dar Noventa, we'll find Sylvia and return her safely home."
"Thank you, esshava," he said. For the first time this evening, Heero saw the man smiling.
"No, not esshava. Esshan-diva," Noventa continued, his face lighting up, the worried frown gone.
Relena blushed. "That's way too much honor."
"You deserve it. I can only give you my gratitude, esshan-diva Darlian. May the Twelve protect and guide you."
She stared at her spoon in the bowl; there was still some porridge left, but she was already full, having nibbled on one of the rolls as well. Her cheeks were flushed, but Heero couldn't figure out why. Was it because of a silly title that didn't make any sense? She had all but flat out promised Noventa they would rescue his granddaughter, and they didn't have a clue where she was.
"His name is Nichol," the man suddenly continued. "He was the one to...take her away. One of Khushrenada's lackeys, but I don't know his rank...he wore the same uniform as the Treize Faction, but he has more golden stars on his right shoulder than a regular soldier. Dark, brown hair...curly... and sideburns...and the most nasty look in his eyes you'll ever see."
"Nichol," Heero repeated. Only a name wouldn't bring them very far. He had no idea how to deal with this, but Relena looked confident.
"I have faith that you'll bring her back to me, safe and sound," Noventa said, his eyes shimmering with new-found hope. "I'll be waiting here for Sylvia to take her home."
After the waitress had cleared their table and breakfast was over, both Heero and Relena excused themselves and went outside. Relena shivered; it was chilly outside, especially compared to the warmth inside the inn where a small open fire had been burning.
"What was all that about, that he called you esshan-diva?" was the first thing Heero asked.
There weren't many titles in ordinary speech, with esshan and esshava to indicate a man or a woman of certain standing, but not really powerful. That started with esshan-dar, as in Noventa's case. He had never heard of esshan-diva before, and it sounded silly to him.
Relena looked pensive. "He wanted to give me some kind of title in his gratitude, but esshan-darava would be way too much honor, as it would indicate me as his equal. As I'm not ruling any country, not that I know of," she tried for a dry joke, "he named me esshan-diva. I like it. It's more than addressing a woman of simple standing, but far less than addressing someone in high power."
"Poor man," Heero said, already dismissing the issue with the title.
"What? For inventing a new title?"
"No, that his granddaughter is kidnapped. Khushrenada doesn't know any limits in his path of war," he almost growled. "It's going to end very badly for him."
"We don't have to deal with Khushrenada, not yet," Relena said. "Let's try to get some sleep, all right? We're both tired, and we can ask to be awoken in the afternoon, that would give us at least five to six hours of sleep. After that, we'll decide what we're going to do... like buying you a new shirt, for example."
Heero couldn't help but grin at her, slightly amused. No one had said anything about his bare torso, assuming he was a poor laborer. He had never owned more than two shirts in his life, and he usually took it off when working -- with this soft, warm climate, shirts often were more a hindrance than a convenience, especially with physical labor.
"All right," he agreed. "Let's go inside."
"You need a bath, too," she said, voice strikingly soft, but when he looked at her, she lowered her eyes and lifted up her foot to step over the high threshold, back into the inn. Noventa was still inside, but he appeared in a far better mood than when Heero had first met him. He was staring almost dreamily outside, awaiting his granddaughter's return. That was something he had to discuss with Relena too, Heero thought. Her spontaneous promise could well prove to be a burden, not to mention improbable to hold.
Their room held two beds, and Relena had chosen the one by the window, the picnic basket placed on the pillow. He used the small wash-basin on the dresser to minimally wash his hands, face and neck; the cut from his earlier fight was already healing, as superficial as it was. Without any comment, he took the other bed and rolled into it, plucking at the blankets. He wasn't feeling very tired after all; it seemed his body had simply pushed the need for sleep away. The thick velour curtains blocked out the light of the rising sun, and it was a little strange to be in bed at this time of hour. Any normal day, he would have been up for hours already, feeding and taking care of the animals, the lands.... Silence reigned for a while.
"Heero?"
"Yes, Relena?"
Her voice sounded like a young child, afraid of the dark.
"You're going to stay with me, aren't you? I mean...I can't imagine..."
"I'm staying with you," he said steadfast, as if she had been crazy to ever doubt that. There was another silence, then came a whispered, but genuinely relieved, "Thank you".
He assumed she'd fallen asleep pretty soon after, hearing her breathing even out. He wondered why his own body wasn't resting, but his eyes were wide awake, staring into nothing. He knew he had good health and good stamina, but neither his body nor his mind felt tired after all the events involving the fight with the Treize Faction, the fire and their escape from their hometown. Not that he felt attached to it. He had made a promise to Darlian, and he was going to keep it, no matter what it took.
A noise awoke him; feet shuffling outside the door. Heero reached next to his bed, hand grabbing the sollevar. He had slept a few odd hours after all; adrenaline rushed back into him, his body perfectly awake. If there was someone going to attack them... the door opened and the woman who came in said out loud: "It's afternoon already!"
Heero almost dropped his weapon from the sheer noise the woman made, and identified her immediately as the sour waitress who had served him breakfast. He couldn't believe Relena had asked her of all people to wake them.
"Thank you," he barked. It was a good thing it was almost near-dark in the room; she wouldn't have appreciated having a weapon pointed at her, he presumed. Relena stirred in the bed, heaving a deep sigh.
"Is it that late already?"
"I suppose so," Heero said. "Why don't you rest a little longer, I'm going to take my bath."
"Hm-mm," she made a non-committal noise, voice muffled by her pillow and he could hear her shift around, sheets and blankets shifting with her. He jumped out of his own bed and went to take his bath; it felt good to clean himself from head to toe and get every bit of soot off of his body. He wished he could scrub away the memory of the burning building and the Darlians dying as easily, and stared at the bar of soap in his hands. Khushrenada would pay... and he would beg for mercy before the sollevar would rip open his intestines and make him bleed like a stuck pig.
When he returned into the room, he found both beds perfectly made, the curtains open, the late afternoon light coloring the sparse light wooden furniture a soft yellow and orange. The picnic basket was gone, but his sollevar was still standing in the corner; he hadn't taken it with him into the bathroom. He only had to dress himself with his pants and boots, a light shiver running through him as he was still shirtless.
Heero went downstairs, immediately locating Relena haggling over the price of the extra breakfast for Noventa. The man himself was nowhere to be seen, and Heero was curious as to where he went. Back into hiding in another place? Relena would probably know where he would have gone to, and he walked up to the girl, engaged in a heated discussion with the innkeeper. Casually swinging the sollevar around, the innkeeper became a little less adamant in his demands for another full silver coin for the extra bowl of porridge.
"I'm very sorry, but these are the prices we have to ask," the man said defensively, but not apologetic. "We have to pay taxes and levies as well, esshava, so I have to ask for another half a silver coin, then."
"We paid you more than enough for our room and own breakfast, even if it was including the bath," Relena protested again. "It's not that I don't want to pay for the extra meal, but half a silver coin is really too much!"
"We can always call for the Treize Faction and let them know that someone wants to rip off a law-abiding citizen, who pays rent and taxes," the innkeeper snarled, voice turning chilly. "They know what to do with scammers."
Heero took a step forward, the trident-shaped weapon swinging dangerously close to the man's face, but Relena stopped him. The last thing they needed was an all-out brawl in an inn.
"Very well," she said and took out the coins, sighing. She couldn't see the bottom of the small leather bag yet, but that didn't mean they could throw the money around. The innkeeper eyed the bag greedily and from the look on his face, he was mentally calculating if there was something else he could charge the both of them for.
"We're leaving," Heero said curtly.
"About the horse," the innkeeper started. "He ate more than estimated, so..."
"Nonsense!" Heero barked and his voice was so loud and curt that the man almost sprung up, his hands pressed against his chest as if he suffered a heart-attack. The metal tip of the sollevar was almost stuck up his nose and his teeth chattered in fear. Heero shot him another death glare, then withdrew the sollevar and turned around to leave, escorting Relena out of the inn before the situation would completely explode. The nerve!
Vayeate was all right, and whinnied expectantly, already brought out of the stables. Relena took his reins and patted him on the neck, greeting her friend. Heero imitated her and patted the horse also on his neck. He would serve them well in the time to come; Vayeate would have to guide them on their path, for many many miles. He was a good companion, not to mention Heero owed him his life. If it hadn't been for the trampling force of Vayeate's legs, he had never been able to deal with the three soldiers of the Treize faction all at once. Relena smoothed out a few wrinkles in her blue dress, the picnic basket dangling from her arm.
"Let's go," Heero said and started guiding the horse. Relena hadn't mentioned a thing about Sylvia Noventa, and he had no idea where to start looking for her, with the little information they had. They probably wouldn't find her in the forests around here that formed the natural border. The country of Auda and Iria wasn't that far away, depending on how long it took for them to trek through the thick woods.
Chapter 2 | Chapter 4 |